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#i know im safe but my body is on fire
nobodywritingao3 · 2 months
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astraystayyh · 2 months
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minho x reader. hurt/comfort. for my @rachalixie i love you 💓
you’ve never been scared of storms, never truly minded the wind rattling your windows or the bitter cold seeping through the hidden cracks of your home. you figured that the earth was allowed a moment of anger for all the burden it bears.
until tonight.
the earth was a bit angrier, the wind was more frantic, reaching inside your home and rattling your bones instead. the cold was biting, making shivers ripple through your skin no matter how tightly you pulled the cover over your body.
and then it was pitch black.
the storm suddenly felt more harmful, as if its anger was solely directed to you. and you were all alone, minho out to make sure the stray cats near your apartment were sheltered from the rain.
you freeze for a second, before turning on your phone’s flashlight and dialing minho’s number. the light is faint, flickering in and out of sight as thunder booms in your walls. you need minho.
“i’m coming upstairs,” he says upon picking up, “the power went out, right? the elevator isn’t working.”
“mm,” you hum, clutching your phone tighter, having little faith in which strangled sound your voice might conjure.
“are you scared?” he giggles, his laugh sounding like an airy bubble. you remain silent and you can hear him pause in his tracks, feel the softening of his voice before he speaks. “are you okay?” he asks again, tone much tender, making your heart ache for an entirely different reason. he always knows.
“minho, can you hurry, please?”
“i’m here,” his steps are quicker, climbing two stores at a time. you almost feel guilty if not for how badly you needed to see him, to hold his hand and to feel him close.
“i’m here,” he repeats as soon as he opens the door, voice getting lost in the booming of thunder, but you pick it up easily, shining light on the front door so he’d know where you are.
“you’re here,” you echo quietly as he crouches before you, taking your hands between his own. his lips are warm as they brush against your palm, kindling a fire right where they touch. “i didn’t know you were afraid of storms,” he speaks softly, his eyes seemingly gleaming more in the darkness.
“i’m not. it’s just the dark and the storm combined… it’s silly, right?”
“it’s okay, baby,” he coos, using the same doting tone he speaks to his cats in. “i’ll go light up some candles, okay?” he stands up and your hand wraps around his wrist instinctively, stopping him in place.
you don’t say anything, suddenly feeling embarrassed about your clinginess. you drop his wrist and he smiles softly, before scooping you up in his arms, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.
“better?” he inquires, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek before walking to the kitchen. you nod, burying your head into his neck, inhaling his scent– your laundry detergent and jasmine, coupled with intoxicating woodsy tones that never leave him.
“be honest, you just wanted an excuse to cuddle me, right?” he chuckles as he opens the drawer, retrieving four candles from there. you bite his shoulder in response before planting a kiss on that same spot.
“i was actually scared.”
“i know, baby. i was too.” his voice is too gentle in contrast to the rage taking place outside. it makes you feel lucky to have softness embodied in your home.
“were you?”
“im hugging you to stay safe,” he smiles lightly and you feel the warmth spread through your entire being. you know he’s lying, the dark never fazed minho, but he’s doing it so you’d feel less alone in your fear.
“there,” he grins as the candles come to life, lighting up your place with a warm golden glow. its light reflects on minho’s honeyed skin, as he leans back a bit to look at you. “better, right?”
“yes,” you finally smile, untangling your legs from his waist and coming down. he places a lingering kiss on your forehead, his warm hands cradling your cheeks gently. “my scared baby,” a peck to your nose. “do you want us to go to bed?” a peck to your eyelid.
you nod, “can we cuddle?”
“of course, honey.”
“and can you sing to me?” you add quietly, as his hand intwines with your own.
“anything you want.”
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iznsfw · 10 months
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You are now obliged to write an Eunbi smut
Waterbombed
IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut
5,835 words
Categories | daddy kink, anal, jealousy, squirting, breast worship, fingering, titfucking, spanking, slight exhibitionism
Sorry not sorry for the Eunbi spam—I promise I'll write the other members and other idols after this. Waterbomb Festival Eunbi is just too hot.
Enjoy.
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Tokki 🐰: oppaaaaaaaaa
This can't be good. Eunbi's bombing your phone again with ridiculous messages designed to attract your attention. It won't work today, though. You've got a lot to do, and besides that, she's equally busy. She's out there performing in some festival Woollim booked, and it's safe to say that it should have brought about only peace in your office cubicle. No videos, no flirty texts, no nada—that's how it should have been.
But one thing you've learned when dating Kwon Eunbi is to expect the unexpected. Too bad you didn't keep that in mind when you finally gave in and picked up your phone. Work can wait for a few minutes, right?
You: What is it ?
Tokki 🐰: have you seen my performance yet :]
You don't think so. The day's been too packed to make space for a quick watch.
You: Not yet love im busy
Tokki 🐰: you should oppa
becauseeeee
i really enjoyed performing at the waterbomb festival!!!!!
Waterbomb Festival?
Isn't that—
It slowly hits you, as if the information were a hesitant slap on the shoulder. Thoughts come blending into each other in your head and forming a quaky conclusion. Could it be…?
Open another tab on your work desktop. You quickly flock to YouTube. Never mind if your boss sees the history through the internet router. You have to know if your suspicions are true. 
Your experienced fingers spell out a search query into the curved search bar. In flash-paced impulse, you type out: "권은비 워터밤."
Then there it is: several fan-recorded videos of your girlfriend, your ever-so-precious and playful Eunbi, dressed in nothing but a flimsy bikini top and a see-through cardigan. Her hair is soaked from the sprays and shots of water coming at her, but she's smiling—she looks like she's having the time of her life.
The played previews of the videos are endless loops of her chest rippling and bouncing with her wide movements, even cutting to a clip where she's running her hands up her exposed body, grinding her hips down as if you were there on the stage with her, invisible yet still present. 
No wonder she didn't want you to attend. You insisted, but she asked that you did what you had to do. 
You're a good man. At least, you try to be. Eunbi's her own person and you're completely fine with whatever she does, even suggesting the kinds of tattoos she could pick out when she went to get some. They're what gave you the inked places to kiss her.
But she knows what she was doing with this. It's impossible not to discern that.
Look around before closing the tab with shivering breaths, then pick up your phone.
You: ????? 
You told me it was a festival
Not the WATERBOMB festival
Tokki 🐰: oh come on whats the difference 
and you don't own me >:(
i can do whatever i want
:PPPPP
She's got a point, but her intent with this is so obvious, with the lewd expressions she fires the audience and all, that—
You: Oh
So that's how it's going to be, huh.
It's maddening how your picture of her jumping around giggling as she types another message to you is probably accurate. 
Tokki 🐰: yes :3
can you come pick me up?? 
The audacity of this girl sometimes.
But forget it; as any good boyfriend would, you're picking her up. You'll do more than pick her up. 
-
Getting there in the guise of her manager isn't easy. You've had to negotiate with him, explaining that you'll pick her up on your own and save him the trouble. I'm a friend of hers, you said. I just want to congratulate her performance, you added. He gave you suspicious looks, but once he saw her name in your contacts, he ultimately agreed.
Driving through the crowd isn't easy either, but you manage to do it. You have your emotions to thank for that. Lust and jealousy, as you've learned, are like demons—they possess you, control you to the point that they invade other aspects of your life. Asmodeus sure likes tinkering with you, and you're just sitting there in the driver's seat letting him? If that's the case, you'd have to attend the Waterbomb Festival itself to wash yourself of hell's flame.
Heat begins to fill the room when you see her though. You'd adlib a pun into the script here, say a joke about how it's only hot because Eunbi is. But you're too turned on by the sight of her tits on display, poorly contained by the thin bikini and held together by one single button of the transparent cardigan.
Her smile pushes you on. She knows what you're here for, but she loves playing dumb as much as she loves provoking you. It's all going according to her plan.
Every bit of her insane curves sway in an aesthetic, almost rehearsed way at you as she approaches. Her hair is still wet, and maybe there's another thing wet, too; her thighs squirm together too much to be merely out of the soaked sprays aimed at her at the festival.
Eunbi's eyes sparkle. Makeup can't fabricate that glimmer.
"Daddy," she says, with conviction. With meaning. 
The hair on the back of your nape rises.
Eunbi's pushing you to the empty seat in the room, soon filling your lap with her soft presence. "You really came? I thought you were mad at Eunbi."
There she is again with the third-person thing. The daddy thing, too. She knows it's your weakness, hearing a pretty girl like her who pretends not to know of her effect on people get on her knees and call you what she shouldn't. You won't lie; it's insanely hot, but when she's grinding her round ass down on your growing bulge with that tiny bite of her lower lip, you, as usual, aren't passive. You aren't moved by her coaxing. You refuse to be. 
"Watch it," you warn anyway, a hand on one of her womanly hips. You massage it, a cautionary message written in your movements. Now you brush a thumb over her midriff and draw small gasps out of her.
"I'm n-not doing anything." 
Innocent as her voice is, her outfit isn't—the patterned bikini top barely holds on to her plentiful breasts, and the cardigan is useless anyway with how clear its seams are. 
"Daddy," Eunbi says again, the pout on her lipsticked mouth growing, "don't tease."
"I'm not doing anything," you say, happy to use her line against her. 
You love and live to see the weak expressions on her face when you trail your hands gently to the scope of her tits. If they barely fit the bikini, what more in your hands? They're too soft in your fingers as you gingerly toy with them. Her nipples poke the fabric of the top and brush your palms.
Eunbi's gasps frequent. "Please."
"What is this, baby?" you ask. "You go to a festival made for perverts and you make a scene anyway. And now you want me to take this off—"
Unbutton the single thing holding the cardigan together, slipping it off her shoulders. The bare, revealed body in front of you is something the Waterbomb Festival goers were able to see first—just under the gauze of the poor outerwear. It triggers an unhinged emotion in you, something that goes like: mine mine mine.
"—call you a good girl—"
Eunbi's lips are pursed as you touch her everywhere. She's completely soaked after her viral feat at the festival, but there's another thing down below that's wetter. Showing herself off to everybody, men and women alike, has her wet to the core. 
Your touch teases yet lingers, stays yet strays. She grinds down on your lap needily. 
"—and expect me to fuck you? Really?"
Eunbi's truly all bark but no bite. Her feistiness through texts doesn't translate in real life, wherein she completely melts when you just let your fingertips glide along her waiting skin. Just look at her heaving bosom, her large eyes—she's passiveness itself.
"But you, you liked seeing me up there, daddy," she stammers. Eunbi swallows the moment your hand rests on her cheek. "H-hah, you liked watching me."
She cries out too loud for subtleness at the sudden spank thrown at her tits. 
"Is this what you wanted those men at the festival to do to you?" Slap her bouncing tits again, squeezing before throwing another blow. "Slap your big fucking tits, dick you down right there on the stage for everyone to see?"
"Mmm, ah, you ask too many questions, daddy. Oh– oh my god—"
"If you want to be such a bad girl," you say, a harsh squeeze from your right hand on her boob, "you'll get fucked like one."
Pull down the narrow cup of the bikini to suck on her nipples. Replace the redness on the flesh from your slaps to redness from your mouth. You've placed your hand on skirted ass to keep her on your lap, because she's not going anywhere—she'll stay here, here where you can teach her a lesson. 
You dare to bite just a little. Beneath your palm, Eunbi's form curves and she screams.
"D-daddy!" 
"Sensitive, aren't we?" you ask with a smirk. Your tongue flattens as it licks greedily at her nipples, then retreating to her collarbone and neck. Still, her bountiful breasts are your main focus. 
"Please fuck me. I need it, I can't—"
"Take the skirt off. Bend over." 
Eunbi whines, but you fire her with a look of warning. Hence, she slips out of the white jean skirt. She doesn't even wear safety shorts underneath. Instead, it's a single thong that matches the plaid pattern of the top. She might as well be at a beach with how little clothing there is on her curvaceous body.
Your blood boils, but it settles when she does bend over obediently on your lap, and you enjoy the sight of her breasts dangling before settling on the soft plush sofa. 
"Someone might see, daddy," she protests, though she's already folded in half on the furniture. "The others, they're gonna look."
"You had no problem with that earlier," you say. Circle your palm over the exposed fat cheeks and clench your hand around one, just like you did with her tits. "I should fuck you at the door, make everyone see the sexy little thing they saw at the festival is mine."
"Noooo, please, daddy! The company'll be mad and my fans…oh, my fans—"
"Quiet, baby girl. Let me use you."
Eunbi nods, albeit her shadowed eyes are closed. She whimpers through pursed lips as the first spank capsizes. Her ass moves beautifully, as if it were a dancer just like her. It's hypnotizing, and for that you hit her more. 
"Oh, oh yes, daddy, oh my god," she cries out, her voice thin. "I love it when you spank me. M-makes me want to cum all over you."
"Not a chance after the shit you pulled out there."
Her thong is sticky with her juices. Feel it with your middle finger briefly. Dare to slip through the side to touch her waiting pussy. Eunbi sobs a little, reversing her ass into you, but is met with a spank instead. She winces.
Eunbi's ass is, to be brief, amazing. But even with that you'll go on to say how much you love the supple flesh bouncing in front of you, becoming red from the assault of your hand, clenching to bear the teasing. It's already a surprise that you haven't fucked her senseless already when she's lying stomach first on your lap in a tiny two-piece set, but you love to keep her on edge hankering for you to use her. 
"So you won't let me cum?" asks Eunbi, as if she were really disappointed that she'd be denied something she doesn't deserve. "That's not fair."
"Do you think it's fair to me?" 
"Oh, oh, daddy—" Her legs quake once your fingers nevertheless stuff her hole, and start moving at a pace too early to be set and too much to handle.
Your digits push past her slick walls and fill her over and over. "Presenting what's mine for everyone to see, Kwon Eunbi. And I thought you were a good girl."
"Ohhh, but I am!" Eunbi protests, on the verge of pleasure-induced tears. 
You just know where to touch her, where to fuck her pretty cunt at to reduce her to cum and tears. Nothing's a better combination. Stuff a third finger, and Eunbi gets too tight that you can barely fit. You have to spread your fingers a little to make space, yet she still squeezes down.
Through her struggles and cries she doesn't fail to move her crotch into your fingers. It's like she's in a battle of choices: to have you stop or have you go on forever. 
"I just wanted to have fun, daddy! I wanted you to punish me, to fuck me—"
"Well, you got what you wanted then, little brat. Cum for me. Cum for daddy."
Her screams fire off into the atmosphere like warnings. They have every right to send cautionary messages; Eunbi's a force to be reckoned with when she cums. At times, she'd yell and sob without shame as she came around your cock, tear the sheets with how hard she grasps at their fabric. But now, at a public waiting room backstage at the festival, she's got nowhere and no one to help her bear her orgasm.
So, while you violently fuck her hole with Eunbi-stained digits, her moans start off as what they were, evolving into louder and louder forms, until she's cumming, cumming all over your fingers as if her pussy were one of the water guns itself. Her squirt doesn't miss her thong, but it also doesn't leave your lap empty in its wake.
Oh, and she's screaming. She's crying out your name in pitched tones, carving your thrusts into stronger forces. "Shit, daddy, please!" Eunbi cries, struggling in your lap and squeezing down hard. "Please, daddy, I don't want to ruin your clothes!"
That's sweet of her, but frankly: "I don't care. Cum all over them. Just keep on squirting for me, baby. That's it."
Pull out to rub at her core, forcing more of her girl cum to eject into the air. Eunbi's legs flail and weaken. Her hips gyrate into your finger and flinch after you start spanking her impossibly wet cunt.
"Thank you, daddy," she says between gaspy gibberish and whimpers. She can barely see anything but stars. "My daddy, thank you, daddy, keep spanking my little pussy like that, mmm, I love you, daddy."
Alternate between spanking and rubbing so that the sofa is absolutely stained with her, so that anyone who comes in the room after the session will know that the Kwon Eunbi was railed here. So they know that they can gawk at her amazing body all they want, but she's yours. Yours, and no one else's. 
Eunbi bears it for a few seconds, hips lifting and descending. But it soon becomes too much to bear, for she implores, in a tired voice, "Daddy… stop. Too much."
No problem at all. Stop, like she asked. You never take things too far unless she wants you to, even when she's been bad, which reminds you: "But you're still a bad girl. You need to make it up to daddy."
"I know what to do!" she says, in a sudden cheerful voice she uses when she does her radio gigs. "I can make daddy feel better with this!"
Her legs are still weak, but she gets off your lap with the help of her own eagerness. Eunbi's always so ready to make you feel good.
She kneels, tugging your belt and pants off. Her animated expression at the sight of your cock is adorable, and as you ruffle her hair, you realize you just have to tell her:
"You're so fucking pretty, Eunbi."
Eunbi beams. Her cheeks flush. "Thank you, daddy."
"I bet you'll look even prettier fucking your huge tits on my cock."
"You don't have to tell me what to do," giggles Eunbi. "I'm a big girl."
She completely tears off the bikini top. Her wondrous boobs free themselves from the fabric, baring their flesh to you. It's an attempt to make you drool at the mouth and go bogey-eyed, and you can't say that it isn't successful. 
She squeezes her assets and plays with her nipples. Her fingertips brush and circle over the pink patch of skin as she moans seductively. The knot in your stomach tightens.
"Eunbi," you reprimand her. 
"What?" she says, eyes full of faux innocence. "I was so horny after you fingered me, daddy. You're just so hot when you're mad."
"I'll be madder if you don't let me fuck you."
She laughs. "Don't worry, daddy. Just sit there and relax for me, okay?" Eunbi raises a thumb questioningly.
Lower lip pinned under her teeth, she guides her large breasts to your cock. It takes no effort at all for her to slip your cock between. It's not unexpected either that the big soft skin imprisoning you feels amazing. With their size and impossibly smooth texture, you've no other choice but to moan loudly.
The backside of your length enjoys the space between her tits, while the rounded sides revel in their booby trap. Not a pun, you swear, especially not when your girlfriend's titfucking you, but there's no coherent thought when she's doing it. When she's smiling naughtily. When she's compressing her tits around your length like it's determined to keep you there forever. When—
"You're doing so fucking good, baby."
"Of course," she says happily. "Daddy made me cum even though I was a bad girl, so I'll always be good for him."
"Consider this your punishment, then."
"How is it a punishment if I love it?" 
"Don't start."
Another warning she doesn't heed. "I already have."
Her chest heaves and rests while being instructed by her hands. Eunbi lets a run of spit stream down her cleavage and on your cock as lubricant. Wipe the drool from her chin and offer it to her mouth. Her eyes sparkle with delicateness as she sucks on your thumb. The soft lips wrapping around your finger causes you to wonder what they'd feel like around your girth.
(Next time.)
"Gently," you have to remind her. The constriction of her bust around your cock is a little too much. So is her eager looks. "There's no rush here."
"But I want you to cum," Eunbi says. "I want you to cum all over my big tits you love so much. You love me, don't you? Then cum for me, daddy, show me you love your little baby girl, please?"
Fuck, it's tempting. You'd love to pepper her beautiful face and bust with your cum. She'd look so pretty in it while still keeping the look of pureness in her irises. But you have to hold out. 
She toys with your cock, slapping it against her boob then running its tip on her nipple. Your heart skips a beat, and she smirks. Seems like you're not doing a good job of keeping your daddy persona, but she's good enough to continue rubbing your firm veins on her skin. 
Eunbi's chest is a real-life fleshlight. Soon, your hips start to move of their own accord, and you're meeting her thrusts now, only with a little more force. There's the friction to chase after, too, and you're right at its heel. You're winning the race, already; you can almost taste it—
"Ohhh, daddy!" she says delightfully. Your cum rains on her chest and neck like a storm. The thunder can be your groans that instead of fearing, she relishes. 
"F-fuck," you say. "Fucking brat, take it all—"
Eunbi listens this time. She removes her bosom from enveloping your cock and attaches her mouth to it instead. You've trained her well; she shoves her face all the way down your length, effectively taking it all in her tight throat. Her neck flexes and relaxes. It stimulates you and has your legs bouncing.
Her eyes remain sealed onto you. The brightness in them that they hold so often tells you more than words could: she loves being your good girl as much as she loves being a brat. She loves riling you up but also loves being good and letting you have your way with her. It's what Eunbi keeps living for, and some may say it's an addiction, but if it is, she'd never want to recover. Not if it means having your warm cum down her throat and your hand tangled in her hair.
You call her a good girl more times than you can count. Ruffle her hair all the while and wipe the tears forming in her eyes when she whimpers. It takes a while getting her to get all of your cum—her throat extracts more from you, and it ends up with her gagging just a little. Finally, she makes the move to breathe.
Pants ride her shoulders, but Eunbi smiles. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" she says. "Let's go home now—"
"Oh, no, Eunbi, we're not done."
"H-huh?"
You pull her up and into your lap, her butt parked only a little away from your cock. Eunbi wears a shocked look on her face, and it only adds up to the hotness of her wearing nothing but a Burberry thong while on your thighs.
"I still have to teach you a lesson," you tell her between firm squeezes on her butt. "You think I forgot?"
"Why?" she whines. Her hands fidget with your shirt. "I've been a good girl, haven't I? You got to cum!"
"And I'm not stopping." Guide her hips to dance along the head of your length. Brush against her engorged clit. Tease her slit. "Fucking ride my dick."
You push her down. Eunbi cries out, her nerves still on a high after her previous orgasm. To be fair, you're a little sensitive, too, but you look forward anyway to cumming in her tight little pussy. It could happen any time when she's just so fuckable, her busty self bouncing and squirming on your girth, and her face never failing to not hide the pleasure she's going through. You can feel her twitch and spasm, but of course, you keep slamming her down on your lap like she's a little rag doll.
"Daddy!" she screams. "Please, oh fuck, you're so big!"
She's a little greedy herself. If you wanted to fuck her till she came and begged you to stop, she wanted it more. She's wild and unhinged as she rides you, impaling herself with your rod though you cumming in her would do more bad than good, but when it pokes every good spot and stretches her tiny cunt better than any toy or a couple of fingers, she might as well do it with no regrets.
Kiss her collarbone and keep a hand on her ass to guide her. Squeeze; her moans break. Then Eunbi's looking at you with crazed eyes, deluded and dizzy with pleasure, as you slap her fat ass and let her wet core press its walls around your penis like a trap. This whole thing's a trap if you really looked at it, from the appearance at the Waterbomb Festival to the outfit she's wearing, but if that were so, you'd want no parole. If being jailed in her hole means getting this delicious tightness and hearing her whiny loud moans every second, you'd appeal for a life sentence.
She might as well be liquid—the roll of her hips is too fluid to be that of a human. But you've seen her fancams from the festival and guess that it was a manifestation, a prophecy for this to happen. Your cock can't be anything other than solid, however. Eunbi's too sexy a girl for your erection to be nonexistent.
"That's it, Eunbi." Lean back a little into the wet sofa to let her do her thing. "Ride that fucking cock. Fill that tight pussy."
"I will, daddy," she responds, nodding as if in a spell-cast trance. Maybe it's true; the heat brewing in the small of her stomach is too good to be true. "Yes, please, I love your big cock, it feels so good inside me."
You don't even have to guide her anymore. She's fully fucking herself on you, her stamina never failing her. Her full thighs strain and her pussy clenches down with a slippery yet firm grip. Groan, then slap her ass. She hums happily. Your relentless upward thrusts and slaps just burn her lust into a complete fire. 
It's a surprise your legs don't collapse on the way to carrying her and fucking her against the wall. It gives you more opportunity to stuff her with you harder. Eunbi's legs spread more, her breathing ragged, and you're kissing her again. You press your lips on hers, then on her neck for which she closes her eyes appreciatively, then her collarbone. There isn't one part of her you don't love. You'd paint her with your cum three times a day like a daily meal if you could.
For now, you binge on lust with her. You eat more of her than you should. But who's making the rules? Whoever they are, let it be known you're breaking them—skin slapping against skin grows louder, almost syncing with Eunbi's repeated moans and your pumps. Her hips and yours create a rhythm together to make it work, to make your cock fit inside her, but she ends up weak and tired anyway.
"Please, daddy. S-suck my tits. I need your mouth on me so bad. Can you give your baby girl what she wants, daddy?" Her pout prods you on. "You can, right?"
"Of course." 
Latch your mouth on one of the bouncing circles of flesh. Nibble, suck, spit, suckle—that's your beginning loop of actions for her. But it becomes frenzied after a while because of how good her folds swallow you, how soft her breasts are. Even as your actions become less and less sequenced, she moans. You never want to hear anything else.
"Yes, yes, yes. Thank you. I, I'm gonna cum soon. Keep fucking me like that and I promise, I promise I'll squirt around your s-stupidly big cock. I will, I will, just fuck me, oh my god. Oh, daddy!"
Eunbi stays true to her word, especially with your thumb toying her clit. She lets out another rush of cum on your crotch. It's wet, it's plenty, it's oh-so-hot when she's screaming helplessly like that, struggling to keep up with your speed. 
Pull out so more of her can spray all over you. If people don't hear your little session in this waiting room, they'll see evidence of it—it ends up on the floor, the sofa, the wall, and your soaked clothes on the ground. Maybe Eunbi's back could have imprinted a mark on the wall too after how hard you fucked her. It's too easy for adoring fans and nonchalant staff alike to find out what happened to their beloved Kwon Eunbi after the festival, and you have a feeling that it's part of what makes Eunbi squirt so much now.
Go south. Keep your fingers on her hips to help her stand. Then, flick your tongue on her clit to help her go through the long stretch of her orgasm.
"Ahh, fuck!" 
Her core tightens again. Her hips flinch and recoil, but you keep firing your sharp little licks long after her climax subsides. 
"Oh, daddy," Eunbi sighs, dizzy, "that felt so good."
"Can you go for more?" 
You're met with a curious look. It's as if she's wondering herself: could she?
"I want to fuck your ass, too, Eunbi." Squeeze her cheek, and her other cheek turns red. "Won't you let daddy fuck this perfect little thing?"
Eunbi shivers. She walks over to the windowsill, steps shaky, and places her hands on it. Then, she looks back at you, coaxing you on. And you have to admit that it's quite the sight, because there she is, in only skimpy underwear and her breasts bare of any covering. 
It's the fact that she's so willing to go and expose herself through the uncurtained window and show everyone who gets to fuck her that makes you approach her. 
"Naughty girl."
Eunbi nods. What's there to deny? Her eyes shut after you spank her.
"If I get to fuck your ass every time you go to Waterbomb," you say, trailing her wetness to her asshole as lubricant and lathering it with her arousal, "I'd let you go here daily."
Eunbi giggles. "So you're not mad anymore, daddy?" she asks hopefully.
Your cock rubs her hole. It teases her, keeps her on the tips of her toes. "Maybe."
Push, just a little. Already she's clenching down unintentionally. Eunbi hisses and shuts her eyes.
"Ffffuck, hnn." Her hands drum a tortured song on the windowsill while her voice strains a melody of darling cries and whines. "Haaah, daddy, you're so big. I don't think I can take it."
"Of course you can," you say, choosing to be gentle this time, "'cause you're my good girl, right?"
"Y-yes. I'll take it for you, daddy—I can do it."
"That's my Eunbi."
Kiss her neck and slowly plunge more inches in her. She keeps letting out soft cries. Her face, showcasing her eyes shut tightly and mouth slightly hung open, reflects into the window. You wonder which group's performing now, and if the audience is too enamored by their song to see the previous sex doll that is Eunbi being fucked at the window. That somehow encourages you alongside her soft moans of pleasure. 
It's Eunbi's first time with anal, and she never imagined she'd experience it here, at a place where anybody can see her pleasure and struggle. She clamps a palm on her mouth.
"Daddy… ahhh, it's so big, daddy!" she cries softly.
"I know. Just spread that tight ass for me, will you? So you can take daddy better?" Smile when she follows your orders. "Thank you, baby. You ready?"
"Mmm." Eunbi hums hesitantly. "Yes."
She said she was, so there's no hesitance on your end in relentlessly fucking her asshole. It gapes a little with the help of her fingers, but Eunbi still wails. Stroke after stroke of your length fills her up and she isn't sure how to deal with the pleasure and pain it brings about. 
Her textured, pink walls might be a close competitor in terms of tightness with her pussy. With how closed its walls are, it nearly refuses to take you in. Try rubbing at her clit. As a result, it clenches around you tighter. Eunbi sobs and huffs as she tries with every inch of her spent body to take you in. 
"Nnnn, daddy! S-so big, so good, it's so good!"
Open her up. Spread the tight cheeks by spanking them. The backside before you grinds and gyrates in response. There's more wetness now on Eunbi's legs, trickling down her skin. Maybe it's sweat? Squirt? Cum? No time to think about it when you're focused on how damn tight she is.
Somehow, your pats and rubs on her core make her tighter. She's restricting you fully, forcing you to draw your hips all the way back to slam inside her. With each, she gasps, as if surprised, and begs again. Begs for more, although her ass is too tight to take more than a few pleasured inches in. Begs you to use her, spank her, which you do although you don't really understand the rest of her sentences. It's all garbled and messy, just like your swift thrusts.
"Pound me, fuck me! Fuck me for everyone to see, daddy, make me cum!"
Now that part's clear as day. You love Eunbi too much to not do what she says.
A few seconds in she relaxes a little. Hence, the rest of your dick goes inside her. You let out a soft groan at how good it feels: finally filling her to the hilt. You kiss her sweaty back, rub her clit, tell her how much of a good girl she is. It takes effect; she grows tighter and more relaxed at the same time. How it's possible, you've no idea, for you live in the present wherein you're fucking Kwon Eunbi's tight ass to no end.
Rub her little midriff. "You want me to fill this pretty stomach with my load, baby? You want me to cream your ass?" 
"Yes, daddy!" 
Now, trail your finger down to her clit where you rub furiously. "Want me to make you squirt again?" 
"Fuck! Daddy!" Eunbi's legs twitch and she throws her head back. "Yes, yes, make me cum, make me cum!"
That you do. Keep the tempo of your thrusts and rubs unsynced so as to let her experience the pleasure from both ends. Let your other hand squeeze and pinch her nipples, and let the fact that only you get to toy with them, not the audience. Not one single man out there gets to fuck her like this, even in his dreams. 
You smile for a bit until you blow your load inside her tight hole. Eunbi's feet finally lose balance and she falls back into you. Continue to thrust in her to ease your climax while she rains her squirt all over the pane and wall. Let a few fingers inside her pussy, too, and the silver rain grows stronger. Plentier. Better.
"So fffucking big, thank you, daddy," she mumbles coherently enough. She kisses your jaw tiredly. "Feels so good in my ass, thank you, I love you, thank you… the best…"
Her repeated whispers are adorable. You wince as you pull out. You're fully and completely drained, and you don't have to guess to know that she is, too.
"Calm down now."
"Okay, I will…" 
"I love you, too, by the way." Your lips meet hers. She kisses back happily.  "Don't forget that."
"Won't… forget…" Eunbi nods. Her heart pounds as fast as yours. "We'll go home now? For real this time?"
"For real this time," you chuckle. Stroke her hair. 
You let her robe fall around her spent body and drive her home. The janitors have a tough time cleaning up the room, luckily only assuming someone spilled water. The scent of sex still hangs around, though.
She's your passenger princess on the way home, but the next three times she'll attend the Waterbomb Festival, she's your toy. You're flying with her to Japan to fuck her anytime, just as a firm reminder that as much as she's loved to show off in the events, you love fucking her more.
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months
Text
My Job
Dean Winchester x little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: You storm out after an argument with Dean, but then you get into trouble. Will he get there in time to help?
Trigger Warning: attempted sexual assault (not graphic), drugging
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“It’s not rocket science, kid, we’ve had these rules since you were born.”
“Yeah, but I thought-“
“What, because dad isn’t here right now, I’m just gonna let you do whatever you want?”
You huffed, “Would you let me speak?”
“No, you’ve said what you wanted, and the answer is still no.”
“It’s just a few hours!”
“And you know the rules. When we’re on a hunt, you don’t go out. At all. For any reason other than the motel is on fire.”
“It’s a stupid rule!”
“It’s a rule that means that you’re safe. While monsters are out there, you’re not, it’s not exactly unreasonable.”
“It’s just one time!” Dean’s efforts to bring the volume of the conversation down just made you want to yell louder. “It wouldn’t kill you to loosen up!”
“It might kill you!” Dean matched your volume. “Im just trying to protect you, and dad would say the same thing if he-“
“You’re not dad!” You couldn’t take it anymore. You brushed past Dean, shaking his hand off when he tried to grab your arm, and stormed out the motel door, slamming it behind you.
Who was he to say you couldn’t go out? Dean, who had to be the most reckless person you knew.
Well, maybe you’d have to show him that he should practice what he preached. You were going to do as he did, not as he said.
You buried your hand into your pocket, pulling out one of your fake IDs.
You were going to show him.
Not fifteen minutes later you’d slipped into a bar and used your fake ID to order a beer. The bartender gave you a strange look, unsure about the “22” printed on your ID, but he’d served you nonetheless.
You sat at the bar for several minutes, wanting to spite Dean but not really wanting to drink. He’d gotten you the fake ID “in case anything happened”, and you needed to pretend to be an adult. He certainly didn’t get it so you could drink underage, and you honestly had never wanted to. You’d seen what it did to John, and how it was starting to affect Dean. You didn’t want it to somehow turn into your coping mechanism like it had with them.
Suddenly your fight with Dean felt really stupid. Was the rule really so unfair? It was his job to keep you safe, after all, and it made you feel horrible knowing that he’d never asked for that job. You weren’t his kid, you were John’s, but Dean saddled the responsibility anyway. And how did you repay him? Screaming at him and running off without telling him.
Oh gosh. He must be freaking out! He didn’t know where you were, and you’d already been gone for a bit. You’d seriously screwed up.
“Hey, princess.”
Just the sound of the grating voice made your blood run cold, and when it was followed by a hand on your arm, you visibly flinched.
“Do I know you?” You asked the stranger nervously.
“Not yet,” the man licked his lips, and your skin crawled. “Are you even old enough to drink that?” He gestured at the drink in front of you.
“Yes,” you hated how your voice quavered.
“Right,” the man grinned, clearly not believing you. “Don’t worry baby, I won’t tell on you.”
Whenever Dean called you baby, it always made you feel safe, like a baby sister Dean would always protect. When this man called you baby, it made you want to crawl out of your own skin and hide somewhere.
“You here with anyone?”
“No—I mean, I mean yes,” why, oh why had the truth slipped out?
“That’s ok, I can keep you company,” you curled in on yourself when the man leaned his body closer to yours, hating how small and pathetic you must look compared to him.
“No thanks,” your voice came out barely above a whisper.
“What was that, baby?” The man’s hand came around your waist, and he didn’t wait for an answer. “Why don’t you have a drink, you’re so tense.” He pulled your drink closer to you, and suddenly you wanted nothing to do with it.
You shook your head, finding that your voice didn’t want to work.
“Aw c’mon, just a little sip,” the man suddenly had one hand on the back of your neck, the other lifting your drink. You tried to squirm away but his grip was too strong, and a whimper escaped your lips when the cool feeling of the glass pushed against them, demanding entrance.
“Open up, pretty little thing,” he twisted so that his arm was holding your neck in place, moving his hand over to your jaw to pry it open. You felt the bitter liquid enter your mouth, and suddenly the man put the cup down, using one hand to cover your mouth while the other pinched your nose.
You couldn’t think, couldn’t even breathe. Eventually it got to the point where you had no choice but to swallow, and once you did, the man released you.
“There we go, now that wasn’t so bad, was it baby?” He leaned close, and his alcohol stained breath invaded your senses. “The next part will be even better.”
Suddenly your head felt fuzzy, your body swaying in your chair. Surely this couldn’t happen because of one sip of beer, right? The scene played back in your head, and suddenly you saw it. The man’s hand hovering over your drink when he went to lean close to you. He must’ve slipped something in it, that’s why he was so desperate to get you to drink.
“S’cuse me,” your voice came out slightly slurred as you slid out of your chair, heading for the restroom. You sensed the man following right behind you, and you broke into a run.
It was a single bathroom, so you were able to lock the door a split second after you entered. You fumbled for your phone, not even hesitating as you clicked Dean’s number.
“Y/N where are you?” Dean didn’t wait for you to speak, his voice demanding and angry. You felt tears begin to stream down your cheeks as a pounding came from the bathroom door.
“I’m so sorry, Dean I’m sorry, I need help please.”
The anger dissipated, and was replaced with worry as Dean repeated his question.
“Where are you?”
“It’s-um…” why couldn’t you remember the name? Your brain felt so fuzzy, and you were so tired.
“It’s that bar we passed, um…”
“You’re at a bar?” You heard the Impala engine start, and your heart rate picked up when the door shook with the man’s pounding.
“Dean I’m sorry,” you sobbed. “Please hurry, there’s-there’s a man and he-he’s trying to…”
“I’m coming, it’s ok just hold on baby.”
Boom!
The door hinges shook.
“Dean…” you whimpered.
Boom! Boom!
The plaster around the door cracked.
“Baby? What’s happening?”
Boom!
You let out a panicked cry when the door flung open.
“Honey, talk to me, what’s-“ Dean’s voice was cut off when the man smacked the phone out of your hand.
“You didn’t have to do that,” your stomach knotted at the sickeningly sweet tone. “It’s not gonna hurt that bad, I promise. It’ll be quick.”
“Please…” you felt your knees give out, and you curled against the wall as your whole body shuddered.
“I’m gonna take real good care of you,” the man was reaching forward to grab you when he was suddenly flung backwards, and Dean took his place in front of you. He remained for a few seconds, looking you over for signs of injuries, before he turned his attention to the man, his whole body tensing with rage.
You slowly got to shaky feet as Dean began to pound his fists, his palms, his feet, everything, into the man, and before long the creep couldn’t hold himself upright, his face bloody and his body bruised.
“Dean.”
The beating stopped immediately at the sound of your terrified whimper. Dean dropped the man and turned to face you, and you ignored his bloody knuckles and bruised hands as you collapsed into his arms.
“I got you, you’re ok,” Dean’s strong arms held you tightly against him, and you relaxed completely as he picked you up, your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his torso as he carried you outside.
He set you down gently in the passengers seat of the Impala, and he moved to close the door but you grabbed onto his hand.
“Not yet,” your voice came out in a hoarse whisper, and Dean knelt down to look you in the eyes.
“You’re not hurt are you? He didn’t…” Dean trailed off as you shook your head, and relief settled onto his features. “Honey what happened?”
You recounted the story, and as you did you began to cry again. It felt like living it all over again, and soon you were sobbing in Dean’s arms as he held you close, rubbing your back and cradling your head.
“It’s over now,” he promised. “I’m gonna take you home.”
You finally let him pull away, and he shut your door before climbing into the drivers seat. You drove in silence for a few minutes, but you couldn’t hold back what you needed to say any longer.
“Dean, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of what I said, I know why we have rules and I know you’re doing your best. I-I know-“ you broke off, pulling your knees to your chest before continuing. “I know you don’t deserve to be stuck in charge of me, and I’m-I’m sorry for being so difficult.”
Dean had been silent up to this point, but now he broke him, alarm on his features.
“What? Baby I’m not stuck with you, you’re my baby sister and it’s my job to-“
“But it’s a job you didn’t ask for!” You broke in, trying to keep back your tears for the third time this night. “Dad just left you here with me, and-and I know I’m not easy-“
“Stop right there,” Dean interrupted. “Sweetheart, this is the easiest job in the world for me, ok? I mean sure, sometimes you run off and give me a heart attack,” he gave you a pointed look. “But sometimes you also help with research, or bring me food, or talk Sammy through his nightmares. Honey we need you around here, just as much as you need us. We’re family, understand? It’s all of our jobs to look out for each other, so don’t think you’re just some burden on me. Don’t ever think that.”
You felt your face light up with a smile, and you finally looked up at Dean.
“Ok.”
“Ok,” Dean nodded firmly as he pulled into the motel. “Now c’mon, you should get some food and sleep.”
“Dean?”
Dean hummed as he opened your car door and led you inside.
“Can…can I sleep in your bed tonight? It’s just…I’m still kinda freaked and I thought-“
“Of course you can baby,” Dean leaned down and kissed your head. “That’s what I’m here for. It’s my job.”
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hollyhomburg · 6 months
Text
Before I Leave You (Pt.62)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: love becomes guilt, predator becomes prey, and Jin becomes...
Tags: Hospitals, medical talk, sicfic, seizures, angst, hurt/comfort, assassin! Jimin, implied autistic! jimin, meltdowns, settling, non-sexual biting, Mafia shit, murder, Dead bodies, Guns, violence, blood. everyone lives nobody dies, morality conversations, revenge, secrets
W/c: 10.9k
A/n: thank you to everyone who helped me make my birthday this year super special <3 im sorry if i was bad at thanking people publicly for their specific gifts <3 i figured that the next best way i could say thank you was to give you another chapter...be warned, this one ends on QUITE the cliffhanger....be warned
Previous part ~ Masterlist
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The hospital is cold, maybe that’s just because of the first snow.
It gathers on the trees outside like a faint white outline where someone forgot to fill the image in. Cresting the shoulders of everyone who walks into the hospital and turning the streetlight into halos and the sky into one big white blanket. The whole world is a nest when the weather is like this. Maybe if the whole world was a nest, it would be enough to keep you all safe.
It’s useless to hope, as you wait with Jimin outside of Jungkook’s hospital room.
The hospital is a mess of glowing exit signs and endless beeping. A dull roar in your ears from coming down adrenaline and a telephone nearby blares. The scratchy intercom system overhead pages a doctor for a code red. Whatever that is. You sit and wait, worrying and picking at your nails, full of useless energy. There is nothing to do but wait until someone tells you if Jungkook’s alright.
You're not sure if he will be, this seizure was a bad one.
You and Jimin sit side by side, and you don’t talk. You don’t even touch. You don’t know what you prefer, the instant terror of the car bomb, or this slow terror. Slow terror feels like nails dragging down the back of your skull, like clothes that are two sizes too tight. A bad taste in your mouth, not blood and not soot either.
The relief of finding out that Jungkook wasn’t calling you because Moonbyul had done something to him was only temporary. instead of your packmate there was a stranger on the other end of the line.
He’d still been seizing when you’d got back to the coffee shop. Foreghein scents on him and a crowd of patrons and paramedics surround him. His eyes rolled back into his skull, on his side, blue lips and froth on the edge of his mouth. Luckily, someone in that coffee shop was a doctor, was able to keep him semi-comfortable but-
This seizure had lasted a long time. Too long. Jungkook has been a patient at most of the local hospitals before on account of how unpredictable his seizures are. He has directives as per Namjoon's guidance, in place since before they were even packmates. Anything more than 6 minutes needs an overnight stay and copious testing. This seizure had lasted almost 10. The longest he's had in years.
You'd watched horrified and all too familiar with it as they’d loaded your still twitching packmate into the red box. Unsympathetic paramedics unwilling to hear your pleas to just let Jimin ride with them to the hospital (he'd tailgated them the whole way) but even at the hospital you and Jimin still couldn’t see him. They whisked him right up for an MRI.
Maybe you’d be less unnerved if Jungkook had woken up, but he hasn’t yet.
They’re still running tests and keeping him under just to be sure. Not a medical coma, but the step below that. Something about Jungkook’s malfunctioned ocular nerve and not wanting to trigger more seizures with more stimuli until the lorazepam and half a dozen other medications have time to take effect.
Jimin is the one who okayed those. He signed those papers for medications as easily as if he were swiping his card or maybe firing a gun. You feel out of your depth here, even if Jimin is very used to this. It’s been a while. It’s not your fault the luck ran out. Maybe that’s why he’s angry, maybe that’s why he’s not touching you. You are at once, somewhere between a four-leaf clover and a bad luck charm. Intangible and unsure of your odds.
Maybe Jimin's not touching you because he hates you, maybe he hates you because you forced him to let you come with him. you'd have been by Jungkook's side while this happened if you hadn't. But Jimin might have died from the explosion then-
Jungkook might still die, you realize with a lurch. Jungkook might die because of the seizures and could die at any time really. It's so easy to forget. Maybe that's why Jimin's not touching you. Your thoughts rush over you, wave after wave.
But Jimin thinks you don’t deserve to be touched when he’s this angry. You’ve had a lifetime’s worth of an angry alpha touching you and he won’t be one of them. Won’t make you worse when you’re sitting small and fragile. Barely there, barely alive. No, he'll keep his shaking hands tightened to fists on his knees and his angry tongue locked behind pursed lips. touching you would be more for him than it is for you he's convinced.
Too close, they were too close today. Jimin promised you that he wouldn’t let them hurt you. He promised and he'd failed. you still have the gash on your chin.
His worry for Jungkook is another monster entirely, one that can't be made better with actions, that can't be fixed with his own two hands.
Yoongi and Tae are the first to arrive. Your mate’s hair is wet and tousled, in a pair of pajama pants on like he’d just been showering for the evening before he’d come. Tae is close behind, a pair of pink sweatpants poking out from below her long thick coat and her long nightdress tucked into the waistband. The same dress you cuddled up beneath this morning. It feels like a lifetime ago.
Yoongi holds your cheeks, searching your face. The words tumble from your lips, the first you and Jimin have said in what feels like hours.
“He was just- we were just getting the car and we thought he’d be fine for a second but then-” you feel like you’re going to be sick all over his shoes. In his hurry, Yoongi put on a pair of Tae’s Uggs, the platform ones. You don't know why your brain fixates on that.
“It’s not your fault,” is the first thing he says, although even he sounds unsure. You shouldn’t have left him alone are the words that he must be thinking, the words that no one’s saying.
(This is a lie. This is your brain making up the worst-case scenario and clinging to it. There is nothing anyone can do, no precautions that they can take that they already haven’t when it comes to Jungkook’s seizures. Yoongi just gets small and quiet whenever Jungkook is sick. Jungkook will always be sick, and this quiet devastation will always find your mate because he loves Jungkook so).
There is nothing to do but wait, even though waiting with them is better than waiting alone.
The people at the coffee shop said they saw jungkook lie down before he started seizing. That's the only way they were able to call you, because he'd had your contact open on his phone. He'd known he was about to have one and he'd tried to call you. He'd been afraid and alone and then he'd been nothing.
The movements of the hospital slosh the four of you like an unmoored boat while you wait. Every doctor coming closer prompts a turn of your head and pleading eyes. Hoping that they’re the ones that will relieve you of your misery. Your leg jumps up and down, jittery. Jimin by comparison is deathly still.
Yoongi goes up to the desk and Tae sits between you and Jimin, one hand a piece on either of your thighs. You lean into her and Jimin rests his cheek on her shoulder slowly. She holds around your shoulders, looking back and forth between the two of you. She doesn’t any anything.
Her fingers rub up and down your shoulder, feeling the crumbliness there. She picks her hand up, and you watch as she takes in the darkness. It's soot.
“It’s from the ambulance,” Jimin says before you can force your words to cooperate and lie.
Jin comes through with a flurry of his long felted coat, snow gathering on his wide shoulder. Holding his keys in his hand and almost dropping them when you stand to collide with him. He has just a choked-out "pup" for you but then there's the nurse, the one you've been waiting for. Telling you that Jungkook's fine- he's not awake yet- but that you can wait in his room with him until he does.
Jungkook doesn't have too many wires connected to him, nothing more than an electrode at his temple, one at his heart, and an IV in his wrist. His hospital gown is pulled down to his collarbones so that the electrodes don't pull, but his skin is absent of his usual healthy flush.
You wait, watching until you notice the rise and fall of his chest. Even and beautiful breath. Jungkook is alive, Jungkook is breathing of his own accord. You let out a single broken sob, but you're not the only one.
You watch Yoongi brush his hair back from his face, eyes glassy. Seokjin sits by his right side and tae takes the other. Jimin and you stand at the foot of his bed, just watching him. No one says anything. Every beep of the heart monitor is anticipated, every second more precious.
"There's nothing on his MRI that indicates any lasting brain damage from the seizure," the nurse states, fussing with Jungkook's IV. "but it will be hard to know until he wakes up. You might notice him unable to recognize you or speak for a few minutes- the location of the seizure may have affected his language and motor capabilities so-"
She continues to list his prognosis, but it's nothing you didn't know before. Every seizure has a risk of taking out part of Jungkook's faculties, his fine motor skills, and his speech. But a seizure has never damaged him beyond repair before. Tae takes one of Jungkook's hands from the bed and brings it to her face, trying to hide her tears but it's no use.
It’s startling, how much your body relaxes upon Namjoon’s presence, you feel the shift in the air before he enters the room. Nauseous one moment and then fine the next. He enters the room, hand skimming the top of your head and Yoongi's side as he be-lines it to Jungkook's chart.
His scent is so thick- comforting coffee even if it is a a little stale. You sway, and when he looks up, his eyes flicker from you and then the nurse.
Today is not the end of the world, even though it feels like it. It feels like it's ending every time Jungkook finds his way into a hospital bed, a good 3 or 4 times in a year. Honestly, they’ve been so quiet recently, so unnoticeable that they should have known a bigger one was building.
“Dr. Kim,” Jungkook’s nurse says, this is not Namjoon’s hospital, but he is on Jungkook’s file. This nurse looks at him and waits for his call. Namjoon flicks past one page on his chart and then another, pursing his lips.
“Why didn't Avery order a Ct? it’s not here.”
“The ct has already been run Dr. Kim, He put the order in 4 minutes ago” Namjoon hums, and you watch the clench of his jaw, the extra tight way he bites his cheek. And it’s then you realize oh, Namjoon is about to cry.
Yoongi gets to him before you do, Jungkook’s fingers twitch of their own accord against Namjoon’s wrist and Yoongi grips his shoulder. Namjoon looks back at him and at the same time, Jungkook opens his eyes blinking against the dim lights.
His words are all garbled for the first few seconds after a seizure, the Jumbled groan startling enough that you flinch. Yoongi backs up so that Jin and Namjoon can hold him down as he reaches blindly, startled and moving before his brain has a second to catch up.
"It's okay Jungkook, you had a seizure. You were out for a few hours, You're okay,"
"Come up slowly, don't try to sit up there you go."
Jungkook tries to get up and out of the bed but has to be held down by namjoon until his brain comes back online, he continues to speak garbled nonsense for a moment. Too loud, voice loud after so much quiet. It startles you; you take a step back.
And almost step right on Hobi’s shoes.
Hoseok is there, hand on the small of your back. Snowflakes that still haven’t melted in his hair. He doesn’t say hi to you, but his hand stays there. Pressed flat. He only has eyes for Jungkook. Jungkook relaxes, falling back on the bed, and gets one coherent syllable out and then another. It's their names-.
"Alpha- Joon- hughr-"
Jungkook pants, breathing heavily, and then his hand reaches up steadily, to touch the electrode on his head. Yoongi's hand closes around his just in case, but he doesn't rip it off.
Everyone waits with bated breath.
“You alright kookie?” Hoseok asks careful, with that same level of humor in his voice that you’ve come to need. His smile is as genuine as ever as he looks down a Jungkook in the hospital bed. Jungkook’s hand is tight around Namjoon’s as he stretches, muscles aching. He’s always so sore after a seizure. It's always so disorienting coming out of them like this.
Jungkook waits, testing out his words. “I feel like Like it got hit by a trucking fuck.”
He blinks, and the lights are turned low, but a breath passes and Tae laughs and so does Yoongi, and then everyone's laughing and sort of crying. Your knees go a little weak and you turn into hobi's chest hiding your tears.
Jungkook just blinks at the ceiling. “That wasn’t right.” But then everyone's smiling. Happy because he's talking, happy because it looks like the seizure didn't do any lasting damage. Jin rests his head on the coverlet and sighs a happy sound. All too relieved to hear Jungkook act something like himself. Wordlessly Jin brings Jungkook's wrist to his face, pressing his nose to his scent gland.
The hospital room isn’t big enough for all of you let alone when more staff enter the room along with someone who Namjoon must know, because she instantly starts listing off different medical jargon. Asking Jungkook how many fingers she's holding up, Namjoon's name, then testing his reflexes on his hands and toes. Stress tests and memory tests.
One moment you’re standing in the doorway and then the next you’re pressed to the wall between Tae, Jimin, and Hobi.
The hospital room isn’t big enough for all of you let alone when more staff enters the room along with someone whom Namjoon must know, because she instantly starts listing off different medical jargon and refers to him by name.
One moment you’re standing in the doorway and then the next you’re pressed to the wall between Tae, Jimin, and Hobi. Tae opens the door and gestures. You step out because it’s surely more important that Namjoon Jin and Yoongi get at Jungkook right now even if your heart clenches painfully at leaving Jungkook.
Jimin is still vibrating out of his skin, has been since Jungkook opened his eyes. But Tae tugs him in for a hug in the hallway. You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until you watch him hug her back. But Jungkook was Tae and Jimin’s packmate first. It’s no wonder that this has shocked them both closer, their fight forgotten.
Or mostly forgotten, you watch as Jimin wraps his arms around her slowly, like he's not sure he's allowed.
Hobi jogs you out of your starting, turning your face towards his and, looking at you intently. Eyes flickering down to your chin and then to your eyes. You forget what he’s looking at until his fingers skim below your lips and you feel pain.
You drag your arm across it and it leaves a small rusty trail in its wake on the sleeve of Tae's jacket, just another stain on it. Oh, you fell during the blast and banged your face, you'd almost forgotten.
“Tripped, banged my face on the sidewalk.” it's close enough to the truth that the lie goes unnoticed. Hobi makes a sound, holding your elbow. Squeezing it reassuringly.
“I’m gonna get some snacks from the vending machine, can I get you something?”
“Didn’t eat dinner” you say, staring down at Hobi’s red Converse. There are scuffs on the linoleum and a drop of blood someone must have missed. You wonder who it’s from, another person from the emergency room probably. “You sure Jin and Joon won’t be angry if my dinner is just sweets?”
Tae is close enough to overhear, and she rubs her cheek across the top of Jimin’s head, scenting him sweet (or trying to.) “Yeah- junk food isn’t exactly the most nutritious.”
You stumble, stepping close, swaying suddenly on your feet. Hobi catches you around the shoulders and for a second, you must look like the mirror image of Tae and Jimin.
Hobi's scent smarts with worry and he pushes you back, making you sit down. “They can live with it, she deserves a special treat. I’m getting you a Band-Aid.” Tae looks like she wants to argue with Hobi, then doesn’t.
Hobi gets Skittles and Peanut Eminem’s and two bags of funyuns that you pick apart while you wait for the doctors to be done. The colorful packages are scattered across your lap as he tilts your head to put the Band-Aid on your chin (gotten from a helpful nurse). Fingers that tenderly curve under the wide part of your jaw, drumming there.
Tae nibbles on a peach ring. Inside Jungkook's hospital room, it isn't quiet, but the four of you are silent with exhaustion listening in. Jin sounds relieved, and the low grumble from your mate sounds just as happy.
Jimin still isn’t speaking much, just pacing back and forth in front of Jungkook’s door. When you say you feel nauseous, Hobi gets up and gets you ginger ale too. You know there just isn’t much for him to do, alpha instincts and no omega to cool them but you. Hobi holds your hand, he doesn’t say that Jungkook’s going to be okay. He doesn’t say anything but.
“Which are your favorite?”
The back of Skittles jingles and he picks out all the green ones, lining up his pants in an orderly little row for you to grab when the ones you suck on go small enough.
You don't realize you're crying until he gets you a tissue, dabbing at your cheek. "There you go, Kookies gonna be fine. He's always fine." His voice goes slower, honeyed.
You rest your cheek on his shoulder, and he lets you. “You got a pair of headphones?” Your breath is shaky, and you think you might be shaking apart right now if it wasn’t for Hobi.
Namjoon stares at the packages for a second too long when he exits the door. His hair is pushed up like he’s run his fingers through it, but he doesn’t smell quite as worried as he did before. He looks at the package and you shrink underneath his disapproving stare.
He all but snaps his fingers, “Tae, would you please go get some real food.” Hobi does not flinch at Namjoon’s cross-tone, even as Tae shoots to her feet and chirps "Yes alpha!"
Hobi doesn’t do anything but stare Namjoon down, put a pink starburst on his tongue, slowly.
Jimin keeps pacing.
“We’re sleeping here tonight.” It’s not an order or a request- your pack alpha has decided that this is too great a danger to separate you so you won’t separate. Neither of you pipes up anything to the contrary, now is not the time for contrary voices.
Jimin is still pacing. Black leather shoes smoothed and silent, barely acknowledging the pack alpha.
He’s making you anxious, your scent sour even to your own nose as your eyes track him back and forth. Namjoon pulls you to your feet, hand lingering on the back of your neck. “Will you be okay in those clothes pup? Or should someone go home and get your things?”
You hear the request for what it is; Namjoon is asking you if you think the alphas need a nest to settle if you think they need a change of clothes and things that smell like pack tonight for sleep and safety. he's leaving this up to you.
Your hands stay buried in the pockets of Tae’s white floral jacket. Hoping he doesn’t notice the soot smudge on your shoulder. “It'll be fine just-” your eyes are half glassy, “are you sure Koo will be okay?”
The pack alpha pulls you to his front, and one of the nurses passing by gives you both a look, you have to get on your tippy toes to kiss him. "of course he's going to be, we're making sure of it" Namjoon promises.
"I meant like, without a nest."
Namjoon laughs, and you watch the stress melt off his shoulders. he turns, guiding you inside with a peculiar look over his shoulder at Hobi. “I’m sure he’d love it if you’d help him make one. he already wants to start"
Jungkook looks a little bit better, with less of a pale-yellow flush to his face and more of a healthy glow. pouting down at the blankets and complaining that they're too rough.
For someone who looks so physically well/muscles defined even when they’re not flexed, it’s always a bit startling to see him lying prone and exhausted, lights dim to avoid the risk of another seizure.
Tae comes back with some food, and you all eat in silence, white Styrofoam containers balanced across your knees. The faint crinkle and drag of plastic spoons scraping plastic bowls. Jungkook eats hospital food. Nibbles it, and doesn't throw it up. One of the side effects of the medication is nausea.
The only one not at ease is Jimin, who doesn’t eat, sitting tacitly in the corner watching each of you, getting up occasionally to pace. The pack let him work off his restless energy until it’s clear it’s making Jungkook restless too. Shifting and watching him. His request of, “Minnie will you come and sit by me?” goes unanswered as Jimin flexes his hands from open palm to open fist again and again.
Jungkook watches the jello in his plastic tray jiggle with the force of Jimin's pacing, back and forth. Back and forth. Tae sighs, and Yoongi stiffens.
He goes like that, pacing one two three steps just in front of Tae before turning. He falls apart like this until Jin steps up to intercept him, and Jimin rocks to a stop rather than crash into him. He’s put his hands on Jimin’s shoulders, fingers digging into the tense ball there. Moving quicker than any of you thought possible.
“Breathe.” Comes his terse request. A little broken, a little begging. But Jimin’s alpha will never willingly disobey an order from his pack omega, that’s what’s happening, isn’t it? Jimin’s alpha has taken over, took over the second he saw Jungkook lying between those two tables in the coffee shop. All instinct and no Jimin, all fear and pulse and get them safe get them home get them out.
But it’s like Jimin’s lungs are pried open from it. He gasps, and Jin pulls him in for a thorough scent mark, systematically dragging his teeth from ear to ear, hard enough to leave dull red lines in his wake. You watch Jimin’s eyes dilate and constrict, plush lips parting in a gasp. Looking at you.
Jin licks his teeth after, “There you go.” You don’t know if you’ve ever seen Jin settle Jimin or if you’ve ever seen him settle any of the alphas like this. Jimin asks for bites again and Jin obliges. Bending over him to drive his teeth, to nip Jimin's skin pink between his teeth. Bite after bite Jimin’s body relaxes inch by inch.
And so does the rest of the pack, underneath the covers, Jungkook shifts his hips, splaying them a little wider. Relaxing as Jimin goes boneless.
Jin’s voice is a dark croon, the tone he reserves only for Jimin and maybe Namjoon sometimes. He's a little firmer when the more dominant alphas need his touch. Jimin feels it as delicately as Yoongi's soothing thumb on the side of your thumb when Jin pinches his cheeks and shakes him a little bit.
“Now, do you want to tell Omega why you’re upset?”
“S’my fault” Jimin sways on his feet, closer to Jin’s touch than back again. a planet in orbit. the rest of the pack watched transfixed. You see Hoseok perk up slightly. “Wasn’t there.”
“Minnie, I know you,” Jin cups his cheek a little gentler. Fingers skimming stubble. “I know you,” Jin repeats, such an air of finality about it that you can’t doubt it to be true.
Jin could command the moon to shift its orbit and it would. “I know you’ll do whatever’s possible to protect the pack" Jimin's eyelashes flutter. "To your dying breath.”
“You don’t have to be so intense about it” Namjoon half snaps, any of them dying isn't what he wants to think about right now. But he's forgiven the second he realizes he's being too harsh, everyone’s a bit stressed right now.
Jin’s dark tone falls away as quick as it came, “But still- what happened with JK wasn’t your fault, isn’t that right kookie?”
Jungkook nods, eyes closed, licking his lips like he's tasting the settling in the air. “Not Jimin’s fault my brains fucked up, just how it is” Jin pecks Jimin’s head, pinning his blond hair flat. “See pup? Listen to the omega’s, You’re fine. Everyone's going to be fine."
Jin speaks the words so surely you almost believe it.
The hospital is a bit generous with the extra sleeping cots (Namjoon might have called his boss and asked him to pull privileges), and you get 3 that they roll up one on one side of Jungkook's hospital bed, and two more on the other side.
But you and Jin pile in just around him. Cuddled up close and scenting along his shoulders, sniffling and fluffing a few extra threadbare blankets around him in a makeshift nest, full of your jackets too.
You steal Tae's pants for the nest making, letting her untuck her nightdress and let it flutter around her. But when one of the nurses comes to the door Namjoon (panicked) throws himself across the exposed line of her honeyed thighs to conceal her nakedness. but she just giggles, she’s not some Victorian maiden full of virtue, but it makes Jungkook smile and scrunch his nose. and it feels like a win even if Namjoon's cheeks go bright red.
You cuddle up, trying fitfully to banish the medicinal scent by scenting him. It's sour and not all like him, but the medicine they give him for his seizures always makes him smell a little off for a few days. It’s no less distressing to you, but Jungkook just grins and tells the others to let you do what you need when you rest your body weight on top of him and stubbornly bury your face in his chest. His hand with the attached IV strewn across your back to cradle your ribs.
Before no time Jungkook is laughing and leaning into Yoongi’s stomach where he lies across the top of the bed. In no time he's taking a few bites of veggies and a few sips of water, eyes heavy. He is tried from the seizure and medication even if he puts on a brave face.
They’ll drag him into one more MRI in the morning just to be sure that nothing concerning has developed over time but until then, the beeping of Jungkook’s heart monitor is your lullaby. Every heartbeat is a new chance. You don't even mind the lumpy hospital pillow. The pack goes quiet when Jungkook's eyes flutter, when they shut and his breathing goes deep. yoongi puts his finger to his lips and jin shifts slowly, Jungkook's head resting on his thigh. your lovely packmate resting between jin's parted legs.
The rest of the pack falls like Domino’s once Jungkook's asleep. Hobi shucks off his jeans to be more comfortable and so does Yoongi. The room is full of heavy breaths and dreams waiting to swoop in. You struggle to settle until Hobi gives you one of his headphones, and you lie close to share them, one in each of your ears. he still has his sleepy time playlist, and it blocks out the sounds of the hospital. When Sleep takes you it's thankfully dreamless.
Somehow Hobi's hand finds your waist under the covers, bunching up and tangling in his sweatshirt. Clinging to you and holding on for dear life. His bare thighs between your thin leggings tangled up in the makeshift nest. Jin only glances at your particular closeness a few times.
Sleep evades jin until he gives up on it entirely. Nothing feels quite as good to Jin’s instincts as having all of his packmates sleeping in one room. Even if it's not quite good enough to get him to fall asleep himself. But still- Jin would rather they not be here; would rather they be in the nest at home.
That will have to wait until tomorrow.
The distant hum of the hospital and the sound of his dull typing fill the room. His work computer screen is the only light in the whole room besides the monitors. Jin's computer balanced on his back because Jin had to leave during a briefing on a low-level gang member and Koo said he didn’t mind being used as a computer rest so long as Jin kept running his hands through his hair. Jimin is curled up on the next nearest cot, within petting (and settling) distance if he should need it.
7 a.m.
A look at the clock says that the pack has 5 more hours until Jungkook is allowed to be discharged. Until then, Jin will get some work done and keep an eye on the rest. Namjoon sleeps by the door, he declined a cot on account of there not being enough room for the rest of them to sleep comfortably. Namjoon turns fitfully with every new person who walks by the door. He’s gone in and out of sleep a few times. If he flinches awake again, Jin will get him a cup of coffee.
Until then, there's paperwork and an endless array of evidence for Jin to examine.
There are documents he can look over again, the same ones, back and forth. There are about 300 crime scene photos for each murder that the family has committed in the last 6 months, it doesn’t hurt to skim them again and refresh his notes.
That boy from the coffee shop burned beyond recognition. A pair of 30 caliber bullets in his chest. One under his ribs the other in his head, evidence of deep lacerations and torture on his body, bitten tongue, and evidence of red paint under his fingernails. The only other bit of evidence.
The origin of these paint flecks have been a source of annoyance and frustration for jin and the rest of his coworkers. Maybe they're evidence from a third location between abduction and dumpsite? A bit of the killer's car scraped maybe? The paint was metallic, old-fashioned. After a few minutes, Jin moves on to other murders, other people who have lives and packs and dreams that the family extinguished.
Jin no longer spends hours looking at his picture. The one of Choi Beomgyu alive and grinning. He still gets weekly calls from his pack alpha, begging Jin for any updates and leads. Jin has stopped feeling guilty over being empty-handed.
Jin’s boss's crime scene photos are a little harder to look at if only because of the nausea that those photos bring. Although Jin has become so desensitized to them that his bloated face no longer makes his stomach swirl with revulsion. His missing hand, the torn stump of it induced post-mortem.
One burned and one drowned.
These two kills are by far the family's messiest and hastiest. Usually, they don't even find this much of the bodies. Just a few fragments of bone or a tooth in a pire. Most of the time people just disappear.
What did you know, he thinks, looking at the photograph of the boy and then his charred corpse, what did you know that you shouldn’t have? Why didn't they have time to properly make you disappear? Why couldn't they risk you talking?
It’s funny, out of all the evidence, he tries to look at your cookbook and the late Don and data’s autopsy reports the least. Their tox screen and that one page that might as well be your confession and Ahn Hyejin's (Jin compared the second handwriting to a sample they had on file and matched hers to it in about an hour). Their murder was a neat and tidy little thing, but it is the murder that got his boss killed so maybe Jin should treat it with more scrutiny.
But that’s so simple, it’s almost a wonder why such a slight thread of spider silk needed snipping. Or is Jin wrong and this is a thread that could send the whole thing crumbling down?
Jin’s not sure yet, but maybe after a few more hours of pouring over this, he will be.
It’s nearing 3 in the morning and Jin is still sifting through every little bit of information when a ding punctuates the quiet in the room. Jin panic smashes the mute button before any of his packmates stir.
A warm body away, Hobi lets out a particularly deep and easy breath, and Jin relaxes.
Jin’s first thought looking at the email, is that no one not directly connected to the bureau should be able to get ahold of his email address, let alone be able to send him anything.
The email doesn’t have a heading, and the email doesn’t even have a subject or a cc. Unlike half of Jin’s other correspondents to other people giving them guidelines and delegating tasks. It's only secure for him to look at these here because everyone’s eyes are closed.
On closer look, the sender is just a random email generated with an obscure amount of Xs. He hovers over it. Cursor blinking until he clicks it, he knows better than to click on the link without launching it on his firewall server but the contents of the email aren’t anything but a video and a short line of text.
Skip to 17:19:07 for the fun parts :)
The video isn’t infested with bugs planning on robbing his data and pilfering him for information. No, the data and danger is just right there when Jin skips ahead, Jin holds his breath as he watches the grainy imagery.
The security camera is an IPC-110 if the shitty quality is anything to judge by. Trust a parking garage to install the shittiest CCTV cameras on the market but still the blurry figures of two of Jin’s packmates is unmistakable as he watches. Jimin’s face terse and afraid, backing up against the wall and exchanging words.
The flash of light is so sudden it makes Jin flinch hard and Jungkook groans, before settling and smacking his lips. Jin hardly notices as he watches you and Jimin get thrown by the blast, tight nuckled watching Jimin tuck his body around you and shouting your name. Pauses the video just to look at Jimin's panic-stricken face. To see him yank you to your feet and put you in the car.
Jungkook makes another soft whine when Jin shifts him, jostling him “One second baby” Jin murmurs, putting his computer to the side. Your jacket is on the side of the nest, delicately folded into the border. Jin detangles it and brings it to his nose.
Fire, burning things, soot. The smell is unmistakable. If the timestamp is to be believed, this is the reason why you and Jimin weren’t at the coffee shop with Jungkook. Jin feels the last little bit of his frustration fade at this.
Oh, Minnie.
It’s no wonder why Jimin was too spooked to speak, why he’s been so laconic tonight. First you and then Jungkook so quick. The stress would have anyone shutting down, this is why Jin's smallest but strongest alpha was so quiet and afraid. Why he’d needed a bit of settling when usually he’s someone Jin can depend on during Jungkook’s seizures. One surprise is hard enough to handle.
Jin shifts his petting from Jungkook’s hair to Jimin’s, combing through his blond strands lovingly.
He rewinds the tape back to the beginning, as far back as it will go, and sets it to 3x speed. The first hour goes by in 5 minutes, The person on camera is in all black, but even in black and white Jin would know the kind of mask they wear. It's red at the top and a stunning grimace at the bottom.
He watches as someone slight and billowy, probably 5’7 in height- no 5’9- figure cuts through the cars, heading for Jimin’s like they know which one to go for. The CCTV footage doesn’t cut out at all. Usually, the family is better in concealing their crimes. Usually, they don’t even leave a hint of evidence.
Usually, they don't send the evidence to Jin.
Jin freezes the frame when the figure turns, with the mask fully facing the camera. It’s a traditional Korean mask, the same one Jin has seen photographed on the rest of the family. He drags up Google, doing a cursory search. The footage is in black and white but the images on file are all red and black.
He goes back to the first murder, those hands, the red paint chipped underneath fingernails and his breathing goes heavy.
He needs to go back to Beomgyu’s dumping site and see if there’s anything red, any other possible reason why he’d have that under his fingernails. Either that or this is all connected, and the same person who killed him is trying to kill you.
Jin's breath goes heavy when he thinks about what could have happened if Jimin hadn't been there.
Jin does not wake you and demand to know what happened, Jin keeps his breathing measured and shallow. Does not let his scent get sour enough to wake the others. Jin fully detangles himself from Jungkook and pauses to lean over you, thumb skimming the Band-Aid on your chin.
No one hurts his pack and gets away with it. No one.
He’ll think about what you know and why Jimin didn't tell him later. Poor thing was probably just too shocked to say anything. You might have convinced him that saying anything would have put Jungkook in distress. Jin's anger is a cool sort, it's not you that he's angry at.
It’s only 5 a.m. but Jin goes and gets a coffee anyways. When he gets back, he shoves it into Namjoon’s hands startling him awake. But one glance at the pack omega says that he means business. Shadowed face unreadable silhouetted against the bright and open hospital door.
“Get the doctor, we’re going home.”
~-~
You wake in the hospital bed, roused by Yoongi's gentle hand on your shoulder, feeling listless and sorer than ever with Hobi’s nose pressed to the nape of your neck and Jungkook at your front. You wonder when that started to feel normal. When Hobi cuddled you stopped feeling so forbidden.
you know that when you take off your clothes you'll find your front bruised from falling, that you'll find your body dinnged. you don't know what you'll say, how you'll excuse the marks away from them but in the meantime, you watch jungkook. get a washcloth from the bathroom and whipe his face for him, standing between his legs.
"do you want water? coffee? can i get you something before your MRI"
namjoon sighs heavy, "pup- he can't-"
jungkook leans into your hands, letting you drag the cloth over his face, it's as much grooming as you ever have, but jungkook just smiles up at you and shakes his head. "when we get home yeah?"
The golden light streams through the horizontal blinds and Jungkook shifts as he gets out of the hospital bed and into a wheelchair for his MRI, and you wait for him with the rest of the pack. Yoongi returns with bagels and coffee for everyone. The caffeine makes you all jittery.
After he's given a clean bill of health, Jungkook leaves the hospital under his own power, on his own two feet because he always needs that certainty. Declining the wheelchair that the staff offers because honestly, he’s fine, he'd run out of here if he didn't think namjoon would drag him right back inside.
You’re guided into Jimin’s car, Yoongi drives. Hobi is in the front, turning to look at you more than he should, asking you questions about what song you want to play. Really, it can go as loud as you want cuz Jungkook's in the other car. He asks too many for your brain to answer accurately. You're too tired too worn out too everything to answer.
But when you get home, there is even more movement too quick for your sleepy brain to comprehend. Jin has to go to work and so does Namjoon; something about a revision surgery that won’t take too much time and can't be rescheduled. He's barely changed and cleaned himself before he's heading out the door again. Definitely a bit too tired, but oh well.
But now at home, the rest of the pack has Jungkook well in hand and ready for a bit more babying. Jungkook will be fine by this evening. Is honestly fine now. Just a little tired of being poked and prodded and just needs to nest and rest.
Jin too seems distracted by something, checking his phone and kissing each of you on the forehead before he goes. You're tempted to whine and ask them to stay, if not for Jungkook then for you but before you can, Hobi grips both of your shoulders and tells Namjoon and Jin that he’s got it, and the moment gets stolen away from you.
“I’ll get your pajamas,” he says after the door thuds closed, while Jungkook says something to Yoongi. Noodle meows and darts around Tae's heels and Jimin carries Jungkook to the couch and gently, gently- sets him down. Your mate is distracted right now (as he should be) but that doesn’t mean Hobi can’t fill the gaps.
He thuds up the stairs, bare feet probably cold. The house is still cold from a night left empty even though Yoongi’s just turned the heat on.
Jimin gets a ding on his phone, standing up the second he’s seen it.
Unknown (9:18): I want to talk to you about a murder.
Unknown (9:18): One you might have a vested interest in.
The picture is grainy, but Jimin knows the faces of the two women like the back of his hand although Hyejin takes a few seconds of racking his brain to place. Jimin feels his blood cool to a simmer and the shaking in his hands stops. His phone dings a few more times, whoever's sending it through must be a fast texter, from a burner phone no doubt.
Unknown (9:19): Especially because of the sensitive nature of this, you understand why I’d want to meet in person.
Unknown (9:19): (See attached address)
Jimin's suspicions are immediately peaked, warning bells going off loud. But before he can do more than read over the messages again more come through.
Unknown (9:20): I’m willing to offer you 10x your normal rate for each kill. Two Mil upfront. And Three more when the hit is carried out. I understand how risky it is for you to even view these texts so here
Jimin watches the next notification from his bank account ding through and holds his breath.
Fuck, that's a lot of Zeros.
Unknown (9:20): As a show of my good faith in you. I'll see you in three hours. If not, enjoy the money.
Jimin holds onto the phone like it’s a lifeline, the black plastic case digging into his fingers. He knows it's stupid, he knows that it's dangerous, and a million other things but-
Jin's words ring in his ears. "I know you'll do whatever you have to do to protect the pack, until your dying breath."
The money means nothing to Jimin, he'd do this killing for free. Out of all the lives he's ever taken, this is the first one that maybe he's ever felt vindicated in. the first murder that he's ever truly wanted to commit.
He's gripping his phone so hard he doesn't move until you make a noise. And when he looks up at you, you have a glass of water in your hands, waiting there, watching him. There is still that fucking scrape on your chin. Jimin looks at it and his mind is made up. All of this karma has come due.
If Jimin's being honest with himself, it's not Moonbyul’s confrontation or her comments about you that had Jimin so bothered.
All that "you belong to me" kind of talk that bullshit alphas with something to prove say, like something out of a manhwa. If he's being honest, the thing that bothered him the most, that made him so very angry was how clearly you didn't want them, and how willing she was to ignore that.
He grins at you, tipping his head back and you think Jimin might look like more of a demon than a man.
“I have to go to work.”
“What?” Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and he reaches for Mini and tries to cling but Jimin steps away, sliding back on his still-warm shoes. “I thought you called out already?”
Jimin tugs on his coat, The one with the reinforcement in it, hard panels that flap just a little bit too stiffly. The shoulders that seem just a little too crisp.
"Sorry Koo it's an emergency."
You know just by looking at him that this isn’t for his other job. (You don’t think of bodyguarding as Jimin's real job, not when this one is so much more prescient and dangerous.) You follow him outside, the door closing with that same rusty jingle of the old doorknob.
“It’s not from her.” The words are quiet, stolen. The empty birdfeeder clangs in a sudden wind and you shiver, warm only for a few seconds without a jacket. Jimin’s hand skims your shoulder and he pushes at it, urging you to go back inside.
“It’s not just her who hires me, this isn’t related to her.” He lies effortlessly. Turning and making to walk away, you wrap your arms around him and almost make him fall down the stairs but he catches both of you, swaying at the bottom.
“Pup, you need to let me go,”
“No!” you cling to him stubbornly, “if I let you go something bad is going to happen!”
Jimin is so quiet you think you might not hear him. He stops struggling and trying to twist out of your arms for a second. “You’ve got to, I have to do this, please.” his tone is so calm, so gentle. Jimin is smiling down at you when you pull back to look up at him. He gently but forcefully separates you from him, hands holding yours and prying them apart.
“I’ve got too much to make up for. You have to let me do this.”
You have a bad feeling about this, your instincts that you should listen to. Walking into this so soon after Jungkook’s seizure. Is this punishment for leaving him? Jimin slips from between your hands. Walking to his car, and you feel a lurching in your gut like something terrible is about to happen.
You say nothing, watching him, heart beating quick. but you are powerless to stop him, powerless to keep him from leaving.
You wonder if this is how Yoongi felt, leaving them. Powerless.
“You'll come back? you've got to- you can't-" you can't leave us is what you want to say. Standing on the steps of the house, Jimin by his car.
"I'd never dream of leaving you." Jimin says, swearing it. And all the fight goes out of your sails.
"Be careful Minnie.”
He looks back at you, hair ruffled by the wind. All the snow from the night before has melted but the cold will stay.
“Always am.”
You nod, giving him permission and Jimin gets in his car. You return inside where it’s warmer. And Jimin turns it on, but before he has a chance to pull away from the curb, his phone lights up with another notification.
Unknown (9:27): Make sure to wear your mask.
~-~
The location on his phone is a lot more desolate in person, the scrub brush that’s that's grown in is thick enough to hide his car. Green by the river and poisoned into sticks here. Jimin parks far away among the maze of what must be four-wheeler tracks and walks in. mask on and gun at the ready.
The rusted metal of the industrial park rises out of the soil and the fog. It has to have been abandoned for years given how poor of a condition it's in. There are a few half-fallen-down buildings and one big complicated warehouse flanked on one side by a wide and slow-moving river. The soil smells strongly of gasoline and rust. The soil here is probably soaked through with it. Jimin wonders if would burn and catch fire if a spark was lit.
The traditional mask fits snugly on Jimin’s face, the hole at the mouth just large enough for him to not feel like he’s suffocating. Eye holes are wide enough to see and not block his peripheries.
The doors are cracked and nearly rusted shut with age but Jimin slides through a crack easily. He’s a whole hour early on purpose. This is all by design, every moment of this. Every second is orchestrated like a symphony;
Jimin is the violin, with high and pointed movements, drawing his weapon like a cymbal. The crunch of his boots on the floor the drums, every breath a crooning saxophone. His thoughts flute spiraling up like high delights. All of this builds to one big crescendo.
He doesn’t take out his phone to check the time. The upstairs is mostly unlit but Jimin doesn't use a light, just lets his eyes adjust. He waits, stalking quietly, completely silent in his movements.
Jimin is not nervous about this handoff, mostly, he’s just wondering who it is in the family that's finally betraying her. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t suspect that the conditions of this were a little too perfect. Money and all.
The main atrium of the industrial park is rusted up with age. Old metal shipping containers that used to hold smelting equipment or maybe molten metal long since rusted out even though the chains still hang from the ceiling. A suspended catwalk rings the room on all sides.
Jimin spends a few minutes casing the place, noting the exits, and the obvious places to hide. The old rusty fans at the apex of the roof turn and squeak softly from the wind outside. The whole place smells like chemicals and rust. It's all Jimin can do not to have a coughing fit.
It’s a wonder he doesn’t smell the blood sooner
(Trust me, I speak from experience. if you spend enough time around blood that's not your own, you’ll eventually be able to smell it. Even a drop in an empty room. like a hound the the hunt. You'll smell it.)
Jimin is almost done with logging the entrance and exits when he finds the body.
He rushes to their side, Jimin doesn’t recognize their face when he slides whats left of the traditional mask off their face, it's the same as his. Racking his brain to recognize the face but nothing. the masks is broken into pieces. A bullet between the eyes is a good shot.
Before Jimin can do anything, can decide if this is a setup or just a meet-up gone wrong, He hears footsteps behind him.
~-~
In the wake of Jin, Namjoon, and Jimin leaving, the rest of the pack is a bit forlorn. Jungkook is not so mobile, not so willing to make the trek upstairs. Worried about the stairs and any sudden seizures and all. But there is no shortage of cuddle spots on the ground floor, you've made many a nest in the living room before.
And besides, in such proximity to the kitchen, Jungkook can have all his treats this way.
Lately, it’s started to feel like the pack has several nests, the one upstairs, the nesting pod, and the one on the old grey couch when you shove all the pieces together. Yoongi indulges jungkook in half a bar of dark chocolate while you get some nesting materials. Blankets and your wet cheeks catching the dimmed lights.
You’re a little pouty and a lot quiet, and the others take note of it. Skimming comforting hands up and down your shoulders, always touching you like they’re making sure you’re there. They don't ask why you're upset at Jimin leaving. They don't have to wonder. you snap the blanket as you fluff it huffing.
Jungkook finds your angry nestmaking cute. he pulls you down on top of him nipping at your throat when you fuss a little too long. Testing out Jin's method of settling on you.
It’s surprising even to you when the action sparks tears in your eyes, the opposite he was hoping for. You rub at your wet eyes with a clenched fist stubbornly. It’s not even noon yet and you’re already crying. You're so exhausted by everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours, so tired. You can't be blamed for getting a little teary-eyed.
Tae reappears, freshly showered. Her shoulder-length hair already starting to dry. tilting your face up to her's and says "Oh my little dove-
She piles into the nest and upstairs you hear Hobi moving around. tae stradles jungkook's thighs and shifts the two of you, lying you all flat,
"Don’t worry about Minnie, he’s always had something to prove.” You rub at your tears stubbornly, sniffling and nodding. Jungkook threads his fingers through the back of your hair, a little indelicately. But he loves without boundaries, like a butterfly flapping its wings for the first time.
“But why-” your words are quiet but broken, “why does he always feel so-"
“Guilty?” Tae finishes for you, looking out the window in the direction that Jimin disappeared. Humming as she strips you of Hobi's sweatshirt.
Hobi appears at the bottom of the stairs smiling. "Are we talking about Jimin's guilt complex again?"
Your mate groans and finishes putting together a little snack board. "I swear we've probably had this discussion like- fucking 20 times?" Yoongi's not wrong.
You only get more teared-eyed, crying a little bratty, thumping weakly against jungkook's chest, he grabs your thigh and pulls you snug across his lap. "But why! Why does he feel like everything is his fault?"
Tae hides her sad smile behind a hand, and you're less upset looking at it. Calmed in a second, because they have talked about this you realize, everyone in the pack is well aware.
“I guess he feels guilty because," Tae sighs, "because he was so loved.” Tae's fingers dance along Jungkook's thigh, and you're all quiet. everyone is quiet when they hear tae talk about jimin. it's a little like listening to someone describe what it feels like listening to your favorite song for the first time, what it's like to taste your favorite food, the feeling of a first kiss.
Hobi comes close to tae, sets down a shirt and a pair of pants. "would you get them into this while i shower?" the curtains are drawn and hobi goes upstairs and Tae undresses you while she speaks. You're a doll, teary eyed and willing as she and Jungkook strip you and put you in clean clothes. You didn't realize how much you needed to not smell like hospital until it's done.
"The first love you lose always hurts you the most, whether that's romantic love or parental love doesn't really matters. Each person metabolizes it differently. Truthfully, I believe that Jimin lost love the first time and promised himself- never again."
Tae talks, playing with Jungkook’s hair. He pouts “he's never gonna lose us.” Tae hums, agreeing. But you can see in her eyes the sadness there. Wounds that might never heal and wanting that might never fade.
Yoongi sits down beside you and together, the three of you undress and dress Jungkook. He could probably do it himself just like you could, but he's a willing puppet, happy when Tae tickles his tummy and slides his shirt over his head.
A minute later, Hobi's back, wet head that drips onto your cheek when he leans over Jungkook's curled form to grab one of the grapes on the snack board that Yoongi made. And Tae stares off into space, thinking of Jimin, how they met and how they feel in love, everything between then and now.
Tae smiles just thinking of him. "i know that pup, he just- he can't let himself believe it no matter how much he wants too. It was really hard on him, how our parents treated us, Jimin has guilt built into him because they made him that way."
It's too simple of an explanation for what they went through. What does it mean to love a parent that hates you? Or at least to have a parent that does not strive to understand you. How many times did the words linger on Tae’s lips? Standing in the doorway wearing a little boy jersey and little boy clothes, listening to his mother talk about the things on the news.
Wondering, Mom, would you give up God for me?
Tae rests her cheek on her hand. Her nail polish has gotten all chipped, maybe she picked at it nervously while you were at the hospital. She has a habit of picking at it when she needs something for her hands to do.
“If Jimin had a religion- it would be love. And every time he feels even a little bit like he's not loving us the way he should, he beats himself up for it and guilts himself into loving harder, loving better. He considers a lack of love the greatest crime. So yeah, feeling guilty is par for the course."
Jungkook groans, tipping his head back against the sofa, “I’ve told him, I’ve told him a million times-“
“Doesn’t matter” Hobi interrupts, “he still hates it when he’s not there when you have a seizure. He's upset with himself, that's why he left. Giving him more love when he feels like he doesn't deserve it is like his worst nightmare.”
You think of the explosion. Of Jimin pining your body and putting himself between you and the blast. Maybe with Jimin it's so instinctual it's not even a conscious decision. You wonder if it ever gets easy, to make the decision to sacrifice yourself for the people you love. Does that make Mimin feel like he deserves them more? the sacrifice?
You don’t know if it would be as innate with you, You might have to think it through for a few seconds.
You don't like that. You don't like realizing that you'd need to think through it however briefly. You fear a world in which you don’t love him as much as he loves you, in which any of this isn’t reciprocal.
(But then again, most recipes have twice as much sugar as butter.)
You melt against Hobi’s side. “He shouldn’t,” you say, feeling useless, a little quieter, a little bit more upset. “He shouldn’t feel guilty, he loves us enough!” Tae’s hand rests on your ankle, and her laugh strikes high and sad.
Outside a mourning dove coos, a lonely soft sound.
“Trust me, I’ve been trying to love Jimin more than he loves me for my whole life. He wants to win the 'I love you more' debate every time.”
~-~
The Industrial Park is different than Jin remembers.
It rises a little more jagged against the surrounding area of 3-meter-high brush that disguises a network of other dilapidated sheds and half flooded buildings. Jin recites what he knows about this place; the facts.
An iron processing plant, decimated by the flood of a nearby river 2 dozen years ago and bought through a shell corporation. Vacant land with so many entrances and exits. A veritable hotbed and the perfect body dumping site. construction on a housing development delayed on account of how expensive the environmental clean up.
He scans the building for red paint.
He can be forgiven for not seeing Jimin’s car, parked on the fringes. The opposite side from where Jin came in because Jin had to stop at the office first. Jin can be forgiven for having his blinders on, so focused with single-minded intent that he misses some of the signs. The smell of gasoline drowns out Jimin's vanilla scent.
Jin sees the fresh footprints in the dirt and draws his weapon.
That's the whole reason why it took him so long to get here, (why Jimin got here first even though he left second) He couldn't just go into an unknown setting alone unarmed, he'd had to stop back at the office to grab his vest and his FBI-issued firearm, a standard-issue Glock 17. Forghein and unwelcomed in his hands.
Even Jin will admit that he’s not the best marksman, (Jin had barely passed his exam a few years back, and continually has to study and practice for his re-certification every 6 months.) Jin does not prefer to be armed. If he wasn’t alone, if he didn’t go by himself for this, He might not have brought his weapon at all.
Jin enters through the front door; the old hanger doors are already open. Feet crunching on the gravel. Jin can feel his heartbeat in his fingers, how hard he’s holding the gun, he’s never had to discharge it during a field excursion before. How unbecoming of a director, how green of him. He lacks this experience.
The tip of the weapon shakes because he's holding it so hard. Jin feels like he can feel the breath of unseen eyes on the back of his neck. Someone is here, he knows it.
Jin walks into the atrium, gun at the ready, turning the corner when he sees them.
One masked man is bending over another a body, already strewn across the floor and dead. the man's mask litters the floor in red shards. Jin sees the gun in the living man's hands, gloved, Jin snaps his hand up and aims before he can really take in the details of the scene.
“Stop! FBI! Put your hands where I can see them!”
The man at the other end of the room tilts his head and does not speak, red mask flashing in the half-light. There is a single breath where the man does not move, just looks at Jin with that tilted face. silent. But then he takes off, running like his life depends on it. bolting down a corridor and out of range of Jin’s accuracy on the best of days.
Jin fires a shot and misses. It hits the metal wall with a loud clink and a bright spark, ricocheting off into space.
Jin curses and takes off after the killer, skidding in the dust and bashing into the wall, gun banning against the door with a loud metallic clang as he slides through it, running from hall to hall trying to get a good shot.
Every time Jin crests a turn and tries to aim, the man rounds another, darting through the maze of hallways and shipping containers.
Jin has longer legs and is taller and faster than his target. He catches up to them by the stairs, the man turns and hesitates again. If Jin were less adrenaline high he might already realize they've tucked their gun away.
“Stop or I’ll shoot!”
The criminal bolts up the stairs and Jin goes too. Up and up and up onto the catwalk. Feet clangs against the metal, the suspended walkway sways under the force of their steps, The chains clanking.
And then, at the very end, he stops.
Jimin turns, casting one glance back at him. And hesitates, the mask catches the light again. And Jimin reaches up, about to take it off. The words, "Stop baby it's me." Already hovering on the edge of his lips.
He never gets the chance to say them. Jin’s finger finds the trigger, and the gun fires in a gorgeous explosion of gunpowder and force. Fire made small, and love made lethal.
Jimin hits the wall from the force of the bullet, hitting the latch at the back of his head.
The mask falls off.
~-~
Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 every word helps motivate me to write the next chapter!
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~-~
Notes:
Everybody lives nobody dies.
Let me repeat that again NOBODY DIES, no one, not even Jimin. He’s just gonna be a little bloody from this, that’s all, before you get angry and yell at me.
I could have made this more convoluted, but I decided not too because…I simply did not want to stage a chapter between this one and the next one.
Jimin’s autistic meltdowns look a whole lot like mine do, I know they’re not typically what other people associate with meltdowns. But going nonverbal and stimming with your body (pacing) is very on par with me.
I felt like we needed to see a little bit of the jinmin dynamic before you know…Jin shoots him, just for funsies. And to talk about how Jimin loves.
A lot of people expressed a desire for Jimin to have some sort of concenquence for the way he treated Tae when she came out, just the part where he needed space, and for him not helping the m/c when he could have. I think this is his penance for that, getting shot by Jin, getting betrayed- however unintentionally- by someone he loves is the justice for those moments. I’ve always been stalwart on the fact that the bily charecters act sort of terribly sometimes because real people act terribly too, they’re dynamic in the way that they love and handle their actions.
On the subject of like- who framed what and explaining the events of the chapter, moonbyul and Hyejin are orchestrating everything. They pay Jimin MOSTLY because they know how suspicious it is and are trying to do anything they can to expose Jin to him. The scene in the industrial park goes exactly the way they wanted it too…accept that Jimin will live. They didn’t count on Jin being a poor shot lol
They are trying not only to manipulate the m/c away from the pack, but destabilize them to try and make the m/c come to them. Having one packmate kill another is definitely they way they wanted to do this. They’d 1000% just kill everyone if they thought that would give them the m/c but they’re attempting to manipulate her into coming to them rather than just abducting her point blank.
Funnily enough this is one cannon-cannon event of bily like, Jin was always going to shoot Jimin. If you go back and forth in other chapters you can see that Jin is almost constantly touching Jimin’s shoulder. It’s up to you if you think that Jin’s bullet got close enough to Jimin’s heart to kill him or if by some luck he survived
That’s a lie I can’t lie to you guys he’s 1000% going to live through this I can’t keep secrets from you guys, no one dies in this story even if it seems like they might at times we only have one more almost death to get through.
I feel like this chapter had less flowery language than my usual ones in part because it’s got a bit from Jin’s pov and also because everyone is so scared and frozen through the whole thing.
I cannot even begin to tell you how much less stressful the next chapter of bily is than my life, like i would rather GET SHOT AGAIN then be where i currently am, with the same level of anxiety that i have.
i wish i had time to edit this more but alas! its only 2 hours until i'll post this and i'm just finishing it up.
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lunargrapejuice · 1 month
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sephiroth + "it's getting crowded. here, hold my hand." and/or "i will never let you go."
p.s i adore how you write sephiroth sm i will always eat it up ravenously thank you <333
ahhh thank you so much lovely!<3 i wrote one but i'm still gonna write the other because i can't help myself with this man hehe🤭🩷 i hope you enjoy this one🥺 it got kinda long im sorry ahh again i could not help myself😵‍💫
🌙 prompt event
i will never let you go prompt
"it's getting crowded. here, hold my hand." | sephiroth x reader with no pronouns used
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tonight the moon seems nothing more than a dim light in the distance against the bright city street that is busy with midgar citizens despite the late hour. booths and open storefronts line the street for as far as you can see, public security having blocked off the area so no vehicles could get through and people could wander the bustling night market freely. the scent of sweet and fried foods fills the air, accompanied by the chatter and giggles of everyone around you but it all feels dull against the butterflies in your chest that hadn’t stopped for a single moment since the start of your walk home.
but how could they when sephiroth had waited at the office in order to see you home safely and had kept close since you left the shinra building? you could feel the heat of his body, his long strides slowed in order to keep next to you but it’s a comfortable pace as he walks on the side of the walkway closest to the street and crowds of people.
with how broad his shoulders are, anytime you look up at him, he takes up your whole world, making your cheeks burn at the reminder of just how beautiful he is and how close he actually is to you. one sway of your hand to the right and your fingers would be brushing against his. you could reach out and move his long hair away from his face to give you a better view of those cat-like eyes that have always captivated you. but you don’t and instead let yourself fall into a comfortable silence when your mind runs away with thoughts of how it would feel to card you fingers through his hair, touch the tender skin of his cheek-
before you can get too far away from the reins you normally keep on your feelings for him, your attention to your surroundings come back just in time to see someone running in your direction a little too late for you to move out of the way, their eyes not in front of them and instead of the person jogging beside them. your body tenses, your eyes closing and you draw in a quick breath as if to prepare for the impact and the crash to the ground.
while you do feel the world around you move, there’s no force to the ground and instead of a harsh clashing of bodies, it’s as though you’re being gently tucked into one. the smell of leather and flora fills your senses and you know without a doubt you’re against sephiroth even before your eyes open to confirm it’s true. he had moved so quickly you are only now registering the arm around your middle that keeps you pressed against his body and when your eyes flutter open to be met with his worried ones, light brows knitted together in concern, you’re glad for it as your knees wobble.
he feels the shift in your body weight and easily adjusts his hold on you so you don’t lose your footing but hopes that you don’t hear or feel the way his heart is rapidly beating in his chest with how it feels to have you pressed into him. it certainly gets no better when you look up at him with eyes that sparkle in the street lights. but to his surprise, despite the overwhelming bursts of electricity firing off like fireworks in his chest, he’s able to speak.
“are you alright?”
slow to pull away, regretful that you have to, you feel his hold leave your side only when he knows you’re steady on your feet. your nod your head and the smile you wear is hiding your embarrassment. “ah - sorry about that.”
“it’s fine,” he chuckles, low and sweet, and the melody of it stops your worries in their tracks. all you can focus on is his handsome face in a soft, almost boyish, expression you quite like on him. “distracted by something?”
your cheeks burn and you’re unable to meet his eyes. yes but you’re not able to admit about what. “i guess so,” you try not to think about what was keeping your eyes and your mind occupied, what it felt like to be in his arms, pressed against his chest, just moments ago even though the feeling of him still tingles your skin everywhere your bodies connected. “theres.. just a lot going on out here. i think i’m a little used to the quieter walk home.”
it wasn’t entirely a lie. normally this street was empty on your way home and anytime sephiorth walked you it was just the two of you. you think you both prefer it that way considering how many eyes have looked sephiroths way tonight. you’re thankful they at least have been too busy to stop the famous war hero. or perhaps too scared to with how intimidating his presence felt to most. 
a feeling that wasn’t in your personal repertoire of emotions for him.
oh no, there was nothing close to intimidation or fear when he closes the distance between you, one step that puts you impossibly close as a couple walks behind him and takes a double look back. you hear them whisper his name amongst themselves but his focus is only on you. you’re unable to discern the emotions swirling like mako in his eyes but a part of you wonders if they are mirroring your own.
sephiroth knows this is just a crowd of citizens, not a battlefield or enemy territory, but there’s a deep need within him to protect you, keep you as close as possible so you don’t have to worry about anyone nearly crashing into you again or touching you if you don’t want them to. 
he’s been keenly aware of everyone around you, not normally liking being in such large crowds to begin with and wanting to ensure your safety always, but a part of him is also thankful for them tonight. at least in the sense that he might not have given in to his want to hold you had he not needed to in order to keep you safe. such intimate and tender moments are not something he is used to in the slightest but he craved it with you and the desire had only grown each time you touched. 
now was no exception - goddess it had only made it amplify to the tenth degree. he hadn’t wanted you to step away from his chest that caught your breath on his exposed skin or to be away from the softness of you in his hold. and you’re still here, right in front of him, right within his grasp, so close he could easily lean down and capture your lips.
it takes all of his strength to fight against the heart in his chest that aches for you but even in his seemingly infinite might, it still somehow gets the better of him. if only a bit.
“it's getting crowded. here, hold my hand.”
in your speechless state, all you can do is nod at his words as your cheeks burn and you take his offered hand. the leather of his gloves feels clean and his hand easily encases your own with its size but you also can’t deny how utterly perfect it feels and give it an experimental squeeze at the first step you take back down the street, hoping this walk home will last much longer tonight.
♡♡♡♡♡
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crushedbyhyperbole · 1 month
Text
Cherry Pie Kiss
Slice Three
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: You're cornered and chased by Bartholomew's minions. Separated from Sam and Cas, you and Dean make a run for it. Lust finds you both when you're finally safe. Dean rocks your world.
Words: 3.4k
A/N: This is smutty part 3 of what's now looking like a longer series since I've settled on a cute, fluffy and smutty part 4. At this point I don't think I'll ever be sated in my need for this man but Im so not sorry about it 😂
I do hope you enjoy part 3. If you haven't read parts 1 and 2 check out the Cherry Pie Kiss Masterlist. As always, I value your comments and feedback. Drop a dime and let me know what you think.
Warnings: Smut. Canon-typical action/adventure. Running for your lives. Bit of angst.
*** 18+ Minors Do Not Read or Interact ***
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Dean Winchester.  You hate him.  His stubbornness and stoic grace.  His tenacity and faith that, no matter what, you guys will get it done if you stick together.  The way his eyes pierce you down to your soul when he stares.  At least that’s what you try to tell yourself, hoping that others will believe it too.  Truth is, you’re just as stubborn as he is, holding onto this façade when hatred is so far from what you feel.
Dean sits behind Baby’s wheel, having stormed away from the Gas’n’Sip in frustration.  His eyes follow your every move and your body language as you and Sam try to convince Cas, for the umpteenth time, to come with you.  Dean had taken it personally when Cas had refused, and after several attempts at reasoning, bargaining, and begging, Dean had given up, choosing to sit out any further attempts at persuasion.
You look over at the black Impala with its radiant chrome and glossy darkness.  The man inside looks away out to road not wanting the hurt, so plain on his face, to be seen.
“I’ll be back in a sec,” you say to Sam, touching his forearm gently as he continues to reason with the fallen Angel.
You feel compelled to at least try to comfort Dean.  Since you two had talked that night in the dingy room-only motel out in Crocker, you had maintained a stable yet strained connection.  You had still been pissed at him for using you and Sam as bait so you had sent him back to his room with another kiss and the promise of “when I’m ready”.  Since then, you two had never been alone for more than a few minutes; there was always Sam, or witnesses, or monsters.
Dean’s head snaps your way when you pull the door open, his face schooled into that smooth mask he wears when he’s hurt but unwilling to be vulnerable.  Cas’s decision has really hit him hard.
Sliding in the passenger side, you angle yourself towards him and reach to take one of his hands which is picking at the fingernails of his other.  Ordinarily, you wouldn’t risk such a gesture but with Sam a couple of hundred meters away and the height of the dash to obscure it, you’re not worried.
Dean allows the contact, his head hanging.  “Cas made his choice.”  His voice is low and gravelly with emotion.
“Doesn’t mean he can’t change his mind.”  You reason, trying not to throw fuel on the fire.
“He knows where I am if he does.”  He states, matter of fact.  “I’m not wasting another breath on him.”
“He’s your best friend.”
“You’re my best friend.”  Dean looks at you and squeezes your hand which is entwined with his, resting on his thigh.  “You and Sam.”
“I’m just some girl you want to fuck.”  You chuckle, and Deans lips quirk a subtle smirk briefly before he replies.
The words don’t come out, however.  Dean catches movement at the side of the Gas’N’Sip, and he drops your hand to turn over the engine, thrusting the heel of his other hand on Baby’s horn as he does so.
Sam and Cas look in your direction and then see the four figures walking quickly and with purpose, coming between them and the Impala.  Shit!  Angels.  Bartholomew’s minions, no doubt.  How have they found you again?
“Son of a bitch!”  Dean hisses, cranking the car into drive, kicking up stones in the gravel lot as the wheels spin, gaining traction to take you to Sam and Cas.
You fumble your seatbelt, sliding on the seat and right into Dean with a grunt as he swerves to avoid a blacked-out Escalade that grinds to a halt between you and your friends.
Sam and Cas are already on the move, running fast towards the gold Lincoln pimpmobile Cas had somehow acquired, Sam waving Dean off as they scramble into the car and peel out of the lot before the Angels could reach them.  You, however, are stuck.  With the Escalade and four fallen angels between you and the lot exit, Dean turns the wheel, locking it out and put his foot on the gas, spinning the car around with an horrific noise from the tyres.  At the back of the lot is a chainlink fence with a gate that leads to a dirt road which split in two, one branch heading to the highway, the other into scrubland that precedes a dense-looking woodland.  You can lose them in the trees.
Dean winces as he ploughs baby through the chainlink gate, lamenting the damage that is sure to be done, and turns the car towards the highway.
“We can lose them in the trees,” you cry, point to the woods.
“Baby doesn’t have the ground clearance for it,” Dean says roughly, manoeuvring the car through a side-on skid with the heel of his hand on the wheel and his other hand gripping the side of the seat to stop himself from sliding as the car spins.  Once straight, he slams his food on the gas and burns rubber onto the tarmac, heading in the opposite direction to Sam and Cas.
You know he’s right about the car.  The Escalade is 4x4 and sits high which gives it the advantage off road in the woods when the trail inevitably turns to a glorified hiking path.  You’re not even sure the highway is a much better option given that Baby is an older, classic car, but you know Dean keeps her in tip-top shape and she’s got a lot of power under her hood.  That being said, the Escalade could be seen in the rearview, weaving through traffic to catch up to you.
The shrill ring of your phone makes you jump as you try to focus on the road and on what’s behind.  You need to be a second set of eyes for Dean while he’s pushing Baby to create some distance from the Escalade.
“Hey, Sam!”  You sigh with relief, reading his name on your display, putting him on speaker.
“This is Castiel,” the former Angel’s flat tone carries from the phone.  “Sam is driving.  He said I’m too slow.”
You grin big.  That’s a classic Winchester brother thing to do.  From the corner of your eye you see Dean smirk.
“Just tell them we’re headed west and haven’t been followed.”  Sam sighed with mild frustration.
“Damn it’s good to hear your voice, Sammy!”  Dean spoke loudly in that extra deep tone he uses when he is running on adrenalin.  You know he left Cas out because he is still hurt, but you also know he’s glad Cas is safe too.
“We’re headed in the opposite direction,” you explain.  “The vehicle followed us and we’re trying to shake them but they’re keeping up.”
“Pretty soon we’ll run out of traffic, and on the open road we’ll never lose them.”  Dean frowns as he hunts in the rearview for your pursuers.
“Maybe you can head into the wilderness, hole up and set traps.”  Sam offers.  “We can turn around and try to catch up.”
“No!”  Dean snaps.  “You’re both safe.  I want you to stay that way.  Get someplace and lay low.  We’ll get this done and I’ll call you, ok?”
“Dean…”  Cas begins to speak but Dean is having none of it.
“I said No!  Okay?  For once, just do what I say.  We’ve got this.”
You hang up the phone without waiting for a response.  You can see how worked up Dean is, his brain running overtime as he tries to figure out a plan while he’s trying to evade Bartholomew’s lackies on a road full of other cars.
The satellite map on your phone shows a complex set of junctions several miles up ahead where this road meets and crosses with two interstates, branching off in multiple places to service a small city surrounded by a cluster of smaller towns.  It looks promising and Dean agrees.
The junction of the roads has raised on and off ramps that weave in and around the support structures of the main interstate, with frontage roads servicing the branches at intervals.  Traffic is heavy and Dean follows a newer model black Cady onto the interstate by one of the on-ramps, only to cut across the lanes harshly and slip onto a skewed off-ramp, hoping the Escalade will follow the newer Cady.  Slowing down at the end of the off-ramp, he turns to take the frontage road in the opposite direction, heading slowly up the on-ramp for the interstate carriage way going back in the direction from which you had come, so as not to rejoin too soon and be spotted on the other side.
You check all around as soon as you crest the on-ramp back onto the road, praying you don’t see the black government-style vehicle.  Dean doesn’t wait to find out, he puts his foot down and puts a few eighteen wheelers between you and whatever is behind you.
“I think we’re clear,” you say after about fifteen minutes of hypervigilance.
“Don’t jinx it, sweetheart.”  Dean keeps his eyes on the road, the wheel clasped in two white-knuckled fists.
Switching from the interstate to a smaller road and then to another road but still taking you away from where Sam and Cas had headed, Dean starts to relax.  He chances a look at you, to find you looking right back.  The tension in his neck and jaw haven’t melted away yet but he doesn’t have that hard look of focused fury that he usually does when in fight or flight mode.  He doesn’t say anything and neither do you, but the glances between you become more frequent as though you’re both checking on each other to make sure the other is okay, needing to visually check each time.
A sign by the side of the road identifies the beautiful landscape to your left as Black Water Natural Forest, and with the sun beginning to set behind the mountains in the distance, it seems a good place to wait out the sunset.  You point to the sign and Deans nods.  He doesn’t argue, knowing you need a place to park-up off road away from prying eyes to get your bearings and make a plan to meet up with your friends.
As the road gets narrower and the trees get more dense, Dean slows the car, casting furtive glances at you.  It’s making your skin burn, the way he looks at you now, with that hunger in his eyes.  You feel it too.  Weeks of tension built between you, and todays threat to your lives now culminating in a deep need for some kind of release.  You lick your lips, breathing shallow and quick as you try to regain your composure, but Dean isn’t doing much better.  You look at him fully and he all but moans when he sees the look in your eye.
A turn off presents itself that leads to a small muddy lot where hikers can park their cars when they venture out into the forest.  Dean brings Baby to a stop so hard your seatbelt catches you, then he yanks it into park and fumbles for the seal lever.  You unclip your belt as the front seat slides back fully and he reaches for you, helping you straddle his lap.
You waste no time, kissing him fervently as you unbutton your shirt while he tries to push it from your shoulders before it’s open.  Breaths are gasps released between kisses, tongues touching, tasting and tempting more passion, and you succumb to the frenzy of heat that’s born of your need to feel something other than fear.  Your need to feel him.
You’re both a mess of fumbling hands and sloppy kisses as clothes are shucked and skin exposed.  You try to stand, your legs either side of his as you unbutton your jeans and he unclasps his belt.
The loud sound of the Impala’s horn echoes out amongst the trees, startling birds so they take wing and both of you into stillness and silence.
Dean looks at you with panic but then grins and laughs, reaching to tug your jeans down your legs until they’re bunched up around your boots.
It’s awkward but you can still straddle him like this and, as you kneel back onto the black leather seat, he lifts his hips to grind himself impatiently against you.  The desperation in your eyes is matched by the eagerness in his.  He is rapt, eyes absorbing the sights and sounds of your body and of your pleasure as you grind yourself against him.  Your slicked pussy drenching his cock as you slide yourself along his length but deny him entry just when his tip catches at your entrance.
Dean fondles your breasts, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your skin until he reaches your hardening peaks.  His kisses become more suckling then, nibbling them and flicking them firmly with his tongue until you’re almost shaking above him.
“You ready for me?”  You ask, breathless.
“Sweetheart,” he treats you to his classic sultry smirk, “I’ve been ready for you since you moved in.”
You grin, knowing he’s been jonesing for you for that long.  Truth be told, you’d wanted him for longer but the hate you made yourself feel for him was an adequate distraction from it.
Biting your lip, you reach between you, taking his wet shaft in hand and positioning it at your entrance.  Your eyes meet as you begin to skink down on him, inching down in a shallow rocking motion with Dean stroking your hips and waist as you work at it.  He resists the urge to thrust up into you at first, allowing you to get accustomed to him.
When you bottom him out, he presses down on your hips firmly, lifting his just enough to give you a deep pleasurable pressure that has you groaning and your eyes rolling back.
You are tight despite being very wet, and the way you squeeze him has him twitching heavily against your walls.
“Fuck…”  he groans as you begin to move, leaning back slightly so he hits all the right spots inside you.
“I’m not going to last long,” you laugh breathily.
“No problem,” Dean says, his hands gripping your hips hard, helping you ride him a little faster now.  “We’ll get you for two.”
He doesn’t even have to reach down to stroke your clit, you come all by yourself, grinding on him with a sexy roll of your hips he knows should be good for you, your clit rubbing against his soft hair.  He can feel you spasming and clenching around him and it feels like heaven, even better than warm cherry pie hitting his taste buds.
“You feel freaking amazing.”  He growls, pulling you forward to suckle on the delicate skin of your neck.
“Right back at’cha,” you sigh against pleasure.
He rolls you to the side, and lays you on your back on the seat, still buried in you to the hilt.  Looking down at your heated face, your skin glowing from your orgasm, Dean thinks you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, with a possible exception of Baby.  Okay, you’re the most beautiful living thing he’s ever seen.
Looking up at Dean, his brow creased in concentration, his eyes dark with lust, you don’t think you have ever been turned on by anyone as much as this man.  Damn, he’s hot!  Riding the adrenaline of the chase, you had been desperate for an outlet.  Now that is out of your mind, you lose yourself in the man between your thighs, you’re focused solely on the feeling of him buried deep, and the rising tide of pleasure.  The windows steam up as you grind and roll your bodies together, and you think you might combust from the heat of him.
When he meets and holds your gaze, your heart almost stops.  There you see more than just lust, more than just the passion between you.  It’s deep and hidden, secret almost, and it surfaces as affection that softens his eyes.  You reach up to stroke his face as his grinding hips keep their measured pace and he leans into your touch, kissing the palm of your hand, closing his eyes with a tender sigh.
His vulnerability in that moment lances electricity to your core and you spasm powerfully around him.  His eyes flash open and he sees you’re close again but he doesn’t grin cockily like he might have done earlier, instead he leans down to kiss you, leaning his forehead on yours as you grip the back of his neck and look into his gorgeous eyes.  With your other hand on his hip, sliding round to his ass you guide the speed and depth of his thrusts and you roll your hips to meet his.
As you guide him to slow down he thinks he’ll lose the pleasure he’s cultivated so far but he can now feel more of you and it’s more intense because it’s slow and prolonged.  He almost laughs at how it changes everything and he gasps with surprise when he starts to feel his orgasm coming.  He knows he needs to pull out but you hold him on place with your hands and your heels.
“Give me everything,” you moan as you feel him swell.  “I need to feel you, nice and deep.”
Dean groans with pleasure watching your eyes sparkle with heat for him.
“I want it,” you almost beg.  “Want you.”
He nods, biting his lip as bends to your desire.
Spurred on by your permission, Dean thrusts deeper until he bottoms out, moaning your name as he comes deep inside you.  Your walls contract as he fills you, your climax a deep rolling pleasure that courses your whole body.  Everything feels so right, he feels right.  The way you two fit, the way he makes you feel.  It’s like a low-key destiny you’re more than willing to succumb to.
Dean doesn’t just pull out and get off you once you’re both done, he flips you so your lay on his chest.  There he holds you and strokes you back and hips, your hair and your face until you lift your head to look at him.  Then he smirks cockily and you swat his chest.
“You don’t have to look so smug about it,” you chastise him.
“Hey, I keep my promises,” he says with that trademark smirk playing on his plush lips.  “Would’a give you more but we’re kinda on the run here, sweetheart.”
“You can owe me, how ‘bout that?”  You push yourself up and try to find your clothes.
He grins at the confirmation that this isn’t just a one-time deal.  “Hell yeah!  Sign me up.”
You clean up with wipes from your travel bag as Dean calls Sam.  You watch the relieved interaction from the front fender of Baby while Dean paces in the dirt a few meters away.  You apply some flavoured lip balm to your kiss bruised lips as he works out the logistics of meeting up and what to do about Bartholomew.
After the call, Dean beelines straight for you, sliding his hands around your waist and burying his face in your neck, kissing playfully.
“I take it we’ve got a few hours at least until we can meet Sam and Cas.”  You thread your fingers through his messy hair, trailing your fingernails over his scalp which he seems to really like.
“Several.”  He says against your delicate skin.
“Whatever are we gonna do to pass the time?”  You smile as you picture the pair of you fucking all over his car.
“I can think of a few things,” he surfaces with a hungry look, leaning back in to kiss you.
Your soft lips claim his once more as you melt into his arms, the kiss heated and full of need.  Dean kisses you with such force it steals your breath and makes your knees weak, and when he pulls back he looks at you thoughtfully.  Licking his lips and tasting you on them, he grins.
“Cherry,” his eyes go to your lips again, “I like it.”
Dean’s talented tongue makes you forget any quip you might have said, as he lifts you onto Baby’s hood and keeps his promise.
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throneofsmut · 3 months
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BOUND IN FLAMES - Part 8
Eris Vanserra × Archeron-Sister- Reader
Description: Feyre and her younger sister go hunting in the forest behind their family's cottage and go through life changing experiences.
A / N: I’m back from the dead 🧍🏻‍♀️ lmao and this next part is straight up smut with the tiniest fucking grain of plot hidden in it. I swear it’s just fucking filthy, well at least to me it is but that might be because i haven’t written smut in a while but i hope you all enjoy. I mean it has to do with calanmai which is basically a faerie fuck fest. So if you guys are just as sick and depraved as I am you’ll eat this shit up. Also life has been life-ing recently but im hoping to be more active and if you guys have any requests don’t be shy SEND THEM. well anyways enjoy and happy reading !! 😚
“Eris, I swear to the Mother if you hurt her-“ Lucien snarled, baring his teeth, as he pushed the tip of his dagger deeper into Eris’s porcelain skin. A droplet of crimson red blood sliding down the column of his throat.
The sight of it had you moving on instinct.
In seconds you had moved away from the dagger Eris had pressed against your throat, disarming Lucien and pressing his own dagger against the sun tanned skin of his throat. Fae — mating — instincts coming to the surface, you growled and then whispered two words deathly soft into Lucien’s ear, “Watch It.” I pulled back, still keeping the blade against his throat and looked at him. His face had blanched and his eyes were wide with fear or shock, I wasn’t sure.
I blinked once and saw myself through his eyes and blinked again and I was looking at him through my own eyes again. His eyes were still wide, but now I knew it was mostly fear. He knew I wouldn’t actually kill him, though he knew I definitely could if I wanted to by the way I had the knife angled at his throat.
Lucien had finally realized it for the first time in that moment, that I wasn’t all talk, that I would and could kill. And I scoffed. Flipping the dagger in my hand so the handle was facing him, “Enjoy the Rite,” handing it back to him.
He took it and sheathed it.
Behind me Eris chuckled in amusement. Though not at his little brother but at my antics. Turning around to face him, I took one step towards him, but stopped. He had a look in his eyes as he took me in that I couldn’t describe, “What ?”
He shrugged, “Nothing,” but I noted the way his pupils dilated when his eyes met mine again. Then he held his out for me to take. A silent invitation.
Before I could even take a step Lucien’s hand was gripping my arm and a growl ripped its way out of Eris’s throat — possessive and protective. My eyes never left my mate, not even as he glared at his brother. Lucien sighed once he realized I wasn’t going to look at him, “I know I can’t stop you so… be careful, Y/n. He’s not safe.” But you didn’t want safe, you wanted him.
You still didn’t look at Lucien as you ripped your arm free of his hold, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Lucien. Enjoy the rite.” My voice sounding sharper than I intended, but this would likely be the only night I would have with Eris, my mate and we were wasting time.I made my way towards Eris and he was still glaring at his youngest brother when I finally stood before him.
He was the most beautiful male I had ever seen. Dressed in Autumn Court colors, his clothes — all dark wine red with gold threading, all finely made — cut close enough to his body that I could see how magnificent he was. Anyone with eyes could see that by the way they clung to his muscular body. Eris wasn’t bulky with muscles he was more so lean. His red shoulder length hair dancing in the night spring breeze like living flames. And his amber eyes seemed to be gifts from the sun as they both glowed the same shade of gold.
We were standing so close that I could feel the heat radiating off his body and his scent. His scent was intoxicating — cedar, citrus and crackling fires — invading all of my senses and before I could even stop myself I was in his arms. He was so tall that I had to stand on the tips of my toes to wrap my arms around his neck. Not even a second later I felt his arms immediately wrap around my waist, holding me to him.
One second we were standing in fields of the Spring Court, the next the world seemed to fold in on itself as we winnowed and now we were standing in a cabin. My body wanted to stay near him but the years of training that were drilled into me had me pulling away taking in my surroundings. Eris seemed to still as I looked around, “Where are we ?” I asked.
“My home away from home.”
I only nodded my head, letting him know I had heard him as I continued to look around. The cabin itself was beautiful; floor to ceiling mahogany and autumn court color and style furnishings. It was very much Eris. The small living room had the fire place going but I heard wood crackling from the back of the cabin. Tilting my head so I could look past my mates broad shoulders, what looked like a bedroom door was open and just past it in the room was a bookshelf. A well stocked bookshelf. Eris cleared his throat, voice tight, “Do you like it ?”
I looked at him and gave him a sweet smile, “I like it.”
He threw his head back and laughed and I realized I had never heard a sound so beautiful before. Eris was still laughing when he stepped closer to me, I didn’t back away this time, as he cupped my face in his large hands. Then he leaned down so close that if he spoke our lips would brush against each other… and he did. One word.
“Liar.”
He took a step back and it was my turn to laugh, “I’m not lying,” I said in between giggles.
“Alright, fine. You like it but…”
“But, my favorite color is blue and it’s just a lot of red, orange and yellow everywhere.”
He bowed deeply at the waist — mockingly — “I apologize, little flame, that our cabin is not up to your standards. I vow that the next time you see it will be to your liking.” Eris stood back up to his full height wearing a teasing smile on his face.
I wanted to roll my eyes at his antics and tell him to shut up, but instead I only asked, “Our ?”
“Our.” He affirmed.
I blinked at him, brows furrowed, “Why ?”
“What belongs to me, belongs to my mate. What’s mine is yours, little flame.” Eris said matter of factly.
“About that… how did you find out we were mates ?”
“You.”
“Me ?” He nodded his head, “Eris I need a little more than that.”
He took a step forward until he was right in front of me and I had to crane my neck back to meet his eyes. Then he lifted his right hand that was adorned in gold rings and tucked my hair behind my left ear. “Since last winter, when you made it over the wall, I’ve been dreaming of you every night. And every morning since then I’ve had the same nightmare.”
“What nightmare ?” My voice was barely more than a whisper.
“You’re not by my side when I wake up,” he breathed.
The way he was looking at me, like he was drinking in the fact that I was still here. That I was actually here and I realized I was doing the same thing.
I don’t know how much time passed before he spoke again, “How did you find out ?”
“The Suriel told me.”
His brows furrowed, “You ensnared a Suriel ?”
“No, he found me.”
This time his eyes narrowed and he blinked, “The Suriel found you and told you ?”
“Yes.”
“Why ?”
“They’re an old friend,” I shrugged.
Eris shook his head as he gave me a broad smile, “My mate is friends with one of the Suriel.”
I nodded my head, “Mhmm.”
“What did the Suriel tell you ?”
My eyes flickered between his amber eyes and then settled on the crackling fire beside us, “That like me my mate has fire in their blood and we would find each other on Calanmai. You’re heir to the Autumn Court. The both of us bound in flames. Bound to each other.” My eyes met gold ones again, “We have always been meant to burn together." I didn’t tell him that the Suriel also said I was heir to Spring. I couldn’t tell anyone, not yet.
“How did you know I was your mate and not Lucien ?”
“I felt a tugging in my gut — in my chest a couple times like there was a string inside of me and when I saw you it felt warm like it was glowing,” I smiled softly because that same feeling hadn’t gone away yet.
Eris’s eyes tracked my lips movements and I noted the way his pupils dilated and his the way his scent shifted. It was muskier and even though we weren’t in Spring anymore we could still hear, still feel, the pulsating drum beats.
His left hand that was also adorned with gold rings, cupped my face, his thumb swiping against my cheek as he uttered a single question, “Can I kiss you ?”
I felt my cheeks heat and only nodded my head in response not trusting my voice. His nostrils flared and I knew he scented my arousal.
“I need words, little flame. I want to hear it from your lips,” Eris commanded, his voice rough with lust.
“Yes, please.” My voice a breathy sensual whisper.
His large hands cupped my face and then he was surging forward, our mouths met with a desperate need, it was all teeth and tongue. He was savoring every brush of your tongue against his, every drag of your lips, eagerly exploring every part of you. You both knew what you wanted — needed — and were going to take it.
His hands moved from my face to roaming over my figure before settling on my ass making me moan into his mouth. I buried my hands in his hair, it was soft beneath my fingertips as I tugged and pulled on it. Making him groan into my mouth every time I did.
We both begrudgingly pulled away needing to catch our breaths. Eris’s eyes darkened as he took me in, “You are so beautiful,” he murmured panting softly.
I felt my cheeks redden at his words and shook my head, looking down at our feet.
His hands titled my head up, making me meet his eyes, “I’m serious, little flame, you’re beautiful. You are a goddess… My goddess.” You were going to brush him off but the sincerity in his eyes and voice made you believe it.
“Then prove it. Worship me, Eris,” my voice was breathy and raw with lust. We were both succumbing to the effects of the magic felt on Fire Night. The drumbeats were now pounding and pulsating rapidly and something shifted in both of us. You needed him and he needed you in any and every way you could have each other. Neither one of you knew who moved first, but the both of you began tearing at each others clothes, your mouths meeting again.
Once you were both bare before each other, you pulled away again drinking him. Your mate was beautiful, his body was powerfully built, corded in muscles as if the Mother herself carved him from marble just for you. His body was sparsely littered in scars, the pink raised skin stark in comparison to his porcelain skin and you had no doubt he’d had more on his back.
You were for once grateful that the blood spell your mother used on you covered your scars. You wouldn’t ask him about his scars, in a way they made him more beautiful to you, but mine were more brutal than anything.
Both of our chests heaving as we drank in the sight of each other. Breath hitching when I saw him, hard and at attention. He was long and thick, I knew it was going to hurt, but some fucked up part of me wanted it to. Wanted to feel every glorious inch and vein of him as he buried himself in your cunt. Licking my lips at the thought of him inside of me.
And he’s licking his lips when he sees your cunt glistening with arousal. The both of you make eye contact and I don’t know what he sees on my face, but the sight of it had him closing his eyes as a groan fell from his kiss swollen lips. Then he placed his hands on the back of your thighs, hoisting you up and carried you to the only bed in the cabin.
Eris kissed you again, like a starved man who couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. He pulled away only to start kissing and biting the tanned skin of your jaw, neck and chest. The only sounds coming from the both of you were lewd moans and groans as he laid you atop the soft bed.
Climbing on top of you, he trails his tongue down your neck, swirling it around your hardened nipples and between your breasts. Down your tummy and between your thighs. All while leaving kisses behind.
“Eris,” his name was a plea and prayer on my lips.
He moved to sit back on his haunches as his eyes rove over your body before settling on your soaked cunt, “Yes, little flame ?”
“I need you,” I whimper.
“Have you—“ he shudders as his jaw and hands clench and unclench. His eyes darkening with the promise of violence, “Have you ever been with—“
You don’t even let him finish the question, “No… just you.”
He visibly relaxes and smiles, “Gods, the Mother really made you just for me,” he says under his breath to himself. Amber eyes meet yours, “I’m going to be the first and only male to ruin you,” he promises.
“So what are you waiting for Eris, ruin me,” you tilt your head at him, your mouth curving into a teasing smirk.
Without another word he settles himself between your thighs and puts your legs over his shoulders. His large hands holding your thighs apart as he licked a single long broad stripe through your folds. Digging his fingers into your soft skin, groaning at the sweet taste of you on his tongue and your hands fist the sheets beneath you at the feeling.
Back arching off the bed as his tongue flicks your clit, “Oh… f— fuck Eris,” you cry out in pleasure. Then he circles and swirls his tongue before sucking on your sensitive bundle of nerves.
You start to squirm beneath him as he savors you, heat begins pooling in your lower tummy, but his large hands keep you spread and in place for him. Sucking in a sharp breath at the feeling of his tongue entering you, “Eris, Eris, Eris !” His name a prayer on your lips and he is your god.
Muscles tensing as his tongue leaves you feeling empty, but then he goes right back to sucking on your swollen clit. Your walls spasming and contracting on nothing as the heat in your belly turns to fire and spreads throughout your body. Time seems to stop as he begins to suck harshly, the sheets fisted in your hands ripping out of pleasure and then you shattered.
Your mates name on your lips as you fall apart.
Eris doesn’t give you to time to catch your breath as he moves to sit on his knees beside your still trembling body. One of his hands plays with your tits while he uses the other to run through your folds, gathering your arousal on his fingers, your hips jerking up in response.
Then he’s moving his hand that was playing with your tits, resting it atop your lower belly as he buries two slicked covered fingers into your cunt. Eris moves them in and out at a relentless pace fucking you with them, pushing down a bit applying pressure on your belly with his other hand, as he curls them inside of you. Hitting that sweet spot inside of you that has you crying out in pleasure.
“Eyes on me,” he orders.
Your nerves, your entire body feels like it’s on fire.
“Eyes on me or I stop.”
It takes everything in you to open your eyes, but you do. The sight of him nearly taking your breath away entirely. His red hair was mused, blown pupils with small rings of gold around them, his mouth and chin covered in your slick and a smug smirk on his lips.
“That’s it’s, little flame. Eyes on me,” he coos. Walls fluttering around his fingers at his words, his voice, him. The coil inside of me tightening, legs shaking and then the coil snapped.
You were a babbling incoherent mess as you squirted, soaking his fingers, your thighs and sheets beneath you. “Good fucking girl,” he praised, but he didn’t stop. I couldn't tell where one climax ended and the second began as continued thrusting his fingers in and out of me relentlessly. You didn’t know how many times he made you squirt before he stopped.
Your body was still shaking and your chest still heaving as he licked a long stripe from your sensitive cunt, making you whimper, up to your lips. Kissing you and then swiping his tongue along your bottom lip asking for permission, your tongue met his, making you moan as you tasted yourself on his tongue.
Eris pulled back smiling proudly at you before placing a soft gentle kiss on your forehead, “You did so good, little flame.” You looked at him with heavy lidded eyes. “Can you keep going or do you want to sleep ?”
I knew if I said I wanted to stop he would stop, but I also knew this might be only night I get to be with him and I wasn’t going to waste it. So I nodded my head.
He chuckled, “I need words,” he pushed my hair out of my face, “I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes,” I breathed, my voice raw and hoarse from all the pleasure.
Eris kissed me on the forehead again, praising me, “Atta girl.”
I was still panting softly when he rose from the bed and said he would be right back, he left the bedroom, coming back with two glasses of water in hand. “Drink up, sweetheart. We’re just getting started.” I didn’t even reach for the water as I stared at him, his cock, unabashedly. Eris was still hard as rock — just from looking at you. Since he saw you bare before him.
The sight of him, his tip red and angry had you running your tongue over your lips, hungry to feel him in your mouth. You didn’t say anything as you crawled to him, to where he was standing at the side of the bed and wrapped your hand around him.
He hissed when you pumped him a few times which only motivated you do more, so you could see how’d he react. But before you could, Eris stopped you pulling your hand away, “Drink,” he ordered.
Taking the glass of water from his hand you gulped it down greedily. You didn’t realize how thirsty you were until you were knocking back the glass. Practically chugging it as water trickled down from the corners of your mouth and down your neck. Eris only shook his head, chuckling, “Good ?” Taking both of your empty glasses and setting them on the nightstand.
I nod, giving him a shy smile, wiping the water off my chin with the back of my hand, “Good.”
His hand wraps around my neck, guiding me to where he wants before he leans down to kiss me hungrily. Then I’m wrapping my hand around his length, pumping and twisting slowly, his hips bucking in response to my touch.
The both of you pull away from the kiss and he groans as you grip him harder and pick up the pace. Letting out a shuddering exhale as you lay on your stomach infront of him, biting your lip, enjoying how your mate reacts to your touch. Stroking him a couple more times before licking a long broad stripe on the underside of length.
Eris lets out a lewd moan as I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock. His hands brushing my hair back as I lightly lap at his sensitive tip, savoring the taste of the salty bead of precum that was on it.
Kiss swollen lips part to take him, making me gag as his cock hits the back of my throat, “Oh fuck,” Eris rasps out. Hollowing my cheeks as I pull almost all the way back. Making eye contact as I swirl my tongue around his tip, working his long thick length with my hand, the other playing with his balls. “Mother’s tits,” he groans.
Lips wrapping around the head of his cock as I guide his hands to grip my hair. His amber eyes twinkle when he realizes what I want him to do, “Are you sure, little flame ? I won’t be gentle.” I hum a ‘yes’ to him as best I can with him in my mouth. The feral look in his eyes matches the smirk he wears and he doesn’t waste another second.
Not as he tightens the hold he has on my hair and mercilessly bucks his hips into my mouth. Eyes watering as I sputter around his cock, “That’s it… fucking take it like a good, little slut,” he growls.
Tears run down my cheeks and saliva runs down my chin as he fucks my mouth. My hips grind on nothing in response to the obscene noises he makes and the lewd sounds of him roughly bucking his hips into my warm mouth. Then he’s suddenly pulling me off of him and crashing his lips to my slick swollen ones. Before I can even catch my breath he’s swirling his tongue around mine.
He pulls away, both breathing heavily, he presses his forehead against mine. He chuckles, “You alright ?”
I nod my head, “Mhm.”
“Gods I wanted to finish in your mouth, but I’d rather finish in you,” He confesses.
“Please,” you breathe and he nods his head.
Then he’s moving, positioning you in the middle of bed and sliding a plush pillow beneath your head, as he sits on his knees between your thighs. He sighs contentedly, scanning you from head to toe, “Gods, my beautiful beautiful, mate.”
You sit up on your elbows, wrapping your right hand around his cock and stroke him, “My beautiful beautiful, mate,” you repeat back to him. The smile Eris gives you, gives you butterflies and then he’s leaning forward capturing your lips in a way you could only describe as loving.
His left hand cups the side of my face as he lays me back down, still kissing me and his large right hand covers the one I have wrapped around his cock. Then he’s rubbing the tip of it through my folds, hips jerking when it rubs over my clit as he swallows my moans.
Pulling back, pressing your forehead to his chest, “Eris… please…” you whimper.
“Please what, little flame,” he chuckles darkly and I don’t even have to look at him to know he’s smirking.
“Fuck me—“ My voice dies in my throat at the feeling of his cock pushing into me. My hands move to grip his bicep as I hiss out in pain, I know i’m wet enough but he’s just so big. Eris continues pushing in slowly, inch by inch, until he’s fully buried in my cunt.
My chest heaving at the lingering hint of pain, but he doesn’t move, letting me stretch and adjust to his size. He just places kisses all over my face as I adjust, “You’re doing so good,” he praises. “Take your time.”
We stay there not moving and he just continues to kiss me and talk me through it for a couple minutes longer.
Letting out a shaky breath, I utter one word, “Move.”
That’s all it takes for him to start slowly rolling his hips, my walls fluttering around him, making him groan. “Fuck,” he drawls out. Eris continues fucking into me with slow but precise rolls of his hips, but he’s starting to tremble with restraint from holding himself back. Not wanting to hurt his sweet little mate.
But any hint of lingering pain is long gone and I want — need — him to ruin me. “Eris ?”
“Yes ?” He grits out.
“I need you harder… faster,” I murmur against his skin.
His hips still for a second, then he’s throwing my legs over his broad shoulders, hips snapping against the back of my thighs and ass as he fucks into me at an impossibly fast pace. This new position making me cry out as his tip repeatedly hits my sweet spot, “Ohh f-fuck Eris !”
“Gods… you take me well,” he says between pants, “You were made for me, little flame.” Then he sets your legs back down and puts his hands down on the bed, beside your tits as he deeply thrusts into you, causing you to throw your head back into the pillow. Screwing your eyes shut and screaming his name out while my nails scratch his back.
He lets out a hiss that has me opening my eyes, scanning his face, I open my mouth to ask if I hurt him. But he quickly shakes his head ‘no,’ “I — I just feel you, little flame.” He reassures me, shifting his hips at another angle, hitting spots he hadn’t hit before.
“Fuuuck, Eris.” I cry out, my hands finding his back again, scratching.
"Look at you," he murmured as he moved inside me.
I manage to rise up enough to see where we were joined — to see his cock pulling almost all the way out before disappearing back into my body. And the sight of it wrecked me so thoroughly that it pushed me right over the edge. My mates name on my lips as I fell as he worked me through my orgasm.
We stay like that for a little while longer — him rutting into me — then he’s flipping us around so I’m on top. He doesn’t even move yet and my body shudders, the fit so much deeper in this position.
I press my hand against my lower belly and gasp, his cock twitching inside of me. He has a smug smirk on his face, “See, you were made for me. We’re a perfect fit.”
I lean down to kiss him, and then whisper in his ear, “I want to make you feel good. Let me make you feel good.”
Eris sucks in sharp breath and now it’s his turn to beg, “Please, little flame.” So I sat up, hands braced on his broad chest, and rode him.
Eris howled my name — thrusting his hips up to meet mine — like the devotee of a god. My tits bouncing wildly in his face as I rode him, faster, harder. His fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips, no doubt leaving bruises behind in their wake. “Touch me…” I breath, my voice dripping sin.
Grinding my hips down on him as he moved his hands to grope my tits, pinching and pulling my nipples. His touch making goosebumps appear and spread all over my body. Breath hitching every time my swollen clit rubbed against the muscle of his abs. His own pleasure making his abs twitch only adding to my own pleasure. Causing heat to build in my belly from the friction.
I braced my hands on his chest again, slamming my ass against his hips, drowning out the drumbeats that still sounded outside for Calanmai. The only thing I could hear was the sound of skin slapping skin and our sounds of pleasure.
Then he pulled me against him so we were chest to chest, wrapping his arms around my back, jackknifing up into me relentlessly. “Be a good little mate and fucking take it,” he grits out. The fire in my belly turning to molten lava. My hands fisting the sheets at his sides before biting into his shoulder.
It looked like they were glowing with starlight, or maybe my own vision fractured as release barreled into me again like a lightning strike.
And Eris found his, gasping my name over and over as he grinded my hips onto his with a bruising grip. His cock twitching as he spilled himself in me. My walls spasming and contracting around him, milking every last drop of his cum, as he held me there on him until he was well and truly empty.
When we were done, I remained atop him with him still inside of me and he still had a hand on my hip, while the other played with my hair.
For other parts: Bound In Flames Series Masterlist
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 9 part 10
part 11
Taglist: @historygeekqueen @cat-or-kitten @yeeyeebabe @khaleesihavilliard @impossibelle @sleepylunarwolf @cutie232 @meepmeep-318 @belledawnidk @fandomrejects @wasntpriscilla @brandywineeeee @consultinghuntresshasthetardis @thescooby-gang @annblvd @poetryinshadows @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @esposadomd @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @glaciuswduo @laceandsuch
*If you would like to be added to the taglist for this story or to my general taglist, please either reply to this post or send me a message.
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lucysgraybird · 2 months
Note
Erm i js read ur pregnancy fic, is it possible for u to write an alternative version yk a happy one ??? 😭 it was rlly good tho but that hurttt
YES babe ofc im so sorry 🙏 i saw angst and it got away from me. sorry for losing my head. here is an alternate ending to this fic
warnings: labour/childbirth, blood mention, deeply unrealistic (should've put this on the other one too! i am an 18 year old virgin i know where babies come from and that's it)
The night the baby comes is dark and peaceful: there hasn't been more than a soft fall of rain in weeks, and the spring has brought balmy evenings that have made chores almost a gift to do.
Even more of a blessing is the time after chores, curled up on the porch under Billy’s arm. He's twisting the ends of your hair around his fingers absently, and you twist to look up at his face.
“What's on your mind, honey?”
“Hm?”
“I can hear your thoughts from here, Billy. Are you worrying about something?”
He tucks his chin over your head and you hum contentedly at being wrapped up in him, safe and warm.
“Just thinkin’ about the baby is all,” he says. “What we're gonna name her and that stuff.”
You laugh. “I bet it'll come to us in the moment. We don't even know if the baby’s a girl.”
“I do.” He slides his arm off your shoulder to your waist, placing his hand flat against your rounded belly. “Gonna be the best little girl, and she's gonna look just like her mama.”
"Mm...with your eyes, if we're lucky."
You crane your neck to peck Billy on the lips, coaxing a smile from your husband. Out of nowhere, a cramp twists through your lower back and you cover Billy’s hand with yours, wincing. He shifts you off his chest slightly to look at you.
“You okay?”
The pain passes and you can breathe again – it's not something you've felt before, but you know things get weirder the bigger the baby gets.
“Fine, yeah. I think she was moving around or something.”
Billy gives your stomach a firm look, which coaxes a laugh out of you and chases away your nerves.
“‘s not the baby’s fault, honey,” you say. “She's just getting comfy.”
“You're sure you're alright?” He confirms. “I can ride into town and-”
“I'm good. You don't need to worry, okay?”
He nods and pulls you back against him, his body a shelter from any worries.
As the night creeps on, there are a few more cramps but nothing notable, and you're able to fall asleep almost immediately when the time comes.
That is, until the middle of the night, when you wake up with your entire core on fire.
“Billy,” you whimper, grabbing for his arm.
He groans, still mostly asleep.
“The baby’s coming, Billy, you gotta-” You pause, a bolt of pain too great to speak through wracking your body for a moment. “You gotta go get the doctor.”
That wakes him immediately, and he's rolling out of bed before his eyes are even completely open. He takes in your face, screwed tight and shiny with sweat, and he's trying to get ready and comfort you at the same time.
“It's okay, darlin’, you're gonna be okay,” he says, not even bothering to take off his pajamas before tugging his work clothes over them and shoving his feet into his boots. “I’m gonna get the midwife and she'll take care of you.”
For all his confident words, his voice trembles and breaks at the end of his sentence from seeing you in this much hurt, which sends tears spilling down your cheeks. Billy scrambles for the door, then back to you to press a kiss to your forehead and a hand to your cheek.
“Gonna be fine, darlin'. I'll be back as quick as I can.”
You don't even have time to reply before he's out the door and gone.
The pain only increases while he's gone, time going hazy and strange. You can't figure out how long ago Billy left, or how long it should be until he's back – you can't really think of much besides the ache throbbing from your pelvis to your chest. Noises that don't sound like your own are tearing themselves from your throat as you writhe in bed, trying to find anything that'll ease the pain.
Soon (or maybe not soon at all, you can't say), Billy is bursting back into your room, the midwife hot on his tail. She takes one look at you and turns to Billy.
“I need boiling water and strips of cloth.”
Billy nods wordlessly and disappears out to the kitchen. You didn't realize how desperate you were for him until he was gone, and a new bout of sobs streak down your face.
“Oh, lovey,” the midwife says as she strips back your covers. “Your boy will be back soon, he's just helping me keep you safe while you're in labour. Can you tell me how far you are along?”
She tugs your nightgown up around your hips, and you're in too much pain to feel any shame.
“Baby’s right on time,” you groan. “Just about nine months.”
Your body bows forward with another stab just as Billy walks through the door with a steaming pot of water and strips of a clean sheet, and he nearly drops everything in his haste to get to you. Once he's sure that the midwife has what she needs, he's settling next to you, offering a hand to squeeze and a shoulder to lean on.
“You may want to step out, Mr. Bonney, this-”
“I'm stayin’,” he says, surely putting on a brave face when you grip his hand like a vice. To you, he soothes, “Hold on as hard as you need, darlin’, you're not gonna hurt me.”
“Okay then,” the midwife says. “Get ready to push, lovey, this baby is just about to come out.”
You don't even have to think when the time comes, a baser instinct taking over for you. It hurts like nothing has before and a wail chokes out of your mouth. Billy is still holding you, whispering sweet nothings that you can't quite hear against your temple. His lips are dry on the skin there, and it's grounding in the sea of sticky and hot that you're swimming in.
Suddenly, the pressure in your pelvis changes, but the pain doesn't. Everything is so wet. What is that?
“I'm going to insist you step back now, Mr. Bonney,” the midwife says.
You look up at your husband, whose skin is ash-white against his dark hair.
“Billy…?”
"You're okay, darlin', I'm just gonna let the midwife take care of you." His voice is shaking in a way that makes you nauseated, and the world is swimming around you on top of that.
He goes to step away, just as the midwife requested, and heartbreak rips across his face when you reach out for him. Then there's another gush of wetness and a dizzying wash of pain: the last thing you see before you pass out is the form of a baby in Billy’s arms and the most genuine fear you've ever seen on his face.
When you wake, it's just Billy in the room, cradling a bundle of blankets in a chair he's dragged to the bedside. He's up as soon as you wake, trying to smooth a hand over your head and hold the baby properly at the same time.
“Hey, darlin’, how are you feeling?”
You try to sit up and immediately throw in the towel, groaning. “Tired. And sore. Is the baby okay? What happened?”
“Baby’s just fine,” he says, tilting the bundle to show you a wrinkled, sleeping little face. “The midwife says she's the healthiest baby she's seen in a while.”
A soft smile blooms on your face. There's a relief warming you from the inside-out that you've never felt before.
“You were right about the baby being a girl, then.”
“Mhm.” There's a teasing pride in his hum, and you use a little of your waning energy to nudge his shoulder with your head. “I haven't thought of a name yet, though.”
“Can I hold her?”
Billy hands her to you wordlessly, helping you settle your arms around her.
“She's so small.”
“And she's already caused a lot of trouble for her mama,” Billy says.
He's joking, but when you look up at him, there are tears in his eyes.
“Honey, are you-”
“I'm okay, I'm okay. It was just a lot of blood, and I didn't know what was goin’ on. I thought you…”
The sentence ends there, but you know where he was going, and you lean into him.
“Can't get rid of me that easy, cowboy. We got a little girl to raise.”
The baby stirs a little in your arms, then settles back into a deep sleep. You watch her thoughtfully.
“Billy,” you say.
“Yes, darlin’?”
“How would you feel about naming her Kathleen? After your mother?”
There's dead silence for a moment before Billy presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“I think that's perfect,” he whispers, not trusting his voice to go any louder without breaking. “If that's what you want.”
“It is. Welcome to the world, Kathleen Bonney,” you say, and Billy wraps an arm around you. It is a perfect tableau: mother, father, and baby, and all the love there is in the world.
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kazutora-kurokawa · 3 months
Note
So im very Afraid of needles and I have a doctor appointment to get a shot and I just need comfort sooooooo
Souya, taiju, draken x reader who's Afraid of needles and they go with her to a doctor appointment and comfort her during every and just hold her as she cries by the shot 🥺
TokRev x Scared!Reader
♡ SFW, fluff, fem reader, comfort, mentions of needles, Taiju stressing reader out ♡
Characters: Souya, Taiju, Draken
note: Thank you for the request anon 🩷 and good luck at your doctor's appointment!
❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀
Souya
💠 Understands your fear, sharp things are pretty scary, especially when they're going in your body
💠 Offers as much support as he possibly can
💠 Ends up being more stressed out than you even though he's not even the one getting a shot
"Souya can you please stop pacing back and forth? You're making me more nervous than I already am!"
"I'm sorry baby, I'm just so nervous for you. I don't wanna see you hurt!"
💠 Gets scared when the doctor comes in the room and grabs the syringe from the medical cabinet
💠 Holds your hand while you get the shot and you squeeze his hand so hard it almost breaks
💠 Wipes your tears and kisses you all over your face
"It's over now baby, you're fine, okay?"
Taiju
🦈 Doesn't understand your fear of needles, but goes to the appointment with you anyway
🦈 Tries to calm you down while you're waiting for the doctor but ends up making you more paranoid
"Calm down, you'll be fine! The worst that could happen is that the needle breaks off in your arm, and that's highly unlikely."
"You're making things worse Tai, please shut up."
"Sorry, my bad. Are you really that scared of needles?"
"Yes! Terrified actually."
"Aww it's okay princess, I'll keep you safe."
🦈 Holds you the entire time, rubbing your back and reassuring you that you'll be fine
🦈 When he sees you start crying he almost threatens to beat up the doctor for hurting you
🦈 Wipes your tears away and praises you endlessly
"See it wasn't that bad was it? You did such a good job princess."
Draken
🐉 Knows that you had an appointment and cleared his schedule just for you
🐉 Wants to be by your side the entire time to comfort you
🐉 Tries to calm you down by distracting you with stories
"He lit the car on fire?!"
"I swear he did! Then the dumbass almost set himself on fire!"
"How did he almost set himself on fire?"
"He's an illiterate dumbass, what do you expect?"
🐉 You don't even realize the doctor walked in the room until they stick the needle in your arm
🐉 Draken rubs your back and kisses you on your head the whole time
"You're doing so good babydoll. It's almost over, okay?"
❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀
Tagging @arlerts-angel and @i-literally-cant-with-this
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touyazbbygirl · 6 days
Text
A whisper in the wind.
God I have my father's eyes.
Dabi (touya) x Reader part 2
Angst no comfort. A/N: how I think the last conversation he would have with his partner before confronting everyone not proof read at all either. I was crying through this. He always hurts my feeling when I think about him. He deserved so much better I <3 him
**WILL HAVE SPOILERS READ AT YOUR DIGRESSION.**
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Eyes widened seeing Dabi, your boyfriend on the tv. Hearing his voice echo in the room hearing him telling the whole nation who he was. Finding out in real time as everyone else. What a secret he kept. 
Hearing his combat boots thunk against the concrete as he stepped inside. You head whipped to the door. Standing up as your fingers danced across the controller to shut off the tv. Coming up to him he looked down at you, his hair different, his scaring spreading more. 
You knew what he was doing to himself. You knew how this was going to end. Tears pricked the back of your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his waist. Fingers digging into the leather of his jacket, the warmth of his body filled yours. 
"you kept this.. from me.. why?" You peered up at him with a teary expression tilting your head in curiosity. Dabi sighed softly before pulling you closer to his chest, resting his chin upon you head, "I just wanted to keep you safe, keep you away from my past. I didn't want you to think of me differently or try to save me from the past or try to get me to make up with them" 
Hearing his reasoning didn't make it any better, just confirming what his plans were. Taking in a shaky breath as you nod, biting your lip as closed your eyes to keep the tears at bay. "I.. I get that Dabi. I do, but.. I don't want you to die" the words fell from your lips, faster than you could catch them. The air hung heavily on his shoulders. 
His hand came to cup your cheek as he took a deep inhale, feeling you lean into his touch, his expression mirrored your own. "I know." He spoke gently. "I just want him to see me. I want him to watch me. The look on his face, to see him fall apart-" he was cut off by a sob feeling your shoulders shake "you're falling apart. look at you, you're falling apart right in front of me and there's nothing I can do! don't.. don't you dare Touya" You used his given name, something in him broke. 
Red built along his lash line as you reached up to cup his cheek. “Dont you see youre hurting yourself? You dont hate them, I dont think thats the case at all Touya. I really dont. I think youre hurting because you were promised so much. You were promised to be a hero and you got casted aside because of your baby brother.” Touya couldnt help but to think back on his past. How his father got mad at him begging him to stop using his fire as his body couldnt keep up with the usage of it. It was burning him alive. He knew that. “I dont.. Want to watch you just die on me. Please.. I cant fix your past. It will never change your past, I know that. I love you, Im watching you, Im seeing you, my eyes are always on you Touya.” You whispered softly. 
Touya felt his breath hitch as he pulled you into his chest once more, feeling his frame shake in your arms. Why did it take this long for him to have been seen? If it was this easy, why did it take so long? “I cant.. heal you. I cant take away your pain or suffering. I dont want it to be too late and I never get to hear your voice call my name again, or feel your warmth wrapped aroun me when I need you the most. When Im scared and youre trying to keep me calm and collected. When Ive had a nightmare and you whisper how Im safe and loved. I cant do this without you Touya. I love you as you are, not who you were.”  Your own voice was filled with emotions, watery and wavering.  
“I know I know I love you. So much. Always remember that. Never forget it.” His voice light as a feather a whisper in the wind. 
Sometime after this conversation you sat in the same spot on the couch, watching as everything began to fold. Hearing the pain in his voice as he confronted his baby brother; Shoto. They were watching. We were all watching. Panic raising in your chest as you watched, there he was, everyone was watching him. All eyes on him, His family eyes were on him. His body giving out on him as each minute passed. Knees buckling under you seeing him on the ground, burnt, having lost an arm. Sobs wreaked your body, gripping, clutching onto his jacket that he left to you. You should've known then that was the last time you would see him.
And all you had left was a whisper in the wind. A faint sound of your name, carrying his voice to you one last time.
------
Another a.n: Im sobbing, I'm sorry for hurting your feeling.
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bluxb3rry · 4 months
Text
❝𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞!❞↳෴੭˚ ༘♡·˚₊˚ˑ༄ؘ 💜
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Medusa AU! Lee Minho x Blind! male reader! he/him pronouns! English is not my first language! hehe angst and fluff Also, HAPPY NEW YEAR [Not yet but you know] would you like to see me as another fruit or blueberry forever?
── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────
Lee minho was a handsome man, everytime he walked he made at least made one person fall in love at frist sight. He didn't care, he just wanted to be with his cats in his lovely home, him and his toughts.
In some way, he didn't liked being like this, people only looking at him with lust in their eyes, talking to him with only one thougt in their head. He wished that someone could touch his hair, his lips, his neck, his body, with pure love, and the soft words "i love you" being murmured in his ear. That someone could kiss him with passion and that could build a fire inside him.
He oh so wanted to be loved, that he believed in the men that told him those words, he ignored everything because he was told "i love you" he ignored the warnings in his head and kissed him with passion, feeling loved.
But love isn't real, it's fake, and he learned that with pain, he was punished. He didn't know why, he was loved, he felt safe in that man arms, but he heard an angry scream before that his body changed.
Lee minho was a handsome man, so as a punishment, he was made to a monster. He didn't really looked like one, the snakes that were his new hair didn't damage anything, he would look like a beautiful creature, but, everyone that looked at him would became stone. That made him a monster.
People wanted to kill him, people wanted to take his head as a trophy, but that wasn't even close to what he felt, he felt betrayed because of love. Because of love, he lost his life.
He wished that someone would look at him and tell him "you're still handsome" "you're still are perfect" please, stop calling him a monster, please let him leave that cage of rocks inside a muntain, where only the planst and the rocks can hear his screams and tears. Ignoring the beautiful flowers that grow from the grass, ignoring those snakes that oh tried so hard to help him.
Please someone tell him, tell him that you love him.
-hello?-
Huh, a voice?
-Hello? Is anybody here? im lost!-the voice started to be more close
-a human?-he whispered, a snake answering him with a hiss
He started to get up from the rock, his snake like body transferring him. He looked behind one of the rocks, the human was walking quite dumb in his opinion, he would step on some rocks and hiss, still looking anywhere confused as ever.
-Hello?-the man said again, until he crashed into a big rock and fell to the floor.
-you are one silly human-minho finally talked, getting close to him.
There were a lot of statues around him, men that tried to kill him, men tried to hide but failed. Yet, this guy decided to just walk like nothing, and even ask for help, his help.
-Hello? Who are you?-the men asked looking at him.
Minho was suprised when the men looked but didn't became stone.
-my question is, who are you? i want to know the stupid men that came here-minho talked with a hint of anger in his voice
-oh, um, im sorry mister, im Y/N, as you can see im blind and i don't know how i got lost and, well, here i am-Y/N said with a small smile, his cheeks becoming quite red
-huh, that makes sense-minho walked far away, slapping his snake tail to the mens face-that explains why you aren't stone right now
-stone?-Y/N looked at bit more suprise now-so, you are the snake man that the town talks about-
-something like that, and you don't look so afraid-minho said while playing with one of his snakes.
-well, if you were a really monster, you would have killed me by now, yet you didn't-Y/N said with a smile in his face, looking where he was hoping the men was.
-you are lost, where did you wanted to go anyways that you ended here?-minho sat, kinda, in front of him.
-i was following some people, they said that they were going to look for food but never came back-he laughed a bit-i think they didn't wanted me in the group anymore
Minho just looked at him, not saying a word.
-Lee minho-
-huh?-
-Lee minho, thats my name-
── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────
Minho showed him the town, hiding behind some trees, far away from his cave, yet, Y/N followed him back. He heard him quite easly, since he crashed again into some trees.
"why are you still here" he asked
"well, you didn't pushed me away" Y/N answered
So, time passed, and here they are, beside the small lake that was in the cave. Minho looking at Y/n making some crown flowers with the few that grow there.
-you know how to make those, you look like a professional-he said getting closer to him
-yeah, well my mom used to teach me, it was hard since i only could use my hands but, i learned and i made a lot of them for her and for me-Y/N said finally finishing the two crown flowers, putting one in his own head
-and your father?-minho asked, fixing a bit of the flower crown in Y/N's head
-he, was never there, i didn't mind, i didn't met him but i wish i could hugged him at least one time-Y/N's voice was a bit sad
-men are like that, some of us don't deserve that, i was once a handsome man, but, someone betrayed me-minho said, anger being obvious in his voice
-was?-Y/N asked
-well, if you could see me right now, you would see a monster-
Y/N raised his hands a bit, withouth warning he started to touch Minho face. Minho was suprised but he stay still, now knowing what the other one was doing.
Then he felt his fingers in his lips, touching his cheecks, softly touching his nose and even touched some of the snakes. Y/N touched his neck a bit, then rested his hands in his shoulders, Y/N smiled.
-i think your handsome and kind, if you weren't like that, i would have been dead by now but you helped me and even let me live here-Y/N said-though i do feel sad that i can't see you, dying by seeing you must be a beautiful way to die.
Minho felt tairs falling from his cheecks, oh he waited so long for those words to be said, even before that he became like that. Someone has finally treated him with kind and love, told him how he was.
His heart felt like fire, he didn't know when but he kissed him, he kissed him with passion and you accepted that. The two men in that room knew so little abouth the other, but they felt safe in each others arms.
When they separated, they hugged, Minho face being in withing the shoulder and neck of Y/N.
-i... i think i love you-minho whispered
-i love you too-
Minho felt happy, and with his snakes looking at him and at his new lover, he didn't care, he wasn't a monster.
── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────
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devourable · 11 months
Text
☹ the alt kids
sfw | tags : poly!nb!yans x gn reader (only prn used for reader is ‘you’), obsessive thoughts, slight manipulation, mentions of drinking
listen,,, i know melchior / nb demon yan beat these three in the poll but im itching to write about them. this goes out to my friend who wants to get piped by faust + lolita anon. love yall mmmmwah
also for reference, faust is they/he, delta is they/them, and anton is he/she/they !
please rb to support me 🫶
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the alt kids were notorious for seeking out club newbies to play with. it was just something they did.
there was just something so adorable about the way someone totally out of their element dipping their toes into their scene! and the three had made it clear that fresh meat was off limits to anyone but them.
it was a simple cycle — someone new would enter the club, they'd swoop in and show them a good time, take them home at the end of the night if they're lucky, and repeat.
they thought it'd be no different when you came along, but...
oh, how wrong they were.
see, faust could practically feel the inexperience dripping off of you the moment you entered the nightclub.
all on your own, your eyes wide as you took in the flashing lights and loud music, the way you cautiously stepped around the sea of dancing bodies in attempt to find some place you could fit in comfortably? definitely another cute little freshie that'd soon join their ranks.
but faust didn't account for the zip of heat that ran through his body when you and him locked eyes from across the club. he didn't expect the unfamiliar feeling of his heart racing, a feeling only comparable to how he felt when he saw his partners — but why was it so much stronger? and when you offered up a shy little smile and averted your gaze, it damn near knocked him back.
who were you?
they had no clue, but they knew one thing. they needed to leave this club with you at the end of the night.
so faust all but ran to your side, appearing by you before you had even noticed their approach. god, you were even cuter up close... the way you looked up at them made their heart want to leap from their chest!
but they kept their cool. faust introduced themself, commenting on how they noticed you from across the bar and how they couldn't just let a sightly little thing like you venture around all on your own. the club could be so intimidating for newcomers — dangerous, even! but you didn't have a thing to worry about with them by your side.
they loved how demure you were, how you held your heating face when he complimented you, how you tried to wave off their advances but seemed to enjoy it just a bit too much to wave them off. were you intimidated by them? or… did you like them back? they wish they knew!
so you joined them, and accompanied them to the bar.
it was there you met one of their partners — a startlingly tall, reserved goth. you saw him well before you even got to the bar! between the major size difference, her icy gaze, and seemingly disinterested demeanor, it was safe to say you were intimidated. so you were incredibly surprised when faust strutted right up to them, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and waved you over to meet her. and it surprised you even further when they took one of your hands in theirs, pressed a kiss to your knuckles, and introduced themself after studying you silently.
unbeknownst to you and faust, anton was feeling that same intense fire in his chest that faust got when they first looked at you. he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over your attire as you gave your name in turn.
you were so small compared to him. as was most other people, but… it was strangely endearing when he looked down at you. it’d be so easy to just scoop you up, wouldn’t it? and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. he kept those thoughts to himself, but they flickered across his mind every time you came enough for him to take in the difference in your sizes.
the pair bought you drinks, got you a nice seat and showered you in attention. chatting you up, complimenting you, practically treating you like you were part of their polycule already. though they never mentioned it, faust and anton knew they had the same feelings towards you. the intense desire to just… have you. and not just for the night, either. you were so much more than all of their previous flings.
then delta came along. petite, sly delta who liked to play coy when it came to those they were interested in. they had pretended to be too busy dancing the entire time before joining their partners and you at the bar, but they were watching. and after witnessing how their boyfriends were all over you for so long, they had to join in. what were you doing to them?
they walked up to the three of you, pointedly looked you up and down, and… they understood in an instant. man, you were a looker! and even sweeter than the usual folk the three would usually play around with. they easily invited themself to the conversation, taking a seat right on faust’s lap and stuck up a chat with you as if they had been there the entire time.
they loved how flustered you were, so overwhelmed by all the attention the three were now pouring onto you. and despite your overstimulation, you were trying so hard to talk to them all anyway. you clearly had no clue what to do, poor thing… they had no choice but to take the lead for you!
“wanna dance? ..no? that’s fine~ let’s get another drink!”
“it’s so loud in here. let’s go somewhere quieter, yeah? i wanna hear that pretty voice more clearly.”
“aww, you wanna leave? you can sober up at our place! it’d be dumb if you got a ticket you could’a avoided.”
“you’ll stay the night with us, won’t you, darling? we’d hate for you to leave us so soon.”
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banamine-bananime · 26 days
Text
AITA for trying to save my friend and keep the rest of my asshole friends safe from their bad decisions?
I (M26) just went through this real shitty breakup. So basically, my ex C (M lmao man fuck if i know his age idek if knows it. or has one i guess) has this god-fucking-awful habit of deciding to solve every problem by dying about it and/or fucking off without so much as a word to the people unfortunate enough to give a shit about him, except maybe his sister (unhelpful for the rest of us because she also inherited the "fucking off without a word" gene. man fuck this whole family for making me care about them. whatever). Also, killing himself inside peoples brains thats like a whole hobby for him. like okay either ghost us OR kill yourself in front of us altering the trajectory of our lives forever PICK ONE like a NORMAL person.
Okay wait im not explaining this well. So years ago C and W (M37 now) were partners but C was, uh, in a really bad place mentally (S is telling me this is more diplomatic to say than "crazy af") and that situationship ended as badly as a situationship can end. I mean W's told me he pretty much had his sense of identity as someone separate from C totally destroyed by that for a while, which like, in hindsight its kinda an accidental dick move that our team made him take C's legal identity, but in our defense a) the fuck were we supposed to know?, b) tbf he really did need it not to go back to prison, c) it's not like C was using his identity, on account of the fucking off and effectively-dying-as-a-solution habits, and d) i mean. i gotta admit it's also pretty funny in a really fucked way.
aw shit derailed on a tangent again
recently its just like, we just get so focused on one thing its hard to remember anything else, you know?
S is so good at getting us back on track though. thank god because you would not believe the number of irons weve got in the fire to keep track of, its ridiculous. (i love making my partner be the planner in the relationship lol. highly recommend being a passenger princess in the body sometimes. fuck massages, i'm telling you THIS is what you need after a long day getting shit DONE and taking care of everyone else's messes)
So I met C 6 years ago, right out of basic, when we were privates stationed at the same base. middle of nowhere. shit, this is gonna be hard to explain, just realized i should use different names for C to keep them straight. I knew "A" and W knew "E", i didnt meet E until years later. theyre alters and also the same guy but also not the same guy. dont worry about it if you dont get it bc ive dated both of them and i dont think i do. my life is stupid.
Bunch of bullshit happened, A ghosted (lol. you'd be high-fiving me if you knew him) and then found a problem to solve by dying. you get it by now.
Then i meet E, E encounters a problem and tries to die about it round one (i guess round two, after exploding in W <- LOL. you should be high-fiving me right now), E's sister drags him back to the land of the living, E ghosts, W and i start dating, W tries to martyr himself and disappears because i guess E rubbed off on him (dude i am on a fucking roll. you should be high-fiving me out of pity for my glamorously miserable soap-opera life if nothing else. homophobic not to), our team gets W back, E strolls back like he has no idea why im mad at him, we fight about it, makeup-makeouts about it, and E tries to die about it round two: in my brain boogaloo.
So thats how S and i meet. oops, guess i never introduced S? Feels weird to have to introduce ourself twice, people dont really meet us separately anymore LOL. S (M, ageless) is also C's alter, my partner in life and badassery and brain and body. and obviously freaky sex stuff, that goes without saying but i'm saying it anyway to brag. the swish swish to my stabbing people who really deserve it. Not really interested in your opinion on our relationship, it's not what i'm asking about. we're aware its not conventional, because we're not fucking braindead. Im so sick of all the "oooohhhhh this isn't healthy", "he's a male manipulator and youre codependent i know bc i learned psychology from tiktoks by girls with green hair", "why are you wearing your ex-boyfriend's armor colors while wearing his dead ex-boyfriend's armor while dating and sharing a brain with your dead mutual ex's alter", "have you considered going to therapy instead of a quest against death itself" blah blah blah. If youre so bored you need to judge our life then just get your own 🙄🙄🙄
we've been really on that sigma grindset the last few weeks. S has got our sleep optimized down to a tight triphasic 3.46 hours and we're minmaxing the fuck out of the rest of every day. Biohacked to shit over here. too much to do, so we have to make there be enough of our time to do it. who else is gonna? my teammates? the REDS? we're half batman half babysitter to a gaggle of idiots who can barely be trusted to wipe their own asses, let alone fight their own battles and make decisions like "wah wah wah A is dead let's just give up and cry about it or whatever".
Don't even get me started on W. Oh youre all about character-building wake up and grind self-improvement and taking leadership until we're making decisions you dont like, i guess. WHATEVER. this is why we dont listen to you.
its hard, okay. like, you cant understand the sheer fucking stress were under trying to keep all our plans going smoothly while keeping these guys safe while they're basically actively trying to unravel every carefully-laid thread and also strangle themselves in them. im probably going prematurely grey and also losing some time. its hard to remember when we need to hold back and use the kiddy gloves. i really didnt want to come to holding - uh, we'll call him MC (M25) - by the throat, passed-out. he's like a brother to me, been through thick and fucking thin together, so yeah, i feel really bad about that, my bad, we were the asshole there, but like, maybe stop throwing yourself in the way? like run out into the road you're gonna get hit by a truck no matter how hard they slam the brakes. mfw the conses quence. but im NOT asking about that. everyone's been on our dick about "please god stop doing all of this" and abandoning A and trying to break us up way before that, and THAT'S what im asking about
Anyways tl;dr are we the asshole for getting shit done when it takes methods that all our monday morning quarterback friends dont like
_____
OP has offered the following explanation for why they think they might be the asshole:
it really was a dick move to dangle my teammate's limp body in a chokehold even though it was basically an accident and also not even directly relevant to the question
OP has offered the following explanation for why they think they might not be the asshole:
okay but we're right
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rosevette · 1 month
Text
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·.༄࿔ TAKE ME TO PARIS part 2. my mlist
𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒌 & 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
💋ྀིྀི résumé : the gifts won’t stop, along with john’s paranoia. he won’t even let you out of the hotel.
1.6k words + tags : dumb, ‘naive’ !reader, manipulation, fantasizing, smut, age gap, pet names, fingering, slight non-con, evil intent, brat-taming⭑
୭ৎ … im so sorry yall had to wait so long for this, but im finally finished !! more chapters to come, and I hope you enjoy…if there are any error, ignore! (part 1 here) - sincerely, rose
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DAYS PASSED, and John's concern only seemed to intensify. He hovered nearby constantly, his watchful gaze never leaving your side, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. The gifts from Marquis didn’t stop either, a jewelry a day.
At first, you found John’s behavior endearing, a testament to his unwavering dedication to keeping you safe. But as time wore on, his constant vigilance began to chafe, leaving you feeling suffocated by his overbearing presence.
"I'm just going for a walk, John," you protested, attempting to slip past him as he stood guard by the hotel entrance.
His grip tightened on your arm, his eyes flashing with undisguised worry. "I can't let you out of my sight, not with him out there," he insisted, his tone firm and resolute.
Frustration bubbled up inside you as you shook off his hold, refusing to be caged like some delicate bird.
"I'm not a child, John. I can take care of myself," you snapped, storming towards the door, before the brooding man stopped you and held his position in front of the door.
“I said no.”
His voice was cold, you were getting on his nerves. Paranoid or not, he couldn’t let you go outside.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, my patience has already been thrown out the window.” He glared at you, you could tell he wasn’t joking, but you just can’t help but to talk back.
“You’re such a brute. You can’t keep me here fore—“ You widened your eyes, feeling a hand read gently on your mouth. Fluttering your eyelashes to John’s gaze, your face flushed, your eyebrows narrowing.
“Stop being a brat.” He murmured, his words slipping smoothly through his lips.
Before you knew it, his body already pressed against yours firmly, his weight leaning you against the flat surface of the wall, secluded in your room.
“I’m just looking out for you, is that so hard to understand?”
As John pressed you against the decorative wallpaper, his firm grip sending shivers down your spine, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. His proximity ignited a fire within you, stirring desires that had long lain dormant.
With a defiant smirk, you met his intense gaze head-on, the heat of his breath mingling with yours as you leaned in closer, the tension crackling between you like electricity.
"You're not my keeper, John," you countered, your voice laced with equal parts defiance and desire. "I can take care of myself."
But before you could utter another word, John's lips crashed against yours, his kiss fierce and demanding, leaving you breathless and dizzy with longing. His hands roamed your body with a possessive urgency, igniting a fierce hunger deep within your core.
“Do you understand what no means?” He leaned back, scoffing at your flushed state. Now turning your body around to face him, his eyes trailed your body top to bottom, your heart pacing, knowing what was next.
With a gasp, you melted into him, your resistance crumbling beneath the weight of his passion. Every touch, every caress sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, building to a fever pitch that threatened to consume you whole.
It didn’t take long until you felt his hands start to trail up your silk dress, his hand could be seen rubbing along your thighs through the thin fabric. Each whimper you gave was met with a smirk from John, only fueling his ego.
“Seems like this brat is already so wet for me. Is this what you wanted? To push my buttons to end up like this?”
Your breath hitched as John’s hands explored the curves of your body, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you with every teasing touch. His words, though laced with arrogance, only served to stoke the flames of your desire, igniting a primal need that begged to be sated.
With a low whimper, you arched into his touch, unable to deny the intoxicating effect he had on you. “N-No I didn’t mean to I…,” you murmured, your voice dripping with seduction as you trailed your fingers along the contours of his chest.
The tension between you crackled with raw intensity, each touch, each whispered word fueling the inferno of passion that raged between you. Lost in the heat of the moment, his fingers eventually met contact with your wet folds, a moan slipping past your lips.
“J-John..” you croaked, squinting.
“I told you there would be punishments for your behavior.” You couldn’t even reply back in time when he had slipped a finger inside your wet hole, gasping into the air. A few pumps from his digits already made you a moaning mess.
Your words caught in your throat as John’s touch sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, rendering you speechless as ecstasy washed over you in dizzying waves. His fingers, skilled and knowing, delved deeper into your core, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatened to consume you whole.
Every pump, every stroke sent you spiraling closer to the edge, your moans echoing in the air as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming pleasure that John bestowed upon you. His touch was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, leaving you craving more with each passing moment.
He smirked, eventually pulling his fingers away to bring to his mouth, tasting you. You widened your eyes, wondering why he stopped as jaw hung open, your poor cunt soaked and wanting more.
John’s smirk only deepened as he savored the taste of your arousal on his fingers, his gaze locked with yours as he drank in your reaction with undisguised satisfaction. Your widened eyes and parted lips spoke volumes, your confusion and desire swirling together in a heady mix that only fueled his own arousal.
“Such a sweet little thing,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful promise as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You want more, don’t you?” He laughed wickedly. This was your punishment. He wasn’t going to continue, he was going to make you wait for it.
He scoffed, leaving you breathless and aching for more as he reveled in the power he held over you. Your body throbbed with need, every nerve on edge as you craved his touch like a drug.
“Clean yourself up, darling,” he said casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired between you.
Confusion and frustration warred within you as you struggled to make sense of his abrupt change in demeanor. Had it all been a game to him? A cruel joke at your expense?
With trembling hands, you gathered your wits about you, forcing yourself to stand on shaky legs as you attempted to compose yourself. But the memory of his touch lingered like a fever dream, leaving you reeling in its wake.
Now stepping out of the steaming shower, you sighed to yourself, thinking back to John’s advances just an hour ago. You should’ve known he had a trick up his sleeve just to toy with you.
Before you could dwell on the thought any longer, your phone rang, startling you out of your reverie. Glancing at the caller ID, you frowned in confusion at the unfamiliar number. Hesitantly, you answered, bringing the phone to your ear.
"Bonjour, ma chérie," a smooth voice purred from the other end, sending a chill down your spine.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Recognition dawned on you as you realized who was calling. "Marquis," you greeted evenly, masking the tremor in your voice. “How did you find my number…”
"Ah, I know a guy," he replied, his voice dripping with honeyed charm. "Tell me, have you been enjoying my little gifts?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I appreciate the gesture," you replied tersely, forcing a note of indifference into your tone.
Deep down, you weren’t scared or threatened that the man called you, in fact, you welcomed it. Perhaps you could use this as payback for John?
The Marquis's laughter echoed in your ears, he had noticed your tone of voice . "Oh, ma chérie, you wound me," he purred. "But tell me, have you left Paris? I haven’t seen you anywhere…”
Yeah, thanks to John. You thought in your head.
“I simply admire beautiful things, and you, my dear, are the most exquisite masterpiece of them all. A shame I haven’t seen you since the auction.
Despite the danger and warning bells ringing in your mind, a rebellious spark ignited within you at the Marquis’s words. You couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through you at the thought of defying John, of embracing the danger that lurked just beyond the shadows.
As the Marquis’s laughter echoed in your ears, you felt a surge of defiance welling up inside you.
“I’m still here, Marquis,” you replied, your voice laced with a hint of mischief. “And I must say, your absence hasn’t gone unnoticed either.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a low chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. “Ah, so you’re still playing games, ma chérie,” he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. “I must say, I do admire your spirit.”
The Marquis’s laughter filled the air once more, a sound that sent a thrill of anticipation racing through your veins. “Well then, my dear,” he purred. “Let’s see just how far that taste for danger will take you.”
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the end ! part 3 in progress…
© rosevette 2024 . do not copy !
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onskepa · 5 months
Note
Hello!
Tomorrow is my birthday and i hope you dont mind if i request you. If you could write a neteyam and human reader where she is deaf (because im deaf to lol) and after the ambush quaritch made, they have to take her with them, to the metkayina. Neteyam finds out she doesn't speak since she is deaf and doesn't hear herself, so he learns the metkayina sign language. But poor boy finds out she knows the american sign language (or one from earth). Also, only jake, her and norm knows it
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETIE!!
I did my best to make sure my gift to you is the best! I hope you can enjoy this! And enjoy the rest of your birthday, have a nice treat and celebrate!
---------------------------
Palang
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“What is she doing here? Not that I don't mind” Lo’al tells spider. Lo’ak and his siblings left to look for one of the old battle grounds to find anything interesting. But spider decided to bring a plus one to the trip. 
“I thought it would be good and nice if she enjoys the outdoors from time to time” Spider replies. Next to him was a girl whom the sully’s sees on a rare occasion outside of the lab. Standing next to spider, with a shy posture she gives the kids a small smile and waves at them a ‘hello’. 
“Well then let's go” lo’ak shrugs as takes lead of the small group. Spider guides his friend to be in the middle of the group as he walks behind her. The sully kids failed to see what the unique communication spider and his friend were having.
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It was dark, wet from the rain, and being held down tightly from strangers she has never met before. The girl was having constant internal screams about how she would get out of it. Looking at the rest of the teens, she can see kiri moving her lips, by body movement, she can guess kiri was doing a prayer of some sort. Perhaps praying for someone to save them. And really, the girl does want to be saved. Go back to the lab and in her comfy bed. Pretend the capture/hostage situation was a bad dream. 
Slowly and carefully she scans spider and the rest, to make sure they are calm. Especially the little one. Poor baby must be scared to death! 
However, she noticed everyone turning their heads to a certain direction, she followed their eyes. But all she sat was darkness. Perhaps it is the help they all prayed for? 
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“Here, this will help you feel better” Neteyam tells the silent human girl. Placing the bowl in front of her face, she jumped a bit startled. Looking up at him, she makes a gesture with her hand and chin and accepts the bowl. Neteyam thought it was but gave her a short smile and left her to eat in peace. 
Neteyam doesn't know much about the silent girl. Seen her only a handful of times. And even then, she was mostly with spider. And speaking of spider, he felt bad for his friend being taken from the demons. Whatever or wherever he is, he can only hope spider is safe. 
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“And why must we bring her with us!? She would stand out! Nobody from any clan will accept us with her!” Neytiri screeches to Jake as they discuss about leaving the Omatikaya clan. Jake was pacing back and forth, taking deep breaths. Being careful to say the right words. 
“She knows as much as spider. The RDA knows that kid is here and will likely look for her. And if they find her, they find everyone. Spider may not say a word to the RDA but they know there is another. It leaves us no choice. We have to take her with us”. 
Outside from the tent, their children were listening really closely. The four siblings all looked at each other and then silently to the girl who was staring at the bonfire. To leave their home, everything they ever knew was devastating. And to take a human who so far hasn't spoken a word would make things difficult to coming to terms with. 
“If she comes with us, how will that work?” Tuk asks silently. Neteyam gives it a moment of thought before walking over to the girl. 
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The girl stared at the fire, feeling the bright warmth. Would follow the little burning sparks as it fades away. How it dances and sways, never still always moving. Even if the fire stays in one spot, its movements never conform. So hypnotic and soothing. 
At least it was that until a large hand touched her shoulder. 
She quickly turns her head to see who it was. The boy who gave her some food. His mouth was moving, but all she could do was look at him. Perhaps he doesn't know? Turning her body towards him, she points to herself with her finger, and then moves her finger from the chin up to her ear. 
She observed the boy in front of her, his lips moving downwards and eyes moving slightly. Confused is most likely what he is feeling. And again he moves his mouth, with his hands moving as well but none of the hand moves he makes forms any words. 
This will be tricky to communicate.
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 “I'm sorry, I don't know what this hand thing you do” Neteyam says. He huffs out a bit frustrated. Looking down at the girl, and the girl seems to understand. He looks over to his fathers table of computers and tablets. There was a small tablet at the end of the table. Grabbing it he hands it to the girl. 
And it made the girl smile, her shoulders relaxing. Quickly she types in some words and flips it for him to read. 
“I am deaf. I cannot hear you. I cannot speak, for I am mute” 
Neteyam read the sentence over and over. Letting this new found information settle in. He looked at her, who was smiling. 
“You mean, you can't hear me? Can't hear anything?” he asks. The girl turns the tablet to type something else. And again, she flips it over. 
“I can not hear anything. Your sound, the sound of others. From the roars of the ikrans, to things being moved. I can't hear. That is how I am.” 
This opened a new window of perception to neteyam. A human who cant hear? How did that work? Or, not work in this case. To hear nothing but silence? It boggled his mind. Is this why he never heard her voice? 
Taking the tablet he does his best to type out some words. 
“If you can't hear, then how do you go on everyday?” 
The girl reads it and takes it back to reply. 
“I heighten my other senses. More specifically, sense of touch and feel. I do my best to feel the vibrations of everything. My eyes are also sharp. No means am I perfect on it. I get distracted sometimes”. 
And that is how they communicated for the few hours they had together. Neteyam couldn't help but take interest in the girl. Yet somehow despite the long time of “chatting”, not once did neteyam ask for her name. 
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After so many long talks and arguments. It was settled. The sully family and the young girl all left to seek a new home for the better safety of the children. For the entire travel, the girl was with neteyam. He did his best to bring her comfort. 
Everything was happening so fast, new regions the girl has never seen before. And before she had the chance to admire the environment, they had to move forward. Between sunny days and dark thunderous nights, 
The other siblings did their best to make the trip as comfortable for her as possible, but there was so much they could do. Of course she took the tablet to type out her words but the battery can last only for so long. So the tablet is used only for emergencies. 
But alas, they reached the final destination. In view, was the clear blue waters of a beautiful island. White earth covering connecting the blue ocean. The girl was in awe, the na’vi also looked different yet similar at the same time. Many with interesting tattoos! 
Climbing down from the ikran, the girl was able to feel the warm yet wet sand. Felt funny but it was soft, seeing ahead, tuk was looking at the gathering crowd. Neteyam guides the girl to look up at him. He gestures to stand close behind him. Complying she does so. 
As they all walk up to the crowd, two na’vi walked up to jake and the others. Conversation was happening as she sees their mouths moving. 
She tries her best to understand but all her thoughts were stopped as the female na’vi walked up to her. Glaring down with her clear eyes. 
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“And what of her?” Ronal asks as she inspects the quiet sky demon in front of her. Jake walked to them, keeping his hands out for ronal to see. 
“She cant speak, not even hear. We will watch over her. I promise, if she must, she will also learn your ways” Jake pleaded. Ronal glaces at him and then back at the girl. Small in height, not very threat looking. 
So she turns and has a silent conversation with Tonowari. 
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“They accept” The girl thought. A small smile broke out from her face, feeling relieved. By observing the two leaders, simply watching their eyes was enough to tell her many things. They did always say, the silence can speak a thousand words.
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“Can you do that again? “ Neteyam asks tsireya. She happily does so. She, ao’nung and rotxo were teaching the sully children how to speak in sign language. This is one lesson neteyam payed attention to in great detail. Tried to mesmerize what each movement is for. 
“You seem more eager with our finger talk than actually swimming” Ao’nung comments. “He wants to talk to our friend. '' Tuk applies the small information ith a happy, shameless smile. Her siblings were quick to scold her. 
“Why doesn't your friend join us? It would be interesting to get to know her” Rotxo says. Lo’ak shakes his head, “well good luck with that. She is deaf”. 
“Lo’ak!” Neteyam shouts. 
This raised some curiosity with the metkayina children. 
“You mean, she can't hear anything? At all?” Tsireya asks, all the sully kids nodded. While loss of hearing wasn't entirely impossible, such a rarity in fact, it doesn't stop one from searching for methods to communicate. 
“Well, all the more reasons to bring her with you! I would like to meet her and chat” Tsireya says with a happy smile. Now feeling more eager, tsireya and the others do their best for the sully kids to hone the new skill and perhaps have better communication with the girl. 
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The girl in question felt the familiar footsteps of neteyam. Turning to see him enter, he had a bright smile on his face. Curious, she had her full attention on him. Neteyam moved his hands, making unfamiliar signs. It looked like sign language but all the movements were wrong and couldn't make out anything. 
Tilting her head, he gives him a confused expression. 
Neteyam sees this and tries again, making sure he made all the right signs like how tsireya taught him. 
“You do not understand?”  He signs to her. And again, the girl shrugs and looks to be a bit lost by his communication. Sighing, he grabs the emergency tablet to type. 
“I was learning sign language today. That was what I was trying to do with you. I thought I learned it correctly, was there no sign readable?” 
The girl reads his message and forms her mouth to the shape of an “oh”. Finally understanding, she replies to him. 
“I understand now. The sign language you were learning is na’vi language. The language I sign is english. So there is still a barrier” 
Her shoulders shake, as if she was laughing silently. Poor boy went through hours of learning how to sign only to be fruitless in the end. Neteyam  hangs his head low. Feeling slightly embarrassed. Of course it would be english. Nobody, not even from his clan, new of the sign language of their people. 
Grabbing the tablet, he says “well it seems we both have learning to do” 
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The next day, neteyam brought the silent girl to meet the metkayina children. She felt slightly overwhelmed but felt happy to be included. Tisreya was more than eager to talk to the gently sky demon, but neteyam informed her the sign language she spoke was still of sky demon language. 
So to combat it, Tsireya took  it upon herself to personally teach both neteyam and the girl how to speak with their hands. 
And to say, it was no easy feat. 
Having an extra finger, there were things that needed to be adjusted. But not impossible oh no. If anything, the girl was just as eager to learn a new language. And with steady ease did she manage to have conversations with neteyam and the other kids! 
Things were not as awkward as before. Needing the tablet less and less. Almost forgotten. The girl smiled more, and became very active. From swimming to doing her part in the clan. She felt like it was a second chance. No more white cold metal walls but see the beautiful ocean every day. To be as free and easily speak with others better than she ever did back at the forest. 
As she sees it, it was a rebirth, and a rebirth requires a new name. 
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“Good morning Palang” Tuk signs to palang. Stretching out her limbs, letting the morning sunlight rays hit her skin, palang signs back, “Good morning tuktuk”. 
Another glorious day. Getting up, palang gets ready for the day. Communicating with sending specific vibrations or hand signs, everyone in the pod does their morning routine. Today, palang and neteyam have hunting and gathering duties. Something both have come to love. 
“Palang don't forget, you have to assist tuk with her lessons” Neytiri signs to palang. She nods to confirm, “Yes netyiri, I will make sure she doesn't skip this time”. She goes to the edge, ready to dive as neteyam walks up beside her. 
“Are you ready palang?” Neteyam signs to her. Palang smiles, the shine of the sun competing with the shine of her eyes. “Yes, lets do this!” she signs back. Both jump into the water and dive deep. The oceanic colors and life never cease to amaze them. Truly, Palang feels completed and hopes to grow further alongside her greatest friend, neteyam. 
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Aaaaaaand that is all everyone! Anon, I hope you liked this fic and all of you liking it as well~!
I typed this with sleepy eyes and brain, If i made mistakes please tell me!
Until next time! See ya!
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Palang - contact (in a social sense) communicate with
P.S: I spent more time on the name than I did with the story XP
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