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hollyhomburg · 1 month

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Before I Leave You (pt.68)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your time is running out. minute by minute, breath by breath, kiss by kiss.

Tags: Angst, Hurt (no comfort yet), illusions to past mental health issues and past domestic abuse, mentions of low-self-esteem, internalized shame and self-shaming behaviors, themes of abandonment, speeding, guns, violence,

W/c: 13.4k

A/N: ahhhhh so here we are! i've been dreaming of this chapter since the very beginning of the series! this is like...the ultimate chapter...thank you for giving me a little bit of extra time to sit with it! we've still got a bit to go! there is a little section near the end where the chapter will prompt you to click on a link to play kate bush 😂 if you feel like you'll be distracted by music in the background you don't need to push it- thats just the song that i always heard playing in my head whenever i heard that part playing.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Hobi is sitting on the edge of the nest sipping at his ice water when you come back into the nest room. Someone has drawn all of the heavy curtains over the windows and they pool on the floor at the rim of the room. The plastic pulled up too. The evidence folded and put away for later burning. Like a bad memory or a piece of clothing that doesn't fit right. Shoved in the back of the closet.

The rage and fear and panic are harder to put away. The conviction is not so easy to hide. You can’t put it down the same way that people file their taxes or their children's old scribbles.

You- like a child, have not been able to color between the lines. You- like a child, are messy.

You can’t stop yourself from walking over to him. Drawn to him where he sits nursing his injuries like a moth to a flame. You feel every heartbeat spent in his presence; every breath shared sticky like smoke in your lungs. Every second is savored and every second burns.

You want to ask him if he’s alright, but questions like that seem very pointless now.

Hobi’s not alright- but he will be. He will be okay forever if you do what you have to do. Now that you’ve decided it’s all you can think about. You rarely ever get to know that your last day with someone will be your last day, and now because you know- you look at him a little harder. A little longer.

You wonder what he’ll look like in 10 years and in 20. If he’ll get crow’s feet from smiling so much. If the salt water he loves so much will eventually grow into his features and make him look like something ancient.

You wonder if one day he'll get so many freckles that the tops of his shoulders will be permanently a shade deeper than the rest of his skin- Or if Seokjin’s sunscreen will spare him from the simple pleasure of looking like your favorite thing. Hoseok has always been one part sunshine one part everything else.

He looks pale right now. It hasn't been summer in months and you won't get to see him get all freckly and sun-kissed again.

Growing old is a privilege (you don’t want to grow old) and you’re reminded of that every time you look at his throat and see the bruises there (you wish you and Hobi could stay as you are- like this, in this house- both alive and healing- forever) but you can’t.

You can’t.

You touch his shoulder softly and his head jerks up, body going tense and then slack when he sees it's just you.

It’s quiet up here. The others are just downstairs and they’re making a lot of noise. Hoseok turns, setting his glass of water down on the floor, leaning into your hand in the same movement. It would be cute if he didn’t have black bruises crisscrossing his throat and blood in the whites of his eyes. In truth, every blink only convinces you that this is what you have to do. This is what you need to do.

You know that at any moment the pack is going to come looking for you. That they’ll all come and fill the room with their soothing noises and sweet concern. You're not too worried about finding the right time to slip away. Moonbyul’s given you 24 hours after all.

We didn’t get enough time, did we? I’d have liked more.

Hobi tries to speak and you shush him, he makes a frustrated hum of a noise. You sit down next to him when he tugs you, hand vicelike on your wrist. Your heart is beating really fast. You wonder if he can hear it or at least smell your distress. The whole house is a tangle of distressed scents; your rain, Yoongi’s ocean, Hoseok’s burnt caramel. burning burning burning. It disguises your scent. Hoseok can’t smell how you’re panicking.

You smile at him, and Hobi tries to speak again. unsuccessfully.

“Here your phone-” but Hoseok doesn’t reach for it, he doesn’t reach for anything but you. Pulling you closer to him. His thumb pressed to the pulse point of your wrist, where your skin becomes thin and sensitive. Pulling you until your thigh lines up against his.

The nest up here is the only place in the house that smells somewhat normal, still soaked with your sleepy muted scents from a few days ago (How long will it be until your scent fades from the house?) You take a deep shaky breath, trying to savor it. Hoseok bites his lower lip.

Hoseok starts on your thigh. His hand squeezes it once and then he starts to write. It’s slow going. He can only write one letter at a time but-

“D-O-N-T”

His eyes are positively boring into yours as your breath hitches and you start. “Hobi I-” he repeats it again, writing it out faster. You grab his hand squeezing it. But he pulls it out of your grasp.

“N-O”

You huff, frustrated and close to tears but stealing yourself not to show him your true feelings. How hard this is. You duck in low, kissing over one of the bruises on his neck. He jerks back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. And part of you is just begging him to let it go. You’re half sitting in his lap now all so that he can write out his distress on both your thighs.

“Alright- just stop.” You can hear the rest of the pack on the stairs. It’s getting late, they’ve done all of the cleaning they can manage for today. You can hear Yoongi on the stairway talking to Jin:

“Maybe we should just burn the railing, there’s definitely a bullet or two in it still.”

Jin’s reply is near hissed, utterly scandalized in the way that only Jin can sound. “It is mahogany Yoongi.”

Hobi writes on your thigh, a single tear trailing down his nose. He’s usually a little bit better at keeping himself together but the stress of the day wore him through. Polished all of his usually stubborn edges like the ocean polishes sea glass. He’s too tired to properly argue. Letter by letter as he goes.

“P-R-O-M-I-S-E M-E,” he writes across your thigh.

You have maybe a second before they’re upon you. You have to be convincing. Have to, or else Hobi might tell. You don’t think he’ll get in your way. You don’t want to think about what you’ll have to do if he does.

You dart forward, pressing your lips to his in a way that you don’t really feel, in a way that has him pushing you a little off of him. Trying to reassure him in the only way you know how.

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying and he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. His fingertips skimming soft across your jaw and your lips. Pressing at the corner of your sad smile like he can peel the fake expression away from your face and have you tell the truth for once.

“I promise, okay? I promise.”

Hoseok is not convinced. He doesn’t believe you all the way. But the pack is up here before he has a chance to write out anything more. Yoongi appears in the doorway, smelling of soap and bleach, a bit of it turning the corner of his shirt yellow where it should be black. His eyes cautious but so loving it takes your breath away a little. He treads softly over to the two of you; like he's worried about spooking you.

The moment between you and Hobi passes when Yoongi's hand curls over the back of your neck and you tilt your face up at him. And he interprets the glassiness there as something else. something more sensitive and more like omegaspace than what it is. you falling through space and time, you dying and drowning infront of him.

He probably thinks Hoseok was just comforting you.

Yoongi’s hand settles softly on the ball of Hoseok’s shoulder too. an equally as tender touch. Long fingers splaying against his collar bones, cradling a bruise there forming. Asking softly, eyes all dark with the anguish and apology of it-

“Do you think either of you can stomach dinner?”

As always, you say you can hot because you want to, but because you know it will make him happy to see you eat. You might not get many more opportunities to make Yoongi happy- you should take this one and savor it.

Yoongi loses that vaguely wounded look in his eyes with every bite you lift to your mouth. His scent sublimating into something sweeter as the night darkens and quiets.

You can tell Hoseok is not convinced of your promises when he stays glued to your side through the whole of dinner. Almost stubborn with how he resists Yoongi’s prodding and Namjoon's. Changing out the cool dressings on his throat and shaking his head at Namjoon’s suggestion that he sleep propped up against the back wall of the nest, where it’s safest. Eyes tracking your movements as you get up and brush your teeth.

His focus remains solely on you, even when Jungkook carries Tae out of the bathroom and places her among the softest things in the nest. When Noodle squirms his way out from under the bed and tries to worm himself in between his legs. Nudging under his elbow with his pink nose.

He wraps himself around you as you get ready for bed. An arm slung protectively around your waist to pull you flush against his front where you couldn’t squirm away without him feeling it and waking up.

It feels like buying time even though you're too distracted to properly enjoy it- the way they try to cheer you up. Everything that they do to try and make things better feels far away like a photograph- a memory just out of reach- the colors a little off.

Jungkook needily wraps himself around Tae and croons soft reassurance into her ear about how pretty her hair looks, how soft her pajamas make her. And would she like some of her skincare routine? Jungkook will do it for her, will pat it across her cheeks, and won't drag it under her eyes to preserve the state of her wrinkles.

Tae answers all his requests with a simple shake of her head. Eyes still frighteningly blank, that 1000-yard stare that you've all seen on your faces at one point or another, that you see in the reflective surface of Namjoon's phone in the nest, discarded and not charged.

Tae's scent is something awful- none of her usual roses and all cinnamon. Does Tae smell more like her old self because that version of her was always afraid? Or was being a boy the first thing she hated and that's why she smells like boy tae now?

You hate it. You can tell the others hate it too. Yoongi drags her close to scent her silly. cheek and neck going all pink from how hard he scents her, and then scents you, and then goes back again.

Jungkook can do little more than cuddle Tae with Jimin, his big hands smooth down her thighs, while Jimin brushes her hair gently- careful not to let the bristles brush her scalp. He's learned how to take care of her over the last few months and he's the gentlest when it comes to detangling. Not like you- who's so used to ripping through your hair without thought.

Up and down their hands go as Jin fluffs the nest around you all. Making the edges of it higher, and more protective of the fragile pups at the center (like fluffy duvets could ever block bullets. In his dreams- Jin’s love is enough to keep you all safe).

Yoongi and Namjoon are only too happy to oblige him with the nest-making and the general fussing. But in between Jin’s request for a hairdryer and another cold cloth for your hands. You catch them watching the door like they half expect some new threat to appear.

Certain things are harder to ignore; like Yoongi sitting on the edge of the nest with a gun balanced across his thigh. Or the heavy thud of a fresh box of bullets, rattling in their acrylic case when Jimin sets them down on the floor. The red shotgun casings lined up in pretty lines- just like Tae’s lipsticks downstairs.

You ask for one of Hobi's sweatshirts and Yoongi puts the gun away to go and give it to you. Hoseok fingers the edge of your shirt stroking over the meat of your hip idly. But every inch of him is taught like he’s going to have to grab you and hold you down. You lace your hand with his and turn to give him a look.

Yoongi’s back with a sweatshirt but it’s Jin who demands to dress you- to guide your fragile and freshly wrapped hands through the holes. Jin pulls it down around your hips with a soft huff before he gets distracted looking at the bruises on your back and side. From getting thrown back into the wall and from an errant elbow. Every time you twist even a little bit- they ache.

A tub of soothing cream that the pack usually uses for the more wanted kind of bruises sits open on the edge of the nest.

The pack moves about in pairs, here and there. Going down to the ground floor in sets of two. Unwilling to let anyone out of sight. There are guns everywhere, Jimin must have let loose his hidden stash of them. A shotgun leans up against the bathroom door. A handgun with an extended stock is always close at hand. There's a larger plan lingering here. You hear it in Jin's soft reassurances. Said hushed over your heads.

"Witness protection isn't as bad as you think it is Yoongi-"

"It won't work- don't you think we know how it works? That won't be safe enough."

"We have at least a few hours, we don't need to make any decisions now."

Jungkook’s scared voice, “Are we really going to have the leave? The house and everything?” A pause. A look is shared between Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi. Jimin's eyes remain focused on Tae.

“Maybe bunny, we have to wait and see.”

“Do we have a carrying case for Noodle?”

“I think it’s in…” Yoongi trails off, but Namjoon answers for him.

“Yeah, it’s in the basement.”

They set about keeping watch for the night. those of you that aren't nursing wounds that is- mainly Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon- Guns remain at the ready and loaded. Jimin will go first, Yoongi second, and Namjoon last.

Jin tries but Namjoon nudges at his chest and growls in a way that has all of your ears perking up. The pack alpha’s commands can’t easily be ignored. Jungkook tries too to convince them too but even Hoseok shakes his head at him. No one is under any illusions of how fragile this peace is.

No one asks Namjoon to leave the Christmas lights on- but he doesn’t shut them off all the way- leaving just one string lit as a bit of a nightlight. None of you are quite brave enough to risk the darkness.

Hoseok stays close by, his hand clutching your wrist more often than not. Even when the pack settles in for sleep. He wraps his arm around your waist and settles in behind you, caging you in.

(Hoseok’s arms are not the prettiest cage you’ve ever been in but they are the cage you’ve liked the most. You think you’ll miss his arms and his hands. They’re so pretty and long, you lean down and kiss one where it’s gripping the nest and he makes a small noise in surprise that quickly gets swallowed by the hungry quiet.)

The quiet is very hungry, every brush of fabric against skin, every slight movement of the pack sets you a bit on edge. You think it will be hard to sleep- wound up as you are.

You don’t think you're even tired until your head hits the pillow and you have to struggle to stay awake. You want to stay up and listen to the sound of your pack, their soft and measured breathing, the sound of kisses shared above your head, the feel and safety of being in the nest. You want to commit the rhythm of them to memory.

Hoseok’s soft rasping breath on the nape of your neck evens out the more that his swelling goes down. It goes from hissing to more of a squeak as the night settles. Tae shakes through her aforementioned panic attack with all of you piled around her. You get your hand on her ankle at least.

Yoongi and Jimin’s shushing is the only punctuating sound in the half-light. Because what can you say besides sweet nothings when you know she has a perfectly valid reason to fear falling asleep?

You savor every little twitch of their trauma-worn bodies as you flit in and out of an uneasy sleep. Every slight sigh and hand on you rousing you. Jungkook, brushing his fingers through your hair. Hobi, pressed along your back like a second skin shifting and trying to tilt his neck to a more comfortable angle.

You get too hot with Hobi wrapped around you like that, eventually tugging at his sweatshirt that you wear and almost purring when kind gentle hands help detangle you from it with a soothing little shush sound so that you hardly have to wake. Yoongi, around midnight.

Yoongi’s thin but strong fingers rub a soothing touch along your jaw. Soothing away a small sad noise you make that has him curling around your front. The sound of Namjoon's low voice as he says something to your mate and then takes his place at the helm of the nest to stand guard.

“It’s okay pup, I’m here- I’m not going to let anything happen to you- not now- not ever.”

It’s unfortunate, but Namjoon can’t let Tae sleep for more than half an hour before checking her pupillary responses, making sure that her brain isn’t swelling. Concussions are no joke and Namjoon does not take chances with his prettiest alpha. He sends her back off to dreamland with a comforting scent mark and a soothing grumble. After the 5th hour when the risks turn nominal, he decides to just let her sleep.

But Hoseok doesn’t sleep, he can’t really. The pain keeps him awake and what with the way that his neck is injured he can’t find a comfortable position. He shifts and settles the whole night. Keeping you close with that arm around your waist every time you squirm so much as an inch away.

He’s restless until Namjoon gets up to get one of Jimin’s painkillers.

He’s resistant even then, half asleep still fighting. Trying to move away and shaking his head at Namjoon. Namjoon mistakes his unwillingness for simple fussiness and not for fear. If Hobi falls asleep it will be substantially easier to slip away- you watch from below as Namjoon props hobi up and pinches his jaw to make him open his mouth, encouraging the alpha to show his tongue with a prod of those gentle hands. His eyes are barely open, exhausted as he is.

“I know it hurts to swallow Hobi but you’ve got too.” Regardless of his shaken head, Namjoon insistently nudges his mouth with it. Soothing his gag with a stroke of his thumb down Hoseok’s Addams apple. A kiss to his lips for being good.

“This will help the swelling go down, you’ll be okay by morning.”

It’s minutes before they take effect. Slowly- Hoseok’s arm melts away from your stomach. His grip on you slackens from the drugs and his breath evens out. You say a quiet goodbye to him in your head and turn around to face him and kiss his forehead.

At least the last time you touch, it’s soft like that. At least the last time you touch him- it’s gentle.

Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon trade-off. A gun shared between the two of them. Perched on the edge of the nest. Eyes on the vacant stairway Infront of them. Listening for every creek and whisper met with a held breath and hand tightening around the gun. Waiting for the violence that you can all feel coming.

You won’t let it hit them; you won’t let it into this house again. Not while you’re still breathing.

When you're sure that Hobi is asleep you roll onto your back and stare up at the Christmas lights twinkling in the dark. You remember watching Jungkook hang them for you. You remember. You'll always try to remember; you promise yourself right then and there that you'll never let the memory slip away. No matter what happens.

You look over at Kookie, face so peaceful in sleep, a pillow hugged to his chest belly down in the nest, cheek squished close to the top of Yoongi's head on your other side. His back rising and falling.

Jungkook has always been a pretty omega. You reach over to him to stroke down the stiff bridge of his nose, to commit his face to memory. When you turn back to Hobi, you do the same, touching across the heart shape of his mouth, the subtle roundness in his cheeks everything. You look around at all of them- your pack, sleeping softly- sleeping safely. Namjoon's wide back, his shoulders that could hold the world up. Unaware that you're watching him.

You’ll remember all of it, every car ride, every trip to the beach. Every joke and jab. You’ll store each of the memories like a found thing in your pocket. A piece of seashell or sea glass.

You’ll take Jungkook’s laughter and store it- a memory to use when you need to remember that it’s okay to be young for a minute more. When you need to look after yourself you’ll remember how Jin did it and follow his example. And when you need to rest and be soft you'll remember yoongi. You’ll remember Tae like a tube of lipstick and see her every day in the color pink. And Jimin-

Jimin has a hard time sleeping. Even when Namjoon takes the last shift. He sleeps with one hand on a gun, spaced protectively in front of Tae. His bad arm unfolded from his sling. Putting his body between her and the staircase. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the knowledge of that when he glances back, just to check and make sure that Tae and Hobi are still breathing. You hide your open eyes from him when he turns, going extra still and feigning sleep.

Namjoon tamps down on his instincts; the last thing he wants is for his scent to go sour and possibly rouse them. But in the quiet, Namjoon's mind has too much room to fan out and overanalyze. Panic is a particularly alluring drug, his mind festers in it. Rolling around in bad ideas the way that Noodle would roll around in a puddle of catnip.

If he got the pack together, put you all in cars, and drove you far far away from here would that be enough to keep you all safe from harm? Or would that only be temporary? Is temporary safety worse when you know what you have to come back to? Or should he just try to talk to these people, barter with them something. Would money be enough? How much wouldn't Namjoon give?

You are dreadfully similar to him. Only his planning stays in its infancy stage.

It isn’t all silent. Noises punctuate the night here and there. Namjoon is so on edge that he all but snaps his teeth at the shadows. An alpha on alert.

Namjoon’s ears perk up at every car that dares to drive by your narrow street, the neighbor two houses to the left who leaves for work in the city at 4:05 every morning, right on time. Noodle and the sound of his scrabbly little paws on the stairs, zooming up and down them until Namjoon gets up to scruff him too.

Your freaking cat does not like Namjoon on a normal day, he's only ever loved you and Hobi and tolerated Tae and Jungkook- condemning all the rest to hisses and claws, but Noodle settles with Namjoon's hand on the back of his neck. "See, that wasn't too hard was it?"

Noodle gives one last half-hearted hiss as Namjoon places him gently in the nest where he stays put after curled up around Tae’s head like a fluffy little hat. Purring and licking at her forehead. All but taunting Namjoon with his yellow eyes. Flinty and knowing in the darkness. Bushy tail flailing every time the alpha glances back.

You think you’re being quiet when you push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Untangling Hobi’s arm from around your waist and pulling yourself to the edge of the bed. He's out cold from the painkillers. Barely even stirring.

Noodle stirs however, darting from the nest with a small murr sound as if to say, "see- she's awake so why can't I be?" Tail raised high as he prances to the doorway.

You look striking in the half darkness, a pair of Yoongi’s green flannel pajama pants rolled up several times to fit properly around your hips. A thin white tank top that's almost falling down one shoulder. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the need to hold, the need to protect. He makes a soft noise in his throat and your head jerks in his direction.

You swallow, and your lips look dry, eyes glassy and innocent in their tilt when your mussed hair fluffs over your shoulder. Messy from where Hobi was nuzzling it in his sleep.

“I was just getting a glass of water.”

Namjoon wordlessly holds his hand out to help you get out of the nest without teetering or disturbing the others. Noodle dashes back down the stairs with a soft meow. Tae sighs and re-settles, smacking her lips and Jimin’s arm tightens. Your mate turns face up in the nest, chest rising and falling, mouth opening like he can taste your scent on the air.

Namjoon doesn't doubt he can, honed in on you and focused as he always is.

Namjoon doesn’t let go of your hand when your feet find the smooth floor. Instead, he checks the wounds on your hands and verifies that they’re clotting. The margins slotted together properly for minimal scarring (he'd redone the glue-suture after your shower with only gentle scolding). He presses a kiss to the bandages after they're re-fastened. Letting his lips linger there for a second.

Namjoon has always had big hands, warm and steadying as they cradle yours. Small and chapped and scarred.

Instead of continuing on downstairs, you linger for a second by Namjoon’s side. Eating up every breath he breathes, his scent, and the comfort of having him nearby. Something you know you won’t have forever. (Somehow- you know that this will be the last time that Namjoon holds you. You can wait one minute more. You can give him one more minute). He sets the gun to the side and pulls you between his legs.

“Joonie?” You ask.

Your pack alpha wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles forward, rubbing his spiky head across your midriff. Nose nudging the dimple of your belly button and the slight pudge there with a quiet happy growl.

Namjoon will never not be happy that he can see the evidence of the pack’s love on you. Will never not feel proud of you and how far you've come. He nuzzles, resisting the temptation to bite and nip with a breath let out through clenched teeth.

Namjoon feels your quiet laugh against his cheek. Your warm soft skin swelling with laughter. Namjoon’s face is blushing red when he pulls back to look at you in the darkness. Corralled in the safe circle of his arms, fingers digging into your hips and squeezing.

“What are you doing alpha?”

“Just thinking- just-” Namjoon’s voice gets so much lower in the nighttime, it's a gravely growl. A sound that paints pictures of lightning and clouds hovering low like a blanket.

“When all of this is over, I want to go somewhere new.” Namjoon's hands tighten on your waist. fingers pressing to either side of your spine, thumbs sitting on the soft bones of your hips. “-With you. Just you. Just the two of us. Maybe.” Namjoon fights back a fresh blush at the confused cock of your head. “Maybe- like- a fancy Airbnb? Or something? Would that be fun? Would you like that?”

You pause, humming. Indulging Namjoon in this as he holds you, fingers rubbing endlessly up and down the sensitive small of your back. Eyes wide and imploring like a child.

You're only too happy to forget for a second and imagine. What would happen if you didn’t leave tonight? What would happen if you found some way out of this?

It’s easy to go further than just thinking about a simple weekend getaway. You Imagine far into the future; a day that you'll never see. A future with Namjoon and the pack. It hits you with such a profound heartache when you think it that you half expect to look down and see your white tank top speckled with blood. The ache so keen and visceral but-

Namjoon would be a good father.

He’d be kind and patient. He’d never snap. He’d never yell. For a moment that’s all you want to think about- not a stupid weekend but a lifetime. A family. A world where you’re never yelled at, where you don't have to be afraid, where nothing is hard, and even if it’s hard you do it together.

If you had pups, you know Namjoon would treat every skinned knee like it was surgery. Would never tell them to walk it off or say it wasn’t that bad. You know that he’d go through every tea party with gusto and stay up late to help them with their homework. That he’d struggle to say no but that you might never need to. It would be lovely- getting to give something small and innocent so much safety. It would be nice to have pups with Namjoon.

You can’t say you don’t want it, but you know in that moment that you won't get it. You'll never get to see Namjoon be a father- even if the pups aren't yours or are just his and Jin's. You’d love them all the same. What use is it to Imagine things that you’ll never get? What good are dreams like this but to tease you, just out of reach.

Namjoon nuzzles into your stomach again. His nose drawing soft circles just under your belly button.

You’d be a shit mother anyway. Too fragile. Too nervous. Too hurt. Too much of everything. You'd fuck them up just by being you. You'd fuck them up the same way you've fucked up this perfectly good pack. You've brought nothing but destruction upon them. The evidence of your wreckage is everywhere. The bullets in the ceiling, the blown apart door. Your hands and Hobi's throat. All of this is because of you.

You snap back to the present, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You’re gnawing at your own leg to survive. All things that bite cannot resist it. What good does hope do at the end other than to hurt?

You can't resist asking Namjoon for more, curled around you like a protective barrier to keep out all the world's hurts (or to keep you in).

“If we went? Where would we go? If we made it- What would it be like Joonie?”

Namjoon rests his chin on your belly button and looks up at you. Completely unaware of the longing tearing its way through you, of what you’re thinking about. Not just one trip or one year, but ten or twenty or thirty.

“Maybe south, to see the cherry blossoms?”

“We couldn’t go, not without Tae- cuz of the pink, and Hobi- cuz of the flowers”

Namjoon nods, agreeing. “Yeah- she does really like anything that’s pink.” There is a Tae-shaped smile on his face, you can feel it stretching your lips too. But he shakes it off, head bowed before you. Eyes closed against the image.

“Still, somewhere safe and quiet just for us, just for you and I to take a deep breath and-” Namjoon trails off, looking up at you. His eyes sparkle with the idea of it, all the little moments he’s picturing.

A private morning where he wakes up to just you. Where you hog his warm spot and his pillow in the chilly spring air. Your cold toes pressed to his shins with nothing to do but appreciate each other and take your loving slow and intentional. Your body and his body and all the space and laughter that you want in between. An idyllic picture of two young people quietly in love. Gently in it.

After almost losing all of it, he wants the chance to properly appreciate you one-on-one. The others too- but they’re asleep, and sleeping vessels cannot reply to Namjoon’s daydreams. You are the only one awake.

(In Namjoon's fantasy, he'll give each of his packmates a different trip. every one of them even if it's just the ones he's recently almost lost that have him thinking of these particular plans.

Hobi would want just a day trip. Namjoon knows the alpha doesn’t really like to be separated from the pack for all that long, a few hours sure. Maybe to some vintage stores that he’s been eyeing to the city or the botanical garden.

Seokjin he’d take somewhere grand and big and full of adventure, maybe to 6 Flags or something. Jin likes to be reminded that he’s allowed to be a kid again, that he doesn’t always have to look after everyone all the time. That he has Namjoon to lean on.

Tae, he’d take somewhere gilded just as she is, like teatime at the Ritz- or maybe abroad to the castle of Versailles. The hall of mirrors and a million pictures of Tae in pretty dresses, twirling. In Namjoon’s head- he watches her turn and flutter slowly like a top. Spinning and spinning).

But none of that is quite your style. You don't really crave outings or adrenaline or gilded things. Your wants are much more simple maybe- because you've always known how priceless quiet and peace is. Gentleness is all you've ever really wanted- not excitement or acclaim or ego.

“A little cabin somewhere in the mountains, a spot for just us. We wouldn’t even have to do anything, A staycation. A night or two.” As the world spins on, you are who Namjoon craves to be still with.

You swallow hard, lingering, still half leaning over him still. Letting him nose at your jaw and purr.

“That would be so nice Joonie."

You swallow, throat thick with something. You lean forward pressing a kiss- too brief, to his lips, Namjoon’s lips part and he breathes gently. You blink back the glassiness in your eye and hope that Namjoon dismisses it as the light from the moon streaming through one of the skylights. All white and black. Wrenching you through something that feels like film. You commit the feel of him and the sound of his voice to memory and then pull back.

“I really need to get a glass of water.”

Namjoon shifts to get up, to come with you, but you just laugh at him and push at his shoulder, he flops back onto the bed.

“I can go on my own Joonie.” He grumbles but stays put. Nosing at the goosebumps on your arms and leaning to retrieve Hobi’s sweatshirt from where you left it in the nest. It smells like sleeping pups and Jin. Milky and soft and safe. Namjoon’s body shivers happily when he sees you put it on.

You squirm out from between his legs. His palm stays wrapped around the tips of your fingers. They slide out of his a little, and then all the way.

“It’s not safe.” You heave a tired sigh, what he thinks is a tired sigh but is actually you trying your hardest not to cry. You lean over him to grab the gun from where it’s rested against the nesting barrier. Getting your phone while you’re at it and sliding it into the pocket of your sweatshirt.

“Is that better?” Namjoon grumbles but still lets you go. Sitting there on the edge of your nest and guarding the others. You look back at him from the top of the stairs and smile.

The house is quiet, with no creeks on the stairs and no winds blowing across the roof. No sound at all in the house beyond your quiet footsteps that Namjoon listens to as you go down the stairs.

Feeling every second of your distance like the sluggish beat of his heart, thump thump thump. Namjoon looks back to look at his pack. Their bodies curled and resting, so gentle in sleep. After a few minutes, there are footsteps on the stairs, small soft ones.

Thump.

“They’re so beautiful” Namjoon comments to you. Waiting for reply.

The silence gnashes its teeth, still hungry.

When Namjoon turns back, it’s not you standing at the top of the stairs- just Noodle with his tail raised high. His yellow eyes glow almost florescent in the darkness, meowing and hissing so loud it might wake the others.

“Noodle, quiet.” The cat just doesn’t quit, batting at Namjoon’s ankles, claws and all. “Noodle- hush.” He scoops up the fussy cat, but Namjoon’s only reward is some claws to his forearms and some more squirming.

Downstairs, he hears a sound that makes him pause. Instincts going from at peace to on edge.

Thump

The front door opens and closes softly with a soft click of the metal doorknob.

Thump

Namjoon goes to the top of the stairs, holding Noodle in his arms before the cat squirms and falls to the floor with a thud. “Pup?” he calls, hushed. You don’t respond. Only silence greets him, sated at last.

Thump, breath, thud.

Namjoon waits a moment, listening for a response that doesn't come before he goes down the stairs, Noodle nearly trips him on the way down, hissing and pacing back and forth in front of the door. The ground floor of the house is completely absent of you- absent of anyone friend or foe. The room is soaked in the blue darkness of morning that is not quite dawn. The white countertops are unassuming and the plates stay in their places.

Thud.

The couch still has its dark spot from where Jin cleaned it. The tangerines are safely in the bowl back on the counter shining like several small suns or planets. Everything is empty empty empty.

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

Namjoon checks the shoe rack. Your sneakers are missing, the same ones that match Hobi's and usually sit side by side with his. The spot where they should be empty.

Thud

Your wallet is missing from the bowl just inside the door.

Thud

Namjoon looks out onto the street and finds it empty.

Thud thud thud

Namjoon does not panic, Namjoon does not head out onto the street and chase you down- maybe he should have. He should have done any number of things. The sun is just barely rising turning the sky into that honey blue-green color and Namjoon just stands there and stares.

Namjoon is frozen. What kind of alpha is he- why kind of alpha freezes instead of fights or flights?

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

A few minutes pass and something must tip off the packmates upstairs- either the empty nest or the sound of Noodle yowling and quite literally trying to bite Yoongi's ear off.

The next thing Namjoon is aware of is Yoongi is on the stairs, looking pissed off, looking terrified. almost falling down them with the speed at which he descends.

He takes the stairs down two at a time, colliding with Namjoon at the bottom of them. He looks like a puffed-up cat, hair wild and eyes equally as glaring as Noodles when he shakes Namjoon, just a little. “Where is she? Namjoon? Where did she go? Where is my mate!?"

Is it Yoongi's scent- acrid and angry- that knocks him out of his stupor? Or is it the top of his ruffled head almost colliding with the bottom of Namjoon’s jaw when the beta shakes him again.

Namjoon stutters, panic making him inarticulate. So scared he repeats it twice. "I don't know- I don't know, I- she said she was just getting a glass of water. I swear-"

Yoongi's fists tangle in the front of Namjoon's shirt. He sounds sick with it. Voice twisting in pitch.

"You were supposed to keep an eye on her- you weren't supposed to let her out of your fucking sight.”

There are other people on the stairs, roused by the sound of raised voices. A lone light flicked on sends everyone into yellow chiaroscuro. Namjoon is still staring at the street, heart thundering quicker than your footsteps as you run. The streetlights wink out behind you as you go. Fleeing with the night and bowing under the weight of oncoming daylight. Running as fast as your body can carry you.

Could he catch up if he started running now?

It's Jungkook, his dark hair pushed up at the side where it rested against the nest, who asks, “What happened?What’s going on?”

Tae’s eyes dart between Yoongi and Namjoon, her pink silk dressing gown wrapped tight around her shoulders. “Where’s the pup?”

"Yeah Namjoon, where the fuck is my mate??" Yoongi grits his teeth, shaking Namjoon so hard it almost knocks him off his feet and sends him careening a little into the narrow dresser table that the pack keeps by the door for gloves and mittens and keys and wallets.

“I don’t know, I don’t-"

Jungkook and Tae have just spilled out from the stairs into the entryway when Yoongi’s hands hit his shoulders, pushing and then digging into Namjoon’s skin. He’s shaking so hard he can hardly speak.

“You were supposed to be watching her. You were supposed to make sure she was safe-”

“Yoongi- hey- Stop” Tae’s not shaking anymore when gets her hands on his shoulders pulling him away from namjoon where he simmers. Jin is still asleep upstairs. Hasn’t been roused by all the tense voices. Too tired from yesterday- from staying up to scrub blood with Yoongi.

Jungkook skitters to the door as Jimin and hobi descend the steps. nearly bouncing on his heels as he opens the front door letting in a gush of cold air. “What are we waiting for? lets go."

Yoongi's face crumples. “I don’t get it, where did she go- why would she have-”

Hoseok swallows but talks softly, the swelling’s gone down enough even though the bruises look a million times worst in the sunlight streaming through the window. It’s not even 6am yet. His soft hiss is gentle, but the pack pauses to hear it.

“A deal- I think she made a deal.”

It's the first words he’s been able to speak since the attack. Vocal cords straining with every word. Everyone quiets to listen to Hobi. Jimin’s got the shotgun in his hands. He leans it up against the doorway. The heavy thunk punctuates the shocked quiet- but hobi continues.

“When the man was here- she tried to barter our lives with hers." Everyone looks to Tae. And her eyes lower to the floor.

“She did say that but I didn’t think she was serious, I just thought-”

The conversation is a flurry, everyone talking over each other as conversation explodes. Yoongi's face twists from devastated to enraged. “Jesus fucking Christ- that stupid stupid-”

Jungkook clings to Jimin's t-shirt, “What are we going to do? Hyung- what should we-”

Jimin hasn't spoken a word yet, and softly draws Jungkook's hands away from his shirt. “Where would she even have even gone?"

“Did someone pick her up?” Hobi’s words seem to ring out, even though his voice is so fragile.

Namjoon shakes his head. “No- I was listening, I didn’t hear any car in the road- not for like the whole hour.”

“So, you were listening enough to hear the street but not to stop her from literally walking away from us, great. Good to know Namjoon.”

“Yoongi that is like- the opposite of helpful.”

“There's still the matter of where would she have gone. She didn't take a car-” Hoseok looks up in Tae’s direction. She sees the realization light across his face.

“Hobi?”

But Hoseok ignores her, lurching to the small cabinet by the front door; the pack’s drop-off points for their keys, their wallets and your fuzzy little purse from your first ever date with jimin and tae as well as a good slice of Tae’s collection of little red pocketbooks. They keep their things this way because Namjoon loses his keys at least once a month a nd having a communal spot always helps the general disorder of having 8 people live in one house.

Hoseok scrambles not for your wallet but for his.

He reaches for his wallet. Opening it and searching but-

The train ticket is gone.

Your train ticket- the one that you gave Hobi for safekeeping so many months ago is missing from where he usually keeps it in the last slot. Right next to that folded poem of Tae's and an old gift card. In its place is just a simple folded note, a new piece of paper that hasn’t been worn soft at the edges yet. Torn from the same pad of paper that Jin writes the grocery list on. Hoseok’s hands shake as they fish it out. 5 words that aren’t nearly enough.

I’m sorry, I love you.

You’d never told him that- that you loved him. Not after you’d had sex and he’d confessed. Not in the tangle of moments that followed with Jimin bloody and the pack breaking. You’d never spilled your heart to him that way. In the back of his head, he realizes that there just hadn’t been time.

This is the first time you’ve told Hoseok you love him and maybe the last. Hoseok’s heart beats quick. She loves me. Thump. She loves me. Thump. She loves-

Hoseok shoots off like a bullet out the open door, thundering across the porch slats. Too fast for the rest of the sleepy pack to properly anticipate and follow. Peering out after him, a little sluggish and a lot shocked. His socks skid and slip as he tries to arrest his momentum and almost falls as He doubles back for his shoes.

The rest of the pack stares down at him blankly as he tugs them on, sprawled there on the floor just outside the door. Hands shaking too much for bunny-eared loops. He doesn’t even bother to lace them before he’s lunging for his car keys in the bowl too. Nearly knocking over the table in his haste.

“The train station- she’s going to the train station.” He gasps.

The words you shared that night ring in his head, playing on repeat. Like a record that’s been scratched too many times. He’s replayed those moments too many times. He’s not sure if he remembers it correctly.

“Give me one chance, let me try to convince you to stay and if I can’t- then I’ll let you go, and I won’t tell Yoongi what train you took.”

The countless times you’d joked with him after that, the moment so light that Hoseok didn’t notice the weight behind them.

“You still got that train ticket?”

“Of course I do.”

Hoseok never thought that you’d use it. He thought that the ticket would have stayed frayed and pretty in his wallet until you framed it or something. Until you could look back on it and laugh and say things like “remember that night? Remember how it used to be before we loved each other?”

“No, I don’t, can you remind me?”

This is not that, this is not the future that Hoseok had imagined for the two of you. This abject terror. Suddenly Hoseok is unmoored, suddenly he is falling. Usually, you can see the end from a mile away. Is it worse if you lose the person you love because of circumstance or because they decide to leave on their own? Hoseok never thought you'd actually do it.

Hoseok thought your promise last night meant something. Later when he’s not so scared he’ll remember that he’s angry about that.

The rest of the pack explodes too. Jungkook doesn’t bother to put on his shoes- just heaves Hobi up by his shoulders and pushes him towards his car. Yoongi snatches both of their pairs from the floor and joins them. Cold feet on the small pea-gravel driveway. Jimin darts forward wrenching off his arm sling regardless of Namjoon’s protests.

“I’ll drive” Jimin doesn’t have to wrestle with Hoseok’s keys for long. Even with his hands numb Jimin is still the best driver. He won’t pull corners or care about hitting curbs. He reeves it with a roaring purr while the rest get in and looks at Tae in the rearview mirror. Standing on the porch looking breakable and not all there still. Her eyes on his have that same peculiar weight, the same weight that makes Jimin’s blood sing with purpose.

If there was ever someone that Tae needed, it was you. Not Jimin. He will haul you back from the edge of hell if he needs to, for her. because this is not the ending that you and tae deserve. Jimin will tear you from hell. Teeth and sin and all.

Jungkook has barely shut the door before Jimin peals out, reversing until the tires screech against the asphalt and leave dark lines in their wake. Tire tracks, strings of fate, shoelaces. He shoots off down the street and out of sight, knocking over a trash bin with a clang and leaving Tae and Namjoon back on the porch.

Hoseok knows the name of the station you were most likely to go to but not how to get to it. It's an 15 minute walk, maybe a 10 minute run and it's already been 8 since you left. Jimin points his car in the direction of the main road while he pulls it up on his cell phone.

With every sharp turn Yoongi and Jungkook slosh in the back seat and hit into each other. Some early morning commuter honks his horn at Jimin but he doesn’t even see them. The scenery flickering by and the asphalt melting away underneath the wheels of Hoseok’s red car. The small grey towns melt away, Break lights bleeding less than they should. The engine stutters and engages but no one cares about the uneven acceleration. Hoseok would total this car in a heartbeat if it meant getting you in time.

At the straightaway Jungkook stoops to slip his feet into his shoes, Yoongi holding his shoulder. The phone in between them slides on the leather seat, spitting out its electronic voice, overly cheerful.

"Re-routing!"

“Wait Minnie- go left.”

“Fuck!” Jimin makes the turn just barely, sparks skittering and burning out as he goes over one of those tiny reflective dividers. Hoseok curses every pothole for damaging their momentum and slowing them down.

“Are you sure? Are you sure that it’s this station that she'd go to?” Hoseok’s heart is thundering in his ears, beating furious and fast.

“Almost positive.” Yoongi holds onto the back of Hoseok’s chair to keep himself in place.

“We have to get to her before she gets to the city. Can’t you go any faster?” Jimin jerks the wheel around a flashy BMW. Almost hitting them with how close he gets. Jimin lets the speedometer answer Yoongi's question. Pushing 60 in a 35 and then 70.

Your note is crumpled tight in Hoseok's fist, a tiny bit of yellow paper that he unfolds and looks at before shoving deep within the confines of his jacket.

Yoongi is not looking at hoseok when he says his next sentence. Hoseok's not even thinking about his old pack, he's just thinking about the fact that you love him and he never got to hear you say it. Not when Yoongi pulls himself almost between his and Jimin’s seat and repeats the same to Jimin again, the same only different.

Thud.

“We have to get to her before Moonbyul does, if she gets to her- I don't know what I'll be able to do Minnie- even with the power that I have Moonbyul still has more-”

Hobi’s flinch is visceral, jerking like he's shocked.

He turns around to look at Yoongi as Jimin blows through a stop sign and then a red light. Jungkook winces and doesn’t say anything. Pushing Yoongi’s shoes across the seat. “Hyung- you should get ready to run.”

Hoseok and Yoongi look at each other. Hoseok's turned almost all the way around in his seat to stare at Yoongi- more specifically Yoongi’s mouth. He’s not sure if Jimin’s painkillers would make him hallucinate but that’s the only logical reason his brain can come up with after hearing that name- her name- come out of Yoongi’s mouth.

“What?"

Jimin's voice is deathly quiet. "Hoseok- turn the fuck around. If I get into an accident at this speed you will die if you're not facing forward to the airbag."

Hoseok turns back to face the road. Jimin grips the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. “Thank you.”

The sunlight is just cresting the tops of the trees. Dotting the scenery blue and yellow. Hoseok’s ears are ringing with her name.

Yoongi pulls himself closer to Hoseok, hands still gripping the headrest, the only thing that keeps him from bobbing and moving with the movement of the car. Eyes locked on Hoseok's face in the rearview mirror.

"I said something- I said something and you're having a thought."

"I fucking hope so-" Jungkook's quip goes unnoticed. Unnoticed through the volley of honking horns as the red car tares through the street. By some miracle, they haven’t passed a cop car yet.

Hoseok looks in the rearview mirror, at Yoongi’s face. Biting his lower lip. “It’s nothing just that name.”

Hoseok looks at Yoongi and all he can think about is how he'd never said- he'd never told Yoongi their names. Saying them or even thinking them reminds Hoseok too much of his own begging. What kind of alpha begs for an omega to hurt them- to stay?

Yoongi just about puts himself in the front seat of the car as Jimin breaks hard to navigate around a tractor-trailer. Riding on the shoulder, the rumble strips vibrating all of them hard and roaring just like Hoseok’s blood thundering through his ears.

“Moonbyul? Moon Byul-yi? You know it?”

Hoseok shivers, the reaction of his body route, unavoidable. Jarring. Trauma builds itself into your bones whether you like it or not. Triggers are not so much a part of you as they are a light switch that makes the worst parts of you turn on.

"Yeah- I do. It’s the name of my ex-pack omega.” Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be distracted, and he almost gets into an accident for his troubles. They’re silent for a second, Yoongi and Jimin look at each other.

“It could be the same name.”

Yoongi scrambles for his phone on the seat right as Jimin makes a turn and it goes flying. He finds it underneath Hoseok’s seat, hands slippery with sweat on it.

“Hang on, I think I have a picture of her somewhere.”

Yoongi scrolls all the way to the back in his phone. Switches to Instagram, going back and back and back through time, and then he's sticking it in Hoseok's face.

Seeing her face feels like Yoongi’s slapped him. Her face is on Yoongi's phone. Why is her face on Yoongi’s phone? Her hair is longer than it was when they dated, she must not have cut it since. But it's definitely her.

Hoseok feels like he's spinning, it's been so long since he's seen her face but it's definitely the one from his nightmares, the one he sees grinning and crooning false praises that have stuck to Hoseok's soul like glue. The face that he sees behind his eyes and sees in every criticizing comment only on his bad days. She's standing shoulder to shoulder with Yoongi, both of them in black suits along with a man that looks enough like Yoongi for him to guess that that's his brother, your ex-husband.

Your abuser and his and Yoongi in between them. Hoseok can only hear ringing in his ears, he knows he sounds accusatory when he snaps. "How the fuck do you know my ex-pack omega?"

“She’s my cousin. Are you sure that's her?”

Hoseok feels like he’s spinning. “Yeah, I'm sure.”

“I thought you said your old pack was all omega’s?” Yoongi knows Hoseok’s lore, knows it like he knows the back of his hand. He looks up, hair falling across his face. Hoseok frowns jabbing his finger at the phone.

“I did. She’s an omega.”

The dissonance hits him and Yoongi almost wants to disagree but then-

Hoseok watches the lightbulb go off, Yoongi’s eyes widening imperceptibly as he paws at the phone and Hoseok’s hand. The car sickness lurches in his stomach as he turns to look back at Yoongi, and the g force hits him as Jimin takes another turn Impossibly fast. The seatbelt across Hobi’s chest engages with a click, digging into his skin and the bruises on his neck with a painful jerk.

“Are you sure? Hoseok- you have to be sure.”

“I’m sure.”

This is all a game of leverage. A game of who knows what secret and what gets exchanged for whom. Yoongi spent most of last night wondering about Moonbyul's motivation, and now he knows why.

Hoseok is holding onto Yoongi’s phone, they’re hands gripping it together. “Is this who she’s going too? The one who tried to kill us? Is-” Hoseok has to swallow to get the words out right. “Is Moonbyul the one trying to take her?”

“Yes.”

Hoseok shivers, eyes darkening, scent spiraling wildly. His muscles trembling as he thinks about it. You and Moonbyul.

Yoongi pulls himself around Jimin’s headrest. Hand on his throat, digging into his scent gland. He doesn't have time to explain to them.

Only alphas can lead the family, only alphas can rule. If Moonbyul isn't one- that calls into question the legitimacy of her rule. The families would never stand to see an omega on the throne, she'd be ousted, probably killed for daring to lie. The families would tear her apart piece by piece and Yoongi would let them.

If Moonbyul is the person who hurt Hobi- and now she's going after you- that's two people that Yoongi loves that she's directly hurt. Yoongi is thinking all sorts of dangerous things. But they have to get to you first.

If Moonbyul isn't an alpha then Yoongi's just found his leverage and maybe the whole reason why the pack was targeted in the first place.

A packmate for a secret. Yoongi imagines the worst-case scenario; Don't tell and I won't hurt her. Don’t tell anyone and she lives.

How long had she stewed and festered- knowing that Hoseok was out there- knowing that he knew the secret that could lead to her undoing. Maybe she thought his knowing would never come back to bite her, and had intended on tying up the loose end later. Maybe she didn't know Hoseok had found his way into Yoongi's arms until after the old Don and Beta had died. She probably thought that they’d never put it together- at least not until it was too late.

Whatever her reasons, this has gone on long enough.

Yoongi opens his mouth, but Hoseok’s body is taught like a spring-loaded and ready to burst. His voice a near growl.

“Jimin, I need you to drive.”

~-~

Tae and Namjoon are left standing there on the porch. Namjoon left staring after them as they hurl away from the house. Running his hands through his hair hard. Thinking of what to do until-

Tae tugs on his sleeve, “Your phone- Joonie- you should call her.”

“Right- fuck-” Namjoon goes and gets it, and comes back to stand with Tae on the porch. “Come on- come on pick up.” Namjoon paces back and forth on the front porch, the snowmelt from the roof drips out an uneven rhythm onto the railing. the cold spray hitting his stress-warm skin.

Tae stands by the door. Frozen, a statue of Namjoon’s distress. Inside, Namjoon hears a voice. Jin coming down the stairs, probably roused by the sound of the car screeching out of the driveway and down the road.

“Tae? Where is everybody?”

“Pup’s being stupid. The others left to go get her before she’s like- really really stupid.”

Jin freezes in the doorway, fist rubbing his eye. He sounds smaller and younger than Namjoon’s ever heard him. “Am I having a bad dream?” namjoon's pacing stutters and then starts up again. Jin doesn't need him right now, Jin he can help later.

Tae takes Jin's hand and leads him to the outdoor furniture. The cushions have to be damp but they sit anyway. Tae pulls her knees under her and rests her cheek on Jin's shoulder. “That’s what I thought too at first.”

Namjoon almost sobs when he hears it- the click of the dial tone and a single breath. He can hear the thud of the train in the background, the hiss of pressure against the scratchy speaker.

“Pup? oh thank god, stay where you are- the others are-”

“Namjoon? Joonie stop- I didn’t pick up so that you could convince me to come back. I only picked up because I never said goodbye.”

Namjoon freezes, and he feels like the snowmelt from the roof has just dripped down his back. Growing frigid more with each word. If there was ever a question on if you’d gone willingly or been taken- it was answered with that.

“Pup, come home right now or I swear to god-”

“No! For once you’re going to listen!” You’ve only shouted at him a handful of times and he’s hardly ever heard you sound so serious.

"No- you can't-"

“Namjoon, The second you say anything to try and convince me to stay is the moment I hang up, so what is it gonna be?”

Namjoon goes silent and stops his pacing. Holding the phone so hard it feels like the plastic and metal might break.

Namjoon’s very being hinges on every syllable you say, Like the ocean hinges on the moon. Water tethered and kept from the shore by something as simple as gravity. Tae is right there. Tae is watching the driveway not saying anything with that same blank look Namjoon has seen on your face countless times.

All at once Namjoon is reminded of you in the summertime back when he first met you and trauma had you all quiet. Staring off into space in much the same way. Small and fragile and worth saving. You’ve always been that for him; worth saving.

Jin scrubs a hand across his face, clearing himself of the last little bits of sleep. He holds out his hand for the phone, but Namjoon doesn’t give it to him just paces right by him as he listens to you.

“I only picked up the phone because I have some things that I want to say to you.”

You sound more settled and less angry but just as resigned and convicted of what you're doing. Like no part of you doubts your choices. Namjoon wishes you sounded angry, that you sounded sad, but you don’t sound like any of those things.

“I'm not leaving because I think I don't deserve a life with you and the pack. I’m not leaving because I think that I’m not worth your love. I’m leaving because for the first time I know that I am.

“For the first time I understand why Yoongi left and why he didn’t come back until he knew it would be safe. Because when you love something the way that I love you, you’ll do anything to protect them. Can you really blame me Joonie? For doing what you might have done?”

You continue on like you’re not wrenching Namjoon’s heart clean from his chest. Like you’re not a hurricane on his very being- dark and thunderous tearing through him as impersonal as wind. Namjoon’s heart thuds and thuds and thuds.

“Before I leave you, I want you to know that if I loved you less- I might have stayed.”

Namjoon’s lungs ache, ache and sting and swell with words he can’t say, he can’t breathe. His mouth screwed into a soundless sob. He actually might be having a panic attack. He's never had one before- he's not sure if he knows what one feels like. If it's like this- if it's like this he can understand why people call them an attack.

It's frantic, like he's chewing off his own leg to get out of your words. The panic is so terrible. Namjoon hasn't been this scared since he was a child. At least Yoongi had the fucking decency not to make his leaving so visceral.

Namjoon is bent over, tears dripping down his nose, sagging almost to his knees. “Why are you doing this to us!? To me!”

Something jiggles the phone, something that makes your voice all warbly- Namjoon imagines you on the train in a window seat. Resting your cheek against the balmy glass while you talk to him. Staring out at the scenery racing by. Hurtling towards your future like a comet or maybe an asteroid (something more destructive- more appropriate for the wretchedness filling Namjoon’s lungs like tar, the desiccated bodies of the dreams he had for you and the plans he made with you in mind clogging his lungs and making it hard to breathe).

Who knows, maybe off between the trees and the road, you see a red car zooming, trying to keep pace with the train.

Namjoon’s heart feels like it’s skipping too many beats.

“Something Jin told me the other day got stuck in my head and I keep thinking about it, would you like to hear it?”

You take his silence for permission and Namjoon does not turn to look at Jin and Tae sitting on the outdoor furniture. They just sit there; they don't do anything. Namjoon wishes there was something they could do or something he could barter for your safe return but you already have all of him and all of him wasn't enough to make you stay.

“Jin showed me this little article the other day- a few weeks ago now. He can tell you it in more detail but basically, it was about these mice.”

Namjoon struggles to say something- unsure where you’re going with this but desperate to keep you on the line. At least until the others get to you. Drinking down your voice, the whisper of your breath, everything.

“They made like- two test groups, they wanted to measure like- willpower- or how long they would try to live before they gave up. It’s kinda dark I guess. I'm not a good judge of things like that you know.”

Your laugh is the prettiest and saddest thing that Namjoon’s ever heard. He wants to record it and save it for later like some hidden track and he never wants to hear it again.

“Anyways- they put the mice and a bucket of water and timed how long it took for them to stop swimming, to stop trying to live. They’d try for a little while but give up pretty quickly. Like- an hour. That’s how much will to live that they had: an hour’s worth of it.”

Namjoon breaks, shouting, “I don’t want to talk about mice I want to talk about getting you the fuck home!”

Namjoon can hear your smile in your voice, And no-no-no you won’t even let him fight- you won’t even let him snap at you and engage with it. Namjoon’s seen you sad, he’s seen you defeated. He’s seen you so hungry you could hardly hold your head up. But seeing you convicted of this punishment is worse than anything.

“Anyway- they just killed the first group for a baseline. But with the second group just before they died- just before they went underwater- They took them out of the water and dried them off.”

Your voice goes hushed at the end. The morning sunlight cuts across the top of the house yellow. The tree too- it’s early morning- Namjoon’s favorite time of day and he won’t be ever able to properly enjoy it again. Won’t ever be able to wake up at this time of day and not think about the morning you left.

“They let them rest and gave them some food.”

Namjoon feels like he’s about to have a heart attack, blood thumping and hitting against his ribcage. Bullying out the flowers and the butterflies in his stomach.

“Cuddled them a little.”

Namjoon stands at the doorway to the pack den. Hands so tight in their fists that they ache and ache. Namjoon’s hands have saved countless people’s lives before, and they’ve saved yours too- but right now they just hurt.

“And when they put them back in,”

Noodle meows dolefully from the door, swatting at Jin’s ankles and then purring around Tae’s. Namjoon’s knees are shaking.

“They lasted for a whole 12 hours longer. Because they thought they might be saved. Because they had some love to remember. They were able to last for a lot longer than they would have otherwise.”

His face is screwed something terrible with how hard he’s sobbing. How is it that just an hour ago you were safe in his arms, talking about getting away from here. Just an hour ago. It's still 5am a time zone away, if Namjoon got on a plane and flew there- would you still be safe? Is there any way to turn back time?

You only get to love people for as long as you get and not a second more. You get what you get and you don't get upset. Yoongi might have been your lifeblood, the air in your lungs and your reason for existing, but you’d still be that fragile creature close to drowning if it wasn’t for Namjoon.

“Namjoon?” You say his name once and then softer, a croon. “Joonie.”

He's sobbing too hard to see, “Don’t-”

“Thank you for drying me off.”

The phone clicks and disconnects.

Namjoon falls to the stairs, ass in a puddle but none of him cares. He remembers the first day he heard you speak, sitting on these stairs while he helped Yoongi fix the railing. Namjoon remembers the summer heat and feeling scared for you for the first time- because the railing felt so rickety and the last thing he wanted was for you or Jungkook or Hobi to fall. Namjoon is the one who is falling, hurtling towards destruction that stops and ends with his heart.

His hands hurt. He remembers laughing with the others and stealing sips of sweet tea. Nibbling on the sour lemons, sweaty and hot and dusty. His eyes feel like they’re going to fall out of his head with how hard he’s crying. He remembers that you’d poked his dimples and called them pretty, he remembers feeling tired after but fulfilled for it.

One scene in summer and the other in winter now. At the beginning of a relationship and now at the end. The stairs still creek, the wind still blows and Namjoon's hands are still sweaty.

Namjoon sobs loudly and it echos across the empty cul-de-sac gut-wrenching. People cry differently when they lose people they love. Namjoon has heard people cry like this after he’s told them bad news, no sign of brain activity. We did everything that we could. I'm so sorry. It sounds different now that it’s coming out of his own mouth.

He actually might pass out with how hard he’s breathing. Teeth dig into his lower lip so hard he tastes blood. He’s still holding the phone to his ear. “Pup- wait- I love you- you can’t do this to us- to me.” But you’ve already hung up on him.

The dial tone tears through him like a bullet. Namjoon should be bleeding, broken hearts don't hurt this much without blood. People don’t hurt this much without actual wounds.

Eventually, something touches his back, a soft furry creature that only makes Namjoon sob harder as Noodle bullies his way under Namjoon’s arm and licks at his fingertips. Before long there’s hands on him. Jin and Tae pull him up and onto the furniture. One hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. Jin grabs his wrist. Circling it gently before he holds his hands and nudges them until they relax from their clenched fists.

Namjoon cries.

Together they watch the road and wait for the others to return.

~-~

(Hidden playlist ▶ Play track?)

“Shit!”

They miss the first train by just a few seconds. It screeches away from the platform when Jungkook gets out of the car. Standing there for a breath and watching it pull away. The metal thud screech of it drowns out Yoongi’s voice.

Jimin hits the wheel and growls before he revs the engine and turns, almost hitting a fire hydrant with how quick and jerky he backs up and accelerates. Leaning forward through the window to snap at Jungkook.

“Get back in the fucking car!”

Jungkook does, the door barely latching and almost swinging free as Jimin peels out of the parking lot. Slamming back shut when Jimin does a near 180 to accelerate back onto the main road.

“Sorry hyung,” Yoongi doesn’t need to reply- they all know that every second matters.

Jimin almost collides with a car stopped at the light before he drives on the shoulder, spinning around them. The train matches the road at this part of the tracks so it’s easy to follow it. They keep pace with it as Jimin pushes 70 miles an hour and then 80.

Jimin keeps the gas pedal well acquainted with the floor until they're going faster than the train. Weaving in and out of traffic back and forth, getting honked at and almost cut off several times. Leaving his packmates to grip to seats and their handles. Worried about getting thrown off but still- not wearing their seatbelts.

“We’re never going to make it! It’s too fast! We’re going to hit traffic soon!” The closer they get to the city the less likely it is that they'll be able to catch up to you. It's nearly early morning rush hour, another 30 minutes and these roads will be at a standstill.

“Hang on- let me see the map,” Hoseok watches Yoongi look at it.

“If we go to the next station, we won’t make it. But, if we try to go to the one after that and cut it off-” A look around the car says everyone agrees with Yoongi. Jimin steps on it, and there are a terrifying few minutes where Jimin’s driving skills honestly make them all count their prayers and promise things to gods that they’re already not fond of- but when they skitter and screech into the next station he hears it.

“The next inbound train will be arriving shortly, please collect your belongings. And remember-“

Hoseok is hot on the announcements heals. Sliding to get out of the car before it’s really stopped. “If we miss this one just go to the next station without us-”

“-if you see something say something.”

The train is coming- Hoseok can see the lights about a 100 feet down the tracks and it's moving fast. Yoongi almost makes to get out but Hoseok just shoves him back inside. Jungkook gets out of the car too, bolting in the direction of the stairs. “Hoseok-”

“Yoongi- Just go!”

There are maybe three flights of stairs up, then 50 feet across the tracks, and then the same amount of steps down. He and Jungkook book it up them. Making every second count. Hurtling through time and air. Ignoring the sore and tired pulse of their muscles. They’re clearing the top step and the train is below them. A silver bullet careening and destined to do damage but slowing down.

They bolt across the landing past the ticket kiosk and through the push doors. The train is stopping with a hiss of breaks and a screech of metal. A release of pressurized air that billows up to them warm carrying with it the smell of tar and city.

Hoseok’s lungs are burning. Jungkook is usually faster by just a little bit and would be on any ordinary day. They might be roughly the same height but Hoseok doesn't do cardio nearly as often as Jungkook does. Jungkook's the one who runs every day, who does cardio like it's sleeping and marathons like they're mid-afternoon naps. Who works out and hones his body to a lethal edge just because he can.

But he doesn’t run like Hoseok does.

Hoseok runs like his life depends on it- the same way you would run if he was walking into Geumjae’s arms. You’d never let Geumjae touch even a hair on Hoseok’s head and if- if Moonbyul is who you’re going to- then there is more at stake than just your phsyical safety, too much at stake for Hoseok to be held back by his body.

Hoseok thinks of the tiramisu. Of walking with you on the beach. Of making your nightime stacks just the way you like it. Of holding you that one time you almost fell into the water. Telling you that you had to be careful. Hoseok remembers driving out in his car, tugging your seatbelt to make sure it fit snug. Standing with you side by side in the flower refrigerators at work and the feeling the first time you’d rubbed your scent gland to his. Every playlist of his with your name on it, every song that you ever shared. All of that- she’s going to destroy all of that if Hoseok doesn’t get to you in time.

He remembers how small she made him feel. How small you were when he first saw you. He won’t let you get that way again. Hoseok won’t let you disappear.

Jungkook is the one who would win this race on any other day, where the stakes any different, but just this once Hoseok is faster. Hurling himself over the concrete as fast as his body will take him. Hoseok cuts through the air like wind.

They run, feet thumping. Bodies thudding, hearts and lungs delivering oxygen to their needy muscles. Beat-up sneakers gripping the concrete. Down and down the stairs, plummeting. Almost tripping and falling on the slippery concrete steps. The doors start to close just as they round the corner.

By some miracle of blood and sweat, Hobi's the one who overtakes Jungkook. The doors are closing and the train's metal shell is beginning to hum and vibrate as it makes to pull away from the tracks.

In a last-ditch effort, Hoseok throws himself in the direction of the closing doors.

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog! Every bit of encouragement helps me write the next chapter!

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

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~-~

Do i think that hobi could have actually warned the pack what she was planning to do? Yes. Do I also think that he thought he had more time to warn them and really wanted to sleep off his near death experience? also yes. Namjoon giving him drugs obviously didn't help. i honestly don't think he was thinking clearly.

this is one of those chapters where everything could have gone differently if they'd just been given a little bit more- but i digress- we all know life isn't so neat and tidy.

I can't not write thinking about the angsty alternative ending for bily- but you guys should know the namjoon/m/c scene...if things had gone poorly in this chapter- this would have been the last time they spoke or touched each other for 3 years- for those who are wondering about the alternative ending- i will NOT be posting any of it on AO3. Only on tumblr through asks! i'll try to tag the super triggering stuff but yeah.

when i think of namjoon and the m/c and their relationship- i think that what they want most for each other is to just see the other old and happy like- that becomes the foundation for their relationship. thats why it's namjoon who she thanks. it also doesn't escape me that yoongi is not in this chapter very much- this is intentional. just wait for next chapter and his anger! i swear its so fucking hot my god i really wanted them to fuck in the next chapter but i just don't think it's going to happen.

the og version of this chapter called for jimin parking hobi's car on the tracks and literally letting the train hit it- not derail- but just hit it. just to get it to stop for the m/c however i figured that was going a bit too far.

Me writing any part with jimin in it- "what if i added a bit of religious trauma to it?"

the line where namjoon talks about his hands hurting is like- directly related to me, because my hands didn't hurt all the time before i started writing bily but now my Knuckles hurt almost every morning. After writing for more than an hour they hurt. i guess when you love something enough it hurts you lol i don't mind.

the "you want a lifetime with them" lines are mostly a callback to like...grey's anatomy. namjoon's charecter is LOOOSELY based on mcdreamy of course the whole...neurosurgeon thing and i am 3 seasons into a re-watch so~ you will have to tollerate that cringeworthy refrence~

i've always wanted to structure a chapter around the thud and thump of a heart and yeah!! i think did a few back but i wanted to do it again~

i don't think i was very subtle with the hoseok train station and the train ticket parts of the story like- i think i forshadowed pretty heavily that it was eventually going to be used but! i hope you liked the big reveal.

how did you guys like the cliffhanger? should i spoil it for you when i've always said that bily would get a happy ending????? i mean...come on... we all know hoseok's gonna be fast enough right?

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halstudandruz · 7 months

Text

Thigh or Nothing

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Matt Casey x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: Months after your breakup Matt loses his cool

Warnings: smut (18+), thigh riding, jealous!Matt, edging, swearing

A/N: Continuing to live in my happy world where all my boys are alive and still in Chicago 🫶

“I’m sorry, [Y/N]. We did all we could.” Connor broke the news to you and you could almost feel your heart breaking into two.

“Thanks Connor. I know you did.” You sighed, he gave you a sympathetic nod, picking three beer bottles up and heading back towards his table.

It was the cherry on top of your week. Which was without question the worst since you had become a paramedic 6 years prior. You shouldn’t have asked, you're not supposed to ask and how you felt right this second made the reason clear. Like your entire job was a waste. Which deep down obviously wasn’t true. The lives you saved had outweighed the lives lost, but that fact didn’t always matter. Not when you gave your blood, sweat, and tears to save a child who they would only end up losing on the table hours later. The less you knew of the outcome the better, you could at least pretend they all had a happy ending then. You were glad your partner hadn’t come out tonight. At least then she could live in the dark of the truth, one that you would never tell her. Swallowing the lump in your throat you gestured for Stella who was filling a glass with beer. She handed the beverage to a man at the other end of the bar making her way towards you.

“Can I get a shot? Surprise me, something strong.” You requested just as a body slid into the chair next to you. The only seat still available at the bar. Glancing to your left your stomach only tightened.

“Hey.” Your ex boyfriend gave you a genuine smile hanging his coat on the back of the stool.

“Well if it isn’t Matthew Casey.” The blonde to his left interrupted before you could answer. His attention quickly turned to a girl you recognized from the State Attorney’s office. How you didn’t realize she was sitting there before was beyond you. You had loathed her from the moment she tried to entice Matt into getting a drink when you were out of town after him and Severide had helped them with a case.

“Kaylee, hey how are you?” Matt greeted, and you could see the minute she turned her charm on, turning her body to face him, chest popping out slightly, eyelashes fluttering, and a soft smirk appearing on her lips. You would venture a guess that she had heard about your breakup somehow, not that she cared if he was in a relationship before. Stella appeared back in front of you.

“Yeah, make that two.” You sighed downing the tequila.

“[Y/N].” Stella warned glancing over to Matt and Kaylee who were now laughing. She was your best friend which meant she was also in charge of nixing your bad decisions when it was warranted.

“Just one more.” You looked at her pleading, she knew what a rough week it had been and you knew she was looking out for you but right now you didn’t care. She shook her head grabbing a bottle to fill the shot glass in front of you. “Thank you.” You nodded after feeling the burn down your throat a second time. You could feel Matt’s side eye and chose to ignore it for the better.

Thirty minutes later the shots were beginning to buzz in your bones only furthering your irritation when you watched Kaylee lean whispering into Matt’s ear.

“Hey.” A voice over your shoulder caused you to jump.

“What’s up?” You forced a smile at Severide. You and Severide had become close friends throughout the years mostly due to the grief of losing your partner and his best friend, sticking by each other’s sides through the thick of it, always having him nearby was a comfort.

“Just wanted to check in on you.” He sat down in the seat beside you that had been vacated 10 minutes ago. The one you were about to move to hoping it would lessen your ability of hearing Kaylee’s dare you say pathetic flirting.

“Yeah, I’m good!” You nodded, high pitched voice a little excessive. Were you coping super well? Not exactly. Trying to dissociate tragedies was supposed to come natural to you, just like everyone else in the firehouse and normally you could maybe, but Chicago seemed to implode this week and despite all your best efforts you were fighting a losing battle on almost all occasions. That’s the reason you asked Connor about the little boy from this morning expecting a good report and your spirits to be raised only to be shocked at the truth.

“Mhmm,” he raised an eyebrow glancing over your shoulder at his best friend’s back, “I’m sure that’s true.”

“It’s just like.. does he have to do it right here.” You rolled your eyes, whispering to Kelly, for no good reason since Matt was clearly so enthralled in conversation he wouldn’t have heard you anyway.

“Payback is a bitch, [Y/L/N].” Kelly chuckled, eliciting confusion to appear on your face.

“What does that even mean?” You tried to take a drink before realizing your glass had nothing but ice left, “Gallo,” you summed the dark haired man over holding your drink up.

“You know, [Y/N], I get off early tonight.” Gallo filled your glass wiggling his eyebrows which earned a laugh from Severide. Blake was cute, adorable actually. The kind of guy that would fall at a woman’s feet, make her wonder why she ever spent her life with any other loser. Not someone you wasted a quick hookup on, and right now that’s all you wanted.

“Yeah buddy, see how well that plays out for you.” Severide wore a smug grin, which annoyed you just because he was skilled at getting girls in bed with him didn’t mean he could make fun of the poor kid.

“Ritter gonna be out tonight? Cause I tend to get loud.” You lowered your voice head cocking to the side, a flirty grin appearing on your face, instantly causing redness to form around Blake’s cheeks as he slid the newly filled glass towards you.

“God knows that’s the truth.” Severide huffed, taking a drink of his beer, and your head whipped to him, a scowl appearing.

“Oh fuck you, I had to deal with your hookups on god knows what surfaces for practically a year straight so hush,” You shoved him, you and Matt hadn’t exactly lived together, but you might as well have. You stayed with him practically every night off and since Severide was his roommate he may have been unfortunate enough to be subjected to your pleasure induced sounds every once in a while. “And don’t act like you didn’t like it.” You teased.

Gallo coughed around the drink of water he had just taken, obviously taken back.

You had considered continuing the charade until you heard Kaylee ask Matt if his place was close. Stomach clenching at the words you moved quickly to take a drink, too quickly apparently as the drink ended up in Matt’s lap instead of in your mouth.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry!” Heat immediately surfaced on your face. You truly didn’t mean to knock your full glass into Matt’s lap. The adrenaline from your jealousy mixed with everything else that week had you completely flustered and the cup slipped right out of your hand, but you knew from the outside looking in it would never look that way.

You could hear Kaylee scoff, looking up to see her roll her eyes dramatically. “Matt I didn’t-“ You flushed taking a single napkin trying and failing to help the mess at all.

“[Y/N], it’s fine. I just..I’ll be back.” He waved you off, stepping towards the bathroom.

“That was convenient.” Kaylee commented harshly, taking a sip of her martini.

“Believe me you don’t want to go there tod-“ You began to stand up, but beside you Kelly squeezed your knee keeping you put.

“Hey, it's not worth it. Trust me.” He encouraged, prompting you to shut up. Was it a good idea to get into a cat fight with an attorney? Probably not, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t tempting.

“Yeah, thanks. I’m going to go check on Casey.” You patted him on the shoulder heading towards the bathroom, throwing the blonde a glare.

“Matt?” You knocked on the door as a warning before pushing it open. The hand dryer on the wall was loudly whirring as he stood underneath it, the handle pointed at his crotch as best as it could be.

“I’m not mad,” he started the minute you appeared in front of the door, “I know you’ve had a rough week and don’t like her and you have every right not to, but-“ at his words your jaw almost dropped to the ground cutting him off.

“You’re not actually implying I did that on purpose.” You scoffed in disbelief, he knew you better than that.

“What am I supposed to think? It was pretty convenient timing, and I watched you down two shots the moment she started talking to me.” He laid his line of thinking out, and it was fair. Did you love seeing Kaylee flirt with him? Not for a single second. Were you trying to get trashed tonight? Absolutely. But regardless you would never do that to him.

“Fuck you, Matt. We both know we do what we need to in order to get through some weeks and sometimes that includes alcohol.” You defended, your face was beginning to heat up in anger at the accusation escalating. Not to mention you were far from drunk.

“Does that include hooking up with your superiors?” He quipped, making your heart drop at the realization he knew what the last few months held for you after your split.

“How do you know about that?” Panic took hold of your chest. Nobody was supposed to know, it could be really bad for both of you if anyone had found out about you and Hawkins.

“I have my sources.” He blew you off, once again hitting the hand dryer on the wall aiming his other thigh at it now. You weren’t dumb you knew exactly who his sources were, and Stella was gonna get an ear full later. She should know full well that anything that goes into her boyfriend’s ears will undoubtedly be in his best friend’s soon after. You and Kelly might’ve been close but he had an obvious loyalty to his partner in crime, “I’m just saying I haven’t felt the need to cause drama anytime you’ve left with Evan or your pick of the night.” His voice was raised even as the dryer dwindled to a stop.

“So, you’re slut shaming me now then? Is that what we’re doing?” You crossed your arms against your chest getting defensive

“Oh, come on [Y/N]. You know I’d never do that. Have all the sex you want, with whoever you want. It’s none of my business. I’d just request that you don’t let your ego cockblock me next time I’m trying to do the same.” He bit back. You knew he was right. He would never actually slut shame you and the accusation was a low blow, but the alcohol was causing annoyance to course throughout your body. Only heightened the second you watched him lean closer to the attorney.

“My ego? Really?” You laughed, humorously.

“Yes, your ego. You were jealous. Go ahead and admit it,” he encouraged and you rolled your eyes refusing to do as he asked, “you think I like watching you leave here with guys wrapped around your finger? I don’t at all, but at least I can admit it.” He took a paper towel from the dispenser. You had no idea why he was furiously dabbing at the mess, it was pretty clear the wreckage was cleaned as much as it possibly could be.

“This is ridiculous.” You huffed, the conversation was going absolutely nowhere. On a normal everyday basis you and Matt had been pretty good at putting your breakup on the back burner. Having to work with each other wasn’t always easy, but you both were handling it well with dignity and respect. Tonight, on the other hand, was different. Tempers were beginning to flare, and filters were flying out the window. All you were trying to do was offer him a genuine apology, but all you were getting in return was underhanded comments. “The only thing I came in here to do was take responsibility and apologize for an accident. I don’t know what your problem is.” You did not foresee this turning into a fight when you got up.

“You are!” He exclaimed, jaw tightening.

“Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?” Your emotions were beginning to boil. This made sense though. Your split was pretty amicable. Too afraid to say something and regret it later. Only having to face it every other day for the rest of your life, but maybe you were being too cautious. Maybe things needed to be said. Maybe mistakes needed to be made.

“You are,” he reiterated, stepping closer to you finally lowering his voice, “do you know how goddamn hard it’s been to see you leave here every week with a different guy? To hear that you’re fucking Hawkins when you’re all that’s still on my mind?” His voice was quivering and it took you a minute to adjust to the sudden change in tension. Surprised at his admission. You had never seen Matt like this. Even when you were together if someone had hit on you or overstepped their bounds he would kindly and calmly inform them that you were taken. Just as you would expect Matt Casey to. But this was something else. Months of built up jealousy, unable to do or say anything about it apparently taking a toll. His hand was gripping the sink so hard his knuckles were pure white, an anguished look in his eyes as he thought about it, and it was undeniably sexy. “I know that I have no right, but good lord, [Y/N]. It is slowly kill-“ You couldn’t even allow him to say another word. You were certain if you didn’t get your hands on him within the second you were going to burst into flames, gripping his face tightly, quickly molding his lips to yours. The rhythm was quick to find, familiarity not too far gone.

It didn't take Matt very long to take advantage of the kiss, pushing you back a few steps against the nearest wall, forcing his tongue into your mouth. Your hand found its way to the hair at the back of his neck threading your fingers through it. It was intense, fire quickly spreading through your body, slotting your hips against his leg, hips moving in desperation.

“Look at you, so fucking desperate. Like you haven’t been fucked right in months.” Matt’s hand rested on your ass encouraging the movement, lips moving down your neck.

It was true. Right after you and Matt had broken up you began frequenting bars, joining hookup apps, going home with a different guy multiple times a week. The problem was nobody matched up to him. There were some decent ones and some really sucky ones too, only concerned about how fast they could get there, skipping foreplay almost entirely, but no matter what without fail it always ended with you craving your ex. The only one to even slightly quench your thirst was your boss, Evan Hawkins so an occasional hookup may or may not have happened. What Matt clearly didn’t know is the agreement you two had, had recently come to an end after learning of a friend’s interest in the Chief. Leading to those hookups to become extinct over a month ago. So, whatever he was offering you were willing to take it without hesitation.

His teeth nipping at your collarbone only furthered your need allowing him to push you down harder on his leg. Leaning closer into him you took ahold of his hand that was gripping your hip trying to move it under your skirt.

“Uh uh uh,” He resisted, “it’s my thigh or nothing, baby.” He wore a cocky smirk, only growing the second you whined a quiet,

“Matt.” A defeated, pleading look appearing in your eyes. While his attitude was angering you slightly, only wanting to reach a high right this second, and you had no doubt his fingers could do exactly that, you couldn't deny how hot this was and how his ultimatum only furthered the wetness building between your legs.

“Show me how bad you need it, princess, but try not to be too loud there is an entire bar of our coworkers 50 feet away.” His thigh tightened as if he was wanting you to go against his warning, a strangled moan on the tip of your tongue, body getting as close to you as he possibly could so his smell engulfed you, a smell you missed having wrapped around you more than you thought.

You whimpered into his neck pushing your hips down harder, and you could feel him steadily growing against your hip. “You’re so beautiful you know that?” He complimented both hands moving to your ass encouraging you to speed up your movements, the friction from the denim winding a coil in your stomach. Your fingers clawed at his biceps looking for as much contact as possible. Head falling back against the wall, your eyes closing tightly, your breathing was starting to speed up shakily with every grind of your hips.

“Matt, I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if it’s enough.” You admitted, the knot growing but only torturing you as you continued to rut against his leg, needy whimpers spilling from your mouth.

“Yes, you can. I know you can. You want me so bad? Make a mess on me first. Be a good girl.” Matt encouraged flexing the muscle in his thigh once again, dragging his teeth down the side of your throat stopping to bite behind your ear, one hand coming up to tweak your hardened nipple over your top and you finally snapped, a breathless moan falling from your lips as Matt helped work you through your high.

“Good thing you already fucked up my pants earlier or else I’d be pretty concerned about the mess you're leaving behind right now. Your panties are going to be ruined.” He wasn’t kidding, there was absolutely zero doubt he would have evidence of this encounter on his thigh if you stepped off right now. He was however wrong about one thing.

“Not wearing any.” You shrugged, letting your leg fall shakily from Matt’s hip.

“For fucks sake.” He groaned pupils flashing even darker, roughly gripping the back of your neck and pulling your lips back to his for a sloppy kiss.

“Yours? It’s closer.” You mumbled into his neck after pulling away to get a breath, biting it playfully. Nodding he stepped back to pull his phone out of his pocket to reserve an Uber and unsurprisingly there was indeed a dark spot staining his jeans, but all you were focused on was the bulge to the right of it, mouth watering contemplating dropping to your knees right there, missing the weight of his cock on your tongue, when he grabbed your hand.

“We’ll go out the back.” He gave you a quick kiss, opening the door to check for anyone before sneaking through the kitchen out into the cold, a car pulling up to the curb just as you made it around the building.

The minute you were in the Uber your mouth was back on his.

“Sorry to interrupt but I’m gonna need an address confirmation before you suck all the air outta his lungs, honey.” A nice older woman, joked from the driver's seat. Blushing you mumbled an apology putting some space between you two. Matt chuckled in amusement, confirming the address on the screen.

“Probably get a lot of this, this time of night huh?” Matt began a conversation hand resting teasingly high on your thigh.

“Absolutely, but I don’t mind. It’s nice to see young people having fun. It’s cliche but you really do only live once and y’all are in your prime years. They go faster than you think. So, as long as everyone is being safe and aren’t actually doing anything disrespectful in my backseat I don’t mind.” She smiled, kindly. The conversation continued for the remaining 5 minutes until she pulled in front of Matt’s apartment building. “Have a good night you two. Be safe.” She winked. Giggling you got out thanking her, approving of Matt’s 5 star review and generous tip once you made it in the elevator. Your hand was clasped in his, thighs involuntarily rubbing together at the tension, having to behave with all your might thanks to the elderly couple who accompanied you.

As soon as the door to his apartment was closed and your shoes were discarded his mouth was back on yours, stealing your breath at the need he conveyed. Untucking your top from the skirt it was discarded on the hardwood, tapping your thighs you took the hint allowing him to wrap your legs around him walking you to his bedroom. It had been the first time you had been back in the apartment since the breakup. Heart aching as your mind flashbacked to Matt swallowing harshly, blinking back his tears, in an attempt to put on a strong front as you walked out.

Luckily, you were quickly teleported back to the present once your back hit his bed, allowing him to pull his shirt off in one movement.

You would never not stare, never could not stare at a shirtless Matt Casey. You had made it a point not to be near him in the locker room recently because it just was not a power you possessed. Not sure how it was a power anyone could possess as your eyes raked over his broad chest, his forearms and hands causing your hips to wiggle slightly. He didn’t let you gaze long though, bending to attack your bare chest. Hand moving between your thighs to learn you weren’t lying earlier, a groan escaping him at the finding. His lips laid kisses all over your breasts, fingers moving to trail down your slit hips immediately jumping.

“So needy.” His free hand squeezed your hip forcing it down, just as he pressed a finger in slowly you let out a deep sigh. It wasn’t enough, you needed more immediately.

“More..” You requested as he curled his finger just right putting more pressure against your waist when your pelvis fought to jerk forward. Obliging, he added a second finger increasing the speed. Your body was begging you to work for it, wanting to rock your hips down to ride his hand but his strong hold was preventing it. A groan fell from your lips the minute his thumb met your clit rubbing soft circles.

“You wanna come on my fingers?” He whispered in your ear, biting it softly. You were breathing heavily, quickly nodding your head yes in response. Your walls clenching when he crooked his fingers once again, so damn close, when he pulled away from you.

“Matt, what the fuck?” You whimpered, squirming under his lustful gaze.

“I don’t think you’re ready yet.” He brushed you off, but the glint in his eye proved how much he enjoyed this and it was clear you were in for a long night, leaning forward he pulled your last piece of clothing down your legs roughly tugging you towards the edge of the bed by your ankles, ending on his knees between your legs, and it was a sight to behold. One of your favorites if you were being honest. You were taken back at the lack of teasing the minute Matt shoved his mouth into your pussy, tongue darting out to lick your clit, a wail echoing from your lips, “You taste so damn good, forever my favorite meal, baby.” He praised nipping the sides of your thighs when his finger circled your entrance once again filling you. You directed all your focus towards keeping quiet as the knot grew tighter with every movement, hoping if you didn’t give him any sign of how close you were you could trick him into letting you come, hands twisted tight in the sheets when he sucked your clit finger curling to hit your sweet spot, but at the last second he pulled away, ripping you back from the brink once again.

“Fuck!” You huffed, hand punching the sheets, Matt chuckled above you,

“You’re so cute thinking I don’t know your body like the back of my hand.” And okay while this sucked, cocky Matt was intoxicating.

He edged you three more times and you were so wound up you feared the second he got in you, you would burst. You were physically panting, tears covering the sheets under your head.

“Matt-please. I’ll fucking call Hawkins right now.” You bargained, and despite the jealously that flashed deeper on his face he grinned smugly.

“You think threatening me right now is a good idea?” His eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know! I just need something, anything please.” Your thighs squeezed together begging for friction. Your eyes traveled down the man’s body, hardness in his jeans more than evident and you reached out towards him, missing the feeling of him in your hand, getting to watch his face scrunch in pleasure with just a flick of your wrist, but he caught your hand.

“Tonight’s about you baby, and making you wonder why you’d ever want someone else to put their dick in you.” He winked, his words actually surprised you. He was never this territorial over you, but it lit an even bigger fire inside of you. “Tell me what you want.” He ordered hands resting against the edge of the bed.

“You, right now. Anyway you’ll give it to me.” You wasted no time in answering, batting your eyelashes.

Smiling he finally pulled his jeans and boxers down allowing the bulge in his pants room breathe, tip red and dripping, moving to hover on top of you, he teased his cock through your wetness appreciating the way your cheeks flushed, his pupils dark not allowing you much time to drool, “Condom?” He asked, seemingly forgetting until this point not used to having to use them with you since you were on birth control, “I’m sure Severide has some.” You could see the hurt in his eyes from having to ask, and it made your heart ache in turn, but you shook your head,

“I’ve made everyone else wear one.” You explained, hooking your legs around his hips and his relief was obvious.

“Ready?” He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your forehead, a welcoming softness in a tension filled room.

“God, yes.” You wiggled your hips attempting to angle him in.

At the confirmation Matt thrusted deep into you pulling a gasp out of you at the roughness. You could vividly remember the first time Matt and you had sex. Gentle, intimate, loving after years of longing and avoiding the inevitable between you two. Completely different than right now. You wouldn’t be surprised if tomorrow you found marks from the Captain’s fingers around your hips pulling you towards him feverishly, everytime his dick thrusted forward into you, and it was exactly what you needed. It took a whole two seconds for you to fill the room with moans, allowing him to manhandle you from the start. He maneuvered your legs from his hips to his shoulders enabling him to go deeper, screaming when he thrusted his hips the perfect way, “Matt-oh my god,“ your body was tightening embarrassingly fast.

“Yeah, baby?” He gritted, and you were extremely impressed at how well he was keeping his composure tonight.

“You’re so fucking good.” You complimented through ragged breaths, eyes tightly shutting at the growing pressure.

“Go and fuck whoever you want, but you’re always gonna end up back here, baby. Cause nobody can fuck this pussy better than me, huh? Tell me I’m right baby girl, you don’t come until you do.” He bargained, pulling out so just the tip was in you, slowing down his thrusts. You didn’t want to give in, to give him the satisfaction regardless of it being the truth, but based on how he was acting tonight you really believed if you didn’t confirm his suspicions he wouldn’t let you come, and you just might actually die if that was the case. Literally whining, tears springing to your eyes, your feet dug into his shoulders in an attempt to make him go deeper. So fucking close, your muscles hurt from the strain of being so tightly wound time and time again, “Sweetheart, I can come just like this right now if you want me to. Be like every other guy you’ve been with recently. Is that what you want?” His tone was dripping in arrogance and his shallow thrusts were successfully torturing you. How this side of him could be completely infuriating but completely erotic at the same time was beyond your comprehension at the moment. You had never been so distraught, allowing your pride to go out the window without a second thought.

“Matt-“ you felt the tears starting to run down your face, “please. It’s you- it’s yours. Need you, always need you. Please let me come.” Your breathing was ragged, hips doing their best to entice him closer, pull him in on their own accord.

“Good girl.” He praised leaning down to kiss the tears away softly, “you’re so damn pretty.” He smiled genuinely, studying your features.

“Fuck me, Captain.” You smirked, although enjoying the snippet of fluff. Laughing, Casey returned to his previous position.

“Remember you asked for it.” He teased throwing you a wink before flipping you over on your stomach, ramming into you harder this time. The bunch of nerves you had felt plenty of times tonight already quickly returning full force, Matt was finally starting to lose his cool, grunts falling from his lips.

“Fuck, [Y/N].” Looking over your shoulder you could see his eyes were between your legs intently watching where you two met, a sight you wish you had the ability to see.

“Matt-“ a broken sob fell from your lips, “so close.” You were attempting to move your hips with his but the brutal pace he had set was hard to match. He wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you up against his chest. Pressing the fingers from his right hand against your clit, rubbing soft circles.

“Go ahead, gorgeous.” He encouraged into your ear kissing the back of your neck, seconds later your body practically convulsed finally letting go, back arching off into his chest, a loud moan echoing in the room. Matt having to hold you up completely as you worked through your high. He followed soon after filling you with warmth every time his dick twitched. A feeling you missed more than you’d like to admit.

You lay in silence after collapsing on the mattress, legs shaking, Casey’s head dug into your neck trying to resurrect his breath, heart beating rapidly against your back. The intensity finally dwindling, causing an unwelcome sob to break out of you at the sudden change of environment. Matt’s head shot up at the sound.

“Hey hey hey, what’s wrong? I’m sorry, was it too much?” Matt’s body went rigid concern lighting his eyes, as he took your face between his hands.

“No, not at all. It was incredible. I’m sorry, I’m being ridiculous.” You tried to brush him off, a wet laugh coming out, attempting to get out from under him and off the bed.

“No, come here. Talk to me.” He repositioned you so you were now laying on top of him against his chest. Holding you tightly.

“It’s just…I’ve had the most terrible week. Truly awful and all I’ve wanted, all I’ve craved every single day was a Matthew Casey hug.” You sniffed, shaking your head embarrassingly. His arms tightened around you at your confession, dropping a kiss against your head, and the familiarity did exactly as you assumed it would, tension releasing from your body, relaxation taking over in its place.

“Baby, I’ll I’ve wanted to do this week is give you a hug. I’m right here. I’m always right here. No matter what, I’m yours, baby, and I will wait however long it takes for you to come back to me and realize that I’m the guy for you.” His hand was trailing soothingly up and down your back.

“I’m just scared, Matt.” You had never given him a true reason for leaving, claiming you just didn’t know if you felt right in a relationship at the time.

“Of what?” He asked.

“Having to watch you run into burning buildings has never been my favorite regardless of how good you look in bunker gear, but..after Otis it’s just been unbearable, and I just thought maybe if I broke it off it would get easier. It would just feel uneasy like with Kelly or Stella rather than crippling.” You explained, emotions getting the better of you as you thought back to losing Otis and having to watch Katie crumble.

Chloe had the same thoughts and luckily for Cruz she learned to accept it, but she also didn’t have to physically witness it. She didn’t have to worry every time Boden’s face ticked with concern when he didn’t like something. Didn’t have to count down the seconds waiting for him to reappear in the smoke when Boden pulled them. Didn’t have to beg your shaking hands to stay steady and focus on the patient when you heard an accidental pass alarm.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me this?” His voice was so calm, so full of sympathy.

“What were you gonna do, Matt?” He wasn’t going to stop being a firefighter and you’d never want him to.

“I don’t know.” He admitted, “Has it worked?” It was a question he didn’t want to ask, but one he needed an answer to.

“Far from it,” you shook your head swallowing more tears, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it, losing Otis, watching everyone fall apart maybe it’s something I need to talk to someone about, but regardless it’s just made me realize god forbid something did happen I’d be so pissed I didn’t spend everyday with you that I could. I love you with my entire being Matthew Casey, and I think it’s pretty clear that’ll never stop.” You finally looked up at him.

“This is the dick lust talking isn’t it?” He joked after a beat of silence allowing you to laugh, smacking him in the chest. “I promise I will do everything I can to always come out for you.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear closing his eyes to kiss you on the head.

“I think jealous Matt is my new favorite Matt.” You grinned eyes sparkling.

“Hawkins is just lucky his face is still intact.” He growled, only confirming your new opinion.

“I’m hungry.” You attempted to steer off the topic, accompanied by your stomach rumbling.

“We did put in quite a workout.” Matt joked kissing your cheek, “I can order some pizza let me just see if Severide is home.” He jumped up to put a pair of sweatpants on, throwing you a Chicago Fire sweatshirt of his basking in his scent overwhelming you.

“God bless him if he is.” You winced thinking back to his comment in the bar earlier. Throwing the piece of clothing on as Matt disappeared into the hallway.

Two minutes later the man in question appeared in your doorway, arms crossed against his chest, a cocky look on his face.

“You seriously need to learn these walls aren’t soundproof.” He quipped, forcing a blush on your cheeks.

“You know what? You had to have seen the trail of clothes when you got home you knew what you were getting into.” You defended, shrugging.

“I’m just kidding, I got home like two minutes ago. Figured I’d give you some time when neither of you happened to come back to the bar.” He laughed when you rolled your eyes, walking to sit on the bottom of the bed, “I’m sorry for telling him about Hawkins by the way. I was just trying to kick his ass into gear.”

“Alright, it’s ordered, 35 minutes.” Matt announced as he reappeared in the room, climbing back into his bed beside you pulling you into his side.

“Casey, your girl almost took down an attorney today. Who by the way wasn’t very happy when you never returned.”

It was a perfect end to a not so perfect week.

#Matt Casey #matthew casey #matt casey imagine #matt casey smut #matt caseyxreader #mattcaseyxreader #matt casey x reader #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire x reader

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areislol · 1 year

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helloo! just wanna say that your writing is so good! could i request neteyam(or the sully kids), lo'ak and tsu'tey with fem! reader who's on her period? how would they deal with the bleeding and react? thank you ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

sully kids, tsu'tey x human! reader

ft— neteyam, lo’ak, kiri, tuk, tsu'tey warnings— mentions of blood, inappropriate language(sperm, etc.), might be ooc? can be seen as platonic/romantic for neteyam/lo'ak. tsu'tey and reader are dating/the female na’vi’s do not menstruate, fluff!! not proof read but i will later, hopefully. a/n— tysm anon! i've been thinking about the boys with reader who's on her period and then this request comes in, thank you!! also spider isn’t in here because.. no. i’m sorry to everybody who wanted him in here. anything with tsu’tey in it is in avatar 2, he’s still alive. unless you request or i write it during avatar 1. synopsis— when your period arrives, they are curious and scared about why you're bleeding from that area, you explain to them about the female anatomy.

"Wait... so you bleed from there every month?" they asked, you nod.

they stare at you in disbelief, mouth wide open and eyes bugged, you chuckle from their reaction, “so what do you have to do to stop the bleeding?”

you pull out a thick cloth from your satchel and fold it until it’s the right size. “this.” you say while holding it up

they exchange glances at the piece of cloth and you, when they don’t say anything and just continue to stare at the cloth and then at you, you sigh before speaking.

“i put it under where the blood comes from, and then i wash the cloth and reuse. if i can’t then i just get another cloth and then do the same thing, understand now?”

they squint their eyes, unsure of what to make of this, determined to make them understand you decide to teach them the (human) female anatomy.

sully kids x human! reader

Kiri, tuk and lo’ak were talking to each other, wondering what you were going to be teaching them, neteyam on the other hand, watched you as you walk around to find a stick to use, his eyebrows raises when he sees you running toward where the group was, a stick in your hand. Once you reach them you sit down beside kiri, using the stick, you start to draw a human body on the sand, a very poorly drawn human body, well at least what resembles a body anyway. Everybody leaned in closer to look at your drawing, “hm.. okay! so this is the part where the blood comes from,” you say, pointing to the lower part of the body in between the legs, “okay?”, they nod, kiri and neteyam look at you which prompts you to go on. ”So this area...”, pointing at the uterus, “is the uterus, correct?” you ask, when they nod you start to draw lines coming out of the uterus and out of the part(v). “This is the period.” you say, pointing at the lines. “So every month a female starts her period which should only last for a week, the uterus lining, which is like tissue from our uterus, shreds because the egg hasn’t been fertilized.” Upon hearing the last sentence everybody raised their eyebrows. ”What egg? do you have a egg in you?!” tuk questions, worry filled her voice, she almost faints. You found it hilarious that she thought that, then neteyam and lo’ak also asked if you had an egg in you and if you were okay, you could see the worry on their faces, shaking your head you giggled, lo’ak stared at you in disbelief, why were you laughing at this serious matter? ”No no, not a literal egg. it’s like a small little thing in our ovary, it’s one of the main things that you need to get pregnant. Once the.. sperm reaches the egg, the egg gets fertilized and you know, you get pregnant!”, once you were done talking you noticed how they all look dazed, their smiles faltering, like they didn’t understand, but you could understand. I mean, you were quite literally saying words that they didn’t understand. Sooner or later after you stopped talking, they started to ask you questions, what is “sperm”? why is the female body so “complicated”? and such. Kiri and tuk would grimace, scrunching their face, even sticking out their tongue in disgust whenever you answered their or the others questions. Lo’ak and neteyam were both slightly disgusted but interested. You then go on to explain how some girls experience cramps and mood swings when on their period. Neteyam expressions seem to soften after hearing the problems that you, girls, have to go through, while lo’ak expressions seem to harden, why did you, girls, have to go through that? Tuk shivers when she hears you talk more about periods. They all were interested in periods, all paying extreme attention to what you had to say. Kiri laid her hand on your thigh, giving you a sorrowful look. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with all of that... i’m so glad that we don’t have to go through that.” Tuk nodded, agreeing with kiri’s statement. You placed your hand over kiri’s, giving her a gentle smile you spoke, “it’s fine kiri, honestly, i’ve had it for a long time now, i’m used to it.” You pulled your hand back, kiri doing the same. After a few seconds lo’ak’s eye widens, he was crouching down, but after something had popped into his mind he moved closer to you, still crouching. “How can we help you?”, his voice was serious yet it also sounded like he was worried. ”Hm, well there’s nothing you can do really, but i guess for period cramps something warm? having an extra cloth on you and listening to someone rambling and comforting them when they’re having mood swings.” you answer, putting on your thinking face. While you’re still thinking for more things, you dont realize that all the sully children are taking in what you’re saying and remembering, so next time you have cramps or is leaking they have everything prepared. Every example you give they’re taking notes mentally, Lo’ak asks you more questions so that he can be FULLY prepared when you’re on your period, especially when you’re early. Neteyam, kiri and tuk are nodding at everything you say, remembering what you’re talking about. Once you’re done explaining you notice that they are all eager to go off somewhere. They all looked like they wanted to be somewhere, right now. When you all say your goodbye’s neteyam is off to his marui, grabbing some spare cloths. Lo’ak is off to grab everything to make the “heat pad”, cloths and something soft and some sewing materials. Kiri and tuk both run off to ronal, the tsahìk to ask for some pain killers. ”Pain killers? and for what?” ronal spoke, raising her eyebrows, eyeing the two young girls. Kiri and tuk exchange looks and giggle before answering ronal, “nothing!” Ronal contemplates whether or not to give the pain killers to kiri and tuk but in the end she gives in. They would all fight for your thanks' and fight to help you really, an example, you’re sitting on a rock, your legs swaying in the water, the sully children are playing in the water, chasing each other in the water when you feel a sudden pain in your abdomen. It was your cramps, again. Sighing you reach into your satchel, putting your hands in the pocket you feel for your pain killers but after trying to grab nothing you looked into your bag, a look of devastation feel on your face. Neteyam heard your groans and whimpering, just a few feet away from where he and his siblings were. His head popped up from the water, gasping for air once he got up, he turned around to see where you were, once you were in his sight his face dropped, you were tightly hugging your waist, your eyes were closed shut, you mouth agape, groaning. Wasting no time he quickly swims to where you sat and hopped on the rock, looking up you see neteyam standing next to you, his eyes said everything. ”Are you okay? do you need anything? period cramps?” with his question you nod eagerly. Neteyam hurriedly rummaged through his satchel when he saw shadows in the water approaching you two, neteyam closed his satchel, he fiercely stood right next to you, fists balled just in case ao’nung and his gang were going to cause trouble to you and him. Once neteyam seems the familiar faces rising up and popping up and gasping for air he eased, “What’s wrong neteyam? you just left us- oh, y/n? are you okay?!” kiri rushed to you, climbing on the rock and sitting beside you, placing her hands on your shoulder, looking at tuk she nodded and tuk swam closer to you and sat on the rock with you, but before tuk could open her satchel neteyam interrupted her, “what are you doing?” Tuk paused, looking up at her older brother her lips curved into a smile, “just giving y/n some pain killers, why?”, tuk saw how neteyam glared at her, playfully if you can even call it that. “Was going to give her some too..” he mumbled, gripping your stomach you looked at neteyam and gave him a faint smile, giving tuk one as well. Lo’ak and kiri then hopped on the rock and started to question if you were okay, when you told them that your stomach hurt they both opened their satchels, they were about to grab the pain killers when they stopped. Everybody looked at each other with confusion, kiri and lo’ak smiled in mischief, both grabbing the pain killers and offering it to you. Neteyam stood beside you, watching his brother and sister offer their pain killers to you, he wanted to give you the pain killers that he had, to you, but he didn’t want to cause a scene so he let his siblings to their thing. Tuk frowned but after you gestured her to come sit closer to you her smile appeared, although she was wet, she was warm, and that made your stomach pain fade away slowly. While that was happening kiri and lo’ak were both arguing, saying that you should take her pain killers because she’s a girl, lo’ak gives her a look of confusion and disbelief. Lo’ak then went on that you should take his because he got it recently while kiri’s was probably a century old, which was of course, false. Neteyam sat down beside you and put his arm around you and tuk, pulling you closer to his body, and again, he was wet but still warm, so with the warmth of two people, warmth on your shoulder and warmth on your stomach you sighed in relief, stopping the bickering between kiri and lo’ak. They saw you with a smile on your face, eyes closed, tuk laying on your thighs, hugging your stomach while neteyam held you close, his arms around your shoulders with a smug look on his face when he sees the look of devastation on his sibling face. ”Good luck next time” neteyam states, pulling you even more close to him even though you two were practically in each others bubble. Kiri looked defeated, lo’ak frowned before sighing, “I’ll need it..” and with that he sat beside tuk, kiri following him and sitting beside lo’ak. Neteyam, lo’ak and kiri looked beyond the horizon, Neteyam hugging you closely while tuk slept on your lap. “We should get home, dad won’t like it if we’re out any later.” kiri suggests, lo’ak and neteyam simultaneously look at her, “no, y/n and tuk is resting, later.” Kiri rolls her eyes and huffs, standing up and jumping into the water to see the fishes, again.

tsu’tey x human! reader “What do you mean you bleed from there? are you hurt? should i call the tsahìk?” tsu’tey asks, worry filled his voice, “what? no! im fine, it’s normal.” you answer, holding back your laughter, he sounded way too serious for something that was normal, well, for humans anyway. Tsu’tey raises his eyebrow at you, giving you a small nod even though he wasn’t completely sure if you were okay but he trusted you, also since you were a human so your anatomy is different to his kind. You and tsu’tey stop talking for a bit before he breaks the silence with a question, “how do you deal with all of that? the.. ‘period’?” he asks, inching closer to where you sat. The first thing you thought of was the cloth, which was the replacement of a pad, humming you open your satchel and pull out a cloth, you then fold it until it’s the right size and hand it to tsu’tey, he was watching you with confusion written all over his face when he saw you grab your cloth. Tsu’tey takes the cloth from your hands and observes it, it looks normal, nothing is different other than the fact that you folded it. He looked at you, cloth in hand and doesn’t say anything, meaning that he’s confused. “Uh- so basically we just put it under our part.. so stop the bleeding from going everywhere.” you blurt out, with your answer tsu’tey nods, understanding you but not fully. You know that he doesn’t know much about the female body so you decide to teach him, reaching into your satchel you pull out your notebook and a pencil, you set the notebook down and move (even) closer to tsu’tey, you start to draw a human body, or what resembles a human body. “Okay, so this is our part, it’s called a “vagina”, that’s the proper way to say it, another way to say it is “pussy” but that also means cat.” you say, then you tell him to repeat what you said and he does so. You then point to where the uterus is, “this is our uterus, where the baby grows, the reason why we bleed is because our “egg” isn’t fertilized, so our uterus lining shreds, so we bleed because we don’t get pregnant and it’s like “oh! no sperm? might as well shred”.” Once you finish talking you look at tsu’tey looks overwhelmed with the information you’ve given him, to you it’s not a lot, but to him it’s a lot. Once tsu’tey calms down a bit, his brows furrowed before asking you a “serious” question, “do you have an egg in you?” he asks in a grave tone. He sounded too serious that you burst out laughing, while you’re laughing hysetrically he’s giving you a confused look before pouting, why were you laughing at his question? Tsu’tey puts his hand on your shoulder and tells you to calm down, in an attempt to calm you down, and you do. Once your laughter dies down you had to wipe your tears away, “now answer my question, do you have an egg in you? why?” and again, he says it in a serious tone that it almost makes you laugh again. Using all your will power you stop yourself from laughing and answer his question, you shook your head and once you do his shoulders rest as if he has been carrying something heavy on his shoulder. “They’re small things in our ovaries, we call them eggs. Without it we wouldn’t have any children.” Once you finish your comment tsu’tey gives you a nod and pulls his hand back. After explaining some things, like how some girls experience cramps which is when the stomach hurts, mood swings, when their mood changes very quickly, tsu’tey then asks if there was any way to reduce the pain or help the women, you give him a tender smile and answer his questions. While answering his questions, he’s mentally taking notes since he knows that you’re on your period and is taking notes so the next time you’re late or early he’s prepared, oh you don’t have any spare cloths? fret not! inside my satchel i have some cloths just for you! your stomach hurts? here my love, a handmade heat pad (it’s a cloth that’s sewed with something soft inside of it and was left out in the sun for hours) just for you. You also explain how some girls leak, meaning that their “pad” or cloth, couldn’t hold the bleeding (most times it’s heavy bleeding) and leaked, or the size wasn’t right or the absorbancy was poor. Everything you say, tsu’tey is taking notes, and when you tell him how some men get mad at their girlfriends for leaking he gets mad, like how could you get mad for someone who can’t even control something? Tsu’tey scoffs, he assures you that if you ever leaked he’d never get mad at you and would help you clean up, get you a new cloth and underwear if you feel too disgusted to walk, or if you can you can go get it. Once you hear him say that you give him a hug and you made sure to hug him tightly, kissing his cheek, “best boyfrien- no, mate, ever!!” you squeal. Smiling, he hugs you back while running his fingers through your hair, When you pull back your hands are still around his neck, his eyes are staring deep into yours, his yellow eyes with a hue of green never failed to make you awe, “i can say the same to you my love.” he states before pulling you into a kiss. To say the least, he definitely praises and respects women even more now, since you women carry babies and deal with all this nonsense.

note: if you would like to be added to the avatar taglist pls just ask me!! dont be shy <3

taglist: @winnithepoohh @nerbyrobotics

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!

another note: im going on a cruise with my friends and family on jan 8th to jan 13th so i wont be writing for 5 days, literal hell. enjoy!! also i have others coming up to stay tuned bb.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

#avatar x reader #neteyam x reader #lo'ak x reader #tsu'tey x reader #atwow #avatar the way of water #kiri #tuk

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onyourowndaisymae · 1 year

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hiii could i request a fic/headcannon thingy with the OM brothers and the dateables trying to impress the mc's older sibling? tysm have a great day :))))))

obey me characters meeting and trying to impress your older sibling

hi anon! i hope this request is what you were looking for! i tried to keep it in character for who would actually try to impress your sibling vs. who would just roll with the punches and see what happens. i hope you enjoy!

prompt: you're hanging out alone one night with your partner. a knot twists in your gut. you know he can tell something is wrong, but it seems he's waiting for you to say something first. eventually, you crack, sitting him down in preparation for what you've got to say. he watches you nervously twist your fingers together for a moment before finally speaking your mind.

"do you think you could... meet my older sibling?"

you fill him in on all the details, explaining how your sibling has grown more and more insistent the longer you've been together. he laughs and asks why you were so nervous. well, you see, your sibling isn't exactly the most friendly with anyone you've dated in the past, and you're a little nervous they might, y'know... hate your boyfriend?

Lucifer

interesting.

well, it's not like he's going to worry about it. lucifer has been alive for millennia, met more people than he can count. he is absolutely certain that your sibling will like him. he'll be on his best behavior, bring a gift for good measure, show them just how committed you are to each other. it'll be easy.

at least, that's what he tells himself to stop the incoming stress migraine.

this proud demon needs your older sibling to like him. it's not like they have any say in the relationship, sure, but what if their opinion sways yours? what if your sibling disapproves of him, and you yourself slowly start to grow tired the flaws your sibling finds in him?

he swings from cocky to stress-addled every day until he finally meets your sibling. behind his stoic face, his nerves are starting to get the better of them-- mammon catches him before you both depart and gives him a quiet pep talk to soothe his anxieties. somehow, it works.

but lucifer didn't need any help either way. at the end of the day, the morningstar is a perfect gentleman. he's amazing with your sibling-- attentive, polite, even a bit funny when the mood strikes-- and by the end of the night, your sibling praises your choice in partner. there's a massive weight gone from both of your shoulders as you return to the devildom hand-in-hand.

... not that he was nervous or anything in the first place.

Mammon

he's the great mammon! of course they'll like him! no, his hands aren't shaking, he's just... cold! yeah! it's freezing over here! look over there-- he's totally not distracting you from that terrified look on his face, because the great mammon is not scared of anything!

lies. he's terrified.

he knows that he's a scumbag. as much as he denies it when his brothers toss around insults, he knows there's a long list of flaws written for him and him alone. you, in your infinite kindness and love, might have grown to overlook them. but your sibling? nah, he couldn't sell himself twice. your sibling is going to see right through him.

but the great mammon is not going to give up without trying, hell no! cue an absurd training montage as mammon tries to prepare himself for this meeting. he won't let you see what he's doing-- shoo! shoo! you'll throw him off! you're gonna be so impressed, babe, you'll swoon when you see how cool he is!

the loud music and louder crashing noises coming from behind his locked door do not make you feel any better.

mammon's saving grace is this strange charisma he has. it's what got you interested in him from the beginning, despite his bad attitude and mixed signals. it's honestly what's kept him alive thus far-- if he wasn't charming in his odd, mammon-ish sort of way, there's no way lucifer wouldn't have chopped him up and sold his bones to make furniture by now.

he spends the night trying to impress your sibling in grand, over-the-top ways. this, in and of itself, is charming. it's like watching an enthusiastic puppy wipe out on the hardwood and get up to try again over and over, never once losing the childish optimism behind its big, dumb eyes. at least, that's how your sibling described it.

they ultimately develop a pitying fondness of mammon. he's trying so hard that you can't help but find it endearing, y'know?

Leviathan

this man is scared. shitless.

levi tries to get out of it, then gets mad at himself for being a bad partner, then spirals and thinks they won't like him anyways, then worries that you're going to break up with him because his sibling will hate you and think you're too good for him-- he agrees, but still, he can't bear to see you go--

you're going to have to talk him off the ledge of an impending panic attack at this point. remind him that regardless of what your sibling thinks, you love him. it calms him just enough to get through the rest of the conversation.

honestly, it would be wise of you to wait until closer to the meeting to invite levi, because every single day since your conversation is a unique form of emotional hell for him. he's grieving a relationship that hasn't even ended yet-- he's just certain he's going to screw things up with your sibling.

lucifer has to step in at some point and have a talk with him to make sure he doesn't, y'know... explode into a million pieces in the hallway at RAD or something. he gives him some advice on how to make a good first impression and sends him on his way. that poor guy is so anxious that it's starting to wear off on other members of the house.

when the day finally comes, levi makes absolutely certain that he is as presentable as possible. freshly showered, surprisingly well-dressed (well, by levi standards), and ready to get this over with.

he's... stiff at first, no doubt. he's honestly starting to give your sibling the wrong impression...

somehow, some way, an interest of levi's comes up. maybe it's an anime he likes, or some obscure sea creature he knows a lot about, or something else entirely. but a switch flips in him. leviathan lights up the room as he passionately rambles about whatever interest of his is the current topic.

your sibling, with their initial negative impression of him, ultimately approves after he stops being so damn awkward. it's not like they bite, y'know?

Satan

satan takes your worries in stride and assures you that everything will work out in the end. he feels an unfamiliar hum of what must be anxiety in his chest, but he puts it aside to keep the conversation going.

he addresses a lot of his anxieties with logic. he is smart, well-spoken, attractive... there shouldn't be much about him that puts your family off. yet why does he still feel on edge?

poor thing has yet to learn that many emotions, like love and anxiety, are at times completely and utterly irrational.

he goes to his safe space-- books-- for help. he revisits his favorite "meeting the family" moments in his library and uses those for inspiration. these scenes in the books are never awkward. the protagonist is always suave and perfect, walking through every social situation with practiced grace. that's the energy he aims to channel into meeting your sibling for the first time.

he does his best primping to make sure he feel confident enough to make it through the night. there's a good chance he'll have to shoo asmodeus away, who just adores watching his older brother get all dressed up for a date! satan's just a little embarrassed by the amount of effort he puts in. he's trying to seem effortlessly charming, y'know? anyone knowing just how much work he put in really ruins the effect.

he relaxes a bit when you're by his side. it's a good reminder what this evening is really all about-- you, being proud enough of him as your partner to introduce you to your family. regardless of how things go, you're the most important part of this whole thing.

what can i say, he's charming! satan's very well-spoken and down to earth. your sibling likes him a lot, commenting that you and (the fake name you gave satan, since, y'know, his name is satan) your partner seem like a wonderful pair. he has to agree himself, too.

there's a chance that you might hear them doting over you if you exit the room-- nothing brings people together quite like the things they love.

Asmodeus

asmodeus laughs in the face of this challenge. ha! ha ha! silly you, don't you remember how charming he is? no need to worry, mc. he'll win them over in no time.

asmo needs everyone to like him so much, all the time. this is especially true for your older sibling. clearly they mean a lot to you, otherwise you wouldn't be so nervous about this upcoming dinner. he can't imagine a world where he doesn't win your sibling's heart by the end of the night.

he's genuinely not worried about it in the slightest... until someone makes an unassuming little jab at him. he's telling everyone about the dinner he's so looking forward to, boasting about how he'll have your sibling wrapped around his finger by the end of the night for sure.

maybe it's mammon tossing in a snarky "let's hope they don't find you obnoxious", or satan mumbling a "oh yes, because charming a family member to make them like you is totally boyfriend material", or even levi mumbling something about how people don't usually find narcissism very likeable. regardless of who makes the comment or what it actually is, it cuts deep.

now. we know asmo. under that thick, thick layer of narcissism is someone who is deeply vulnerable, scared, and terrified of rejection. doubt starts to creep in. is asmodeus himself all charm, no substance? do people not actually like him? are all of his accomplishments a product of manipulation?

he decides one night, in a quiet, tear-stained panic, that he will not charm your sibling. he will show them the most genuine version of himself he can muster and hope that it's enough for them-- that it's enough for you.

even without his powers, asmodeus passes your sibling's test with flying colors. he genuinely just likes being around people, and they like him too-- even when he's not using his powers, he still has this magnetic charm that makes you fond of him. this is especially true when he's not putting up airs or going the extra mile to make everyone swoon over him like usual.

there's a massive weight lifted off his shoulders as your sibling bids you both farewell and asks to do this sort of thing again sometime soon. that's approval, baby!

when the evening is over, you best believe he is absolutely going home to rub his success in his brothers' faces. serves them right for making him worry!

Beelzebub

immediately very nervous about the food situation. in the devildom, he can eat whatever he wants. but on earth?? he can't!! what if he gets you kicked out of somewhere, or his stomach starts growling, or, or--

you have to reassure him that you've got a backup plan in case of emergency, and that you'll make sure he doesn't starve. after all, you don't have the funds to clean up a mess like that on earth. only with your reassurance can he focus on what the meeting actually entails.

family is everything to beelzebub. he's honestly really happy that you love him enough to introduce him to yours. so rest assured that he will do everything in his power to ensure he makes a good first impression.

he spends a lot of time at the gym to work off his nervous energy. this teddy bear just really loves you so much and wants the night to go just how you want it that sometimes it makes his hands shake a little.

there's a good chance that he goes to belphegor to ask for advice. belphegor is famously unhelpful with these kinds of things, but he does pass along a good nugget of wisdom from underneath a thick blanket-- "they love you already, right? just show their sibling why. be yourself or whatever that corny ass saying says."

the execution could use some work, but at the end of the day the sentiment still stands. be yourself, beel, because you're a sweetheart!

and a sweetheart he is the entire meeting. bonus points if your older sibling has a dog or children-- he's fantastic with those. kids love to climb all over him like a jungle gym. a little foot to the stomach or side doesn't phase him one bit.

he's also just very kind and thankful to your sibling for making the time to meet him, as well as thanks them for taking care of you growing up. he's just really happy things turned out this way. of all the millions of different timelines that could have happened, he's glad he's in this one, with you, watching the sun set and enjoying an evening with those you love the most.

Belphegor

belphegor, in all honesty, doesn't really care what your sibling thinks. what're they going to do, march down to the devildom and split you up? demand you break up like a controlling parent? he doesn't have the energy to worry about such inane bullshit.

like a lot of things with belphie, he finds himself caring explicitly because you care.

you want your sibling to like him? fine. he can't promise prince charming or anything, but he'll give it a try for you.

he doesn't really do a whole lot of mental prep. he's lucky in that way-- less strung out and anxious about things he can't control than some of his other brothers. he does, however, physically prepare more than any of the others.

by that, i mean he practically hibernates a few days before meeting your sibling. he knows one of his biggest flaws is how often he sleeps, so he's hoping he can get enough sleep to fend it off for one day.

one major advantage belphegor has is his sense of humor. this man is funny. his jokes are dry and snarky, easy to miss at times; if your sibling has a sarcastic sense of humor, they think he's hilarious. if, for some reason, his jokes don't land, he'll tone them down for the night. you'll get to hear all of them on the way home, though.

the evening ends as belphie's energy truly runs out. he leans into your shoulder and fights hard against his dropping eyelids. if your sibling asks, he mumbles something about being anemic and tries to force himself to wake up. this is your cue to wrap the night up.

your sibling walks away with the impression that belphegor is a bit of a shithead (correct). whether or not they say this with affection is another thing entirely. regardless, though, he's a shithead that loves you and makes you happy, so really, what more can they ask for?

Diavolo

there are two concurrent thoughts happening when you share this information with him.

one part of him is already sure that your sibling will approve of him without a doubt. he's royalty, after all-- he's got amazing manners, he's well-spoken, and very respectful of anyone he meets. these are some of the most essential qualities to making a future king.

the other part of him is very invested in your sibling liking him for one main reason: diavolo absolutely intends to be your family one day and he wants to establish a good relationship with his in-laws from the jump.

he doesn't spend nearly as much time preparing for anything as he does dreaming about how the meeting will go between stacks of the most boring paperwork in all of the three realms. this man craves domesticity because it was so limited as he grew up in the castle. he wants dinner with in-laws, visiting your aging grandparents, waking up early to attend your niece or nephew's soccer games. he's selfish in that way and he knows it. he wants everything with you.

unfortunately for him, diavolo cannot change certain things about himself to blend in better in the human world. most notably, he's massive. it's certainly a bit off-putting to even the most open minded people when you walk in hand-in-hand with goliath. hopefully your sibling doesn't comment on it.

but diavolo's booming laugh and high-beam grin are sure to enchant the most stubborn of older siblings. there's a certain electricity in watching him let his hair down, abandoning the weight of the "future king" title and spending the evening not as a ruler but your partner. he's effortlessly fun and charming. you find yourself enchanted with him again by the end of the night. he's really incredible, huh?

diavolo is already asking to do this again soon as you guys say your goodbyes. with those hopeful eyes staring at them in anticipation, how could your sibling ever refuse such an attractive offer?

Barbatos

... is there any universe in which your sibling wouldn't like barbatos? look at him. he's perfect.

the only issue i could see arising here is if your sibling is very animated and finds your partner quite stiff and humorless. a shame, because barbatos has a sharp wit and sharper tongue-- but i digress.

barbatos is not anxious about this meeting. this is mostly because of who he is as a person. anxieties roll off of him like water off a duck's back. he's comforting in that way. it helps that his hands are always busy.

he spends the night before making the best cake you've ever tasted, along with a few other offerings, to the meeting. he's not worried about making a bad impression, of course, but he's not opposed to greasing the wheels a little either.

he looks wonderful when you go to leave. there's an air of sophistication around him at all times, and yet when he's of-duty, you notice something else about him: a sense of ease as he takes your hand. a small, almost humored smile pulls at his lips. in that moment, you know there's nothing to worry about.

and of course, you're right. barbatos is a true gentleman. he strikes a perfect balance between offering his help and letting your sibling flex their hosting skills. truly a perfect houseguest.

the only dubious moment comes when your sibling, after barbatos once again wows with his effortless perfection, calls him an angel. the demon's lips quirk into a small smile at the irony, just for a moment, before thanking your sibling and continuing the conversation. your sibling seems to notice the strange reaction but thankfully does not press further. he does bring it up on the way home, though-- that smile returns, this time intentional and humored as the corners of his mouth turn upwards. angel. how interesting.

diavolo bypasses the butler immediately and asks you how the meeting went, knowing barbatos won't provide him with the juicy details he wants. you hate to disappoint his highness, but the evening went swimmingly.

Simeon

simeon is an angel of the lord. hand-crafted by god, built as an ideal specimen, he does not fret over the opinions of many.

then why, pray tell, does he care so much about your older sibling liking him?

there is a supernatural charm about him. even the most irritable of people soon find themselves fond of the angel. in that regard, he's grateful. but he doesn't want to rely on his blessing. he wants your sibling to like him for who he actually is. their approval quickly becomes a symbol of prosperity for your relationship-- if your sibling somehow took issue with him, then that must be a sign from Father that your love wasn't made to be. he trusted in the heavenly plan, after all.

that trust did come with a lot of nausea, though. this angel did not like the idea that someone could think you shouldn't be together.

his mood in the coming days is a little off. he's less quick-witted, a bit more distracted, just generally sort of out of it all. it starts scaring luke and solomon. the vibes in purgatory hall are completely off when simeon's not in a good mood like usual.

he spends the night before baking with luke to make some treats to bring to the meeting. he's hoping that your sibling has a sweet tooth-- if not, he's screwed.

simeon, of course, has nothing to worry about. he's just so damn likeable! he's sweet and polite to everyone, no matter how abrasive your sibling may be. watching him interact with them makes you fall in love with him all over again.

your sibling likes him. of course they do. he's wonderful to them and to you all day. if they particularly like him, they might even mention that he's a keeper-- bonus points if it's in front of him. that'd make his whole month.

Solomon

solomon doesn't really care much about the whole "meeting the family" dance other couples have to worry about. he's been around your much longer than any other human could hope to live. that sort of existence doesn't foster a family or long-term friendships. he doesn't really have anyone that matters enough to him to gain their approval of your relationship, so, in a sense, he doesn't think about how important meeting your older sibling is to you.

when you explain it, he sort of passively agrees to the meeting. he'll try his best, stay on his best behavior, yadda yadda, but there's no part of him that would be heartbroken if something came up and you had to cancel. he just doesn't have those strong familial attachments that you do.

he doesn't seem very invested in the whole thing-- that is, until you say you're worried your older sibling might not like him, seeing as how they haven't been fond of anyone else you've dated.

oh. oh. so that's a challenge, is it?

solomon will not be losing, in that case. you best believe from this moment onward that he's putting in maximum effort to get your sibling to be his #1 fan. his social skills are a bit rusty at times-- that's why many call him "devious" and "off-putting" and "a menace to the three realms", whatever that's all about-- but he'll brush them off and prepare to charm the shit out of your older sibling.

when the meeting finally comes, he's all smiles. if they knew him better, the kindness would make him seem like a wolf in sheep's clothing, all razor sharp teeth as he lulls you into a false sense of security. it's not that he's trying to be manipulative or anything. solomon just has this way about him that makes everything he does seem at least a little shady. but you can tell that he is actually trying to be friendly and kind, even if it is just for the sense of satisfaction that comes from winning.

he'll tease you on the way home about how you doubted him from the beginning. your sibling likes him, so what were you so worried about, silly? solomon would never let something like that slide.

that night, you catch his expression shift when he thinks you're not looking-- just for a moment, there's a sense of real, genuine relief on his face from knowing that he made a good impression.

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sky-kiss · 5 months

Note

You want a sinning prompt, ill give you a sinning prompt *cough*Ascendedform!usingyoutomakBloodofRaphaeltieflings*cough*

A/n: /checks the time Ok. It’s sin o’clock. I'm hiding everything under the cut. Because it's...well. You know.

___________

Ascended!Raphael x Reader 18+: Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of your actions.

___________

"Look at you," Haarlep breathes the words against your ear, nose tweaked against your cheek. There's a scrape of teeth, and you shiver, screwing your eyes shut against the sensation. Sensitive, so sensitive. Every nerve in your body feels alive. They lick across to the corner of your mouth, turning your head to kiss you deeply. The incubus' tail curls around your thigh, urging your legs to fall apart for him. Fingers circle your clit, a lazy series of strokes meant to build you higher but never break. He chuckles, a mimicry of affection, as he kisses you again. "Such a pretty mess you make. Even Raphael couldn't fault my work."

You gasp, head lolling back against their shoulder. His right arm is a vice holding you back against his chest. The warmth of them helps. Haarlep smells like summer fires and vetiver, fresh and burning; it suits them. You're burning.

Their fingers dip lower, pressing into you and scissoring. You whimper, and Haarlep swallows the sound, pushes their tongue into your mouth, and makes you taste, drink, and welcome him. The fever is almost unbearable. The incubus has stretched and stretched you. All you feel is empty.

"Good girl," they coo. Haarlep wipes your slick on your thigh. They smile against your skin. "So good for us. So ready. Say it, sweetling. Say you're ready."

"Please."

"Ah, ah, that," they nip the tip of your nose, "was not what I asked: are you ready, pet?"

"I'm ready. Gods, please!"

"Oh, darling," he shifts, dragging fingers down your sternum, your belly, down to the apex of your thighs. "After tonight, not one of your gods will have you. All ours. Always." Haarlep hums, leaning their head against yours. "Isn't that right, Raphael?"

Raphael waits, kneeling. The ascended fiend tilts its head to the side, tongue lolling from the center mouth. Its eyes burn with animal intelligence; part of it is weighing Haarlep's words, tasting them. Its wings fan out to the side, brushing the tile, braced for stability. The clawed hands rest on either side of the pair of you.

The beast noses your chest. Scents you. And purrs. You groan, shifting back against Haarlep, lifting your hips.

How lovely you'll look, he'd said, as conversational as he might have been over brunch, full of my seed. That's what you want, yes? To be good for me? Serve me?

You wanted it more than your next breath. The fiend tastes you first, its growl vibrating through your body. The heat makes you shift, panting, glancing over your shoulder for help. The flat of its tongue covers the whole of your cunt with flat pressure, warm and wet; Haarlep leads you in a lazy rock, cock still pressed against your ass. You clench at his thighs, searching for purchase, anything, as the fiend works itself up. The more it laps at you, the wetter you get. The better you taste. The more it wants. Up, and up, and up, and there has to be a breaking point, there has to be a ceiling, there has to, has to, has to…

Your back bows, thrusting into the creature's touch. There is enough of Raphael in there to delight in this naked affectation, and it howls its pleasure, tongue pressing inside your clenching hole. It's being filled with heat, stretched, and you can't help but fuck yourself onto it, welcoming more. You want him. You wish you could put into words how badly you want him.

You're lucky, you know, he'd breathed the words against your lips, skirt rucked up around your hips. His hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he thrusts into you. I've chosen you, little mouse. My treasure…what pretty spawn you'll give me.

And, oh, it's too much. Too much, the head of its cock pressed to your soppy cunt. Haarlep spreads your legs wider, angles you, purring filth in your ear until you're grinding down, desperate. They want to see you speared on him, want to listen to you babble, want to watch you come and come. Raphael pushes, and you jolt, feeling your body finally relent.

You could never take all of him, but you take enough. It lowers its head, licks your cheek, and howls. It fucks without grace or concern, pulling you where it wants, its head thrown back, taking. In the back of your mind, you're vaguely aware of Haarlep laughing, lifting your hips just enough to let the fiend slide deeper. Air is an afterthought. You're screaming, and it's sharp, everything: the heat, the pain, the pleasure. Sweat tracks down your body in lazy rivulets. You're coming apart, but your body won't stop. It's rocking with him, hungry. One of the fiend's hands snakes around your waist, jerking you away from the incubus and into it.

You belong to Raphael, his, his, and you shake, one hand tangling in your hair, one reaching out for Haarlep. He leans over you and kisses you just long enough to leave a fresh swell of intoxicating pleasure rocketing through your system. And then leaves you to the fiend.

You lose track. You're exhausted. It flips you onto your front, up on your knees, filling you again. You ache, but it's good. Its folded over you, panting, screaming, and you break again, clutching at its cock. And when Raphael finally comes, you want to sob; forehead pillowed on your arms—filled with him, full of him. Its spend drips down your thighs.

Fingers, oddly gently, card over your lower back and thighs. Raphael, your Raphael, leans over you, pressing a kiss to the small of your back. He gathers his seed with a chuckle, pushing it back into your cunt. You moan.

"Look at you," he mumbles. "So beautiful. Eternally mine."

#bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #ascended fiend raphael #asks #my writing #/walks into the sea #bg3 smut

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purpleberiii · 2 months

Text

"You belong to me"

☆Prompt: Part 2 of the previous Shalom fic

☆Warnings: Reader vs Rahu, manipulative Shalom, reader hurting Anne, Shalom making reader jealous.

☆A/n: let's just pretend that Reader (chief) has never met Rahu (I'm talking about the rainburst event). A small Fic to keep this blog alive 😭

While Shalom stayed in a grand hotel and assisted you with your tasks, things have been going downhill between you and Anne, mostly because of your old feelings being stirred up back again. Anne knew from the very beginning that you still liked Shalom but she wanted to hear it from you.

Things ended between the two of you and it hurt Anne to know that she couldn't be the one to win your heart. Guilt had driven a hole in your mind when you broke up with her and Shalom felt victorious and smug. All of your attention will finally be on her but that wasn't the case, you wanted to find Anne and apologise but Shalom stopped you. She pulled you into an empty storage room and pushed you up against the wall, her hands cupping your face as her nails dragged themselves down your face.

"You love me still right?" She asked-more like whispered. Stuck in a trance with her eyes, you nodded hopelessly as she chuckled. "Then don't ever go to that Nurse. If you feel stuck, lost or drained, come to me. I'll always keep you safe and protected and... Happy. You belong to me Y/n, don't forget that."

If nothing couldn't have taken your breath away, Shalom definitely could. She left you all flustered in the storage room and it built hopes of the two of you starting a possible relationship.

But all those hopes were crushed when Shalom requested her bodyguard accompany her for the remaining of the days. The relationship between the two seemed like more than a bodyguard and client but you knew it wasn't your place to ask. Shalom could sense the irritation, hurt, jealously and betrayal all from you and it filled her with a sense of pride knowing you'd die for her love.

"Rahu, bodyguard of Miss Shalom. Pleased to meet you Chief of MBCC," Rahu extended a hand to you. Shalom's gaze was on you, the way you stared Rahu down, as if you were calculating her last breath.

"Pleasure to meet you too Rahu. I hope you find your visit a much eventful one." You shook her hand, your grip tightening as she winched in pain and in that exact moment, Rahu knew that you were the one Shalom kept talking and dreaming about. She knew she was in for a ride as the way Shalom kept talking about you, it was like you were her oxygen and she needed you.

"Rahu dear, you'll be staying in the hotel I'm in, in my room as well," she kept staring at you while she spoke. You didn't see, you were conversing with Nightingale. If Rahu had a tail, it'd be wagging right about now.

"Yes miss Shalom. Also, is she the one you were always..talking about?"

"Hmm, yes she is. Oh?~ is my Rahu jealous?~" she teased Rahu who looked away.

"Me? I-I'm not jealous, just surprise that you haven't made your move as yet."

"Why make my move when I have you?" Shalom pulled Rahu in by her collar and hovered her lips over hers. You turned around and at the same time, Shalom pressed a small kiss to Rahu's lips. "There, for being such a good puppy for me." Rahu smiled before Shalom dismissed her and turned to face you. She kept breaking you and that's what she wanted, for you to break under her.

"Y-you're together with Rahu?"

"No. I can never date someone like that. Besides, I've got my eyes set on someone," she smiled warmly, a smile that held a thousand words behind that.

"Shalom stop playing with me. You said I belong to you, but it seems like I'm not the only one."

"You're right you aren't. Rahu has kept me company for many years, is it wrong to reward her for her loyalty? Besides, if you still love me, there's a chance you might get me, if you try hard enough," with that, she left.

A million thoughts ran through your mind and then you remembered that Shalom was always like that and if you wanted her, you'd have to play by her rules and that meant competing with Rahu.

#ptn #path to nowhere #ptn shalom #shalom x reader #path to nowhere shalom #path to nowhere shalom x reader #ptn shalom x reader #rahu #rahu x shalom

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imgoingtofreakoutnow · 6 months

Text

hold me as the night goes by

Summary: Rolan finds you crying in the Ramazith's Tower and tries to comfort you

Pairing: Rolan x Tav

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: depiction of what might be a panic/anxiety attack, hurt/comfort, tiny bit of fluff

A/N: This is entirely self-indulgent, I just needed a hug from Rolan. Sorry for any possible grammatical mistakes ;P

Tagging: @tripleyeeet @elfinbloodbag @fictionobsession @adequate-superstar @sapphiccloud (if you don't want to be tagged, let me know <3)

\_/

As Rolan's wandering through the Ramazith’s Tower, in his slow but steady cataloguing of each and every book that fills the many shelves of the building, he hears a muffled sound coming from a nearby corner.

Cal and Lia both went out a while before to do a couple chores for Rolan – not imperative ones, a mere pretest to keep them away so that they wouldn’t bother him during the cataloguing. This excludes his two noisy siblings from the list of possible intruders. It can’t be a visitor either: he showed the last one out himself, and there isn't anyone foolish enough to roam the trapped halls by themselves.

Rolan silently closes the book he's checking and puts it back on the shelf, with the notebook where he’s annotating title, author and year of the various volumes. He moves towards the sound, an incantation rolling quietly on his tongue as he prepares himself to face a possible thief – and given the main contents of the tower, possibly a magic-user one.

When he finally cuts the corner, Rolan lets his hands fall to his side when he sees you, the light emanating from his palms disappearing as he places them on his hips.

"I'm glad you're enjoying the volumes," he sighs, not noticing the way you jump and moving closer to you, "but I'd rather you'd ask before taking them off the shelves. Some of these are very-"

His words die in his mouth when he notices you're not holding a book in your hands or anything that belongs to the tower. Just a creased handkerchief that you're gripping onto as if your life depended on it. Then his eyes move to your face.

For a moment, it's like he’s back in Lorroakan's study and the fists of his former master are hitting him again, cutting his breath in half and tearing his skin like sharp daggers. However, the longer he looks at your face, torn apart by streaks of tears and an unknown pain, the worse it feels. Invisible claws wrap tightly around his heart and dig deeply inside the beating muscle, like a knife through butter.

"What's wrong?"

"I-"

Your mouth flutters open but nothing else comes out. It only prompts more tears to run down your cheeks and for you to frantically wipe them away.

Rolan steps forward and raises his hand. He stops it before it moves to your cheek, instead placing it gently on your arm. Despite the misadventures you've shared together, you two still barely know each other. He has no right to touch you like that, it doesn’t matter if his desire might say differently.

"Did somebody hurt you?" he asks again, to which you shake your head, eyelids sewn together as you hold back a sob. "Then please, tell me how I can help."

You scoff, taking a useless breath as the sting in your eyes grows with the heaviness in your chest.

"I wish I knew," you utter in a pained chuckle, tears still hanging at the corner of your eyes. "But it hurts… and I don't even know why."

Your head falls as you cover your face, your palms pressing into your eyes to stop the tears and sadness that keeps building and building, as if it’s about to split you open.

Why can't you just be happy? You're alive, you're close to finding a cure for the tadpole, and yet why does everything hurt so much for seemingly no reason? Why can't you breathe? Why can’t you feel anything other than that despair that’s slowly eating you alive?

Why can't you just die already?

Your mind is completely lost, in the middle of a storm with no end in sight. All you want is for the world to stop spinning around you, for quietness.

Then you feel something. You focus on that, on the warmth that passes through your sleeves and the firm squeeze on your arm – the one thing keeping you from drifting away.

You lean into it – into him – and before you know it, your forehead hits Rolan's chest as your body is shaken by sobs.

Rolan stands frozen, unsure what to do as your hands claw to his robes. He's not used to physical touch; even with Cal and Lia, he still tenses when they pull him into a hug. This is no different.

But he can't ignore the pull he feels towards you, nor the tears that are still falling down your cheeks.

His arms wrap around you, tentatively pulling you in. You make no resistance, sinking into his touch as his hands rub along your back before finding its way to the name of your neck.

As his fingers gently caress your skin and short hair, your muscles slowly relax. Pressed against his chest, your breathing steadies and your lungs start working once again. The sadness is still there, gripping onto you like lice – just as annoying to get rid off – but the tears are slowly running out as you feel Rolan resting his chin on your head.

You open your mouth to say something but no words come to your tongue. You simply lean into him even more, listening to his slow heartbeat until the blood in your veins starts pumping in unison to his own.

“Is this… helping?”

You nod against his chest, somehow getting even closer to him. “You can let me go now, if you want.”

Rolan pulls back and you already miss his warmth. The comforting sound of his beating heart, mirroring yours. He doesn’t move too far, stopping just a few inches away from you, but after the previous closeness it feels like you’re miles apart. His hand still rests on the back of your neck while his eyes stare into yours with grave seriousness. And a hint of fear.

“Do you want me to?”

His golden irises dart away for a moment as the whisper leaves his mouth. Taking in a trembling breath, you suddenly realise what that closeness means. To him, to you, to the frail relationship you’ve built during the past weeks. Perhaps it’s not smart to endanger the connection with one of your strongest allies, however you can’t ignore the peace you felt when he was holding you, just moments before. A peace that’s still running through you as his fingers caress softly your skin

You shake your head, your fingers digging in his tunic and moving closer to him once more. Rolan pulls you back into his hug, not one second of hesitation, and you both revel in the newfound closeness.

“I’ll be here whenever you need me,” he speaks softly, his lips pressing gently on your head. “You’ll never have to worry about that.”

Closing your eyes, a small smile pulls your mouth. It might still not be enough to feel completely better, but it's a start.

#rolan x tav #rolan x reader #rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fic #annie writes

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nicoline1998enilocin · 1 month

Note

You have a prompt ("no amount of money ever bought a second of time" from marvel-smash bingo) and this is something Tony's dad said to him, I would like to request something with it

Tony and reader just had a baby and Tony says this to the baby and that is something that his/her grandpa once said or Tony's parents are still alive when he's an adult and when they are visiting their grandbaby, Howard will say this to the baby and it's a very emotional moment 😊

Never grow up

PAIRING | Husband!Dad!Tony Stark x Wife!Mom!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | ~ 800 words

SUMMARY | Your beautiful son came home a few hours ago, and now you witness Tony having a sweet moment with him, making your heart beat faster and filling with love like never before.

RATING | Teen (T)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Established relationship, use of nicknames (Gorgeous, Nugget), referenced pregnancy/childbirth

A/N | Nonnie, I cannot thank you enough for sending in this incredibly cute request! I decided to write something right away for you, and I hope you will enjoy every second of it, because I know I did when writing it. This is proofread by the amazing @ccbsrmsf1, for which I will be forever in your debt. I love you 🩷

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist

Two days ago, your lifelong dream became a reality. Your son, Noah Anthony Stark, was born on March 16th at 4:57 AM in the Compound's Hospital wing. Today, you were released, and Tony couldn't be happier to bring him to his penthouse for the first time.

Noah's birth wasn't easy on you by any means, so you decided to take a little nap when you got home. Tony gives him a bottle before putting him down for a nap. From when your son was born, Tony immediately fell into a naturally fatherly role, and he has never been sexier.

Now, he resides in the rocking chair in Noah's nursery, slowly rocking back and forth while he feeds and talks to him.

"Y'know, my Dad used to say, 'No amount of money ever bought a second of time,' and I never quite grasped what that meant until now. Finally, having you with us is so special, but I already dread the day you'll be growing up. I wish you would forever stay this small or that I could pause time for even a moment," he tells his son, and you walk in about halfway through the conversation.

"I wish he could stay this little forever," you say to your husband, who looks up at you with a loving look. You slowly make your way over to both of them, careful not to hurt yourself now that you're still healing.

"I thought you were sleeping, Gorgeous," he says before giving you a small peck on your lips when you sat down next to both of them.

"I was, but I needed to use the toilet again. I heard you talking to Noah, so I decided to look at what you two were talking about."

Your head lies on his shoulder as you smile at your son, who already looks like Tony. He has the most beautiful blue eyes, though, and you're curious what they will change into—secretly, you hope they will morph into the same chocolate brown ones as Tony's.

"Not much. I was telling him what my Dad used to tell me," Tony sighs, and you nod.

"They would be proud of you, you know? After everything, you have the family you deserve, a beautiful son, and you're married to a beautiful woman," you say with a grin.

"You're definitely right about that, Gorgeous. And I know they would have fallen head over heels in love with him, just like you and I have," Tony tells you as he's blinking away the tears threatening to fall down his cheeks at the thought of his parents.

"They would have," you whisper to him as you look at Noah, who's already fallen asleep. Once Tony is finished feeding Noah, he changes him into a clean diaper and pajamas, ready to tuck him into bed.

"Sleep well, Nugget," you tell him as he's cozy in his crib, the sight making your heart melt. Your lifelong dream of becoming a Mom has come true, and you're feeling more loved than ever.

"Wow," Tony whispers when Noah peacefully sleeps, an occasional soft snore coming from him.

"Wow indeed," you whisper in return, and Tony nods.

"I can't believe I made him."

"We, Tony. We made him." You reprimand him, and he smiles wide before nodding. You're right; he's the outcome of your shared love. After a few more moments, you take your husband's hand before leading him out of the nursery and into your bedroom, needing some cuddles with him.

"He's cute when he sleeps, isn't he?" Tony tells you, and you couldn't agree more.

"Just as cute as his Daddy," you joke, making Tony smile widely.

"I don't think so, Gorgeous. I think you're much cuter than I am!" he tells you, making you laugh this time. Your world may have been turned upside down by bringing new life into this world, but the love you and your husband share has not changed, and you're fortunate to have him by your side.

"I love you, Tony. And thank you for being the best Daddy we could wish for," you say as you turn to him, getting on your tiptoes to capture his lips with yours.

"I love you too, Gorgeous. But let's get into bed because I need some cuddles with my hot mama," he says, and you feel the warmth spreading through your body at his words. During your pregnancy, Tony would worship your body every day when he wasn't away on missions, and he never fails to let you know how he feels about you now.

"The last one to the bed gets to change his next diaper!" you say after taking off, and Tony happily lets you win this race. He doesn't mind doing it, and you could use a win after the days you've had. As long as he can spend the next few hours with you cuddled in his arms, he knows he's the luckiest man on earth.

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readychilledwine · 6 months

Note

Number 1 with azriel but with a happy end please 👀🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Azriel x reader from the angst prompt list from @urfriendlywriter

Prompt 1- "tell me it was a lie. Tell me you're playing with me right now." -modified slightly

A/n- I left this what I consider an open ending. There's resolution needed still, but it could be happy. Think of like Dear John when he gets the letter from Savannah in the end? Like it's inferred John and Savannah are moving forward to work on their relationship, but we don't see it.

"So you'd rather be with her than your mate?" You looked up at the ceiling, hands shaking. "Tell me this is a lie. Tell me you're playing with me right now."

Azriel shook his head from across the table. "I just find it hard to believe that there 3 sisters and 3 brothers-"

You rolled your eyes and stopped him in his train of thought. "We've been mated for longer than she has been alive. She is mated to Lucien Vanserra."

"I'm making a choice based on what makes me happiest." Azriel stood. "The house is yours. I'll be out by tomorrow night."

You just nodded, slamming down his whiskey once he turned away.

Five years passed like a breeze, though filled with a lot of challenges and heartache. He never gave you the simple act of kindness that would have been rejecting the bond, so you felt every single one of his emotions the past few years.

The mourning. Mourning over his life being destroyed when the realm wide announcement of Lucien and Elains elopement came forward.

The confusion. Confusion from not knowing where to go now. Confusion when he realized his affections and effort had been misplaced. That he mistook her reactions to them as flirtation.

The longing. The longing to come home. To return to that 2 floor, cabin in the woods where you still stayed.

His shadows never left. They still danced around your legs as you tended to the vegetable gardens. They still ensured the blanket never slipped from your shoulders late at night. They still reported to him what you were doing, who you were with, if you were happy.

And, Mother, he prayed you were happy. He spent the last 5 years miserable, but Gods he hoped you were happy.

You kneeled down in the garden, hands covered in soil as you planted new peppers Rhys had brought you from the Summer Court. You paused when a shadow darted past you, alerting to something. You felt him before you saw him. You stood and brushed the soil onto your apron and turned.

He looked defeated. Truly and deeply defeated. He wouldn't look at you. His wings hung limply behind him. "Hi,"you watched him shift and his arms fall to his side. "Can we talk?" You nodded, taking his left hand gently and freezing when you felt that familiar cold band. "I… I never took it off.. I realized as soon as I left how stupid I was being and I.." His voice broke into sobs then as he pulled you to him.

Your back hit his chest and you simply stood there. "It's okay, Az."

He shook his head, continuing to cry into your hair. "No, no its not. I fucked up."

"You did," you admitted. "You really did. That doesn't mean we can't move forward, though. Let's go inside. I have your favorite tea.. Cassian would always make sure I had it."

Azriel sniffled again, "Why?"

"So I could brew it and the house would smell like you," the confession went to his heart, to the bond.

And the bond began to sing.

He smiled into your hair now, "so you're saying I have a chance?" You simply moved away from him, lacing your hand into his and pulling him to the cabin. "Is that a yes?"

"A tentative one."

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger

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redheadspark · 5 months

Note

Druig with "Shh, it's just a nightmare. You're safe" and "You are so fucking powerful" for December prompt? 🤗

A/N - Ahh! This is lovely! I do like this request, thanks dear friend!

Powerful

Summary - Druig is haunted, but you bring him back to the living.

Warnings - Just a mix of Angst and Fluff

“Druig….Druig wake up!”

Druig woke up gasping for air, eyes wide and his breath short in his throat as the dimmed room on the Domo was all he was seeing. Yet in the back of his mind, tucked away in the most vulnerable part he would rarely tap into himself, was the moment he was thrown to the ground by Ikaris and almost killed within seconds. It felt so real to him, from feeling the wind whip around him as he was launched, to the rocks digging along his skin and armor as he was being pummeled deeper and deeper into the ground. It was too much for him, no matter that it was in the past and he was safe away from Earth. He was living it all over again.

But there were hands on his face, framing his cheeks and rubbing his clammy skin soothingly. The sensation of body warmth next to him under the satin sheets, and a soothing scent that he knew for centuries was now flooding his nostril as a silhouette was seen perched over him. He knew that face, it was the very face that he fell in love with. No matter that it was dark in the room, he knew the dip of the nose and the round cheeks along with the long hair draped over the shoulder.

You, his wife of almost 2,000 years.

“Shh,” you cooed as you stroked his brown hair from his eyes that were still wide. One of his hands reached up to grab your wrist, almost using it as his own anchor as the nightmare was slipping away from him like the water on the shore, “Shh, it’s just a nightmare. You’re safe.”

Druig gulped, nodding his head as he felt his heartbeat go down again from rushing so quickly. You sighed in relief, leaning over to kiss his head a few times to bring him a bit more peace, “You scared me good, Druig,”

“Sorry,” he mumbled his voice feeling raw and thick as you tutted.

“Nothing to be sorry about, my love.” You reassured him. Druig looked away from you at the window, seeing the galaxy and the scattering of stars right outside the Domo, reminding him yet again that you both were away from Earth. Thena and Makkari were asleep in their own rooms, your ship on its own solo journey to look for other Eternals out in the cosmos.

“It was Ikaris again, wasn’t it?” You asked him tentatively, Druig’s head going back to see you give him a look of concern. He said nothing, but you knew fully well that it was about Ikaris. Taking in a long pause, you looked down for a brief moment to control your own fleet of anger that was festering out.

“He can’t hurt me anymore, luv,” Druig said in a calm tone, his hand on your wrist tightened sightly to get your attention, “He can’t hurt us. He’s gone,”

“Good,” You replied shortly, Druig sitting up in the bed as he was keeping his eyes on you, “And I’m glad I got a few good hits in on him from what he did,”

“Hey,” Druig said to you, seeing your eyes slowly drift back to him as he gave you a reassuring look, “I’m fine and alive thanks to you.”

Maybe it was enough that you needed to hear since the cold demeanor you had in your eyes was now melting away. Druig knew that you had beaten Ikaris down to a pulp after Druig was taken out of the picture to stop Tiamut. He saw the evident look of fatigue on your face and in your body language when you two reunited on the beach, his heart was breaking from seeing how worn down you were and still reeling with rage and anger towards Ikaris. This was not what he wanted for you, knowing how good and deep your soul was and how filled with happiness and love you have been for centuries. But he also knew how protective you two were of each other, considering each other as equals when it came to living a life together on earth.

Ever since you both left the beach, Druig had nightmares almost every night. He was never one to get nightmares to begin it since it was rare for all the time he’d been on Earth. But Ikaris’s assault was vivid in his mind, almost engrained in his psyche, and Druig hated that he was reliving it over and over again.

However, you were always there to wake him up and bring him back to reality. It always helped when he saw your face, when he heard your voice or simply felt your presence as his nightmare melted away. You were a source of peace for him, even in the more troubled times in the past when he felt hopeless in stopping the humans from harming each other, you reminded him of his worth and all the good he has done on the planet.

“Come here,” Druig urged you as you both fell back into bed together, Druig letting you rest your head on his chest while his arms were rubbing your arms up and down in a soothing motion. You held him close, breathing him in as the soft hum of the Domo and its energy was floating in the room. Druig loved holding you like this, for as long as you two were together as a couple he would hold you in his arms as you two slept or simply embraced each other. Being powerful beings, it seemed silly to be in such a vulnerable position together. Neither one of you cared though, being open with one another was the purest form of love you two had for each other and there was no resistance for it.

Now more than ever, after stopping the world from ending and almost losing one another, you both were never far from one another’s touch.

“I’m beyond thankful for you,” Druig reassured you as your arms were still wrapped around him and you were listening to his heartbeat through his thin shirt, “You’ve saved me from being lost so many times in the past, even when I didn’t feel powerful enough to change what I wanted in the world—“

“You are so fucking powerful,” You said in a determined tone, Druig going quiet as you were staring out into the window to see the stars floating by at a slow pace, “You’re powerful enough to know what’s right and what needs to be done, Druig. I love that about you, and I’ll willing to protect you and that part of your heart because of it, okay?”

Druig smiled for the first time that night, leaning down to kiss the top of your head as you two were embracing in silence again. Druig loved that passion that you had, being the more abrasive one out of the pair of you. He spoke his mind about plenty of things, but you were a pinch bolder with your own opinion and was never afraid to hold back.

You would remind him every day how powerful he was, and you would pull him out of the darkness every time too.

The End

Hurt/ Comfort Prompt Session

#druig x reader #druig x female reader #druig imagine #druig x eternal!reader #drug x female eternal reader #fanfiction #writing #barry keoghan #druig #eternals #my love #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu eternals #mcu phase 4 #mcu fandom

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year

Note

CHARLIE you talented writer YOU!! If I could give you the world I would. I’ve been enjoying reading all these prompts turned into fics! Beautifully and nastily written 🤭

I would like to request ‘i want to see you’ fwb with Javier Peña. If you could make it angsty, dirty and fluffy in the end, I’d gladly kiss the ground you walk on. Luv ya! 😘

Oh my god Anon, you have no idea how much this message means to me ❤️ I'm so glad you're enjoying my writing - it makes me the happiest gal alive when people take time out of their day to tell me they like what I'm producing, so thank you 🫶🏼

This prompt flew out of my fingers at lightening speed - thank you! I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing | Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word Count | 1.9K (I'm getting carried away with these now!)

Fluff, angst and of course, smut below the cut! Still open for prompts - check here and pop into my ask if there's anything you want to see! Writing for Javi P, Javi G, Joel Miller, Frankie Morales and Dieter Bravo!

Javier slammed the phone down onto his desk for the third time in thirty minutes, putting a cigarette between his lips to light it, feeling the slight relief of the nicotine in his system almost immediately.

“You know, if you slam that any harder you might actually finally break it.” Steve mused from his place opposite him.

Javier glared at him, using his free hand to massage his temple. It had been a rough day. A failed attempt to capture one of Escobar’s right-hand men and a dressing down from Messina about ‘wasting resources’ had him furious and in these times, it was always you that he’d turn to for relief. He’d pick up the desk phone, only ever after midnight, mumble down the phone that he was coming over and hang up. He’d spend as long as he could buried inside of you, seeking the comfort and release he needed before he’d get up, dress himself and leave.

At the beginning it suited you. Relatively new to Colombia and the administration you’d found it thrilling that the famous Javier Peña had taken to calling you instead of turning to the company he’d always had at the city’s brothels. But then it had started taking it’s toll. He’d call in the early hours of the morning, begging to see you and you’d always let him come but then he’d come to expect that he could waltz in and take exactly what he wanted and leave without an explanation, and it was beginning to make you feel like nothing more than a whore yourself.

Two weeks ago, when he’d called and told you he was coming over you’d refused. You’d complained you were tired and needed an early start, to which he’d pointed out that it had never mattered before. You’d lost your temper, shouting down the phone about it always having to be on his terms, in the dead of night, with no-one else being able to know what the two of you were doing. You’d slammed the phone down on him and done everything possible to avoid him since.

“I don’t even know what I’ve done.” Javier spoke to Steve, continuing to massage his temples.

“I didn’t think you were actually this dense.” Was Steve’s blunt reply.

“What the fucking hell is that supposed to mean?” Javier spoke with a harsh tone.

“Dude, you’ve been fucking her for months now, you do exactly this, phone her when you’ve had a bad day, turn up, get your fill and leave,” He had waved his hands whilst trying to explain, “You treat her no differently to any of the girls you saw before apart from this time she doesn’t charge you for the honor.”

“She knew what she was getting into.” Was what Javier replied with.

“That don’t make it right, man,” Steve tried to reason, “If you’re going to be friends with benefits, you’ve got to be her friend.”

Javier growled, stubbing out his cigarette before rubbing his face with his hands, “You know, sorry would probably go a long way,” Steve said before standing up, “I’ll see you tomorrow man.”

Javier picked up the phone once more, stopping to decide if this was really the right thing to do before dialing your number for the fourth time. He was convinced it was going to ring out again, but the ringing stopped, and he could hear a distant shuffling on the other end of the phone.

“Hello?” Your voice drifted through the receiver, immediately dissipating some of the tension in his shoulders.

“Hermosa?”

“What do you want Javier?” There was an ice to your voice that he wasn’t used to, even when he spoke to you last time the tone had been more one of disappointment than anything else.

“I just wanted to hear your voice.”

He could hear you take a deep sigh on the other end of the phone, “Well, you’ve heard it now, can I go back to bed?” He could already tell you were moving to hang up the phone.

“Hermosa, wait, please.”

On the other side of the phone, you were stood in the entryway of your apartment where the phone lived, fighting with your brain telling you to hang up and your heart telling you that you couldn’t spend another day without him.

“I’m still here.” You whispered softly.

“I want to see you.”

You closed your eyes and tipped your head back, silently wishing that this was easier. You cared about him, cared about making him feel good in the dark hours when no-one else could, but you also cared about the fact that he really did make you feel like shit when he got up and dressed himself and left without a word.

“I’m going to bed in 30 minutes, so hurry.”

***

You weren’t quite sure how he’d managed it but in just under 20 minutes he was knocking on your door. You tried not to think about the speed limits he’d broken to get here in the time he had.

You opened the door for him, expecting what always happened, for his lips to be on yours in seconds, back pressed up against the wall as his hands roamed underneath the loose-fitting top you were wearing. Instead, he walked in and straight past you. That was new.

“You want a drink?” You asked, pointing to the bottle of whiskey and the glass that you usually always set out for him.

“No, I’m okay thank you.” That was also new.

He stood awkwardly in your space. He really only ever spent time in your bedroom and something about him stood in the living area seemed wrong. You walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Bad day?” You asked.

“The worst,” Was his reply, “It’s all bullshit, hermosa, I can’t do right for doing wrong, they’re always one step ahead of us.”

You squeezed his shoulder in understanding, “What do you need?”

He turned to look at you, the darkness usually present in his eyes was replaced by a soft wanting stare towards you, “I just want you, it’s all I ever want.”

You took hold of his hand and led him towards your bedroom. You used soft hands to push his shoulders, sitting him down on the edge of the bed as you sank to your knees in front of him, his eyes never leaving you as you did.

“Take off your shirt.” You commanded softly, watching as he dragged it up and over his head and discarded it to the floor before leaning back on his hands.

He watched intently as you made light work of undoing his belt, dragging it through the belt loops to discard next to his shirt on the floor.

“Lift your hips up.” You instructed once the button of his jeans had been dealt with.

You dragged his jeans down his legs, fighting to get them off his feet, your eyes focusing on his semi-hard cock sitting right in your eyeline.

“You need me to help you relax?” You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Please, querida.” He begged.

You gently took his cock in your hand, using it to pump him to his full glory before dipping your head to him. You gently licked your tongue over the head, reveling in the sounds that fell from his mouth. Spurred on by his excitement, you took him fully into your mouth, letting him hit the back of your throat before pulling back short of choking on him to shower attention back to the weeping head of his cock.

You continued like this for a moment, taking him as far into your mouth as you could, using your hand to pump the rest of his length and then using your tongue to taste the salty drops of precum at his head.

“Hermosa,” He choked out, “Please, I need to be inside you.”

You pulled your face back but kept your hand running slow movements up and down his cock, “Get on the bed and lie back.” You demanded, standing and shedding your clothes as he did as you asked.

Once you were naked you crawled onto the bed, settling yourself above him as a grin formed on his face. He loved watching you ride him and you knew it. He watched with dark eyes as you reached a hand down between your legs, gathering the wetness weeping from your pussy, using your wet fingers to circle your clit. You dragged your fingers back down and inside of you, pumping two fingers into yourself, keeping your eyes on Javier’s before pulling them out and bringing them to his mouth.

“Go on,” You urged, “I know you like to taste me.”

As he sucked your fingers into his mouth and ran his tongue all over them to clean your slick off them, you shifted your hips above him and slowly sank down onto his cock, watching his face twist with the pleasure on your tight heat enveloping him.

“Jesus Christ, querida, you feel incredible.”

You smirked down at him, slowly lifting your hips a way off him before sinking back down, placing your hands on the headboard for leverage as you began fucking yourself on his cock. Javi’s hands flew to your hips, guiding you to move in exactly the way he liked, grinding into him as you sank back down onto him every time. You stayed like this for some time before Javi used his hands to still your hips.

You grinned, knowing exactly what was coming. He was taking control. Keeping you above him, he brought his knees up, resting them against your backside to give him purchase before he started fucking himself up into you. The friction of his thrusts was incredible, the feeling of fullness was something you’d undeniably missed.

“Oh my god, Javi.” You moaned, hands flying to your tits to grab and palm them, using your fingers to give attention to your nipples.

“I’m not going to last much longer, hermosa, not when you put on a show like this.”

“I want you to fill me up, Javi,” You moaned as he squeezed his fingers into your hips, not letting up on his pace, “Cum inside me please.”

It was moments later that a string of expletives fell from his mouth as he did exactly as you’d asked, pumping his cum inside your pussy whilst his fingers left bruises on your hips. You slowly lifted your hips off him, looking down as his cum dripped from you before collapsing on the bed next to him.

Once he’d caught his breath, he slowly stood from the bed and walked to the small bathroom at the end of your room. You could hear the tap running and then he was back with your warm washcloth, delicately cleaning you up before fishing his cigarettes from his jeans.

This was usually the moment he’d throw his clothes back on and leave wordlessly, but he settled himself on the bed, lighting the cigarette between his lips.

“Can I stay tonight?” He asked quietly.

“You want to stay?” You replied, a tone of surprise in your voice, “Who are you and what have you done with the real Javier Peña?” He let out a soft chuckle, “Hermosa, I’m sorry.” He placed a warm hand on your thigh for comfort, “I’m not good at this, I’ve never been good at this, and I’m sorry for how I treated you,” He sighed, taking a drag of his smoke, “I want to do right by you, I care about you, but I’m not quite sure how to do it.”

You placed one of your hands on top of his and squeezed, “It’s okay, I’m not very good at this either,” You reassured, “But maybe we can figure it out together?”

He turned and smiled at you, “I’d like that.”

#panda writes prompts #javier pena #narcos #Pedro pascal #javier pena fic #javier pena fan fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena smut #javier pena Pedro pascal #JP drabbles

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year

Text

[Part 2 to this post. Fem reader.]

Previous poll winner: Santi (61,7% after a tie-breaker with Sybastian)

TW: Dubious consent; Altered states of mind.

New choice! [VOTE]

You don't know his name, but you know he's the one you're picking. Maybe to your own detriment, but right now, you're trusting your gut. A shaky finger rises and points towards the demon.

" Him... "

His face brightens, a decidedly jovial, almost childish look on it, before it's immediately replaced with a smug, suave air. As if he expected you to pick him. Did he really though?

The whole room is filled with disappointed sighs, some of the monsters being more vocal about their distaste.

" It takes one slut to know another, no wonder she picked him... " The living doll snarks.

" Fool. "

" Of course, why am I surprised? "

" Heinous choice, maybe she really does deserve this. "

Although some sting your ego, you stand by your decision. He looks safe. Well, safer. That's about as low as the bar gets, but you're in no position to argue.

Said demon claps and laughs heartily at everyone's bitterness. " It sucks to suck. " He shrugs, ever smug as he closes in on you. " Great eye there, sweetheart. Now, why don't we get out of here, hm? "

There's no explanation for it except natural, biological demon fuckery, but his voice is velveteen enough to put you at ease. Or maybe it's just his casual quips, as if you aren't in a very life-threatening situation. In fact, now that you really think about it, there's only one type of demon he could be. Initially, you weren't very sure. A panicking brain told you he was wrathful purely because of his size, then his wording made you think of pride, but now? With him hovering mere centimeters away from your face? This fiend can only be from Lust. You mentally smack yourself for not realizing it immediately. The innuendo, his figure, the way he moves... Idiot.

Well, looking at the brightside, at least he's not likely to maul you in a fit of rage. Or eat you alive. That's... Better than nothing.

You must have spent some amount of time scrutinizing the monster, because he makes a quiet chuckle, prompting you to answer his question with a nod, avoiding those beautiful eyes. Unable to stand like this, and starting to feel very sore in all honesty, you aren't too shocked when he elects to pick you up. You'd ask to he untied, but that would just about destroy any ounce of modesty you're desperately clinging to right now.

He's strong. Most monsters are in comparison to humans, but you get the feeling he's not exerting much effort to lift you off the ground in a princess carry. Nonetheless, you still tense and squirm, knowing you can't really grab him for balance. He's undoubtedly warm, like a heater, a nice blanket in a rainy evening, smooth and comforting. This close to the monster's admittedly massive chest, you eye his piercings curiously and miss the way he sends his coworkers smarmy winks before using his tail to call the elevator.

It arrives with a pleasant ding, and the murmurs of disappointment are left behind once the yellowed metal doors close behind you two, some tension seeps off you. Only a little, you're still in a stranger's arms. Strong arms in fact, you can't get over that, can't get over how weirdly sweet he smells up close. Is it just you or he looks prettier under this light?

There's something so beautiful about him. You like the shape of his horns and those two rings pierced onto the right one. His face, although pale as chalk, is angular and handsome, a blend of blatantly masculine and feminine features mixing very well. Fascinated hues can't help fix onto those dark lips. It can't be lipstick, can it? It looks natural. Speaking of, you have no idea if he's wearing eyeshadow and eyeliner at all either... Could it be that demons of Lust are all this gorgeous naturally? Or is it just him specifically? In a sea of magenta, sharp green irises shift, a dim green glow emitting from them, casting a soft light. It takes you embarrassingly long to realize you're ogling, and that he's caught on minutes ago.

The way he stares back placidly, so very used to this attention most likely, has you instantly flushing and looking elsewhere, feeling stupid and fluttering at the sound of his laughing rumble.

" Uh- What's your name? " You stress, wanting to move on from that embarrassing moment.

He hums, readjusting to clutch you tighter to himself. The hand that grasped at your knees now grabs a handful of your upper thighs, the ensuing shudder as claws prick your skin is helpless. " I go by Santi, darling. " He offers.

Santi... Like there's anything saintly about this fucker. Better that than something you can't pronounce. The elevator is moving, you can feel it. When did he press a button? Where are you going?

" Santi. " You begin, getting his attention quickly. His smile broadens, apparently liking the sound of his name in your voice. " Where am I? "

The demon inhales, looking this way and that, machinating an answer. The look on his face tells you to take what he says with a grain of salt. " This is... An entertainment establishment, you could say. I work here. "

So this is a fancy haunted whore house? Great. He must have noticed the thousand yard stare that crossed over your features, because he makes a quiet snort.

" Don't worry, no one will dare to try anything with me around. "

Honestly, you doubt that a little. Yes, he's big and powerful looking, but so was that large blue monster, and that one in the cloak. What if there's bigger ones than Santi who aren't willing to play nice? What if someone else decides they want the human tied like a present?! You'll never be safe here. You need to make it out as soon as possible. This one looks so calm, and demons are creatures of exchange -Even if often unfair- So you might be able to convince this one to let you go, with enough effort.

A beat of silence passes. The fact that the elevator just keeps on going is irking you. How many floors are there on this dump? Shifting around in Santi's grip, you find a wall practically covered in buttons. Good lord, what the fuck. There's no way that's all stuffed in this weird building.

" Hey uhm... " You try to smile, a wobbling look. " Can we make a deal? I know this isn't usually how it's done for your kind, but I really need to leave. " Masterfully worded, very persuasive.

Santi's brows rise, he gives you this incredulous "really now?" look, and his fingers drum on your arm. " Mm, a deal you say? "

You don't like how intense his look is. " Y-Yes. "

" And, hypothetically, what would you be willing to trade for such? "

Good question.

Well, you know what type of demon he is, so there's probably only one type of offering he wants, the carnal type. You think quietly for a moment... One sex act for freedom. Not the worst that can happen, right? Not ideal either, but from everyone you've seen so far, this monster is one of the most attractive, it would be easier for you to get into it. To accept.

" Uhm- I can... I'll let you f-feed on me? " Your cheeks burn. " I won't struggle, whatever you want- I'm not too experienced but I'll do my best. "

Santi lets out a sharp exhale, something that reminds you of a steaming kettle. When you have the nerve to look back at his face, his eyes are lidded and he licks his sharpened teeth with gusto. A rumbling purr echoes across the large elevator, like your lackluster answer somehow really pleased him. Baffling.

" How generous of you, my sweet vixen. " He finally replies, head dipping to nuzzle slightly at your disheveled hair. He places a kiss there and you balk inwardly... Are all incubi this affectionate? Or is this just part of the game for him? You don't have much contact with his kind, all things considered. His next words are soul-crushing. " I don't think I can take you up on that offer however. "

" Buh- But! There's- "

You're interrupted.

" But nothing, sweetheart. " He tuts. " Don't give me that sad look, I'm doing this for your own good. " The glare you give him in return is ignored. " You wouldn't make it out there. Today's a big day, our guests will be arriving soon, you don't want to get caught by some opportunistic scum right as you think you're safe, hm? "

What the demon says gives you pause. Big day, big day, they keep saying that. What does it mean? Whatever, it doesn't matter. He's clearly not letting you go anytime soon, and pushing the topic is probably not going to help you in the long run.

" So... Where are you taking me? "

" In that state? " Santi shakes his head. " Nowhere dear. "

You don't get to stew in the confusing answer for long, because as soon as he speaks, the doors to the elevator part, and you're in a whole new sections of the building you've yet to see. A long, purple-ish hall seems to spread out infinitely, doors upon doors facing each other on each side, each one with a specific number. Rooms, like a hotel. Is he taking you to his room? Does he live here?

Santi walks out confidently, silent but hasty. Although the hall is mostly silent, you'll occasionally catch a clipped noise or two- Maybe motel is a more apt descriptor. You can't help but pale a couple shades at the insinuation. Well, that's on you for picking the incubus.

You half expect him to stop on door "069", putting aside the fact that it's mindboggling how many doors this place has. This entire structure makes no sense, you have no idea what type of magic you're witnessing. Instead, he halts at "071". You're glad the hall didn't start at "001", otherwise he'd take a small eternity to reach his own room, which is hilarious honestly.

That small moment of humor just about perishes as soon as the door is opened. You note, with no small amount of skepticism, that he purely turned the knob. Why does he leave his door open, isn't he worried about his personal belongings getting stolen? The room itself is heavy on the eyes, all deep scarlets, blacks and the occasional pink. Luxurious, it definitely sets the mood he's going for- Intimate. You get glimpses of shelves above the bed and on other walls, furnished with what you can only call an almost enviable collection of toys.

" How do you like my little corner, love? " Santi suddenly asks, jolting you.

" Ah- Well, it's uh... Pretty. " Yes, let's leave it at that. " Do you live here, in this place? "

The monster snickers. " Oh no no, this is just where I usually take my clients. "

" Oh. "

Before you know it, you're being gently laid onto that large king-sized bed, shaking at the sight of him essentially on top of you. It's- It's just going to happen? Like this? So soon? You barely learned his name, you're not ready to just be touched like this, no way-

" Hey... Hey now. " Dark fingers snap in front of your hazy eyes, halting the motions of panic for a second. You gulp. " Deep breaths, baby, I just want to get you out of that wrapping. Aren't you sore? "

Naturally, of course you are. A warm hand brushes over your cheek, thumb tracing circles on it. Somehow, in some way, the contact makes you calm down, nodding slightly. " That's what I thought. Lay down, I'll be quick. "

Doing as told, you focus on the mahogany ceiling, trying not to think about the fact that you'll be bare to him. Calm down, he's probably seen so many bodies in his lifetime, you're nothing special to him. He won't even care. Although the demon could easily use a claw to shred the wrapping around your figure, he gingerly takes one end of the bow and pulls- Slow, deliberate, giving himself a show. Your breasts are the first part of you to be revealed, nipples perked from the chill of being cold and exposed. He's silent, but something else whooshes around, presumably that thick tail. When he grabs your upper body to remove the fabric trapped beneath, you swear those fingers spread across your skin purposely, claw tracing the rim of your buttons. For a hellspawn, his expression is almost saintly as he does this.

You're twisted and turned like a prized toy while he goes about untangling you, squirming slightly from the stimulus. You wish he'd hurry the fuck up, but he has slowed even more now that he's about to uncover your pussy, lifting your leg against him. The jovial humming doesn't help. Your eyes shut as soon as cold air is felt against your genitals, you don't know what face he's making when he pauses, nor do you feel brave enough to peek. You hope you aren't visibly wet, the mere fact you have to worry about it is embarrassing. Eventually however, he resumes, lowering said limb and ridding you of the material entirely, leaving you free on his silken sheets.

" There we are, my present unwrapped. " Santi jokes.

Although your body begs you to stretch, you cover yourself instead, earning a laugh from the male.

" Come now, don't hide, it's a gorgeous view. " He's not helping, especially not when he keeps wetting his teeth. " In any case, I assume you'd like to shower? "

Oh yes, yes you would. " Yes, please. "

Santi's eyelid twitches for a second. Weird. He recovers quickly, standing, offering you a hand with a grin. It takes a couple or resigned seconds before you cease covering yourself and take it, being led to a door you had entirely missed amidst your cursory glance at the room. Predictably, it hides only a fairly standard bathroom, keeping the theme of the room by being mostly black and sleek in design. The shower is modern-looking and open. There are several rails around. Somehow, you don't think all of those are for towels.

" You'll have to excuse me, love. Most of the products I have here are neutral. " And, sure enough, he's right. You don't recognize most of the brands at all.

" Uhm, thank you. " You scratch nervously at your arm, but it feels like that's the right thing to say here.

He didn't need to do this for you. While you're still very skeptical, fact of the matter is Santi brought you to a room where hopefully no one else will enter, got rid of your binds, and is now offering you a place to clean yourself. He's being... Kind, all things considered. Not kind enough to let you leave, but mildly considerate.

A hint of color graces those pallid cheeks. " Oh don't mention it, go ahead. " Your hair is ruffled playfully.

Momentarily on auto-pilot, you climb under the large shower head and are about to turn it on, when instinct tells you to pause. Eyes find the hues still glued to you. Santi hasn't moved a muscle. The incubus frowns when you start shrinking into yourself again.

" Is something wrong? " He says, like this is the most natural thing in the world.

" N-No, I- "

" If you don't want to shower, that's all right- "

" No no, I do! "

He tilts his head. " Then don't let me stop you. "

You blink. Oh, so this is the game he's playing. Alright, it's clear he's not leaving, you're just going to have to shower in front of him. Could be worse. Sighing, and turning around in spite of survival instincts, you turn the faucet on and wait for the water to be warm enough to slip under. The wave of warmth is comforting, reassuring, making you forget about where you are momentarily. As if cleaning yourself from the grime of that garden and the floor has somehow transported you home, to safety. You're reaching for the shampoo when a harsh shiver crawls up your spine. Something's wrong.

A shadow casts itself over you, and soon, the water stops hitting you altogether. You've never gotten goosebumps so quickly in your life before.

A chuckle sounds from above, way too close. " Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to steal the warmth for myself. " Suddenly, a broad arm coils over your front, dragging you flushed against a sturdy body. Rigid as a plank, you can only shudder and gasp.

" Wh- Why are you...? "

" You don't mind if I shower too, right dear? "

If that isn't the lousiest excuse then you have no idea what else could be. You're not exactly in a position to demand he leave his own shower however, and frankly, keeping yourself in this one's good graces is a good idea, so you only shake your head, trying to focus on your hair.

Not for long. It's hard to ignore him so close to you, especially when his hands find purchase on your hips, and he blankets you like a lazy, purring cat. There's no ignoring things when both those paws start trailing different paths, one upwards to your right tit, and the other trailing to your mons.

" S-Santi please- "

Your squirming is easily quelled with a tighter grip. " Shh- " He kisses at the back of your neck, licking the length of it in a way that causes you to shudder hard and your toes to curl slightly. It's a simple act, but somehow, it's having a much larger effect on you than it should. " I know, you're stressed, you've been through a lot today already, I just want to help you relax... "

Finally, his fingers glide over your pussy, and you know he can feel the arousal pooled there. Hell, he was probably able to smell it as soon as he laid you on that bed. He pats at you playfully for a second, rolling a nipple with his other hand, before grinding fat digits over your clit. Cornered, not really knowing what to do with yourself, you hang onto the rail in front of you while your legs tremble and squeeze around his expert fingers. Santi's not being slow and gentle about it, knowing exactly how to roll that bud to get you arching in pleasure.

When you lean back onto him, spine curved, unaware you're even doing such, your mouth opens and you're not quite sure what you want to say- Stop? Don't stop? Harder? Why are you doing this? You're confused, and the only thing that comes out is a whined moan, which has Santi growling in approval. His head dips to catch your parted lips with his, and it's at the first taste of his tongue that you realize...

You're making a big deal out of nothing.

The demon's lips are gentle, coaxing you into moving with him, but ultimately being domineering in the way that muscle leaves no room for yours to steer. There's something indescribably addictive about his taste, you've never had such a good kisser before, purposeful motions seem intent on feeding you more of his drool, copious amounts of it, dripping down your chin. The sloppy embrace paired with his restless motions on your pussy have you moaning high against him. It's Santi's turn to shiver, there's something decidedly large being pressed against your ass, but you can't bring yourself to care anymore. The sparks of an approaching orgasm kill off just about most of your higher brain functions and you only pant against the demon, holding onto his arms, rocking into that merciless hand.

It hits you like a train.

You don't remember the last time you came so hard, from something so simple too. But it feels perfect. Making a noise you barely recognize as yours, you clench hard against nothing and beg senselessly, an insupportable wave of heat settling within you like a roaring fire. Orgasms are supposed to relieve, how come you only feel needier now?! It's hard to think, it's almost as if there's a tint to your vision, everything but him and his body erased from sight and mind.

" Wha- Why-?! " You mumble, whining in confusion. There's something dripping down your thighs, though not for long, as it's collected and cleaned by the demon behind you, before the cascading water could steal it from him.

" What's wrong? " Santi lulls, turning you around while he slurps greedily at the last of his digits. " That didn't help, sweetie? "

Frustrated, you just shake your head and groan, uncomfortable. His gums show for a fraction of a second.

" Really? " Fast nodding. " Oh, that won't do then. Here- " The shower is turned off, and though you shiver, it makes you feel slightly less irritated. " Let's fix that, yes dear? "

There's no hint of skepticism when the monster starts leading you out of the bathroom, still wet and dripping, and lays you back onto his bed. Albeit fogged with discomfort and relentless arousal, you fixate on Santi's form above you. Massive, built, you could just bite into any part of him. He's so hot, you have no idea how you controlled yourself all this time- You'd have ridden him in front of his wackjob friends if you had no self-control. Glazed hues falling, the shape that nudged you before is all too clear now, bobbing between thick black thighs. Something whose sight alone would make a slightly more lucid version of you run for the hills.

Now though? You can't even decide where you want to put it first. Somewhat barbed on the underside and dark in coloration, spotted even, you struggle to understand how he keeps that all in his slit. " Y-... You're huge. "

He barks out a laugh, though recovers quickly, like it's something he gets to hear frequently. Your face is grasped by two hands, soothing circles rubbed over your cheeks while your lips are mushed together, maybe just so he can thrill himself. " Mm yeah? Don't worry, you won't feel a pinch, doll. Promise. "

You're not sure how much you buy that, but fact of the matter is you wish he'd do something already, you're burning up! As if listening to your internal cursing, the monster crowds you beneath him, cock gliding teasingly over your folds, never even so much as catching on the rim of your entrance. He doesn't appear to be in a rush, looking down at the show, then grinning wide when you groan and fist the sheets.

" Hurry up already! " You're not going to beg him, that's so filthy. Though some part of you doesn't abhor the idea that much...

" That bad, hm? " He doesn't move a muscle, which has you this close to clawing at him in rage. Entirely amused with your theatrics, Santi lines himself up... And does nothing. You may not be the demon here, but you feel as if you could start crawling walls any moment now.

" F-Fucker! "

" Not my name, but not wrong either. " He jokes. " Wasn't it you who was scared about my size mere moments ago? "

Your response to the jabbing is to take matters into your own hands, scooting forward while he holds himself. It was easier and faster than you expected, his entire length sinks into you far too smoothly, the only sensations registered being a pleasant stretch and the lovely pressure of finally having him inside you. It feels right, it feels perfect, feels like you've been wasting time until this moment. It shouldn't be this easy, you should be yelping with pain, bleeding maybe, what's happening anymore? Ohhh, but then those ridges drag onto something nice and your legs spasm, head thrown back into a feverish moan, doubts cast to the fire of your own libido. Distantly, you can hear him making a similar noise, as if to join you, edging just the smallest bit forth to bury his entire cock to the hilt.

It's impossible. You've never taken anything remotely close to him within yourself. And yet, on the first try, you've welcomed Santi. Even if your hormone-addled mind doesn't fully comprehend how, a wave of pride consumes you. Of raw animal satisfaction. A heavy hand comes down to feel the imprint of his own girth, and you're sure your eyes rolled into your skull for a second as he pressed down.

" Look at that, love- The whole thing. Didn't I promise you it'd be fine? " The male pants. Wherever his fingers glide, a blissful sensation spreads. Your body doesn't know what to do with itself under his influence, clenching and flexing, you're not sure if you'd like to beg him to stop touching or to never take his hands off you. The incubus gazes pensively at your mons, digits tapping, before the contact ceases altogether and the disappointment is so intense you actually tear up. " Oh, you're just the cutest fucking thing. "

He dips closer to you, miraculously managing to not move a muscle in his legs. " I'm glad you picked me, otherwise I might have had to drag you out myself. That wouldn't have been pretty. "

The mental image alone, albeit grotesque, snaps something inside your twisting mind, and you move. With no real technique or guidance, you grind back and forth on his pride, frustrated that he won't fuck you and unwilling to be tortured any longer. It's clumsy, though his slurred, excited expletives only make you work harder, breaking a sweat as you try to find a pace and angle to better fuck yourself on him.

" Ohh ffuck, you like that thought, don't you? " His grin is wolfish. " Me too. Maybe that's what I should have done to begin with. " His voice ghosting around your earlobe is driving you insane. " No one would even care if they found me fucking the brains out of you in that elevator, you know? "

By the way Santi throbs inside you, he should have given in and started rutting into you, it's confusing why he hasn't yet. Though honestly, the suggestions he's tossing at you could make you see stars on their own. " Hhn- W- Why won't you-? "

The demon snorts, a goading digit feathering over your clit every time you sink onto him. " Why won't I... ? "

" Why won't you just fuck me?! " It sounded more like a miserably cry than the yell you meant it to be, which is mildly embarrassing.

" Hah! " The demon cackles, and in those sharp pupils, behind all that charm and dazzle, you find the malice only a fiend of Hell could sport. The mercilessness of his roots. " But you're doing such a good job on your own, darling. It's not everyday I get to savor this kind of desperation. "

When he's arrogant enough to bring his thumb to your parted lips, perhaps hoping you'd suck it for him, you bite instead- A risky move, but risk is the last thing in your mind right now.

The monster grunts, chuffs something incomprehensible, then moves in a blur. The last thing you see are shrunk pupils and scarlet, drool-soaked gums before you're swiped onto your stomach, earning a faceful of wet pillow.

He slams home in a blink, bulldozing past a bundle of nerves that has you crying into said pillow. The weight of the demon on top of you is equal parts suffocating as it is thrilling. You know you're trapped, but it's exactly what you want. Finally, finally, he starts moving, and the crests of pleasure from each plow have your muscles going taught, waves of hot and cold wiping every minuscule bloom of a thought as your second orgasm barrels through your body.

You know you screamed, made some sort of hideous noise, because Santi grips a fistful of your hair so he can see the face you make while you cream yourself hard around his cock. " Fuck yess, there you go, better? Is that better, sweetie? Does it feel good? "

As if the fact you're drooling wasn't enough of an answer. Sweet nothings blur into nothing as you merely nod and grunt. There's another sloppy, rushed kiss shared between you, the demon's erratic pistons making things hard, you end up licking his face in an attempt to fetch his tongue again and the two of you laugh for a brief moment- You've never felt so high.

Unfortunately, much to your chagrin, the relief of your second climax is even shorter than the first one, and you're once again submerged in what feels like twofold the intensity of your arousal. It's horrifying. What's happening? Why won't it stop? Why won't he fuck you harder?

Aware you're sweating bullets but covered in goosebumps, you push your ass up and out against Santi, squeezing around him. He picks up the pace, rocking you, making bestial noises you've never heard from a man before. If this keeps going for much longer, you fear your brain might fry itself to a horny crisp. " Come in me! F-Fucking- Fill me- Do something, Santi please! "

It's hard to tell given he's panting rather loudly, but you think he's breathlessly laughing at your discomfort. You don't think it's funny at all! But then, his spine snaps back straight and he grabs your hips hard enough to feel your bones, you're forcibly drilled onto his cock with a level of strength that has you smiling open-mouthed like a drunk fool, the happiest cocksock in the world. Something wet slaps onto your ass, you can only guess he's drooling. There's a snarl that shakes the walls, or maybe just you, and he seats you on his fat cock for the last time before doing exactly as you requested- Bloating you with cum.

It's hot. Literally hot, his load almost burns inside your cunt, something between tingling and scalding, each rope of it making you shudder hard while a third, less intense orgasm makes your pussy flutter to milk him dry. You fully expect to be taken by another, harsher wave of fucklust, but surprisingly- It never happens. Instead, you just relax more and more, sinking onto crimson silk with a groan as you deflate.

The demon murmurs reassuring words you barely register as he pulls out, petting your oversensitive pussy and peppering kisses against your sweaty back. You feel him bite softly on your neck, chuckling at your fucked out state.

" What a filling meal you've been. " The monster sighs, laying beside you on the mattress and pulling you closer to himself. " I'd fuck you to my last breath. " Maybe that was meant to be romantic, you're not sure. Your face can't possibly heat up more. " But let's not get ahead of ourselves, you need your rest. "

" Close your eyes... I'll be here. "

And, exhausted as you are, sleep comes easily.

He's reading by the time he feels you stir beside him.

You've been conked out for a couple of hours, which makes Santi feel a little bit self-conscious. Maybe he exerted a lot of magic over you, but he wanted to make the most out of his little conquest- And seeing you in a quasi-heat was just so hot... Nonetheless, he knows that took a lot out of your body, and it's his responsibility to make sure you don't fall ill because of it.

Having already cleaned himself up, the demon picked one of the newest best sellers and flipped through chapter after chapter. He wouldn't just leave you here alone while you slumber defenseless, he's not stupid enough for that. His coworkers would try something. Santi's all for sharing a cute piece of ass, on his terms though. Truth be told, he's not paying attention to any of the words on those yellowed pages, he's read this one before, different things conjure in his mind's eye instead.

Mainly, Santi's wondering about how to best spend the rest of the day with you. He already canceled plenty of clients out, something he usually hesitates greatly with- Yet the incubus found it very easy to do this time. You just taste divine, he needs more of your lust, it's so filling even in small doses. You're full of it. Plus, he's very charmed that you willingly wanted to come with him, out of everyone in the team. He knows some of them might have looked friendlier than him, it's endearing that you liked him that much.

Santi almost marked you. Almost. The urge was there, the opportunity was golden, he could have stamped you as his right then and there- But ultimately, he thinks he'd regret doing it so soon. Your fate is unwritten, the incubus isn't too sure what'll be of you once the day is over. What if his higher up decides you're going to the warehouse? Or to be trained by Nebul? Santi needs to be ready to negotiate with Admin when the time comes. And he needs to be ready to face reality, if you're taken from his claws...

Ugh, he's really not looking forward to that. You're an adorable little thing. He can't wait to dress you up and head out to the other floors, flaunt you a little maybe.

Sure, Santi would have liked a wider range of clothes to pick from, certainly something with impeccable quality- But there's only so much he can do while inside The Clergy. He can't leave your side for too long. That's why he had Grimbly bring him discarded clothes from Morell's perished piglets. Out of a sizeable pile of fabrics, Santi salvaged only a loose white blouse, stained with some blood on the hems, and a pair of torn shorts. Less than ideal, but he's sure they'll fit you, and that's what matters.

Honestly, he'd prefer to lead you out naked, but you're in no state for that, at least not anymore. If the demon had suggested that earlier, you probably would have loved the sound of it. Alas, a concubus can dream.

His plan for now is to take you a couple floors down once you wake up, give you a little reward for taking this so well. Speaking of, he might have spaced out for a few minutes there, but he's definitely feeling eyes on him now. Gaze veering right, he finds his little present openly studying him. He can't help the quip that tugs at his dark lips.

" You really know how to make a man feel gorgeous, hm? "

Predictably, you turn away immediately. Santi snickers. " ... Don't flatter yourself. "

Oh, attitude? Good, that's the spirit. Santi claps his book shut and sets it on the bedside table, giving you his full attention. You're no longer wet from the shower, but there's a sheen of sweat on you, marks of his cum on your legs make a gross part of his brain want to clean it himself. Better not let it linger, he can't be tempted to drag you into another round so soon.

" Dear, how about you get an actual shower in, you must be hungry, no? "

Sure enough, you nod, peeling yourself out of the bed with a light sway. Whoops, that's on him. Santi doesn't follow you into the bathroom this time, setting the clothes he retrieved on the edge of the bed. When you come back, drying yourself off with a towel and examining the cloths, you have the intellect not to question where they came from or why there's blood on them. The sight doesn't please you much however, he can tell. The demon almost wants to reach for his slit when you casually dress up in front of him. It seems the more time he spends around you, the more he longs for another hit of your delicious desire.

You're not fast enough to predict the sharp slap across your ass as soon as you're fully dressed, yelping like an animal.

" Good as new, aren't you? " The demon humors. " Ready to be wined and dined? "

You actually giggle at that, making the monster beam subtly. " ... Shouldn't that have been the first step? "

" We do things a bit differently here, love. " He winks. If only you knew just how differently... " Now come, let me spoil you some. "

You appear less skittish around him, following Santi into the same elevator you got here from. Naturally, that changes as soon as you get a glance at the restaurant floor.

Hours have passed since he took you to his room, which means many guests have already poured in, an absurd number actually. The place is crowded enough to grow hot, reminding Santi of Hell. Which is fitting, because today's guests of honor inside The Clergy's Eye are none other than the Lords of Perdition.

It certainly explains the sheer amount of demons in the premises. Santi's good mood drops noticeably as he senses several concubi around. In his territory. Eating his meals. The monster almost snarls as he steps out, grip tight on your wrist, eyes bright in blatant aggression. Others are wise enough to give him a decent berth.

Santi has to tell himself to calm down. Deep breaths, he's here to get you something to eat, not pick fights with vermin.

" S- Santi...? " Your soft voice grounds him some.

You look terrified. And there's more than enough reason for such. Not only is the crowd here very rowdy and prone to violence, several demons brawling and arguing- Others are tossing wounded humans around like party confectionery, which they technically are. The ones moving around linger to glance at you, giving Santi mischievous looks he pointedly ignores. No, he doesn't want to show you off in this type of crowd at all.

" Yes, darling? " A forced smile sits on his lips.

" W... What is that? "

He squints, following the direction in which your finger points, finding a gigantic yellow form amidst the sea of people ahead. A serpentine monster woman lounges in a fancy booth, swallowing plates whole and occasionally scooping lesser demons into her unhinged jaws. Her jovial laughter creates an air of chaos in the floor.

" That would be the Queen of Gluttony, dear. " He casually points out.

Your eyes widen. " A-Am I- Are we- "

" In Hell? " The incubus' grin softens. " Not even close, though tonight, it might as well b- "

" SANTI, IS THAT YOU THERE, MY OLD FRIEND? "

Both of you freeze.

The incubus' heart nearly comes out his throat. There's only one demon who could own that voice. Santi pulls you flush against his side as frantic lime hues scour the entire floor. Behind him, another Icon is seated in an equally lush booth adequate to his size.

Vesper. The King of Lust. His King, technically, before he vowed himself to Krulu.

The Icon of carnality offers the two of you a hungry grin, ever bright pools of magenta fixated on you like the eyes of a hawk. The rest of the crowd blinks at the lust demon, wondering if he's brave enough to ignore of a King of Hell who calls him by name. Of course he's not. Especially not Vesper. There's history between them.

" Wh- Who's that? " You whisper quietly, latched onto his arm. In other circumstances, he'd be very happy to have you glued to him.

" ... The lord of Lust. " He murmurs back between grit teeth, straining a confident grin as he waves at the two-mouthed demonlord.

Vesper's head tendril sways back and forth along with his tail, he shoos his arm candy away and makes a beckoning gesture, eyes now burning onto you. Santi can't help feeling there's something odd about the demonlord's excitement, but he knows he's going to have to approach regardless of his gut feeling.

When he makes to close the distance, the force of your static self halts him. The soles of your bare feet dig into the ground. You look like a deer in the headlights, stuck gawking at the massive pink demon. In a way, Santi's not surprised by your reaction. If he already had such an intense effect on you, then Vesper's going to break your mind into tiny pieces.

The demon's inviting expression morphs into a much more serious one as he shifts to be in front of you. " Listen to me, hotstuff. You don't have to be scared of him, okay? I know he's... Intense-looking, but he probably just wants to catch up with me. " Santi tries to ease your nerves, but it doesn't look like it's working. Sighing, he blinks at you a couple times, lashes rippling and eyes swirling a brilliant green, forcing some ease into you. " How about we make some small talk, and then get you a decent meal? "

Although you nod slowly, it's clear you're not sold on the idea. It's as good as he'll get, Santi supposes. He's aware the two of you are still being observed while he strolls towards the lord. Santi's used to staring, you though? Not so much, poor thing.

When you stand before the large Icon, Santi's sure that, if you had a tail, it would be tucked between your legs. But you haven't stopped looking at him for a second either, the incubus almost feels jealous.

" Your highness. " He nods respectfully.

" Oh ho, none of that here, sweetheart. Tonight, you know me as Vesper. " The demonlord waves a hand, then bends to observe you two much closer, enough to jolt you a little. " I'm so very glad to see you're enjoying my gift! "

Time freezes. A lot of things become clear in a fraction of a second.

" Ha, I almost felt bad leaving her in the garden like that, you poor little baby. " Vesper coos, tickling under your chin briefly as he titters before focusing on Santi. " Of course you were the one who got to her first, I expected nothing less from one of my own. "

Not exactly how things went down, but there's no reason for Santi to contradict such a flattering image of himself. " Truly? This was your doing? How generous of you. "

" Keep it between us, yes Santi? " The King tosses a wink at him, fluffing his neck. " Now sit you two, let's enjoy our time here a bit... "

Large lavander hands pat at the ample purple cushions next to him. The look on his face is less requesting than it is demanding.

Santi has no reason to fear, but he can almost hear your heart thundering next to him. He slips a warm palm down to the small of your back, trying to offer some soothing contact even as he edges you forward gently.

One of the elevators dings nearby, opening to release a small group of drunk monsters.

#Santi oc #Vesper oc #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #terato #terat0philliac #monsterfucker #not sfw #minors dni

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elvisabutler · 10 months

Text

she's there watching for me

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x female reader word count: 2593 warnings: p in v sex ( unprotected ). insecurity regarding weight. the word fat being used in the narrative. implied breastfeeding kink. light sub elvis. mommy kink. light dom reader. implication that elvis is girthier than normal when he hasn't had release in a while. brief mention of pills/detoxing. elvis is a selkie. bit of fingering. use of the words mama and baby boy. a hefty chunk of belly worship. author’s note: welcome to day 3 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, mommy kink with selkie elvis presley x reader. so for context i feel like i need to make it clear, so the original selkie au i wrote was set pretty much in a timeframe of about 1971 to 1973. basically allowed y'all to read it and decide which age you wanted elvis at. i erred more toward '73 in my mind mostly because that was pretty close to 40 and i had made the comment in the fic about him being surprised he got that close to forty. that being said, this means the more time that passed in the universe the closer i was getting to 1977. i— have never intended this to have a sad ending. honestly if y'all must know out of all the series i've inadvertently written, this has the most gentle ending other than spark for elvis as far as when he eventually dies. so this takes place in an alternate 1978 where elvis is still alive and is about big daddy build. there is also a hint to the future breastfeeding kink fill and a little surprise in here. know that— the fact that a certain name does not have the middle name attached to it is important. also if you have no idea what this series/verse is, the masterlist is right here. beyond that long winded author's note, special thanks to @stylespresleyhearted and @eliseinmemphis for being my feral little gremlins. to @prompted-wordsmith for being seal!!! always and to my discord wives, birdy, christi and marina, y'all know i love you till the end of time. also once again, i really do love how y'all liked this and received it and live to see your thoughts on my writing.

"Mama." A sleepy murmur leaves Elvis's lips, a pout firmly planted on them as he feels your side of the bed. It's empty and starting to chill, a common occurrence when you're not occupying it. You always forget that he's a bit of a light sleeper until a certain hour of the night when you think his brain and body finally shut off. That hour of the night was at least two hours away but you were for once experiencing your own sleeping issues caused by one Lisa Marie, one John Baron and one little Jesse. A bit of a bug had found itself circulating around the younger three in the house and you found yourself taking care of your little seal pups. After all you were if nothing else, a good seal wife. A good seal wife who happens to be sneaking into your own bedroom like a guilty woman.

"You should have already been sleeping. Didn't you keep telling me how exhausted you were?" You ask, sliding into bed next to Elvis, your hand cupping his face. "I think you dozed off on the way home from the concert."

Elvis can't help but flush a bit in embarrassment as he looks at you, trying to come up with some excuse. "Can't— Feel all keyed up...ya know how I get 'fter a show. Can't go swimmin' to burn it off." He licks his lips, watching the way your chest moves up and down in your nightgown, "jus' worried 'bout how the paper's gonna talk 'bout me."

"It's Memphis, Elvis. They're not going to talk about you like everyone else, you're their son. Honorary King of the city," your hands move to his front, brushing against his stomach, marveling at the feel of the silk of his pajama top and how it reminds you of his skin. "That why you're wearing a shirt to bed? Hiding it away from me?"

It meaning his stomach. Elvis looks away and shrugs. "Mama— don't. I know 'm still packin' on some weight." He had thought when he met you it was just his body betraying him, trying to blubber up like a true seal and it had fluctuated enough as you helped him sweat out his uppers and his downers and everything that wasn't strictly required. He thought maybe you'd get something resembling the man you met all those years ago.

But you always take such good care of him and he should have realized that when you made sure he was well fed with his pups that his own body— his genetics would rear their head and he'd stay a stocky and fat sort of man no matter what exercise he did. Damn human body seems to think he needs blubber as much as he does as as a seal.

"And? Are we not married? Did I agree to love you no matter what?" Even as you try and answer a little flippantly your eyes dart across his face and his body looking for a tell-tale sign that you pushed too hard with that retort but only see a shrug. "I know my pussy doesn't have your tongue, so Elvis— you want to answer?"

"Yes, Mama," he whispers, shifting in the bed a little at the way your tone shifts from purely loving to one that's just commanding enough that he has to focus on breathing and willing his cock to stay down. You're both exhausted but damn if lil Elvis isn't wanting to bury himself so tight in your snatch that he has no choice but to sleep afterward.

At the word Mama you feel your toes curl just a little bit at how it sounds leaving his lips. It's not the first time he's ever called you Mama, after all, you are the step mother to his daughter and the mother to his sons. There's something in his tone though, something that has your body strumming with what you've affectionately dubbed your seal wife sense that tells you something is off. This is different. "You don't have to call me Mama when we're not talking about the pups, Elvis."

Elvis's tongue darts out to lick at his lips as one of your breasts finally makes an escape from the top of your nightgown. You hear the sharp inhale of his breath before without warning his face burrows into your chest frowning at how they don't feel full of milk and pulling you close as his arms wrap around you. "Ain't callin' ya it 'cause of the pups, Mama."

A shiver passes through you at his hot breath against your chilled chest. He's not just calling you Mama because of the pups. You're— you take care of him as well as anyone would take care of a baby boy, don't you? You make sure his meds are taken, make sure no one takes advantage of him when he doesn't want to bother with particulars. You make sure everything is in tip top shape with him and everyone around you. You're his Mama too, aren't you?

Your words come out a unintentionally a little shaky, your nerves starting to get the best of you before you finally ask a simple question. "Do you want Mama to take care of you? Show you how much she loves you?"

Elvis very rarely sounds like a seal when he's in his human form. He very rarely can make the specific vocalizations he needs to in order to achieve it but sometimes even with his body in his human form, he can manage it. You swear you see a flash of his skin, almost as if he wants to shift before you hear the whimper and whine against your skin in between kisses to your chest. "Please."

Denying Elvis isn't something you're good at since you came back together and especially since you've been married. He is the love of your life, the seal to your seal wife but you need to have the control today, he needs to cede over his control to you for you to take care of him. It's with that knowledge in hand that you push him away from your chest even as you hear a growl and a whine fall from his lips. Your hands push on his chest, forcing him to lay down even as one hand moves to unbutton his shirt, exposing his chest hair to you first and then exposing his stomach— that filled out out swell that tell the story of how you're taking care of him and damn anyone who'd say anything different about it even if you know sometimes his body acts up and makes things twist and turn and hurt him. Your hands run through his chest hair as you move to kiss his lips and down his neck to his chest where you nip at both his nipples earning two short barks of surprise. When you reach his stomach you feel him shift more, his hips bucking just a little as if to distract you and get you to move down to his aching cock that you haven't even touched but is pressing against the bottom of his stomach. Precum starts to smear against the underside of his stomach and he needs you do something to it.

"Did Mama say you could move, baby boy?" You coo as you rub his stomach, hands forcing the silk of the shirt completely away and exposing his bare torso to you. "Let Mama show you how much she loves this. How she has to stop herself from grinding her beaver on it. You'd like that, wouldn't you, baby? Want Mama to come on this big stomach of yours? Have the hair on it all shiny from my come?"

As you talk you feel yourself growing more and more aroused, your underwear quickly becoming drenched despite him not even touching you. You can't help but grind a little against him, leaving a little wet spot where your nightgown and underwear block your body from his. A whimper that almost sounds like an angry growl leaves his mouth as he tries to keep himself from moving. His hands itch to grab your hips, to tear your panties off in a fit of animalistic fervor and bunch up your nightgown so he can sink his cock between your folds and feel just how drenched for him you are. What he does do is move to take off his pants only to have your hand grab at his wrist. "Patience."

"Ya teasin', Mama," he grunts out a warning, trying to act as if he's not cededing all control to you. You aren't focusing where he needs you to and that just won't do. "Gonna come in my pants if ya don't do somethin'. Wanna feel that tight—"

His words are cut off when you use the grip you have on his wrist to bring his hand to between your legs, his fingers easily gliding into your glistening cunt. The only thing that leaves his mouth is a groan of pleasure, his head falling back as he allows himself to play with your clit. You don't stop him.

"So needy, my baby boy." You tease as you maneuver to take off his pants, pulling them down just enough that you can hear the smear of his cock against his stomach. Hear how he's leaking so much already that you won't really even have to prep yourself. You had originally planned to suck at it, to put it in your mouth until it managed to stand at attention but that isn't needed tonight, is it? No, he's ready and aching and throbbing in your hand as you grip it. Your other hand moves to lift up his stomach just enough to fully expose his cock as you slide the foreskin down to reveal it in all its glory. You can't help but lick your lips and clench around Elvis's fingers.

"Christ, Mama." He curses as his cock twitches, begging to be buried inside of you. He pulls out his fingers and moves them to his mouth, watching you with hooded eyes and labored breaths as he sucks on them, tongue taking in every last bit of your juices. His fingers leave his mouth with a pop. "Taste so fuckin' sweet. Please help me out."

"Don't I always?" The words slip from your lips with a smile as Elvis's eyes look up at you through his eyelashes and he gives you the same answering smile. You take a moment to pull yourself on top of him and situate yourself before you sinking down ever so slowly. Your breathing sync up, becoming shorter as you get more and more of his cock inside you. This isn't the first time you've had sex, far from it but it's the first time Elvis has truly given you this much control over what's happening between you. A whisper of his name escapes your lips as you move down to kiss him softly at first before worrying his bottom lip between your teeth. It reminds you of your first kiss with him and from how he shakes underneath you— you think he remembers too. "Baby boy, you're— you feel bigger than normal. You've been needing Mama that bad all night? Got it all pent up inside you?"

He nods, not trusting how his voice is going to sound. Figuring it'd take on a high pitched quality it hasn't had since he was first starting out or even from before then. You might be his Mama and he's your boy that you take care of so well but— he can't let ya hear him like that. Almost as if you sense he's holding back, one of your hands moves to cup his face, brushing your fingers against his sideburns until you reach his hair. You yank just a little at some of the strands and force him to look at you. "Don't— don't hold back for mama. Let it all out, baby boy. It isn't healthy to hold back. Let me hear you while I help lil Elvis feel better."

It's then that the floodgates open, a string of curses and growls and every noise in between leaves Elvis's mouth as you bounce in his lap, clenching your cunt every so often in between bounces. Elvis's own hips can't be contained as he thrusts up against you, earning more than a few shouts from you as you feel him deeper than he ever has been. You know from how keyed up both of you are that neither of you is going to last long, but you don't want Elvis to come before you. No, you want to come on his cock, drenching it with your release before you feel his warm release coating your insides.

"Mama— gonna come. Gotta— gonna burst. Fuckin' beaver so goddamn tight and ya tits just bouncin' like that all empty, can't even suck 'em." His words are practically gibberish but you can't help but huff out a laugh even as you grab his chin and force him to look at you, his pupils blown, lips shiny with spit and forehead with a sheen of sweat.

"Not till Mama says. Be a gentleman. Be a good boy for Mama," you practically croon at him even as your voice lilts up just a little. "Mama wants to come on your cock. Can you help Mama do that?"

"Yeah, Mama, I—Wanna help ya. Do so goddamn much for me, let me—" His words get eaten up by your lips on his and the moan you let out against them when his hand moves past his belly and your own to play with your clit, the calluses on them adding just enough friction that you don't even have time to warn Elvis before your orgasm comes, your pussy squeezing his cock tighter than it ever has as your release covers his fingers and his cock. You haven't felt the warmth of his come yet, though, and you know he's being good. Being the best boy he could be for the best mama he thinks you are. You struggle to catch your breath but manage to say one word.

"Please."

Somehow he knows what you mean by the word. Somehow he knows it's you giving him permission to finally come and release every bit of tension and insecurity that's kept him up tonight. He comes with a roar— or maybe it's a bark, but all you know is that it sounds so animalistic that it had to have done something good. It had to have achieved something for him just from how you see his head flop back against the pillow as you watch his chest and belly rise and fall with deep breaths.

After what feels like a lifetime you manage to get up and use the bathroom, grabbing a warm washcloth on your way out to try and clean up the mess between you two. Elvis practically looks like he's passed out as you clean up his cock, marveling at how it twitches just a little in your grasp— almost as if to say it wants another round. When you finally slide under the covers, you feel Elvis shift beside you and pull you closer to him, to where your head is over his chest. You can hear the steady but still quick beats of his heart.

"Thank you, Mama."

That whispered bit of thanks puts a small smile on your face. "Any time for my baby boy."

taglist: @ab4eva , @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7 @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted, @be-my-ally, @mooodyblue, @pixiedustcosmos, @jessicarcates, @amydarcimarie, @flwrs4aust, @myradiaz, @adaydreamaway08, @elirobin, @goldieharry. wanna be added to the taglist? go here and follow the directions. if i tagged you in this and you didn't want to be, give me a heads up/clarify what you really really don't wanna be tagged for. also if the tags messed up i'm sorry i hate tumblr sometimes because of it.

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfiction #austin butler elvis #austin butler elvis presley #austin elvis #austin elvis x reader #austin butler elvis x reader #ally writes #ally's wet hot smut summer #selkie!elvis

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