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hollyhomburg · 5 months

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Before I Leave You (Pt.63)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: you never thought that just cuddling with Hobi on a cold day could lead to this; his pants off and you begging "Daisy please-"

Tags: fluff, a little hurt but mostly just comfort, first times, soft cuddle sex, unintentional mutual somnophilia, knotting, scenting, under clarified limits, a touch of slick kink, breeding kink, a touch of size kink (you know the good stuff), unrealistic amounts of cum, implied belly bulge, implied feral sex, small triggers after sex, small references to past abusive relationships, hole check's, knot checks, dom/sub undertones to later scenes but not in the main smut,

W/c: 14.2k

A/n: thank you guys for being patient for this next chapter :) it's one of my favorites so please give it lots of love! i know we've all been waiting for hobi's confession and the completion of their arc, did i do it justice? Also i'm sorry that i have a pathological need to end every single chapter with a cliffhanger lol, this one is no different!

Previous part ~ Masterlist

(5 years ago. Before Yoongi. Before everyone.)

Jung Hoseok cleans his arms in a bathroom. He is 21 years old, there is lipstick on his fingers, and nothing bad has happened to him yet.

Bad is all relative of course. Some would call growing up in a rich area while living in a one-bedroom apartment bad. Some people would call not really knowing your parents because they work late nights bad. Some would even say that the fact that they won’t pay for Hoseok’s college education a fucking tragedy.

But between you and me and Hoseok; other people wouldn't know a fucking tragedy if it hit them in the fucking face. Talking to some people about your suffering is like trying to make a toddler shoot the broad side of a god damn barn with a double barrel shotgun. Or like those little lemon slices they put in the water at olive garden-

It's fucking useless. And you're more likely to be sent to the hospital than get some actual fucking results. Weather it's because of food poisoning, a bullet wound, or because some idiot you trusted thinks you're a god damn suicide risk.

See right? Talking about your problems is fucking useless.

But he’s always been able to focus on the brighter side of things. It's a blessing and a curse because optimism always lies to you. It's easier to be happy than it is to be upset, at least for Hoseok at this moment.

At least he was an optimist until they ruined him a little. After this year, finding the silver will take effort.

The tiles beneath his feet are cold to the touch. He knows that there’s a button somewhere to turn on the heated flooring but he just can’t find it. Hidden and unfamiliar as he is with this den. So different from his own little dormitory halfway across the city.

This fancy three-bedroom apartment is one that he will move into in precisely 4 months once they make it official, he’ll live here for exactly 2 years 3 months, and 8 days before being kicked out and moving into the pack's den. It’s exactly 2 years to the date that he meets Min Yoongi in the record store.

But nothing bad has happened to him yet. Today he is just himself, No idea of what's about to befall him and that It won't just be bad.

This apartment is upscale, with its wainscotting and long gauzy curtains that barely keep out the sound of the city streets 5 stories below and the lightly warm June morning. He’s not quite sure who pays for this one yet. Hasn’t had the chance to ask, he's only been seeing this pack for 2 months. This Hoseok is shyer than the one you know. Timid and unsure of where he should place his dulled claws.

It's all awfully mysterious. The question of "What do your parents do?" and the answer pressed to a raised finger. The truth lingering between lipstick and manicure on a single giggled breath.

"That's a secret"

He casts a glance around the bathroom, the marble counters, the plush hand towels, and even the designer soap is forghein to him.

Rich people.

It's one part tired jealousy and one part true distaste. Even if Hoseok had all the money in the world he wouldn't waste it on painting a bathroom white or powdery Dior soap. Why not blue or orange or green or pink?

(Oh Hobi. The pack’s bathroom will be green one day, with delicate tiles in the shade of the lightest moss. Not yellow-toned and not blue. he's going to help yoongi pick it out, He just doesn’t know it yet).

Their apartment is just a few blocks from the college that he attends, a freshman but not for much longer. A freshman, along with the pack's youngest. Her on the business track and him in a weed-out art department. The prerequisite humanities course is their shared battleground.

Out of everything in this story, this is the only true coincidence.

This version of Hoseok likes omegas with a bit of a dark side. The ones that are a bit bitchy, a bit entitled and alot pretty. The ones that hone their eyeliner to a vicious edge, or the male ones that act a little bit more like alphas and disobey gender norms. That’s what drew his eye to this pack's youngest in their hum 1 class.

He got a little melty when her eyes turned less “I’ll kill you if you even sniff in my direction” and more “A pretty alpha like you has to have a pack right?”

Hoseok had stuttered when he’d said that No- he didn’t.

Before long he’ll drop out because he just can’t cut it at art school. Just can’t spend nights with fingers black from charcoal, working on things that will one day be thrown in the garbage because he’ll have a pack to attend to. Good alpha that he is.

(It will be years before he realizes that it wasn't art school just mediums. He’s meant to use flowers to make things instead.)

They’re not his pack yet, not yet. not yet. Not Yet- But there is a gift waiting for him downstairs. A fancy set of pastels and paints. It’s the start of courting even though he’s supposed to be the one buying them gifts. He’s the penniless college student they’re the ones with the nice apartment. He’s the one with the knot, and they’re all omegas. It’s a give-and-take.

Yet somehow even though he’ll be the only alpha he knows he won’t be the pack alpha.

He cleans the lipstick from his fingers. Bright red. He knows he has it in other places too, down below the tugged low hemline of his pants pulled on after they were done fucking.

The last thing he wants to be is like the other alphas in the fraternities on campus, the ones that holler at all the omegas shit like “I can taste your slick from here baby,” and “want to study anatomy together? I’m a hands-on learner” Hobi dreads the idea that he might be like that. Even a little bit. Even unintentionally.

But still, their words from earlier ring in his ears.

“They haven’t been dating for that long, you can’t expect us to be comfortable all the time with you in our nest, it's a really intimate thing for us."

Hobi feels like one of those phraternity alphas when it makes him uncomfortable.

It’s reasonable that they wanted to give his knot a ride and try him out before they make it official. One alpha and four omegas, these odds are every alpha’s wet dream. He knows his performance was Oscar-worthy.

It had been nice to be in a nest for just a little bit, Hoseok’s biology wants it, the tense knot between his shoulders all loose.

Hoseok has never been loved by someone who wanted to talk to him every day, it will be easy for them to reduce his focus to their beck and call.

There's 4 different colors of lipstick on his cock. Four different shades from four different women. His new packmates get to the carrot part of the carrot and stick arrangement.

In the future, he’ll deny that he ever thought of any of these women as that- as packmates. He'll say it was only ever Namjoon’s pack that he wanted in this way. He’ll say it never compared and it didn’t. Except for these first few months. These first few days.

Memories lie to us all the time; memory is the best secret keeper.

He watches one of his packmates sit on the edge of the nest, she wears the lipstick prints better than he does. Lining the inside of her thighs, her own lips smudged.

Hoseok doesn’t let the smile fall from his lips and she smiles back. She tugs her long hair free of a bun that she’d put it up in so that she didn’t get slick in it. It will be a few more months until she cuts it above her collarbones. Blunt to a brutal edge.

Hoseok’s sweatshirt is on the edge of the nest, and Hoseok watches as she brings it to her nose, breathing in deep. Hoseok is just about to say that she can wear it when she throws it onto a nearby ottoman. Not onto the floor thankfully. No omega has ever worn his sweatshirt before. Hoseok tries not to let the rejection of his scent sting.

She looks at the lipstick on Hoseok, there’s a bit on his lip. “Come here.” She asks, parting her legs.

Hoseok is a good alpha and goes.

~-~

(Now, You and Hobi)

When Hobi wakes it's because the pack is moving around the room, bickering, and struggling to be quiet, bickering a little.

Their low hum drum voices as they talk about “Jungkookie? where did you put my mittens?” and ”I sort of love that you still wear mittens, babe.” Yoongi’s deep rumble, “Did Jimin buy those for you too?” All teasing and understanding. Because if anyone knows how Tae likes to be teased, Yoongi does.

Tae’s fond little croon is so melodic it makes Hobi sigh, ears straining to hear more of it. “Yes, he did. Got pup matching ones too.”

Pup. that’s you. Curled in the center of the nest under Hobi's elbows. dozing but unable to lift your head from where it's pillowed. You’re sure that Yoongi knows you’re kind of awake or at least listening in because Yoongi knows everything.

You’re sure that as he looks down at you and Hobi tangled together, he’s doing it with a smirk. You don’t need to open your eyes and double-check.

The temperature of the nest is balmy, overly warm in the way that it gets when it’s cold outside and the nesting is hitting so particularly good that Hobi won’t even think of moving. (The way it feels when you come out of the cold and into the waiting arms of someone you love) Hobi nuzzles into the warmth in front of him.

A small storm brews outside. The snow has been falling since midday. Just a little here and there. But Tae loves how it looks with all the Christmas lights. There aren’t quite enough up yet but the holiday season is close.

But the snow won't last, soon it won’t be falling at all. It will all melt off by tonight, the afternoon is supposed to be sunny. Can sun showers happen with snow?

"Do you think we could walk all the way to the gym, it's not all that far! only like 10 miles. We could run it in like an hour!"

He listens to the others talk. The sound of Yoongi’s voice, gravely and vaguely upset. “Jungkook, you’re not really thinking about going to work out right now- You’ve barely been home for like 5 hours. I just said we could go do something not run 10 fucking miles.”

Jungkook always gets this way; when the dizziness of the seizures turns to restlessness and he's honestly fine but the others can't resist trying to baby him. Too awake to sleep anymore. He sounds grumpy, whiney, and pouty even though Hobi's eyes aren't open to see him turn his puppy eyes on Yoongi. “I’m never going to be able to sleep tonight if I don’t hyung- I’m gonna go crazy.”

There’s the faint sound of lips meeting and smacking. Kisses that are probably meant to soothe Jungkook. “How about we compromise pup.”

“A walk?” Tae offers, sounding hopeful.

“A long walk.”

You shift a little and Hoseok opens his eyes. You're mostly still asleep just settling, making yourself more comfortable with the new space no longer corralled by arms and bodies.

Hobi’s mouth is dry when he watches you shift onto your stomach your face half-smushed into the cushions, scenting them a little in your sleep. The homey scent fizzle in Hoseok’s bones tells him that you've scented him too. Being surrounded by the pack's scent like this makes Hobi’s skin feel like pop rocks. Like his bones are mentos and coca cola. All sensitive and tingly.

He’s cuddled with you before- through your nightmares and last night at the hospital of course- but it’s never been just the two of you in a nest. He’s never been the only alpha here, charged with guarding the pillows and blankets and you curled soft in the center.

Hobi tentatively puts an arm around your waist, tugging you a little closer. The house still hasn't totally warmed up yet and you'd be cold without some body heat. He does it slowly, seeing if you’ll wake.

There is a hand in his hair, petting softly, and he snatches his arm from around your waist the second Hoseok realizes he's being watched. Yoongi leans over the edge of the couch-turned-nest, smirking a little. The door shuts behind Tae and Jungkook with a puff of cold air, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly.

He would look intimidating if his beanie didn't have cat ears.

The pads of Yoongi's fingers rub soothing circles under Hobi's jaw and his lips part unintentionally. “Be good yeah?” he says, whisper soft. Hoseok just nods, too sleepy to verbally respond.

They haven’t talked much about Hobi’s confession; that night on the beach what feels like ages ago. But everytime he thinks of it Hobi still tastes salt on his tongue and your name on his lips.

Yoongi’s wearing the same look now that he did then; half hopeful and half worried. But if there was anyone that would object on your behalf, if Hobi wasn't allowed this closeness with you, Yoongi would tell him.

Yoongi doesn't say that you and him aren't ready for cuddling like this. Yoongi doesn't say that Hoseok should give you space or not cradle you to his chest like you are something as fragile and necessary and as doomed as his beating heart. Trembling and stuttering with the force of sweet expectations and hopes made hollow with satisfaction.

Yoongi does not realize that Hoseok's heart has not had a steady beat since he woke up holding you.

Yoongi doesn't say anything. Yoongi just drags a single knuckle down his cheek and leaves. Heading out after Tae and Jungkook who are, judging from the hallow sound of snow hitting the windows- are having a snowball fight.

“If one of those hits me I’m not holding anyone’s hand for the whole walk-“

The door keeps out the sound of Tae's sweet giggles and Jungkook’s pouted, "just one hyung- I won't hit your face-"

And the two of you are alone. Wrapped up warm, quiet and hushed, just the two of you.

Well, except for Noodle.

The meticulously kept edge of the nest is all fluffed, Noodle makes sure of it. Small paws depressing the blanket as he kneads it and then settles on the edge. His purr is audible from here as he blinks slowly from the bottom of the couch turned nest. Jin wrangled him for a brushing yesterday morning and his coat still looks extra fluffy and kempt.

Unwatched and unjudged, Hobi tentatively reaches to cradle your ribs again. Thumb smoothing down the center of your stomach, a little close to your belly button. You’ve got a little hair there. Hobi’s fingers like the feel of it. Not rough but not silky.

Your skin feels like champagne bubbles and sparklers, everywhere he touches your skin goes fizzy. Hobi looks down at you, breath hitching, and thinks Is it really so horrible to want this? Why am I so afraid of this?

You wiggle a little closer in your sleep and Hobi’s arm goes vicelike.

Noodle's purr goes a little louder.

Hobi doesn’t like to think about his last pack ever, but he recognizes that hollow ache and tug that says memories aren’t too far behind. And it threatens to swallow him until he looks down at you. The house is quiet but your eyebrows are puffed up like something very shocking is happening in your dreams. He doesn't want to think about them right now.

He drags his nose across your hairline; scenting you. Tasting your emotions on his tongue. Comfort. Ease. Arousal-sweet. Not all that abnormal. Not nightmares then. He is always on the lookout for them. After Jungkook and the hospital, he sort of thought they might come back.

Hoseok counts his stars and snowflakes, and rests his forehead against the nape of your neck.

Over the next hour, you’re restless. Moving, worming your way closer to him as he goes in and out of sleep. You make a soft noise and he shushes you. a growl that says to stay put and alpha's here.

You blink slowly up at him. Hobi pulls back, taking his arm from around your waist, feeling like he’s just stolen candy from a jar on the counter that’s for him anyway. You stretch and don't comment on it, yawning.

Noodle hops closer, squirming between the two of you and stepping over your shoulders. Meowing right in Hoseok’s face. “Alright alright, I’ll feed you again.”

You snuggle into the warm hallow he left on the couch when he detangles himself, hand under your cheek watching him as he stumbles out of the nest. Noodle follows tail held high. It's truly horrible. Leaving the nest when every bit of Hobi's body wants him to stay in the warmth. The house is always so slow to warm up.

“Fuck the floors are cold.”

“Quick,” you say, face above the edge of the cover. Hoseok rushes, doling out a single scoop of dry food and then running back to you. Hobi wastes precious seconds to grab his headphones from the kitchen table before collapsing onto the couch where you hold the blanket up, sealing the warmth and him back inside. The headphones tangle between the two of you and he falls with a giggle. Disappearing among the white blanket. He sinks thankfully into the warmth, into the safety that the nest offers. Into you.

Your warm arms wrap around his shoulders and his body shivers delightfully in a way that has nothing to do with the cold. Your jaw pops when you yawn and then he yawns too, a breath later. You laugh too and tuck your face into his shoulder.

“Fuck- it’s so cozy.”

It really is, the kind of cozy that only comes along a few times a year. A quiet to your bones that says there is nothing to do now but rest. The coldness that turns your bodies into these molten-loving things. Your warmth and Hoseok’s warmth. One warmth.

He breathes, deep and heavy.

“I don’t know if I want to get up yet.” The house is still quiet. Nothing but Noodles happy munching sounds and the faint scratch of big snowflakes hitting the windows.

Hobi’s heart beats frantic against yours and you sigh. “Wanna listen to some music?” He offers. Hobi always loves a backtrack, a little compliment for the exposition.

You nod, a little sleepy, but Hobi has a playlist for that. He’s got a playlist for everything including ’sleepy cozy pup time’. The headphones take a second to locate, lost in the nest. But when he does you share them. One earphone a piece, the sound turned low so you can still talk.

Hobi puts on a love song, and it makes you smell all sweet. Stretched out with your hair tangling because you’ve left it unbound, the split ends prodding at Hobi’s cheeks. He doesn’t really listen to the song, just watches you. Eyes closed humming softly.

Your scent sours and Hoseok's hand goes tight on your wrist. You tell him what's bothering you without him even having to ask.

“I saw this line the other day that didn't like." You look at the ceiling, not at him. "it said a love song is really good if you can’t tell whether they’re talking about another person or if they’re talking about god.”

You think about Jimin and Tae. You've been thinking about it since Tae talked about their childhood earlier and the bloody cross between the two of them. If holiness does exist, it’s in Tae. If there is anything like religion for you or Jimin, it's love. God has nothing to do with it. God's not the person who makes love songs sound good.

Hobi turns on his side, leaning on his elbow. “I’m not sure Jimin would agree with that either.”

You turn in time to see Hobi’s smile. It catches the sunlight, lingering right on his cheek. An octagonal shaft of sunlight that has traveled millions of miles to get there could not have found a more beautiful place to fall. He huffs a quiet laugh again, and you swear you might hear the highest note of a piano somewhere.

You wonder when he became so musical to you, maybe it’s just because he’s the person who made you love music so much.

(You can tell a love song is good, when it makes you think of Hobi).

“You’re still worried about him, aren’t you?” You rest your lips against his shoulder and Hobi’s body doesn’t move an inch. They’re soft where they lie not a kiss but not not a kiss either. You can rest your lips against his skin, you can rest your whole body and Hoseok wouldn't move an inch.

“Always worried, got to worry about Minnie. Always worried about everyone.” You mumble. Eyes closing.

The light comes through the windows all honey yellow, turning the bookshelves that Yoongi made gold instead of white. Turns the tops of Hobi’s hair a little red too, the brown has endless depths in the sunlight all burnt umber and Sienna where the sun hits, yellow ocher at the tips. The sunlight savors falling on Hobi, down to the last inch.

You try to keep your eyes open, struggling, and Hobi sets a hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair lightly.

"Go back to sleep pup."

You hum, already half there. He pulls you a little on top of him, holding you with a firmness usually reserved for too-large packages and the tenderness reserved for very fragile very precious things. It makes your whole body feel tingly at the edges.

“Thanks for not leaving the nest when everyone else did,” you think he might be asleep for how long it takes him to answer. But everything in the last 24 hours has left you feeling like you don’t want to be alone, that you can’t be left by yourself. He breathes up and it presses against your stomach.

“Didn’t want to go with the others- just wanted to stay here in the nest with you.” nesting is a biological need for alphas as much as it is for omegas, Hobi hasn't felt so relaxed in ages.

He murmurs, hand still skimming through your hair. His thumb rolling against the nape of your neck and you shiver hard into the touch, sinking further into him. “Is that okay?”

Your hand finds a spot under his arm and you use it to tug yourself closer, getting your forehead against his shoulder, the headphones slipping from your ear.

“Yeah. It’s always okay.”

Hobi tucks your hair behind your ear and puts the headphones back in.

The next time you wake it’s because Noodle is licking at your forehead, grooming you, and you hear the shutter sound of Hobi’s camera, his small giggle. You swat at noodles face and he bats at you a little before settling on the small of your back, fighting Hobi for necessary real-estate and howling when he gets pushed off.

“Nu, be quiet,” Hobi’s hushed words are answered with an equally quiet meow that sends you straight off to dreamland again.

You don't know how long it's been, it could have been hours or minutes the next time you wake. You just know that Hobi smells good, smells musky sweet caramel all drippy and heady, that you've got your nose pressed up against his scent gland. All surrounded by it. Surrounded by him.

The next time you wake is not so innocent.

You’re a little too close. Cuddling with Hobi in a way that you might with Yoongi- with Namjoon or Jungkook. All warm snug hot. Bodies and dreams tangled so thoroughly that it's hard to tell where dreamy wants begin and fragile delights end.

You’re warm at your front from Hobi and warm on your back from the sunshine streaming through the window. Warm all the way through. Until he moves his hand and you realize that’s from him too. His fingers splayed over your spine.

You think you can be forgiven for confusing them. Hoseok and sunlight are one and the same.

The apex of your thigh is pressed tight to his hip just where his thigh starts. Your leg hitched over his hip and tight to it. The fabric of his sweatpants and the fabric of your pajama shorts are all bunched up from your movements. Your knee bent at a comfortable angle. His scent is heady in your nose, pressed to the low tugged collar of his shirt just over his heart.

As close as you can be but still not enough.

You don't even realize your hips are moving, sleepily grinding against his thigh until it's too late.

Hobi grabs your hips and groans.

You stop mid-movement, thoughts sloshing sleepy. And oh, you were moving, weren’t you? There is a dampness between your thighs and the scent of slick and arousal sharp in the air. That comfortable pleasure hiccup in your throat that says you want to cum and can. could like this.

You jerk back from the warmth in front of you, startled into wakefulness as you realize exactly you were just doing.

Oh no- you didn’t mean- Hobi. Alpha, warm and comfortable at your front.

You start to back up, still half asleep, but terror and embarrassment flood you like the ocean floods the sea rocks at high tide.

Hobi groans, a deep near growl sound, and moves before you can back up even an inch. he was just as asleep as you just were until you pulled away. His sleepy brain still clings to you.

His hands slip lower, holding you tight against his front. His sleepy alpha brain is malfunctioning. Sweet omega needs to stay close. The source of his warmth and the friction against his front cannot slip away.

His hands are on your ass and your pussy is pressed flushed to his hip, and Hobi-

Hobi is your best friend, Hobi is your packmate and Hobi has to be unaware of what he’s doing. You’re sure of it. You try to pull away again from him fighting back more embarrassment than you've ever felt in your entire life, hands pressed to his chest.

But He pulls you right back to him.

Right into a unmistakable hardness poking at your stomach. Hard and warm. Right where you were grinding in your sleep.

Hoseok’s heavy breath brushes your ear.

Instincts are incredibly hard to describe. The way they hook into your consciousness and separate reason from action and want from logic. The part of you that’s in control, that recognizes that you and Hobi shouldn’t be this close like this if it’s not talked about, is so distant.

A needy sound echoes that might be from you, that is from you, as Hobi’s hands slide up your hips and under his sweatshirt. Cold hands on your warm hips and oh-

Hobi’s eyes are cracked open, looking down at you, watching you with pink cheeks. Tongue darting out to lick at his lip. “S’okey you just-" his eyes flutter closed again; breath warm against your face. "You take what you need.”

It’s only a testament to the pack's care that you associate these things with each other. Safety and coziness are just so close to pleasure and comfort. Your sleepy body associates this kind of nesting with sex. it's only natural that you'd get a little needy while inside of it.

You can get needy, Hobi doesn't mind.

Before either of you can say if you really should, if this is really a good thing to do without talking about it first. Hobi’s hands are on your waist, pulling you back snug, his hard thigh between your legs.

If you were more awake, you’d think better of it, you’d think so much but there is only that sweet pressure. The drag, the wetness, the soft little huffs of breath that he shushes when he lets you take what you need. Helps you with his hands on your hips and guides you back into rocking against his thigh.

You feel it all the way down to your toes when his hands slide down to the curve of your ass then back up again, underneath the hem of your shorts and then your sweatshirt- his too (all of you his). Rucked up to your ribs.

“Soft.” Hobi groans.

This must not be real. This has to be a dream. Because Hobi doesn't want to touch you like this, Hobi doesn't groan and twitch against your stomach or guide the movement of your hips with his hands into a slow grind that has you gasping against his jaw. Hobi doesn’t leave the seat of your pajama bottoms soaked with slick. Hole clenching around nothing already. Utterly boneless where you lie against his front.

There is one single moment where you look at each other, one single moment where you try to keep from going any farther. Even though you want it, even though he wants it too. If Namjoon and Jin have taught you anything they've taught you caution.

Hoseok can smell the others lingering on your skin, the spot on the top of your head where Yoongi rested his cheek. He leans down, brushing his lips over it. It’s such a tender gesture and it breaks the flood and he's tugging you up, tugging you even closer, desperation coloring his voice all sweet.

“Fuck- please.” His forehead rests against yours, “fuck I just need-“

You're not sure who moves first, who starts the kiss only that once you’re kissing him it’s hard to stop. One second you're holding back and the next you're kissing him like he's Yoongi and he's kissing you like he's starving.

Teeth clanging against each other, harsh as they nip. Kissing so good that when you pull apart for breath you're both gasping and it has nothing to do with needing air.

Hobi has such nice lips it’s no wonder that they’re heart-shaped. Made for kissing, made for the needy needy licking against the seam of his lips. He shifts turning you on your side, surging up to kiss you properly and put his weight behind it. cradling your head with one hand and your side with the other. You’re so pliant, so willing to let him kiss and take. You want him to take everything. arms around his neck.

He breaks apart, forehead resting against yours, heart beating so quick that he can feel it in his palms. Pupiles blown when he blinks. “If you take what you need, and I take what I need- Can we-“

Your hands thread hard in his hair. Tugging him back to your lips. Closer and closer. “Fuck Yes- please-“

You don’t know where the wanting comes from, why it’s raging through you like a fire. His lips move against yours frantic, you bite his lip and he jerks. Hovering over you with your back against the nest, all tingly and fizzy. Your bones feel like champagne popping, like shooting stars burning out.

Hobi’s hands shake when they touch your hips, just like yours do when you mirror him, your touches shy but just as hungry, tugging up his shirt, fingertips and nails pressing bluntly to his happy trail of fine dark hair. You can feel the way his cock jumps against your stomach and thigh when you scratch gently.

You pull back a little and sit up and it’s sacred; the way that he panics, scrambling to hold onto you. You're A little bit shy when you take off his sweatshirt, nothing underneath. hair fluffing when you get it free from the cotton.

Your bare skin and the cold room. You get goosebumps on your arms almost instantly when they cross over your bare chest. Hobi’s breath stutters in his chest, like roman candles flare and settle. Hobi takes his sweatshirt from you and sets it aside in his haste to hold you again.

He starts to tugs his pants down, getting tangled because he won't even pull back an inch from you. You kiss his throat, again and again making up for lost time. Sucking a mark there. His hands fumble with the waistband of his tied tight grey sweatpants. finding the loops and then freeze when he feels wetness. Pulling back and looking down just to make sure that that is what he thinks it is. you stop your kissing and look too.

There is a wet spot, darkening the grey material. Your slick from your grinding, the spot where you got so worked up and felt so good that you couldn't even help it. He pulls back so that the light can kiss it but yeah that's definitely from you. Evidence of how much you want this. Evidence of how much you want him.

Hoseok thinks you might have actually set his body on fire. Is about ready to start checking your fingers for matches.

You blush so hot that you think you might be burning in embarrassment. Hands between your legs, clutching at the material of the nest, so embarrassed you can't watch as Hoseok looks down at it and then up at you.

“I’m sorry I- I can’t help it- I'm always-“

Hobi’s hands smooth over the wet patch, splaying up to cradle his cock where you’ve left your mark. And he looks at you, jaw rolling and eyes dark. He doesn’t say anything. Can’t.

It’s hasty how you both move to take his pants off, and he kicks them to some forgotten corner of the nest, his boxers pulled off too, and then clings to you. You cling to each other. Kissing again. Hands knotting through his hair and tugging.

You glance down and oh- Hobi has such a pretty cock. the prettiest in the pack maybe (don't tell Tae), Flushed at the tip, hair neatly trimmed and curving up.

Your bare thighs press to his adds a whole new level to this, the skin there is sensitive and unknown. Lying thigh to thigh somehow feels more intimate than chest to chest as you lie the way lovers do, your leg, his, then yours again.

You’re damp between your legs when he touches, hands shaking. He doesn't bother to take off your shorts just tugs the soaked bit of fabric to the side. It’s been a long time since he’s touched a pussy but he knows enough to do it gently. Petting over your folds like he’s teasing a flower to bloom and opening a rose for a bouquet.

“Please” you gasp, hand vicelike around his wrist. Kissing his frantic pulse again. Hot lips and a cold nose drag down his throat. You hiccup as the pads of his fingers find your clit, shaking against him. "Please-"

But you don’t need to ask, you don’t need to beg. Whatever you need Hobi will give it to you. Your hands scratch as his back when he presses close, snaking underneath his sweatshirt. Breath heavy.

He kisses your neck and bites it when his length brushes the wetness between your thighs. Hot and honey slick. his hips press to your hips, harsh lines of his thighs pointing low that you like. There is so much about Hobi that you like; the way that he kisses, the way that he touches. oh- it’s better than you imagined.

His knuckles are glossy with your slick when he curls them against the nest, holding himself up.

Hobi bends down to skim a kiss across your neck, your collarbones, your sternum.

You laugh, your giggle high and bright. He has to pull back, not upset at all but wanting to laugh too, giggling too. “Why are you?”

Your smile means everything to him. “Your hair tickles.” It is kind of fluffy, kind of pulled everywhere from your kissing and you run your fingers through it, scratching a little around the nape of his neck, and Hobi is done playing.

He pulls back, already dripping a bit of precum, silvery and pearl like at the head of his cock, standing against his stomach. a little hidden because he's still wearing his sweatshirt. Checking because he can’t not check.

“Is this- can I- fuck are you-“

“Daisy, please-“ Oh, how that pet name unhinges him.

He won't make you wait another second for it, hands shaking as he holds your hip. Shushing your needy whimpers with a soothing alpha rumble as he guides his cock close. Giving you what you both need.

Hoseok is not as big as Namjoon or Tae or Jimin, but he’s properly thick. Not the kind of thickness that knocks the breath out of you but the kind that fits just right. Not enough to make you ache or hurt even a little. It doesn’t hurt at all when he eases in slowly.

It doesn’t hurt at all.

That might be because of how soaked you are; dripping messy underneath the warm humidity of the blanket. The visual of your glossy pussy robbed from him but unimportant as Hobi stares at your face, resting his head against your forehead. Watching your eyes dilate and eyelashes flutter. “There we go- fuck-”

It’s not worth pulling back to separate how close you are. How good it feels to press his chest to your chest, not even a single inch separating you. His kisses go gentle and messy, moving against yours in a gentle rhythm just like his hips after he gives you a second to grow used to it. Rocking just a little.

Hoseok has heard the others talk about your pussy, those moments that he tried to block out at the beginning and then started to file away once loving you got more real. But for everything he's heard from his packmates, nothing compares to the reality.

The closeness. The way your hips fit. The hot- too much- clench around him.

He understands a little maybe, fully buried in you for the first time, why they talk about it so much. Why Jungkook had slipped it into dirty talk a few times with Namjoon and why it had made him growl and cum so quick. Why Tae had teased Yoongi for hogging you.

Your pussy feels like an inside joke in all the best ways, the kind of inside jokes that always have you feeling both known and loved. You can’t remember what you used to laugh about when you were a teenager and if asked Hoseok would fail to describe why sex with you feels so full. Why it feels like highlights and golden ages, the golden hour drenching you. It’s not sex for pleasure’s sake and it's not sex for closeness's sake either- although that’s part of it.

It’s not sex at all, it's making love. With Hobi, it’s making love from the beginning.

It's not instincts and mating bond urges. It’s not one submissive giving to a dominant. It’s not about protection and safety even though that's there or because you're an omega and he's an alpha. Because he's a man and you're a woman.

It's just love, that's it.

And it doesn’t hurt at all. For either of you.

The eye contact is never ending, his warm and fucked out the more he rocks. Gentle at first and building up frantic. Hobi doesn’t fuck like the rest of the pack does either; he doesn’t speak, letting out these quiet heavy breaths and shushing your squeaks with soothing alpha grumbles. His thumb wiping away the few overwhelmed tears that slip out and a smile swallowing your hiccuping breaths.

"Fuck” he breathes, moving his hips a little faster. His stomach presses to yours damp and tacky with sweat. Hoseok’s doesn't fuck in and out all the way, hardly moving away from you at all. Just rocking in deep.

Hobi doesn’t stop hitting every spot, comfortable with these unending rocks of his hips, maddening in the way that he never stops filling you. Never pulls out even half way.

Your hands weakly clench in the blankets of the nest as he twitches right there. That sensitive spot inside of you that feels like courting ecstasy when he nudges it. It’s the same spot that Yoongi likes to tease at, the spot that only his long fingers can reach properly and Tae’s too when she’s really trying. Ghosting over it and petting at it until you’re mad with pleasure.

But Hobi doesn’t tease, Hobi just gives. rubbing against it again and again with every gentle roll of his hips.

you put your hand over your mouth to quiet your whimpers when he pulls back, sitting up just a little. Holding your waist and forcing your body further down on his cock, nudging it as deep as it can go and you sob.

Hobi grins, a little cocky, a little pleased that despite his size compared to the others you're still equally as wrecked.

“Right there yeah?” he teases, and then rocks against it again. thumbs pressing against your stomach where he cradles you. waist so tiny that they almost meet when he holds you.

Your cheeks are hot, and you have to turn and whimper into the pillow. he lets you shift so that you're belly down in the nest and he's behind you glued to your backside. lying his weight down behind you like a blanket. pressing you into the nest where you'll stay like a good pup.

Hoseok instincts are absolutely purring. omega, getting bred in such a pretty nest. Good warm soft omega.

Your hand laces with the blanket, needing something to hold onto and he kisses the back of your neck, treading your hands together as he keeps going. This new position lets him rock in even deeper, putting his weight behind it.

“If you keep going, I’m not gonna be able to-”

His breath ghosts your ear, lips dragging down the column of your throat to nip and suck gently at your scent gland, marking you there. his hand presses, holding you to the bed as he rocks harder. His barely formed knot already inside and growing, getting you closer and closer as it thickens. Keeping him right there at the spot and you on the edge. You're so wet it's making noises, soaking and dripping down his cock.

He kisses your mating mark, nipping at it, and you’re gone.

You cum, a wet gush around his knot and a broken whimper. a growl in his throat sounds loud in the empty house. It sounds like made mate happy, made omega cum for me. Hoseok's Alpha is absolutely preening watching your Legs shake, the nape of your neck sweaty, body slack and head tilting to bear your neck. both of your bodies messy from it, filthy and blushing with love.

Hobi’s not far behind, rocking another time, a third, a quiet satisfied breath into the back of your neck before his knot pops locking you together as he cums so gently. No growls or gasps, just hot spurts that fill and satisfy you. Knot popping and Locking you so close you can feel his cock pulse. So close you can feel the same heartbeat on his lips when kisses you, hurried kisses pressed to the nape of your neck that quickly go slack with sleep.

Your hand settles across your stomach, and oh- you realize why hobi wasn't bothered by how wet he got you earlier. He just keeps cuming, so much that it's leaking a little around his knot. You're not sure that Jimin or Tae or Yoongi cum this much, Namjoon definitely does- but thats kinda proportional.

he just keeps going, heat flooding you. Maybe he's only cumming so much because it's the first time, and he needs to claim you from the inside out. you're a little too dizzy to figure it out.

You feel like you might pass out. You don't know if it's squirt or cum or just sweat when he lies himself over you. cuddling closer despite the mess. Teeth at your bared throat, Sucking softly, Soothing.

instincts are kind of embarrassing at best, irrationally hot at worse. you squirm a little closer so that his knot goes deeper.

The sunlight spills across your cuddled forms, still underneath the big thick blanket. He doesn’t pull out, the knot keeping him snug tight. His hand is on your cheek, rubbing up and down your jaw. He pulls the blanket up around you. And neither of you says a word as your rapid breathing calms.

You’re not sure who falls back asleep first. Only that he wraps his arm around you and pulls you back on top of his chest, cuddled there. Knot warm and safe inside of you.

knotted together like this, you're finally finally close enough.

~-~

When Hobi wakes you’re watching him and his dick is out. Wet and slick and cold.

That would certainly cause him to be alarmed if it wasn’t for your expression; a little pale. Hands between your legs and looking at the doorway.

You just really don't want to drip cum onto the couch, like- obviously. Hobi didn't hurt you. But the brief terror at waking up uncuddled and so suddenly douses Hobi like a bucket of cold water.

The cold might be the actual reason for his sudden wakefulness. The wintry air in the room is jarring because the house is finally heating up. (as much to do with the heating system doing its job as it is with your activities earlier that turned the windows all hazy with condensation).

It's like someone had just come in and then abruptly left again. Your cheeks are pink, and there is a cloth on the side of the couch, folded and warm. You didn't get it for yourself.

“Don’t freak out, but Yoongi and the others walked in while you were asleep.”

You’re kind of glad that he wasn’t awake to see your mate barely contain his screech, jumping up and down with Jungkook in the entryway. Namjoon’s subtly grinning expression when he took in your appearance and paused in the cold doorway breathing in deeply. Tae wrapped around one arm; their walk interrupted by his return from surgery.

He groans, barely awake enough to think about the visual that Yoongi and the others were treated to. The consequences are better than a shot of expresso at wakeing him up.

But really, was there ever a possibility that the others wouldn’t find out about this? Does Hoseok even want them not to know?

He's too tired, too think about this logically.

Hoseok wonders why he didn’t wake to you holding him. He’s seen you hold the others, hold Namjoon in the morning when you smell like him. The way you wake slowly and run your fingers through their hair. The other alphas have a habit of cuddling up to rest their head against your chest. Hobi remembers that day by the beach when you pet his hair, he wants you to do that now.

But he can't fucking ask. Asking you to cuddle him would be fucking embarrassing.

“Shit." He shakes off his neediness and easily locates his boxers in the mess of the nest because they're bright red. Surreptitiously tucking his now soft and deflated knot back inside. You look away, letting him have that moment of privacy without comment. Your arms curl around your chest, you’re still nude from the waist up. thighs clenched togeather.

“Yeah uhm, they went back out to like- give us some space.”

"Did they say anything?"

You look away, wiggling over to the edge of the nest. "No. But they looked like they wanted to say a whole lot.”

You definitely don’t say that you heard their scuffle, Namjoon and Tae using their alpha privileges to wrangle an overly excited Yoongi and Jungkook. or that both of them had come back inside, both with pink cheeks smelling sweet at the sight of Hobi’s face pressed to your neck and the fresh hickeys at your throat.

(Hobi’s hickeys are always so small and cute. Tae can’t wait to take a picture and save it, for memory's sake. She’s half tempted to take out her phone and snap a picture of the two of you now.)

Your hiss of “Don’t say anything, I swear to fucking god if you wake him-" cured her of any bad ideas and had Namjoon grinning, his dimples showing.

Yoongi’s finger pressed to his lips in the doorway. Smiling wide and showing his gums. Omegas do get awfully protective over alphas in their nests. Especially post-knotting.

You’re honestly a little surprised that their muted shouting hadn’t woken Hobi. The closed door had kept out the cold but not the sound of them discussing on the porch; mostly Tae's insistence that they needed to get out of the house for lunch instead of heading back inside.

“But what if they need aftercare?”

"We shouldn’t leave them alone and unprotected.” (Classic Joonie).

“Yeah! What if they need cleaning!”

Yoongi snorts, “Gross Jk- I’m pretty sure the last thing they want is you licking up Hobi’s cum.”

“But he always likes it when it’s Jinnie-" that had your face and body heating (although that could just be Hobi- a literal furnace that he is wrapped around you).

Now his warmth is on the other side of the nest yet it feels impossibly farther away. As you both stew in silence under the weight of what you’ve done, what you just did.

Everything feels quiet and scary as you put yourselves back together in silence. You use the wet washcloth to keep yourself from dripping all over the couch while he looks for his pants in the mess of blanekts that smell like sex.

Thoughts like shit shit shit and what have you done ping-ponging back and forth across his brain. Mind bouncing between unlikely personal regrets and likely female rejection (of which he is only too familiar with).

Hobi doesn't like feeling rejected, it always brings up bad memories. He didn't wake up to you holding him. Is that a rejection or is his brain just making it up? People always hold each other after sex. Don't they?

You reach for his sweatshirt but before you can touch it a growl bursts forth from his throat and you freeze.

Hoseok scrubs a hand across his eyes, trying to wipe away the memories fitfully. Maybe it’s just because of the fact that he woke up and you weren’t wrapped around him. He's going to have to cuddle you himself if he wants it right now.

This first time with you reminds him of other first time's that didn’t end well. He's sorry for it the second it slips past his lips.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I just- my fucking instincts feel like they're on fire."

“So can I…?” you trail off. Your skin has goosebumps again. And Hoseok doesn’t know if it’s the casual nakedness that has him feeling so unmoored. A blush trailing its way up the back of his neck even though it shouldn’t be weird. He saw you shirtless every other hour during Namjoon’s rut for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah, just wear it- please wear it.” He can’t take back his growl, but he can meditate by watching you pick it up and hug it to your chest. Looking at him for a second as if to check that it’s still alright and he’s not going to snap at you again.

There is a hickey on your shoulder, the spot where it meets your arm. Hobi doesn’t know if it’s from him or someone else. It's a little too red to not be new. You don’t look uncomfortable being nude in front of him.

If anything, you look a little bit glowy.

You look at him and then pull it over your head. His cheeks still heating stubbornly as your chest moves a little, jiggling.

Why do girls have to just- girl all the time- it's honestly a little unfair how much hobi blushed.

He watches you, sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but his boxers as you stand up pulling the sweatshirt down your hips. He stares at you until you ask a little flustered by hiding it, “What?”

He tugs on the hem of his sweatshirt, slowly, carefully, leaning forward as he tugs on one of the strings with his teeth. His hands go to your waist pulling you close gently, half sure of himself and half afraid. Hoseok is always somehow half afraid. Is this allowed? Is this wanted?

He rests his head against your stomach, loosely twining his arms around your waist to pull you closer, still loose enough that you can step away if you want. All of this can stop if you don’t want it. He hopes you know that.

Hoseok looks down at your feet, not at your face. “I love it when you wear my clothes. I really don't know where that came from.”

“Careful,” you say, a grin in your voice. Your tone light because you don't want him to smell so sour again. “I’m gonna go for your pants next.”

You snatch his from the floor and dart away. Nothing excites an alpha’s instincts like a chase, and Hobi feels the fire light down his spine. His movements are a hunt-heavy blur. Brain honed in on you.

He catches you by the counter, your giggle echoing off the high ceilings. His blood heating again as he drags you by your hips and flops down into one of the bar stools, sitting you on top of him with a growl.

His hands grip hard around your waist, determined until he’s shy. Letting you go softly, “Sorry I just-”

“Instincts still? Don't worry I get it.” You give him his pants and sit up off his lap so that he can put them on. And now is not the time to get another boner Hobi- but it’s kind of hard not to when you smell so bred, so wholly satisfied.

Hobi did that. Hobi's the one who made you look like this drowning in the afterglow.

Your own instincts are telling you that you want to take the blankets from the couch and drag them upstairs, and tuck them in around the scents of the others. So that they can all see and smell how good you made your alpha feel.

Hoseok’s pleasure leaves an undercurrent to the air that’s intoxicating. Half sugar-sweet and musky alpha. Your body hums with it as he steps up close behind you, close enough you can feel his warmth and not his body, nose skimming the bruise he left close to your mating mark. Letting out a tired sigh.

You did just work off a lot of energy, regardless of the half-nappy half-cuddle fucking that just was; It's also left you fucking hungry.

As much as the kitchen has been a place of anxiety for you it really isn’t with Hobi there. There is still that tape line on the floor that guards you off from the stove, sink, and the fridge. Hobi steps out from behind you and goes to the fridge, getting out some of the prepped fruit that Yoongi almost always keeps on hand.

But you keep looking at the kitchen, the pans hanging above the sink, your mixer sitting dusty in the corner. The hanging mugs. Everything.

He brings it to you, setting it down in front of where you sit. instincts making his eyes fever bright. He watches a little too intently as you lift a raspberry to your mouth. Something about watching you eat cools his instincts, making him release a taught breath.

He watches as you lift another piece, a blackberry to your lips and bite down. Almost purring, too afraid of what might slip out if he speaks. He half wants to do it himself and feed you from his fingertips. But that’s a little too embarrassing to consider.

A minute later, after you’ve eaten half a dozen more pieces, he reaches past you, about to get a piece of peach. He doesn't think anything of it, but when he reaches past your face- you flinch.

It happens so quick that he almost doesn’t even catch it. One second your cheek is turned straight and the next your eyes are darting from him to the bowl. Scent souring with fear and memories from Geumjae.

Fuck. (No cuz actually- fuck Geumjae.)

You don’t look at him with fear, you just look at him with a strange sort of sadness in your eyes. Sorry. Like you’re sorry for being scared. hoseok's hand goes tight on the counter.

"I'm sorry."

Hobi sits down. Holds your hands in his, and waits for a second before he speaks. makes his words quiet and gentle because anger at someone dead and gone has no place here.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” You have nice hands, warm where they press into his. And he cradles them, your knuckles flexing vaguely in his grasp, gentle but commanding.

“You’ll try not to, you mean."

You smile at him sadly. Hobi’s chest is tight with it. He needs you to know how much he means those words. How much he needs to mean them. But you both know how hard it is to promise that.

"No. I mean I’m not going to hurt you. Ever.” He repeats. You smile at him sadly again. And he knows his brief anger earlier when you touched his sweatshirt- usually such a normal thing for you- didn't escape you at all. But grief and mourning and memory always finds you at the worst times; after first times and on sunny winter afternoons.

The two of you are a mess, bodies teeming with the memories of failed loves, lost and broken. But you can ignore your triggers; such innocuous things as you wearing his sweatshirt and him reaching past your face. You can ignore your memories; the wretched and rotten ones, just for today.

You let the heavy moment pass and look at the other side of the kitchen. Hobi’s chest feels tight with something. Something that he needs to say but can’t just yet. You can only tell someone you love them for the first time once. You don’t get a second chance.

Hobi just wants to get it right.

You’re looking at the kitchen that Yoongi made for you, holding his hand still. using the other to feed yourself more fruit.

(Is there anything more intimate than holding hands with someone? It feels like more than the pads and lines of his fingers are pressed to yours. soul to soul and palm to palm. The future is written out right there but you ignore it. Love line, health line, fate. But the two of you are dedicated to writing your own end. Your love line is exactly the same length as his, not a millimeter longer).

Hoseok’s chest is still all tight. “What are you thinking about?”

“I haven’t made anything in months.” You sigh, sad. “I want to. I used to love baking, I used to-” you break off, sorrow making you quiet.

Hobi’s eyes are fixed on your shoulder. There are freckles there. He’s not sure why he’s never noticed them before or that you’ve got them dotting your back.

Hobi swallows past something in his throat. Pushing you gently from your chair until you're standing next to him. Cupping your waist because now that he's started touching you it's hard to stop. Now that he knows he’s allowed to touch you so casually, so affectionately, he going to keep doing it.

“Go. I’ll watch you, make sure you stay safe.” Because that’s the rule, isn’t it? Not that you can’t be in the kitchen at all, just that you need someone there to keep you safe.

The words feel tight in his throat, not easily said. I love you. He thinks as he watches you move to the mixer with a small but pretty smile that looks like daisies have taken root on your skin, everything sweet and flowering.

I love you. He thinks as he watches you get your cookbook from behind the mixer. I love you he thinks when he watches you place a mug from that morning in the sink. I love you he thinks as you get the sugar, the vanilla, the salt. He has to get up and get the flour for you, unwilling to have your arms strain underneath the heavy container, doting on you just because he can.

Just because he wants to, just because he loves you.

The shadow of what’s left on the bag hits his dark clothes like a ghostly outline when he holds it. The flour is a bit like you; everywhere he touches it leaves an impression. The rainbows from his suncatcher you put in the kitchen shift with the angle of the sunlight, winking out one by one as dusk falls.

He sits at the kitchen island and watches as you hum and flick through your recipe book. Golden hour fades to orange and pink the same way that roses fade.

He’s not sure why he blurts it out, why he asks, “What’s your favorite?”

You look up from your cookbook, everything is set out but still, the recipe is undecided. “What?”

Hobi can not look at you for this, instead looks at the kitchen island and the old butcher block countertop. Fingers toying along the edge where a knife left a gash.

“You always make everyone else’s favorites; Namjoon’s honey cakes, coffee-flavored things for Jin, the vegan stuff for Jungkook you know- but-” his eyes flick up to you in a moment of bravery. “What’s yours? What's your favorite?”

You think for a moment, a kitchen apart, fingers tapping on the countertop and Hobi can’t take his eyes off of you. His body feels a little achy but in that ‘was just fucked good’ sort of way that makes his breath deeper. Quieting some alpha part of him that always wants a little more. A little more scenting, a little more validation, a little more attention.

But everything can wait.

“My favorite thing to eat or my favorite thing to make?”

“Both. Either.” You glance at the clock. Going to the pantry for a second to double-check that you have everything you'll need. “I’ll have to make some of it from scratch but-" you look at him. “Do you have time?”

Hobi nods. “As long as you need.”

Hobi watches as you measure out the flour and sift it. Hobi watches as you wait for the eggs to get to room temperature and fucks with the playlist. His phone will eventually get splashed with coco but- it’s okay.

All of this is okay, all of this is I love you I love you I love you and I don’t know what to do with all of it, can you take someone it, please. I don’t have enough space in my body to hold all of it. Hoseok doesn’t speak for how sheer the impulse is just to blurt it out.

The yellow plastic mixing bowl keeps clattering against the counter as you stir the egg yolks until they froth up and fizz. Pouting you turn your eyes to him. “Can you help?”

Hoseok has to swallow back the words before they slip past. Hopping up a little too quickly. “Yeah of course.”

You don’t tell him what you’re making, let him guess. So many of your recipes need egg whites and vanilla. You let him put it together on his own. Hobi doesn’t peek at your recipe book and spoil the surprise.

Every action, every spoonful of sugar is I love you too, just say it. You don’t talk about the sex you just had and you don’t say I love you to him. You wait for him to say it first. You don’t say a thing besides; “Just a half teaspoon of that; drizzle it a little at a time, or else it clumps together. Good.” Hobi’s cheeks heat with every bit of praise and you have a lot of it for him.

Hobi looks away when you look up from the bowl, oh so carefully folding the batter and egg whites together. So gently that the hiss and bubble of whipped egg yolks disintegrating is hardly audible.

Hobi hasn’t baked since he was a kid; since he got into his head that chocolate chip cookies were totally something that an eight-year-old should be able to make on their own without adult supervision and almost burned his parents’ apartment to the ground. He tells you the story and you laugh.

He can tell that you’re making adjustments as you go. Adding in a bit of cinnamon, piping off the cookies in neat little lines, and then tapping them oh so carefully to get rid of the bubbles.

The stove preheats and then the tray goes in, filling the room with your scent. That cakey baking aroma that has him resting his head back against the cabinets when you sit on the floor and greedily breathing in.

You wait the 30 minutes like that, sitting on the floor between the cabinets and stove. Your feet pressed to his knees and a glass of lemonade between the two of you.

“You really like baking,” he says, and your eyelashes flutter, you must be getting tired. He takes your feet into his lap, using his hand to massage up your calf. Smiling when you sigh.

“Yeah, it makes me feel- I don’t know. I like making the world sweeter, just a little. Even if it’s just my little corner of it. Making things you guys like makes me happy too.”

“You know, you could go to culinary school if you wanted.” Hobi gets a little shy because you hadn’t explicitly told Jin and Namjoon not to tell anyone about your plans or your application (still pending). It will be a few more weeks until you find out, but that change is just on the horizon.

He's already seen Jimin perusing expensive leather bookbags and has overseen a recommendation letter coming from Namjoon’s email. Hobi might have read it for him to double-check because Hobi always notices things the others might gloss over. Jin and Tae had given it proof read too.

You make a noise in your throat, halfway between a hum in approval and a hum in distaste. “I don’t know, it seems like- a lot to do for a hobby.”

Hobi and you are the only two in the pack who wanted to go to college but didn’t. Couldn’t in your case because Geumjae wouldn’t let you and flunked out in his. He gets the lack of clarity in your voice; to go back or not go back. To try again or not try at all and not worry about whether or not you’re enough.

“I already started applying anyway. Namjoon and Jin and Tae put a lot of effort into helping me apply and-” You let out a frustrated sigh.

Hobi shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter. You can change your mind.” There is always time. You tap your toes against his shins and he grabs your feet and you jerk, ticklish. And he almost almost gives in to the urge to tell you he loves you right then and there.

“But could you be happy? Doing this all the time?” You turn, putting your hand over your eyes to peer into the oven and make sure that the ladyfingers are rising properly. “Doing it every day? Would it make you happy?”

You pause, hand on the door before replying in a small voice. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe I could be happy.”

You stand with a crack of your knees, sticking out your hand for Hobi and almost falling into him when he truly uses your hand to help himself up.

“Come on, we’ve got to make the whipped cream next-”

It goes like that, you both talking, and Hobi fucking with the playlist. Thinking three little words and not saying them.

You let the ladyfingers cool for a few minutes while you make the expresso. Dunking them in quickly. Piping out the honey-flavored whipped cream in sticky little dollops. Shaking out the cocoa with a practiced hand.

You make the caramel for the top last. Sugar-burning, glass-like little strands on top for a bit of crunch.

The tiramisu is a delicate creation, the layers perfectly spaced out in just the right ratio of cream to chocolate. You let it sit for a second in the fridge and when you take it out, you cut it into a single perfect little square and put it on a plate for him. Treading over the blue painter’s tape line and lingering by him where he sits.

“Try it.” You ask and he does obediently.

Hobi takes a bite of it, rolling the flavors around his tongue while you watch. You haven’t cut a piece for yourself just yet, but you have a fork. You stand on the other side of the kitchen island and take a bite from the other corner of the pan, humming happily when the taste hits your tongue.

It really is your favorite. You grin at the plate, “I could finish this whole thing in one sitting.”

Hobi takes another bite. It’s really good, the flavors are simple but delicate, each of them identifiable but yet cohesive. He could eat all of it too.

Hoseok swallows and realizes why it's your favorite; It tastes like all of you- like the pack.

The honey whipped cream is Jin and Jungkook, and the chocolate cocoa on top is your mate; dark chocolate like an Oreo cookie. Hobi thinks it might not be normal cocoa. The homemade ladyfingers are soaked through with Namjoon's coffee and the cake itself is a delicate dance of Tae’s cinnamon, Jimin’s vanilla, and your scent too. Buttery and yummy.

He's finished half of what's on his plate before he realizes that you added the crunchy layer on top, the caramel too.

That’s Hobi isn’t it? The Burnt sugar sweetness. He knows that’s not typical but still, you added in anyway. The smell of caramel is thick in the air. Sweet sweet sweet. Hobi always smells the sweetest when he’s falling in love.

The tiramisu tastes like the whole pack. Like love soaked threw. Hobi’s heart and body is full of it.

He thinks this might be his favorite too.

Hobi tries to blink back the wetness, really tries not to cry as he takes another big bite. He gets a little bit of whipped cream on his lip, licking it and sniffling. You pause, a bite hovering between the plate and your mouth before you set down your fork with a clink.

“Oh Hobi”

The space between you is nothing more than air as you quickly head around the kitchen island. You cup both of his cheeks and he sags into the touch, hands instantly going over yours to keep them there. Tears spilling warm and unabated down his cheeks.

Hobi decides right then he is beyond pretending that he doesn’t want it, that he doesn’t want you. Wet cheeks and imploring eyes.

“Oh Hoseok, what’s wrong?”

You’re standing between his legs and your collarbone rests against his cheek. Your hand runs through his hair and his heart pulses hard.

"I didn’t mean to make you cry. If this is because-” you trail off. You don’t say that you shouldn’t have had sex earlier because you can’t find it in yourself to regret this even a little bit. But you are sorry for not doing it in a way that didn't make him cry. If that's why he's crying.

“No it’s not that. I just-" Hoseok can hardly speak his mouth is so full of love that it bursts from him before he has a chance to think it through. Sobbing a little as he says it;

"I'm crying because I love you and I don’t know how to tell you.”

Hobi stutters and your hands on his cheeks go firm for a second before they relax. “I love you; I love being around you, I love that you're my best friend and that i get to love you too. I love living in this house with you. I’m crying because for the first time I get it-”

He can’t stop the confession now that it's started, and if he'd just open his eyes he'd get to see your smile but they're screwed shut tight.

“I get it, I get why once Yoongi met you, he couldn’t leave. I understand why he brought you back to us. But-” he hiccups and you giggle a little at the sound. His eyes shoot open and he realizes that you're crying too- that you haven't stepped away. You wipe away his tears with your thumbs and grin down at him.

“I'm so fucking afraid too- I can’t help but feel like the way we started just- fucked everything up. I fucked everything up back then by being jealous. I look at you and I’m scared I’ll fuck this up.”

You hold his face in your hands and think; I will be gentle with you, I will be gentle with you even if it kills me. You have never loved someone broken like you, and you know how easy it is to make a wrong step. But you’re sure when you say the words anyway.

“You won’t.”

“But-” you kiss his hands, knuckles, fingertips. His forehead, his lips Everything. Your eyes are focused and Hobi can’t look away.

“You won’t, you promised not to hurt me and you won’t.”

He falls silent, and you pull him in close. His lips still tingle from your kiss and you kiss him again, long and lingering, hard with the force of your conviction. It tastes like tiramisu.

When you break apart, Hoseok rests his ear on your heart and listens.

You should say I love you back, you really should return the words. But you think there will be other moments to say them. You'll say it when you wake up with him tomorrow morning, you'll say it when you fall asleep tonight curled close to him. There will be more time to say them- during a late-night drives when you look over at him in the dark. There are always going to be more times to say it and you’ll say it and mean it every time.

Unfortunately, life isn't so neat and tidy.

You wipe his cheeks and he wipes yours and you both giggle, leaning into each other. You get him a tissue for his nose and start laughing all over again. Being with Hobi will always be like this, half your lover and half your best friend.

“Do you want to go on a drive later, only,” you wipe tears from your own eyes, “want to take the others this time?”

He smiles, “That’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”

He tries to pull you in for another kiss but you feed him a bite of tiramisu instead and it gets half on his cheek, “finish your cake alpha,” you command, and Hobi is perilous to disobey. the next bite you take ends up on your cheek too because he tickles you, and you blush when he leans forward to lick it off your cheek. All giggly and happy and close. You sat practically on the edge of the counter. Noodle meows and laps up some of it from the floor.

You don’t need to say I love you back, you already have. Hobi can taste it on the edge of every bite.

You cut him another piece and share it this time, and he can't stop looking at you, can't stop smiling.

You smile around a mouthful, "i'm gonna tear up that train ticket."

"Don't you fucking dare. We've gotta like- put it in a scrap book or something."

You clean up the tiramisu, thinking of what might happen when the pack gets back, thinking of how things will go now that you’ve settled this. They’ll be happy; all of you all together finally. This last piece of your little family finally falling into place.

Maybe it will go like this:

Maybe when the pack gets home, there will not just be tiramisu on the counter. Maybe there will be gluten-free lemon bars and honey cakes. Chocolate ginger cookies dusted with powdered sugar and freshly baked bread with cheese and garlic. Little personal cheesecakes that you made in a muffin tin dotted with jam preserve because now that you’ve started to bake again there might not be anything to stop you.

You already feel the urge in your hands, the urge to make things. You think it might have been learned from Yoongi.

Maybe they’ll come home with pizza, unsure if a party and alcohol is really the proper way to go about celebrating, but the cake from the bakery that Tae will buy as a joke, will have flowery lettering and “congrats for losing your Hobi-ginity"

It will make you laugh until your lungs ache like the fireworks have gone off. Will make him blush and rub the back of his neck in shyness.

When they come home there might be a few sly comments but the pack knows when to tease and when not to. Maybe Namjoon will take a hearty sniff at Hoseok’s throat, dragging it up and down the nape of his neck, huffing happily. (Namjoon has always been a little bit possessive of Hoseok the same way Jin has always been possessive of you, but that's pack alpha's for you).

Tae will tuck your hair behind your ears to get a better look at the mark he left on your throat, manicured fingers gently stroking over it. and Yoongi will shoot him a challenging look and drawl, "really daisy? is this really something you wanna start?" all playful. the way yoongi only gets when he's really really happy.

And when Jin gets home, Maybe he’ll drag you over his lap with some squirming because there is no avoiding this hole check. Not when Jin and the others have been waiting.

Under the hungry eyes of the rest of the pack, you would still squirm. Your mate watching and grinning as he nibbles a piece of pizza and just watches as Jin pulls your sleep shorts down to your knees. Leaving them there to pin your thighs together. Hand against the small of your back to keep you still.

Of course, the pack omega has to look after the two of you and make sure the lowest on the hierarchy is being safe without a stronger presence nearby. But your entrance is pink fucked warm, not red and inflamed. Hoseok’s knot is the perfect thing to warm you up, and Jin tugs his sweatshirt over your hips to keep you warm as he examines you.

Fingers drag your entrance apart to show the others how good hobi did. Prompting them to touch and feel for themselves, all of their fingers teasing at your entrance and all of them touching you. Tae and Jungkook holding your thighs, Jimin and Namjoon resting their hands on your ass to help jin hold you open better and yoongi prodding to feel-

They'd want to see his cum slip out, forced from your hole by your needy clench. Of course, they'd just fuck it back inside because not a drop can go to waste. one set of fingers and then another, jungkook leaning down to taste.

Jin’s eyes would be all dark eyes and honey tones, looking hoseok up and down, cheeks as red as the sweatshirt you wear. His praise makes Hobi feel just a little bit too proud for his own good.

Hobi would probably get a knot-check for that, because if the alpha has something to be proud of then surely the others need to check his ego (and only in the way that hobi likes).

The alphas would scuffle with him a little, wrestling to settle him. Hobi's instincts are still fever bright and he needs to be put in his place. To feel the pack for what they are; very necessary safety bumpers.

He'd go so easily after a few nips- Jimin would help pull his pants down so Namjoon could get his big hands around him, fingers teasing at the red skin around his base and making Hobi growl and gasp. Pausing to cup lower and make sure Hoseok's empty, that he didn't hold back breeding you. Tae would tutt and make him open his mouth, her finger teasing along his teeth just for shits and giggles. Just to make him groan.

Nothing makes an alpha more proud than getting to show off his teeth.

Jin would smile at the display, and croon. “Good alpha.”

Maybe Jin will pat your pussy lips softly before pulling your pants up, making you flinch and then relax and jungkook would bend down to give Hoseok's knot a little kiss before standing.

The whole thing would take maybe 5 minutes but it would leave the whole pack ravenous for more. The final evidence of this finally happening; all of you together and not fragmented.

As you should be, together.

Maybe later, after treats and pizza, you'll all get to go to the beach like Hobi promised. Two separate cars. And Namjoon might let Hoseok and Jimin do donuts in the empty parking lot without too much fuss. The smell of tires and gasoline ripping.

Jungkook whooping and Yoongi watching on with his grin, Jin in the back seat with you going “Oh- oh hope- slow down” looking a little green. But terrorizing the pack omega is kind of your job.

It’s cold and late at night but you’ll tear out across the sand. Running to the shore. Tossing your shoes into the dark and toeing into the waves. Yelling happy.

You and Hobi will try and throw Yoongi into the water and then the other alphas will actually succeed in throwing Namjoon, pushing him until he inevitably tumbles into the seafoam. All 7 of you will try and wrangle Jungkook into the same wet fate and fail.

Jin will tuck Namjoon’s wet hair back behind his ear and grin at him, his grin saying the words they don’t need to. Kisses tases like secrets and salt but that much has not changed. Might never change when it comes to the eight of you. All the secrets in the world couldn’t keep you apart.

You’ll get zoomy in the way that dogs get in wide-open spaces. You’ll run. Your feet slapping against the sand, tossing spray into the air as high as your laughter, chasing after each other. A bunch of barefoot kids in too-big bodies and sand between your toes. Hands clasped tight in each other’s so that you won’t let go. You won’t ever let go now that you've found them.

For once you'll be absent of all the things that drag you down. Lighter than the warm air that billows over the sea. Mouths that store special secret salty smiles for the better. Damp fingers that curl against warm wrists. holding onto each other tight even though you’re running and running-

Running.

Maybe.

But that’s not what happens. Instead, what happens is this;

You are sitting at the kitchen counter when Hobi gets a text. It’s from Jungkook asking about the pizza types that you’d want and

Yoongi’s left his phone, he says with a little 👀 emoji. But he won’t truly tease the both of you until he gets home. Of course Yoongi was too distracted by you and Hobi post coitous to grab it from the other room.

you to to the pantry to put away the flour and this close- you can hear another phone ring from the bathroom. It's it yours? Only No, it's not your phone sitting on the counter, but Yoongi’s. Lighting up with Jin’s contact information.

JinJinJin: 5 missed calls.

It's so like your mate to leave his phone in such a random place. You smile as you pick up.

Jin is already talking a mile a minute. Fear and panic make his words come quick and desperate.

“Yoongi- why the fuck didn't you pick up" You don't have time to respond. Don't have time to let him know it's not your mate but you that picked up the phone.

"I don’t know how the fuck it happened, I don’t know- but-“ he’s almost shouting over the phone, such raw panic in his voice that it has your body going frozen.

Jin lets out a broken sobbing breath.

"I shot Minnie.”

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 Every little bit of encouragement helps <3

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

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Notes:

I ended up editing out a good portion of Hoseok ’s inner monologue at the begining, because I realized that at that point in time with the other pack he wouldn’t have been thinking stuff about how terrible it was because it wasn’t terrible yet. i probably should have even edited it fluffier if we're being honest. i think that would have been more unsettling.

The line where she says “One second you're holding back and the next you're kissing him like he's Yoongi and he's kissing you like he's starving.” Is a little hard to explain, she’s not thinking about Yoongi in that moment but the person she associates the most with love is Yoongi so- yeah it made sense. I feel like this line might make people go a little like “what??”

I swear if you guys didn’t cry a little at the ‘It doesn’t hurt at all.’ Parts I’m not doing this right because I was SOBBING.

Listen, I almost edited out the line where he calls her pussy an inside joke so many times- but for me- when I was younger I always wanted to be a part of inside jokes because like- if you are that means you’ve got history with someone- Hoseok is thinking this because until this moment- he hasn’t been able to be apart of something that the rest of the pack had understood.

When Hoseok was leaving a hickey over her mating mark it’s his way of saying “this is mine too 😠” to Yoongi,

Honestly??? Why is Hobi so feral in this like- he’s a /little/ unhinged from how much he wants her and tbh it’s fair. Look away if you don’t wanna read him going APESHIT for her.

ALSO- I’m just imagining him on the walk with jungkook and Tae, cheeks slowly pinking up because he can feel that they’re having sex down the mating bond, maybe getting hard and the others noticing, both of them plastering themselves along his side and teasing him with words like “do you think he’s making her all wet and messy hyung? Do you think she’s gonna cream around his cock like she creams around yours?” and Yoongi just- endlessly suffering around the two horndogs that are Tae on estrogen and jungkook on a regular day.

The moment where they’re holding hands and it’s talking about palmistry is a refrence to noah kahan’s song everywhere everything and the line “it’s been a long year, in all of our books pages dog eared, we write out the ends on our palms dear, and forget to read.”

The worst worst worst part about this chapter is that I don’t??? have a fucking recipe for the tiramisu?? Like I’ve made it before but I’ve never made honey flavored whipped cream or put caramel on top 🥺 maybe I’ll test it out one dayand update this chapter

Okay so the ‘flash into the improbable future at the end is a little too horny for the end of smutt but I couldn’t just /not/ put it in there because you know how I love a good hole check scene.

do you hate me because of this cliffhanger? even i have to say its a little unforgivable.

please be patient for next chapter because i do not have A SINGLE fucking word written for it. like nada, we're starting from scratch come monday.

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Hobi's sex Playlist (jk isn't not a sex playlist)

Dominic fike- Mama's boy (hobis' flashback)

Mitski – my love mine all mine. (yoongi telling him to be good)

Lana del ray – chemtrails over the country club. (the sex)

Olivia Rodrigo – can’t catch me now (when they're both triggered from the respective abusive relationships)

Tom o’dell – black Friday. (Juz cuz)

552 notes · View notes

bless-my-demons · 6 months

Text

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Four

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, cuss words, and… angst

Notes: I fell asleep after I decided to add a Jasper dialogue last night… I’m sorry it’s later than normal lol remember, I told yall Jasper has to make up for his being gone😌🫣

Word Count: 2373

Series Masterlist

• March 20th, 2006 • Forks HS •

Reader

The weekend passed by in a blur, I spent it wishing I got more time with Jasper, but he desperately needed to hunt. So that left me with Quil, if he noticed my far-away mind, he didn’t comment, the new video game he picked up Friday occupied most of his attention.

Friday. I jumped off a cliff with Bella, was rescued by Quil’s ex-best friend, and then the object of my every waking thought showed up at my doorstep.

Friday was a long day, to say the least.

Which brings us to today - Monday. I have to go to school as if it were a normal fucking day, like my weekend hadn’t changed the trajectory of my life. Like my other best friend isn’t in Italy right now fighting to save the man she loves.

Slamming the door shut to my locker, I turn towards the direction of second period when a hulking mass at the other end of the hallway stops me short.

The blonde next to him grins, gracefully walking in my direction as if no more than the weekend had passed since I last saw them.

“Life has been rather dull without you.” Rosalie brings me into a delicate hug, the smile on her face growing.

“I missed you too.” The words aren’t much more than a whisper and my heart twists in my chest, they’re really back.

My eyes haven’t left his and they’re so full of sadness. The hallway empties out, but neither of us has managed to move an inch or look away.

Rose nudges me, “Go.”

A simple word, but the command moves my feet. It started off as one step and then two, but then I’m halfway down the hallway in a full sprint. Emmett takes one large step and then another before I fling myself into his arms, wrapping my own tightly around his neck.

“I hate you.” The words aren’t true, but this ache in my chest can’t be described any other way.

“I know.” His words are muffled as he lifts me.

“I missed you every day.” Tears well in my eyes, making it hard to see the grin splitting Rosalie’s face.

“I missed you more.” He argues back.

Safety, that’s Emmett McCarty Cullen. He’s strength and power and softness that only a man his size with his heart could exude. He is the definition of protector - someone that would go to any lengths to safeguard those closest to him. And just his hugs alone could cure anything, the hug of a brother who cares immensely.

“You left me.” The tremble in my voice gives my hurting heart away.

He clears his throat, “And I put him through hell every day for it.”

“He really has.” Rose confirms, full on smiling at me.

Emmett sets me back down on my own two feet, holding my shoulders in his massive hands, “Never again, I can promise you that.”

“Emmett-” I start, but he isn’t having it.

“Nope, we’re already late for class and I have some catching up to do.” Winking, he offers me one arm and his mate the other, leading us in the direction of next period.

• March 21st, 2006 • Home •

Reader

“Hey, you got a sec?” Knocking on the door frame to my mother’s bedroom, I watch as she turns off her tv.

“For you? Always honey, c’mere.” She pats the bed in front of her, her full attention making me a little nervous.

I sit and work up the courage for a few beats. “He’s back.”

“I know, I saw Doctor Cullen at work yesterday.” Her calm answer surprises me.

“I’m not sure what to do, momma.” I pull at her old bed spread, hoping for some words of wisdom.

“Well, you have options.” Her warm hands cover mine and encourage me to meet her eyes. “You can kick him to the curb since he dropped off the face of the earth for six months.”

“Or?” I ask, provoking her to complete her unfinished advice.

“Or, you can give him another chance.” A beat of silence while I weighed her answer. “You don’t have to do it right away either, you can ask for space to think about it. You can make him talk it out too.”

I process the possibility of cutting him out of my life for all of half a second before my heart tells me it’s impossible.

“Talk to him, I know you need to.” My mother has always been able to read me like a book, it’s why it’s so easy to get along with her.

“Why give me options? Why not forbid me to see him?”

Her knowing smile grows, “Because you’ll do what you want anyways. And no matter how much I want to protect my baby,” she lovingly strokes my cheek, “you have to navigate this in a way that heals that pretty heart of yours. I’d be failing you as a parent to not allow you to figure this out.”

“Mom-” tears threaten the corners of my eyes.

“Don’t think that means I’ll cut him some slack.” She jokes, but her tone includes some seriousness. “He hurt my baby.”

“I love you, you know that?”

“Always sweet pea, I love you too.” She delivers a sloppy kiss to my cheek before reclining back to her previous tv-watching position.

Rising from her bed with a lighter heart in my chest, she stops me at her doorway, “I got your back kid, whatever you decide.”

I turn and give her a genuine smile, “I know, thanks mom.”

• March 22nd, 2006 • Forks HS •

Reader

Setting my tray down at the dubbed “Cullen table” I make direct eye contact with Edward as I stand before the siblings.

Don’t fucking do that again.

His face splits with a grin. “To which are you referring?”

Leaving her, leaving your family, going to Volterre with a death wish, you fucking idiot.

He actually laughs at my angry directive thoughts, the bastard.

You have people that care about you, you know. My eyes soften as his meet mine seriously. Including me. I’m glad you’re safe. And home.

He nods, unable to meet my eyes now.

“I’d hug you if you weren’t so adverse to physical affection.” Before I finish my statement, he rises from his chair to round the table towards me.

Shock roots me to the spot as his arms envelop lightly around my frame, my arms hesitantly wrapping around the tall Cullen after a beat.

“Thank you.” It’s whispered low enough for just me to hear and he’s returning to his seat.

Emmett’s jaw practically hits the floor, “You’ve never given me a hug-”

“Because your hugs are rather violent in their intensity.” Edward notates.

“But-” Emmett whines.

“No ‘buts’, I’m his favorite.” Sticking out my tongue at Emmett as I take my seat next to Jasper, the jealous vampire launches into a deep explanation of why he must be the family favorite.

“Thank you for starting something I will never hear the end of.” Jasper leans over to whisper in my ear as I grin at Edward who rolls his eyes.

“Glad to be of service.”

Reader

That afternoon I rode with Alice to the Cullen’s after school, something about an intervention with Bella and their family. And naturally, the curious part of me agreed to tag along.

The moment her car comes to a stop in their driveway, Jasper is opening my door and offering me a steadying hand.

“Do you know what this is about?” I ask, watching as Alice skips ahead of us.

“Not a clue, sweet girl.” He answers, leading me inside his family home.

His cool hand enveloping mine sends a pang through my chest, it’s like none of this is real - I’m just in some heavy dream. I’ve wished and hoped for their return with every fucking cell in my body, but now that they’re back? It’s surreal and I’m on edge - I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Standing loosely in a circle in the living room, our attention turns to Bella on the stairs, Edward looming behind her.

“You all know what I want. And I know how much I’m asking for. The only thing I can think of, for it to be fair, is to just vote.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Shut up.” Bella shushes Edward from his grumbling.

Bella is asking them to vote on her becoming a vampire? A slight tremble begins in my hands, this isn’t exactly a debate I’d wished to be a part of. I mean, what would this mean for me? Would we eventually have one of these for me?

“Alice?” Bella asks, opting for starting with the one securely in her corner.

“I already consider you my sister.” She surges forward to wrap her in a hug. “Yes.”

One vote yes.

“Thank you.”

“I vote yes.” The rumble of Jasper’s chest under the hand I have placed there stops my breathing. “It would be nice to not want to kill you all the time.”

It would be nice to not want to kill you all the time. The words ring in my ears and burn my chest, repeating.

Two votes yes.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry to both of you for how I’ve acted. And I’m really grateful that you were brave enough to go and save my brother.” Rosalie’s next sentence a quiet confession within her answer, “But this isn’t a life I would’ve chosen for myself. And I wish there had been someone there to vote no for me. So, no.”

A breath, one vote no.

“I vote hell yeah.” Em spins her around in his excitement, “We can pick a fight with these Volturi some other day.”

Three votes yes, one vote no.

“I already consider you a part of the family, yes.” Esme happily gives her blessing as Carlisle steps forward to look at Edward.

Four votes yes, it’s almost unanimous.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He asks his adoptive father. “You know what this means.”

“You’ve chosen not to live without her, which leaves me no choice. I won’t lose my son.”

Carlisle’s answer is like a gavel being slammed down, sealing her fate, confirming what she wants.

Bella meets my eyes, even I can tell relief floods them as I’m sure anxiety fills mine. She’s going to turn into one of them - a vampire.

Jasper

After a few heavy minutes following the votes of my family, I turn to Y/n.

“Would you like to go home? It’s getting late.” I ask her, but her eyes are distant.

Immediately I gently probe at her emotions, but I can feel her trying to suppress them. I furrow my brow as I look down at her, why is she hiding from me?

I tilt her chin back and she removes herself entirely. Ice, I know as a vampire my core temperature is already low from the absence of blood in my system, but with her physical departure - it feels as though every ounce of warmth has been zapped from my very soul.

“I need time.” Her request is hardly a whisper and her eyes still refuse to meet mine.

Shock roots me to the floor, time? She’s asking for time from me. Not with, from. Away. Without.

And I must grant it to her. I’d give her anything in this world she would ask for.

I remove myself a step back from her even though my chest wishes to tug me forward.

“Emmett?” I ask aloud, not taking my eyes from her, he immediately answers by way of flashing to my side. “Take her home?”

“Of course, but-?” Curiosity tinged with sadness finishes what he fails to ask.

“Just get her home safe, please.” I step aside, forcing my eyes to my shoes as I clear the path to the front door for them.

Emmett escorts her outside and I swear, every bit of strength leaves and threatens to buckle me. I watch as the Jeep’s tail lights disappear down the driveway from the front windows.

“It’s the right thing to do.” Esme lays a hand on my shoulder as she watches with me, I hate the truth in her words. “She needs to process everything, we haven’t given her the chance and now this with Isabella, it’s a lot.”

“I know.”

Love. “Come here.”

I turn into her waiting arms, the overwhelming urge to cry hits me like a fucking freight train when her arms pull me close.

“She will be back, just be patient with her.”

“What if she realizes-”

“Nonsense, she’s hopelessly in love with you.”

I pull back to inspect her face, “What?”

She smiles at me in only the way a mother really can, “My son, trust me. Give her a few days, but she needs to know that love is returned.”

“How do you-”

“I’ve known since the day you first brought her home. I knew then she was yours before you ever figured out she was your singer, I’m a mom like that.” Winking at me, she pats my shoulder. “She makes you happier, lighter. It makes me happy to finally see that in you.”

Venomous tears make my vision swim, more often than not I take the fact that Esme mothers us in ways unique to every single one of us for granted.

Glancing down, I clear my throat like a typical male trying to avoid being emotional, “Thank you, Esme.”

“Dear, you never have to thank me, I love you more than you know.”

“I love you too.” I kiss her on the cheek, our talk having smoothed out my frayed nerves.

Time. I can give her time to think, to process everything that’s happened in the last week. But then she’s mine - she has to know how I feel about her. And if she wants nothing to do with me after that?

Well, I guess I’d give her that too.

But not until after I fight for her, because fighting for her is in my bones. Fighting is all I’ve ever known and it’s time I put it to good use.

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

#jasper hale x reader #redamancy series #bless-my-demons #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale x female!reader #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #twilight #jasper hale #female reader insert

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mochiroreo · 2 months

Text

And I will fuck you like nothing matters

Dark!reader x Rafe Cameron

TW: M18+ NON-CON, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, implied heavy smut at the end, degradation, non-consensual use of drugs, mentions of rape and domestic violence, mean!rafe, psycho!dark!reader, non-consensual recording (sorry not sorry rafe lol)

Author’s note: I am back just to post this blurb cause I love dark!Rafe but I also want to read something about the reader being the unhinged, pyscho one 🤭 . Also, this is unedited so if you see some wrong grammar or wrong spelling.. no you didn’t.

“Hmm..” a dull, throbbing pain made him tightly closed his eyes. His body feeling heavy and sluggish. He felt like he slept in a wrong position for two days, with how his muscles are aching. He was about to stretch and move his arms when he felt a tug that restricted his movements.

“Wait.. wha—?” The sensation made Rafe open his eyes, his baby blues scanning the room in utter confusion. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the low light, looking up at his wrists tied together above him, and his legs tied to the bed frame. “What the fuck..?” He mumbled in a slurred manner, his baby blues darting around the room before feeling the bed dipped beside him.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Rafe immediately looked up, his breath slightly hitching with how close your face is.

“A-angel?” He whispered his nickname for you, confusion more evident on his face now with his brows scrunched up. “How— why—“ Rafe’s questions were cut off by your giggle, airy and as if the whole situation is amusing, making his jaw tick in irritation.

For him, maybe it’s not as amusing. For you, however, it is definitely the highlight of your life.

“What are you doing? You think this is funny?” He asked, voice low and threatening, as if he is not the one tied down tightly on your bed right now. You just looked at him with a soft smile, a soft hand landing on his forehead to smooth the creases between his eyebrows before affectionately running your hand through his buzzed hair.

“Oh no, Rafey. I just think this suits you..” you words hanged onto the air, making him anticipate what’s next. “After all, isn’t this what you had planned for me? I just switched up who will be the victim.” You answered, ignoring the slight widening of his eyes with your answer.

His heart was thumping loudly inside his chest now, feeling the rope’s roughness that bound both his wrists and ankles. “W-what? I don’t— I don’t fucking know what you’re talking about.” Rafe looked straight into your eyes, trying to convince you. Yet your smile sent a chill down his spine.

“What do you mean? I know your plan silly!” You giggled, biting your bottom lip which made the boy gulp. “I am very much aware of the Kook king’s personal life and the rumours surrounding you, you know. The rape allegations at the parties after slipping some drugs on their drinks. Or maybe asking them to drink a bit too much. I have also heard how much you have punched and kicked your previous girlfriends.. lucky that your daddy knows how to bail you out!”

Your eyes travelled down Rafe’s disheveled state, the buttons of his white shirt undone, revealing a slither of tan skin underneath. His taut muscles evident as he squirms to move. While you were distracted, Rafe tried to free himself, struggling as the rope got tighter and tighter the more he tried to escape.

“Where was I? Oh! And so— I have heard from Topper how it’s now my “time” apparently. Then there you were! In front of my house, asking me to drink with you cause you were feeling lonely. I knew you slipped a drug on my drink,, so I have beat you to it and knocked you out.” You admitted with a shrug, moving away to stand up while still watching Rafe closely.

“You’re fucking crazy. I-I didn’t even— wasn’t planning to do anything!” Rafe tried to reason out, gritting his teeth when the rope wouldn’t budge.

“Really? Cause the rope that I used was from the back of your truck. I even found some little baggies.” You inserted your hand inside your bra, the action making Rafe stare straight to your chest and take in what you are wearing.

You wore white lacy set of lingerie, hugging the swell of your breasts and thighs, accentuating every dips and curves as if you were carves by the gods to look like a literal angel on earth.

Except, you are holding every variety of drugs that Rafe owns with a big smile.

Each bag has some different sized pills and powders, which you were sure were party drugs and coke from his drug dealer best friend, Barry.

“Now come on, Angel. Don’t you know that you shouldn’t touch what’s not yours? You don’t even know shit about drugs or-or how expensive those are!” He groaned, unable to do anything. Rafe is at his limit, his patience running thin as he think of the things he will do once he breaks free from the ropes, promising to himself that he will definitely fuck you to the point that you’ll beg him to stop plowing your abused cunt. Your appearance and his imagination making his thick cock hard despite his anger.

“Hmm.. I know which drugs is which. I think I stalked you enough to know which one is your favourite other than coke.” Moving closer, you brushed your hair away from your face. “And to be honest. I thought you would have more.” You grabbed a bottle of water on the bedside table before straddling Rafe’s chest.

The action made Rafe’s shorts tighter with how painfully hard he is, his point of view accentuating your breasts, seeing your nipples perky from the cold air inside the room. Once again, he struggled with the intention of trying to free himself to grab you and slap the shit out of you while drilling his cock to your wet pussy, he gritted his teeth and whispered menacingly.

“Now now, Angel. We can do this without the rope.. you know? If I have known you were a little freaky.. I would have asked you properly instead of what I was planning to do.” His words made chuckle, raking your manicured nails on his chest, making him let out a low groan.

“But where’s the fun in that?! Besides it would be unfair to just let you do that.. knowing how much you’ve been a bad boy here in Outer banks..” leaning forward, you balanced yourself and gripped his arms, slightly rutting your clothed core on his stomach. The action made Rafe groan, his anger disappearing as he thinks that you are just a closeted little freak that is now removing your disguise to fuck him. Rafe’s hips were bucking slightly, loving the hazy look in your eyes as he lets you to revel on the power you have over him right now.

“This is exciting, but I want to make it wayyy more pleasurable for us two.” Dragging your tongue on his collarbone, you moved away to grab one of the baggies containing some neon pink and green pills making Rafe eye you suspiciouslly. As far as he remember, he did not order some odd looking pills from Barry.

Grinning at him like the devil, you took two from the bag before going back to your position, your left hand tracing the bottom of his lips as you bite your own. Rafe’s lips parted, his pink tongue slightly peeking, urging you to lean down and finally kiss him.

The kiss was hot and messy, and Rafe kissed you like a man starved. His tongue immediately invading your mouth, savouring the slight dominance that he has knowing that he cannot escape your bed to flip you over. Rafe was so into the kiss that he did not feel both of your hands wrap around his neck.

Your hands were getting tighter and tighter, making him pull back with wide eyes that is staring right straight to your in panic.

“A-angel— hey hey..!” He tried to fully scream at you, nails slowly digging into the flesh of his neck. Rafe was slowly running out of air, his vision swimming in the dark while looking at you smiling so gently to him as if you aren’t choking him to death right now. His lips parted in a silent scream, before you let go to forcefully shove the pills down his throat which almost made him puke.

You let go once the pills were stuck down his throat, Rafe immediately heaving and gasping for air, making the pills slide down with his spit. He didn’t waste any time to steady his breathing, immediately screaming at your face.

“ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?! YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH, I WILL FUCKING RIP YOUR HEAD OFF AND YOUR FUCKING PUSSY IF I GET OUT OF HERE! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!” His neck was red, veins popping out from him screaming directly on your face. You faked a sniffle, eyes slightly watering before you broke into a laugh.

“Woah calm down, pretty boy!” You managed to squeeze out as you continue to laugh, making Rafe jolt with the want to punch you down and force himself on you. “I just want to make sure you drink the pill candy without a fight.” You stated, offering a water bottle pointed at his lips. His breathing was erratic with anger, nudging the bottle away from his face before it dawned on him.

“Fuck—“ he mumbled. “What the fuck are those pills?!” You just shrugged, shaking your head as you so. “I have enough of your bitchy brat games, you fucking psycho! What the fuck are those pills!” Wiping down the spit that landed on your chest, you sighed giving him a faux pout.

“It’s just something to relax you.. and maybe give you more strength as I use you the whole night?” As if on cue, his cock that went soft with the stunt that you pulled suddenly hardened, blood immediately rushing down south. Rafe’s body slowly started to feel hot, he feels so lightheaded that his eyelids were almost closing on him while he tries not to pant and control his breathing. “Shit shit shit” he mumbled in panic, mind swimming with all the possibilities what the pill might be and what it might do to him.

You cut his thoughts short when you swiftly undressed him, his eyes wide and watery as you blow air on his clothed cock that was immediately weeping before letting it spring free. You thumbed the continuous flow of his pre-cum, making him buck his hips for more. Your touch was cold on his burning skin, a soft whine passing by his lips when you gave his leaking tip one kitten lick.

“Fuck please— what— what did you do to me..?” Rafe whispered softly, slowly losing his mind with the need and desire to feel your mouth, cunt, or your ass on his dick that is now standing proudly against his stomach.

“Nothing really. I told you I’ll make sure to make this more pleasurable for us, didn’t I? Must have been frustrating to be on the receiving end, huh?” Straddling his waist, you move your lacy panties aside to rut it on his cock, his pre-cum making it slide easier on your sopping wet pussy. You continued your actions, ignoring Rafe’s please to let him put his cock in you.

“You know.. I’ve heard how much you wanted me.. how much you think you can ruin me, to manipulate me into your ‘slut’. But I don’t want to be one of those girls that you took advantage of, Rafey. I want to be special, I want something more.” Your body was slowly getting covered with a light sheen of sweat, lips so close besides Rafe’s ear as you lick and tease his ear lobe. Soft whines and gasps escaping your lips before smirking as Rafe tried his best to listen to you despite him slowly losing his mind.

“So I decided to just show you, decided that maybe I’m the one that can break you..” Rafe lets out a deep strangled cry as he cums, body vibrating with the intensity of his ejaculation while he shut his eyes close. “Oh my, you just cummed but you’re still hard, Rafey!” Your statement made Rafe open his eyes weakly, vision slightly blurry with unshed tears, his cock more sensitive that ever.

Your left hand encircled his thick shaft, slowly dragging your palm up and down, making Rafe choked out a sob “‘s too much— please— fuck— ‘s too much” Rafe rambled, making you stop playing with his cock; giving him soft kisses on his cheeks, kissing his tears away. “Oh shush, don’t cry Rafey. I will make you feel good, make you feel so so good.” You whispered against his flushed skin, licking the lone tear that slid down while you console him.

You grabbed the water bottle and popped a pill on your tongue, Rafe watching you with blown out, unfocused eyes. “See? I took one as well!” You stated, slowly getting rid of your lingerie which made Rafe’s cock bob up and down, pre-cum once again leaking out of him despite coming just seconds ago.

“Gonna show you how special I can be, Rafey.” Whispering on his skin while you trail wet kissed down his chest, Rafe sobbed when you lightly bit his nipple, the action making him cum once again. You felt his warm load spatter on your ass, making you giggle.

“ ‘m gonna show you how I can make you feel like a god.” You eyed his drowsy state, drool sloppily pooling on the side of his mouth. Lightly tapping his cheeks, he opened his eyes before you pointed at the red dot on the corner of your room, which he eyed for a moment.

“Don’t forget to smile.”

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kalims · 4 months

Note

Oh my goddess, orders are open! Ahem, ANYWAYS— I wonder if I could have an Idia with a fem or gn s/o who is introverted and generally closed-faced, being a sweetheart and even shy with him, pretty please?

• Remember to drink water and take care of yourself correctly, kisses <3

– Mel 🌙🩵✨

dress,

premise.

idia forever thought his cause of death would be the permanent termination of his end game account—which in theory, is now proven wrong at the existence of a brand new thing that just might obliterate his heart.

note. thank you mel <3 you too. i, for one will gladly accept kisses from u and idia (he's downbad here LOL)

idia is having a strangely, familiar sensation.

for example—the fact that his heart is palpitating so fast is making him afraid that he'll get the same sense of doom he frequently gets whenever this happens. like when he's the one that the professor chooses to answer a question up front. just his luck cause it absolutely sucks in real life just as much as his chances of winning that rare character.

but no, there isn't an impending sense of doom that sends him to the edge. no cold sweat forming on the skin of his neck, nor does it protrude from his clammy hands. it's weird, he feels warm rather than the cold it usually accompanies.

he needs to visit a doctor.

he gulps thickly. sending a lightning fast glance at your direction then averting it even faster. oh my god, your hand just brushed against his.. was it intentional? no, no—it mustn't be. you wouldn't waste your time doing that.

but you might even look more tenser than he is.

despite the attempt at flushing down the tightness in his throat, his words still break off into a croaky stammer that just sends his face into a grimace because, did he sound like that? "I'm.. I'm really sorry, you didn't have to do this," he says, looking away with those eyes that just screams a mixture of 'I hate it all.' and 'I'm so scared.'

his eyes in comparison to yours, dull significantly in terms of greatness. cause as rare as it is for your eyes to meet, he'll always marvel at the lush hue your eyes are colored with—and god, your lashes. so pretty, so, so pretty.

he sulks. he doesn't deserve this.

"it's alright," you answer in response, voice quiet but it's the only thing he ever hears despite the myriad of people quite nearly squishing the both of you. the crowd is large, and noisy. so he isn't sure why he's suddenly the greatest listener when you speak. "I'm glad you thought of... inviting me along, I know you're quite passionate about it."

passionate is not a strong enough word, it could be an incorrect word to use even. he supposes it's just a nice feeling to excel—be good at something.

but with how hot his heart is probably burning, maybe passionate really is the right word.

for you that is.

most likely idia's ideal type of player two <3 someone he can keep up with, not too fast and certainly not too slow. but either way, he’s probably having a heart attack at whatever you do. literally just sleeping? his heart… playing with him? please match avatars at once or he will combust. (and yes, he is hinting even though you already match everywhere else. had a house in a game, got married in a game.)

don’t even pull out the fact he buys you the currency to match and you feel bad cause he thinks it’s too cute. you need to stop or else he will buy you more.

speaking of more in game terms, he surprisingly garners a lot of attention online maybe because he’s endgame in every single account he’s made and many people like money so… there are many attempts at ‘rizzing’ him up but in the end he’s provoking them to screenshot it and report them as online daters.

^ says THE online dater.

still reports people if they flirt with you, but compared to his. not only is it a file for online dating he somehow dug up the dirt, the monstrous things they did like… 3 years ago and now they’re gonna get suspended. It’s concerning since he was talking with you animatedly during it and he somehow also exposed them all in 10 minutes.

did the see you again trend in secrecy cause he would rather leap down a hole to hell than let people see it. In any case… if it isn’t obvious he’s the lala, you the okok.

deluded himself, is convinced that he’s actually the nonchalant, ‘cool’ one but all he is, is a literal puddle. is still solid when standing but will be putty in your hands in SECONDS.

idia is secretly really proud of himself whilst being like: how did i even pull them. cause when he looks at your face when you’re talking to other people. he’s actually kind of scared cause it’s a really wondrous thing you never once looked at him like that… (please save his mind too. he’s trying to convince himself that you must be like this, soft person he knows to other people too and not just him because that’s just crazy right haha.. hahahaha…)

the type to tell you to stand back during raids, challenges, boss fights, etc… that all you need to do is be there, and that he’ll solo it for you and you can claim your rewards even though he gave you the rarest, strongest equipment in respective games which won’t be much use at this point cause he insists he do it for you, and sulks all day if you don’t let him.

stay at home couple >>>

will order every single thing you crave during those times he’s too shy to consider date nights, and you too so it’s like an unspoken thing. he honestly plays better when you’re inside his room, even if it’s just laying on his messy bed scrolling on your phone or munching on something.

it’s just complete, comfortable silence.

except for the time one of you accidentally makes an indirect flirty comment and now the room could be considered a sauna from the literal steam only two people emitted.

really, really, really, REALLY, likes it when your head is on his shoulder.

“─ean.. no one really asked for it, the nerf was completely unnecessary and─” the words poured out of his mouth, something uncontrollable that he couldn’t stop. there is something about you that just kicks down the layer of anxiety on him. comfortable might be the right word, even if you don’t talk that much (which is surprising cause he ends up being the talkative one and you always assure him that you like to listen.) somehow the thought: am i too annoying? doesn’t really pop up like usual.

in fact, he’s excited to ramble all about it. excited to hear your thoughtful hums, excited to see your attentive eyes on him since the first word he’s said─but it isn’t. because he looks up and you’re blinking haphazardly, thrice in a second and before he panics to shut his mouth he feels the soft slump of your head against the curve of his shoulder.

oh my god, oh my god, oh my g─

if idia had half of his mind he would scream instinctively at the weight he isn’t really accustomed to feel. actually, even if he did have his entire brain connected, and his thoughts coherent he still would. but he bites the inside of his cheek cause despite the chaos that just erupted in his mind which is somehow simultaneously blank, and swirling.

and he remembers midst his confusion that you are,

asleep.

you’re asleep on his shoulder

you’re asleep.

asleep on his shoulder.

on. his. shoulder.

he resorts to the screech in his head.

his shoulder─is so terribly stiff right now to the point where he thinks that sleeping on a hard, wooden surface would be surely more comfortable rather than where your head lays. he makes an effort to relax his muscles, tell himself that it’s only you and that there’s nothing wrong but there is something wrong because it’s you! idia dares to sneak a peek at you and your closed lids only confirm your unconscious state.

and careful with each nudge his movement makes sends to your head. idia can’t resist the hands that creep up his face and bury it, to hope all the embarrassment and whatever he’s feeling right now absorbs it right out of his face because god. he knows he looks like he just ate 10 bowls of lilia’s cooking.

he would scream, he really would. a second thought but you’re on his shoulder!

you, who rarely touches him too much.

on him.

him, who gets too flustered to be touched by you.

so he feels pretty obligated to just suck it up cause he’s enjoying the moment even if you aren’t conscious right now and he sure as hell is going to, for as long as he can.

idia releases a deep sigh, long and wistful because he’s gonna die before you even wake up.

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed !#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fluff #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #x gn reader

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babyjakes · 5 months

Text

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | massage

pairing | massage therapist!andy barber x reader

warnings | andy’s soooo soft and sweet <3. err, some sort of violation of massage therapy ethics lol. me kind of not knowing how a massage works. my shameless hand kink. fingering. praising/encouragement. squirting. he cleans her up after :)

word count | 897

an | big thankyou to @starksbabie for letting me ask weird questions about massage practices lol. sorry if this still didn’t seem realistic, i’ve never had a massage before 😭

okay but 😳 getting a massage from andy? 😏

he’s a professional ofc!! recommended to you by a friend who’s noticed how tense and stressed you’ve been lately. “he’s the best, those hands are magic!”

he’s got a little private office built off of his home. he greets you when you arrive, guiding you back into the private room with the table. “go ahead and undress for me, honey. hop up and lay on your back when you’re ready; you can cover yourself with the sheet if you like.” he gives you a few minutes of privacy to let you do as he instructed. all you can think about is how handsome he is 🥲 your friend should’ve warned you this guy’s a total dilf lol

he comes back in and dims the lights, making his outline just barely visible against the few dull lamps stationed around the room. washes his hands at the sink in the corner before coming to stand at your side, pumping some oil onto his large hands. he can see you’re trembling a little 🥺

“easy sweetheart, just relax. i’ll be gentle, i promise.” his voice is so soothing and warm, it’s hard not to trust him

he starts things out innocent enough, moving the sheet and working your calves and around your knees. murmuring soothing words as he notes your jumpiness, “deep breaths, good.” “that feel okay?” “a little tight here, honey. let’s see if we can help with that-” his hands are so strong yet gentle 💕

he gradually works his way up to your thighs. the outsides first, then the tops. you try your best to fight off any inappropriate thoughts or feelings, but there’s just something about his dark figure towering over you, his massive hands, his low, soothing voice…

“gonna open up your legs a bit, princess. you’ve got some tightness here,” you jump as his long fingers are trailing to the insides of your thighs. he opens them just a few inches at first, guiding your knees to fall apart. you’re glad the room is so dark; you’re sure you’re making the most humiliating faces at this point 🥲 he works at your sore inner thighs as you try to ignore the fact that your bare pussy is now on display for his trained eyes and hands

he makes his way up to the tender space where your legs meet your groin. a whimper escapes your lips, heat rushing to your cheeks

he pauses. “sweetheart.” his voice is so dangerously low, with just a hint of tentativeness. he takes a deep breath, exhaling audibly before continuing. “i wanna help you, baby. will you let me?” his hands are guiding your knees further apart, hooking them over each side of the table to let your calves dangle down towards the floor.

you close your eyes, trying not to let your voice tremble as you give a soft, “mhm,” nodding your head. it’s all the answer he needs

he pumps some more oil onto his hands, warming them gently for a few moments before returning to the side of the table. you can just barely see his form leaning down a bit to get as good of a view as he can. his hands are careful as they land on either side of your needy cunt. you don’t get to see the smile spreading across his face as he catches a glimpse of your wetness, shining subtly in the darkness

he uses one large hand to part your pussy lips, the other dragging a few fingers up through your puddle. he hums in approval as your body jerks sensitively. he strokes the pads of his fingers broadly over your clit for a few moments, paying attention to how your body responds. when your knees shake and your little feet kick gently, he moves to press two fingers up into your soaking hole as the others continue on your burning button

“keep breathing for me, baby. that feel good?” you offer a mumbled confirmation, your head nodding almost desperately as his strong digits stretch you out. the sensation of fullness almost does you in alone- and then he starts pumping his fingers into you, curling them ever-so-slightly up to reach your sweet spot

you let out some mixture between a moan and a cry, your hips bucking up instinctively to match his pace. “good, that’s good, honey. keep going for me, that’s it…” he forces your mound back with his fingers, swirling his thumb quicker over your hardened nub. “come on, baby. give it to me, almost there…”

you come right on his fingers with a string of jumbled cries. “goood,” he croons, keeping up his pace to coax your orgasm out of you. he smiles as he feels you squirting out against his hands before things finally begin to ease up

he slows to a gentle stop, reaching for a towel with one hand as he continues stroking your inner thigh with the other. after wiping off the mess you made from his fingers, he gently moves to find something to clean you off with, turning the lights up a little to make the room more visible

“feeling better?” he asks when he returns to your side. you just nod pathetically, a sweet look of humiliation settling on your face as he gets to cleaning you up 😌

#eun's writing #kinkmas 2023 #andy barber #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #andy barber one shot #andy barber imagine #andy barber drabble #andy barber blurb #andy barber headcanon #defending jacob #defending jacob fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut

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satoruxx · 5 months

Text

NORTHERN LIGHTS.

✧ PAIRING: kaeya alberich x fem!reader | 4.5k words

✧ SUMMARY: smut, p -> v, praise, fingering, lots of pining, angst, angsty bc it’s kaeya tbh lol, kaeya lore but it’s vague, also military themes bc sometimes we forget kaeya is a captain and i love the knights of favonius, he’s highkey got commitment issues but i think he’s valid, man is whipped tho, he's just an overthinker and traumatized, also can you tell i’m a med student?

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: first i have to apologize bc this is SO late??? i got this request back for my 200 event, asking for kaeya with the song northern lights by kennie (which is such a good song). at first i was gonna make it a short little drabble, but the more i wrote, the more i wanted to make it a full fic, which is what ended up happening. kaeya's character has so much depth and i wanted to explore it hehe. northern lights is such a fitting song for him so i just had to go all in. but i'm so sorry that i got to your request so late, hopefully you still enjoy it lovely! (even tho it’s not the main focus in this fic, this is technically my first real smut fic so take it with a grain of salt; i don't think i write it that well LMAO)

it was rare to truly know your own weaknesses, but kaeya knew his a little too well. behind his carefree, unbothered exterior he cared a little too much. he cares a little too much when klee tugs on his fur cape and whines about a scolding she’s gotten from jean, and he ends up indulging her with whatever she’d like. he cares a little too much when rosaria spills just a tad more than usual during her drunken ramblings. he cares a little too much when he sees the discomfort in the face of certain fiery bartender as they speak, and he consistently lies awake and remembers days when that discomfort between them didn’t exist.

it’s a curse, he thinks, because he always ends up feeling too attached to people he knows he shouldn’t be attached to.

even now, his weakness is acting up as he barks orders to his soldiers. they scramble around him as they enter the city, carrying their wounded brethren to safety up at the cathedral. kaeya knows he shouldn’t blame himself but as their captain he feels like he should’ve seen this coming. new recruits wouldn’t be able to handle the hordes of monsters at daduapa gorge—he miscalculated.

“take them to the sisters at the cathedral. sister barbara and the others should be able to heal them,” kaeya commands, clasping one of the men’s shoulders and helping him up to the church. he’s ignoring the now dull throbbing in his side as blood stains his clothes—his soldiers were most important right now. like he said, he cared a little too much.

the nurses had set up a medical station at the cathedral, and in between all the commotion, kaeya’s finally able to hand over the groaning soldier to a nurse, who immediately gets to work.

he then takes a few steps back to assess the damage, grateful that all of his soldiers are getting the attention they needed. he’d hate himself if there were any losses today.

he doesn’t even realize that he’s now leaning against the wall, panting shallowly as blood continues to pour from his abdomen. oh well, he’d wait his turn—only after his soldiers were taken care of.

kaeya shuts his eyes, letting his body rest for a minute.

“you’re wounded.”

his eyes shoot open to see you standing in front of him. he assumes you’re not one of the nuns because your clothes are entirely different. you’re young, appearing to be around his age as you eye his torso critically.

“it appears so,” he answers.

“did someone take a look at you yet?”

“i’d prefer all my soldiers be taken care of first.”

your eyes flash with recognition. “so you’re captain kaeya?”

“indeed i am.” he lets his eyes roam over your concerned features.

you give him a small smile before continuing with a sigh. “i can safely tell you that all the wounded are being treated. i’m still an apprentice so i’m only here to deal with the non fatal injuries. like yours, captain.” you crouch down in front of him, fingers reaching towards his clothing with a silent question of permission. he lets his hand slacken as he gives you a nod and you attempt to peel back as many layers as you can to asses the damage before you’re motioning him towards a tent.

a few minutes later and kaeya is letting you strip his torso bare until you have a full view of his injury. your fingers brush over the wounded skin gently, and he wonders if you even touched him at all. “it’s long, but not too deep. a few stitches and you should be alright. if you’re okay with it, i’ll get started,” you tell him.

kaeya wants to tell you that he’s no stranger to the pain of injuries, but he finds something oddly refreshing about your comforting attitude, so he just says yes and lets you begin to work.

you thread through the skin with a delicate hand and despite the sting he honestly can’t even focus on it, choosing instead to analyze your features.

he realizes that you’re awfully pretty.

kaeya makes small talk with you as you work, partly to stay awake through the pain and mostly because he can’t stop his curiosity. he finds out your name, your hobbies, your goals. you may not have the most exciting life but kaeya thinks there’s something so alluring about you it makes him a little dizzy. he's not sure what it is, but he thinks about it the whole time you tend to his wound. realization hits when you finally finish, looking up at him with a smile, and kaeya realizes that your eyes hold the stars in them.

it’s hard to explain but when kaeya watches you work, nose scrunching in the dim lighting of the tent, he thinks you remind him of home.

(kaeya has chased the stars for as long as he can remember. he remembers shouting with diluc in the grass behind the winery, the two of them reaching for celestia because the stars up there were so undeniably pretty.

"we're never gonna get them!" diluc would laugh, trying hard to balance kaeya on his little shoulders. "they're too far…"

and kaeya only grins down at him toothily, raising his fists to the sky. "no way! i'll catch them one day!"

and yet his whole childhood went by without being able to capture the stars. as he grew older he started to learn that it was impossible to steal what the sky so selfishly held on to.

but even as an adult, kaeya knows to appreciate the stars when he gets the privilege to see them in the sky.

especially after he finally seems to find them in the dim glow of a medical tent.)

he hates to admit how often his eyes seek you out after that one encounter. sometimes he’ll see you at the cat's tail, giggling with your friends as you slam tcg cards down on the table triumphantly. other times he’ll catch a glimpse of you at good hunter, chewing on a quick meal as you browse through a book. almost every time he gets caught staring you only smile and offer him a little wave that sends his brain into a frenzy.

(maybe in another life kaeya would allow himself the luxury. he’d let himself go through the motions for you. let himself stress every time you threw a glance his way. work up the courage to ask you out on saturday afternoon. finally get the chance to press his lips to yours. trace your skin with nimble fingers and have the privilege to call you his.

in another life maybe.

but for now he’ll just keep you his own little secret—a guilty pleasure he’ll indulge in because it’s hard to rid an addiction, especially if you don’t have the will to rid it in the first place.)

kaeya’s messed up this summer. he knows it in his soul that he’s made the wrong decision as he watches you babble about something as you lean against his bare chest, still basking in your own afterglow.

he knows that he should have resisted the temptation. as soon as he and the troops got back and he saw you sitting in a secluded corner at angel’s share he knew that his feelings for you hadn’t dissolved.

they say absence makes the heart grow fonder and kaeya only now knows this to be true because just the sight of you sends his mind into a frenzy. you could probably feel his gaze on you because you look up from the book you’re reading and make straight eye contact with him. for a second, he wants to turn away but then you smile at kaeya like you’ve never once forgotten him, and he’s putty. before he knows it, he’s buying you a drink and walking over to your little corner to make himself comfortable.

it’s a slow descent for him because in his head he knows he shouldn’t get too attached. he’ll leave again soon with the troops, and who knows maybe he’ll leave them behind one day too. his future has always looked so clouded to him, and he knows you belong in the sun. he’d like to leave you there in the light—avoid dragging you into his darkness.

so he tries to keep it simple, occasionally meeting you for a drink or catching up around the city. but then you’re showing him your favorite place to study near starfell lake and he’s showing you his favorite stars while laying on his back on starsnatch cliff. and he knows he can’t avoid it.

soon enough he’s giving into everything he said he wouldn’t, finally finding out what you taste like. finally knowing how his name sounds when it falls from your lips.

it's more addicting than he could've predicted, the feeling of your breath against his skin as you pant out his name. kaeya can't even bring himself to pull away from you to stop and think for a second. if he did then maybe he could slap some sense into himself and draw some distance because archons above he was digging himself deeper into this hole. but he can't, not when you're gripping his shoulders as he presses you against the wall of his bedroom, whining into his lips for all that he can give you.

and kaeya is nothing if not generous.

so he indulges both you and himself—the perfect mix of selfless and selfish as he guides you to his bed, nimble fingers loosening the ties of your clothing until you're bare in front of him. he can see the bashfulness settling into your cheeks and he almost feels like goading for just a minute, but he decides he'll be nice.

you've always deserved a nice guy anyway.

he tries to push that thought away, instead distracting himself with the heat of your body, his fingers dancing along your skin eagerly. maybe, just this one night, he can let it be about you two. he can afford to forget about all the old promises he's made—all the responsibilities and duties he devoted himself to a lifetime ago.

kaeya ignores the flush of heat crawling up his neck as he hovers over you, caging your body underneath his as you squirm in anticipation. he understands—the tightness in his pants is enough for him to feel the same. but he's not worried about that, not when his fingers part your thighs eagerly, brushing over heated skin and finding slick wetness there as he dips into your cunt. he hears the sharp intake of breath, the quiet restrained moan, and he preens. kaeya revels in the sounds he pulls from your lips as his fingers curl against your slick heat, your head lolling back against his pillows.

there's a possessive streak of something that cuts through him then—something that tells him how he aches to be the only one who gets to hear those sounds.

it makes him slightly sick.

kaeya realizes then—he's been quite stupid when it comes to you. he's kept the maelstrom of feelings brewing in his soul trapped under all his bravado, arrogant and cowardly all at once. he needs to tell you, needs to be honest because this isn't something he can trick his way out of.

but all he wants to do is run. run so far away from you because he doesn't want you to to get caught up in his own ruin. you're far too good for him, too sweet and carefree to be tainted by his sin-laden hands. he needs to run.

but he does none of that, not when he's guiding his fingers to the apex of your thighs and exploring territory he knows he shouldn't claim. because then you look at him with an expression so blissful—so thankful, relieved that he's giving you a part of himself he never wanted to—and he can't even be angry about it.

kaeya presses his lips to the swell of your chest, feeling the rapid thumping of your heart under your skin, and he shuts his eyes as he breathes out your name. you answer with a resounding mewl, catching his eyes even through the dark strands of his hair.

he then chooses to focus on pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt because archons do you look heavenly when your eyes roll back like that.

but it scares him, the way you leave him open and exposed and aching even when he doesn't want to be.

in his head you're perfect, all bright and glowing under him as you chant his name like he's some kind of savior. but kaeya isn't a savior—if anything he's destruction in human form, sent by the heavens to wreak havoc on those around him. he'd destroyed enough already—he doesn't think he can do it to you too.

but archons the way you're looking at him now, from under fluttering lashes and dewy eyes that shine even brighter when they're trained on him—begging, pleading, and oh so trusting of him and every thing he wants to give you. he can't even help himself.

"i know, sweet girl," he sighs, voice strained as you buck your hips just perfect—a temptress, sent to lead him to his doom. and yet he can't stop his fingers from pushing back your hair from your sweaty skin, knowing that he should be careful because he doesn't want to destroy something as fragile as this.

"kaeya please," your breath comes out in short desperate pants, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders haphazardly.

"i know," he repeats, reaching down to heft your thigh over his waist as he slots his hips against your own, biting back a groan at the sensitive brush against his cock—throbbing, aching, needy.

"ah fuck," he's almost shy at the way his voice shakes as he lines his cock up, the heat and slickness of your cunt a teasing caress against his sensitive head. he drops his forehead against your shoulder, breathing heavily even before he's inside you because something about this makes him so incredibly nervous. a single desperate whine and the soft squeeze of your fingers into his biceps and he's stilling—breath catching, heart pounding.

for a moment, he doesn't even feel like himself. he's not anything, no one.

and then he slides in and kaeya knows that there will never be anything better—another experience that would feel this right in his life.

he pulls out a little, gaze lingering at the sweat beading at your forehead, and something in his chest stutters. "okay?" he traces your face for any hint of hesitation—of the nervousness that he feels in his gut, but all he finds is a stormy mix of desire and devotion.

"uh huh," reassurance, stability—everything he isn't. his brows pinch, eyes shutting because he doesn't want you to know.

he's pulled out of the whirlwind that is his thoughts when he feels your fingers on his cheek, brushing over his skin gently. his eyes snap open, and even through the haze he can feel himself relaxing under your touch, because the way you're looking at him is so undeniably loving and it makes his stomach flip.

"you okay?" you whisper, looking up at him carefully, and kaeya feels as though you've put him between the halves of a microscope slide to analyze him.

"i'm fine," he breathes out, not a lie but not the whole truth either. "don't worry."

his words do little to quell you, but one roll of his hips has your eyes fluttering, a choked moan escaping your throat, and the sound makes his pride sing.

there's an image then—hazy and yet so obvious as his brain registers it. the implications behind it makes his stomach churn.

quiet smiles, hazy kisses, soft goodbyes—and then the inevitable distance as he crosses over the border separating your world from his. a lone figure standing in the streets of mondstadt, always waiting for him to come back. always disappointed.

you buck your hips upward, blissfully unaware of the torrent of conflicting emotions in his head. kaeya's brain short-circuits, and then he's pushing back, a steady rhythm against your gummy walls that takes the breath out of your lungs. you savor every thrust, punctuated by the sharp grunts he lets out against your throat.

your fingers rake over his back, desperate and needy and focused on one thing only—kaeya, kaeya, kaeya.

"that's it sweetheart," he doesn't have any more control—not on his mind, his body, his mouth. they've all escaped his grasp, too spurred on by you and everything you're willing to offer him.

"'s okay…ah fuck…it's okay," kaeya groans into the column of your throat, not sure whether he's telling you or himself. the clench of your walls sends him spiraling, hips picking up the pace as he pistons his cock in and out—trying to find out just how far he can go.

then he hits one spot, and his vigilant gaze catches the way your jaw slackens, eyes glazing over even as they roll back and a shaky moan escapes your throat—surprised, unexpecting. his ego jumps.

an experimental roll of his hips against the same spot and you make a sound so unhinged that he finds himself already addicted to it. and to tease is in his nature.

"yeah? right there?" he drawls, masking his anxiousness with his bravado once again.

"right there," you whimper, nodding meekly as you grip his shoulders. he huffs out a soft laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your eyelids like he's trying to kiss away the tears that have gathered there. you preen under his ministrations—it feels a little too domestic.

he understands. it scares him, but he understands. he wonders what the point of worrying is—wonders why he's letting his paranoid brain taint this moment that he'd been waiting for. the only solution left is to ignore it. because you're here, writhing underneath him in the throes of pleasure, vulnerable and trusting and just for him. he should give you what you deserve after all.

so kaeya pushes every other thought out of his head, only focused on you and making you feel good because that's what someone like you deserves—everything you desire laid at your feet.

he presses a chaste kiss to your mouth, paired with a languid roll of his hips as he quietly groans. "okay…." his voice comes out an octave lower, pushed down by the barely concealed need for you. "okay sweet girl. i've got you."

another searing kiss as he breathes through his nose, picking up the pace again as he slams his cock into the spot that makes you see stars. your moans get louder even as they remain muffled against his lips, and kaeya can't help but dig his fingers into the meat of your thigh, leaving behind finger shaped dents in the plushy skin.

a claim—possessive, desperate, selfish.

your kisses become sloppier as kaeya leads you closer to the edge, walls clenching around the length of him, tighter with every thrust he delivers. the chants of his name have become almost reverent, and kaeya thinks his name couldn't possibly sound more beautiful than in that moment. he wonders if he could be blessed to hear it for the remainder of his life, and the thought sends pure unadulterated need through him.

his hips stutter, red hot fire coursing through his chilled veins—building, climbing, overwhelming as every sense goes fuzzy with heat. his grunts become more irregular, in time with the reckless thrusts of his cock as your cunt tightens around him greedily.

his cock twitches as you suck him in eagerly, feeling every ridge and vein as he grunts and groans and tightens his hold on you—unyielding, unrelenting, selfish.

your eyes stay locked on his even as your orgasm rips through you, and kaeya sees celestia in them—brighter than ever before. your muscles spasm, clenching almost painfully as you tremble and writhe underneath him, and he follows you to the doorstep of nirvana with a throaty groan. his hips stutter, twitching and throbbing as he pants out a broken chorus of your name and every praise that doesn't do you justice.

then he drops his forehead against yours, watching your eyelids flutter—celestial stars dim. a soft brush of your lips against his.

your muscles go lax, every guard dropped just for him—trust he realizes, trust he doesn't deserve. he doesn't know how to tell you that.

because even after everything—when you're curled up against his chest, skin warm and dewy against his own, he does not think about how he adores the feeling of your hair brushing against his arm, nor does he focus on the soft tickle of your breathing washing over him. instead he thinks about how he's ruined it all, how he's dragged you into him, and how he needs to let you go before he destroys you completely.

at the end of the summer, kaeya tells you he can’t.

“what are you talking about?” you ask him, a light chuckle escaping your lips as you barely focus on his words. your nose is buried in some medical text, and kaeya thinks that the universe is punishing him now by making him repeat himself.

“us. we shouldn’t have…” he sighs, shoulders dropping. “i mean, we should stop…seeing each other.”

he can practically feel the way his words pull your attention and when he looks up he sees the way your grip on the book has slackened. there’s panic settling in your eyes, mixed with a bit of confusion. a conflicted emotion runs across your face and kaeya’s fingers itch to touch you. “w-why?”

it’s a simple question and he should have no problem answering it, but he struggles to get the words out, his throat constricting uncomfortably. “it was fine in the summer, when i was back here with the troops. but now i’ll have to leave and-“

“so what?” you question, turning in your seat to face him completely. his eyes drop to the shirt you’re wearing, his shirt, and he feels his heart squeezing.

“so-“ he gulps, head spinning as he tries to explain himself. he doesn’t even have a proper answer—he just knows that this is his only option. because there’s no way in hell he deserves this kind of comfort, this kind of happiness. “so i cant-“

“can’t what, kaeya?” you stress, voice going slightly higher and he only then sees the real fear in your expression.

he pauses, mulling over his words and the bitter taste they’re leaving in his mouth. he can feel the sting of your pleading stare, and he swallows hard. “can’t stay,” he finally answers, and he’s shocked at how miserable he sounds.

you look at him like he’s insane, and honestly he feels like he might be. you’re confused and rightfully so, because there are so many remnants of him left in your space, so clearly evident the impact he’s left on you.

“can’t or won’t?”

kaeya’s eyes snap up to yours, because the tremor in your voice sends a jolt of fear down to his stomach, churning and roiling until it makes him sick.

he regrets looking, because he can feel himself breaking then and there.

you’re looking at him with these shining eyes and he swears that he’s glimpses them again—the brightest stars he’s ever had the privilege of seeing. for a second he thinks the light of those stars might disappear because that’s what always happens. but they remain, glowing against the backdrop of your irises and he’s captivated all over again.

his plans to leave you in tears fly out the window then and there.

he’s reaching for your cheeks in less than a second, holding them delicately as he lets his thumbs brush over your teary lashes. there’s a reasonable bit of confusion in your face at his sudden change, but when he leans down to kiss you, you don’t protest, melting into him even though he’s so undeniably cold. kaeya doesn’t even realize he’s saying he loves you, choosing to murmur it against your lips because it’s not meant for anyone else to hear—just the two of you.

he remains there, in the quiet darkness of your room for the rest of the night, because he doesn’t want to leave your side even after he told himself he would.

and yes, he dreads tomorrow. he dreads tomorrow because he knows that he will have to choose between the comfortable home he’s found in you or the dark abyss that has swallowed his past.

he’s scared that the more he allows himself to fall into you, and the more he finds that your eyes are the ones that hold the stars of celestia, then the easier his choice will become.

he’s been chasing the stars for so long after all. now that he finally has them, why in teyvat would he let them go?

237 notes · View notes

jinkicake · 11 months

Text

Ghosting

Being thrown into the past is hard and you miss your demon more than anything [orrrrr basically MC realizes these nightbringer!demons are not their own].

Barbatos, Lucifer, Mammon, Satan x Reader

A/N: I’ve been writing and writing and enjoying myself while writing but then I go to edit/reread what I wrote and I hate it.... I’m sorry, you all will just have to deal with me freeballing my editing... Also, why am I like sooo obsessed with Satan rn

// Nightbringer spoilers (like lesson one shit lol)

WC - 2,522

~~~

Barbatos

“Why have you come to see me?”

The skepticism in Barbatos’ eyes makes you frown, despite being right in front of you, he seems so far away that it physically hurts.

There’s a feeling in his gut, something that piques his interest. It’s as if he should know you but, does not.

You could answer him truthfully and explain what the current date means to the both of you but, you refrain from doing so. Although Barbatos has a special place in his heart for anniversaries and important dates, you don’t know if this Barbatos is even aware of what today is. You choose to ask him a question of your own.

“Can you answer something for me?” Faking your confidence can only get you so far and before Barbatos has a chance to confirm or deny, you press on. “Is it true that you can see into the past and future?” You nervously toy with your hands as Barbatos stares at you, he raises a brow and quietly thinks to himself. He’s skeptical of your motives, you can tell by the way he slightly narrows his eyes.

Eventually, he answers you.

“Yes, my powers allow it.” His answer is dangerous, it fills your body with hope as your eyes widen momentarily. You can barely keep your excitement at bay, does this mean he recognizes you? You from the future?

“Then you know what today is and you know who I am, right?” You can’t help the way you step toward him, light on your toes while holding yourself back from reaching out to him.

The step back Barbatos takes causes a disappointing weight to crash onto your shoulders. He looks at you with concern and confusion, he looks at you as if he doesn’t recognize a word you’re saying.

“I fear that I only use my powers when Diavolo requests it,” Barbatos answers slowly, taking his time to clear the air. “I can’t say that I remember you or today’s date, I do apologize.”

“You’re a mere attendant, are you not?” His genuine curiosity feels dull as it pierces your heart, clawing through your chest to meet the center. You find it hard to breathe, he doesn’t remember. Even with his powers, this is not your demon.

“I am,” You find yourself whispering, if you speak any louder you might just break. The demon continues to silently stare at you and watches your vivid reactions. He blinks for a few moments while waiting for you to carry on with the point of this conversation but, you never do. You look stuck in your own head.

“Are you someone I should remember?” He tries carefully but, makes no move to get closer to you. The butler keeps a respectable distance between the two of you while trying to understand this entire interaction.

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“I’m no one important,” You smile but, Barbatos notices that it’s a bitter expression. He watches as you quietly excuse yourself and finds himself following as you head for the door.

His presence is too overwhelming and when you stupidly glance back at him, Barbatos clears his throat before speaking again.

“Well, would you like to stay for some tea?” His invitation confuses you and you realize with a crushing feeling just how little you actually know the demon. “I might not remember today but, it seems dearly important to you.”

To us. You want to correct him because Barbatos would never forget your anniversary but, all you can do is nod in acceptance.

“Good, I would not like it if you spent the day alone.” His kindness still reaches you, finding the lowest parts of your heart. Barbatos can reach you no matter the time.

You can only hope that you’ll be able to do the same.

Lucifer

“Why are you here?” The anger in Lucifer’s voice almost makes you flinch. You haven’t been this uncomfortable in his presence in a long time, it almost reminds you of your time first living in the Devildom. The oldest demon has always been the hardest to get to and your heart sinks at the thought of him being so displeased by your entire being once again.

You want to help him, whether he likes it or not.

“I wanted to see you.” You answer truthfully and momentarily look around his office. Not much has changed but, there are a few things here and there that catch your eye. There’s a lack of pictures and trinkets, his records are not in their proper positions. It seems he has not made this space his own yet.

Lucifer narrows his eyes at your staring, observing, and he loudly places his pen down on the desk to gain your attention once more. He glares at you now, maintaining eye contact as you try to keep your heart sane.

“If you are going to lie, at least make it believable,” His lips almost curl up into a sneer, an angry expression that makes your chest ache. How can you get through to him? How were you able to do it before? The memory of a time that seems like a lifetime ago slips your mind, you can’t think of any way to make Lucifer trust you.

Your eyes carefully run over his annoyed expression as he starts to work on his paperwork again. The wrinkles once by the corner of his eyes are gone and the grey that used to tint his hair is nowhere to be seen. Those features you cherish have not yet appeared. This Lucifer is not yours. He’s a younger demon now and has the appetite of one who could never stomach the patience of dealing with you.

You boldly take a step forward.

“Can I help you with that?” You try to look as nonchalant as possible, keeping a neutral expression as your heart flutters with hope. Lucifer writes a few more words before glancing up at you, the lack of emotion on his face nearly crushes your hope. This Lucifer is great at masking his emotions, almost better than your own but, you can still see the hesitance in his eyes.

“You wish to aid me in this paperwork?” He sounds as if he is in disbelief by the action, nearly scoffing at your request. Regardless of the time period, Lucifer is still overworked. You nod and at the silence on Lucifer’s end, you take another step forward to sit in the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

The demon watches you carefully, almost as if he expects you to do something out of the ordinary. He doesn’t know what to expect, you could physically jump him and that would make more sense than what you’re implying now. His red eyes don’t leave your own as he hands you a piece of paper and the feeling of his gloved fingers brushing against your own nearly makes you gasp. You’ve missed him, you’ve missed this.

“I work in silence and expect it to remain that way.” His aloof and cold personality, a mere wall, will not fool you. Quietly, you smile to yourself and reach for one of the pens by his hand.

“You should put on a record,” There’s a hum in your voice as you recommend this to the demon, it’s a knowing tone that shows you know him too well. He narrows his eyes again before ultimately shaking his head, as if he would listen to you.

But, he can’t deny how tempting the idea sounds. Maybe the two of you are more alike than he thought.

Mammon

“Keep your nose out of my business.” Mammon has never looked menacing to you before. His kind eyes and soft expressions make it hard for you to take him as anything other than the compassionate demon that he is.

You don’t recognize this Mammon in front of you.

It’s to be expected, being thrown back into time and all but, it’s still confusing. Mammon was always kind to you, even when he pretended not to be. He cared for you and looked out for you even when he acted as if he could care less about what happened to you.

“Why are you still standing there? Go.” The way he is trying to shoo you off now, how he brushes past you with rough shoulders freezes you entirely. Out of all the demons to piss off, you’re desperately scared to upset Mammon. The Mammon you know, the one you trust and hold dear, has never attacked you before. He’s never lunged or so much as made a serious threat to your well-being.

You still believe this to be true, no matter his age or the status of your relationship but, you feel hesitant. This young demon makes you feel timid and you hate it.

“Mammon, don’t.” You tightly grab his wrist with your hand and wrap your fingers around the limb. His skin burns you, lighting your entire body on fire as a phantom feeling returns to you. You’ve missed touching him, being near him. “Going in there alone is a bad idea, trust me.”

Too quickly, he yanks his wrist out of your hold and stares at you like you’ve made a threat to his life. Confusion clouds his readable features as his body tenses up, the poor demon now looks a tiny bit flustered.

The realization makes you feel warm all over.

“Yeah? What do you know about it?”

Then Mammon’s cold tone drenches you in ice water.

If he wants to be stubborn, you know perfectly well how to match him.

“I know more than you do. You go down there and there’s a good chance you’re not going to come back up.” You should have planned beforehand and thought of a better excuse to keep Mammon from going after Cerberus. Not that he knows about the beast that lingers down there, Lucifer isn’t even familiar with that pet yet. Mammon scoffs.

“Like I’m going to listen to you.” He turns on his feet again, more than ready to descend down to the lower level of the house but you grab him once more. This time you yank the back of his jacket and muster all the strength you can to pull him back.

He barely moves and stills all over. The lack of reaction from him scares you, you’d rather him scream at you and complain. His silence is something you’re not used to.

Sometimes it slips your mind that Mammon is the second oldest and strongest.

“I really don’t want you to go down there, please, Mammon.” You hope that your genuine worry for his well-being is conveyed through this plea. He’s never able to turn you away when you ask him something like this, he always gives in without a second thought because he’s your first-

“Get off of me.” Mammon clicks his tongue as he rolls his eyes, his shoulder snaps back against your hand and instantly the physical connection is broken. He glances back at you and his eyes nearly widen at the concern etched into your features. The demon tries to ignore it, he shakes his head and tries to push the odd feelings that come to the surface back down. He thinks to himself that just this once, he can give in to you. “Whatever, I forgot my wallet in my room.”

Satan

“Who do you think you are?” Satan has never looked angrier in his life, you’re sure of it. His wrath is something that you’re used to, you know how to deal with it and deflect it. You’ve memorized all the ways to calm him down and help him feel like himself again. The anger and frustration, pure hatred, of this demon is something you are too familiar with.

But, it becomes something completely new when it’s directed at you.

You’ve only been at the brute force of Satan’s anger a few times, less than you can count on one hand. Those moments should have prepared you for something like this but, in truth, you’re out of practice. You can’t even remember what Satan looked like angry before this.

“Are you deaf? Answer me.” His strong hands grip your shoulders and continue to press you into the wall of the stairway. He looks you over and the anger in his features cloud his judgment, making it impossible to see the scared expression on your face. You try to do as he asks but, when your lips part and you go to speak, your confidence falls flat. Not a single noise leaves your throat, you’re left gaping at him like a fish and nothing could make Satan angrier.

He growls in frustration, low and deep in his chest while gritting his teeth at you.

“Where did you put my fucking book?” His demand makes your eyebrows shoot to your hairline, you had almost forgotten this was all about a ‘fucking cat book’.

“I-I don’t remember,” You finally breathe out and the moment you do, you wish you could take it back.

Satan’s eye twitches, a movement in his cheek before he slowly turns his head to the side.

“You mean to tell me you lost my book?” His nails start to dig into your skin now as he lifts you off the ground. “You lowlife, pathetic-“

“I can give you something better to read!” You suddenly shout, bracing yourself for his wrath as you squeeze your eyes shut. It never comes. Satan slowly lowers you to the ground and watches you carefully with his piercing green eyes.

“What could possibly be better?” He asks carefully, cautiously as if he is sizing up your words. You have to make an impression now, you know this to be a fact.

“It’s a drama, one where you never know what is going to happen next,” You start to explain one of his favorite novels, unsure if it is even out at this point in time but, it’s a book he once loved to share with you.

“I find that hard to believe,” His eyes narrow slightly as one hand leaves your bicep to cup his chin. Satan looks deep in thought and urges you to continue with a slight nod.

“The two main leads are not supposed to work, everything in the universe is pitting them against one another but they still somehow manage to persevere,” You find yourself unable to look away from Satan as you explain the book, as you detail all the reasons why he enjoys it. The Satan you know, the one who greatly cares for you, always used to compare your relationship to the one in the novel. He even went as far as to say that your relationship was even stronger because, above all else, he always had his love to prove his feelings for you.

This Satan in front of you contemplates your words but, cannot hide the curiosity on his face. He tightly grips your bicep and begins to drag you in the direction of the library. Needless to say, your determination piqued his curiosity.

“Come, you must show me this novel.”

#Barbatos x reader #Lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #satan x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me x y/n #obey me nightbringer #barbatos x y/n #lucifer x you #mammon x y/n #satan x you

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saintels · 1 year

Text

ᝰ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰. [ smut/brainrot ] ꒷꒦

“been thinkin’ bout you all day, angel.”

she smells so sweet and the familiar, comforting aroma fills your senses to relax the tension you didn’t know was cramped deep in your head. there’s notes of her musky cologne, her hemp cigarettes, soft laces of warm caramel and what you recognise as her favourite fruit-based liqueur. she grazes her thumb over the apple of your cheek as your tipsy gaze breaks a smirk onto her lips.

her nose is brushed by the rosy flush of her high, shading the constellation of freckles that paint her nasal. her eyes are almost matching, the hues dulled to make her green irises pop.

you’re both tucked away in a dark corner of the house party, unmindful to the world around you.

“oh yeah?”.

your voice is a whisper and, in all honesty, you’re not even thinking about what’s coming out of your mouth. your attention is all on her. she’s just so fucking pretty.

she hums, nodding as her thumb drags over your balmy lips until they allow her to pry them apart softly. “mhm,”.

she lifts her thumb and watches as your tongue lolls out. you knew exactly what to do. her good, sweet girl. she watches through hooded eyes as the pink muscle rolls against her thumb, silken under her skin before you take the tip in between your lips.

“thinkin’ bout how sweet you looked in my bed last night, how you’d look there again tonight.” your blown eyes silently beg her. keep going.

“how i had you screaming on my cock, fucking you dumb.”

she doesn’t miss the way your thighs clench, taking her hand from your mouth to rest on your jaw.

“thinkin’ of all the different ways I could have you. creamin’ on my tongue,” she remembers the saccharine taste fondly, “creamin’ on my fingers.”

her hand rests at the base of your throat, thinking out loud.

“maybe i could even get you to squirt again.”

honey drips from every single filthy word that falls from her lips. whines roll and rumble in your throat as you grip the soft material of her flannel, desperation clawing at your skin with sharp nails and butterflies fluttering against the places inside of you where you need her the most.

you’re deaf to the party now and you couldn’t give any less of a fuck about who’s eyes were obsessing over the scene unfolding.

“that sound good, pretty?” she already knows the answer, “wanna go home and let me take care of this pretty pussy again?”.

ellie was a girl of her word, a promise keeper deep in her heart. so in the pale moonlight, on the soft spread of her emerald sheets; she was on her knees, ready to paint visions of stars and moons behind your closed eyes as she took you to a heaven filled with sweet, pearly arousal and blazing, toe-curling, body-tremor filled euphoria.

a message from lina: sorry this became a bit more self-indulgent then I wanted, I hope you enjoyed nevertheless. I promise there’s way better stuff coming soon, I’m just trying to ease back into the swing of it after my little break down lol. signed with a million kisses — L ᥫ᭡

INBOX/REQS: OPEN.

#pretty much just dirty talk with ellie #ellie williams #smut #x reader #f reader #fem reader #┆ 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐬 #br:elliewilliams #female reader #f! reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #part ii #pt ii #lesbian #lgbtq

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

Same as it ever was 13

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as neglect, bullying, manipulation, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can’t catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen ft. Pete Brenner

Note: I am not doing well with the time change lol

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You wallow in the jagged fragments of reality, skipping through the cracks into delirium. The pain is dull but tolerable as you languish on the couch, forgetting now and again where you are, even your own existence. Figures pass by you and vaguely familiar voices waft in the air.

“See ya, sweetheart,” Hansen's face comes clear through the haze as he leans over you and taps your thigh, “don't have too much fun without me.”

He struts away, fading back into the obscurity of your prescription laced coma. The relief is more than physical, it feels nice just to stop thinking. No kids, no scummy husband, no skeevy boss. It's just you and the sofa.

Your lashes flick as you sense another shadow. You can make out your name but nothing else. The world shifts painfully around you as a grunt cuts through your brain. Your eyes open as Pete lays you sideways on the bed.

“Honey, you okay?” He asks uneasily as he peers down at you. He leans over to touch your forehead, “hey, I'm gonna get you changed, alright?”

You garble and stay as you are. You could just fall asleep right then and there. He sighs and you sense him pacing along the foot of the bed.

He returns to you, undressing you clumsily. Each time he jars you, you whine and he apologises. You barely register each sorry as he strips away your armour.

As he unhooks your bra, you wave him off. You cover your chest, clinging to the pilly satin blend. He touches your wrist gently.

“Hey, I got a shirt,” he waves a length of fabric over you, “come on, honey.”

You pout as he pulls your arms apart and slips your bra off. You close your eyes, the mortification the only feeling to break through the medicine’s blur. He helps you sit up and unfolds the tee shirt, opening the head hole only to pause it just in front of you.

You feel him staring.

“Babe,” he rasps, “you know I still love you, don't you? It was stupid mistake–”

You groan as a surge breaks through the muddy waters of your mind. You snatch the shirt from him and hiss, your back spasming. You ignore the vicious twinge and throw the shirt over your head.

“Babe, please, let me prove it to you.”

You scoff and shove his shoulder, “look what you did,” you snap, “you did this. You hurt me.”

“I didn't mean– I was trying to make it up to you–”

“I told you to stop,” you lay back with a whimper, “but you never fucking listen.”

Your eyes roll back and you heave a shaky breath.

“Honey,” he squeezes your shoulder, “please, just give me another chance.”

“Leave me alone,” you sneer as you hide beneath your eyelids, “I got enough pain as it is.”

🗄️

You plummet into a shroudlike sleep. Your head is foggy and swimming as you body detaches from your mind. You are nothing in the ether of your subconscious.

The depths of your drugged coma recede slowly, like crumbs falling away from a scone. Little by little, the tension coils in your muscles and the ache becomes less dull. It isn't until the thrumming becomes an agonizing pounding that you escape your medicated stupor.

Your eyes snap open as a tickle along your thigh sends tendrils through you, knotting between your hips as you whimper. God, you hurt so bad. You need more of your pills.

Your discomfort is made little better by the stiff bend of your legs. At first, you don't understand why you're splayed like that, knees at an angle, hips wide open. The cool sensation along your folds has you gasping as you throw your hand down to ward off your assailant.

You lift your head shakily and stare at your husband bent between your legs. If you hadn't already uncovered his sliminess, you'd be in disbelief. You're only dazed by the dregs of your prolonged slumber and the intensity of your tortured tailbone. You push on his head, his hair slightly greasy as it dangles down to tickle your pelvis.

"What..." you eke out, "are you... do--"

You drop down and wrack with pain as he prods along your folds. Your tailbone is on fire. He continues he violation as you squirm and whine helplessly. You're nearly blinded in agony.

"St-st-stop," you stammer between shallow breaths.

"I told you, baby," he purrs as he pokes his fingers past your entrance, "I can show you how much you mean--"

"It hurts--" you babble, "Pete, please, you're hurting me---"

He hushes you and bites into the tender flesh along your thigh as he dips his fingers into the knuckles. Your eyes well up as your muscles draw tighter and tighter. You want him to stop but you can't fight your own weakness.

"Stop," you snivel as your head lolls back and forth, "stop, please..."

"Baby, you're wet," he snarls and laps at your folds, "you were wet..." he breaths humidly against you, "before I even touched you."

"N-n-nooooo," you mewl and close your eyes.

This isn't happening. You said stop, you said no, but he's not listening to you. When does he ever? But that's about the chores and schedules and responsibilities.

"P-p--" you puff out.

"Shhhh," he purrs, "gonna wake the kids..."

His tongue delves along your cunt again and he rams his fingers in deeper. Your tears spill down your temples as you clutch rumpled duvet to one side of you. You can't believe this is happening. And you can't believe after the months you spent pleading for you to touch you that it feels so rotten. He doesn't want you, not really, he just doesn't want to lose what you do for him.

You close your eyes, trying to forget what's happening, trying not to feel but it's too goddamn painful. Flashes glimmer in your mind. Another man, another touch. Lloyd's silty slither taunting your mind. You're back on the couch and he's crowding you, touching you, but it's not the same. You can't find that peak. The final release.

Pete slips his fingers out of you, growling as he lifts himself over you. You sense his shadow and the bed jostles you, drawing several squeaks from your wrought lips. He bends over you, his breath scalding you as his body heat roils across your skin. He rubs his tip against your folds and sighs.

"You came," he snarls, "I felt it."

You don't even have the strength to argue. You can't feel anything but repulsion for him. You're not even close to orgasm. You're only delirious because of the ringing at the base of your spine.

He angles himself along your cunt and holds his breath as he leans his weight into you. He forces himself inside, jolting you as he loses all patience. Your cheeks are a flood of horror and helplessness. Your legs fall flat as he begins to thrust, short, harried bursts that have him panting into the crook of your neck. He growls and grits out your name as he ruts.

It doesn't last long. You don't even have time to wish it's over. He's done. He collapses on you and your voice fizzles to a weak rasp. Ow.

"Figure we could get some of that tension out," he nuzzles your neck.

"Get. Off," you gnash through your teeth.

"Huh?" He gurgles and raises his head to gape down at you, "honey--"

"Why--" you gulp back your disbelief and push on his shoulders, "get off!"

"Woah, woah, the kids are sleeping--"

"Yeah, so you do that," you sneer as you slap him, your hand only weakly glancing off his cheek, "get off of me."

"I was only tryna make it up to you," he whines as he slides out of you and sits back on his heels, "come on. What do I have to do to get through to you--"

"Owwwww," you sit up with as much strength as you can must, nearly sobbing from the agony, "stay away from me."

You push yourself off the bed and crumple to your knees. The shirt clings around your middle as you quake, putting your hands flat to the floor as you crawl across it. The bed lurches as Pete bounces off behind you.

"Here, let me help--"

"You touch me again and I am going to lose it," you snap, your breath laboured around your threat.

"I..." his protest shrivels up. "I'm sorry."

"Fuck off," you reach to pull open the door, ready to break down as you think of the trek ahead of you. Two floor down to the cot in the basement.

You hear him harrumph and can picture the pout on his lips. You hate him. You hate him so much that you don't even feel bad about what Hansen's going to make you do. You might even like it.

🗄️

You only make it down to the couch. You manage to drag yourself onto the cushions and get under the throw blankets. You think of snagging some more pills but think better of it. It'll be up to you to get the day started, as always.

You don't sleep. You just lay in the aftermath of what happened. Of what Pete did. It churns your stomach so violently it makes you hurt even more.

It's over. That's what really keeps you awake. Your marriage is done. It's not just his doing, it's yours. You need to cut the fat and yet you feel guilty at just the thought.

You wake up at your usual time. You swallow a single pill with a cup of bitter coffee. You pause as you look at the label of the amber bottle.

��Take one pill every six to eight hours.’

You think back to the two tablets in Hansen's palm. You should've known better. You do. You just can't think straight through the pain.

You climb the stairs one at a time and hobble down to the kids’ rooms. You get Simone up first and she helps you with Malik.

“Mom, you look tired,” she says as she takes a sleepy Malik by the hand and tugs him away from his bed. “Did you sleep at all?”

“A little,” you answer evasively, “come on.”

You usher the kids downstairs, gripping the railing for life. As you come to the bottom, your legs wobble. You can’t hide the moment of weakness from Simone as she turns to watch you.

“Mom, please, sit down,” she begs, I’ll make cereal for Maiik and get him ready.”

“Sweetie–”

“Where’s dad?” She interrupts, “he should be doing this?”

You blink. You think of telling her to go find him but given the last time you saw him, you’re too nervous to do that. You wouldn’t want her to find him in a certain condition.

“He’s getting ready for work,” you sigh, “I got some time off for my back, I can handle the morning.”

“You won’t get better if you don’t stop–”

“Simone, I get it, okay? But I’m your mother, it’s my job to take care of you, not the other way around,” you say firmly, “you can get Malik his cereal and you get yourself some too, okay? You two can catch the bus with Erica today.”

She frowns but accepts your order. It’s a compromise. You know you can’t drive. Just the thought of getting in the car makes you want to vomit.

You grab the inflatable cushion and add a few breaths to it before setting it on the couch. You lower yourself with a grunt and shift, your comfort dangling just beyond grasp. The problem is you can’t stop fucking tensing up.

You lean your head back and blow out a breath. You listen to the soft clink of two bowls and the fridge, the pouring of hard cereal into porcelain. It’s not that bad. You’ll get up to help them brush their teeth and brush their hair and all that.

“Come on, Malik, you have to eat at the table.”

“I’m sleepyyyyy,” he grumbles as you hear him stomp across the tile.

“So am I, be quiet,” Simone snaps and the bowls clink down. “Sit down and eat.”

You rub your forehead, yawning as you commiserate quietly with Malik’s struggle. A dash of colour flits by and before you can call after her, Simone is rushing up the stairs. Dammit. You can’t keep up. You’re old and fat and hurt and useless. Explains a lot.

You cringe as your ears tweak, listening above for the commotion.

“Dad, get up! You have to come down and help mom,” Simone’s voice is loud as she nearly hollers at your husband.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m up, I’m up,” he grumbles as footsteps come muffled through the ceiling.

The stairs creak as they descend. Pete wears a pair of boxers and a grey tank. You look away, mortified.

“I can’t get Malik dressed by myself and I don’t know how to make coffee,” Simone says.

“Right,” he utters as he lingers by the kitchen door.

Simone goes back to the table and you hear her spoon hit the bowl as the chair legs scrape on the floor. Pete stares at you as you ignore him for the wall. He huffs before passing into the kitchen. You hate this. You hate feeling so futile.

You flinch as a knock hammers on the front door. You whine as a pang strikes up your spine. Pete comes back in, a coffee filter in hand. He clammers across the room into the entryway and the lock loudly grinds back.

“Oh, hey, uh, Lloyd?”

“Sup, Petey Pie,” Hansen’s voice chirps back, “hope you like Dunkins. They got a cinnamon roll ice coffee I thought the missus would love. Got you a tall black and the kids some donuts.”

“Wow, you didn’t have to do that.”

You hate these men and how fake they are. More so, how pestilent they are. Two sides of a sleazy ass coin. Counterfeit at best.

“Figure you could use the help,” Hansen continues, “get the kids out the door. Oh, I also called my specialist. Can get her in for scans at noon, make sure nothing’s totally broken.”

“That’s great,” Pete croaks, “uh, come in, I guess.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Hansen sings.

#same as it ever was #lloyd hansen #pete brenner #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #dark pete brenner #dark!pete brenner #lloyd hansen x reader #pete brenner x reader #pain hustler #the gray man #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au

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sketchingstars03 · 9 months

Text

Protection VS Destruction

A furiously protective father vs the killer of anomalies

Anomalies like… little Splatter?

Wait… is her soul… human?? But… she’s a monster…?

This truly is a central conflict for a story

Ink is by Comyet

Error is by loverofpiggies Aka Crayon Queen

and we all know who created Splatter by now I think ;3

Some further rambles under the cut 👀

Alrighty, so! As stated about this art shows one of if not The main conflict of Splattertale, with the reveal of our main antagonist, Error!

Because ofc no Ink-Centric story is complete without Error as an antagonistic force of SOME kind.

I kid, there are obviously options where he’s not lol.

But yeah. Also he’s not really a villain here he’s just, opposed to the protagonists. Which makes him an antagonist! Because he… wants to kill Ink’s kid for being a glitch… Okay maybe that’s a BIT villainous, but he’s just doing his job! It’s nothing personal… right Ink? Right… ?

Also I know Ink looks SUPER pissed off and protective here but I wanna make it clear he DOESN’T hate Error in this story. Has some.. complicated feelings about him (None of them romantic, Sorry-not-sorry ErrorInk fans, I’m just not into it), but none of them are Hatred. In fact he’s tried to befriend Error several times in the past! Though that can’t exactly work out now… (trying to hunt down someone’s kid to delete them for being a “mistake” kinda puts a damper on your potential friendship with them :/)

Splatter’s soul is indeed a human soul. How this is possible I will explain later, but for now just know that her creation isn’t exactly natural. It’s devoid of any trait, which is why it’s white like a monster soul, and has very low DETERMINATION for a soul of its type. Still way more than a monster soul can have, but low for a human’s.

Being a “freak of nature” like that has landed her quite on Error’s list of “Things to Destroy”

This drawing also features my personal interpretation of the Doodlesphere! I sorta combined the two canon versions, the Floating Islands and Buckets. The Splattertale-verse Doodlesphere is comprised of floating islands that hold deep lakes of paint as entry points into the respective AUs. Each island is decorated with items that represent the AU it leads to!

With this in mind, try and guess which AU is which ;3

…

okay I’m gonna give the answers anyway

We’ve got Underswap (specifically Star Sanses Blue’s underswap)

Underfell right behind Ink

XTale in the top right

Outertale in the distance near where XTale is

and Dreamtale on the bottom left!

The appearance of the island also reflects the state of the AU, hence why Xtale is cracked and leaking (because of its destruction), and why Dreamtale looks so dull. With its stump of a tree and unbalanced paint-lake (it used to be a beautiful mix of yellow and purple)

So yeah, I think that’s all I have to say abt this piece for now! Don’t worry I’m gonna elaborate on these little lore bits in time! This entire story rotates in my brain like it’s in a microwave on a daily basis lmao

Hope you like it! :3 (And thank you if you read this far!)

#splattertale #splatterutmv #ink sans #error sans #utmv #undertale au #utmv oc #undertale au story #sketchingstars art #error stop trying to murder your rival’s daughter challenge (difficulty: impossible)#dw he hasn’t succeeded… so far…#I think I’ve said enough about that for now #I hope to share more lore soon!!#splatterverse lore #bapy sploot #st ink #st error

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sillygoosealert · 2 months

Note

How about Smoke being a doctor and his patient is the reader and they have feelings for each other?

Yes sweet pea, I love this idea 🎀

trust the process, is it a little weird? Yeah, but I had a vivid vision. Also, this isn’t really how these visits go lol, and this story doesn't make sense but it's okay because you guys have sex

Are you allowed to be this close ?? (。·o·。)ﾉ

AFAB reader, female reader, you clean up nice because you're scared to make a bad impression, the whole thing’s sexual I could stop I'm sorry, VIRGIN LOSER (both of you)

You have to go to the gynecologist - for a check up

You've done this before, but it doesn't make you feel less nervous

You clean up, shower, and wear your cutest bra and panties- not fancy or dull. A cute white pair with a pink bow on top. Keeping it classy

You spray yourself down with perfume, then you head off

When you walk in it's clean and smells of sanitation products , mm..

You walk up to the front, and you're guided to a room and you wait

A man with short grey hair comes in and closes the door behind him

‘Hello miss, how are you doing’

‘I’m fine..how are you?’A heads-up that it was a guy would be nice

‘I’m alright. If you want to go ahead and lay down for me and talk about why you’re here we can get started’ Next he’s going to tell you to take off your pants and cough for him.

You do as you are told and tell him you’re just here for your annual check-up

‘Alright, go ahead and take your pants off for me’

You slip them off and he just stares at your panties, for a lot longer than he should have

He rubs his face, which now has a tint of pink and he puts on some gloves

‘Alright, I'm going to go ahead and make sure everything looks alright and feels fine..’ He's starting to breathe hard, this might be his first time-or he's just nervous

‘Okay..’

He keeps your panties on but slides the part keeping your pussy hidden aside

You're burning up, he starts to put his fingers inside you

‘Can you take two or do you need me to go slow..?’ sorry?

‘Sorry?’

‘I just- I'm sorry, I don't want to accidentally hurt you..’ oh, yeah, that makes more sense

‘I can handle two, it's fine’

He shutters, sliding two of his fingers in and out as soft slapping noises fill the room

You softly grip the parchment paper you're lying on and breathe a little faster

‘Does that feel fine..?’ he's leaning closer to your ear, making you hum and nod

He starts to move his fingers deeper and in different spots

When he hits your G-spot, you bury your head in his shoulder and gently moan in soft breaths

‘That's..that's fine too, right?’

‘Feels good..’ you have one hand on his shoulder now, the other on the arm he's fingering you with

He rubs your clit with his thumb and kisses your neck, asking if you have any discomfort or pain with this- you answer no, of course

He pulls away his fingers, gets down, and puts his nose on your clit

He starts to thrust his tongue in and out of you, reaching the same spots as he did with his fingers but it feels..better

You grip his hair and whimper, mumbling incoherent praises and pleas

Then you climax on him, squirting and soaking his face and neck

He is, of course, thankful and licks it up, squeezing your thighs a little

He settles his bulge on you- and you get a little nervous

‘I haven't.. I'm not- this is my first time..’

‘It's okay, I'll take care of you..’

‘Okay..’

He pulls his pants down enough and as he takes it out, he delicately takes off your panties

Slipping in the tip, he puts an arm around you and keeps you close

It slowly makes its way in you, a thick stretch, but it’s mainly lengthy

He humps into you, holding you with one hand, rubbing your clit with the other

He's pounding into you at this point, bringing you both so close

He bites your neck as he finishes, making you climax too

as you both calm down, he pulls out, stuffs his leaking seed back into you, and helps you dress

‘Everything is fine, but I would come back in a couple of weeks just to make sure..’

‘Okay..will you be my doctor again..?’

‘If you want me to I can be, I'll take care of your appointment. Take care, and get home safe, please..’

With that you leave, maybe you should come more often- for your own health of course

AH AHHAHHHHHAHGWVEVWVVVV HHHHHHH AHHHHH AHHH 🎀

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #mk smoke #tomas vrbada #mortal kombat tomas vrbada #mortal kombat smoke #mortal kombat smut

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starryficsfinishwen · 4 months

Text

✧。◟[NSFW] ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴅᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ — lee x reader [PGR]

so I'm coming home to you

synopsis ; there are answers far beyond words in between turbulences. you are looking for those in lee's battles, in the way he sat beside you, yet what can you say, when the ride home is silent?

alternatively: starry was unsatisfied because we never knew what happened after the epilogue and got a time skip instead, so she is writing it down on her terms LOL

a.n. - this idea came to me while I was cooking breakfast. I nearly dropped the bowl. I nearly dropped my eggs 😭 also I wanna suggest listening to fallingforyou by The 1975 for this too if yall wanna. I wanted this to be an angst to fluff but I decided to make it in a separate post LOL ALSO I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS EARLIER AHAHAHA I'm sorri oh well

pairing - lee hyperreal x f!commandant

words - 7,691

warnings - WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 21: SPIRAL OF CHRONOS. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, NSFW THEMES: soft sex hehe, body worship, cunnilingus, creampie-, vaginal penetration, squirting, virginity loss but it's the both of them LOL, lee being so soft and gentle. semi-established relationship, mutual pining.

edit - dividers by @/saradika-graphics!

The ride home is silent.

A gentle lull of a torrential downpour, multiple raindrops pattering on the aircraft's window. Apart from the tired snores and occasional groaning of both constructs and commandants, you are certain: everyone on the aircraft was alive. Miraculously, even if the chances of being so were as small as a pea.

A sharp pain in your mind knocks on your head. Ah, right. Although the realization finally hits you, the piercing pain in your head has yet to dull, after all of the events that unfolded. You wondered, how lucky you were to be alive, despite connecting with so many constructs, all the while maintaining a deep M.I.N.D. connection with Lee. Perhaps, the gods listened to your selfish plea.

After all, Lee came back alive. And he is sitting, silently beside you.

Arms crossed as he leaned on the chair you both sat in, his frame never leaving a hint of space between you. His mesmerizing cerulean eyes were hidden, eyes closed as he breathed so softly.

It's the first time you've seen Lee's frame up close. The first time as a hologram, the second after he emerged from the tower. And now, one glance away.

His hair was a lighter shade of blonde, long bangs covering up until his eyes. Face more defined, looking more mature, yet still so youthful. There weren't any scars on Lee's face anymore, unlike his Entropy frame. Despite his cold and neutral face, as he slept, you can't help but notice that he looked more gentle, softer. Your hand reached out carefully trying not to disturb his sleep, fingers lightly tracing from the top of his head, to the side of his face, to his lips— a thought passed your mind, but you shook your head instead.

As you pulled away, Lee's hand grabbed yours.

“You are shaking,” a whisper that tickled your ear brought you back to reality, “are you alright, my Commandant?”

My Commandant. He only called you that in a fierce, stoic tone. But now, his voice is so tranquil, you might have mistaken it as a phantom. A ripple rumbles through your chest. Lee's voice, although you've heard it so many times, never failed to make you shake, never failed to make you sigh of relief. Unlike his Entropy and Palefire frames, what changed? His new frame is gentler, softer, too. Grasping the warm blanket wrapped around you, you felt Lee lean closer to you. You looked back at him, finding a worried expression across his face.

A face you've seen for the first time, should have made you afraid. Yet, the new face is looking at you, the same way he used to. A sense of familiarity, a sense of comfort.

“I'm okay,” you admitted, “Please don't worry.”

The windows were tinted dark, a few shimmering stars outside. In the dim light of the evening haze, cerulean eyes looked down on you, calculating and quiet. “Is there something wrong? You seem distressed.”

Apart from all the events that conspired earlier, it's probably safe to say that you were far from okay. But you still held onto your words, “Nothing. I just...wanted to see you up close.”

Sturdy, mechanical arms wrapped themselves around your frail, tired body. The gesture made you sink into Lee's chest, a new wave of comfort entangling itself on both of your bodies. Yes, this was— and still is— the man you liked for a long time. And this was the same space you've always loved to drown in, away from the cold, war-struck world.

“Wasn't it you who told me not to shoulder everything,” Lee chuckled, “You can tell me the truth, my Commandant. I am here to bear it all with you.”

His words made you snort. “Oh, now you take my words?”

“I remember everything you say, orders and everything.”

The turbulence seemed to hit a little harder, as Lee held you tighter in his embrace. You found yourself nestled in his lap eventually, cradled like a child in your teammate's arms. You still looked at Lee, searching for something. Two awake individuals now converse in hushed tones.

“You're making me quite nervous, Commandant.” Lee spoke as you continued to stare at him.

“I still can't believe that you are here.” You childishly poked his puffed cheeks, “Are you sure you're real?”

Ah, there he is. His usual stoic expression as he looked at you nonchalantly. But they were quickly replaced with a warm smile, eyes softening at your antics. “My Commandant, I believe that we are still connected right now. Do you wish to check it?”

As far as you were concerned, what Lee said is true; the connection with him is still a brightly burning flame, signaling its closeness with you right now. Yet, as you continue to gaze at your teammate, who was looking elsewhere, another realization dawned on you. Reaching out to touch his neck, his shoulders, his metallic chest— all hardened, like a cyborg. But you can still feel it, in your fingertips, his heartbeat reflecting yours, a cadenza of fluttering butterflies.

“Commandant,” Lee took your shivering hand, looking at you as he brought the back of it to his lips, “I'm here, okay? I'm back. I'm holding you like this.”

He is. As you gazed at his face, the whims of today that brought cold demons do not sway so easily, your heart crumbling once more— the fear that gnawed you left and right back when you were at the foot of the impenetrable tower, helpless in front of bloodlusted monsters. The thought of earlier when blood spilled your hands came back to haunt you: an unprecedented future where Lee did not emerge from the tower, a grim call for humanity...what did it look like?

“Hearing you say that,” your voice cracked, a fresh wave of tears now threatening to spill from your tired eyes, “brings me so much comfort, Lee.”

How ironic. A few hours ago, you bravely put on your facade, welcoming Lee back when he emerged from the then-heteronomer tower. Your smile was bigger than all the countless turbulences you've faced, a plethora of hope that baptised the witnesses there. But with the silent ride home to Babylonia, Liv and the other healers now resting, all the other conscious and unconscious commandants and constructs, you couldn't help but break down now, an endless stream of worry, fear, and relief as a storm in your body. Silent sobs wreck through your body, but Lee— your Lee, yours— held you so tight.

“I'm sorry,” even in the gentlest tone, his apology only made you sob more, “I know I should have thought about it thoroughly, I should have planned it with you. But it was the only solution.”

He kissed your temple, his cold fingers interlacing with your shaky ones, “...to keep you alive.”

You should be happy; Lee is right. He's alive, everyone else is alive. The tower was now a purification one. Yet why, out of all the things you should be crying about, an unfathomable thought that crossed your mind— something about death, something about a dogtag drenched in the bluest vital fluid— made you cry more?

“Commandant [Y/N],” Lee calls your name, that it catches your attention, a skip in your heart, “You're so brave. I'm sorry that you went through so much. But right now, everything will be alright.”

As your sobs slow down, Lee leans closer to your face, a finger wiping away the stream of tears, his lips kissing them away. Wait. Have you ever been so intimate with Lee this way? It suddenly baffled you; sure, you were both aware of each other's affections, sneaking away to be with one another. The furthest thing you've both even gone to, was a simple kiss on the cheek in your bedroom, before Lee went away, claiming his cooling systems malfunctioned. The gravity of the situation made you snap out of your sadness.

“W-wait, Lee,” you weakly shimmied out of his embrace, “I-I thought you didn't want this-”

You vividly remember Lee hates public display of affection.

But right now, his expression was puzzled, as if confused with your reaction. “And?”

A timid blush creeps in your cheeks. Somehow, you were the one getting embarrassed.

“I thought you didn't want people to see this kind of,” you coughed, “...display.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I am just taking care of my Commandant. There's no other explanation.”

Ah, what a fickle mind you have. Embarrassed, you sunk deep into his arms, pouting as you hid your face in his chest. “Ah...sorry.”

Lee coughs, “But there is something I do want to talk to you about.”

Peering up at him, you cocked your head to the side, “The mission? Or...what happened earlier?”

He looked at you with a small smile, before a faint pink tint in his cheeks appeared. He tucked the blanket to your chest, before returning his fingers to the gaps in yours. “We will arrive in Babylonia soon. It may be a hellhole right now, but...your rest will be the priority.”

“Hey, what-”

“-Get some sleep for now, Commandant...”

Gentle cerulean eyes looked at you with an unfamiliar emotion. Was it really unfamiliar, or were you slowly succumbing to the lull of a well-needed sleep.

It felt like a dream. His touch, his voice, his gestures. Your mouth opens, trying to call out Lee's name. But the way his thumb caressed your intertwined hands, the safety of a cradle as he held you close, the faint smell of his scent—

You fall asleep by the time the aircraft docks at Babylonia's hangar.

You remember the day you realized you liked Lee.

It was a little crush that bothered you like a bunny, hopping around the corners when it saw food nearby. You tried to ignore it, favoring the quiet, tranquil field, your battlefield for the fight against the virus. Yet, the longer you lingered in the field, the more of that man in blue with a cold facade and steeled eyes seem to capture your attention, far longer than any lesson you took in the F.O.S.

“Do you have any wish?” You remember Lee's sudden, peculiar question one day, at the Gray Raven lounge.

You were both chilling there, across one another; you were by the table, doing your paperwork, and him on the sofa, polishing his weapon. The question was so out of the blue. A few weeks after your initial meeting, and he was still in his Palefire frame. In honesty, what was your greatest wish? You were merely a fresh graduate, finally with a team assigned to you. You've been through the simulations, memorized every nook and crook of the books, and can even recite the constitution and the laws. All of this for the sake of humanity.

“Retaking Earth, having a future of peace.” was a simple way to put it.

But Lee only had a cold expression on his face, despondent eyes looking at you with judgement. You recognized this look, one that he'd been wearing every time you were around. You admitted him, earlier, his frigidity nearly makes you wet your pants. But when the last word escaped your lips, the expression changed for a split second— relief?— before it returned to its hardened state.

“I'm not asking you to do a pep talk.”

You pondered once more. Sure, humanity is needed. But guess not for Lee. What did you want, really? Ah, you remember the parcel you ordered, and the many more that were to come. Your wallet had been growing slimmer, too. Smiling, a stupid, yet practical idea sauntered to your young mind.

“Retiring as early as possible to get my pension?”

A life of pure ecstasy and glory. It wasn't so bad. But that look on Lee's face seemed to insinuate that he'd probably kill you and stage it as something else.

“Can you just give me one that is actually achievable?”

Is retiring early too much? When you looked up to Lee for another witty remark, you found yourself frozen. What once were steeled eyes were a noticeable shade of indigo, complimenting the blue patterns on his outfit. A clenched jaw, soft skin, a remarkable face that seemed to know so many things at once. You've always known you had a little bit of admiration for your team, with the tasks assigned to you little by little. But did you ever have your heart skip a beat whenever Lucia or Liv was around? You remember fierce and timid eyes looking at you, but never this cold. No, only Lee.

Only Lee could do that.

What little crush became a massive infatuation.

“Then,” sheepishly smiling, you felt your cheeks tint in the lightest shade, yet you still looked at Lee, “your smile?”

The question caught him off guard. Taking advantage of the situation, you decided to tease him further, “I want to see you smile more, Lee.”

You've always wanted to see him smile. One that was genuine, not commanded, nor forced. For the first time since your first meeting, there was a crack in his expression, a thin shade of pink dusting his own cheeks; a seemingly thin facade that only motivated you to open the lock that was presented to you.

“W-what-”

“You will scare everyone off with that intimidating look on your face,” you smiled, “So, please?”

Before the next moment could happen, the memory goes dark, and you open your eyes.

Your senses are out of place, lost as you tried to regain everything. First, your sense of smell returns as the scent of vanilla fills the room. Next is your hearing, the white noise of the air conditioner overwhelms the empty space. The feel of your bones and muscles, albeit sore and tired, felt weightless as you tried to lift your arms and legs up. The soft grasp of cotton and the mattress. When your vision returns, the white ceiling is adorned with the many trinkets you could remember sticking onto the top, the feeling of home asking to be welcomed. The comforts of the bed seemed to beg you to stay more, but you forced your body to sit up, the familiar scene of your room at the Gray Raven base now into view.

Did you...fall asleep? What time is it? You didn't want another lifetime of scolding waiting for you outside of your door. Lucia and Liv could be in the training room. And Lee...

An ominous feeling rattled your body. When you look down at your hands, a silent scream on your lips as you jump from the bed— your hands are tainted with a mixture of blue vital fluids and the brightest red.

Nearly falling onto the floor, lucky enough that you landed on your mattress. You suddenly remember everything—

“Lee!”

You forget your dignity. You forget your bare feet, you forget everything else. You had to find Lee. You had to. Running out of the door, you bolted to find the blonde man, the fear that you were too late to save him.

But before you could reach the last door that held all the answers you were looking for, a tall, study cushion prevented you from doing so.

“...dant! Commandant!”

A familiar voice. Snapping out of your fear-stricken trance, you felt yourself being pushed off slightly. A pair of worried cerulean eyes looking down at you.

“Commandant, I'm here!” A baritone voice, ones that made your eyes blur from the tears, “I'm here. I'm back.”

A comforting hold over you. A towering figure. The presence that could only make you crumble. Your teammate. The one that filled your quiet days.

“You're,” you choked, the dam of tears that spilled senselessly, “Lee, you're alive.”

He sighed in relief. Looking at you with a small smile, he said, “...You must be confused. Let's eat before we talk.”

Sunnyside up egg and bacon, the other kind of egg being scrambled. Two plates, two pieces of toast. A coffee and a glass of milk. And you finished it all, your share with the sunnyside up. The other was close to finishing, with Lee still tinkering on the small robot that was on his side.

A part of you thinks rationally, as you shouldn't eat like a pig when in front of someone else. But you can't help but strive to satiate the hunger that was distracting you from doing anything else. Apart from that, the raging headache was now gone.

You noticed something different, though.

“Did you enjoy it, Commandant?”

You glanced at Lee, before looking back at your clean plate. You wanted to retort, but, you awkwardly laughed instead. “Thank you, I really enjoyed it, Lee.”

“You looked like you tasted something else though,” you raised your brow, before he added, “Your expression changed.”

“Ah,” you absentmindedly toyed with your fork, “...it tasted different. Did Liv cook this?”

A faint blush adorned his cheek. “I was the one who cooked the food. Liv did not participate at all.”

You blinked in surprise. Lee? Cooking?

“Really?” Bewildered, you reeled back, “It tasted so good. I want a second serving...”

You had nothing against Lee's skills. He followed all of the nitty gritty details of the cookbook he used, making the dish taste too bland or too dry. But the one you tasted seemed different.

“I can cook more for you then, Commandant,” Lee prepared to stand up, but you grabbed his arm.

“Later, later!” You beamed at him, “I'm quite surprised as it tasted...”

What were the right words? As his hand loosened on your grip, you blurted out, “Warm.”

“Did it now?” A teasing tone. You huffed out, which made him grin.

“I'm glad you think so. After all, you were asleep for two days.”

The events of before came rushing back, nearly overwhelming you. But Lee's hand in yours strengthened your resolve. There were still a few questions on your mind, like—

“I checked you up on the Star of Life.” Lee continued, “I couldn't leave you there, as they were still packed with all the other victims. They granted you to rest here, where we watched over you.”

“What about the other people with us at the surface?”

“They were treated as well, Commandant. Right now, they gave us a two-week rest, with everything trying to settle down and rebuilding whatever we can.”

You touched his hand, “What about...you?”

And he touched yours back. “I did, as soon as we had you here.”

“I see, thank you,” you looked down on the oversized shirt, before glancing at Lee's now reddening face.

“I- um, we helped you clean and dress up. Mostly Liv and Lucia.”

“Where are they now...?”

“They might be helping with the rebuilding. It's my turn to watch over you.”

You hummed, retreating your hand, a small sense of disappointment. A comforting, yet anxious silence enveloped the environment; you fiddled with your hands, trying to find the right words to say. But the longer you dwell, the more your anxiety grew.

“...I didn't think that my shirt would look good on you.”

Your feelings dissipated. You looked up, Lee looking away to hide his blush, “I wanted to give it to Murray, but I'm glad that I still had some left.”

“Th...thank you, Lee. It feels very comfortable.” It was normal, right? Wearing boyfriend shirts has been a trend lately. So why are you blushing like a tomato? Well, at least the two of you look like tomatoes.

“...I still have a few more,” Lee said, gathering the courage to look at you, “If you're not closed to the idea of having shirts like the one you are wearing now, then, let me know.”

The cloth did feel quite comfy, never mind how it rested above your knees. It also smelled like Lee— apple blossoms and summertime. You were hoping you could keep the shirt hidden, but you were glad you had his confirmation.

Another silence. At this point, you'd rather be swallowed by the ground whole than be stuck with the awkward air. As you thought about it, deeper in thought, you felt Lee's fingers reach for yours, index finger wrapped around your pinky. Looking up, Lee already had his eyes on you, cerulean eyes looking with the same unfamiliar emotion.

“Commandant,” Quietly, as if the glass in front of you would break, “...Are you scared?”

“No,” you shook your head, sighing, “I was only worried. I thought...”

“So, you are.” Tenderly, he brought your hand closer to his face, “I feel that I can't apologize enough.”

“No, no, Lee,” What were you doing? Your vision nearly blurs, guilt clawing at the back of your throat, that your voice feels so small, “It's okay, it really is...”

“You told me yourself that you'd allow me to share all my burdens,” Gently, he kisses your fingers one by one, his eyes closed, “That we're doing this together until the end. You and I— you are no exception.”

Lee doesn't leave any finger unkissed, warm lips on your fingertips, before he trailed his kisses to the side of your hand, to the pulse on your wrist. Ah, he knows. He knew about the flash of blood on your hands, the haunting memory between the both of you. The first drop of your tears escaped. Then another. Until it became an endless stream, running down your face.

“I'm sorry, Commandant, for scaring you.” He opened his eyes, revealing glossy ones, mirroring your sad expression, “But I assure you; I am here, I'm sitting with you, I'm next to you now.”

Two of his hands are now on your wrist, hovering over his jaw, words brewing at the tip of his tongue. Does he know about your hammering heartbeat? How this very gesture, so intimate, so real— there are words far beyond comprehension, beyond verbal communication, that wishes to be said. But all it took was the way he looked at you, your hands on his. He pulls you closer, eased comfortably in his awaiting lap.

“In the tower,” he admitted, “The frame knows something, and I can't tell Asimov unless I tell you first.”

“What do you mean?”

His fingers are now on your cheek, wiping away all of your tears, looking at you with such sincerity, it nearly breaks your heart, “I saw the future.”

It made you freeze. The future? It didn't seem true. But you trusted Lee, and you would safeguard everything he said to protect him.

“Like...you saw it happen?”

He nods, “I do. I can even go back into the past. I used to remember it all so clearly, but...”

A twinge of dread sinks in your stomach, whispering, “you can't anymore?”

“...In the end, I can still remember the worst that happened.”

Lee's free hand cups your cheek, and you only noticed it now, the vibrant color of his cerulean eyes, reflected so bright. “I lost you in all of them.”

It hits you faster— you weren't the only one who suffered. Lee, your Lee, battled his own demons inside of the tower. It made your stomach sink, your heartbeat wild in your chest. Your Lee, who had always been so calculating and ahead of everything, had the fear that you also had.

The vivid thought of your hand wrapped around a bloodied dogtag washes over you. But you tried to push it away from your mind, opting to cup Lee's cheeks.

“Lee,” words die on your throat, “I'm...”

“That's why I need to tell you this, Commandant,” he inhaled deeply, that a shiver ran down your spine—

Was he going to ask to step down? To leave Gray Raven, to leave...you?

His face was dangerously close to yours now, your breathing tangled with yours, your warmth clinging to his skin, “I never want to be away from you again, Commandant.”

You held your breath. In the heat of the afternoon haze, Lee's arms are on your waist, the other on your cheek; you, on his lap, holding his face. All of the thousand words, unsaid during the ride home, poured in like a fountain. His thumb wipes away the last tear from your eyes, mouth curling into a smile.

“I may not hold what lies in the future, or how long until our end will arrive, but right now, I will not hesitate to spend all of our precious time together. I want to protect you. I will do everything I can to keep on saving you, even if I have to give my life.”

He drives the final nail onto his words, “I like you. I like you far too much, that if I don't see you anymore, then I will never know what to do.”

A confession. Lee was never this honest or upfront. It rattled you to the core, that a simple event made him change like this. Honest, upfront, intimate. But you only shook your head, the hold over him tightened.

“No,” you breathed out, “I can't lose you like that, Lee. I never want to lose you.”

“Save me all you want, but you know that I'll do the same,” you muttered, leaning to press your lips onto his cheeks, “But I won't only die for you. I will live for you.”

“I-”

“I like you, too, Lee. I like you that I would rather watch the world burn than to see you gone from me.”

In this very small space, you could hear his heartbeat echo alongside yours. His grip on your waist tightens, and you are leaving kisses on his face. There is a feeling that bubbles inside of you. You wanted to call him that word— something you've been craving to say that it aches too much in your mouth, asking to be confessed. But you already know that neither of you are ready to say it, nor accept it.

“Commandant-”

“Say my name, Lee,” your voice breaks, as your hands itch to wrap them around Lee, too touch-starved to care if this kind of intimacy breaks both of your boundaries, “I want to hear you say it.”

“[Y/N],” Lee's voice said your name so softly, that your heart flutters, “[Y/N],”

You've only heard Lee call your name with your title. But now, in the heat of this moment, as he calls your name, you never wanted anything more than to kiss him. Already leaning to close the missing gap, but you hesitate. You were really going to break all of the other boundaries you've both set for one another. So you lean away, slightly disappointed.

“[Y/N]?”

“I'm sorry, Lee.” A small pout on your lips, “I really...want to kiss you.”

“...I do, too.” You notice the pink in his cheeks grew darker, “...I want to kiss you. I want to do many things with you, [Y/N].”

Ah, a clear sign. One that makes your heart erupt with joy, one that made the grin on your face uncontrollable.

“Then, kiss me, Lee,” you said, cupping his cheeks, “I want you to kiss me.”

And he does. Your arms are wrapped on his shoulders, his lips on your waist. Closing the aching gap, that your bodies are pressed onto each other, it reminds you of the collision of stars— merging into one. Kissing Lee for the first time is soft, gentle, with a hint of neediness and satisfaction. One where the longer you've kissed, breaking away only to find a string of saliva on your lips, an unbearable need to kiss each other once more, that it deepens.

It distracts you, however— his hands tease along your bare thighs, fingers lightly tapping on your skin. You only move closer, his hands finding themselves wrapped on the back of your thighs.

“Lee,” you whispered, pulling away to find a string of saliva as you catch your breath, “can you touch me more, please? I want to know if this is real.”

“This is real,” he affirms, guiding your legs to wrap themselves on his hips, “...And I am touching you right now.”

He wastes no time kissing you again, one hand on your cheek, the other caressing your hips. Your hands, however putty, start to pull on his own clothes, finding where his buttons could be. Lee must have noticed it, when you breathe for air, he chuckles.

“Hyperreal isn't like my Entropy or Palefire, [Y/N]. Seems like I'll be the one taking them off, as you don't know where.”

“Such a tease,” you pout, “You should have asked Asimov to put some buttons or zipper somewhere to easily take off your clothes.”

“Well,” Lee coughs, “I honestly did not think that I would be making out with my Commandant in the future.”

It made you laugh loudly, fingers grazing his chin, “Cute. Well, I guess your prophecy skills are a bit too rusty, hm?”

“Mm,” Lee leans to brush his nose on the side of your face, “I did not forsee that an attractive girl like you would be on my lap right now, being so receptive and kind to me.”

The statement made you blush. “Cut it, and I thought you were the one who gets flustered easily.”

“Th-” Lee pulls away, revealing his adorable pout, paired with the raging blush on his cheeks, made you want to remember this sight forever, “That's because there is something wrong with my cooling system.”

“Even now on your new frame?”

He sighs. “I'm starting to think that it's not because of the cooling system...”

“Oh, you admit it now?”

“...Yeah,” he takes a strand of your hair in between his fingers, twiddling, “I think it's because of you, [Y/N].”

“Why is it my fault now?”

“You...” Lee pauses, before looking at you, “...you make me think of things to the point of overthinking. You keep overriding my logic, always skewing my predicted data.”

“I'm sorry?” Awkwardly applogizing, but Lee only laughs.

“Do you know what you're doing to me, [Y/N]?”

“Mm, no,” your hands play with Lee's hair, behind his ear, “Pray tell?”

“You skewer with the data because...you create scenarios in my M.I.N.D. You drive me insane to the point that I have to investigate the data, correct it again, so that it won't interfere with mine.”

“What kind of data tampering do I do, Lee?” You were teasing at this point, Lee's ears turning red, “Explain it more.”

“You...” He wanted to throw a retort, but your teasing is relentless, that he only looks deep in your eyes, “You make me think of things that I want to do with you, that only lovers do.”

There you go. Your stomach flutters at the thought that you both shared the same sentiments.

“What kind, Lee?” You dropped your voice into a whisper, leaning to his ear, “Can you show me?”

“No, I-”

“-Don't hold back on me. That's an order.”

Under the light of the dining room, Lee's cerulean eyes turn into a darker shade, a low growl on his throat. Not a moment later, he hoists you by your ass and carries you onto the table, large hands touching your bare thighs. His face was still dangerously close to yours, lips touching, but not enough to leave a kiss.

“I'm not sure if I can please you enough,” he whispered, “But God, I want to touch you, [Y/N].”

The desperation in his voice. The slight shaking in his hands. Eager lips waiting to kiss you over and over— what a perfect concoction to appease the growing greed that was brewing down there. You decided to close the gap, hoping it was enough to answer the question Lee asked.

“Touch me more, Lee,” you whined when you pulled away slightly, hands all over his chest, “I want you. I need you so much.”

Lee doesn't waste any time. He kisses you once more, before carrying you once more in his arms. You leave it up to him, as he carries you back to your room, albeit clumsily as you feel yourself gently be squished in between the walls as he fumbles with the direction. But you don't mind, not when the kiss becomes fervent enough, tongue dipping to taste Lee's, to taste where you could reach. Your whines grow louder when you feel yourself lowered onto the soft surface— the bed— and the click of the door shut.

When you opened your eyes, Lee was already in the middle of taking off his upper clothes, revealing bionic skin in his shade, a glowing mark in the middle of his chest. Nevermind the way his arms looked, but the sight as he slowly undressed himself was enough to make your mouth (and probably your private area) water.

“Do you like the view?” Lee teases. Mindlessly, you nodded.

“Pretty...” you dawdled, admiring the glowing mark on his chest, “you're so pretty, Lee...”

“You should see yourself, [Y/N].”

Grasping to touch yourself, you realized that the shirt you were wearing was already raised to your tummy, revealing your panties. You didn't know what you looked like, really. But you trust Lee.

“I can't,” you smugly smiled, “Mind telling me what I look like now, Lee?”

As soon as he was finished in taking off his upper clothing, he leaned down, caging you in between his buff body. “Beautiful,” he said, thumb caressing your lips, “You look so delectable.”

Kissing you once more. Heat settles in between your pressed bodies, incessant hands reaching where they could. Gently, Lee's lips kissed your jaw, trailing to your ear. Softly, slow hands fiddling with the hem of his— now yours— shirt, teasing by the dip of your stomach. Butterfly kisses along your neck, nibbling so little, in a place where only Lee can see. A primal need gnawed at your heart; perhaps Lee's mark could be enough to satiate the need, right?

You craned your neck to him, muttering, “More, please.”

Hesitation sits where his lips were, short breaths fanning it. “Are you...are you sure?”

“Please,” your pleas somehow sound like a breathless moan, “We have two weeks to be here, right?”

You didn't see what his expression looked like, but he seemed convinced, teeth grazing on one particular spot that made you moan. And Lee devilishly nibbles on it.

“As you wish then, Commandant.”

Ah, the title again. You wanted to answer back, but Lee seemed to know where your weak spots were, with you writhing from pleasure. After the assault on your neck, his trail of kisses paused as he lifted off your shirt, revealing your breasts in their naked glory. Shimmying out of the shirt, you felt embarrassed already, covering yourself, in nothing but your underwear.

But Lee only held your hips, “Let me see you, [Y/N].”

“I-I don't think I have the best body, y'know,” you admitted, looking away, “It might not be perfect.”

Lee doesn't say a word. Taking your hands, he looks at you, before bringing it to his lips.

“[Y/N], look at me,” you do, mouth shut, “Tell me what you think of these hands?”

“Um,” you ponder for a moment, “For patting you?”

He smiles a bit, before kissing the back of your hands. “They can be used like that. But these are gentle hands, ones that use weapons to protect her comrades.”

He begins to trail kisses again, on your arms, to your shoulders, to your neck. You softly moaned as he kissed the side of your head, hearing him say, “Your arms are strong enough to carry your teammates, shouldering your strength that helps those you've always wanted to reach.”

“You're incredible, [Y/N],” he purred, kissing your clavicle, kissing you all the way, in between the valley of your breasts, “You are so beautiful, so powerful.”

Kissing and kissing your breasts, fondling them with care. You cry out his name from the sensitivity, the fluttering feelings all around you. He doesn't break eye contact as he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking it, and playing with the other.

Your mouth is a chorus, now— babbles of "Lee, Lee", "more, please", that the way he caged you perfectly in between his legs, you couldn't help but drown in the way he's holding you.

A while later, his lips travel to your stomach, your waist, a teasing little kiss on your hips— hoisting your legs up to his broad shoulders. He looks at you, as if asking you to not look away.

“[Y/N],” his voice sounds so sultry, mesmerizing you, “You may think that you're not perfect, but to me, you've always been so...holy, divine.”

Lee pressed a kiss to your ankles, to your legs, your knees, “I could worship you forever like this,” a few more kisses on the back of your legs- “I'll do this just so you know how much I adore you.”

How intimate, how devoted your Lee was— with your legs so close to his chest, you could feel his heartbeat thrumming. It was beating so loud like yours, a perfect mirror that rumbled in every part of your body, pulsating with so much want and need, that it made you want to pull him closer.

“Lee,” you moaned, feeling his lips slowly kiss your knees, trailing to the inside of your thighs, “Lee,”

“I'm right here,” He pressed a kiss to your weeping, clothed cunt, sending a jolt throughout your body, “Let me hear you more, my [Y/N]. Don't cover your mouth.”

You don't. Not when he sucks your clothed cunt with such vigor, your back arching for him. Your hands find themselves seeking respite in his hair, as he pulls down your soaked underwear, agonizingly slow. Wiggling out of it, you peered down to look at Lee, nearly drooling at the way your pussy was displayed all for him. You felt yourself dripping with want.

“God,” Lee groaned, a mix of a breathless moan and sigh, his fingers experimentally rubbing your labia, “You're even so beautiful down here, my [Y/N].”

You moaned at his words, hole clenching around nothing. You've touched yourself down there on fairly lonely nights, wishing it was Lee's hands instead of your own. But right now, as he rubs your slit with your slick, how lewdly your own mouth betrayed you, you may as well wish those lonely nights won't return, as the real thing was far better than your imagination.

“Lee, stop teasing,” you whined, “Touch me more.”

“I am already doing that,” he said, “Do you not feel it?”

“Well, honestly, with the way you're- nngh-”

He licked a long stripe on your slit, causing you to moan out loud. Hearing your reaction, Lee licks the same spot once more, making you twitch. But his hands are faster, holding your hips.

“Delectable,” He said, licking his lips, “I want to taste more.”

His lips latch onto your peeking clit, lapping at you like a starved man. It's messy, yet so hot— fingers prodding your hole, Lee's mouth on your needy pussy. You've lost all common sense at this point, fingers grasping tightly on his hair, babbling senselessly for Lee, tears crying as he works you out of your climax. You badly wish it wasn't a dream; your fingers could no longer do justice to the way Lee was taking you right now. It doesn't take any longer, though— you tried to warn Lee, but you came so unexpectedly, squirting uncontrollably with a loud cry of Lee's name.

You tread the wonders of your high, shaking with ultimate pleasure, as Lee dutifully coaxed out your juices, licking you clean. When you've come down, you've noticed Lee hovering above you, cerulean eyes still clouded with lust, yet with appreciation.

“That's it,” he cooed, fingers brushing away the hair that covered your face, “you're so amazing, my [Y/N].”

You moaned as he leaned down to kiss you, hands wrapped to cradle you, and you could taste yourself, cum and slick, on his lips. But you never minded that— let alone how hot it felt.

“Do you still want to do this?” Lee asked, looking at you with concern, “We can call it a day when you're overwhelmed.”

“No,” you said, pulling him closer, “We're past the point of no return. Besides...”

Placing a hand on his cheek, to which he leaned, you spoke, “I want you to be my first, Lee.”

He freezes. Looking up, he muttered, “A-are you sure? I don't want you to regret it.”

“I will never mind if it's you.” You smiled, “If anything, I want to give it all to you. I...adore you far too much. You'll only make my wishes come true.”

Lee thought for a moment, before looking back at you. “We're the same, then.”

Swiftly taking off his boxers, Lee's cock stands tall and proud, bouncing off to his stomach. You marveled at the sight, mouth-watering once more. You reached out to wrap your hands around the shaft, causing Lee to moan.

“Pretty,” you massaged the shaft, smearing the tip that had his pre-cum, “you're so big, too.”

Tall and long, and you feared he'd be too big to fit inside of you. It was veiny, with the fat mushroom tip with a lot of pre-cum. You wanted to put him in your mouth to return the favor, but with your cunt crying out loud of his cock, you wanted nothing more but to ask him to bury himself inside of you.

Lee looked like he could cum from your touch alone. But he doesn't want to— no, he had to be inside of you. He swallows his moans down, but the longer you jerk him, whiny groans and whimpering began to overwhelm him.

“Let me- hah,” Lee steals one last kiss on your cheek, before preparing to align himself to take your maidenhead, “I want you, [Y/N].”

“And I need you, Lee.” You cupped his cheek, whining as you felt his tip catch your clit, cock rubbing your drenched pussy, “I need you inside of me.”

Lee helps himself, guiding his cock in. You moaned out loud as you felt the tip prod your quivering hole, hands tightly grabbing onto his shoulders. Lee immediately holds your hips, a few shallow thrusts to help you accommodate his size. Your mouth slips out moans, eyes rolling back as half of his cock is already inside of you. But God, did you already feel so full, brushing a soft spot inside of you.

“[Y/N],” Lee stutters, heavily sigh that became a moan, “You feel so t-tight, hah,”

“Lee,” you cried out as he thrusted shallowly, weakly pulling his arm, “you're so big...”

“Shh, I'm sorry, I'm almost there,” he cooed, kissing the corner of your lips, “A little bit more.”

You scream his name as Lee finally bottoms out, triggering your second orgasm. Lee could only moan as he grasped your hips, groaning at the way you tightened, squeezing him without mercy. But he still rubs your hips, easing you back to reality.

“Fuck,” Blurring out, but hearing him curse, made you involuntarily clench around him, “You're not only tight, but you're nearly killing me here.”

“S-sorry,”

Lee only thrusts into you as an answer. Squeaking from the sensitivity, you tried to reason out, but failed as Lee chuckled.

“It's not your fault, [Y/N]. I guess it means I'm good, hm?”

Bastard. Still so cocky. You pouted, “You are mean.”

“And you're so pretty.”

Lee resumed thrusting in and out of you, the recoil making your breasts bounce. One hand holds your hips, the other on your hand, taking them to his lips. As pleasure starts to build despite your sensitivity, you somehow recognize the gravity of the situation: Lee's smell, your nearly-fucked out senses, the creak of your bed, and the way he was still making love to you, your virginities now given to each other. Lee fucks into you just right, the cock hitting all of the spots that made you babble. Everything was overwhelmingly good, that you arched off of the bed, his cock hitting inside of you deeper.

“Lee,” you cried out, “Lee, God,”

“I'm here,” he leaned to you, “I'm here.”

You never wanted this moment to end. You forget your responsibilities, you forget the war— even just for a moment, everything was perfect for the both of you. As Lee settles your legs in his shoulders, the intense feeling is knotting at the bottom of your stomach, waiting to snap.

“[Y/N],” Lee cooed, “Are you going to come?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, “I wanna come with you-”

“I'm almost there,” as if adhering to your needs, Lee slips his fingers to your clit, rubbing it, “You can do it.”

Your climax really is coming, alongside Lee's. But before the knot snaps, you realize that Lee is still speaking.

“[Y/N],” in between moans and your whining, Lee gripped your hands, cerulean eyes glimmering. “My [Y/N]-”

“-I love you.”

You teetered so close to the edge that you couldn't process his words. But it was enough to reach your climax. Writhing, you felt yourself be filled with something down there, you and Lee moaning each other's names. He rests his head in between your shoulders. And you were perfectly content with the weight on top of you.

It takes you a few moments to process it. In between catching breaths, his hair in your fingers, your other hand fiddling with his own, the message seems clear.

“Are you okay?” Lee asked as soon as he was back on top of you, still sheathed inside of you, “Did I hurt you?”

“No...” Your eyes must be glimmering like his, as your tears began to blur your vision, “What a charming man you are, Lee.”

Lee understood, but he still feigned ignorance. “Hm? How so.”

Pressing your hands flat on his chest, you felt his heartbeat, slowing down to a normal one, and it made you wish that you could stay like that forever.

“I love you, too, Lee.” These were words you've longed to say after all. “I will always love you.”

Lee only smiled, cheeks tinted in the bright shade of pink, “...I'm glad you heard that, then, my [Y/N].”

How funny that the ride home seemed silent. But the words were far better spoken out loud in the end.

BONUS:

“Lee! Commandant! We're back!”

The sound of the door opening at the Gray Raven lounge reverberates. Two figures emerge inside, carrying a bag full of ingredients.

“Lee?” Liv asked, looking around, “Where is he?”

“It's unlike him to leave so abruptly.” Lucia shrugged, “Let's check on the Commandant.”

Leaving the bag on the table, Liv and Lucia trotted to the Commadant's room, finding two figures sleeping next to each other.

“Oh,” Lucia whispered, beckoning Liv to be silent, “They're here. Lee's sleeping next to the Commandant.”

“I see...” Liv looks around to find clothes all over the floor. “Did someone break in? Why is the floor messy?”

“I don't know. Lee was probably trying to dress the Commandant.”

“I noticed the plates were also unwashed. Did the Commandant already wake up?”

“We'll just ask later when Lee's awake.”

When the door of the Commandant's room finally closed, a loud slap could be heard.

“Ow, [Y/N]-”

“I am never going to go out of this room.” You sighed in embarrassment, remembering that the hickies on your neck are very visible, and you're probably aware that you couldn't walk. “I'm screwed.”

“We just did.”

“Lee!”

— starry

#pgr #punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven imagines #pgr commandant #pgr global #pgr lee #pgr hyperreal #lee brainrot because I HAVE HIMMMM

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