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honestsycrets · 2 years ago

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Stung | [Miguel O'Hara x Reader]

❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | after a discus malfunction, you're bitten by an anomaly and refuse medical attention. you're in a state that you refuse to show to miguel-- at all costs.

❛ tags | NSFW, sex pollen, mention of a wound, slight chase, miguel o'hara doesn't like to be ignored, cum eating, creampies, abnormal amount of fluid, venom bite, slapping, some insecurity, spanish is not translated, sexual memories.

❛ sy’s notes | my obligatory ABO-sex pollen fic for ATSV. i usually make a ABO/Sex Pollen piece per fandom I write in, so here's one for Miggy 🐝

“All done!”

You slipped out of HQ’s packed infirmary with a jaunty bounce in your step. Crispy, coppery blood was matted onto your forearm concealed behind a hastily tied bandage. You weren't concerned about it. It would resolve within the hour. Likely less. As would your elevated body temperature. Despite the doctor's prattle about the benefit of further testing, you found their concern to be a non-issue. These things were virtual non-issues, even if the doctor and your man thought otherwise.

The hallways at HQ were like any other day in your city. Congested with the coming and going of spiders in their daily lives. A glimpse at any group might reveal decadent flirting and haughty laughter. Some were in a rush to their own worlds, but most were completing work assigned by the Spider Society. The one you were looking for reclined against a wall with his arms interlocked one over the other. His displeased rumble prompted you to his presence above all other voices in the crowd.

“You should have let them run the tests.” His voice was teased with concern but became mild, little more than a drab sigh at your refusal. You blew off his concern with a shake of your hand, gone yellow and bubbly behind a bit of ineffectual gauze. His eye glazed over the wound. You couldn't tell what he was thinking behind his mask, but you didn't need to. You only needed to convince him you were right.

“It’s stopped bleeding, Miggy. It’s just a scratch,” You held up your arm, flicking it with emphasis. His eyebrows raised for a moment, then flattened, staring at you with a dull rictus. “It was just a brief malfunction of the discus.”

Technically it was more of an impalement, but if Miguel wasn’t going to ask, you weren’t going to invite him to delve deeper. Otherwise, you might spend the next few hours of your life fixing a wound that surely would have closed up by the time results were back. The injury site mildly itched. That was all. Never mind, the slight, honey-colored rash migrating from the puncture site to your elbow. Or the referred pain. Minor things.

“You’re being stubborn.”

“You’re the one to talk.” You snapped the discus free from your sash and chucked it toward Miguel. He caught it with an unsurprising amount of ease, claws clicking in unison against the ineffectual metal.

“¡Qué problema!” he mocked, his voice dry and absent of discernible emotion.

You closed the distance between your bodies to slide your arms around his broad neck. His other hand came to your lower back. It was warm, the way he touched you, from the bundles of affection that fluttered in your belly to the heat dappling across your chest. You missed this every day. It made fleeing the infirmary all the more worth it.

“I put the anomaly in another discus. One that actually works, no thanks to your programming.”

“That’s what happens when you take things without asking.” He flicked the discus between his thumb and index finger, waggling it for emphasis. It was true that there had been nights that went with banging, clacks, clatters, and the occasional outburst when things weren’t quite going his way. There were a few discuses on his desk. You just so happened to take the one that malfunctioned. “I was working on it. ¿Qué era?”

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Just some stingy bees. What harm could they do?”

His eyes roamed your wound. You couldn't help but look down too, both horrified and fascinated by the way the rash had moved in just a brief few minutes. The colour had begun to fade. You glanced up, flattening your mouth into a slight, forced smile.

“Fine. If you're sure.”

To be fair, you secured many anomalies with and without the help of others. They all went into their cozy, temporary forcefield homes until they could be fairly redirected to their appropriate dimensions. In the downtime, you could help or hinder Miguel's progress. Then, your watch would alert you to another disturbance and the cycle would continue.

Until that morning.

Your watch blared, and blared, and blared some more. The early morning sun began to rise and cast offensive beams of light into your room. Usually, it didn’t bother you. But this morning, everything offended you from the scratch of silky sheets on your naked body to Lyla illuminating what darkness was left, all golden and cute. You wondered if that was how Miguel felt when you forgot to pull the curtains, strung out on the bed after he finished with you.

“Woah! Oops!” she turned, covering her eyes with her spindly fingers. A growing ache throbbed between your legs. It wasn’t quite the same dull soreness from Miguel’s late-night visit last night, either. “Sorry, sorry. Miguel--”

“He can handle it,” you bit out, snappier than you intended. It wasn't like you. “Or-- Jess. No, Gwen. Gwen can do it, she loves--”

“He asked for you.”

Of course, he did. You scrunched a pillow over your head. Your Miguel couldn’t see you this. Absolutely not. You debated getting up, ignoring what you called a negligible ache that was quickly morphing into a terrible pounding. You can't believe how quickly the thought fell apart, pushing yourself to sit up in bed. The ghost of his scent floods your nose, flashing memories of the night before.

Something at work set him off. Something that commanded no intimacy, but the mechanical release of his rage that wouldn't destroy precious resources. He sat on the edge of the bed, driving your mouth onto his cock with the aid of your hair bundled around his fist. You recalled the shakiness of his thighs under your fingers, his firm legs spread wide fucking your mouth with cold abandon. He chased his own orgasm selfishly, needing the release, needing to see your body painted by whips of his cum sprayed across your exposed breasts. He pulled you off in silence, inspecting the drool and cum that spilled down your chin and throat in rivulets. "What--"

Your face tightened, glancing down at the growing tension in your belly. Everything began to annoy you, especially the scratch of the sheets against your skin, your bed empty of his presence. How could you tolerate that uniform plastered to your ass? You buried into the offensive bed. This was fine. This was normal, recalling what you'd done last night. Surely, the burn had to do with the whole being launched through not one, but two crumbling buildings the day before. The dust and rubble. Were you close to your cycle?

“Tell him I’m dead,” and without another word, you resolved the call. Within seconds she popped up again, bent at the waist because this was your life now. Never could you just… take a day off. There was always something. You muffled your screams of protest into the mattress and dug your feet in, kicking off the sheets, the blankets, the pillows, all of it.

“Is this a fit? You’ve never had a fit before,” Lyla noticed. A fit? She thought the burning of your body was a fit? Damn AI. Resolve.

Resolve. Resolve. Resolve.

It became cathartic after a good while. Or it would have been if not for your senses hyper-fixating on every minor change in your body. Despite your apprehension, you knew. What was once a dull pain radiating from your forearm morphed into something much worse. Something you couldn’t blame on the rather average experience of being pelted through the average event of windows and concrete. It was more than a tingle. It burned as it coursed through your body.

You stumbled over the bundle of bedding into the bathroom. It was there that you realized that to your horror, you weren’t just lubricated, now you were soaked. Your fluids coursed down your thighs as you dabbed the region clean with a bundle of tissues. It did little good. Touching the area exasperated the issue. Maybe you needed an orgasm, maybe ten. An hour or so later, you slammed the heel of your palm into the mirror, fracturing it into shards of terrible glass that crumbled onto the countertop. Beads of blood dabbled onto your reflection.

“If you d--” resolve.

So not a reaction to your average bee sting. Correction. A great, big, fat colony of hissing, buzzing bees. The act of recalling information was like jamming your hand into fluid water to snatch a tiny hair tie. No matter how many times you tried to recall the information, you couldn’t quite grasp it. It was there, floating around your head, but inaccessible. Your mind traveled back to Miguel. How gentle his lips could be, trailing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder when you rode him in reverse. How deep he'd go.

"Fuck off!" Your watch blared again. Its beeping filled your bathroom, echoing over and over. You reached behind the door to pluck a silky white slip from its hook and dragged it over your head. You were about to resolve the call again when the hot timbre in his warm voice saying your name gave you pause. Your Miguel, popping up in a golden haze. You found yourself gazing at his full lips, full and plump. If only he was here. He could have his lips on your--

“What are you doing?”

Lost in thought, you failed to realize that Miguel had been calling you by name again. You shook your hazy mind free of the thoughts that formed a swirling cloud over your head. You slumped down the wall and onto the floor.

Help was what you failed to say. As your mouth opened, nothing came out. The words were not wording. The vulnerability of asking for help was palpable. You soothed yourself by shifting your hands underneath your skirt. What would he think if he saw you here-- ripped asunder by your own biology? Whore. Miguel lowered his gaze, his eyes squinting at the sweat dabbling down your neckline as he looked you over. He wouldn't want you anymore.

“Are you listening? ¡Coño! What is wrong with you!?”

Resolve.

You resolved him. Your Miggy-- resolved. Oh, you swallowed dryly. He wasn’t going to be happy about that. It wasn’t a matter of if Miguel would come for you. It was a matter of when. When he had time to separate himself from trashing-- whatever was the closest object to him in the lab-- to take out his rage on you. You reached for your medicine cabinet. You had more important things to worry about. First on the list? The searing heat.

Your watch was better off tucked away in a chest in the closet.

Night came with no solutions. You crouched on your window sill, chest rising and falling. You sought to stare at anything but the mindless buzz of the tv screen inside. Even with light pollution, some stars winked in the distance. Your body was a bundle of warm heat, buzzing with irritation after a fruitless day of soothing your body. You grew accustomed to your pert nipples against your silky slip, the lubricant coursing down your leg. At first, denial. Now, acceptance. You thought tomorrow might be better.

You felt his presence before you heard, smelled, or saw him. Through the sea of scorched sensations battering your senses, there was one that stood apart. A tickle that niggled at the back of your head. It could have been anyone, but you didn’t have to guess to know who it was. “Lyla."

“You haven’t called him all day,” Lyla squeaked.

“Called all-- I answered his call!” Your dress was matted to your body, cloaked in an abhorrent amount of sweat. It was only minutes ago that you retrieved your watch confident that you could bullshit something, anything, for a few days of reprieve. You jammed your shaking finger to resolve the call.

“Not all of them. Miguel was worried.”

“Worried! Lyla, that is not worried,” you spat. That was your Miguel, scaling the side of your apartment. His talons cracking the siding of your apartment. The reverberations spiraled up your legs, sending waves of anticipation lapping at your core. After your long day, you weren't sure how you were still somehow upright. With every crack of his talon into the brick siding, you were running out of time to come up with an excuse.

In a bid to escape, you fell into your room. The hard floor knocked the breath out of your dry lips. You stumbled onto your feet and supported yourself with a bookcase of less than half-read books. “Lyla, he can’t see me like this!”

“Then tell me what’s going on,” she popped back up. “C’mon, you can tell me, it can’t be that bad.”

If her tone was playful in some half-baked attempt to neutralize your fight, the threat was imminent. Your hand connected with the top of the window, applying pressure to close the window. A hair too late. At the same time, Miguel’s clawed hand curled around the bottom of the window sash. You were too slow for the man who excelled with power, speed, and efficiency. You weren't going to win this fight. Not with your body threatening to crack at the very sight of your man's strength.

Though you saw him nearly daily, he always took your breath away. His sinewy body was always a sight, his suit accentuated his thick and fine cut. You moistened your lips, longing to run your fingers through his thick dark brown hair as you did every night. You caught his sharp gaze a second longer than you should have.

“Open up,” he whispered coolly.

He was a distraction. The wind was not on your side either, blowing wisps of his scent into your overwrought senses. His natural musk mixed with the sweat of a hard day's work. Somewhere in there, bitter blood. You could smell the caramelized scent of the flaky, buttery empanadas and hot coffee you shared the day before. It gave you pause, his intoxicating smell and the sultry trill of his voice. But you couldn’t let him see you, not like this.

“Oop, there he is. Just checking on you,” Lyla chittered. Resolve.

“Miggy, please go away,” you sobbed in frustration, shifting to shoulder the window. “Why are you so stubborn!?”

“It’s who I am.”

The window cracked all at once. With mere milliseconds to respond to the sash careening into the upper rail, you whirled past the bedroom door. Miguel broke into a run behind you with long strokes of his legs. He made contact, sending you barreling into your lazy sapphire couch from the impact. You saw stars for a fraction of a second before you lurched on your palms and elbows, scrambling off of the couch and across the floor. His hand caught your ankle and dragged you underneath his body.

“¡Ay!” you bit out. “No, no no no. Miggy!”

“¡Callate!”

His hand wrapped tightly around your throat to force complacency, pinning you back to the hardwood floor. Your palms slammed onto his chest, drawing lines down his chest. Bits of pathetic electricity fizzled on his broad, muscular chest, a consequence of your fading focus. That focus was eviscerated when Miguel threw his hips flat against your core. Your frantic fidgeting against Miguel soothed some of the terrible, buzzing pressure rattling between your legs like warm honey on a sore wound. The ache for his relief became more important than the impulse for substantial breaths.

“Don’t move. Why are you--”

“I can’t help it,” you cut him off, straining against his large palm to stare at his crotch. His gaze fell on yours, following the path to his soft cock. His eyes widened with the sudden attention. Tears threatened to spill over from your eyes, pricked with spikes of pain. "It's too much!"

You ate your shame with his body crouched between your legs and his large palm choking the air out of your throat. The influx of air not only brought your scent, but your day-long desperation to fix what you believed was wrong. He could smell it now. He could see it now. He could hear it in your voice. He knew why you failed to answer his calls. The violent jabbing of the resolve button. Throwing your watch into your cramped closet to ignore the calls. The pheromones that soaked your apartment. It was unavoidable.

“You can’t help it,” he repeated. Miguel considered you with razor-sharp eyes, nearly as sharp as the talons that rescinded into his arms.

"I'll see about that." His hand left your neck to reveal bundles of bumpy shivers that soared across your skin. He raised his finger to wipe away the wet tears that fell from your flushed cheeks. Then dropping lower, Miguel chased the thin straps of your gown with his claw and slid the offending fabric off of your breast. The nub was as hard as it had been hours ago when you twerked the nipple between your fingertips and dreamed of Miguel.

“You’re...” he cupped your breast in your palm and massaged your nipple with one sharp twist of his thumb. The gasp that left your lips wasn’t one you were proud of. Your undulating hips that ground down on his cock weren’t entirely unwarranted. You needed it. "Hot. As if you're in heat."

This couldn’t be happening. From a ball of rage to one of arousal, he released a tiny amused chuckle. You spent much of the day in different parts of the apartment with your hand, toy, ice, and water into your body to soothe this terrible ache. So Miguel wouldn't see you like this. It was this moment you sought to avoid after your long day: The moment of Miguel's disapproval. Now he laughed at you.

“Happy?” you sobbed into the forearm that kept Miguel stable. “Go away, someone else could use your stupid help.”

“Don’t you need me?” Miguel dipped his head down. Strands of his dark hair tickled your hypersensitive skin. With the lightweight fabric of his suit, pressing your cunt back against his clothed bulge felt wonderful. You bit your lower lip and watched his cock jut against its fabric. You lifted your puffy eyes to his gaze and found a wicked gleam there. He knew it wasn’t enough contact for the pressure and painful spasms to abate. Deep down, you knew that Miguel was your only hope for relief. Who else could, or would, you call in this condition? Mostly because Miguel always fixed everything.

"Miggy," you murmured. After this pitiful display, he wasn't rejecting you? Your mind flowed weightless and light. The terror of your day faded under his careful caress. In its place, comfort that he would take care of you.

“Don’t you?” His hand snaked between your folds and found it soaked wet, the low throbbing of your pussy palpable. He retracted his fingers and spread the sticky fluid between his thumb and middle finger. At some point, silence became better than an answer. Miguel brought his hand down on your cunt for a sharp slap. Bundles of nerves cried out under the abuse. It shook free a squeal from your lips, bitten raw by the pressure of the day. Your head bobbed into a mechanical nod as to save yourself from another slap.

“You know how to ask. It’s si Miguel, por favor Miguel.”

You needed the warm sensation of his cum. But making those words proved too difficult. Your canines pierced bloody holes in your lower lip. You clawed up his forearms, trying to leverage and force him closer. Miguel grabbed your shoulders and thrashed them back down onto the floor. You felt bad for the downstairs neighbors.

“Say it.”

“Miggy,” you looked into his eyes. They were blown wide, nearly fully black with a thin outline of scarlet, chasing the outline of your exposed breast. For all his talk, you realized he wasn't immune. Even with his face tight, his eyes focused on the same thing you needed. Maybe, all this time, you were baiting Miguel with half-assed answers. They were invitations. Invitations to come to fill this need you had. You would be lying if you said that wasn’t what you wanted this whole time. Finally, you had him where you wanted him.

Miguel broke eye contact first. He cupped his plush lips around your nipple, suckling the breast taut and wet. You cried out in surprise and arched into Miguel’s mouth, enticed by the fangs that grazed your nipple. As quickly as he came, he was gone.

You lurched up, palming Miguel's dick through his pants. His hips bucked into your palm. He refused to make any sound as he considered your next movements, releasing Miguel’s cock from his suit. Impatience and need coalesced into your brave movements, sliding your palm against him. He was impossibly thick and hard, dribbling at the tip. Miguel huffed a small noise as your palm ran over him. You dared to call it a moan.

Miguel sneered and shoved you back onto the floorboards. “I’ll only tell you one more time. Ask me properly.”

"You do too, don't you?" You giggled. A noise that grated his ear. With the belief you wouldn’t bolt, Miguel shifted back onto his knees. You wouldn’t. There was nowhere left to run. Not that you even wanted to, fat and hungry off Miguel's growing desperation.

"Come here." He snaked his hands underneath your knees, dragged you close, and pushed them to your chest. Your eyes fluttered shut. Moments later, the sensation of his thick dick sliding against your engorged folds forced them back open. It gave you just enough relief through the pulsing pain to look at him with your hazy eyes. From this angle, you appreciated how large Miguel had gotten. His round cock-head bobbed and crested over your mound as it rubbed against your aching clit. His face was trained, focused. He wasn't going to relent first.

The nagging pressure never abated. You sought something more, something better, the sensation of being filled. With every glide, you squeezed your walls in protest to his absence. Your hips protested the restriction of your movement, shimmying against the firm hold he had that kept you in place. You wanted more than that. You wanted true relief from his teasing. Miguel drew back to inspect the fluid over his fat shaft as held you down. You gave in, whining at him like a brat.

“Por,” you scratched his forearms. “Por favor, Miggy. You don’t know what it's like.”

“All fours-- face down.”

The cacophony of desire battered and overcame any other human emotion you could have. You complied, crawling onto your fuzzy indigo rug for what came next. Miguel’s gloved hand skimmed across your ass, middle finger skimming toward the center. He followed up his gentle touch by reeling back his hand and cracking it across your ass, searing the nerves alive. Once, twice, and then a third. Tears pricked your cheeks again, a consequence of your nerves being overwrought and now assailed.

“Miggy!”

He shushed you with fervor, another thwack beating the jiggling flesh hot and red. Your legs trembled under the weight of his slaps. “Ignore my calls again and you’ll get much worse.”

“I didn’t-- you wouldn't want me,” your lips parted in defense of what you’d done. Miguel dipped down to spread your folds, rolling his index finger along your pulsing walls. Your body drew him in, squeezing and urging him forward. Your swollen walls were impossibly tight, straining to bring him in more and more.

"You know I do."

The need for more devoured any other thought, any threats of what he’d do next time. You rolled your hips to ride his hand. In place of a slap, Miguel slid another finger slid in beside the first to stretch your walls open. He faltered at your next words and slid his fingers free.

“Not like… not like I need you.”

“Who decides that?” he pressed on your upper back to force it down. You complied. Miguel stumbled forward, finally pressing his thick head to your pulsing entrance. His round head pressed, just barely, into your wet hole. You clenched down, inviting him into your warmth. You weren’t sure he’d actually give it to you. It was so damn close.

“You do, Miggy,” you murmured, pushing back. He watched as his shaft slowly disappeared into your body, your apprehension of retaliation rendered you too slow to finish.

Miguel snatched your waist and forced you to take the rest, a soppy squelch lubricating his shaft. The sound that slipped from your lips was entirely uncouth, punctuated by his unforgiving thrusts. Your walls strained around his cock. No matter how many times you took him, the drag of his cock and slap of balls against your body always felt somehow like the first. It filled that ache-- the consistent burning need to have him here, inside of your greedy body, scratching something that you could not itch all day. It’s what you wanted.

“That’s right, I do.” Miguel rumbled, short, punctuated thrusts beating your clenching cunt into complacency. The pleasure ruptured through your cunt-- battering his dick in response. He let loose a sharp grunt followed by a string of curses. Your sweet release spilled over his dick and balls, dripping down your thighs. Your legs threatened to shook, but Miguel was unwilling to allow your trembling legs to give out.

"Ah! Miggy!" His fangs punctured your shoulder to force you to stay in position, his pelvis stuttering against yours. His growl punctuated the warm, soothing cum that soothed your walls like warm honey over a wound. Your walls milked him free of his cum, spasming in response to his orgasm. He pieced himself together against your back, pulling his fangs free and settling a soft kiss over the burning wound on your shoulder. As if he hadn't been the one to tear his fangs into the crook of your neck.

“You’re not letting go,” he hummed in annoyance. He turned his attention down to your ass, ghosting his fingers over the healing bruises over your backside. You squealed, jerking forward. He followed you forward, punching a hole in the floor by your side. “Fuck, don’t move!”

You cast your attention back toward Miguel. He huffed forcefully out of his nostrils. He motioned toward your ass as if it were obvious-- your walls were clamped over his cock, unwilling or otherwise unable to let him go, as if he had any more cum to give in that current moment. You took it all.

“I. I didn't-- I can’t--”

“Yeah, I know. That Bee venom does that. Mine should neutralize it.”

At some point, you murmured. It sure as hell wasn’t doing it now, keeping him seated into your cunt that bubbled with the mixture of his and your release. “You knew about it? I could have died!”

Miguel chuckled.

“You wouldn’t. You’re too stubborn to die,” he sighed, fiddling with his watch. The tests-- that you never had ran. Ones that he suggested. Ones that you refused quite openly. “Why would I deny myself the fun?”

His cock slipped free. Your hips dropped and fell slack against the floor. You weren’t proud of the cum that oozed out of your ass over your decimated room, nor the fact that your useless neighbors hadn’t called for help once. Not that you needed it-- but still. You palpated your stomach, slightly distended. Miguel bent down and gathered the mixture of your bodily fluids on his fingers, suckling his own fingers dry. You watched his wet tongue swirl around his fingertips. It wasn't fair.

“Fun? What fun!? Do you know how long I-- You’re a mean man, Miguel O’Hara.”

He lurched over, his breath tickling your lips. He kissed you, salty and sweet. Your nose scrunched up, pouting against his lips. He left the room for the kitchen, fetching a wet cloth to clean his body with. He zipped himself back into his suit shortly after and dropped the sodden cloth by the cum puddling under your ass.

“Never said I wasn’t.”

#miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #Miguel ohara/reader #atsv imagine #atsv x you #atsv x reader #atsv imagines #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x y/n #across the spiderverse imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut

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borathae · 2 months ago

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↳ Index [Day 20 - Findom]

Pairing: Soft Dom!Yoongi x switch f.Reader x switch!Jungkook

Genre: Vampire!Yoongi, Vampire!Jungkook, Magic!AU, Polyamory!AU, established relationship!AU

Kinks: findom in this story = Yoongi having a spending kink on them, neck kisses, clothed sex (nipple play, nipple sucking over shirt), handjob, dirt talk, sensory play with a necklace, temperature play with spit, but also! casual nudity & skinny tipping in private pool where they flirt and tease and are so hot, Kook is very Dom with her during those moments, as they prepare for Yoongi they play with each other’s nipples, maybe this isn’t even a findom story but a nipple story fbasdbf, they call him Daddy once cause he is into that, it's not a huge part of the story though, loving aftercare

Wordcount: 6.4k

a/n: listen. the vision of the person was handjob + sensory + temperature + nipples and somehow this came into my mind? like obviously doing it to kookie would have been the most logical thing to do with their dynamic but what if they decide that rich sugardaddy lovebug boongie deserves to be pampered for all his efforts? what then? then this smut happens and we can all scream together <3

That Yoongi was rich was just as much fact as the sun being warm was. That he uses these riches to treat you and Jungkook to absolute everything you desire was just as certain. You and Jungkook have to be careful how you talk in front of Yoongi because if you just so happen to mention in passing that you want something, rest assured that you will have it in your possession mere days later. So when he overheard you and Jungkook talking about a vacation somewhere warmer, mere weeks later you found yourselves in a plane to your private paradise. You weren’t even serious. You and Jungkook were in the back gardens of the estate, sharing the shadow of a willow tree as you enjoyed the mild autumn day. You talked about many things; from nature, art, the universe and your hobbies and as you talked, Jungkook dared to slip his dream of going somewhere warmer. You agreed, coincidentally timing it with Yoongi coming around the corner and hearing everything.

“Do you mean that?” he asked and sat down next to you.

“You are not going to plan anything now, are you?”

“Well, did you mean it?”

“Yoongi, stop it. You don’t gotta spend so much money on us.”

“That’s ridiculous. Give me a week.”

And you knew that no matter what you said, you wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Jungkook regrets asking for a vacation somewhere warmer. Yoongi kept his word, but at what cost? Jungkook is sweating his butt off and that means a lot because the only thing currently covering him, is a small piece of cloth on his crotch as he is lying in starfish position on the stone floor of the holiday mansion. Above his head, the ceiling fan is working without end, casting dancing shadows on the red paint. Jungkook swears that the air it moves around is hotter than the sun herself. The wind carries the sound of the outside into the room. The busy street, the trickling of the waterfall pool and the lively bazaar with its music. You and Yoongi went to said bazaar. Jungkook could have come as well, but didn’t want to leave because he was just way too hot. He is not regretting his decision of staying back. If he left, he most definitely would have melted into a puddle.

Just this moment, the front door opens and the conversation between you and Yoongi reaches Jungkook’s ears. He doesn’t move, eyes zoned out on the ceiling fan and mouth agape in exhausted pants. You will find him eventually, there is no need to make any unnecessary movements.

“I’m sweating my ass off, seriously”, you tell Yoongi as you walk to the living era of the mansion.

“We can take a swim, that’ll cool you off. Where the fuck’s the brat off to?” Yoongi says.

Jungkook knows that he is meant by the brat and that Yoongi says it with love and adoration.

“I don’t know. Maybe outside? Kookie, we’re home!”

“Come get your snacks, bub!”

“Oh?”

“Careful, almost walked into you. Why did you stop?”

“Found him.”

Jungkook lifts his head. You and Yoongi are standing just up the three stairs. Yoongi is carrying all of the shopping bags while you point at Jungkook.

“Urgh”, Jungkook groans, dropping his head again.

“Are you feeling alright?” you ask him in a chuckle.

“No, I’m dying.”

“Are you still hot?”

“Yeah.”

“Poor boy. I get you though. Did you take a swim already?”

“Yeah.”

“And that didn’t help?”

“No.”

“Well, that sucks”, you say and take the three stairs down. You pull the dress over your head and take off your bra. Yoongi follows you with his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t at first until you naturally pass him on your way outside and he gets a glimpse of your naked chest. He lifts his head, eyes now glued to you as you get entirely naked. You take the stairs into the pool, looking over your shoulder once your lower body is completely submerged.

“You guys can join me, you know?” you say playfully and submerge yourself into the water completely. You even go underwater, diving up again after a few seconds. You feel their eyes on you. It’s kind of exciting, you have to be honest. But you act oblivious, wiping the water out of your face in an angle that gives them glimpses of your chest in the sunlight.

Jungkook glances at Yoongi. Yoongi glances at Jungkook. They are thinking the same thing. Jungkook rolls to his stomach and gets on all fours before he jumps to his feet. You hear the naked pitter patter of his soles and in the next second, water explodes next to you as he jumps into the pool.

You laugh, shielding yourself as best as possible. Jungkook dives to you, coming up for air in a way which allows him to pick you up. You wrap your legs around his waist instantly, hands wiping the water from his face. Your upper body is out of the water like this, tits pressing against his huge pecs.

“I thought you were hot”, you say, soaking up the feeling of his naked skin greedily. The way he holds you allows you to feel his abs against your middle. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t affected by it.

“I am”, Jungkook answers you, fingers digging into your buttocks.

“And this is helping?”

He nods his head. You chuckle, scratching his undercut. He smiles lazily, eyes glued to your lips.

“Hold your breath”, he whispers.

You follow his orders. Jungkook takes a deep breath as well and goes underwater with you in his arms. He stays like this for three seconds then dives up again, gazing when you naturally wipe the water from your face and it makes your back arch. Shit, if he wasn’t such a gentleman, he would be sucking on those pretty nipples of yours by now. They are so wet, dripping water, and are just inches away from his lips. He moans inaudibly, parting his lips hungrily.

You look at him again, “what?”

“Just having thoughts”, he rasps.

“Thoughts?”

“Mhm, thoughts”, he purrs, eyes flitting to your tits.

You tingle, having to gulp. This look is enough to let you know every single filthy thought he was having.

“Water bomb!”

Water explodes next to you, hitting you and Jungkook without warning. You screech while Jungkook drops you in shock. You look at the side of impact. Yoongi dives up with a shit eating grin and his sunglasses completely tilted off his face.

“You didn’t expect that, did you?” He teases playfully, paddling to you even if the pool is only chest height for him. With his hair sticking to his face funnily, he looks like a wet cat trying to swim.

“No we didn’t, you doofus”, you say, fixing the glasses for him. Next you wipe his hair out of his face.

“I got you good”, he coos and hangs himself onto your back.

“You did, yeah.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving kisses on your heated skin.

“Mhm, that’s nice”, you sigh, rolling your head to the side.

“Mhm, and you’re soft”, he whispers, biting your shoulder gently.

You enjoy his touch with a tingling stomach. His body is just as hot as Jungkook’s. Judging from the fabric against your skin, he isn’t naked however. That explains why it took him a while to jump into the pool. He had to change into his swimming clothes.

Yoongi ends the little munching session with a kiss to your earlobe, wrapping his sculpted arm around your neck in a gentle headlock. You can feel his muscles tense like this, back pressed against his torso.

“You’re a temptress”, he speaks in a normal voice and because it is naturally so deep, you feel it vibrate in his chest.

“What did I do?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

You smile, agreeing with a hum and a cock of your right brow. Yoongi growls, tilting your head to the side with his fingers around a bundle of your hair. Like this, your neck is on complete display to him and he claims it in a gentle bite. The kind which would never harm, but which still makes you arch your back in bliss. The bite ends as quickly as it began, the sensation however lingers on your neck even long after.

“Fucking temptress”, he rasps and breaks away from you so he could submerge himself in the cold water. You try to regulate yourself in the time he is underwater, gulping vividly.

“Hah.”

You glance at Jungkook.

“What?”

“It’s what you get”, he says and turns his back to you so he could swim to the other end of the pool.

“Wow, you two are awful.”

“You started it. Don’t think we aren’t aware that you were posing.”

“I wasn’t posing!” (You were).

“Mhm sure, that’s why you made sure that the silhouette of your boobs was on full display and the sunlight hit them just right.”

He reached the end of the pool, disappearing behind the waterfall. There was an era behind it where one can sit on a natural stone and overlook the pool. You swim to it.

“Fine, you got me. That still doesn’t give you guys the right to be like that.”

Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back as he spreads on the stone cockily. When he sits like this, with his legs spread and his muscular arms open, he looks so masculine and sexy. You just wanna fucking sit on him.

“Tell yourself that.”

“Tell yourself what?” Yoongi dives up next to you, keeping his distance so you wouldn’t kick each other as you swam.

“___ is complaining because we teased her.”

“Yeah, not happening. You lost the right to complain when you undressed like that”, Yoongi says.

“Wow, I’m surrounded by horndogs.”

Yoongi chuckles, “not horndogs. Ripper, we’ve got the tendency to have a short fuse”, he flirts, flickering his eyes red in sync with Jungkook showing off his fangs in a lopsided smirk and a little growl.

“Jesus”, you let out, diving under the water so they wouldn’t see the utter flusteredness they make you feel. You hear their laughter above water. It reaches your ears distorted.

Once you dive up again, Yoongi is sitting next to Jungkook, spread out just as masculine and sexy. They are ravishing you with their eyes, genuinely making you feel giddy.

“We left you a seat between us, princess”, Yoongi says.

“Join us, babygirl”, Jungkook adds, patting the stone where your back will rest.

“Shut up”, you mumble and claim the spot between them. You have one arm of Yoongi’s and one of Jungkook’s behind you. One thigh of each of them touches your legs. You squirm a little, heart racing in your chest.

“You’re so cute”, Jungkook chuckles deeply, relaxing back with his head falling against the stone.

“Mhm, the fucking cutest”, Yoongi agrees in an amused purr, mirroring his position with closed eyes.

Their pointer fingers rub your shoulders mindlessly, making you shiver.

“Whatever”, you mumble, trying your hardest to relax. It is really difficult at first, but gets easier when time passes and they limit their touches to the soft caresses of your shoulders. It is perfect and addicting to be together. You can flirt and tease each other, follow it up with moments of relaxation and both states will be as addicting as the other.

The flirting lasted the perfect amount of time, making the relaxation which follows all the more wonderful.

Like this, you cool off, sheltering from the bright sun. You stay in the water until your teeth begin to clatter. Yoongi and Jungkook could stay longer, because their temperature regulation works differently.

“I’m gonna go, I’m chilly”, you tell them.

“I’ll join you”, Yoongi says, pushing himself off the stone.

“Wait for me”, Jungkook joins as well.

He leaves the pool first, waiting by the stairs for you so he could hold your hand.

“Well, thank you”, you say.

“Anything for you”, he says, giving your hand a kiss when you are outside.

Yoongi places a towel over your shoulders.

“Oh? Wow, thanks”, you chuckle.

“Of course, princess”, he says softly, kissing your shoulder before he takes a step back and hands Jungkook his towel.

“No thanks, I need to take advantage of the water on my skin. It’s so cooling.”

“Alright, I’ll take it”, Yoongi says and wraps the towel around his torso instead.

Jungkook rests his weight on one foot, making his hip stick out naturally, and runs his hands through his hair.

“What did you get at the bazaar?” he asks.

“Many things. Lots of snacks for you.”

“Nice, snacks.”

“And jewellery and clothes for me.”

“Oh nice, can I see?”

“Yes of course.”

“She’s beautiful in all of them”, Yoongi says, walking back inside. You can still converse because only curtains separate you from the courtyard and the living room.

“I can imagine”, Jungkook agrees, following him inside.

“You guys are so sweet”, you say, right behind them.

“Did you get something too, hyungie?”

“Just ingredients for dinner.”

“That doesn’t count. Did you get a treat too?”

“The only treat I need is to spoil you two. Excuse me for a moment, I need to change and put the groceries in the fridge. Fuck, I hope the heat didn’t spoil them”, he says and disappears in the inner area of the mansion.

“I think he has a kink for spoiling us”, you say, sinking into the comfortable floor pillows.

Jungkook lies down next to you on his side and with his head supported by his propped up arm. You feed him a grape and eat one yourself.

“I think so too”, he agrees.

“What do you think of it?”

You feed him another grape, enjoying one yourself. He chews and swallows it before he answers you.

“You want my honesty?”

“Yeah.”

“I think we should play into it.”

You scoff, “what do you mean?”

Jungkook looks over his shoulder to make sure that Yoongi isn’t listening in. He sits up and closes the distance, whispering sweetly against your neck.

“He’s a tease and he knows it. He buys us all this stuff…” He dances his fingers over your thigh. “…takes us on these expensive trips…” His hand disappears under your towel. “…feeds us the highest quality food…” He moves his fingers through your folds.

“Kook”, you gasp, chasing him instantly but he pulls back and licks his fingers in his flirtatious attempt to showcase the high quality food he gets to eat because of Yoongi. You moan softly, gazing at his lips.

Jungkook purrs and slips his fingers free, dancing them on your thigh again. You are face to face, so close to kiss.

“I think we should do something for him. Show him that we’re grateful.”

“And you had to tell me your plan like this, because?” you get out.

His lips curl into a flirty grin, his eyes lower playfully. He shrugs his shoulders, scrunching his nose.

“You’re worse than Yoongi”, you mumble, looking away because otherwise you might get lost in his eyes forever.

Jungkook chuckles and kisses your shoulder before he rolls away from you and stands up. He struts to the shopping bags confidently and bends down to rummage through them. You roll onto your stomach, watching him. When he bends down like this, every inch of him looks delicious, but your eyes are naturally lingering on his muscular thighs and sculpted butt. He is already completely dry by now, except for his hair. Shit, you could eat him up. He is so handsome. To think that he is yours.

“Wow, the stuff you got is so pretty.”

“Right? Do you wanna see it on?”

“Just a few things.”

“Okay?”

Jungkook stands up with a few things in his hands, strutting back to you.

“Kook, did you get the bikini?”

“Just the panties.”

He hands them to you. He squats down, looking down at you with darkened eyes. Your crane your neck, gulping. He is so big, so muscular and his cock…it’s just there, so ready to be devoured. Still soft and relaxed, tempting you to work it until he is hard.

“Put them on, baby”, he tells you in a rasp.

“What?” you get out, looking into his eyes.

“The panties. Put them on.”

“Oh. Okay”, you can only whisper, scrambling to your feet as quickly as possible. Ever since Jungkook has control over his instincts, he has become the biggest and sexiest flirt ever. Sometimes being in the same room as him and Yoongi is like torture. “Fuck, I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

You put them on just as Jungkook slips into his own small, oh so tight briefs. They hold his cock in place in such a mouthwatering way. Once dressed, he reveals his open palm to you and the jewellery he has in it. He is sitting again. You sit down as well.

“May I?”

“Yeah.”

He climbs behind you, kneeling. He touches you with his empty hand, kissing your shoulder as he feels you up all the way from your hip to your chest. You arch into his touch, hoping that he will take these last few inches and touch your nipple.

But the touch never comes. Instead, he guides it to your back and pulls away so he could place the necklace around you. It sits perfectly between your tits, accentuating the curves of them. Jungkook traces it, claiming your neck in a kiss in sync with his fingers pinching your nipple.

“Shit, ah”, you let out, shuddering as a bolt of pleasure shoots through.

He doesn’t let the touch linger for long, crawling to the front and kneeling right between your legs. He presents a second necklace to you, pleading you with puppy eyes.

“Please?”

“You’re so hot”, you get out and rip it out of his hand, getting on your knees as well so you can place it around his neck.

He rolls his head back, closing his eyes. You can’t resist. The necklace is on his body, but you can’t stay back. You connect your tongue with his abs and drag it all the way up to his neck. You make sure to include his nipple and end it by tugging on the piercings on his ear with your teeth. Your fingers are spread on his pecs, thumbs rubbing his nipples.

“Fuck, baby”, he purrs, grabbing your hips possessively. Your skins collide in a naked, loud slap.

“Mine”, you rasp, putting distance between your bodies. He should feel how it is to be teased.

He looks at you, eyes hazy and head tilted to the side in an almost predatory way. As if he was a hunter waiting for its prey to make the wrong move. You practically fuck him with your eyes, entire body tense from holding back.

“Ah crap! My bracelet”, Yoongi curses loudly somewhere in the mansion, ripping you and Jungkook out of your trance.

You and he blink your eyes.

“So uhm, what were we doing exactly?” Jungkook asks, breaking some of the tension this way.

You laugh, he reciprocates.

“I think we were trying to show Yoongi our gratitude.”

“Yeah right. Fuck ___, I might need to bend you over tonight. If you let me.”

“Ever since you are spending more time with Tae, you are saying the worst things for my mental health.”

Jungkook laughs deeply, “Tae’s shocked just as much as you. You should stop underestimating me. I know what I’m saying.”

“Kook, please.”

He chuckles and stands up, offering you his hand.

“Come, let’s find Yoongi.”

You take it gladly, letting him pull you to your feet.

He claims you for just a second. Arm around your waist and hand on your ass, he leans down to kiss your neck sensually. You sigh, leaning into him with your hands on his chest. He flexes it just for you.

“Mine”, he purrs, squeezing your butt.

You swear that your knees actually buckle. He steps back and takes your hand.

“Now seriously, let’s find Yoongi.”

“What’s your plan anyway?” you ask, trying to follow as best as possible. He’s got you a little wobbly.

Jungkook tells you his plan as you look for Yoongi and needless to say, it leaves you dizzy.

You find Yoongi in the bedroom. His back is turned to you as he is busy sorting through his jewellery collection.

“Yoongi bear?”

He lifts his head.

“Yes, babygirl?” he acknowledges you, turning. His face falls, his eyes widen. “What the fuck?”

You and Jungkook close the distance in sensual steps. Yoongi is lost for words, eyes switching between your barely clothed body and Jungkook’s equally as bared body.

“We’ve been thinking. You’re always treating us so well, but we’ve never really shown you how grateful we actually are.”

You stand before Yoongi while Jungkook rounds him. He snakes his arms around him, lips claiming his neck and hands tracing his clothed stomach.

One might think that Yoongi would be tense at first, but that is not the case. Yoongi rolls his head to the side and closes his eyes halfway. They lower even more when you touch his chest.

“Can we show you how grateful we are?”

“You don’t gotta show me. I do it gladly”, he rasps.

“I know. You’ve got a kink for it, don’t you?”

He tenses up, grabbing your wrists. Bingo. You smirk, Jungkook smiles against Yoongi’s neck.

“We’ve got a kink for it too. Look at the diamonds on our skin. We dressed each other.”

“You did?” Yoongi rasps, breathing heavily. His grip on your wrists falters.

“We did and it made us so needy. You treat us so well, Yoongi love.” You giggle as you think of your next words, speaking them with a flirty sparkle in your eyes, “thank you for treating us so well, Daddy love.”

“Babies”, Yoongi moans, eyes rolling back sensually and body melting into Jungkook. “Fuck, don’t call me that.”

You exchange a triumphant look with the latter, holding hands for a brief second. You got Yoongi under your spell. Now all that is left to do is make him feel good. Not just emotionally but physically too.

“Wanna get somewhere more comfortable?” Jungkook suggests, rasping the words against Yoongi’s ear.

“Whatever you want, babyboy”, Yoongi speaks in his Domspace voice. It’s one of his sexiest voices.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

“Yeah okay, babyboy.”

Yoongi lets you and Jungkook lie him down in bed. The three of you have been sharing it ever since you came here. Yoongi gave each of you your own bedroom, but he forgot that he is basically dating two catch weeds of people who are stuck to him as much as possible. Not that he minds. He made sure the beds were big enough for three.

He lies down in the very middle of it, eyes switching between your face and Jungkook’s. You and he are kneeling on all fours, looking down at him. The necklaces are tangling, your tits look so sexy like this and Jungkook’s pecs look huge. Yoongi doesn’t think about labels, he doesn’t define himself as a sexuality, but he knows whatever he is, it’s this right here. Pretty girl tits and muscular boy tits. That’s his sexuality. You and Jungkook with your pretty tits and expensive necklaces around your necks.

“Thank you for treating us so well”, you say and lower your lips to his neck.

Yoongi purrs, rolling his head to the side. A necklace traces the side of his face while your soft lips worship his neck. He opens his eyes, coming face to face with Jungkook’s pecs as the latter guides the necklace over Yoongi’s features. He shivers, letting out a breathy sigh as his long fingers close around a bundle of the sheets.

“Is this nice?” Jungkook asks, tracing Yoongi’s cheek.

“Yeah”, Yoongi croaks, tilting his head and parting his lips.

“I feel so handsome with the jewellery you buy us. You treat us so well.”

“So well, so fucking well”, you agree, lips nibbling on his most sensitive spot.

Yoongi moans softly, eyes going hazy. He knew that he was feeling a certain itch ever since the morning, but didn’t think he needed it scratched so fucking bad. You and Jungkook might joke around with him a lot, but you’ve got one thing right. Yoongi has the biggest kink for spending money on you. The bigger the purchase, the better. The wider your smiles, the deeper the satisfaction. The brighter the sparkle in your eyes, the hotter burns the fire in his stomach.

Yoongi has been burning ever since he took you on this insanely expensive trip and fulfilled your every wish. Waking up this morning to the sounds of you and Jungkook having breakfast in the courtyard, chatting about how much you loved this trip almost made Yoongi want to jerk off to your conversation. But he held back, forced his cock to stay soft and joined you, acting as if everything was alright.

He can’t hold back anymore. You and Jungkook smell like the expensive scents he got you, the sounds of the necklaces moving are in his ears and your words are paradise. He can’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck, you feel so good”, he gets out, arching his back once.

“Yoongi…” you mewl, teeth nibbling on his pierced ear. He’s got a thing for that.

Jungkook guides the necklace down to Yoongi’s jawline, tracing the curve of it. Goosebumps follow in its wake. Yoongi is hazy.

He ogles Jungkook’s nipples hungrily. The latter understands instantly, scooting closer so Yoongi could lick him.

“Babyboy”, Yoongi croaks, claiming what is his.

“Ah, yes”, Jungkook moans, dropping his head to the front.

You lift your lips from Yoongi’s ear, wanting to check what was happening. Yoongi uses the freedom to put his arm around Jungkook and pull him closer. His lips close around his nipple, sucking eagerly.

“Oh god”, Jungkook croaks, scrunching his face.

“You two are so sexy”, you get out and sit up. You can’t reach Yoongi’s neck like this, but that is okay. He has a body to explore instead.

You put your hands on his torso, guiding your touch over his stomach. He follows it with an arch and a deep purr in his chest. He changes nipples with Jungkook, pressing out a raspy “fuck.”

You learned that Yoongi likes it when you touch him over his clothes. His skin is sensitive enough for it. When you or Jungkook run your skilled hands over his clothed body, Yoongi is a goner. Today it is especially bad. He is shivering like crazy, soaking up the sensations greedily. Your hands are so hot in temperature, he is fucking burning up.

“You’re so strong, my love. God Kook, isn’t he just perfect? He’s treating us so well and he’s strong so he can protect us.”

“Yeah, so strong”, Jungkook agrees in a breathy sigh, face glowing in pleasure. His voice is just a little submissive. You tingle because of it. Look at him getting subby because Yoongi is sucking his nipples. Granted, you know how sensitive his nipples are, so you aren’t particularly surprised.

“Our strong, perfect Yoongi”, you purr, slipping your fingers to Yoongi’s nipples. The latter arches into your touch, lips slipping from Jungkook’s swollen nipple because his head rolls to the front as he gasps in surprise.

Jungkook feels edged, needing a few deep breaths to collect himself again. Once he does, his eyes instantly flit to your hands, wanting to see what makes Yoongi react like this.

You are pinching and rolling his nipples over the shirt. Hungry eyes gazing at his sculpted chest.

“Fuck, babygirl”, Yoongi gets out breathily.

“Does that feel good to you?”

“Yeah…”

Jungkook scoots closer and lowers his head. You let him, watching in delight as he wraps his mouth around Yoongi’s nipple, clothing and all.

“Kook”, Yoongi moans, grabbing a bundle of his damp hair. “Shit, that’s…ahm fuck…”

Jungkook mewls around him, sucking and licking eagerly. His thighs rub together needily, searching for any kind of relief.

“Fuck…Kook…”

You can’t do this. You have to join. You lower your lips to his other nipple, taking it inside, clothing and all.

Yoongi arches his back, grabbing a bundle of your damp hair as well. He growls, but ends it in a soft whimper, back dropping again and hips rolling against nothing.

Yoongi had an itch this morning, which he didn’t know he needed scratched so bad. That much he was aware of. But he wasn’t aware of how much he needed that scratch to be attention. Of course a quick, rough jerk off session could have done the job just fine, but fuck, this is so much better. The sensations are insane, the play with temperatures is leaving him dizzy. Your mouths are so wet and hot, leaving his shirt soaked and whenever you pull back for air the wet spot cools down. Sometimes you even help with it by blowing on it, forcing his body to shudder and his nipples to swell.

You tap Jungkook’s shoulder. Yoongi is too far gone to notice, eyes closed and lips parted in breathy moans.

“Hm?” Jungkook lets out, lifting his eyes to look at you.

You demonstrate what you were doing and how Yoongi reacts in shivers. Jungkook understands instantly, doing what you did. He blows on Yoongi’s soaked shirt and you do the same. Yoongi arches his back, hands slipping from your hair to instead grab your butts.

“Babies, you…urgh fuck.”

“That’s nice isn’t it?”

“So fucking nice”, Yoongi sighs, following it with a purr when you and Jungkook take his swollen nipples back into your warm mouths. You suck on it, while Jungkook licks. The play with different sensations makes Yoongi scrunch his nose in bliss. Your hands on his stomach do the rest. You are so eager in exploring him. Yoongi feels alive.

It took him a lot of time to built trust with you and Jungkook. It wasn’t your faults, but his own. He has issues with touch, that much has been clear since the very start. You and Jungkook worked around it at first and slowly, oh so slowly, made him comfortable. These days, Yoongi couldn’t imagine any other reality. To feel your touch, to experience every sensation and change of temperature is what he lives for when he is with you and Jungkook.

“Can I have more?” he asks raspily.

You and Jungkook lift your heads, exchanging a look. You are sharing the same thought. Yoongi is so hot.

“More?” You scoot up and lay down on your side, draping your arm over his chest. “What are you thinking? Mhm?”

Yoongi is lost in your eyes, hazy and foggy and so turned on.

“Touch my cock.”

“Fuck, you’re hot.”

“I can’t help it. I’m….” He lowers his eyes shyly. “...I’m horny.”

“Mhm good” you say, biting his neck gently before sitting up. Jungkook mirrors your position, waiting with a tingly chest for you to pull Yoongi’s pants down. You make sure to take the briefs as well.

Yoongi’s swollen cock springs free instantly, leaking on his shirt.

“Urgh fuck”, he gets out through gritted teeth, writhing on the sheets.

“You’re so hard”, Jungkook moans, eyes widening in hunger.

“You drive me insane.”

“We do?”

“Yeah, every fucking second. Shit, I’m so into spending money on you”, Yoongi finally confesses, almost whimpering the words. “It turns me on so much.”

“Oh Yoongi”, you say, wrapping your hand around his cock to pump it slowly.

“___ baby”, Yoongi moans loudly, throwing his head back and gripping the sheets.

“Is that doing something for you?”

“Yeah, holy fuck.”

“You’ve got the sexiest cock. Remember all the times he made us cum on it, Kookie?”

“I do, yeah”, Jungkook gets out, gulping hungrily.

“Remember, Yoongi?”

“Fuck just…touch me, stop teasing, you temptress”, he gets out in a hiss. He means no harm in it. He just gets too sensitive when you talk about how good he treats you in bed because his kink for showering his two babies in anything you want goes deeper than just material goods. He wants to see you satisfied in every aspect of your lives. That includes the bedroom.

You giggle, fluttering your lashes at him. You slip your hand to his base, signalling Jungkook to take over as well. He wraps his hand around Yoongi’s tip, pumping it in a smooth rhythm.

“Fuck, that’s….” Yoongi resorts to moaning and kicking the mattress, fingers tugging on the sheets. There are no words to describe the amount of pleasure he feels. It infects his entire body, feeling strongest in his cock and his legs.

Your hand is playing with his balls while Jungkook is working his cock. There is no difference between the softness of your palms but there is in strength. Jungkook is touching him with so much pressure while you handle his balls so carefully. Jungkook is rough, you are tender. Yoongi loves every second of it.

“Hyungie, you’re leaking”, Jungkook says, picking up the translucent droplets to spread them.

“He is? Wow, yes. Look at it. Do you like it that much, love?” you coo, squeezing his balls gently.

“Stop talking please”, Yoongi begs, cock throbbing in Jungkook’s hand and leaking all over his fingers.

You chuckle, exchanging a playful look with Jungkook. It is so fun to work up Yoongi. You know how high he currently feels. His head is definitely pounding and each second feels like too much. He is so into this. You and Jungkook feel so proud of it.

“More Kookie. We should give him more.”

“You’re right. He deserves to feel as good as he always makes us feel.”

Jungkook wraps his other hand around Yoongi’s heavy cock, jerking off him like this. You slide your other hand to his nipple, playing with it over his shirt. The fabric is still wet, sticking to his chest. The touch is so easy like this.

Yoongi yelps out an ecstatic “ah!” and lifts his hips off the sheets. Throaty but pitched mewls follow, his hips just kind of stay in the air as he chases Jungkook’s two handed touch.

His balls tighten in your hand. You squeeze down on them, thumb rubbing circles with just enough pressure to send hot pleasure down his legs and up his cock. Jungkook times it with skilled touches. He keeps his right hand around his tip, circling it slowly while he pumps his left hand around his shaft vigorously.

“I’m cumming”, Yoongi gets out, following it with a desperate growl.

“Don’t hold back”, you encourage him, pinching his nipple.

“Please cum for us”, Jungkook says, massaging his tip.

“Babies!” Yoongi yelps, breaking in your hands a second later. He shoots his white cream up his own chest, ruining his shirt with it. His moans are deep and drawn out, you and Jungkook moan with him, doing your very best to give him the best fucking orgasm he had in a long time.

And oh how successful you are, how Yoongi is shaking and trembling. The itch is finally scratched and fuck it hits so goddamn hard, Yoongi swears that he can see new colours behind his closed lids.

The comedown is electric. You and Jungkook are so eager, overstimulating Yoongi to the point he laughs panickedly, fingers grabbing your hands.

“Stop it, enough.”

“Sorry, we just love to touch you so much”, you say, releasing him of his torture. You lie down beside him, kissing his heated neck while your fingers play with the cum on his chest.

Jungkook lies down on the other side of Yoongi, playing with the cum on his stomach and sucking on his neck slowly.

Yoongi enjoys the affection with closed eyes and his hands running along your hips and butts. His palms are sweaty from keeping them clenched around the sheets for so long. His heavy rings feel rough on your skin in comparison to his soft palms.

“How was that?” you ask him, chasing his touch in slow rolls of your hips.

“Better than anything”, Yoongi lulls his words as if he was drunk.

“Did you like it?” Jungkook asks.

“So fucking much.”

You and Jungkook giggle, snuggling closer. Yoongi smiles fondly, soaking up the sound. He is so happy when he is with you and Jungkook. There is no other life for him. Only what he has with you and him.

“Can I just fucking ask what kinda devils possessed you to do that to me?”

“Does there have to be a reason for us to wanna make you cum?”

“I guess not.”

“Mhm, correct”, you nibble on his ear playfully, “but if you really wanna know. It’s because we wanna thank you for treating us to all of these nice things.”

“It makes me happy.”

“Mhm and turns you on”, Jungkook adds, biting his jawline gently.

Yoongi gives his butt a warning spank, doing the same to you as well when you snicker mischievously.

“And if it does?” he challenges.

“Nothing, we like it.”

Yoongi chuckles, “fuck, you two. I’m done for. I wanted to start with dinner.”

“Dinner can wait. You’re getting cuddled”, Jungkook says, slipping his hand under Yoongi’s shirt to feel up his stomach.

“In this heat? Are you surviving that, bun?”

“We can take a swim later.”

“Right and tease ___ again.”

“Right, we could.”

"Hey, not cool. Don’t gang up on me.”

Yoongi and Jungkook chuckle. You join them a second later, snuggling into Yoongi. Yoongi sighs happily, pulling you and Jungkook closer. He relaxes his body, melting even more when both you and Jungkook drape one leg over him. He is completely buried under you and Jungkook and it’s heaven to him.

“Shit, you two. What would I do without you, mhm?”

“Mhhhm, probably not lie in Morocco with your stomach messy from an orgasm because of a super epic handjob.”

Yoongi scoffs in amusement, smiling to himself.

“Super epic handjob?”

“Yeah, obviously. We made you arch your back.”

Yoongi laughs, squeezing you and Jungkook.

“Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t do that.”

He isn’t a clingy person, but with his two loves he can’t get enough. This is truly heaven.

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birbbones · 9 months ago

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So I'm not the one to ask for help so I've been very hesitant on sharing, but got some news last week that I will be homeless by June (and no, this is not an awful april fools joke, I am panicking here).

Some of you in the vulture culture community know last week and a bit ago I had an accident resulting in losing consciousness, breaking my neck, and experiencing a seizure for the first time. I've been having ongoing brain issues (we removed a lot of cerebral fluid in December that was causing increased pressure and testing the fluid to rule out infection, diagnosed with IIH), and last month I've been having heart issues.

Referrals have been made to a cardiology specialist, as well as the first fit clinic. But it's looking like I will probably have to go private to get listened to / get the care I need ASAP. Couple with the fact I will be homeless by June, it's a really terrifying situation. I have contacted local councils, independent living schemes, shelter, private landlords etc and feel like I've been let down. I'm awaiting a doctors appointment with a NHS advisor on the 10th, where I'll be showing them my list of resources I've used, and to see if they are able to help find anything.

I reluctantly made a justgiving page, on the advice of my friends, and while I hate asking for help, I am honestly quite scared and uncertain about my future.

If anyone can share the link, reblog this post, or even donate some change. It would mean a lot.

Thank you for your time, I'm sorry for posting this here but I don't know what else to do. I will be continuing to work on the skull index, as its such big passion project of mine along with the help of my team. Its a great distraction.

#vulture culture #justgiving #birb rambles #signal boost #please boost

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 year ago

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Just A Little Bit of Your Heart

ship: Azriel x Reader type: angst word count: 2,4k warnings: curse words, mentions of a one night stand, unexpected pregnancy summary: It was just a one night stand, or that is what you thought... fic masterlist

"The baby will have wings!"

Your hands tremble. And they tremble so much the plate you are holding slips out them, and then shatters when it hits the floor. Splinters fly everywhere, but your best friend is quick to shove you away.

She is faster than you, gently shoving you away before you can lean down to collect the shards. "Not in your current state! Let me do this."

You huff. "I am pregnant, not fragile or ill," you say, still dried tears on your cheeks, and more burning behind your eyes.

"Yes, with a winged baby, because this fool did not pay attention." There is so much fury inside of your best friend, you have never seen this side of her before, her voice drips with venom.

"For making a baby it always needs two people. I am not innocent in this." You crouch down and help your best friend collect the shards of broken glass and—

"Fuck!" You lift your index finger to your mouth, licking the droplet of blood away.

"I told you to let me do this, you are hurting yourself and—" "And what? They baby will still have wings and I will still be pregnant. I just cut my finger, nothing dramatic."

You swallow thickly, slumping onto the ground. You immediately regret your tone and snapping at your best friend. She only wants to help and be there for you…

But it is so much to deal with and then the hormones just intensify everything you are feeling.

The fear, the apprehension about the baby having with wings and the prospect of having to raise the child by yourself, should you survive the birth, finally reach the surface. You tried hide these emotion for so long, but now you fail — they all bubble up, overwhelming you.

You lean against the kitchen counter behind you, pulling your knees up and fold your hands over your face.

Then the damn breaks, tears running out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you sob into your hands.

"I am so scared," you bawl.

Your best friend has already scooted over, careful of the broken pieces of porcelain, and wraps her arm around your shoulders. She pulls you to her chest, letting you cry into her shirt. "I know that the babe has wings, the healer confirmed it. And I am just working in this little shop, I don't earn enough to take care of the child alone."

Your tears wet her shirt, and your best friend holds you tightly, her hand clasping your upper arm. She is becoming your anchor, the only thing you can hold onto in this moment.

"It was so foolish. He said he took the tonic. I also drank the tea the same morning, and neither of those things worked. Conceiving for fae is so difficult, why…"

Your voice breaks and you can't finish your sentence, your throat is dry, burns and the back of your mouth aches.

"It wasn't foolish. You were both careful, and it just happened." Your best friend's voice is softer now, although inside of her a burning fire of fury about the shadowsinger putting a baby that could harm you inside of you. It could cost you your life and she would never forgive him for that.

You exhale a long breath when you lift your head a little, still leaning onto your friend. You rest your head against her shoulder, staring at the window opposite you.

A veil of grey is being drawn over the sky, dark clouds passing by — rain is about to start. You keep staring at the window, sitting in silence as the first raindrops start to fall, landing gently on the window pane. You watch as the rain intensifies, and the sky darkens further until heavy rain pours down and wind whips agains the windows and the walls of the apartment building you are living in.

The atmosphere outside mirrors the whirlwind inside of you, the storm brewing there, the cold and gloomx atmosphere.

There are so many emotions. And these emotions, mostly fear and nervousness, mingle with the hormones that actually make you so very happy that your are growing a little babe inside of you, but at the dame time so sad that the child will have to grow up without a father.

The whole previous evening you spent staring at your round belly in the mirror, sobbing silently to yourself.

With the big wool sweaters you always wear the belly is barely visible, but when naked, one can obviously see the growing bump.

You best friend draws in a deep inhale and leans her head against the top of yours.

"You need to talk to him," she says in a soft voice. "And before you protest, I say so because first of all, he has a right to know. And secondly, and most importantly, he might be able to help you."

You sniff loudly. "How should he help me?"

"The High Lord, who he is close with, has a son with wings. And our High Lady is also only fae, so there must be a possibility."

"What if he wants nothing to do with me?"

"Then you at least tried."

"Don't you think I will only be hurt more?"

You lift your head to look at her. There is a small smile on her lips, one that conveys support and warmth, her eyes shining with empathy.

She shakes her head. "You still have me. I won't leave you alone with this. I never would. But you still have to tell him."

You don't want to do it, you don't want to face Azriel, don't want to tell him, but you know she is right. You have to do it. He has a right to know.

This was a one night stand.

You somehow caught the male's attention in a small bar in Velaris, and somehow he ended up in your bed. When you woke up, Azriel slipped into his trousers and out of your flat within a few moments. He was gone without a word, disappeared into the shadows, and you haven't heard from him since. You don't even know how to contact him.

You don't know where he lives? Does he live with the High Lord? Or in this huge house on the mountain? With the general of the Illyrian armies and his mate?

"I don't know what to say to him," you whisper.

The rain outside intensifies. Your friend uncurls her arm from around your shoulder, bringing it forward so she can clasp your hand in hers.

She places a soft kiss to the top of your head and in a calm voice she says, "Tell him what you told me. That you don't understand how it happened and that you are afraid and want nothing more than his help."

"What if I want more than that?" You bite back a sob and turn your head a little.

"What if I want a little part of his heart. For the baby. If it—if we survive this, I want my baby to have a father. I want my baby to know its father." A single tear slips our of your eye and your friend quickly wipes it away with her thumb.

"That is something to think about in the future. You need to think about yourself now, sweetie. You matter now, everything else is open for the future."

You nod, trying to agree with her, but the thoughts about the possibility of the baby never meeting its father are gnawing on you.

And they keep gnawing on you the whole night where you lie awake, shifting and turning, your back aching, and tears still wetting your cheeks and pillow.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Cold sweat coats your back, your palms. Your knees wobble, and your whole body trembles as you lift your hand, drawing in a deep inhale. Then another. And another. Your hand rests on the cool door handle, but you can't bring yourself to pull it down.

He really came.

You can hardly believe it. He got your letter, and he is truly here. Until a few moments ago, you doubted it. You did not think he would really follow your invite. You were very vague in your letter, only mentioned that if he remembers you you would have something important to discuss with him. It could have been a trap, but he must have recognised the urgency in your wording, must habe known he could trust you.

Drawing in another breath, you finally pull down the handle and your lips part as your eyes land on him.

He is…still the most beautiful male you have ever seen in your life, covered in darkness and shadows, expression stoic, eyes glowing with curiosity.

But he came!

"You came," you whisper, voice trembling.

Your heart beats in your throat, hammering so fast and hard you think it might burst right through your ribcage.

It was just a one-night stand, a fleeting moment of passion, but you still remember him so vividly. How he touched you, how he kissed you, how he held you. And how he left. You felt used and sad after it, but you shouldn't have. Both of you only wanted fun for a night, but still it somehow hurt when he left.

"You called." His voice is flat, no emotion in it as he speaks. His face is not necessarily cold, but nonchalant, emotionless.

Azriel is nothing but darkness as he stands there, shadows swirling around him, stretching out towards you.

He eyes you closely, jaw clenched slightly.

You barely know him, only know his body, but he is now connected to you in the most profound way possible. You carry a part of him inside of you. Your child. His child.

Azriel's face is a mask of unreadable emotions, some clouds darken his eyes and you can’t tear your eyes away from his.

"I wasn't sure you if you—" "I do remember you."

Something, some unreadable emotion passes over his face, and a muscle in his jaw ticks. His hands, those scarred hands you felt all over your body, are folded behind his back, and he stands in a stance, almost like he is ready to fight whatever is about to come. A stern warrior, and not the passionate male you lay with.

"Come in?" you say, your voice trembling slightly as you step aside to let him enter. Azriel hesitates, but eventually he walks in, gaze wary as it sweeps through the inside of your room. He is looking for possible danger, making sure the place is safe and you can't blame him for it. Your invite must have sound cryptic, he is careful and that is alright.

"Why did you invite me?" Azriel asks, finally speaking up and taking the weight from your shoulder to open the conversation.

You are wringing for the right words to explain it all as you lead him over to the kitchen counter. You lean against it, your gaze moving to his eyes.

You drop your glamour, and try to hold his gaze, but suddenly Azriel starts to sniff the air, his brows furrowing as he looks around him. It almost looks like understanding dawns on him, whirlwinds of emotions glowing in his eyes. He must sense it in this moment.

"I am with child!" you blurt out.

The words are so loud in the room, they bounce off the walls and hollow through the room. Through your mind, making you feel dizzy for a second.

You move your hand over your round belly, smoothing out the sweater, to show him the bump.

The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the sound of your own ragged breaths.

Azriel says nothing, his face pales, his shoulders slump, and his whole expression and posture crumbles.

He blinks, as if trying to process what you have just revealed. Although his face is unreadable, you can see the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface.

"Is it mine?" he asks and you want to face-palm him. You would do it, if it were under different circumstances.

"Of course, it is yours. The babe has wings!"

The tone you have chosen wasn't alright, he could not have known, you could have been with other males…but why would you invite him and tell him then?

This revelation shatters him truly. Azriel begins to vehemently shake his head, like he can feel the weight of what the baby having wings means.

"No," he whispers, and then repeats the word over and over again. He brings a hand up, brushes his hair back and shakes his head again. "No, that can't be. You took the tonic, I did too. How did that happen?"

"I also don't have an explanation, I only know that I am with child now. A baby with wings." Your chin quivers, lower lip starting to tremble. You feel how your body begins to shake, blood rushing in your ears.

"And I am afraid."

Once again the damn breaks, and a sob rips itself free.

Azriel says nothing, just stands there.

"I understand that it is a lot to take in, that this is difficult, but I needed to tell you."

You suck in a sharp breath, your tears tasting salty in your mouth. "I just thought you deserved to know. It was a one-night stand, and I never planned for any of this to happen, but it did, and I can't keep it a secret from you."

You feel so vulnerable in this moment, your heart cracking open, everything inside you convulsing.

It somehow angers you that he says nothing, but you had more time to deal with the newly learned information, he only found out now. Maybe he just needs more time to process.

"I don't know what to say," he admits, his voice softer, and for the first time he lets his own emotions show, vulnerability flashing brightly in his eyes. "This is... unexpected. Overwhelming."

You nod, biting down on your lower lip. With the back of your hand you wipe away some tears.

"I don't expect anything from you, I just…if the baby and I survive this, all I am asking for is a little bit of your heart. Not for me, for the babe."

Your voice is so terribly shaky, tears welling up in your eyes again as you try to hold his gaze. "I didn't expect it either," you whisper, wiping away a tear. "But I want the baby to know its father. If it ever comes to that."

Azriel is the one to suck in a breath now, the weight of his own childhood crashing down on him. Everything, every little pain when he was a child, bubbles up inside of him and his body starts to shake.

The room is filled with a heavy silence once more. It feels like the walls are moving in on you, the room growing smaller and smaller, almost suffocating you.

As you wait for his response, your heart still races, but now it's not just with fear. There's a glimmer of hope, a spark of possibility that maybe, just maybe, he will grant you this wish and be a father for the child if it comes to that.

"We are going to see my healer, the High Lord's healer. She knows about wings, she knows about babes with wings. You are not alone in this."

Azriel's steps are so fast, so unexpected, he hesitates for a moment, but suddenly his arms wrap around your shoulders and he embraces you tightly, his chin coming to a rest on top of your head.

"I am not leaving you alone in this. It comes as a shock and I am sorry about my reaction, but this child is as much mine as it is yours, and it will have a part of my heart." His arm wraps around you tighter. "It will have my whole heart."

He swallows, his chest heaving with a deep inhale and your curl your own arms around him, loud sobs ripping themselves free, muffled in the fabric of his shirt. "And so will you."

~~~~~~~~~~ tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

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

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macgyvermedical · 1 month ago

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Transgender Friendly States

This is a map made by journalist Erin Reed (https://www.erininthemorning.com/). It shows the legislative risk to trans people by state. It's been going around tumblr recently, and for good reason.

I wanted to make a post comparing the type of information you might need if you're considering making a move following the election. The following includes the cost of living index, the climate risk, the median rent, the minimum wage, and the shift in voting pattern between the 2020 and 2024 election for each "Safest States with Strong Protections" (dark blue on map above).

State: California

*Cost of Living: 134.5% of US average

Climate Risk: Moderate

Median Rent: $1,856

Minimum Wage: $16/hr (116 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 8 points redder

State: Colorado

*Cost of Living: 105.5% of US average

Climate Risk: Low

Median Rent: $1,594

Minimum Wage: $14.42/hr (110.5 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 2 points redder

State: Connecticut

*Cost of Living: 113.1% of US average

Climate Risk: Low

Median Rent: $1,374

Minimum Wage: $15.69 (87.5 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 5 points redder

State: Illinois

*Cost of Living: 90.8% of US average

Climate Risk: Moderate

Median Rent: $1,179

Minimum Wage: $14/hr (84 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 7 points redder

State: Hawaii

*Cost of Living: 179% of US average

Climate Risk: Low

Median Rent: $1,868

Minimum Wage: $14/hr (133 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 6 points redder

State: Maine

*Cost of Living: 111.5% of US average

Climate Risk: Low

Median Rent: $1,009

Minimum Wage: $14.15/hr (71 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 2 points redder

State: Maryland

*Cost of Living: 119.5% of US average

Climate Risk: Low

Median Rent: $1,598

Minimum Wage: $15/hr (106 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 6 points redder

State: Massachusetts

*Cost of Living: 148.4% of US average

Climate Risk: Moderate

Median Rent: $1,588

Minimum Wage: $15/hr (106 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 8 points redder

State: Minnesota

*Cost of Living: 94.1% of US average

Climate Risk: Low

Median Rent: $1,178

Minimum Wage: $10.85/hr (108 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 3 points redder

State: New Jersey

*Cost of Living: 114.1% of US average

Climate Risk: Moderate

Median Rent: $1,577

Minimum Wage: $15.13/hr (104 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 10 points redder

State: New Mexico

*Cost of Living: 94.2% of US average

Climate Risk: High

Median Rent: $966

Minimum Wage: $12/hr (80.5 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 5 points redder

State: New York

*Cost of Living: 125.1% of US average

Climate Risk: Moderate

Median Rent: $1,507

Minimum Wage: $15/hr (16/hr for NYC, Long Island, and Westchester), (100.5 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 11 points redder

State: Oregon

*Cost of Living: 115.1% of US average

Climate Risk: Low

Median Rent: $1,373

Minimum Wage: $16.70/hr (but it's complicated) (82 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 2 points redder

State: Rhode Island

*Cost of Living: 110.5% of US average

Climate Risk: Moderate

Median Rent: $1,195

Minimum Wage: $14/hr (85 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 7 points redder

State: Vermont

*Cost of Living: 114.9% of US average

Climate Risk: Low

Median Rent: $1,149

Minimum Wage: $13.67 (84 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 3 points redder

State: Washington

*Cost of Living: 115.1% of US average

Climate Risk: Low

Median Rent: $1,592

Minimum Wage: $16.28 (97 hours to make rent)

2020vs2024 Politics: Blue, went 0 points redder

*On this scale, 100% is the average COL across the USA. Numbers above 100% mean the state is more expensive than average. Numbers below 100% mean the state is less expensive to live in than average. Pennsylvania, Utah, and Nevada are the states closest to average. Hawaii, at 179% is the most expensive state. Mississippi, at 85.3% is the least expensive state to live in.

References: COL CR MR MW POL

#reference #transgender #maps #data #politics #LGBTQ

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elfwoodfae · 5 months ago

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“No sin, no sinners”.

Bane x reader

NSFW MDNI

When Alfred leaves there’s not enough prayers for how much you ask him to take you with him. Of course he couldn’t do it, and Bruce would never allow it. Even if he had no right over it, over you. A brother who was gone the majority of your life and only when he came back to play villains and hero’s to recluse himself for the better of seven years in a grief. Leaving you once again alone, as lonely as one can get with a living dead under your roof.

There’s no tears left by the time Alfred is gone. No more sorrows as Bruce decides is better to simply go face Bane alone, believing the word of Selena, the words of a woman who would trade him like he meant nothing for the safety of a false promise; and Bruce, in his anger his bitterness had accepted it, gone and left you, left you alone, his ego and cockiness probing to be fatal when he was taken down, when he leaves you behind, alone in the manor. No doubt Talia had already given Bane and his men the location of the house, the location of where you were.

It comes as no surprise when they break into the house. His men rough and menacing, grabbing you as they find you, no time to hide, no time to react as they grab you. One hand on your arm the other on your head as one of them, a man with blue eyes and a stubble, grabs you, pushing your head on the nearest table. A grunt of protest escaping your lips as you try to kick back in vain, the man lifts his radio to his mouth, a quick “we got her” is all he says before it all goes dark.

Most of his life had proven to be mistake after mistake brought on by a life of high egos and hard heads. Mistakes that he came to recognize now, as Bane holds him over his body, his knee about to collide with his back as his last words finally sink in. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your sister.”

Your head is fuzzy, throbbing, all around you is dark, the room is hot, and as much as you try to make sense barely anything seems familiar. The man standing by your feet looks down at you as you move, turning around as he speaks. “She is awake boss” he says, your eyes following the trace of his as they land on the figure crouching down on the floor. His back is the first thing you notice, big, wide, and imposing. A scar that looks deep runs from his neck to under the seam of his pants. He needs no introduction, you are more than sure of who he is. Bane. Bruce had rambled on about him, he had taken his strength for granted and it had costed him everything.

“I told Mr. Wayne you would be my most honored guest. And I intend to keep in my word.” He says, his index finger pointing at me, the tone of his voice, it borderlines in sarcasm and the resonance of it due to the mask only amplifies the figure he presents. He knows who Batman is, that much is clear, as to what he will do with you is still a mystery, a game he will play until he becomes bore and goes to find a new toy.

Your eyes look up and down his body, his mask, your breathes coming in harsh puffs of air. “You are not scare of me” he states, although it sounds more like a question but you both know there’s no questions when it comes to him. “Good, it will make this all the more easier” He says, tilting his head and joining his hands together before he crouches down in front of you, his hand moving to your face, low in your jaw and for a brief of a second you are sure this is how you die. But nothing comes, he just takes a good look at you before telling one of his goons to lock you in one of the rooms down there and keep an eye on you at all times. In a sense it could be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t such a different character. He had kept good on his promise, none of his men had so much as to lay a finger on you, they kept you fed, they kept you clean and with enough dignity to not try to throw yourself off one of the multiple bridges in here.

Bane didn’t show up often, you ever barely saw him, barely ever heard of him. This men as brave and cuntless as they claimed to be were still as brute as they came when it came to basic things. Basic things like hygiene, like cooking, like healing wounds. Their organization system down here was a mess, and food came only when they remembered to eat.

It doesn’t take long for chaos to begin, there’s always someone, always a loose end you need to dispose of. All it took was one mistake. Getting out of the room you were locked in to go to the bathroom, the only one around, Bane had made sure out of the kindness of his heart that none of his men would go near you while you cleaned yourself. But there’s always one, one that doesn’t listen, one that tries to play it. The man approached you, he had been the one in charge of watching over you for the day, his eyes raking over your body, his hands lingering on your arm as he guided you towards the bathroom. It didn’t take long for him to try something, to try to grab you. A kick to his groin he didn’t expect bought you enough time to run, to run as fast you could until another of the goons stopped you, taking you directly to Bane, your disobedience wouldn’t go unpunished.

“Why are you here?” Bane asks, turning his head around slightly, his eyes on you. “Answer little bitch” the man barks, his foot pushing onto your back, a grunt escaping your lips as your body jerks forward. “I wasn’t asking her” Bane tells him, his tone ice cold, gripping the man by his neck before he speaks.

“Boss” he begins to say before the forceful push of fingers against his skin makes him go quiet.

“Why were you running Miss Wayne?” Bane asks, the tittle mocking on his tone. You don’t reply, your eyes cast towards the floor, looking at his booth, suddenly too interested in the shade of black they are.

“I asked you a question little one… did the cat got your tongue or should I get it myself?” He asks, the cracking of his voice through the mask feels like thunder in the air. Swallowing before finally looking up at him, meeting his eyes before you speak, a part of you sure he will have your tongue either way.

“One of the man tried to grope me.” His eyes don’t change expression at your words but his head nods along, as if he was really interested in your opinion. “Which one?” Is all he says, his hand still around the goons neck, it doesn’t seem to even cost him a breath to hold a man up in the air.

“I don’t know… he was at my door this morning.” You say, trying to recall anything to give away his identity. But Bane knows who, dropping the man on the floor and grabbing your arm to lift you up, dragging you along with him as he walks back to the hall where the rest of his mercenaries are, awaiting for what they think will be punishment for you.

“Brothers” the crackling noise of his voice breaks through the noise, his hands intertwining in front of him as he speaks. “This is my guest, we wouldn’t want her to think of us as savages now” he says, turning to you as he speaks, there’s a tension in the air, his words may seem measured and calm but there’s the underline of a promise there. “Come forward boy, let me see the hands she complained about” he says, the man who had tried to touch you moving up front, a slight fear in his eyes as he looks up at Bane. “You will be the perfect example. Now since you are so eager to be noticed.” Bane speaks, looking at the man, his eyes twisting slightly, a rage inside that seems to always be brewing.

“cut off his hands, let it be a lesson for all of you.” He says, turning around, the man protest, tries to plea but you find yourself looking away, the sound of a blade through skin and bone making your ears ring, your blood rushing cold. They knew now, not to touch you, not to look your way, you were Bane’s property, for whatever use that may had been it was common knowledge for everyone but you.

“There was no need..” you begin to say when he halts to a stop, your body almost colliding with the impossible expand of his back as he turns around, a head or two taller than you. “Would you rather I let them all touch you then?” He asks, there’s a borderline note of sarcasm in his words, the edge of a joke that never comes out but only a fool would know better than to ever disobey what he says.

Your eyes cast down, looking at the floor, he is right, he always is, in way, in this madness, he is the boss, the alpha, and if there’s one thing you know for certain is that no one here will touch what’s his. It isn’t much of a choice really. Bruce is gone, he left you, and as much of grief you want to give him there’s simply no more left, not when he has left you one too many times before, when you have already grieved him one too many times before. Seems in the end he was always the fastest of you both.

“What will you do with me?” You ask, words that leave you before you can measure the repercussions of asking him. The beat of your heart too loud in your ears. You need to know, need to find out what he has plan for you before you loose what’s left of your sanity, and if there’s no use for you, then you must make one, find one before he decides to throw you like a bone for his dogs to eat. The choices are few but they are clear, Bruce left you to his mercy, but maybe it will be what saves you in the end.

He simply looks at you, his head turning to side eye you, there’s in reality no use to your existence other than of torturing what was left of the Batman, you have nothing to offer him, nothing he can think of, but maybe that is the problem, he can’t think of anything, because his mind has been clouded lately, has been on the edge of a knife. He knows, he knows how Talia thinks, how she acts, he knows by now she didn’t take any consideration into his feelings when she accepted Wayne’s offer, when she so smoothly leaned into his bed. Her point had been to hurt Wayne but in the end, the betrayal had tasted bitter in his tongue, she was all he had for certain, all he had ever needed. But that was the funny thing of love. It was only him loving her, feeding himself off the promise of her touch for far too long, a touch she gave to keep him in control, a wild animal on a cage is still just as wild, if only ever more dangerous.

Bane leans down on his desk, one of his hands lift to signal something and one of his man comes to move you, get you out of his sight. It wouldn’t do you good to irritate him. The walk to the room is quiet, but you notice none of the man even lift his eyes to look your way. The lesson was taught.

A sigh escapes your lips as the door behind you closes, the room feels slightly cold, it smells of humidity, but all in all it could be worse. There’s a bed with enough blankets to not be cold, and at least there’s light. It’s better than sleeping in between all the mercenaries as you have seen them do. It’s torturous, maddening, to be locked in this place with nothing to do, no hope to even escape with how tight he runs this place. And certainly no hero to come rescue you, perhaps this time there won’t be salvation, but if you must live in this hell you will make sure is the devil who protects you, there weren’t virgins in hell for a reason, they all needed to give up something to be saved.

The closest to freedom you will ever get will come from how far he lets off your leash, and Bane doesn’t seem the kind to let his animals run wild. You only need a chance, a moment, let him find the use in you, let him find a purpose to keep you here. He is a man after all, and there’s only one thing that can make a man grow weak, even if none will admit it.

Opportunities don’t arise in a place like this, and so you must create them yourself. Opening the door to your room the guard informs you is time to bathe, grabbing the one towel you have been given you make your way to the common bathroom. It’s disgusting, dirty and beyond repugnant but it’s better than nothing. You have been wearing the same clothes for days, weeks even; turning around before you enter the bathroom your head turns to the man, fingers crossed and a silent prayer that this action will set in motion a bigger way for you.

“could you ask Bane for clothes? I cannot keep wearing the same ones over and over”

“You are always free to walk around naked sweetheart” the man smirks, clearly not taking you seriously. “Maybe we should ask Bane what he thinks of the idea, I know he will be thrilled to know what his men are suggesting” you speak, a calm victory when the man’s smirk drops off his face, if the hand incident had taught them anything it was not to mess with what Bane was keeping safe. “Will you ask him or would you rather I walk to his office, naked, as you suggested and see what he thinks about it?” You ask, a condescending tone to your voice.

You aren’t sure what you would prefer, if the clothes or the nakedness, the second one would make this all the more easier.

The man speaks on the radio, his voice echoing to Bane my request, and you know you have won when he rolls his eyes as he speaks “Boss says to take you to his office, let’s go” he begins walking, making sure you are moving in front of him, the end of his gun always within reach of your back.

Two knocks come from the man before he is told to come in, pushing you in slightly as he stays outside, sending you into the mouth of the wolf.

“I hear the little bird is complaining” His metallic voice reaches your ears, his hands on the table as he looks over some papers.

“I can’t keep wearing this same clothes over again” you say, the tone of your voice slightly shaking until you find your footing. How bad could it be, how bad of a person would it make you, desperation was a funny thing when your life hanged by a threat.

His eyes move to you, and before he can speak your words cut through him, “I could always parade myself naked around, I don’t think your men would mind although some of them may loose more hands.” There’s a confidence in your voice that only fear can bring out. His eyes move to your face, staying there as he studies you. He is well aware you aren’t bluffing, he sits back down on his chair, his hands resting on his desk, fingers intertwined. “I didn’t think the little bird had it in her to make demands, not that she is in a position to place them” he speaks, calm, collected.

Your hands are sweating, your heart has either stopped beating or is beating so hard you can no longer feel it.

He gets up, walking around his desk, heavy footsteps resonating in the room, the hand at the front of his desk moving to grip your chin, gripping it tight, forcing your face to look up at him. “There’s no free entrance at this circus little one, you have to find a way to pay or you are out” He says, and you know in his words he means that even if he has you alive for a reason, he could easily throw you aside, find a darker future for you. Your eyes remain fixed on his, there’s a burning hatred festering behind them, a festering need to hurt that you can’t seem to place or hold. His hand moves, from your chin, slightly making their way over your jaw, resting on your cheek, his thumb settling under your bottom lip. He is testing, seeing how far you will allow, even when you both know he has all the power here.

Is this truly what you have come to be? What has come to be of you? The whore of a criminal, but who was anyone to judge you, if it meant staying alive, if it meant keeping some of the sanity you were slowly loosing.

When you don’t move, don’t flinch away or avert your eyes from him, he takes it as his sign, the sign to see just how much advantage he can have, how deep could the wound he wants to inflict be. An eye for an eye. Bruce had Talia, now he would have you. The way he could taste the sweet pain it would cause you. His hand moves softly, the feel of his callous fingers on your cheeks make something akin to tears gather in your eyes that he gracefully ignores. His hand moves to the side of your face, a perfect placement between your neck and the bottom of your head, and he pushes down, his other hand moving to the belt of his pants. You aren’t stupid, you know what he wants, what he is asking of you, and you know there’s a way out, refuse him and he will leave you alone, lock in that room where you won’t see another day. He pushes you lower until your knees hit the floor, his hand unbuttoning his pants, pulling himself out of his underwear, leaving it resting against the black cargo pants he is wearing as his hand moves to the opposite side of your head, both of his hands engulfing your head, a silent thread, that if you so much as to try anything he will undoubtedly break your neck. And you don’t doubt it, you don’t doubt he wouldn’t even consider it twice before snapping you in two.

Your eyes move to his, not out of obedience but out of silent permission to take him in your hand, he looks at you, expectantly, guiding your head slowly, his thumb moving under your bottom lip to feel as you open your mouth. Your hand moves to grip him, semi hard, the foreskin hiding the bead of precum already at the tip, thicker than you thought but what could you expect for a man his size. You are terrified, terrified of not liking it, of gagging, of not being able to handle the taste. God knows when he took a shower last.

It comes as a surprise when you finally wrap him around your hand and put your lips to him, it’s not exactly flowers and candy but it isn’t as displeasing as you thought it would be. Slightly salty, a little tart as you push with your hand his foreskin slightly back to push your tongue under him, cushioning him as you took him further into your mouth, the cracking sound of his breathing coming through the mask, the rhythm of it changed. His eyes don’t leave yours, his chest rises and falls as you look up at him, shifting on your knees slightly to get more comfortable. He urges your head forward when he decides you are taking too long to do it yourself, pushing all the way in until his head hits the back of your throat, a grunt escaping him as he throws his head back slightly. You can feel him growing in your mouth, stretching your lips around him as he pushes further down, and it takes all of you not to gag, your hand moving to his thigh, the muscle taunt.

You move your head back, letting the tip come to your lips before continuing down until all of him is sheltered in your throat, tears and gag be damned, everything be damned when his neck looks so big and his veins pop so deliciously. You can feel the pulse of his cock, the underside of it protuberant with veins, now that he is fully hard you can feel the way it curves to the side, pushing into your cheek. His stomach heaves with every breath he takes, a visible vein traveling from the low cut of his hips to the inside of his vest. Your mouth keeps moving, taking every detail of him you can. There’s a low growing sensation rising from your core, a wetness forming between your legs, and it’s not precisely out of want but out of the power trip it gives you to have such a powerful man rocking his hips into your mouth, the soft hairs at the base of his crotch caressing your nose.

Your hands move higher on his legs, moving to his hips, exposed by his pants, your nails softly tickling his skin and a broken grunt escapes him through the mask, his hands squeezing agonizingly hard at your head, pushing you to move faster, he can feel himself growing hotter, the tingling sensation in his lower back warning him, the tightening of his balls as he grunts, sloppily guiding your head now, controlling how much and how deep you drag him as he grunts, beginning to come inside of your mouth, pushing your head all the way until you feel his pelvis at your nose as he keeps pushing, making sure you take all of it, you swallow all of him. His fingers involuntarily had started to knead at your scalp, stopping and pulling you off of him roughly by your hair. He can see the shine of saliva and his cum in your lips as you stare at him, waiting, expecting to know if you passed the imaginary test.

He moves his hands from you, slight out of breath to he speaks, putting himself back into his pants.

“Clean yourself, you will have some clothes tomorrow.”

Somehow the dynamic changes, your meals get delivered in better timing, your showers are slightly longer, and from time to time one of his goons come to get you, to take you to his office where you spend the next couple of minutes praying on your knees. Never getting anything in return, not physical at least but you are okay with that, or so you tell yourself; until you find it hard, hard to focus, to concentrate, every time you shower your mind starts to slip, to think of him, of his callous hands. Your mind plays tricks on you, everytime he is inside your mouth wondering if maybe today is the day he will give something in return, that perhaps if you do it extra nice he will reward you. How indeed the roles have twisted. It must be the weeks piling up in solitude down here.

You don’t see him for nearly a week, a week where you eat, shower, sleep and repeat. Not so much of a word from the goon at your door, not that you would ask him anyways, but you have to wonder if it’s that he found another entertainment or that he simply lost interest. It’s neither or, he is simply too busy, the expansion of his plan moving forward, his men hard at work, Gotham is slowly falling into his hands, into despair. So it comes as a surprise to you when you are awaken in the middle of the night. One of his men opening the door, barging in to get you. Hauling you off the bed before making you walk barefoot through the hallways, shirt you use to sleep in hanging off your shoulder, sleep in clear in your face as you make your way to a place you have never been before, a door that you know for a fact isn’t his office. Two knocks rasp against the door before his voice comes through, the metallic sound of it sending chills down your spine as the man opens the door and pushes you in.

It’s his room you realize, looking around, it’s cold, dark and empty. Only a bed, big enough to fit him, a desk and a chair. A door is adjacent to it, a bathroom you presume, but what catches your attention is the man sitting at the foot of the bed. His pants the only thing on his body beside his mask. He is looking down onto the floor, his knees parted and his hands on each of them, waiting for your place in between them. It’s a silent transaction this time, he doesn’t speak, barely breathes as you kneel down, waiting for the permission his eyes give you before opening his pants. He is too quiet, so calm that something must be very wrong. He doesn’t usually call for you at night, even less in the middle of it and you know better than to ask him. Swallowing softly as you begin to work, to lick him, suck him, anything to take the frown off his face. But he doesn’t even seem to be enjoying it. His hand moves to your hair, pulling you off of him, your eyebrows kneading together in a silent question, but he doesn’t say anything, simply pulling you to him, your body in between his legs, one of his hands in your lower back, a sight that sounds too tired leaving his mask. “Lay down” is all he says, and a small fear settles in your bones, this isn’t how you want him to do it, this isn’t what you thought about.

But you know better than to ask, simply laying down on the bed, watching as he puts himself back into his pants, moving over to the door that leads to the bathroom. He returns not long after, mask still on his face, his pants still on, but he removes his boots, laying down on the bed, next to you, he doesn’t touch you, doesn’t even look your way but you understand, to a certain level that maybe this is the closest to affection he has ever received, even if he has to force it out of you. Turning to your side you close your eyes, it feels tense, the air slightly charged of an unknown feeling you don’t feel ready to disclose, words you want to speak but your mouth refuses to ask. Sleep soon claims you, taking you down as he looks at you, looks over your sleeping form, taking the details on your face. You would never know this, not that you would ask and he certainly wouldn’t tell you, but that night, along with what’s left of his humanity, he had lost part of the sanity he had left; she was never going to take him with her, she was ready to let him die, to leave him behind when the bomb detonated, Talia never meant to take him, it had all been a game she played, of soft words and night shared, she only needed him to build this empire of chaos for her, never planing to allow him to live it by her.

He falls asleep to festering thoughts of murder and chaos, of hurt and betrayal. But the dreams do not appear that night, the nightmares, the pit, the woman and the child, those ghosts of the past don’t visit him tonight. The only thing he can feel his the soft way you breathe, the way you smell, the warmth of your body, it makes him wish you were to never leave his bed, to never leave his room. He wants to lock you in, to keep you here where you can never betray him, where no matter what he knows he will always have you. A simple dream, an innocent one that men like him won’t ever be allowed. He wants to touch you, he craves it every time your body is between his legs, down on your knees, but he doesn’t deserve it, you didn’t belong to the darkness, you didn’t belong to the pain he knew his world brought, but still, he is selfish, selfish enough to keep you, but the one thing he won’t allow himself is to touch you, to erase Talia’s touch out of his body, even if to her he was simply a means to an end. But he knows deep down, somewhere on what’s left of his sanity, of his heart, there shouldn’t be sinners in a house of God, the way his hands shouldn’t be allowed to worship your body.

Awakening in his bed had been confusing, it smelled of him, sweat and aftershave. Looking around you sit up, noticing that he is gone, the room is empty, but there’s a tray of food in the desk and you can see your things around his room, your shoes, the few items of clothes you had, all located somewhere within this room.

Moving out of the bed you slowly make your way to the bathroom, cleaner than the common one, few items of clothing thrown around the floor, a few personal objects around the sink. There’s an extra toothbrush, and soap, frowning you realize is the one you had back in your room, the one he had given you when he brought you down here.

There’s a slight tremor to your movements as you open the door, peaking your head outside to find one of his men there, “Why… why are my things in here?” You ask, as if he would know the answer, but he simply shakes his head, asking through the radio something before answering you. “You are moving to this room.” He says matter of factly, moving to Banes room with him you assume, because otherwise it wouldn’t make any sense. Nodding your head you move back inside the room, looking around, he has few books, barely any but one of them calls your attention, enough to distract you, it was better than the nothingness you had before.

Bane doesn’t go to the room during the day, until very late at night. You don’t actually see him and not that you would complain, but there’s a certain warmth, a certain feeling that wraps around your body when the occasion occurs, when you wake up so late into the night the sunrise could be close by and you feel him, next to you, his arm next to your body, almost touching you, but the clear weight of his body on the bed is present next to you. The feel of him, warm, his breathing soft and for those seconds some resemblance of safety, of normality comes over you.

Strangely enough he hasn’t asked for you anymore, either too busy with his plans or simply not needing it, or receiving it from someone else, your mind tells you, unlikely but always a possibility. It makes a slow bitter taste simmer deep in your stomach, he isn’t yours by any means, and is not as if you want him to be, but the idea of someone else seeing him as you did brings festering feelings you don’t want to dwell on. It must be the entrapment, the claustrophobic nature of being in the same place for weeks on end, what is making your sanity escape out the door, what is making you miss him, crave the affection even as slim as it was. His threatening touches feeling like a feast when you have been starved of affection for so long.

The soft sound of water awakes you, the room dark except for the soft caress of yellow coming off the semi open bathroom door. Then you hear it, water running from the faucet most likely, and the sound of someone spitting reaches your ears. Spitting. Spitting. Spitting off their mouth. Bane can’t spit, unless….

Unless his mask was off, his mask, he had taken it off. It’s a realization that shouldn’t make your stomach burn in nerves and your toes go numb. Trying to regulate your breathing as to not give away you have awaken but in the end is unlike you will fall back asleep now. It smells slightly of soap, of water, a humidity in the air that gives away he must have taken a shower. And it makes all kind of thoughts run through your head. His footsteps approach the bed as he turns off the light in the bathroom, your cue to close your eyes again.

“I know you are awake little birdie.” He says, his voice sounds soft, unfiltered, his words slightly slurred, slightly mingled.

Swallowing you open your eyes, the room is so dark it makes no difference. Turning around you try to figure out where he is standing but it’s in vain; “does it hurt?” You ask him softly, your voice heavy with sleep. “To have it off I mean” you clarify, but he knows exactly what you had meant.

“It does,” he says, calm, softly, it’s the most the two of you have talked in weeks. Moving around in the bed, feeling your way around with your hand to try and find the edge, you kneel, getting up to try and reach his height.

“You are quiet tonight.” It’s the closest attempt to a joke you can make, out of place, with no humor but this is the first time you have seen him in weeks and you don’t want to let him slip through your fingers for god knows how long again.

“Is the lack of entertainment a complain you want to place?” He asks, the note of sarcasm his mask provides is gone, the electric feeling he gives disappears, leaving behind the dry air of his words. You shake your head, aware that he can’t see you but it felt almost natural to do so. “A man could think that you miss him.” He says, and you can feel his eyes looking at you, searching your face, the darkness will never be an impediment for him.

“Can I touch you?” Your words are soft, your breath warm agains his chest, your hand already half way in the air, moving slow enough to give him time to stop you if he wants. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch when your hand makes contact with his face, touching his cheek, your fingers slotting perfectly around his jaw. The skin feels rough, bumpy, like ragged scars that never fully healed. Your thumb moves, moving to his chin, finding soft broken lips, full and lumpy, and he swallows when the pad of your finger finds his bottom lip, caressing the marred flesh, the nerves under his skin crying in protest.

“Careful” he barks out, not loud enough to startle you but enough to give you a warning.

“Go back to sleep little bird.” He commands, grabbing your wrist, removing your hand from his face, turning around to get his mask and once again securing it over his face, the hum of his breathing audible in the air.

He begins to move towards the bed, and you move away, moving to your side of it, laying on your side, the bed dipping slightly when he lays down on it. He stays quiet, you don’t know if he is awake but you won’t check either, but as for you, you remain alert, all through the night, your fingers itch and your mind won’t quiet down. All of your thoughts are consumed by him.

His mood isn’t the best since the day started, and it for sure soured now that Talia walked in his makeshift office. His eyes drop at her presence, disdain and some measure of pain tantalizing his mind. But he knows, he knows deep down he could never lay a finger on her, not even if she threw him out the board like he meant nothing.

“I will be taking the girl with me, I have plans for her” she says, and he knows she means plans to make her an example, to display her corpse or worse, when he doesn’t reply right away, like a good dog on a leash her eyebrows frown in his direction. Suspicion crawling into her mind.

“I am afraid that is not happening.” His tone is cold, colder that she has ever heard him speak to her. It makes the nerves on her stomach twist, the cruel realization that she is loosing her grip on him settling in her bones.

“You are giving her to me, she is part of our plan, our fire, my love we need to destroy all the loose ends.” She tries, softening her words, her eyes soft, her hands moving to his over his desk, but his fingers don’t even flinch, they don’t grab hers to hold them as they used to. She is slowly but surely loosing him.

“You are not taking her. I have business to attend, you better take your leave.” It shocks her, makes her blood run cold. Her protector, her safety, leaving her behind, she has lost the ability to use him to her every whim and desire.

She leaves, anger coursing through her, a pain she hasn’t expected settles in her chest. She leaves the hideout, and she knows better than betray him, than to do anything stupid now, he is rabid, and pained, an unpredictable dog that could end up costing her everything.

He sits back on his chair, hands over his head, his fingers intertwined. A deep sigh leaving his mask, he has come to realize the pain of Talia’s betrayal has dulled to a calm numbing sensation. Your words from the other night coming back to his mind, your hands on his face. It’s been a long time since anyone has touched his bare face, since anyone has felt his skin. It sends a chill down his spine to think of you, to think of how you came to him, how slowly that fear you harbored for him has transformed into something else, into a feeling he doesn’t dare put even near close to caring. He would never deserve to touch you, to feel the softness of your body, the warmth it could provide him.

It makes him numb, it makes him worried, worried that your presence has become a testament of his sanity. If he were to ever loose control of your company, it would send him into a spiral he isn’t ready to discuss yet.

He returns to the room late at night, tired, his body aches and his head throbs. He removes his mask, he needs air, real air. Making his way to the bathroom he looks over at you. He knows you are awake as soon as he enters the room again, even in the darkness he can feel your breathing. You were waiting for him, a softness to your voice as you speak.

“Bane?” It’s the first time you have said his name, your voice soft, a whisper. He wants to pull away, to simply stop your hand from reaching him but it’s too late, the soft caress on his skin is like electrical shock through his system.

“Little bird…” he tries to warn you, his voice tired, rough, a pain in it only those who have had nothing can understand.

Your hand moves lower, tracing the shape of his neck, your fingers meeting the dip of his collarbones, your eyes never leaving his. His throat swells around a swallow, your hands tracing soft patterns over his chest, his shirt long forgotten. Your other hand settles on his cheek, your face moving towards his, slowly, giving him time to retract if he wants to, but he doesn’t, he allows your closeness, your nose caressing his and the soft breath that escapes him when your lips meet his bumpy ones is not lost to you. For such a powerful man he is sure as heavens falling apart in your arms.

His kiss is soft, shy almost, his lips unsure of how to move and it dwells on you that perhaps he hasn’t been kissed many times before. Your body presses against his, his hand moving painfully slow to your waist, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt, like he is scare he will hurt you. Your lips open slightly, your tongue tracing his bottom one, waiting for him to allow you in; the hot soft muscle meets yours, his kiss is slow, sensual even, the way his tongue shyly pulls you into his mouth, like a trap in which at any moment he will snap his teeth and bite you. But it doesn’t happen, he simply kisses you, he kisses you like a man who has been starved of water for too long. He lets you undress him, he lets you feel him, he allows you to tear him open, skin to bone, taking all the slow pieces of him, destroying him until he is nothing in your hands, and only then, he feels at home.

When your hand move to the button of his pants a low growl escapes his lips. You pull him towards you, crawling backwards on the bed and bringing his body down with you. His arms cage in your face, your hands working to open his pants. It’s a silent exchange, words are not needed, not when his eyes speak so loud. His hands move under your shirt, feeling the skin of your stomach, finding their path forward towards your breast, squeezing the flesh, a groan escapes him, and he isn’t prepared for how delicious you would feel in his hands. Wiggling his hips to help you put his pants down, taking his underwear down with them. His lips find your neck, soft kisses and nips marking your skin, his hand moving to remove your shirt, the need to feel your skin against his overwhelming his senses. He moves away from you simply to remove his pants completely. Moving over you again, this time completely naked as his hands move over your thighs, gripping the edge of your underwear and pulling it down, his eyes trained on the treasure he finds there, his pupils dilating when he sees the shine of your wetness for him.

He moves over you again, his hands holding your leg, the muscles of your thigh burning as he makes space for his hips in between your legs. His thumb moves over the skin under your navel, before moving lower, the pad of it softly grazing over you, feeling how moist and hot it is. Your hand moves next to your face, your finger catching in between your lips as you look at his hand moving over you, your eyes half lidded as he teases your clit, tracing a line up and down over it with his finger.

A whimper escapes you, your eyes closing when his pointer finger enters you, a groan escaping his lips when he feels the tightness inside of you.

“This is what you do little bird, you rip open what’s left of my sanity.” He growls, his middle finger joining the other inside, opening them in a scissoring motion as your back arches slightly.

For how gentle he is being he is awfully impatient, the vein on his neck prominent as he moves over you better, his eyes moving to your face, he doesn’t want to miss any of your facial expressions as he grabs himself with his other hand, opening his fingers once again inside of you before he pushes them down, stretching you open, pushing himself inside of you at the same time that his fingers remain buried in your heat. A cry leaves your lips as he begins to settle in, the burn of the stretch is a maddening threat between pleasure and pain, your hand flying to his forearm as he keeps pushing in, only stopping when he is settled completely in. He loves the way your face breaks, how your eyebrows are furrowed. He moves his fingers out of you, leaning over you completely as his hand holds your face, the other moving over your head and his lips collide with yours as his hips begin to move, hard and deep, he takes himself all the way to the tip before slamming in again, and the weight of him over you feels suffocating, his hand moving down your back, until he finds the curve of your lower back, his hands gripping the skin there, drawing you to him, deepening himself as much as he can into you.

It’s a pleasure he hadn’t experienced before, the soft cries and quiet touches, how your face breaks and you put your hands over his shoulders, how he can basically feel himself so deep inside of you he swears he can feel your heartbeat every time he thrust deep into you. It’s nothing like he has done before, with Talia it had always been fast and hard movements, no soft touches, no kisses, no cries of pleasure. It makes him feel like he has missed the point of living until he stumbled upon you.

“Light in my eyes…” he murmurs as you writhe absolutely wrecked under him. His lips on your neck, on your cheek, on your mouth, claiming you in a possessive kiss that threatens to break you apart.

His hand moves down your stomach, his fingers trapping your clit between them as he pinches it, a cry escaping you as he massages it, playing with it, feeling how you squeeze him, how you tighten around him.

“D…don’t stop… gods don’t stop” you beg him, feeling the coiling sensation rising inside of you, the warmth threatening to spill and take you over the edge.

Bane’s eyes never leave your face, a growl adorning his lips as his fingers move, the muscles in his arm taunt and his hips relentlessly connect to yours. He feels it, how you squeeze him, how your body swallows him in and refuses to let him go, your back arching off the bed as you come apart in his arms.

His hips keep moving, his pace faster. He hides his face in your neck, his arms tightening around you as he moves, sloppier, his mouth opening in a silent cry when the feeling in his lower back snaps, the pleasure coursing through his veins as he begins to come, your hand reach for the back of his neck, holding him, afraid he may disappear; his hips slow down, his movements uneven as he comes back from the high of his orgasm.

He holds you, not moving at all from you, not even letting you get up, it’s like a new vice he discovered, a new drug he can’t let go of his system anymore. You are the venom that curses through his veins, that alleviates his pain, the only thing in this world he refuses to let go off now. It doesn’t matter what happens with Gotham or the future, wherever he goes he will take you with him, it doesn’t matter to him if he has to tear cities apart to keep you by his side, even if he has to threaten the whole world just so you stay. It’s a shame, a tragedy. The moment his eyes fly open and the realization dawns upon him, a fragment of his broken mind. A hope to have some light in the dark, and maybe, if life was to ever be kind to him, someday he will have you willingly giving yourself to him.

#bane #bane x reader #bane smut #tdkr bane x reader #tdkr bane smut #Tom Hardy love of my life #daddyhardy

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fanfiction4sooya · 1 year ago

Text

Just a quick lesson (Yunjin x F!Reader)

I wrote this on a 30 minute rampage so it's a little rushed but... yeah, I finally felt like writing again. Hope some of you like it!! 💖💖

tw: cursing, dry humping, fingering, a little bit of dubcon. cunnilingus, yunjin is a little mean, nerdy reader, etc etc;

🌸.

"Okay nerd, I'll teach you a few things" Yunjin rolled her eyes, looking you up and down as you sat on the edge of her bed.

She was one of the popular girls at college and was definitely the meanest of them, literally forcing you to be her private tutor in return of not making your life a living hell.

She enjoyed making you blush and stutter talking about the most random topics ever, and that's exactly how she found out you had never intimately touched anther girl, even though you really wanted to.

"W-what?" Your eyes widened as she got up, stopping in front of you. Her eyes had a certain humour, this specific glint. You felt yourself shiver. "You are joking, right?" You weakly laughed, trying to brush that idea off.

"Why would I joke about fucking you?" That humour left her eyes and now only that mischievous glint remained. She held your chin between her index and thumb, lifting your face towards her.

She was so much taller and intimidating, specially because she was always so nice until she wasn't anymore. Her red hair made her look even fiercer, sexier. Of course you looked at her with lust, you just never thought she would actually reciprocate.

You tried to avoid her gaze but her long nails dug deeper into your cheeks, pulling your eyes back to her. She bent forward, her sly smile frighteningly inviting.

"I don't think we should do this..." You whispered, gulping. You felt yourself getting wet against your own will. You had to resist her at all costs, especially because you really thought she was kidding.

"I think you saying we shouldn't makes me wanna fuck you even more" She said in a low tone, her eyes darkening before she finally made her lips connect to yours. Oh she was such a fuckboy.

Ok. It was happening.

Her kiss was rough but so good it made you moan as soon as her tongue slightly grazed yours, her plump lips felt hot and soft against yours.

"I'll make sure to help you learn well" She pushed your face to the side to kiss your neck and you suffocated a moan, too embarrassed to actually do it. She immediately stopped, staring at your face. "I wanna hear you" You rolled your eyes when she kissed your jaw, nibbling at it.

You lightly nodded, not being able to deny her request.

She pulled your dress over your head and now you were only on your panties, your semi naked body on display for her. You felt your cheeks grow hot, closing your eyes as she pushed you to lay on her bed. She quickly pulled her shorts off, straddling you next and going back to kiss your lips, dry humping you.

"Oh my god" You moaned when you felt that friction against your hard clit, your hands immediately going to her hips. She smiled against your lips, biting them.

"feels good, right?" She said, humping a little harder and you almost screamed.

"Yunjin...too good, please" You felt yourself getting wetter, and she quickly worked on discarding both your panties.

"If you think that feels good, wait until our clits really touch" She exhaled sharply when she positioned her clit over yours. She plucked two fingers inside your mouth and you obviously accepted them, coating them with your saliva.

She collected it and smeared against your pussy, spreading your wetness on it too and making you toss your head back, arching your head off the bed when your clits finally touched.

"fuck!" You exclaimed when you felt her thrust her hips forward, closing your eyes.

"Shit, your pussy feels so good" She said through gritted teeth, holding your hips with those big hands to pull you into her harder.

The obscene wet sounds reverberated through her room and you could feel your heartbeat on your ears. Fuck, it felt liberating, wild, insane. You knew that having sex with a woman was an out of body experience because of what experienced women said, but this? It was another level of pleasure.

"Yunjin please, please" You asked her for something, anything. She got off of you, promptly laying on her stomach to eat you out. "Oh my..." You couldn't finish the sentence because her mouth sucking your clit like made your brain short circuit.

"Fucking moan for me, baby. I wanna hear you" She said, adding two fingers in one go inside you; You glitched, completely lost. That feeling was too much, your pussy dripping so much you almost felt embarrassed but couldn't really bring yourself to it.

"I'm gonna cum" You closed your eyes, pulling her even closer to your core. She fucked you ever harder, sucking your clit at the same time.

You came screaming, tossing yourself against the mattress in a wild state, clenching hard against her fingers. She took them off of you, licking your pussy from your slit to your clit and you basically screamed louder, trying to close your legs around her head. She smiled, getting up to sit by your side, pulling you to sit as well.

"Now it's my turn, pretty girl" She said in a husky tone, her chin glistening with your wetness and she kissed you again to make you taste yourself.

She took your fingers to her lips, spitting on them and smiling at your awe expression when she took them to her own wet cunt and running them up and down to scatter her juices. Your body trembled when she pushed them inside, her breath hitching for a moment.

"That's it..." She smiled at you and you felt yourself melt at that. "fuck, your fingers feel good" She held your forearm to keep that pace and you kissed her lips in a sudden bold move. "Eat me out" She said against your lips and you sort of panicked. "I'll teach you, don't worry nerd" You smiled, that stupid nickname finally starting to grow on you.

You positioned yourself between her open legs and she put your hair to the side, her eyes scanning your face.

"you look so pretty..." You mumbled in a shy tone, literally staring at her glistening pussy. She clenched so hard, your innocent face looked so pretty.

She wanted to absolutely ruin you.

When your tongue made contact with her pussy, she didn't even moan just grunted, holding herself back to not fuck your face as she pleased at that very moment.

"That's it pretty girl, lick it just like that" She said, caressing your hair. "You are doing so good for a nerd who never fucked a woman..." She scoffed, pulling your fingers to fuck her again.

A million things went through your head, but the main one was that you really wanted to make her feel good.

"Please, use me..." you pleaded, looking up at her beautiful face.

That was enough for her to lose it, pushing you to the mattress to straddle your face and fully sit on it.

"Oh, I knew it would take less than a month for you to be on my bed" She basically spat, fucking herself on your face hard and fast. "I'm gonna fucking cum on your pretty face, baby" She tasted delicious, her clit brushing your nose and her slit completely fitting your mouth.

You drank from her as if you haven't had anything to drink in months. It felt sinful, delicious. God, you were screwed.

She kept that pace, not even caring if it was suffocating you or not, just trying to get off. She was burning, going insane against your hot tongue as she held you by the hair to scream that she was coming, completely tensing up over you.

Her body was shaking so hard that you felt the need to hold her, your own cunt wet again because of how hot it felt having the Huh Yunjin cum on your face like that.

She got off your face, going back to kiss you. She held your cheeks digging her nails into them again to make you look at her. Her pupils were completely blown, her eyes dark and hungry.

"I knew you were a fast learner, nerd" She pulled into another searing kiss, her free hand roaming on your body again.

Oh you were in for the best lesson ever.

#gxg smut #le sserafim smut #le sserafim yunjin #yunjin smut #yunjin x you #yunjin x female reader

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pjmmania · 1 month ago

Text

If Snow Decides to Fall

3. "I hear you now."

Chapter Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of abortion, explicit language, profanity

Tag List: @marihoneywk

Back to Chapter Index

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Nine weeks. You’d known about the pregnancy for a full month, and neither of you had told a soul. That is, until last night, two weeks after the ultrasound. You revealed it to your parents via phone call when you got home from work, and they were furious. You couldn’t stop stewing over their words:

"What do you mean you're pregnant?!"

"Park Jimin?! And how does he plan on supporting you?"

"Won't this cost you your job? How could you be so irresponsible?"

"We raised you better than this, young lady."

You tried to explain to them that you were, in fact, in a relationship with him. You tried to tell them how you met him a year ago, not in some sexually charged environment, but at work. And this wasn't just a one-night stand gone awry. You were committed to one another and to having this baby, but it was as if their ears were totally closed to hearing anything outside of what they decided was the truth.

You could have cried that morning, but you were also mightily relieved that it was over. Now they knew, they could digest it on their own, and you could move on with your business.

Getting dressed for work, you dealt with the same fatigue and sickness that had become routine. You had figured out that bananas and plain rice helped soothe your stomach, and you could keep it down, so that’s what you ate for breakfast.

As you consumed your food slowly, you stared at the sonogram photos, which you had magnetized to the refrigerator. It took a few conversations to get there, but you and Jimin were finally able to work out a date and time for the next ultrasound. It would be at the twenty-week mark in August at his place. You smiled to yourself as you daydreamed about it, but there was something else to be excited for in the very near future.

You glanced back into your living room, where there was a gift on the sofa. It was wrapped in neutral light green paper and a simple white bow. You’d gotten a little surprise for Jimin, and planned on giving it to him whenever you were at his apartment next.

Jimin was working out intensely at the studio’s fitness center early that morning, partially because it was necessary to keep up with his job, but also to push out nervous energy.

He knew you told your parents the night before, and he also knew how they reacted. You were reluctant to share it for the sake of sparing his feelings, but he insisted on it. Now that he was fully aware of how your parents felt about him, it stirred him up inside. He wanted the grandparents of his child to at least like him.

Even worse, today was the day he promised he’d tell his own parents. Unsettled and keyed up, he was running on the treadmill much harder than normal. The more he overthought about what his parents would say, the harder he ran. It was beginning to draw attention from Taehyung, Jungkook, and Namjoon, who were all working out at the same time.

Taehyung finished his set on one of the leg machines and got off so he could switch places with the leader, gesturing to Jimin with the quick tilt of his head, "What is he doing? We have a dance practice today. He's going to burn himself out."

Namjoon furrowed his brows, agreeing that this was most unlike him to do something like this. If they had dance practice on a given day, then he made sure he kept his gym activities lighter, more like a warm-up. Right now, it looked like he was training for a marathon. Something had still been a little off about Jimin over the past few weeks. This was just the latest example, and he was becoming more worried by the day.

Jungkook finished a set of pull-ups, "I'll go check on him."

The youngest wiped his dark brown, sweat-clung hair off his forehead and then dabbed off his face with his t-shirt. He made his way over to his panting friend, trying to get his attention.

Jimin took out an earbud when he thought he heard someone calling him. He turned his head to find a humored Jungkook standing there, "What's up?"

"You need to slow the fuck down," Jungkook said, "Don't kill those legs before practice."

"I'm fine," he puffed, "This is light."

"You've been at it for almost thirty minutes. That's double what you typically do before dancing. Come on, Jimin. You'll get all the cardio you desire in a few hours."

He had a point, so he hit the button for the machine to come to a halt. It was only when he became sedentary again that he realized how hard he had pushed his body. It felt like his chest was going to implode. He clutched his shirt over his chest, taking the other earbud out.

Jungkook stepped a bit closer and lowered his voice, "You okay, hyung?"

Jimin said nothing, too desperate to catch his breath. All he could do was nod, but it did little to convince.

The weight was coming down on him. Abruptly, he got off the treadmill and walked out into the hallway, not even stopping to take a drink of water. His heart and mind were both racing. He couldn't take it anymore - he might as well just give them a call now. Rip the bandaid off.

He took the elevator up to the eighth floor, where the private studio rooms were. Yoongi, Jin, and Hoseok might have been in theirs, so he opted for the one that was open for general use. He thanked his lucky stars that this was taking place before work hours, so there was no outside party there to see him looking this distraught. All he had to do was avoid the eyes of the managers, who were likely already in their offices.

He pressed the access code into the pad on the wall with a hasty index finger. Once inside the four soundproof walls, the door locked automatically behind him.

There was a desk set up against the wall with a couple of monitors and a swivel chair. He sank into the chair and took a pause, staring his mother’s contact on the phone. Breathing finally slowing down, he cleared his throat and forced himself to push the button against his own wishes.

He put the phone to his ear and listened to it ring four times, before his mother’s sweet voice.

“Jimin?”

He gulped, “Hey, Mom. How are you?”

“What’s wrong?” she asked him immediately. A mother knew her child, and she certainly could detect the nervousness in his voice, no matter how hard he was trying to sound normal.

There was no point in lying to her, “Nothing’s wrong, per se. But I do need to tell you and Dad something really important. Is he around?”

“Sure, honey. One second.” she said before calling his father’s name in the background.

Jimin’s knee was bouncing up and down as he tapped his foot. The time was fast approaching.

“Hey,” his father’s voice joined in, “How are you, son?”

“I’m alright Dad. I need to tell you guys something and I don’t necessarily know how to do it,” he smiled anxiously, “Um…Yeah, I really have no idea how to do this.”

His mother used a soft, caring tone, “You can tell us. You said it was nothing bad, right?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Jimin sighed, reclining back in the chair, “To me it’s not, at least not anymore. But it’s probably going to upset you.”

“That’s most unlike you. You know you can tell us anything.” His father said.

He nodded, starting to work up the courage he needed, “I know, I know…Okay, I just have to do it. Do you both remember me telling you about the girl I’ve been seeing, Y/N?”

“Yes,” his father said wearily, “I think I know where this is going. Son, please tell us you didn’t propose to this girl without introducing her to your mother and me first.”

“What? No, it’s not that. But we’ve been seeing each other for a year now and things have gotten pretty serious…really serious actually,” Jimin coerced the words out of his mouth, “She’s pregnant.”

The air went dead. On the other end of the line, his parents were utterly stunned. Their silence was making him writhe. He went from leaning back in the chair to bending forward, doubled over with his elbows on his knees.

He pushed his free hand back into his hair, “I know this comes as a shock. I’m sorry. It just sort of…happened.”

His mother came back instantly with a voice full of worry and sternness, “Babies don’t just happen, Jimin. You weren’t being careful.”

“How long have you known about this? And are you certain it's yours?” his father inquired. Jimin could tell he was fuming.

“About a month,” he admitted, “She’s nine weeks along, and yes, it's mine. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys sooner. We wanted to wait until the first ultrasound to make sure things were okay, plus it’s just been a lot to deal with.”

The concerned and aggravated woman laughed out of bewilderment, “Of course it’s a lot, honey. It’s a baby. I hope you have gotten a plan together by now. Are you going to be able to co-parent with her? How will this all work?”

He wanted to shrink into oblivion, “I honestly have no idea, Mom. And I know that’s not what you want to hear, but Y/N and I will figure it out.”

His father’s tone was the slightest bit gentler, “At the very least, can you tell us you are committed mother of your child?”

He answered quickly, wanting to appease them with something they’d actually want to hear, “We are deeply committed to each other and to being good parents together. I love her. This is the first relationship I’ve had that has grown slowly over time and I think that makes it different. She really knows me, all of me. And I know her.”

His mother sighed, “I’m glad you’ve developed strong relationship and that she makes you happy, but love alone doesn’t make for good parenting. You need a plan, Jimin, especially with your career. Stability is everything for a child.”

Finally, a chance for him to vent, “I know, that’s been the hard part. I feel like I’m failing them both every time I pretend that we aren’t together. No one even knows we’re seeing each other, and if they did, she’d get fired. How can I offer them stability if the options are to either keep it all a secret or to expose it and upheave our whole lives with a scandal?”

“Your life has already been upheaved, son,” his father said, “Becoming a father is the biggest change you will ever undergo, whether you are an idol or not. And it disappoints me to hear you call this a 'scandal'. Your son or daughter is not a scandal. Now I’m not thrilled with this news, but if you are going to make this work, you need to stop that kind of thinking.”

“He’s right,” his mother said, “Both of you must accept the repercussions of this, even though a lot of it will sting. Anything less would be putting yourselves over this child."

As embarrassing as this conversation was, their guidance was something he had been starving for. They had a way of giving clarity amid the disarray.

Deep down, he knew this would have to come to light someday - you'd both acknowledged that multiple times already. But now he had a different perspective:

The inevitable reveal didn't have to be scary if it was seen as a necessity for this baby's wellbeing. It was something that had to be done for the sake of raising a child with as much normalcy and steadiness as possible. Otherwise, his or her life would be nothing but secrecy and isolation. The thought of his child feeling like a burden that needed to be hidden away sent shivers down Jimin's spine. If the way to prevent that turmoil was to face the fire, then he would do it.

"Yeah," he nodded, "I needed to hear that. Thank you, even though I know this news isn't a talk you ever wanted to have with me. I'm sorry this disappoints you."

"We wish you'd been more careful," his mother sighed, "But your father and I love you and we will always do what we can to support you. It seems like you have hard months ahead of you, but being a parent comes with unimaginable sacrifices. If you can face them, it will be worth it."

The middle-aged man concurred before adding to the sentiment, "And we have no doubt that you have it in you to be a wonderful father, Jimin."

Unexpectedly, emotion consumed him. To hear that from his own dad meant more than he could have anticipated. He'd been torn up in a never-ending pendulum swing ever since finding out, going back and forth between excitement and fear. Such assurance from an outside party had been a missing piece.

Choked up but not quite crying, Jimin bit the inside of his cheek and then grunted, "Thanks, Dad. Thank you both. I love you guys and I want you to meet Y/N sometime soon. You'll adore her."

He couldn't see it, but his mother was starting to smile, "You really love her, don't you?"

"She's something else," he cleared the inner corners of his eyes with his thumb and index finger, "You'll see it after a only minute of talking to her...I did."

“And you said there’s already been an ultrasound,” she said, “Is everything going okay so far?”

He found himself unable to hold back a small grin, “Yeah, it’s going well. Y/N's been pretty under the weather lately, but she was told it's all normal."

"We will look forward to meeting her," his father said, "We will work out a day to come by. In the meantime, just bear what we've said in mind and take time to plan the next steps."

"I will.”

Both parties then said their goodbyes and hung up. Jimin set his phone on the desk and put his arms behind his head, inhaling and exhaling deeply. It was over with. He’d made it over that hurdle, and it went better than he thought.

He walked out of that studio room in much better spirits than when he went in. Even though he was due at practice in a couple hours, he went back down to the floor on which he started this morning. There were showers available for use, and he felt like he needed a rinse, feeling cold from the drying sweat.

On his way to the showers, he grabbed his bag, which contained a change of clothes for practice. It was waiting for him along the wall in the workout room. Thankfully, the other members were gone when he re-entered the gym, having finished their warm-ups.

It only took him a few minutes to rinse off, refreshing his mood. He washed his body while leaving his hair dry. When he came out, he changed into cargo sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He felt most comfortable rehearsing in baggy garments, allowing his body the maximum range of motion.

He folded his dirty workout gear and packed it away in the bag, then slipping into some sneakers and heading back upstairs to get something to eat. That’s where he figured he’d find the others, eating one of the private common areas.

On the way back up, he noticed some employees making their way into their respective offices. The workday was beginning. It made him think of you and how you might have been feeling that morning, not just physically, but emotionally in the aftermath of calling your parents. He decided to send you a quick text, asking how you were. He knew he would be seeing you after their rehearsal - you and Chaeyoung were coming in to take the guys' initial measurements for the tour concept.

Right as he hit send and rounded a corner, someone bumped into him. His grip on his phone slipped and it was knocked to the floor screen-down. Luckily, it turned out to be Jungkook.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jimin sighed, "Wasn't looking."

Jungkook chuckled, rubbing his shoulder, "All good. I was just coming to look for you. You don't have to tell me what you're stressing about, but I know there's something and I'm going to make sure you at least eat, so come on."

He appreciated the concern, and it was valid, though he would hate to admit it. Jimin could forget to eat sometimes when experiencing strife.

Then Jungkook's eyes went to the floor, noticing that he'd accidentally caused it to fall. He crouched down to retrieve it, making the older internally panic and rush to get to it first. Unfortunately, his friend beat him to it. Innocently wanting to make sure the screen hadn't cracked, Jungkook turned it over.

The screen hadn't yet locked. He could see the text thread between Jimin and his new girlfriend and it made him smirk as he stood up, prepared to unleash some good-natured teasing.

Jimin’s stomach felt like it could have fallen out of his body. He tried to snatch it back, but it only made matters worse. It only confirmed that there was something to hide. With alarmed eyes, he surveyed their surroundings to make sure no one was seeing this.

Jungkook’s brows became furrowed as he scrolled a bit. It was nosy, sure, but he had to know what his brother was hiding. It was painfully clear that something wasn’t right. What he read made no sense to him, but then he saw a black and white photo.

The millisecond he realized, his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets. Jimin went rigid. He could feel his pulse in his throat.

It was nothing less than a blessing that Namjoon suddenly appeared, startling the youngest member into locking the phone and handing it back to its owner.

The two remained stuck in some form of telepathic eye contact. With a baffled gaze, Jungkook’s face was screaming out the question. Jimin had his lips pressed together and jaw tight, eyes begging him not to say anything.

The leader looked back and forth between them, “Hello? Everyone good?”

Jungkook realized his hands were tied. He couldn’t simply obliterate this giant beast of a secret out in this public hallway. He nodded his head, “Y-Yeah, all good.”

The panicking member was caught red handed. He shoved his phone back into his pocket, faking an unperturbed smile, “We’re fine. He just came to see if I was coming to eat.”

Namjoon wasn’t buying it. This was the last straw. Jimin wasn’t okay. There was something he wasn’t being open about. Even so, this wasn’t the time or place, “Yeah, come eat with us. You had a long run.”

As a threesome, they headed into the room that held the other members, all snacking on energy-packed foods to fuel them later on. Jimin joined them, but had no appetite whatsoever. His mind was too preoccupied with trepidation to send hunger signals. Jungkook knew the biggest secret he'd ever kept from any of them. He needed to do whatever he could to ensure he wouldn't divulge.

During the dance practice, he wasn't nearly as focused. He and Jungkook kept making eye contact in the mirror, breaking one another's concentration repeatedly. It made the rehearsal drone on, as they kept messing up the choreography. One wanted a code of silence, while the other felt like he needed to shout.

The physical labor ended after a couple of hours. When it was done, the members had a quick breather to cool off. After about fifteen minutes, you and Chaeyoung entered the room with your measuring tapes draped from your necks. Whenever you and Jimin were in the same room at work, you both made conscious efforts not to pay special attention to each other. The other members took stock of how good the two of you were at hiding your feelings.

However, when Jimin noticed you walking over to Jungkook to take his measurements, he couldn’t stop himself from looking.

You smiled at the man, who looked somewhat perplexed by you, “Hey, Jungkook. How are you?”

His eyes darted from Jimin and then back to you, “Uh, great, Y/N…How are you feeling? I mean, how are you?”

Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend’s stern gaze shot upon him for that slip of the tongue.

You took the tape measure off your neck and began to wrap it around his torso, “Not too bad. Busy these days. I hardly have time for anything else.”

“I’m sure you are,” he said, well aware that Jimin was listening, “But even if you’re busy, it’s important to still make time for other things in life, like friends. Friends are so important, you know? I bet they’d be able to help you cope with whatever you’re struggling with, but only if you reach out. If you don’t, then what’s the point of even having them?”

It wasn’t a message directed toward you. The intended recipient, however, got the message loud and clear, and it vexed him. What did he think he was doing, using you to prove a point like that?

While making note of his measurements, you looked at him, lost, “Um, yeah. I guess that’s true.”

It was awkward, but there wasn’t much time to ponder about it. You and Chaeyoung had to get this information down quickly, before the guys had to run off somewhere else. She was busy taking Yoongi’s.

When you were done with Jungkook, you moved on to Jimin, only because you had to move quickly and Chaeyoung looked like she was going to do Taehyung’s next. He was the closest to you, so he was the natural next in line.

You grinned at him, “Hi.”

As was routine, he lifted his arms a bit so you could measure his midsection. You were already paying close attention to the tiny numbers on your tape when he greeted you back, shooting Jungkook a glare, “Hey.”

He thought about whispering a warning to you about the current situation, but decided not to. It would only freak you out.

Instead, he asked as you removed the tape from his torso and wrapped it around his biceps, “Did you get my text?”

Even though he kept his voice low, you hesitated to answer, “Yeah. I’m alright, just a little…bummed.”

The look on your face told him you were far more than bummed, “I called mine earlier.”

Your stomach did a flip, but you played it off as if you were having a casual conversation, using a muted voice, “How did that go?”

Jimin shrugged, smiling softly, “Honestly, not bad. I’ll tell you about it later.”

You nodded, recording his updated measurements on your notepad. In light of his parents' wisdom, your unwillingness to indicate that you were involved with him upset him. He wasn't frustrated with you personally, but with the situation itself. It crashed into him like never before - his love, the mother of his child, had to pretend she hardly knew him. And although he knew the reasons, it truly disturbed his conscience for the first time.

When you and Chaeyoung had collected all that you needed, you left. Yoongi and Namjoon went up to their studios to write, Hoseok following suit to record a demo. Taehyung and Jin went to a vocal lesson.

Jimin and Jungkook remained in the room together, much to the dismay of both. The former was firmly planted in one spot with no idea what to say or do. He wanted to rebuke the younger for speaking so candidly and thoughtlessly with you - that was far too hazardous for his comfort. Yet, he was at a loss. How could he be one to talk, when it had just been revealed that he'd been keeping something so enormous from them all?

Jungkook looked around the room, hands on his hips. The quick survey assured him that no one would hear them. He shook his head, tone surprisingly calm, "Hyung, I'm begging you to be honest now. I swear, if you try to squirm your way out of this I will kill you."

The older accepted his fate, but this place was nowhere near secure enough to have this discussion.

"Is Y/N-"

"No," Jimin stopped him, frazzled and alarmed, "Don't finish that question yet. I'll tell you everything, just not here. Please."

His eyes were so desperate that they bent the will of the other man. Jungkook pursed his lips together, annoyed to hell and back but still understanding, "Fine. Your place, then. Now."

Both men tossed their bags by the door once they got into Jimin's apartment, one out of aggravation, and the other with dread.

Not a word was spoken as they naturally gravitated toward the living room. Jimin waited to see where Jungkook was going to sit, so that he could sit opposite of him.

Both men got settled into a seat, wondering how this conversation was going to go. They were silent for a brief moment, collecting themselves so they could speak like adults.

Jungkook leaned forward, letting his forearms rest on his thighs. He was biting his tongue, giving it his all to approach this matter calmly, even though he was irate. He wanted to believe it wasn't true. There was no way Jimin could have done something like this, nevermind keep it from all of them. If this was what had been going on with him all that time, then he had to have known for a while. It would have been weeks of dishonesty - all those times he told them nothing was the matter.

The younger inhaled through his nose, "I feel like I don't even need to ask it now. We both know the topic at hand. Just tell me."

Jimin nodded for a moment without saying anything, looking anywhere but in his friend's eyes, "She's pregnant."

It was one thing to have seen the sonogram, but it was quite another to actually hear it come from his mouth. Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose, "How far along is she?"

"Nine weeks," he replied, "I found out the night before we went to Jin's."

"So you have known for a while," Jungkook's suspicion was confirmed, "Why didn't you tell us sooner, hyung? God, this is...this is fucking huge."

The older huffed, throwing his hands up in irritation, "I don't know, maybe because this has been a crazy time for me and Y/N. I mean, put yourself in my shoes. Would your first priority be telling everyone? We have been literally just trying to make it through each day."

Jungkook took a deep breath, collecting his emotions. If the situation was reversed, Jimin would be nothing but supportive. He had to be smart about how he reacted to this news.

"Look," he said with a softening tone, "I didn't mean it that to come off like a judgment. I'm sorry. It's just, as your friend, I wish you'd have come to us sooner. We've been watching you struggle for the past weeks, wondering what was wrong with you. You had us convinced for a few days after telling us that you and Y/N were official, but then your strange behavior didn't go away. And to learn that this is the reason...it's a lot to take in."

Jimin dropped the defensiveness, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his stomach in some sort of self-embrace, "Believe me, I know."

"How are you doing with it?"

He shook his head a bit and let a minuscule smile break onto his face, "That's the thing I can't figure out. I don't think there's a general feeling. There have just been moments. When I'm with Y/N, I'm mostly happy about it. I feel like I wouldn't want to have a kid with anyone else. The fear creeps in when I think about everything else - our careers as BTS, the fact that she will probably get fired over this. The thought of becoming a dad doesn't scare me nearly as much as the consequences that will come from this."

For the second time that day, he became emotional. He tried to keep it concealed, but the crack of his choked voice gave it away, "I'm terrified that she will lose it all because of this. I hate that having my baby might ruin her career. I hate that for now, I have to convince the world that I'm not in love with the woman who is carrying my child. I-I can't be there for her like a real partner. I had to miss the ultrasound, and I didn't get to hear my kid's heartbeat, because I had to be at work. And I hate that when this all eventually comes to light, there will be a media frenzy on her, on me, and probably on all of you too."

A few tears started to roll down his cheeks and he buried his face in his hands, sniffling. Jungkook reflexively stood up and went over to him. He sat on the very corner of the chair and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, "Let it out. It's okay."

Jimin broke, "Everything negative in this situation has to do with me! It all traces back to the career I worked so hard to have! They always say there's a cost to fame, and we've all experienced that, but I don't know. I just never thought about this cost."

Jungkook rubbed his back, "I agree that it's your career, but don't equate that to you personally."

"How? I'm the one that chose it."

"But you just said it yourself - you never thought about this cost. That's no reason to beat yourself up," He said, "No one ever fully grasps the downsides to fame until they have it."

Jimin was settling down now, removing his hands from his wet face and drying it with his t-shirt, "It's hurting Y/N. She's been trying so hard to tell me that she's accepted the reality, but I can see it behind her eyes, Jungkook. She'll grieve the loss of her job, and I don't even want to think about her enduring all the scrutiny she will have to face."

"She has you," Jungkook offered a reassuring grin, "Now, I don't know about her family, but I know yours. They will support both of you wholeheartedly. And you'll have all of us too. You just need to tell the rest of the members."

Jimin nodded, "I know, you're right. Both of our families know now. There's no reason not to tell them. Just give me a few days to work it out with Y/N. I can't break the news without letting her know."

The younger man concurred, "That's understandable, but for your own good, consider doing it soon. I think it will take a lot of the pressure off your back, and I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by the support."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you're our brother. We will help you make it work. And you're going to be a dad. That makes us uncles, doesn't it?" Jungkook chuckled, "There's a cause for excitement in all of this."

Jimin broke into a small laugh, "I didn't think about you all being uncles. Don't know whether it's heartwarming or concerning."

"Only time will tell," Jungkook smirked, "So when's this little Park coming?"

There was a flutter in his chest at the nickname, "The doctor said January eighth."

"And everything's looking healthy so far?"

He hummed, "Yeah. Apparently, the heartbeat was unusually strong for his or her age. That made me oddly proud."

Jungkook nudged him playfully, "I mean, it only makes sense, considering how fit you are. Your sperm's probably the healthiest known to man."

He laughed harder this time, turning to give him a jestful smack on the arm. Jimin felt better now. Not great, but better. When the laughter died down, he breathed in deeply and let it out, “God, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. When I said our parents know, I meant we’ve only just told them. Mine found out this morning.”

“Shit,” the other patted him twice on the back, “How did they take it?”

“You know my mom and dad - they weren’t leaping for joy, but it wasn’t awful. It ended on a good note,” he shrugged, “I just feel like this day is giving me whiplash.”

You got into the elevator in your apartment complex, letting your head rest against the back wall as it carried you up to your floor. You had a headache and had used up the last of your over the counter painkillers. Jimin likely had some, so you figured you’d eat dinner and then go to his place.

You felt like a towel that had been wrung out, twisted and squeezed of all energy and substance. You were desperately spent. The only thing keeping you fully present, ironically, were your mood swings.

If something didn’t go according to plan at work, you felt like you wanted to punch a hole in the wall, or cry, or both. Those were the lows. On the other end of the spectrum were short bursts of sexual urges. You prayed that you’d hidden it well enough while you were measuring Jimin earlier. Getting to touch him and examine his body like that didn’t do you your raging hormones any favors.

You put your key into the lock of your door and turned it, hearing the latch open up. Then you got inside and immediately wanted to vomit, not as a side effect, but out of shock.

The lights were on, and there were two faces sitting in your living room that you hadn’t seen in a while.

Speechless for a moment, you dropped your bag and froze in your tracks, “M-Mom? Dad?”

They got up from the couch while you remained rooted in place. Your mother was the first to give you a hug, but you barely embraced her back, far too confused.

“Hi, sweetie,” she sighed, “How are you feeling today?”

Your father hugged you next, “It’s been forever since we’ve seen you.”

You were shocked. Not even twenty four hours prior, these people were scolding you and telling you how disappointed they were in you. You stared at them, totally discombobulated. Your head was pounding so hard that you felt it in the back of your eyeballs.

“What are you both doing here?” You asked, brushing past them both and going into your quaint little living room. You needed to sit.

Your parents turned around and followed you back to their original places on your sofa. You were tucked into an armchair that was perpendicular to it.

Your mother leaned on the arm of the sofa towards you, eyes full of a lukewarm concern, “We came to have a much calmer discussion about this.”

Bringing your knees up to your chest, you asked, “You came all the way here just for that? How did you even get in?”

“You gave us a copy of your key when you moved in, remember?” your father replied, “Anyway, we aren’t happy with how we reacted to the news yesterday. We’re sorry we resorted to anger.”

Your mother sighed, “We love you, Y/N. And we realize that you are a grown woman now who can make her own choices. But as your parents, we ask that you please listen to what we have to say.”

You nodded hesitantly, “O-Okay…”

She continued, “We are worried that you aren’t considering the enormity of this, and the risk you are taking by placing so much trust in this man.”

You felt a twinge of exasperation, having had a sneaking suspicion that it was going down this route.

It must have shown on your face, because your father looked a little indignant, “Your mother is right. It appears as though you aren’t thinking this through. We don’t want to see you get hurt. Park Jimin is one of the most famous men in the world. He took advantage of you, as his type often does.”

You felt like you could have spat, “He did not take advantage of me in any way. Neither of you know him well enough to assume that about him. Jimin is a good man.”

“You are a stylist at his agency,” your mother scowled, “He knew that your position would make it impossible to disclose your relationship without putting your career on the line. He used you for his own pleasures, knowing you’d never say anything to anyone.”

Your father cleared his throat and looked down, unable to imagine his daughter fornicating with anyone, let alone a member of a global sensation like BTS. A man who had women practically falling at his feet wherever he went.

Your hormones made your reaction sharper. They were talking about the man you loved, the father of your child - denigrating him to the level of a scumbag and a womanizer, "You're both so wrong about him...I don't even know what to say. I told you already, we've been together for a year. If he'd had enough of me at any point, it would have been easy for him to toss me aside, but he hasn't. I know it's not what anyone would have envisioned, but he...he loves me. And I love him."

"We aren't here to argue over whether he loves you, Y/N," he said, "Our point is that he knows damn well how his job works. He's been perfectly willing to hide you away like some impropriety all this time. What makes you so sure he won't do the same thing with you and this baby?"

"Because he-"

You paused and closed your eyes, not wanting to finish your sentence for the sake of not sounding naive. They had you cornered and you hated it.

"Because he what?" your mother looked at you with sympathy, like you were some poor foolish girl, "Because he told you so? What good are words without action?"

You were so upset and exhausted that you felt tears prick your eyes. You looked down, "It's not that simple, Mom. In this case, action will cost me my job and who knows what else. We haven't figured much out yet, but I think we both deserve some credit for being committed to this anyway. We could have easily decided not to go through with this, but we did because we are dedicated to each other."

Your father put his hands on his knees, "And even if that is true, how will he ever be able to be there for you? I won't have my little girl stuck raising a baby alone while he galivants around the world and across every red carpet that would have him."

An angry tear rolled down your cheek, "He's not like that. I don't know how else I can convince you guys. Jimin understands the importance of being present."

"He missed the ultrasound." he said.

You shook your head, eyes closed, "Only because it was right after we found out and it was too late to change plans."

"Then will he plan on being at the next one?" your mother asked, crossing her arms.

You hugged your knees to your chest, "Yes, he will. We have a date scheduled in August."

She raised her brows, "You're telling us he will show up to a public doctor's office and risk exposing this?"

"W-Well, no. It's going to be at his apartment."

Your father scoffed, "You see? He's going to keep you and this baby a secret."

You were seething, "You know what? Yes, we are going to keep this a secret for as long as we can, because neither of us needs the media storming us while we're still trying to figure out our lives. Who would want to put themselves through that? But we've already agreed that it can't last forever - we just haven't worked out when we will take the step to tell the company and make an announcement."

Your mother reached out and put her hand on your knee, "Sweetie, we're trying to look after you, and our grandchild. We want you both to have a stable home environment."

"Well then what do you suggest we do?!" you shook out of her touch by standing up out of the chair, "It's clear that you guys won't be satisfied either way. We could keep it a secret forever or we could go public today - you'll continue to believe that he won't be there for me and that this is all a bad idea. So what? Would you rather me get an abortion or something?"

They were silent, looking at each other. You were a horrible mix of furious and embarrassed. It wasn't your intention to get so heated. You stubbornly defended your relationship, but you couldn't deny that their concerns were valid. You thought about the child in your belly. If you were standing in your parents' shoes, you'd probably have reservations too.

Then your mother looked back at you. She stood up and placed her hands on your upper arms, tone subdued, "We want you to move back home."

You were wiping tears from your eyes as you drove. It was dark outside now. Your parents got back on the road, and you followed suit. As you passed under every traffic light, you kept telling yourself to hold out just a little longer. You'd be there soon.

After pulling into the lot and parking your car, you glanced to your left, where the green-wrapped present sat in the passenger seat. Sniffling, you dried your eyes one last time and grabbed it, taking it with you into the building. You were walking with a quick gait, anguished and itching for some comfort. Fortunately, the gift in the box had the potential to bring you the solace you needed.

You took the same elevator as normal. When you reached the door, you fumbled in your pocket for the key, balancing the gift box on your thigh momentarily.

The door opened, and you heard something in the kitchen. He typically ate dinner around this time. When you appeared, he seemed delighted, but then he noticed the slight puffiness of your eyes. It was a confusing sight - you standing there upset while holding a gift.

"Hey," he put his wooden spatula down and turned down the heat on the stove so that his fried rice wouldn't burn, "What happened, sweetheart?"

He gave you a kiss on the cheek and searched the features of your face as you sighed, "Hi. I just had the longest, weirdest day."

You placed the gift down on a nearby stool and finally let yourself melt into his arms. Jimin kissed the top of your head repeatedly, "I did too."

You pulled your head off of his chest so you could look at his eyes. He was giving you an assured smile, but you still wanted to know what went on, "How come?"

His lips found your forehead before he brought you into his loving hold again, "Well, as you know, I told my parents about the baby, and then Jungkook found out by accident."

This time, you drew away from the hug completely, "Wait, say that again?”

Jimin scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah. I dropped my phone and he saw the sonogram photo.”

He saw how worried you looked and smiled, taking your hands loosely, “Don’t worry, he’s not going to tell the others. But this probably means we need to come clean soon.

You nodded, “Yeah, we should. I know it’s been hard for you keep it from them.”

“It has, but that’s a conversation for later. Tell me what’s wrong. You’ve been crying.” His eyes were plagued with distress.

“I…” you didn’t know how to start, “I got home from work and my parents were there.”

He dropped your hands, “What?”

You put you hand to your forehead, “Ugh, my head is killing me. Yeah, I walked in the door and they were just sitting waiting for me.”

Without you having to ask, Jimin turned around and headed to one of the cabinets, where he kept any medicines. As he prepared a glass of water for you to take the pills, he felt a pit in his stomach. This didn’t sound good.

“Were they that upset about yesterday?” he asked.

You took the glass of water when he offered it to you, holding out your hand to receive the capsules, “Not exactly. They came to have a better discussion about it…Only it didn’t really go that way.”

“Ah,” the hurt on his face was clear, “They still think it’s a bad idea, huh?”

There was no way you were going to elaborate on all that they said. You didn’t want to damage his feelings any further. You merely nodded, “I’m afraid so, but it’s more than that. They want me to move back home.”

He had only just started to stir his dinner on the stove again when he ceased any movement. The pit in his stomach deepened into an abyss, eyes leaking with dread as he looked at you, “But they live on the other side of the country, right?”

He couldn’t lose you. If you left, you’d be taking his child with you. And then what? How would you be able to stay together as a couple with that amount of distance? Everything you’d built over the past twelve months could crumble.

You saw how alarmed he was by the prospect and put him to ease immediately, “Yes, but I’m not going of course.”

He put his hand over his heart and exhaled, shaking his head a little, “God, please open with that next time instead of letting me think the worst.”

“Sorry,” you smiled softly before recounting their reasoning, “They say it would be best for me and the baby. I’d quit my job and live with them for a while. They think it’s the only way to guarantee a secure home environment.”

His expression could have broken your heart, and it was only scratching the surface of what your parents had said to you. Jimin kept stirring the rice, turning the heat back up a little bit. You knew him well enough to see that his avoidance of eye contact was due to a wound.

You took off your shoes and tossed them back by the door before coming to wrap your arms around him. Your cheek made its home on his sturdy back, "I'm sorry. They just don't know you yet. They haven't seen what this really is."

He sighed, his shoulders slouching. "I know. That's why I want to meet them and you to meet mine. I understand why your parents feel the way they do. And I know you're leaving a lot out to spare my feelings. That doesn't make it fun to hear, but I get it."

You held him tighter, "Then we'll find a time to meet each other's. Maybe even at the same time."

Jimin let out a subtle chuckle at the notion, and then went back to serious, "And you? Do you still believe that I can provide a secure home environment?"

You stopped hugging him, instead joining him at his side, leaning against the counter so that you could look him in his eyes, "I've had a little while to think about it. I think that the environment this baby enters will never be a normal one. You could quit BTS right now and the fame will always follow you. That automatically makes for an abnormal upbringing. But that doesn't mean we can't do things to mitigate that, and that doesn't mean we can't raise a healthy, happy child. Above all, it doesn't mean he or she will lack security. Jimin, you're one of the most loving people I've ever known."

A hint of a grin began to form on his lips. You put your hand on your still flat tummy, "Whoever is in here will feel your love and support every day. Because that's just who you are."

His smile became a little bigger, "'Who I am' feels more complete whenever you're around. Thank you."

You pushed yourself from the counter and craned your neck upward so you could kiss him, "You're welcome. Now did you make any extra for me? I haven't eaten yet."

He smirked and pecked your lips once more, "Yes, there will be enough. Grab a couple bowls, it's about done."

He dished out the meal for two and you ate in the living room, sitting on the floor and using the coffee table as the surface. It tasted like heaven to you, but you were mindful to eat it slowly for the good of your gut.

"Mm," Jimin's eyes went wide suddenly, "I didn't tell you about my parents."

You swallowed, "Oh, right. How was that?"

"Like I said earlier, not bad. They were shocked and I got chided a little bit, but I hung up feeling a deeper sense of purpose," he explained, "And I want to share it with you if it's alright."

You were intrigued by the uptick in his mood, "Yeah, please."

"They made me realize that I, and possibly the two of us together, have been so terrified to tell the company because of the consequences to ourselves. But those consequences are necessary if we want what's best for our child, so we don't have to see it as some horrible doom coming our way," he studied your face to see if it was making sense, "All I'm trying to say is that we shouldn't see it as this awful storm cloud hanging over our heads. That doesn't mean it won't be hard or painful for us, but we can at least take comfort in that we'll be doing right by our little one."

You smiled, "I like that way of thinking. You know, after seeing the ultrasound, I felt something of a bond form. I'd do anything if it meant he or she was saved from hurt, and I know we both agree that the secrecy would hurt."

Jimin nodded, "Exactly. You're such an incredible mother already, baby. I can't wait to have Doctor Yoon come here for the next scan. I hope I feel the same thing you did."

That reminded you - the gift.

"Oh!" you stood up, "One second."

He was puzzled for a moment, but then you re-entered the living room with the green present in your arms and an eager look on your face. When you first got here, he'd been so caught up trying to figure out what was wrong that he'd totally forgotten about this.

He grinned curiously, "Oh yeah, what's this for?"

You sat beside him on the floor and put it between the two of you, "For you."

He laughed, "But why?"

You shrugged, "You'll see when you open it."

He took one last bite of fried rice and then set his bowl aside. He removed the white bow first and then began to rip the paper off the box. His brows knit together as the item inside gradually became visible. You were pressing your lips together in anticipation.

When the wrapping was fully removed, Jimin read the outside of the box. Shortly, he was looking at you again, eyes spilling over with exuberance. You couldn't hold back the same expression.

You giggled at his speechlessness, "A fetal doppler, so you can hear the heartbeat."

"Y/N," he was beaming down at the box, "I don't even know what to say. Thank you."

You nodded, "I know you felt like you were missing out. With this, you can listen whenever you want. No need to wait for a doctor's appointment."

"Can we try it now?"

You grinned, "That's what I was hoping you'd say."

He shot up, taking the box and your hand with him. You laughed as you were tugged along into his bedroom. You both sat on the bed and he flipped his nightstand lamp on, giving the space adequate yet dim lighting.

You worked together to free the small machine from its encasing, discarding any extra wrappings. It came with a small monitor that would show the heart rate and had a button panel for volume control. It was attached to a cord with a wand at the other end. Separately was a tube of gel, similar to what Doctor Yoon used at your appointment.

It came with the right batteries inside, so all you had to do was turn it on and go for it.

You laid back on the bed, adjusting your pants so the wand could access the right location. You smiled and pointed at the tube of gel, "Okay, take a little bit of the gel and put it right here."

Jimin couldn't believe he was doing this, but he couldn't be more excited. He carefully squirted a good amount of the substance on your skin, "Now what?"

You giggled, "Just turn it on and use the wand to spread it around."

He found the power button on the side of the monitor and pushed it, making the small screen light up. Before placing the wand on your belly, he made sure the volume was turned up. Then he laid on his side next you you, head propped up resting in his palm.

When the wand first made contact with your skin, there was hardly any sound. Thankfully, it only took a few seconds of spreading the gel around to start to hear something.

Jimin's features were fully alert instantly. He found the right spot and held it there, enthralled by the pulsing sound. His lips parted slightly as he stayed in a state of motionless elation. When it finally began to register, he broke into a joyous smile, "Oh my God, there it is!"

You laughed, basking in his happiness, "It sounds just as strong as it was before."

The immense weight of the day was lifted from him. He leaned closer to your belly, keeping the wand in place, "H-Hi, baby. It's Daddy. I hear you now."

You were overflowing with adoration for this man. Once you saw his brown eyes glisten with gleeful tears, you began to get choked up as well. He couldn't help it. In fact, he didn't even realize it was happening until one streak came down his face. All that you'd both been through in the past month, and all that you would go through in the months to come - it would all be unimaginably rewarded when the owner of this precious heartbeat came into the world.

Jimin wiped the tear from his cheek and sniffled, turning his focus to you now, "Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you so much. This is…it means everything to me.”

You grinned contentedly, “It does for me too.”

The two of you listened some more. The thumping was persistent and even. You daydreamed in your own minds, alleviating yourselves of any stress, even if it was just for this one moment.

He laughed, “I can’t believe we made this little heart together. You might come to regret giving me this.”

“You love it that much, huh?” you giggled.

“I wont be able to get enough of it.”

“That’s okay,” you said, “It gives me an excuse to come over more often.”

He hummed at the idea, still intently focused on the sight of your exposed abdomen and the sound coming through the monitor. You then watched as his blissful smile faded, and his eyes fell into a contemplative state.

His voice sounded distant as the gears were turning in his mind, “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“When is the lease on your apartment up?”

#angst #jimin x reader #bts #fanfic #jimin #park jimin #romance #bts fanfic #bts fic #established rp #pregnant #jimin fluff #fluff #jimin angst

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darknesscreepin · 2 months ago

Text

choi jiho | c.jh

pairing: dom!reader x sub!jiho

warnings: reader kinda mean, perv!jiho tease, spitting, handjob, exhibitionismish, jiho cries.

summary: choi jiho is a lying loser who can’t seem to stfu so you take matters into you own hands.

you aren’t the type to be overly excited about parties. it’s not like you hated them, but you never benefited from them. the thought of regretful one night stands and hangovers was enough to make you decline your friend’s invite to a party.

“c’mon y/n! it’ll be so funny with you there. seriously, you never come out with us.” kamden, your friend of two years was shamelessly pleading you. you looked past him and saw your other friends silently begging you to go out with them.

after a moment in thought, you finally agreed. it has been a while since you went out and got fucked up—you were nervous for what the night might bring, but excited.

you were at kamden’s house getting ready for the evening. he lived with another mutual friend of yours, brian. the plan was, the three of you ride together, and the rest of your friends meet you there. unfortunately the other half of your group, would be behind schedule, leaving you to venture the party alone. you already knew how things would roll out— kamden would immediately find his way to a beer keg, inevitably brian would follow him and record videos while laughing hysterically.

part of you was wishing you had stayed home, but deep down you acknowledged you needed to get out more. sure, you were kinda nervous. you weren’t used to wandering around a house with dozens of strangers bumping into you. you were usually accompanied by four other people who made the night easier.

you finally accepted the fact that you couldn’t just stand in a corner until your friends arrived. you pushed yourself off a wall and began walking to the kitchen to get a drink. you felt the absence of your friends and decided to get drunk with them, so you poured yourself a non-alcoholic drink. after filling a styrofoam cup with sprite, you spotted a familiar figure in the crowd of bodies.

it looked like choi jiho—he was also a friend of kamden and brian’s. the two of you weren’t exactly civil with each other, so you didn’t consider him a friend. he was especially stuck up, in your opinion, and you were ‘an annoying bitch,’ according to him.

it was weird though—how mean jiho was to you. sure, you hated him, but you tried to avoid him at all costs. jiho on the other hand, went out of his way to bother you. with that thought in mind, you hurriedly began walking in the opposite direction of jiho, but then you heard a voice call out to you.

“y/n!” you stopped and cringed at the familiar voice. “y/n is that you? hey!” you resumed making your way through the crowd until you felt a grip on your wrist.

you looked back and sighed, seeing it was jiho. what could he possibly want?

“you didn’t hear me calling you?” he says, followed by a chuckle.

“no i didn’t hear you, do you need something?” you asked. you figured it’d be best to interact with him once, and to get it over with as fast as possible.

“what do you mean, girl? we’re friends.” girl. friends. the words made you roll your eyes and you went to walk away but, jiho stopped you again.

“let’s go people watch. you’re super judgy so you’ll be great at this.” he said while pulling you away to some random corner. he wasn’t being as crude as he usually was, but he still seemed so passive. jiho lead the two of you to a corner, where you both leaned against a wall. you had a perfect view of everyone who was entering and exiting through the front door, so you made sure to keep a lookout for your friends.

you stood quietly, occasionally sipping on your drink. jiho was currently pointing people out and guessing their life story. you drowned out majority of his words until he spoke in a disgusted tone.

“oh, who the fuck is that dude?” his arm was completely outstretched, index finger clearly on a target. you followed his arm with your eyes and a gasp came out of your mouth.

your eyes landed on a man with dark brown hair, and a sculpted face. your eyes lingered on him—he was beautiful. it took you a moment but you finally noticed your friends were walking in front if him. no, they were walking with him? and towards you and jiho. you had a confused look on your and your face, and you turned your head to look at jiho.

“why the hell is he coming over here?” he was obviously just as confused, but why was he mad?

your friends had finally reached you and you all took turns hugging each other. the guy was just standing behind your friends, watching with a smile on his face. one of your friends noticed you staring and quickly got to talking

“oh my god, sorry for not introducing you guys! y/n this is evan. he’s one of my friends from high school and he came back to town, so y’know, i’m being hospitable.” your friend said, laughing like she just said the funniest thing ever.

you stepped towards evan, outreaching your hand to shake his. you looked up at him, and he smiled.

“nice to meet you y/n. your friends told me how funny you are.” you awkwardly smiled and your eyes shifted towards your friends. they fucking set you up.

“oh did they huh? i can be quite the clown when i wanna be.” you said and forced out a fake laugh. your friends took that as their cue to leave.

“well, we’re gonna go find kammy and brian, you two have fun!” you stood still. there was a smiling evan, standing in front of you— and an arrogant jiho standing behind you. who would you rather be with right now? you didn’t even have to think before grabbing evan’s hand and pulling him to another part of the house. jiho threw his hands up in disbelief and had a “wtf how could you do that to me” look on his face. you just laughed, you didn’t owe him anything. especially not your company.

you and evan finally found your way to the patio outside. the two of you had been talking for about half an hour—learning that you had a lot in common so there a lot to talk about. you couldn’t stop smiling while speaking to him, and you secretly thanked your friends. after a few more minutes you stood up.

“hey, i’m gonna find a bathroom. are you still gonna be here?” you asked, your thumb pointing towards the house. evan smiled at you again.

“of course, where will i go?” you nodded your head and started towards the glass, sliding doors that lead to the patio. on your way in, you spotted jiho walking out. it wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong, so you just continued to the bathroom.

as you washed your hands, you laughed. recalling a joke evan just made a few minutes ago. you were excited to get back to him so you rushed your process a bit and dried your hands on your shirt.

on your way back out, you saw jiho again. this time he was sitting in the living room and he had a huge smile on his face. you were confused, and something about him doing that made you angry. you slid the glass door open and saw evan pacing with a frown on his face. your smile dropped and you walked towards him with more urgency. maybe something happened and he had to leave. you finally stopped in front of him and spoke.

“hey, is everything okay?” he looked up at you and gave you a half smile.

“i’m sorry y/n, i didn’t know there was anything going on between you and that jiho guy.” your face scrunched up immediately at what you were hearing.

“wait what-?” your head was shaking vigorously, heart pounding.

“yeah, he just told me about you guys. i wish you would have told me, but i enjoyed talking to you.” he gave you one last smile before walking off. you stood there dumbfounded, trying to piece together what just happened—then you remembered. you remembered seeing jiho walking to the patio when you went to the bathroom.

with your hands balled in fists, you went inside and looked for jiho. you found him getting another drink and stopped.

“let’s go.” you were fuming and you were itching to hurt jiho. he looked at you and laughed.

“let’s go? i’m not gonna fucking follow-“ you grabbed him by his hair mid sentence and started walking towards the bathroom. his hands were holding his head, and he winced in pain.

you twisted the doorknob to the bathroom and pushed jiho in before you. you entered the room and immediately after locking the door, you slapped him.

“what the fuck did you say to him jiho? seriously, why the fuck are you such a loser?” you pushed his chest and he was up against the sink.

“what are you talking about i have no idea-!” you slapped him again, harder than the first. it fell silent and you took time to breathe, try to reassess the situation. your hands were on your hips as you faced away from jiho, eyes locked on the ground.

you took a final deep breath and turned towards jiho again, eyes still on the floor. your eyes slowly panned over jiho from his feet until you met his eyes. you blinked rapidly, in disbelief before your eyes made way back to his crotch.

“are you fucking hard right now!” you looked at jiho and he had a smug expression on his face.

“what the fuck could possibly be causing you to have an erection right now jiho?” you weren’t done yet, and his demeanor made you more upset so you hit him a third time.

your palm made contact with his cheek and you swore you heard a…whine? he’s getting turned on from me hitting him? fucking loser. the realization made you smile and you looked at jiho. if he was gonna fuck up your night, you might as well have some fun.

his eyes were wide and he looked slightly embarrassed. you walked to him and grabbed him by his chin.

“you’re so pathetic jiho, seriously. you get off to girls being mean to you?” your head was tilted to the side and you had a fake pout on your lips. “bet you jerk this cock to the thought of a girl screaming at you huh?” your unoccupied hand grabbed his dick through his pants and he gasped. his eyes went wide again and his cock twitched in your hand.

“so what the fuck did you say to him?” you asked, anger still evident in your voice.

“what did i say to who?” this time he didn’t seem to be acting. he genuinely already appeared dumb and fucked out by just a few slaps and groping his cock. you shook your head, jaw dropped at how easy he was.

“what’d you say to evan, dumb boy? what made him believe you and i were a fucking thing?” he shuddered at the name you called him and he looked you in your eyes.

“i told him how much we fucked and stuff. told him you spent a few weeks at my family’s beach house over the summer.” your mouth opened and you brought the hand that was gripping his chin, to his hair. you pulled his head back and felt yourself getting hot.

“i would never fuck you jiho. you know why? cause you’re a fucking perv that doesn’t know how to talk to women!” you heard another vulnerable noise come from jiho and you paused. never in a thousand years, did you think seeing choi jiho in such a compromising manner would turn you on. the way he answered you truthfully, the noises, his expression—it all made you want him.

“take off your pants right now.” you demanded. for a moment he snapped out of his daze and looked at you as if you admitted to a mass murder.

“now. or i’ll leave this room.” after hearing that threat, he quickly moved to take his pants off. you nodded at him and tapped his chest.

“take this off too.” you said, referring to his shirt. he lifted the article above his head and it fell to the ground. he had everything off excluding his underwear and you took a step back, looking at him. his waist was defined and you caught yourself staring. he sheepishly moved his body, as if to hide from you and you smiled.

you put your hand on one side of his waist and whispered in his ear.

“i didn’t know you were so pretty choi. if only you could just keep that mouth shut, i would’ve given you a chance a long time ago.” your tongue flicked against his ear and he let out a small breath.

“lying about fucking me. so stupid, you could have asked. who knows i probably would’ve said yes.” your hand inched under the waistband of his underwear and rested on his dick.

“i woulda milked this cock if you were nicer, hmm.” you slowly started moving your hand up and down his length. “but you’re so mean, so annoying to me.” jiho’s mouth was open and he looked you in you eyes, taking in everything you were saying. you could feel precum leaking onto your hand.

“i just like you.” his voice was small and airy. his eyes were locked in on yours and he looked desperate.

“you like me, so every time i’m in your presence you make me want to hurt you? you don’t know how to talk to a fucking girl?” you asked, quickening your pace. his breathing also picked up and he put a hand on your shoulder to support himself.

“i mean look at you—you have me in a bathroom trying to get you to cum. i was just hitting you and you were being so slutty for me.” jiho threw his head back at your words and you pulled his cock out from the fabric restricting it. you put both of your hands on his length and started slowly pumping again.

“look at you, dumb boy. so much to say any other time, but you’re just trying to focus on getting your dick drained.” you shook your head and jutted out your bottom lip.

jiho just whined. his whines were high and strained, like he using his last breath to get them out—it was so hot, watching him react. the way he squirmed, the way he’d grip the side of the sink, and place his hands onto yours. he was so out of it.

“i think i’m gonna cum.” his voice was small, filled with air. you looked at him and saw his eyes were now filled with tears, his expression was pleading. you didn’t want the fun to be over just yet, so you denied him of his orgasm.

“oh you better not cum. wanna see you cry, jiho. bet you look so pretty when you cry, yeah?” your tone was so mocking, it made jiho almost embarrassed. you continued stroking him faster, while bringing your other hand to his tip. your thumb grazed back and forth, over his slit in a constant motion.

jiho’s mouth fell open, you could see drool pooling from the corner of his pretty lips. you felt his hips bucking into your fist so you decided to stop moving your hands. he looked down at you and shook his head. his eyes gathered more tears while he began to protest.

“why’d you stop? i was so close. please.” he was so needy—but not enough. you wanted him to break him. so every time you saw him in public, he’d remember how you made him cry and beg for you.

“no no, not yet. open your mouth really fast.” you didn’t expect him to actually do what you said, but a smile stretched across your face when you saw his tongue hanging out of his mouth. you pressed a kiss to the very corner of his mouth and began to gather saliva in your mouth. you placed both hands on his face and brought it close to yours. with your thumb on his bottom lip, you let a string of spit slowly make it’s way into his mouth. a moan escaped his throat as soon as the saliva touched his tongue. the way he looked at you now was so much different to the way he did before. all your other encounters with jiho, he always glared at you, eyes low, eyebrows furrowed, and lips upturned.

now, he looked at you in awe. his pupils were dilated, sweat was beading on his forehead, and it seemed like he’d do anything you asked. you decided to test that theory and make him do a few things.

“if you really wanna cum, i think you’d just touch yourself for me.” his face immediately fell to a frown.

“no y/n please, i need you to touch me, please.” hearing your name come out of his mouth, so vulnerably made you indescribably horny. you still stood your ground.

“but i wanna see how jiho touches himself. need to see how you make yourself feel good. so dumb, do you even know how to use that cock?” you saw his eyes light up and his dick twitched in his lap.

“i love the way you talk to me.” his hands gripped his leaking dick and he began to stroke, long and slow. a few hisses could be heard coming from him. his dick was turning a light shade of red, and he was getting overstimulated from the sensations. still he didn’t stop. his movements gradually sped up and he became sloppier. he was alternating between hands, his moans were getting louder, but thankfully drowned out by the music.

“please. please y/n, can i cum for you?” his eyes were fluttering, and the tears finally broke free. he let out a high pitched whine and licked his lips. “please touch me. want to cum for you, please.”

watching the continuous flow of tears stream down his face, satisfied you. you stepped towards jiho and replaced his hand with yours. one of his arms was thrown around your shoulder as he supported himself against you. your grip on his dick was so deliciously tight, he welcomed the feeling. his breathing was getting heavier and you could tell he was getting close. you quickened your pace and used the palm of your other hand to massage his red, mushroom head. his lip jutted out and his eyes were so glossy.

“y/n please. i’m gonna cum.” you knew he couldn’t hold on any longer so you allowed him to cum. whispering degrading things in his ear.

“oh look at that, you stupid puppy. getting your nasty cum all over my hand.” his body shook against yours and he wrapped both hands around your neck as you continued to slowly pump him. whimpers left his mouth and he continued to squirt his cum onto your hand and on the bathroom floor. you kissed his neck, and wet cheeks as he was coming down from his high. he wasn’t getting aftercare so you figured that was the least you could do.

jiho slowly removed himself from you and you could tell he was embarrassed. you laughed, watching him put his clothes on while you washed your hands.

“uh…if you’d be down to ever do that again, we so could. like i mean if you want to, cause it’s up to you, y’know.” jiho said shyly. his tone was soft and his hair was still damp on his forehead. a smile came across your face as you thought for a second. you definitely wouldn’t mind seeing jiho like that again, but why let him know that?

“we’ll see, cutie. also clean your cum off the floor.” you said pointing to the puddle he left. you opened the door to the bathroom and quickly ran out, getting as far away from it as possible. it’s not like this is one of the regretful one night stands—if you could call it that, but you were super giddy. i mean you just made choi jiho cry for you.

you found your friends after a few minutes of wandering. you guys spent the rest of the night getting fucked up and you totally didn’t do anything you regretted.

the next morning you woke up and checked your phone. you had a instagram dm request from an account.

choicestickji : can i take you out sometime?

what the fuck did you get into?

a/n: this is so not how i imagine jiho being towards someone he likes but i loved this scenario sm. also i had to make evan as vague as possible cause this isn’t about him😝ummm originally i wanted this to be a oneshot but i might make another part hmmm💭

#sub!idol #sub!kpop #ampers&one #kpop smut #ampersandone #sub!amperson&one #ampersandone jiho #ampers&one jiho #choi jiho #sub!jiho #sub!choijiho #ineedhim

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aphroditelovesu · 7 months ago

Text

Persian Queen

❝commission: non-con/dun-con smut with Alexander the Great where the Reader is the Queen of Persia and Alexander decides to... know the Reader in front of the King and Reader enjoys it.

❝ 📜 — lady l: I really need to try to improve my smuts... But I don't write them that often :V anyway, I hope you like it! Forgive me for any mistakes!! ❤️

❝tw: non-con/dub-con elements, smut, NSFW, threat of murder, adultery.

❝📜pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.

❝word count: 1,833.

Your heart was racing and it felt like it was beating harder and harder inside your chest with every step you took towards the new chambers of the new King of Persia.

Alexander of Macedonia.

You felt your mouth go dry with disgust. He was not the King, just a barbarian who invaded your Empire and took it at the cost of the lives of thousands of people. Darius, your husband, tried to fight against the Macedonians but even the strength and power that the Persians possessed were not enough to stop Alexander's ambition for Persia.

And now, you were his hostages.

You looked at one of the windows in the hallway and observed what little you could see of the city. Babylon was a beautiful and lively city and even with the occupation of the Macedonians this had not changed. And for that you were grateful.

When you reached the door to Darius's and now Alexander's old chambers, you took a deep breath and mentally counted to three and when you did, you finally knocked on the door hesitantly.

"Come in." A loud, hoarse voice resounded from within the chambers. You slowly opened the door and peeked inside. You felt your anxiety increase, your breathing become heavy when you noticed that Alexander was with Darius, your husband.

And Darius was securely strapped to a gold-trimmed chair.

You entered the room slowly and closed the door behind you, feeling terrified of what could happen.

Alexander looked at you with a smile gracing his lips. You felt a shiver run down your spine due to what that smile could mean.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Your Majesty." Alexander said, looking at you with interest shining in his different colored eyes. One brown and one blue. You cursed yourself for finding them beautiful, for finding Alexander an attractive man.

One thing you found good about Alexander, perhaps the only thing, was that he still treated you with respect and dignity. Although he had the right to kill you or send you into slavery, he allowed you to maintain your status as Queen, your privileges and all your due honors.

"I say the same, my King." You tried to hide the disgust you felt when calling him King. Alexander wasn't your king, at least you didn't consider him one.

You turned your gaze to Darius, who looked slightly terrified, although he hid it well. But you knew him and you knew that what he felt was pure fear. Fear for him and for you.

Alexander followed your gaze and smiled, "Your husband is here to have full knowledge of my plans as King of Persia."

You swallowed hard, "... What does that mean?"

You had a bad feeling when Alexander approached you and stood behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders covered in the rich fabric that adorned your body.

Alexander tilted his head to the side and you suppressed a groan of revulsion — that's what you believed it was — when his warm breath caressed the sensitive skin of your neck.

Alexander's hands went to your arms, caressing them with his calloused fingers. You closed your eyes, not being able to bear to look at Darius, who was watching everything angrily.

You felt your face heat up when you felt Alexander's calm breath in your ear, "It means I'm going to take you as mine."

You felt your body tense even more as Alexander's words registered in your mind. What they meant.

In the blink of an eye, Alexander spun you around so you were facing him. When you looked into his eyes, you saw desire, pure lust shining in them. Alexander smiled and brought his index finger to your chin, lifting it. You held your breath as he brought your face closer to his, capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

Your body trembled slightly at the brush of his lips against yours. You closed your eyes when Alexander brought his hands to your head, holding it as he kissed you harder, with more passion. You opened your mouth a little wider when you felt Alexander's tongue on your lips, indicating that he wanted to deepen the kiss and, for some inexplicable reason, you allowed it.

You hesitantly wrapped your arms around the conqueror's strong body, kissing him back with the same desire. It was wrong for many reasons, but it had been a while since you had been touched and Alexander's kisses were hot, they warmed your body in a way that even the thickest fur blankets couldn't.

It was the kind of kiss, of touch, that you knew you would never forget.

When you separated, your breathing was ragged, your face hot and your lips slightly swollen. You refused to look him in the eye, feeling guilty for having betrayed your husband, who was watching everything. Alexander noticed this and smiled mischievously.

''Don't worry about him.'' He purred and grabbed your hand, pulling you to the huge bed in the middle of the room. Bed you knew well enough, remembering the passionate and steamy nights you used to have with Darius. You shook your head, trying not to think about it as you were laid down on the bed by Alexander.

You knew what was going to happen, you knew what Alexander planned to do the moment you felt him analyzing your clothes. Your body trembled slightly at the thought, but you couldn't help the heat that was also inflicted on your body as you were kissed. It had been so long since you and your husband had slept that it wasn't your fault that your body betrayed your mind.

Alexander removed his own robes, a white chiton with some gold trim, and let them fall to the carpet. He approached the bed, where you remained lying like a beautiful statue. He climbed onto the huge bed, sitting next to you. His calloused hands ran over your face gently, caressing it with tenderness that you knew could melt your defenses easily.

''Beautiful...'' He whispered, kissing your forehead gently. You smiled weakly at the compliment. Alexander kissed your lips softly, his hands going to your legs, caressing your soft thighs. He squeezed them tightly, drawing a sigh from you. You bit back a moan when you felt his fingers dangerously close to your center covered only by your clothing. Alexander smiled and without you being able to do anything, he slid two fingers into your intimacy, arching his eyebrow when he felt the moisture there.

You blushed heavily and turned your head, looking to the side. Alexander began to lift the hem of your dress, exposing your legs and leaving them free to be touched and appreciated. You let out a soft moan when Alexander's fingers rubbed your pleasure spot between your legs, making you relax your body, opening your legs a little wider. Alexander took the opening and slipped between your legs, caressing your thighs with one hand and the other exploring your wet cunt.

''A-Ah...'' You sighed when Alexander finally entered a finger into your tight, wet hole. Your body felt hot, the robes you wore didn't help with how hot the room became.

Alexander smiled even wider and kissed the inside of your warm thighs, inserting a second finger into your pussy. You cursed as he moved back and forth and your sensitive walls squeezed his fingers. You were already wet and ready, your cunt sensitive to the touch it hadn't had in a long time.

''You're so beautiful, so soft.'' Alexander purred, removing his wet fingers from your pussy and taking them to his mouth, tasting you. You felt like you were going to pass out at the sight, at the sight of him delighting in your taste.

He stood over you, bringing his face closer to yours and taking your lips in another passionate kiss, and this time, without any hesitation, you kissed him back, your tongues meeting. Alexander pulled the top part of your dress down, ripping off the jewelry that adorned you and throwing them anywhere in the room. He stopped kissing you and went down to your breasts and licked the tip of your right breast, sucking it a little hard.

You moaned at the contact and threw your head back, enjoying the licks. Your breasts have always been a sensitive part of you and it only proved more and more that Alexander paid attention to them and the desire inside you grew more and more. You didn't even notice when you started rubbing one thigh against the other, in an attempt to alleviate the desire.

But Alexander noticed and he decided not to make you wait any longer to be filled. He positioned himself correctly between your thighs and you caught a glimpse of his erection. Your face turned a shade of scarlet with his visible desire, the tip leaking precum. Alexander grabbed your thighs, lifting them a little for a better angle. He placed the tip of his cock against the entrance to your pussy and, after squeezing your thigh once more, Alexander thrusted into you hard.

You moaned loudly at the sudden intrusion and gripped the sheets tightly, your knuckles turning white. Alexander didn't really give you time to adjust, he just started fucking you hard, pushing you harder against the silk sheets.

The only sounds in the room were your moans and Alexander's hoarse moans. He grabbed your left breast, squeezing it as he thrust his hips hard, slamming into you. You threw your head back, your eyes closing as all you felt was Alexander inside you.

''So fucking beautiful...'' Alexander groaned, watching your face. You were so beautiful. And so his. Alexander didn't care that Darius, your husband for now, was watching him take you. Alexander just wanted you.

Alexander squeezed your thighs tighter as he felt his climax approaching. Feeling this, he started to hit you harder, eliciting loud moans from you. When he finally came, he moaned your name loudly like a prayer, his cum filling your warm insides. Alexander took a deep breath and pulled away from you.

You continued to lie down, feeling as guilty as you were satisfied. You could feel Alexander's seed inside you, with the possibility of making you pregnant. But you were too breathless to do anything, too tired to care.

Alexander smiled and turned to Darius, who had an expression of fury. The conqueror had almost forgotten the former King.

''Now that I have taken your Empire and now your wife...'' Alexander smiled mischievously at Darius, ''The time has come to take your life so that I can marry your wife.''

The Macedonians loved to conquer what did not belong to them.

#history #yandere history #yandere historical characters #alexander the great x reader #yandere Alexander the Great #yandere alexander the great x reader #imagine #yandere imagine #smut #commission

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neonacity · 2 months ago

Text

ARCANE : INIZIO | CH.8 | NCT DREAM X READER

Summary: When human deviants granted with the abilities of the legendary Arcana cards find themselves racing against devious forces, they are left to make a choice that might change the fate of the world itself: be the victims of the game, or become the masters of it themselves.

But will this war end with a crowned hero?

Or will it just create another mad villain?

*****

Note: This is the second book of Arcane. The happenings in this story is a prequel to the first installment which you can check in my Masterlist.

Pairings: Dream 00’ Line + Mark x Reader

Trigger Warnings/Themes: romance, violence, torture, trauma, poly dynamics, suggestive themes, language, psychological, mystery, sci-fi. The concept of the tarot or Arcana cards will be loosely used throughout the series. This is a work of fiction, and the boys are just my muses. I do not post anywhere else but here on Tumblr.

CHAPTER SONG: Anywhere | Evanescence

Index of characters and lore: (x)

Previously > CH. 1 | CH.2 | CH.3 | CH.4 | CH.5 | CH.6 | CH.7

****

Cold fingers ghosted over your skin, teasing you to slowly wake from your slumber. His touch was gentle as they traced your spine but the roughness of his calouses made you shiver and melt even more against his touch. Jeno felt it and moved his head a little to brush his lips against your forehead. You sighed, the action warming his bare collarbones with your breath.

"Are you awake?"

"No..."

You felt him slightly smile against your hair. You didn't want to open your eyes, afraid that the moment you do, he will pull away from you again. It's been so long since you had him close like this, so open and raw, and you are willing to put in the line anything just so you could live off of this moment for as long as you can.

"Look at me..."

"Jen, it's past midnight. You can leave before daybreak. I don't think anyone will care at all—"

"Run away with me."

You froze in his arms. Slowly, you pulled away to look at him, wondering for a moment if you heard his words well and clear. He looked too beautiful in the shadows of your room to be saying lies he didn't mean. Desperately, you tried to look for a hint in his eyes of guilt, but instead he only met your gaze with an openness that made your throat catch.

"What...?"

Jeno slightly turned towards you and raised a hand to cradle your cheek. His thumb made gentle strokes on your lips for comfort.

"Run away with me. Let's leave everything behind and start somewhere. Anywhere."

You were speechless. Unconsciously, you held back his hand to stop him from distracting you with his touch. He let you do it, but the look he gave you did nothing to soften his determination.

"Jeno, we can't leave the family. You know that. We're both—"

"Masters of a system that we both didn't want nor wished for," he said, cutting you off before you could even finish the words he's heard from you countless of times. "Don't you see? We've always had a choice. Being born into this doesn't mean you have to carry this burden forever."

He sounded so vulnerable yet so held back in that moment that you just knew he had been thinking about this for so long. Is this why he had been avoiding you since you went back to Rosewood?

"Our lives has been set for us the moment the Arcanas chose us as their masters. To have these powers mean we have a role to play. All of us do," you answered back in a tone that almost sounded as if you were begging. You can't help it. Never in your life have you ever considered this, the freedom he is talking about.

"And I choose a life with YOU," he shot back as he finally pulled away from you to stand up from the bed. You sat up as well, your heart dropping at the distance he put between the two of you. The desperation and frustration in his voice was like a slap on raw skin. You watched as he paced and ran his hand through his hair, a gesture that told you it was costing him his everything to say these things now.

"You say there is a war coming, but you don't have to fight it. None of us do. Your father has always given you a choice to run away from this, but you've held back thinking you need to pay a debt you didn't even make in the first place," he paused, before finally facing you again.

"I've made my choice. And I only have ever wanted you."

Silence rang in the wake of his words. You looked at him lost, and he did the same but with an intensity you have never seen in him before. There are only a couple of things in your cursed life that you have always been sure of. One, that tragedy is in your horizon, no matter how much you try to run away from it.

Two, you want Jeno.

Just as desperately, foolishly, and madly he wants you.

Your gaze finally lowered as you let your thoughts consume you whole. Jeno, seeing that as a clear refusal, sadly softened his shoulders in defeat. He looked away and stepped back.

"Forget it."

"We leave at dawn."

This time, it was his turn to freeze. He looked back at you, stunned and silent. You met him head on, your gaze clear and also determined for the first time in years.

"Let's leave together... I want you. I'm not running away again."

*******

Betrayal has a distinct taste.

It’s metallic and sharp, like the bite of blood sitting at the back of your throat that you can never seem to wash.

It also has a distinct smell. One of burnt embers, tossing in the hearth as they melt into smoke.

Betrayal has a distinct color. Oftentimes, it comes in shades of blood and rust. But sometimes, it can also be of flowers…

Trying to cover the bite of poison under their deceiving bright colors.

The man standing in front of the dying fire tried his best to ignore the curve of the deep red lips that smiled at him from the shadows. He wanted nothing more but to get his current business in this cursed room done and over with, but the devil of a woman sitting across him seems to find joy from seeing him internally suffer.

He guessed her reaction was warranted if he were in her position.

Miyoung Lee, renowned doctor and scientist, and one half of Cypher—the leading research institute in this part of the world—was about to unlock what no other academic has done before. Access to powers way beyond the mundane world that govern the aether and the ether… and maybe even the ability to control them.

All because of him. Particularly, what he is about to do.

Junho Lee, a renowned member of the secret Arcana Family, born and destined to protect the celestial forces that were lent to chosen human descendants would probably be the last person anyone would suspect to betray the clan. As a direct son and current head of the main Lee branch, he holds pride in his roots. Before him, his ancestors have made history as Arcana masters themselves. And while he had not been granted the same powers as them, he is about to make his own mark by being the father of one yet to be the greatest of them all.

“Tomorrow, yes?”

“At the break of dawn.”

“And you can confirm that he has no suspicions? At all?”

Junho paused for a moment, watching the fire lick a turning ember on the hearth. The Headmaster of Rosewood Academy is a keen man and a powerful one, but he is also a person with unwavering trust in his circle. Unfortunately for him, he decided to put it on Junho. And now they both have to pay a fair price for it.

“He has none. I made sure the trail is clear.”

The slight creaking of a chair followed by the dull thud of heels against mahogany made him brace. It took him everything he had so as not to flinch at the feeling of long sharp nails running up his shoulders, before tapping the lapel of his coat almost mockingly.

“Good. I have trust in your word, Mr. Lee. After all, you know what it will cost you if you betray me.”

This time, he couldn’t stop himself from stiffly turning at the woman, his eyes cold as steel. Miyoung smiled back with the look of a feral goddess.

“You will not hurt my son.”

“I shall not hurt him if you keep your word. That is the arrangement.”

He balled his fists under the cover of his pockets at the way she said it so smoothly, as if she was talking about the weather rather than the fate of a whole secret society and the individual lives that make it. The first time Junho met the woman, he knew from the start that she was a different kind of evil. But then again, are they really much different? He who has chosen this path for the sake of revenge and glory?

“And the girl too. Don’t forget about her,” he replied. Miyoung took a step back and gave a wave of her hand as if it was just an afterthought she couldn’t care less about.

“Yes, of course. I do not understand the need to save a plain human but I have not forgotten.”

He took that as a signal to leave. He never particularly liked these clandestine meetings and he also didn’t need a reason to be suspected by anyone. Turning towards the door, he barely gave the woman a look as he passed her.

“Keep your word, and you might have the world.”

*******

You might as well have gone mad.

Yes. There is no doubt that you have finally lost your mind the moment you slipped out of the shadowy hallway, your eyes having long adjusted into the darkness by now. In front of you, Jeno’s back looked strong and determined as he led the way, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings for anything and anyone. Even as he moved to guide you, he kept his hand locked with yours as you both traced the steps leading to your escape.

Escape. A heavy word to describe what you two are about to do, but a fitting one nonetheless. The irony, however, lies in the fact that you are not running away from anyone. Your father would be more than happy if you step away from this life and you doubt any of the others will try to hold you back. No, what you are escaping from is your own self. Your identity as a member of the Family and the life you've thought you'll have to see through until your very last breath. Jeno is doing the same, both of you deciding to leave behind parts of yourself that have been bound to your souls since the very beginning.

Yes, after today, you will no longer be IL Matto, and he, La Morte. You will live your life as normal people, and that will be more than enough.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do anything else before we leave?” Jeno spoke in a whisper and you noted how a slight flash of guilt took his gaze. “Maybe write a letter to your father?”

You hesitated briefly, and you knew Jeno felt it with the way he ran his thumb over your hand. A letter is a good idea… at least a word that can let your father know of your decision. However, the thought of doing something so actively as to say goodbye is already choking you up, as if it would make your actions all the more real. So instead, you slightly shook your head and motioned for him to continue walking.

“The sun will be up in less than an hour. We should go…”

He didn’t question you anymore, his answer coming in a gentle squeeze of your hand. The skies beyond the wide windows running through the hallways are already starting to stain with the faintest golden red and you both continued on, silent in agreement and purpose.

It was in the last hallway, just before you could both breakthrough the back exit of the academy that Jeno suddenly paused. Peering from around his back, you saw darker shadows moving against the darkness, as if the source of it sensed your presence.

“Keep back,” he whispered against you as another dark figure lengthened in front of him. He had called on his arcana to act as your shield.

“Jeno…”

“Jeno?”

You both stiffened at the sound of the voice. Just as soon as it appeared, Jeno’s shadow warrior dissipated, revealing a baffled looking Jaemin behind it.

The silence that followed was thick. Jaemin’s eyes looked at you both, before his gaze flickered towards your joined hands. The sight of it made a look of realization dawn on his face, and for the first time, you felt panic crawling up your throat.

“Jaemin–”

You were ready to go on a full-blown explanation when he suddenly nodded towards the exit behind him.

“You both better leave now if you don’t want the others seeing you.”

You blinked, shocked and confused. Meanwhile, Jeno was quiet in front of you, watching his best friend.

“What are you doing here?”

The silver haired boy shrugged off the other’s question with a slight smile.

“We’ve been stationed to go on rounds in guarding the castle. The other hyungs are at the front. Luck is really on your side for choosing this route. If you decided to have done this yesterday, you would have had Haechan catching you both.”

Your gaze moved from Jeno and then to the other boy. For some reason, you felt like they are both talking in codes you couldn’t understand.

“Hey, don’t look so startled, angel. I’m here to keep the bad guys out, not keep you both in here,” Jaemin said in his usual smooth fashion. He gave Jeno a quick look then. “Besides, everyone knows this will happen sooner or later.”

Something about his words triggered something in you, and without even realizing it, you found yourself letting go of Jeno’s hand and going over to Jaemin to wrap your arms around his neck. He didn’t hesitate to hug you back, pressing his lips against the top of your head. Despite his casual demeanor, he held you tightly as if he never wanted to let you go.

“Thank you…” you whispered against his chest.

“If he hurts you, I’ll know. I’ll go get you myself then, okay?”

You smiled and nodded, not even realizing that warmth has started rolling down your cheeks and staining his shirt. When he finally let you go, he gave your arm one last squeeze before looking over at Jeno.

“Take care of her.”

“You know I will.”

He slightly moved over to the side as Jeno joined both of you then. It was a quick moment, but for a few seconds, the three of you basked in that shared little space. You, Jeno, and him. You three who have always balanced each other out… You three who have always been there at the start.

“We’ll write. I promise,” was the only thing you found yourself capable of saying. He laughed softly and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

“And I promise to visit… Once all of this is over. Now go. You don’t want the others making a big fuss of you two eloping.”

A shade of red dusted your cheeks despite yourself at the word he used. Nodding, you stepped back as Jeno took your hand again.

“You’ll be safe until the grounds. Once you’ve passed the protective barrier of the school, you have to be more careful.”

Jeno nodded. Without another word, he gently tugged you to pass the boy, a look of thankfulness in his eyes.

“I’ll see you soon, Jaemin.”

“Yes, soon.”

*******

Mark couldn’t figure out the reason he bolted awake from the warmth of his own bed. His breaths came in short and fast as if he had been running, and there was a thin layer of cold sweat on his forehead. He couldn’t remember if he was dreaming or not before this, but when he trained his hearing to check if there was anything amiss, the stone dorms only echoed back silence to him. Shakily, he raised his hand to feel for his pulse, and within the next minute, tried his best to gather his bearings.

His breathing was still uneven when he felt it again, a pull that cannot be seen or heard, but can only be felt energetically deep in his core. Rosewood Academy has always been protected by glamour, an invisible shield that keeps it from catching too much attention from normal people and to protect its students from the outside world. The barrier is made of the same frequency as their arcanas, which means it is pulled from the vibrations of the masters. The stronger the control over your ability is, the most you contribute to it... which only means one thing at the moment.

The school is under attack.

The moment his feet touched the ground as he jumped out of bed, an explosion of noises came from all around him. There was shouting and what seemed like a loud bang from deep inside the castle, and when he tore his door open, he was met by a wild-looking Haechan and Renjun. Jisung and Chenle were on their heels, looking equally worried in their pajamas.

“Hyung!”

“What is happening?”

“Where is she?”

They all talked at the same time, but it was a new voice coming from the other end of the hallway that made them all turn their heads at the same time. Jaemin was running towards them, covered in what looked like dust.

“We’re under attack. Someone’s trying to break down the barrier from the outside!”

“Are you okay? And where is she? We have to–”

“She left. With Jeno. She’s out of the castle right now.”

Nobody spoke after that. Mark wondered for a moment if he heard it correctly, but the way Renjun’s face paled beside him told otherwise.

“What do you mean she and Jeno left?!” Haechan asked, his voice shaky. Jaemin trained a steady look at the other boy and said nothing else.

“We have to go after them,” Mark said, moving to pass the other boy before he even realized what he was doing. His stomach felt heavy, and his limbs felt numb while also wanting to grasp something. The same words screamed at his head again and again.

She’s in danger.

You have to get her.

She left.

I can’t lose her!

“Hyung!”

Renjun’s voice snapped him from his trance. Mark looked down to see Jaemin holding him back, while the other tried to block his way.

“We have to let them go. They’re better off away from the Academy.”

“What do you mean they are better off–”

“Right now, we’re the only ones who know they left. These people who are trying to get inside are after us masters. She is better off away from here with Jeno,” Haechan added, despite his expression looking equally torn. Mark stared the boy down, until finally gritting his teeth and taking a step back.

His action seemed to have made the others relax a little, especially Chenle and Jisung who looked like they are waiting for their older hyungs to give them directions. The sight of the two youngest put some sense in him and Mark looked around the rest of the group as he tried to focus on the more important things.

“We need to help the others. Jaemin, do you know where Johnny-hyung are?”

“Him and Jaehyun-hyung are guarding the north main entrance. Yuta-hyung and I think Mijeong are both stationed in the West and East. I was over there at the South exit but the headmaster came over and told me to look for you guys so we could evacuate.”

Mark frowned. There was a gnawing feeling that started creeping up on him at the mention of the man.

“The headmaster? Was he with Kun and Taeyong-hyung?”

“They weren’t when he came over.”

“He doesn’t know noona left with Jeno?”

Jaemin shook his head.

It only took a moment for him to make a decision.

“We should get to him now.”

The rest of the boys exchanged confused looks but started running after him as he jogged towards the South end of the academy. Mark didn’t know what got to him, but the pull towards the headmaster told him it was the right thing to do at the moment.

“Hyung, shouldn’t we be helping the others? I think the headmaster can handle things himself,” Chenle asked.

“He can. But the Rosewood shield is also held up by our Arcanas, meaning the strongest of the masters have the most influence on it. We’re already compromised without IL Matto and La Morte and he—”

“He doesn’t know it. If he gets hurt, there's a huge chance the rest of the shield will go down as well," Jisung finished his sentence, sounding breathless.

Mark didn’t say anything and continued rushing towards the exit. He could only hope their older brothers are holding up their own forts, but they are also a lot more experienced at them so the odds are a little bit more in their favor. As for you… Haechan is right. You would be better off as far away from the Academy as possible with Jeno. He only prays you two have made distance before the attacks started.

It took a few minutes before him and the rest finally retraced Jaemin’s post. His heart was beating hard against his chest, even as they turned the final corner which leads to the iron-clad gate of the academy. The rest of the boys slowed down as he did, and like a pack, started walking carefully down the hallway. Everything looked still… Dark…

Then, all of a sudden, there was light.

A huge gaping line, similar to a portal tear, rose up in front of them. It glowed on the edges, as if a ragged saw tried to reap a hole from thin air. Mark looked down on the floor in front of it, where a small rounded thing caught its light.

Lying on the spot where the headmaster should have been is a lone copper ring. Mark has seen it all the time, always in the finger of the very man who was the last and strongest protection of Rosewood.

Until now.

*******

It felt like being hit by lightning.

You stopped in your tracks as your insides felt as if they were suddenly set on fire. In front of you, Jeno also paused, looking at you over in worry for a bit before an odd expression also took over his face. As your eyes met, you both knew you felt the same pull—a feeling as if something binding you had been broken.

“Jeno,”

You weren’t able to finish what you were about to say as another flash of pain took over you. This time, it didn’t seem as if Jeno felt the same and he crouched to hold you before you could fully collapse. His face was pale in the slowly dawning light creeping up from above the tree line as he tried to support you on your feet.

“Are you okay?”

“Something has happened.”

His eyes trailed upward, back to the hilltop where the turrets of the Academy were still visible. You have made enough distance from the castle by now, but you could still see some of its looming towers from where you are.

“We have to keep going,” he said, his voice sounding like he was trying his best to calm himself. He helped you up to start pulling you again but you stopped, your eyes wide.

He looked back at you in confusion, but it didn’t last long as he saw the look on your face. His jaw tightened and the fingers holding your hand did the same.

“Don’t…”

“We can’t leave them, Jeno.”

“You can’t go back there. If something really did happen, you have to be as far away from that place!”

“My father! Something must have happened to him,”

He paused, confused at first. Tears were starting to sting behind your eyes, and not only because of the pain still gripping you.

“I felt it. I lost his connection. I can’t feel him anymore, Jeno.”

You knew it the moment the second stab of pain embedded itself on your chest. While all Arcana masters are interconnected, the Triad has a special kind of bond that only the last three can feel. Despite the distance, your father’s energy has always been with you as IL Giudizio to your IL Matto. Now, there is nothing of him that you could feel no matter how much you tried to reach for him. There is just… silence.

Jeno stared at you with a look that you cannot fathom before slowly letting go of your hand. When he moved to cup your face, you avoided his gaze as your tears finally started to fall.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. I can’t do it right now.”

He gently shushed you before pulling you in and kissing your forehead. He was steady in his hold on you as always, but you could feel the sense of defeat when he pressed you closer against him. He held you just like that for a few more moments before his voice anchored you again.

“Let’s go. It’s time to go back.”

*******

Note: Hi, guess who is back.

I know this fic has been dead for so long, but for some reason, no matter how many times I tried to quit it, I just couldn't bring myself to say that I'm done. I'd like to thank the last anon who sent me a message about it. So many people might have forgotten that Arcane still exists, but you gave me the push for now to finish at least this chapter! I am a little rusty at the moment but here you go. <3

Taglist: @effulgentfireflies, @kasperneo, @lostlovesoul11, @byunniebaekhyunnie, @smolpeyy, , @dearj43, @bettyschwallocksyee, @babyksworld, @yongboksfreckles, @user103843, @lovehowdream, @glitching-wren, @jhornytrash, @coconuttiez8d, @negincho, @stopeatread, @ellatizw, @huangberryyy, @wonyofanclub, @lotties-readings , @cabaretyun, @jjaegyeom, @marijmin

#nct dream fic #nct dream fanfic #jeno x reader #mark x reader #renjun x reader #haechan x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream au #nct dream fantasy au #nct dream supernatural au

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