#imagine waking up to not one but TWO sets of eyes staring at you in the dark . i would cry
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 2 months ago
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stsg are equally prone to watching you sleep i think
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queenpiranhadon · 3 months ago
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So, it's basically canon that Pro Heroes come to assist heroes in training at UA, right?
Just imagine the horror the new generation of heroes would face when they realize that their opponent for training that day is none other than the Number Two Pro Hero, Dynamight.
It's a hero team vs villain simulation - a joint practice between both hero course classes - Katsuki basically has free range to destroy the mock city UA had built and the students had to prevent him from doing so, which was really just a waste of money because of the Pro Hero's already destructive tendencies.
He already had to regulate himself for Pro Hero work, so this was really just waving the reg flag in front of the bull.
Needless to say, they all got their asses kicked, all 40 of them. Whether it was due to falling debris or evading explosions, all of them were forced to wave their white flags eventually.
The students weren't so much in shock, they were in awe, of how a Pro Hero could be so powerful and intimidating, and well...badass.
Their main takeaway? Katsuki Bakugou was an impenetrable force to be reckoned with.
Or... at least for a few minutes.
You can imagine the shock on their faces when the grim and serious expression on Dynamight's face melts instantly when he hears a voice speak up behind him.
"Katsuki, if you keep frowning all the time, you're going to get wrinkles."
He turns around, a rare smile stretching across his face as he stares at you, his wife, like you're the only person in the world at that moment, like you're the only one that matters.
"Tch. I don't get wrinkle lines, woman. Yer just seein' things."Despite his slight harsh words, they're softer, somehow, and the happy twinkle in his eyes is unmistakable.
The students gape at each other. The Dynamight, Katsuki Bakugou , in love? The same pro hero that was wreaking havoc and creating carnage in his wake was the same one now staring at his wife with a dopey grin and peppering kisses across your face.
"Katsuki!" You whine, but it looses its credibility as you start to laugh at his antics. "What's gotten into you, huh?" you ask, a little softer, so that only he could hear.
He looks at you, a soft look in his eyes as he kisses you gently and lovingly pulling away to admire your pretty face.
"M'just feeling sentimental I guess... We were probably their age when we started dating huh?" He says, referring to the students.
You snort, recalling the time when Katsuki first asked you out. "Aww...is my baby feeling sentimental? You were a dork back then."
Katsuki looks offended and his grumbles, nipping your jawline in annoyance."Oi. I was not a dork back then. If anything, Izuku was the dork."
You smile teasingly, kissing his nose, effectively shutting your explosive husband up.
"Is that so? Because I recall you had your All Might posters set up in chronological order of his costume eras."
Katsuki's ears turn red and his large hand wraps around the back of your hand, burying your face in his chest.
"Shaddup woman. Yer the one who fell for this dork in the first place."
You laugh, your voice muffled by his chest, but he can still hear you just fine. Looking up at him you smile.
"You may be a dork, but you're my dork."
The students watch is abosolute shock, mouth gaping open as they wonder how the hell you were able to render Katsuki Bakugou to the sappy man they saw in front of them.
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A/N: He's so silly I love him 🥰
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moechies · 7 months ago
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:¨ ·.· ¨: ୨୧ somno w toji
somno with toji never works :( he’s simply too big, and any part of him inside of you would wake you up in an instant, no matter how deep of a sleeper you are.
you proved this true the one time toji came home later than normal from a weighted job, scruffy and worn. yearning for some love from his dearest, cutest wife, jittery at the thought of your sweet lips against his own, and your soft skin pliant against his.
although worried, you had put yourself to sleep on the couch outside of your guy’s bedroom, a plated meal warmed and covered in a wrap for his hoped upon arrival. upon staggering upon the doorstep, fidgeting the key into the hole to get the lock open, he’s greeted by the soft, warm atmosphere of what hes able to call home.
his eyes set on your pliant body sprawled across the couch, body sunk into the soft pillows beneath you. your snoozy face on display due to you laid on your side, and a little knit blanket limps across your tummy. you’re wearing one of his over-sized shirts with a thin pair of panties, delicate lace and a strung bow that details the rim of it.
although originally admiring your soft body laying so peacefully, he can’t help the way his eyes divert to the sight of your chubby cunt, hugged so snugly by the crotch of your panties.
it’s adorable, honestly.
he makes his way towards you with ill intentions, dropping his belongings as he strides towards you.
soft snores reverberate through your body, paying no mind to the huge man mounting you from the side. he curses himself silently when all he can imagine is a sweet imagine of your is your fucked our face imprinted in his head, cute drooly mouth and crystalline tears painting your cute cheeks. his ears ring with your little mewls and cries of his name, little hand grappling at his much larger bicep trying your best to ask for a kiss.
he feels his cock ache and throb against your warm thigh as his mind surpasses all of these perfect moments, wasting no time before tugging at the silk embellishment of a belt, shimmying off his pants and discarding them on the ground. he hoists your soft leg onto his shoulder, shirt lifting along side it allowing him an open view to your perfect cunt, and your perfect slit. he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
although racked with guilt, head pulsing with anger at his poor self control, he can’t help but replay certain moments in his head; where you’d beg him to use you, conscious or not.
with honeydew tears rolling down your face, desperately holding the man impossibly close, mewling in his ear, ‘use me, use me, use me !” and all you ask in return is a sweet kiss on the lips. he chuckles at the thought, you, who others assume to be such a dear, gentle as a fawn, cute as a doe, the most innocent of all, compared to the version of you only toji knows. he’s utterly blessed.
his mind acts as a record, one that doesn’t stop playing, one which each and every film is of your sweet, sweet self. he’s not long into his fantasy before he finds himself mindlessly humping against your clad pussy, a thick layer of slick beginning to form from the simulation.
he lets out a mere laugh, tugging the crotch aside to be met with the prettiest sight of your worked up cunny. the sheen coat of arousal does nothing but highlight your pearly clit, and milky hole, all ready to take your favorite. your breath has labored, eyes squeezed tight, and cheeks flushed with a light rose, outcries for your dearest lover; ‘toji, toji, daddy— d . . daddy,’
his pride can’t help but swell at cute commentary unconsciously slipping from your lips; to know that even in you’re sleep, you were dreaming of him.
as his hand holds your panties aside, the other tugs his cock out from the confinements of his boxers, dragging the sloppy tip against your slit. he watches the two textures of arousal mix against eachother, his creamier pre blend into your clear slick. he can almost feel himself staring at the mess through heart-shaped lenses, obsessed with how your hole pulses around his mere cock head.
he feels your body twitch against his, leg shivering lightly, as you huff. much as if you had been awake, other than your usual whining and rushing, tugging at his much larger hips to hurry.
he finally lands above your hole, pressing lightly against the wet flesh, assuming he’s being diligent with his movements in order not to wake you. he watches as your soft cunt swallows his pudgy cock head as if it’s a right, fat lips hugging his cock head tight.
his technique doesn’t work too well.
his mere tip sits comfortably inside you when he hears you whimper loudly at his initial movement, eyelashes fluttering as you wake yourself with heavy pants. your leg attempts to retract, but he keeps a easy grip in order to keep you still. your cries grow louder, completely oblivious as to what’s happening around you in your woozy state. you flinch at the scarred hand that lays against the soft skin of your face,
“it’s jus’ me, honey. don’t fret.” toji comforts, smiling at the way your head turns to face his, brows furrowing in confusion.
“o . . owie—“ you react regarding his cock head protruding your cunny from below, “t-toji,” your hand grips at his fingers weakly, slowly adjusting to the ‘foreign’ feeling of his cock.
“mhm.. that’s right, darling girl. y’slept well?” you shake your head quickly, pouting up at the man above you. he tilts his head to the side, anticipating your explanation.
“ ‘s ‘cause you w-weren’t home. m-missed y’so much, toji.” you sniffle, tugging his arm in order to pull him closer.
“oh, poor baby.” he replies solemnly, reaching down to press a loving kiss onto your forehead. you feel him nudge himself deeper, squeaking at the unprepped stretch.
“heh.. missed you so much too, doll. y’know that?” he cups the side of your face, shallow and short thrusts of his cock. more than enough to get him off perfectly. you nod your head rapidly with shut eyes, fists clenched into little balls against your chest at the overwhelming simulation.
“y’r doin’ s’good. ‘s almost over doll, t-then i’ll put ya to sleep.”
“w-wait hnn— m gonna cum !”
he snickers at your meek whines, teasing you slightly,
“already? this pussy’s so sensitive, sweet doll.”
he knows it’s the mixture of you barely conscious, added onto the intense simulation of his cock pounding against your gummy walls over and over, but he loves the little helpless glare you shoot him, silently begging him to let you cum.
“please, please—“
“shh darlin,’ no need to beg. cum, cum f’me, doll.”
and with a couple deep strokes, his cock overwhelmed by the way your cunt pulses and squeezes around him, he cums a potent load into the depths of your womb.
he jets a milky and viscous stream of thick cum into you, seemingly never ending as he slowly rides out his high by lazily humping into your spent cunt.
his eyes can’t help but pace back and forth from your lewd expressions to the creamy mess below, watching his load spread across your chubby folds and dirty the inside of your thighs.
sweet whispers of ‘love you, love you,’ fall from the lips of the man, pressing wet kisses all over your face. you nuzzle against his face, kissing down his jaw, entertaining his needy behavior that you surely wouldn’t see for a while.
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soaps-mohawk · 10 months ago
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 11: It's Coming
Summary: Things have begun to shift in your developing relationship with your pack. Unfortunately, nature has the worst timing in the world. 
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Suggestive content, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, medical stuff, plenty of fluff.
A/N: I wrote like 90% of this chapter on my phone so please forgive any weird typos. I'm super excited for this one and this whole part really. Lots of good stuff coming up!!
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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At first you’re not quite sure what pulled you from sleep. You’re warm and more comfortable than you have been in a long time, despite the dull throbbing between your thighs. The pillow against your back shifts, a chill settling in as some of the warmth disappears. 
You blink your eyes open, squinting against the harsh blue light of a phone screen. Price lets out a quiet groan, swiping at something before settling his phone back on the nightstand in front of you. His arms wrap back around your middle, his face pressing into the back of your neck as he settles against you again. 
It was his phone vibrating that had woken you, pulling you from the gentle arms of sleep. It’s still dark out, far too early to be up and getting phone calls, especially on a Sunday morning. You wonder how often John actually gets to sleep, between his job and everything he does when he’s not away. You’re understanding the couch in his office more and more now. 
“Go back to sleep.” He murmurs, a quiet rumbling vibrating against your back as he purrs.
You don’t need to be told twice, snuggling down under the covers again, letting your eyes close. 
You wake a while later alone. It’s daylight finally, the sunlight coming through the window lighting the room. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling Price’s scent. It still smells a bit like arousal and sex in the room, both of your scents heavy in the air. They blend together surprisingly well, Price’s musky woody scent mixing with the sweetness of your own scent. It makes an intoxicating aroma of alpha and omega. 
Price comes out of the bathroom, slipping back under the covers. You curl up against his side, laying your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you. 
“Morning.” He murmurs, voice heavy with sleep still. 
You hum in response, resting your head over his heart. 
“How do you feel?” He asks, his fingers trailing your bare back. 
“A bit sore.” You say, acknowledging the throbbing between your legs. “Not as bad as I thought I might.” 
Price huffs out a laugh. “It shouldn’t hurt, not if you know what you’re doing.” 
You hum again, the knowledge that he’s very experienced coming to the forefront of your mind. Even if it has been two years, you can imagine him when he was younger, the kind of experiences he must have had. Omegas and barrack bunnies and all sorts of women probably fawned over him. 
“You’re thinking too much.” He says quietly, eyes closed as he lays there with you. 
You’re starting to think he might be able to read your mind. 
“Can I ask you something? Something...personal?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him. 
He cracks an eye open to stare down at you. “Don’t think you can get much more personal than we already are.” His lips twitch up in a smile. “‘Course, you can ask me anything.” 
“When was the last time you helped an omega through a heat?” You ask, listening to the steady thump of his heart under your ear. 
“Years ago. Well over a decade ago.” He says, voice still thick and raspy with sleep. He clears his throat, a hand settling on your waist. “Back when I was still a Sergeant. I had the idea back then of settling down, finding an omega and having my own pack. Had a few on and off relationships. Then I started getting sent off on more and more dangerous missions. I realized my skill set and my purpose, and gave up the idea of having an omega. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting them through that, if something happened to me. I’ve seen what losing an alpha does to an omega firsthand too many times.” 
A frown tugs at your brows as you lay there against his chest. You know the risk of them dying is high. The CIA had spent ample time warning you of that risk, telling you about how dangerous their lives are and how every assignment, every deployment, could be their last. They could be gone for weeks at a time, months at a time, and they could go and not come back. They know that every time they leave for an assignment it could be their last, and now you’ll be stuck behind knowing they might not be coming back. 
You’ve heard about omegas that have lost their alphas, how damaging it can be. It’s not something you’re taught at the institute. That’s not something you’re supposed to think about, something you shouldn’t have to think about. 
“What’s eating you?” Price asks softly, his finger stroking the pinched skin between your brows. 
You shift against his side, leaning more on his chest as you look up at him. “What if you don’t come back?” 
His smile is a bit grim as he stares up at you, his fingers trailing across your face. “I won’t lie and say that’s not a risk. There’s always a chance.” His fingers trail down your arm to rest on your hand where it’s pressed flat against his chest. “We’re here for a reason. We are the best at what we do.” 
He pauses as your hand moves, your gaze lowering from his as you trace one of the scars on his clavicle. You can only imagine what caused it. A knife? Shrapnel? Where was he and what was he doing when he got it? You might never be able to know all the details. So many secrets, so much you can’t know. 
John wraps his arms around you, easing you off his chest as he rolls you onto your back. You stare up at him as he hovers over you, his hand brushing stray hairs from your face. “Don’t worry too much.” He says, his finger trailing the line of your nose. “We always try our best to make it home. Now we just have an even greater reason to.” 
Your hand cups his cheek as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You hum against his mouth, pressing your body closer against his. You can’t help but smile against his lips as his cock hardens against your thigh. 
“Again?” You murmur against his lips, making him chuckle.
“Can’t blame me when there’s a beautiful omega naked in my bed.” 
Your face burns as he leans back down to kiss you, his hips moving against your thigh. Warmth spreads through your whole body from his scent thickening in the air, his arousal prevalent as he twitches against your leg. 
“John.” You moan softly, hands grasping at his back. 
You both pause as a door shuts in the hallway, the reminder that the others are just a thin wall away coming back to you. The moment is over as your stomach growls, also reminding you that you’ll need to eat eventually. 
John chuckles quietly, leaning up to press a kiss against your forehead. “Come on, let’s get the day started and get some food into you.” 
You frown a bit as he pulls away, cock still hard and angry looking as he stands from the bed. “John?” You call out, scrambling off the bed after him. “You’re just gonna...” 
“Give it a minute and I’ll be fine.” He says, moving to his closet. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 
Your frown only deepens and you step closer to him, catching him as he turns around. You stare up at him through your lashes, wrapping your hand around his cock. He pauses, letting out a little groan as you squeeze him gently. 
“Let me help you.” You say, dragging your hand along his length. 
His eyes darken as he stares down at you, the pants in his hand dropping to the floor. 
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Your face is still a bit flushed as you make your way to the mess. You’re hand in hand with John, dressed comfortably in one of his shirts and a pair of leggings. You can’t help but feel a bit bashful, as if they’re all going to know what you did, as if every soldier in the mess knows you and Price slept together last night. 
They’ve probably been thinking that since you arrived. 
Price leads you through the line, making your tray for you. You nearly beam with pride at him taking care of you, your omega preening with happiness as he carries your tray and his to the table. You take the spot next to Gaz as usual, still practically beaming. 
“Have a good night, love?” Gaz asks, smirking a bit at your pleased state. 
“Yeah.” You say, your face getting warm again at their stares. 
“Practically glowing, kitten.” Johnny says, winking at you from across the table. 
Your face flushes hotter and you quickly bury yourself in your porridge to avoid exploding at the breakfast table. 
“Sounded like ye had a great time.” Johnny continues. 
Christ, they probably heard the whole thing. You halfway want to sink down beneath the table to hide from their knowing stares. You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, not really. They’re your pack, and eventually you’ll be in the same position with them too. 
“Didnae know ye had it in ye, kitten.” Johnny continues. “We certainly enjoyed the show.”
You do start to sink down in your seat a bit, surprised steam isn’t rising off your skin from how warm you feel. Gaz’s hand on your leg stops you, his fingers squeezing your thigh gently. 
“Don’t pay too much attention to him, love.” Gaz gives you a reassuring smile. “He’s just jealous he didn’t get to go first.” 
“Am not.” Johnny whines, practically pouting. 
You can’t help but smile a bit at his antics. You know from how much he bragged about getting to be your first kiss that he probably was rather put out that John got to be your first. It would have been that way regardless, but you know you asking John before your heat changed things a bit. It would have always been John, though. 
It would have always been your alpha first. 
Gaz’s hand doesn't move from your thigh, holding its place there as you all eat, Johnny still pouting a bit. You know they’ll want to pursue that sort of relationship with you after your heat, but now that John’s removed the barrier of the first time as well, you can only expect them to up the teasing tenfold. A shiver runs up your spine at the thought of Gaz sliding his hand slightly higher, fingers slipping between your legs. 
You’re certain there has to be steam coming off of you now. 
Your thighs squeeze together, trapping Gaz's fingers between them as you continue to try and act normally. Gaz turns his head just slightly, side eyeing you as you continue to try and eat your breakfast as normally as possible. Gaz's grip on your thigh tightens, fingers digging into your skin. You fight the noise threatening to come up as he holds his hand there, continuing to eat his breakfast as if nothing is happening. 
You hold Gaz's hand as he walks you back towards the barracks, leaning against his side. His grip around your fingers is tight, not even the rain dampening the heaviness of his scent. It's deeper than usual, the musk of arousal tinging the edges. 
Your back meets your door as soon as you're back in the barracks, Gaz pinning you against the wood. Your own breathing is heavy as you stare up at him, his eyes dark as he meets your gaze. 
“Fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?” He groans, leaning down to kiss you. It's far more passionate than you've ever kissed him before, his hands sliding down your sides to grip your waist. “Making all those sweet noises last night.” He breathes against your lips. “Haven't seen Price that relaxed in a long time.” 
Your face warms at his words, your hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt. He presses harder against you, pinning you against the door as his tongue prods at your lips. He tastes like the tea he drank with breakfast, herby and earthy. 
“Has us all worked up last night.” He groans against your lips. “Hearing you, knowing our alpha was treating you nice.”
He presses his forehead against yours, staring down at you. You meet his gaze, shivering under the intensity in his deep brown eyes. 
“Johnny bout cried he was so worked up.” Gaz's lips twitch in a smile. “Simon left for the gym bout halfway through, had to work out his tension.”
Your brows raise at the news about what Ghost had been up to last night. You figured he might join Johnny in his room, or perhaps head somewhere so he didn't have to hear you. Not that he would leave because he was being affected by you. 
“Johnny was being such a whiny little bastard. Had no choice but to take pity on him.” Gaz nips at your jawline playfully. “I fear he's going to be unbearable until he gets his chance.” 
“Well, he'll just have to wait his turn.” You say. 
Gaz laughs, kissing you again before he takes half a step back, leaning his arm on the door above you. “Any plans today?”
You shrug, still leaning against your door. “Might read, or nap. Maybe both.” You sink your teeth into your lip, reaching back to put your hand on the door handle. “You wanna come in?” 
Gaz's grin widens into a smile, his eyes practically sparkling. “Sure.”
You open the door, stepping into your room. It's a bit of a mess from you preparing for your date last night. You toss the clothes from your bed onto the floor haphazardly before pushing Gaz onto the mattress. He kicks off his shoes before making himself comfortable. You toe off your slippers, grabbing your book before joining him on the bed. He pulls you against his side, pulling his phone out of his pocket as you settle against his chest. A quiet content purr begins rumbling in his chest, easing the tension in your body as you relax against him. 
You stay like that, reading while cuddling Gaz, for quite a while. Your door is wide open still, the others coming and going as they do on the weekends. Gaz keeps your back to his chest, arm wrapped around his middle as he scrolls on his phone while you read. 
Slowly his head starts to droop until it's resting against the top of yours. You can feel the content sleepiness settling into your bones as well, the words on the pages starting to swim a bit. You mark your place, moving just enough to set your book on your nightstand before you curl up against him, letting his even breaths lull you to sleep. 
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You jolt awake suddenly as Gaz's arms tighten around you, keeping you from flying off the bed. You blink open your bleary eyes, squinting at Johnny's grinning face inches from yours. His body is draped over both yours and Gaz's, a solid weight against you both. 
“C'mon ye lazies. Gotta eat lunch eventually.” He says, sounding far too chipper for a Sunday afternoon. 
“Fuck off mate.” Gaz says, shoving at Johnny's shoulder. “Was comfy.”
“Yer hogging the omega!” Johnny says, poking Gaz's side. He pushes himself up, scooping you into his arms and lifting you. “Some of us would like tae spend time with ‘er too.” 
You yelp at being lifted suddenly, wrapping your arms around Johnny's neck to hold on for dear life. 
“Well, maybe you just need to be a little bit faster.” Gaz says, standing from the bed. 
“I'm plenty fast.” Johnny almost whines. “Close to beating your time on the course.”
Gaz smirks. “I'll believe it when I see it.” 
You look back and forth between them as Gaz steps closer to Johnny, caging you between them. 
“And ye will see it.” Johnny says.
“Cheeky.” Gaz murmurs, closing the distance between them. 
You stare wide eyed as they kiss just inches in front of your face. It's all tongues and teeth, Soap's chest rumbling against your side as he purrs. A quiet whimper leaves your lips as you watch them, your body starting to get warm again. 
They break apart, both turning to look at you. Gaz's lips turn up in a smirk, Johnny's eyes sparkling. 
“Look at you, kitten.” Johnny smirks. “Ye like watching us?” 
You make another quiet noise, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. Johnny slowly lowers you until you're standing between them, Gaz not moving an inch as they trap you in a beta sandwich. Their bodies are warm and solid as you stand there, back to Johnny's chest. You can feel the bulge in his jeans pushing against your ass, Gaz's body a solid weight against your front. 
You can imagine it, naked between them, skin against skin with hands everywhere. A quiet purr begins in your chest, eyes dilating as you stare up at Gaz. He smirks down at you, leaning down towards you. He skirts to the side at the last minute though, kissing Johnny behind you. 
You can't see them this time but lord can you hear it. Johnny is still purring, the sound vibrating against your back. Gaz let's out a quiet sound, his hand dropping to squeeze your waist. 
Johnny pats your side before pulling away. “Should get ye some lunch.”
Your head is still spinning as Gaz hums his approval, stepping away as well. You stand there blinking for a moment at the sudden loss of contact, the sudden shift in energy. 
“C'mon, get yer shoes on, sunshine.” Johnny says. 
You move half in a daze still towards your bed, your body tingling a bit still from the many thoughts that had been racing through your mind. 
Something in the back of your mind begins to itch as you stare down at your bed. Your brows pinch in a frown as you stare down at the mess of blankets and pillows. 
It's not right. 
Your fingertips twitch as you stare at the mess in your nest, your mind taking over as you begin to rearrange the blankets and pillows. You forget you're not alone in the room as you fuss with the blankets until the itching begins to lessen a bit. You fiddle with the pillows, moving them around over and over again until you're happy with how they're organized, the quiet humming in the back of your mind fading away to nothing. 
You sink down on the edge of the bed, letting out a long breath. You feel tired and almost winded after your effort to make sure your nest is just right. 
Nest. 
You're nesting. 
You blink up at Johnny and Gaz, suddenly aware of their presence in your space again. Johnny is staring at you wide eyed, mouth slightly parted in wonder. Gaz has a sparkle in his eye as he grins at you. 
You've just built a nest. 
“Feel better, love?” Gaz asks, still almost beaming from witnessing you make your nest. 
You nod, a sudden weight lifting from your shoulders. You've nested. You're nesting. Everything is going to be okay. 
“C'mon.” Johnny says, slipping your slippers back onto your feet. “Let's get lunch in ye.”
You let him help you up, holding both their hands as you make your way from the barracks, a small, relieved smile on your face.
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You wake up nauseous. 
There’s a clawing feeling in your stomach and you’re not sure why. 
It’s early, too early to be up. The sky outside is still dark, and the barracks are quiet. You get up, heading for the bathroom, the gnawing feeling still plaguing your stomach. Cold water on your face doesn't help the light-headedness or the dizziness you’re beginning to feel. 
You can’t possibly be sick. You haven’t been around anyone that’s sick. You know heat sickness isn’t a threat right now. There’s no warnings out about possible exposures. It couldn’t be food poisoning. You eat the same things they do. 
The gnawing intensifies, your stomach rumbling a bit. 
Realization dawns on you suddenly. 
You’re hungry. 
You’re very hungry. 
You check the time on your phone. Three a.m. Still too early for any of the boys to be up, and still a couple hours from when the mess would start serving breakfast. You head for the rec room, hoping there’s at least something in there to tide you over until breakfast. 
You dig through the cabinets, plenty of tea and a couple packets of instant coffee you know belong to Johnny. You dig out a couple protein bars, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge before taking a seat on the couch. 
The protein bars aren’t great. They don’t taste good, but you’re so hungry you don’t care. You down them quickly and the entire bottle of water. For a moment you feel relief, the gnawing in your stomach easing. You head back to bed, slipping back into your room quietly. 
You toss and turn, unable to go back to sleep as the gnawing begins in your stomach once more. You let out a quiet sound, muffled by your pillow as you lay there, knowing you still have a long time until they’ll come and get you for breakfast. 
The thought makes you almost want to cry. 
You’re waiting as soon as they knock, narrowly avoiding Johnny’s hand as you open the door mid-knock. The bright look in his eyes fades as he stares at you. You know you look miserable, maybe a little sick, even. You feel worse, your stomach twisting and gnawing. Those protein bars four hours ago hadn’t been nearly enough. 
“Ye alright, kitten?” He asks, a frown marring his face. 
“Hungry.” You all but whine, slipping out the door, closing it behind you. 
“Ye hungry, kitten? Ye could have said somethin’ sooner. Coulda brought ye somethin’.” Johnny says, following you down the hall. 
You’re determined to get real food and you’re not about to let anything get in your way. You feel ravenous, despite the fact you’d had a good dinner the night before. 
Maybe it hadn’t been enough. 
You make your own tray this time, loading on more than you usually do. You take your normal spot between Price and Gaz, all four of them eyeing your tray as you happily dig in. 
“Hungry, love?” Price asks, watching you spoon huge mouthfuls of porridge into your mouth. 
You nod, chewing quickly before spooning more in. It tastes delicious, something you never thought you would say about British food. 
They all watch in awe as you clear your tray, eating every last crumb, having to refrain from licking it clean. Finally, for the first time since you went to bed last night, you feel full and satisfied. 
“Damn. Putting us to shame.” Gaz says, staring at your empty, nearly clean tray. 
You grow bashful under their stares, realizing you not only out ate them, you also finished first. “I was hungry.” You say, fiddling with your fork. 
“No kidding.” Ghost huffs out, all of them finishing up their trays. 
You’re in a far better mood leaving the mess than you were entering it, the sweet relief of being full after hours of gnawing hunger making you feel almost giddy. Ghost walks you back to the barracks, walking slow enough you can easily keep up with him. So slow, your arm brushes his as you walk next to him. 
“Sorry.” You say, moving a step away from him. You’re so used to standing directly next to the others, you’ve forgotten Ghost prefers his personal space. 
He stares down at you for a moment but doesn’t say anything, holding the door to the barracks open for you. He stands just inside the door, watching you make your way down the hallway to your room. He waits for the click of the lock before he turns, leaving you alone in the barracks again. 
You settle into your usual routine of laying in your nest and reading, the giddiness starting to wear off as the time passes. You make it until ten a.m. when the gnawing hunger begins to return. You let out an annoyed whine, dropping your book to the floor as you roll onto your stomach. 
You want to cry and scream at the same time, watching the clock tick by on your phone. You’re tired of being so hungry, and what’s worse, you don’t even know why. You’re just ravenous and you can’t think of a reason. 
Lunch can’t come soon enough, and you find yourself struggling through the afternoon just as much. It’s almost like your body is on a timer and every two hours you’re suddenly starving, as if you haven’t eaten all day. You eat just as much as you did at breakfast, scarfing down food like you’re a starving animal. 
You certainly feel like one. 
You head to the rec room after dinner, Ghost and Johnny joining you. Johnny takes the seat next to you on the couch, draping his arm behind you as Ghost takes his usual spot in the chair. 
You curl up against Johnny’s side, watching whatever he decides to put on TV half-heartedly. You’re waiting for the inevitable, the gnawing hunger to creep up on you again. 
It does, roughly two hours into your time in the rec room. 
You shift against Johnny, pressing against his side more as you try to ignore the hunger burning through you. His arm wraps around your shoulders, holding you against him. You breathe in his scent, letting the citrusy scent of him wash over you. 
It only serves to make you more hungry. 
You let out a quiet whine, trying to get closer to him. Tears prick at your eyes as you know there’s no relief coming. There’s no more meals until tomorrow. You’ll have to go all night before you can eat again, before you can relieve the hunger. You’re not sure you’ll make it that long. You might perish in the middle of the night, or become violently ill. Perhaps both. 
You let out another quiet whine, standing from the couch. You can’t take it anymore, both Johnny and Ghost watching you as you head for the cabinets, kneeling on the floor and rummaging through everything, desperate to find another protein bar or anything. 
“What are you doing?” Ghost asks, staring at you as you’re halfway in the cabinet, checking every last corner. 
“Hungry!” You snap, half considering eating one of the tea bags just for something. 
You’ve just closed the cabinet door in irritation when an arm wraps around your waist, lifting you from the floor. You let out a yelp, Ghost carrying you easily back to the couch. 
“Stay.” He says after dropping you back next to Johnny. “I’ll be back.” 
Johnny wraps his arms around you as you pout, nearly in tears from how frustrated you are. You’re just so hungry. 
“Easy, kitten.” Johnny says, pulling you back against his chest. 
You nuzzle into him, curling up into a ball against his side. He starts purring quietly, trying to soothe you while you wait for Ghost to return. You can’t pay attention to the TV, Johnny trying to change the channel every time a food related commercial comes on. 
You’re nearly shaking when Ghost returns, arms full of snacks. Your eyes widen as he dumps them on the coffee table, pushing yourself up from Johnny’s chest. 
“Where did you get these?” You ask, dropping to your knees on the floor in front of the coffee table. 
“Vending machine in the mess.” Ghost answers, sitting back down in his chair. 
You stare at him teary eyed, sniffling a little. “Thank you.” 
He grunts in response, turning his gaze back to the TV as you reach for a bag of chips.
You can barely even taste it as you kneel there on the floor, basking in the first taste of sweet relief from a bag of salt and vinegar chips. You grab them by the handful, burning through the small, snack sized bag quickly. 
You’ve barely finished chewing when you’re reaching for a candybar, a sudden realization striking you as your brain begins to regain the ability to think now that it knows relief is coming. You stare at the purple Cadbury on the front of the packaging, your fingers trembling as you hold the candybar. 
You take a deep breath, quickly opening the wrapper before taking a bit, sitting back on your heels as you chew. “Well, shit.” 
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“I know, I hate the exam rooms too.” Dr. Keller says, flipping through her clipboard. “Too clinical and sterile looking.” She lifts your hand, removing the pulse monitor from your finger. “A little higher than normal.” She says, writing something down on the clipboard. 
She takes your blood pressure and temperature, writing both down on the clipboard. 
“Temperature is still normal.” She says. “How have you been feeling?” 
“Hungry.” You say, picking at the thin fabric of the hospital gown you’ve been forced into. “Ravenously hungry and clingy.” You continue. “A bit more emotional than normal too.” 
Dr. Keller nods, writing all of it down. “Normal things for your pre-heat, according to your file. Anything out of the ordinary? Aches and pains? Any nausea or vomiting, not related to hunger?” 
You shake your head. “No. Kinda sleepy all the time too, but the hunger makes it hard to sleep.” 
Dr. Keller nods. “That’s normal. Your body is preparing for a few days of very little caloric intake and little rest. I’d say you’re exhibiting all the signs of pre-heat. You’re right on time, as expected.” She gives you a little smile. “Judging by your vitals you still have a few days before the full heat symptoms begin. Any questions?” 
“What do institutes do for heats?” John asks where he’s sitting to the side of the exam table. 
“It depends on the institute.” Dr. Keller says, looking at you. 
“FIOT rotated between sedation and isolation.” You say, not really wanting to think back on the heats you had gone through at the institute. “Sedation for the full heat, or shutting us in private rooms for a week to ride out the symptoms alone to avoid triggering heats in the other omegas.” 
“Neither are great, but in that sort of environment there’s not a lot that can be done. Sedation is the better of the two, though it can still be disorienting. Isolation is painful and risky, especially if proper care isn’t given.” Dr. Keller says. 
“Is sedation an option for the future?” Price asks. 
You turn to look at him, before looking back at Dr. Keller. 
“It’s something we can explore. I know it can’t be expected of you to be here for every heat. We can start exploring some alternatives after this heat is over and I have a better idea of what they’re going to look like.” Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile. “Now, I’d like to do a little exam just to give me a baseline for after your heat when I check for any abnormalities or injuries.” 
She directs you to lay down on the exam table and put your feet in the stirrups. You suddenly feel nervous, her words doing little to calm you. John appears in your peripheral, slipping his hand into yours. 
“Is that a risk?” You ask as Dr. Keller pulls a clean pair of gloves on. 
“Only a small one.” She says, standing at the end of the table. “I know you’ve probably heard all the horror stories, but those are only really concerns with inexperienced alphas who have never helped an omega through a heat before, especially those who had limited exposure to omegas in general.” She smiles at you. “You’re in good hands, my dear.” 
She does her exam, letting you sit up once she’s finished. John helps you up, still holding your hand. Dr. Keller’s words do ease your concerns just a bit, but you can’t help the images flashing through your mind, the horror stories of mutilations and even deaths. You trust Price to take care of you, but at the same time, you won’t know until it’s over. 
“Everything looks good.” She says. “The best thing you can do right now is try to satiate the pre-heat symptoms and take this time to make sure everything is ready and in place for when the full heat begins. Don’t worry too much.” She looks pointedly at you. “I’ll be on call and ready should something happen.” Her gaze turns to John. “Your beta knows what to look out for, right?” 
John nods. “Kyle has been doing a lot of research. He knows what to do.” 
“Good.” Dr. Keller says, looking back at you. “Why don’t you get dressed, then we can go back to my office where it’s more comfortable and talk some more.” 
Dr. Keller leaves you alone in the room, Price helping you change back into your normal clothes, leaving the room with you. You turn to look up at him, Dr. Keller waiting for you near her office door. 
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Price says, leaning down towards you. 
“Yeah.” You say, standing up on your toes to kiss him. 
You try to ignore the look on Dr. Keller’s face as you walk past her and into her office, your face warming a bit in response. You take your normal seat, trying to get comfortable despite your bashfulness. 
“You and Captain Price seem a lot closer.” Dr. Keller says as she sits across from you on the couch. 
You nod. “Yeah. We, uh, we have gotten closer.” You chew on your lip. “We slept together...on Saturday night. Had a date, he cooked dinner. Then we...did it.” 
Dr. Keller’s brows raise at your words, her face surprised. “Oh? Is that so? Is that something you wanted?” 
You nod. “I asked him if he’d do it. I wanted my first time to be when I could remember it...before I would feel like it was something that had to be done.” 
Dr. Keller hums, writing something down. “Did you have fun?” 
Your face warms at her words, and you halfway wish the chair would swallow you whole. You nod, hiding your fingers beneath your sleeves again. “Yeah. I uh, started nesting too.” 
Dr. Keller’s face breaks out into a huge smile. “That’s great! That’s fantastic news! Perfect timing too.” 
You nod. “Yeah. Started on Sunday. Been feeling it since.” 
“Good. That gives us one less thing to worry about.” She sets her notebook aside, crossing her legs as she stares at you. “How do you feel about your heat coming so soon?” 
“Nervous.” You answer honestly. 
“It can be a bit daunting, I’d imagine, your first heat with an alpha. Captain Price knows what he’s doing, though. He and Sergeant Garrick will take good care of you.” 
“I know.” You say, fiddling with your sleeves. “It’s still scary. A lot of things can happen and...what if one of them does?” 
“It’s not very likely.” Dr. Keller reassures you. “Captain Price knows what he’s doing. He’s experienced with omegas and heats and the likelihood of him losing control is small, even after so long without any contact with an omega. It sounds like Sergeant Garrick has educated himself on things to look for, and what to do to help. I’ll be ready and on call the entire time as well. I’ll make regular check-ins with Sergeant Garrick too, to make sure everything is going smoothly. You’re not alone in this. We’ll all make sure you’re well taken care of. I know it’s a lot to ask you to trust people that are still somewhat strangers, but we all have your best interests in mind here.” 
“I know.” You say quietly. “It’s hard, not knowing much of anything. They tell you everything you should expect at the institute over and over again, then you get in it and everything is different. Nothing is like it should be. Nothing like they said. I don’t know what I’m doing.” 
“I know. You were prepared for one life and got an entirely different one. Lucky for you, though, you’re surrounded by very understanding people who are more than happy to help you. I know this is so far from ideal for you, but I think you’re doing a fantastic job with what you were handed.” 
You stare at your hands, thinking over her words. John’s called you a good omega before. He’s called you that a few times. He thinks you’re doing a good job, despite the fact you feel like none of your skills are useful here. Despite the fact you feel like you haven’t been trying. 
You think over everything they’ve done for you, how hard they’ve tried to help make you as comfortable as possible. She’s right. They’re all so understanding and you know they like you. You can see it in their reactions to you, you can smell it on them. You know Gaz won’t let anything happen to you, even if something goes wrong. 
They have yet to prove themselves untrustworthy, for the most part. 
Maybe you really don’t have anything to worry about. 
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“Come on.” Ghost says, standing in your doorway. You almost don't recognize him in a beanie and surgical mask instead of his usual balaclava. “Get shoes on, and let’s go.” 
“Go where?” You ask, sitting up on your bed. 
“Shopping.” He says, before turning on his heel. 
You frown, but do as he says, slipping on comfortable shoes and grabbing your phone. You head down the hall towards the door, a familiar car parked outside. Price and Ghost are waiting next to the car, both dressed in civilian clothes. You approach them hesitantly, suddenly feeling intimidated in the presence of the two alphas. You know you have nothing to worry about, but this is the first time you'll be alone with both of them. 
Ghost steps up to you, a bottle in his hand. You barely have time to hold your breath before he sprays you down with scent blocker, the harsh chemicals burning your nose as they settle on your skin and cut off your scent. It's necessary, even with two alphas around you. 
“Ready?” John asks, letting his eyes scan over your form for a second. He could probably pick up on your tension and uneasy energy from a mile away. 
“Can...Can I ask why?” You ask as John opens the back door for you. 
“Well, we can't have you starving to death on us, can we?” John smiles. “And we need to get a few things for your heat.”
“Oh.” You say, blinking up at him. 
“Hop in. Hopefully we can get the shopping done before dinner.” John says. 
Before you get hungry again. 
You climb in the backseat, John closing the door before getting in the driver's side. Ghost is already in the passenger seat, buckled in and ready. 
You sit and watch the landscape pass by, the car quiet except for the radio. The contrast between the two betas and the two alphas is almost as distinct as night and day. Johnny and Gaz had talked almost nonstop the entire drive to and back from town. Ghost and Price seem content in their silence, Ghost watching the landscape pass just like you. 
It speaks volumes of their trust and ease with each other. 
The farmlands turn to city and you find yourself back at Asda again. You hold John's hand as you walk, Ghost taking your other side, sandwiching you between them. People stare as you pass, their eyes on Ghost, but he doesn't even seem to notice. 
You stick close to John as you walk through the store, picking up items you'll need for your heat, as well as some other things. Ghost follows like a shadow, people giving you a wide berth when they spot him. You're almost grateful for it. You swear some of them can tell you're about to start your heat, their eyes burning into you as they pass. 
You can feel the beginnings of hunger starting to creep in as you walk down the bed liner aisle. You know if you weren't starting to get hungry, you would have been close to combusting from the knowledge of why this aisle was necessary. 
You let out a sigh, leaning your head against John's arm as he crosses the bed liner off the list. 
“What?” He asks, amusement in his voice. 
“You know what I miss?” You say, wrapping your arms around one of his. “Good authentic Mexican food.” 
The corner of John's lips lift in a smile. “Yeah? You getting hungry again?” 
You nod, a subtle whine to your tone. “Yeah.”
John turns to look at Ghost, the two alphas having a seconds long silent conversation before Ghost heads off, disappearing from the aisle. 
“Where's he going?” You ask. 
“Getting a head start on the other supplies for your heat.” John says. “Just a couple more things, then your snacks and we'll be done and we'll get some dinner.” 
You stop as you turn the corner around the end of the aisle, your eyes spotting a giant teddy bear. It looks soft and squishy, your pre-heat addled brain already picturing the perfect spot for it in your nest. 
“You want it?” John asks, looking between you and the bear. 
You snap back into reality for a moment, glancing up at the price. You nearly die on the spot, shaking your head. “I-I don't...”
John turns you to face him, speaking firmly. “Do you want it?”
You stare up into his eyes, nodding slowly. 
His gaze softens just a bit, a smile tugging at his lips. “Then grab it.” 
You're moving before you can even have a second thought, wrapping your arms around it and lifting it off the shelf. It's just as soft as you thought it would be, nearly as big as you are too. You can imagine cuddling it in your nest, napping contently, surrounded in soft plushness. 
“C'mon pup.” John says, patting your back gently. You're purring, you realize suddenly, the sound leaving you entirely unconsciously. “Let's get you some snacks then we'll get dinner.”
You carry the bear, following John to the grocery section of the store. He takes you to the snack aisle and you pass the bear off to him, grabbing anything and everything that looks good, loading up the cart. You grab a few things from the American section as well, snacks you didn't think you'd miss, but right now they sound like manna straight from heaven. 
“Simon's done with his part.” John says, glancing at his phone. “We'll meet back at the car.” 
You take the bear back once you're done filling the cart with snacks, heading towards the checkout. You're hesitant to let the bear go long enough to be scanned before you're holding it again, purring quietly and contently. 
John keeps his arm around you as you walk through the parking lot towards the car. There's already bags in the trunk from Ghost, the alpha already in the passenger seat. They must have both been carrying keys to the car. Safety precautions. Things most people wouldn't even think about. 
“Thank you.” You say as John fills the trunk with the rest of the bags. “You didn't have to do this.”
“Yes we did.” John says, looking down at you. “Not going let you starve like that if we can help it.”
“It's still strange to me, getting taken care of.” You say, squeezing the bear. “Still makes me feel a bit like a sugar baby.”
John chuckles. “Don't worry, I won't make you call me daddy.” He leans in close to your ear. “Unless you want to.” 
Your face burns hot, your entire body igniting with heat at his words. He gives you a gentle pat on the ass, directing you to the door of the car before taking the cart back to the store. 
Your face is still burning as you attempt to climb into the car with your bear, giving up and stuffing it in first. 
“What the hell is that?” Ghosts asks, turning to look at you.
“My new bear.” You respond, arranging the bear so its sitting in the seat beside you. 
“Christ.” He breathes, and you can practically hear the eye roll as you buckle the bear in. 
You buckle yourself in as John climbs in the driver's seat.
“All set?” He asks, turning to look at you. 
You nod, smiling happily despite the hunger eating away at you. 
“Let's get some dinner, then we'll head back to base.” John says, turning on the car. “Can't have our omega starving on us, can we?” 
Ghost snorts. “Best feed her before she decides we look appetizing.” 
You wrinkle your nose. “You'd be too gamey, Ghost.” You say, eyeing him before turning your gaze to the seat in front of you. “John, though...” You lick your lips. “I already know you taste good.”
John lets out a deep chuckle that rumbles with the edge of a pleased growl. “Easy, kitten.”
Ghost lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face. “Spare me. Now there's two of ‘em.” 
John chuckles again, squeezing Ghost's shoulder. “Little did you know, Simon.” 
Ghost turns to look at John. “Is it too late to get a refund?” 
You stifle a giggle as John smiles. “You'll have to ask Laswell.”  
Ghost sighs, turning to look out the window. “No hope for it, then.” 
“Hey, at least I'm cute!” You grin. “Don't tell Johnny I said that.” 
You practically beam with pride as you see Ghost's shoulders shake with his laughter. Maybe you can get through to him more than you think you can. 
Maybe, just maybe, you can get him to like you. 
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The knock comes at your door unexpectedly. It's late, and you had just begun to feel the pangs of hunger once more. You hate it, but you know it's necessary considering you'll have to go roughly a week getting in nothing but what nutrient bars can offer while exerting insane amounts of energy. Your body needs to store the calories now so that you don't die during your heat. 
You're surprised to see Ghost on the other side of the door, back in his balaclava. His shoulders are squared, but you can't scent any anger or hostility on him. 
He almost seems...nervous. 
“Hungry?” He asks, staring down at you. 
“Always.” You answer almost instinctively, staring up into his deep brown eyes. 
He motions for you to follow with his head. “C'mon.” 
You frown a little, but you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. You follow him towards the rec room, staring at his broad back. His shoulders are still squared, hands in his pockets. 
The rec room is set up again not unlike it was for your date with John. The card table is out and there's foil covered dishes on it, along with a couple plates. Your brows raise in surprise as you take it all in. 
“I made you something.” Ghost says, moving over to the table, removing the foil from one of the dishes. 
You move closer, blinking in surprise. “You made...enchiladas?” 
He nods. “As close as I could get with what I could find on short notice. There's rice and beans, too. And salsa.” 
Tears blur your vision as you stare down at the food on the table. It smells delicious and that's not just your ravenous pre-heat hunger talking. “You...did this for me?”
“Well, I had help,” He says, looking past you. 
You turn, Soap and Gaz standing at the windows that frame the door to the rec room. They smile and wave at you as you turn to look at them. A quiet laugh leaves your mouth as you smile at them. 
“Help yourself.” Ghost says as you turn back to the table. “There's plenty.”
You serve yourself a plate, nearly melting off the chair as you take the first bite. It takes you all the way back home, the good years when your father was stationed in Texas. 
“Taste okay?” Ghost asks, watching you. “I know it's not authentic, but I did a lot of research.”
“It's amazing, Ghost. Really.” You say. “Tastes just like the ones my mom would make.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes. “Thank you for doing this.”
He shrugs, looking almost bashful. “It's the least I could do. I know how big of a deal heats are to omegas and how nervous you've been. Thought you could use a little comfort.” 
You smile softly. “That means a lot.” You can't help but giggle softly. “I knew you liked me deep down.”
He gives you a look, making you giggle even more. “Don't push it.” 
NEXT ->
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burnforyou · 13 days ago
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DATING LUIGI MANGIONE
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♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ before you started dating, he had the biggest crush on you. he'd stare at you from across the lecture hall for three hours straight, never looking away. he once paid a chemistry professor to partner you two up for the lab.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ before he met you, approaching a girl never made him nervous. but you, you were different. you just made him so flustered and he hated it so much that he had to have you.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ he's a simple man: he just loves looking at you. when he wakes up in the middle of the night he admires your features under the moonlight.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ he's so touchy. he wants to be touching you 24/7. he constantly has his arm wrapped around your waist or shoulders. he holds onto your hand and guides you through crowded spaces. he plants his hand on the small of your back and rubs shapes on your skin beneath your shirt. he holds onto your thigh as he drives. when he can't hold you, he's whispering in your ear how badly he needs you.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ when he makes a joke in a group, he looks at you first to see you laugh. his eyes on you make your skin glow.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ in a group setting, he's pulling you into him and kissing you in front of everyone, so they all know you're together. even before you were officially together, he made sure everyone knew you were his.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ he taught you how to surf because he wants to share his hobbies with you. sometimes you'd "go surfing" with him, but you really went to watch him wet and shirtless for hours. he pretended like he didn't know that, and still fuck you every time. he takes you on his trips internationally to explore the world with you.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ you attempted to study for your chem final together, but it ended in him eating you out on the desk, your papers scattered and computers shut. you'd sit on his lap while doing flashcards and everytime he'd get one right you'd reward him with a kiss.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ you're both jealous and possessive. often, you see him talking to his girl friends and can tell they're into him, but he's clueless. so you show them he's yours by leaving dark marks on his neck or kissing him in front of them. when he sees you talking to another guy, he'll interrupt your conversation and steal you away from him.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ he loves to listen to you talk for hours, even if it's about something he truly isn't interested in. you're english/history smart and he's math/science smart, so you talk a lot about the latest book you're reading, your fun history stories, or psychology. you can convince him any theory is real. he doesn't necessarily believe in every one, but because it's you, he believes it.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ he constantly showers you with gifts, more than you could've ever imagined. he pays for everything and you can't remember the last time you paid for anything.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ when he cooks for you, he calls you over to taste test the sauce. he holds his hand under your chin and the spoon to your lips. he watches your face closely to study how you react to the taste.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ he begs you to wash his hair for him. when you do, he gets down on his knees in the shower and holds onto your hips. its not sexual, he just purely loves how it feels when you take care of him. when you massage his curls with conditioner, he feels like he could die right there and his life would be complete.
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ at night, you both read under the warm light from your lamps and you rest your head on his shoulder.
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angelbarelywrites · 10 months ago
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♡ slashers scenarios | sharing a bed
♡ fandoms; The Boy, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), House of Wax, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)
♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Vincent Sinclair
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡ cw; very suggestive content, implied smut
♡note; swapped out billy in this one bc i can’t imagine him sharing a bed with someone and not getting literally pornographic
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
Brahms Heelshire
> Once he decides he wants to share the bed, he finds the biggest guest room bed and brings all of the comfiest pillows and blankets he can to make it perfect
> For you more than him, but he doesn’t feel too hurt when you push half of them to the foot of the bed
> It was a lot even for a king bed
> You’re reluctant at first, not used to sharing a bed
> But you find he’s very hard to say no to once you’re in that deep
> He tries to give you space, but it’s not long before he’s wrapped around you, clinging for dear life
> And he almost immediately falls asleep like that, head tucked into your chest
> You sigh and try and relax, petting his hair
> And you fall asleep with your hand still tangled in his black locks, holding him close to you
> You wake up to him nuzzling your neck and practically whining
> “Baby…wake up…”
> You’d ask him what the problem was…if you couldn’t feel it against your leg
> You spend most of the morning still in bed, lazily fixing his predicament
Micheal Myers
> He doesn’t get why you want him to do this
> You know he doesn’t cuddle
> You know he usually gets restless and wanders at night
> But there’s no reason to say no, and even he can’t stand how sad your pout is
> You hum and stretch, tucking yourself in and look at him expectantly
> He takes off his boots and lays on top of the covers beside you, stiff as a board
> You have to coax him to even take the mask off, but he still won’t relax
> You quickly realize he’s used to high security psych ward bunks, not big comfy queen beds full of stuffed animals
> “…do you…wanna sleep on the floor?”
> He pauses.
> Shakes his head and closes his eyes.
> After you finally fall sleep, he sits up, intending on leaving
> But you look so peaceful…he can’t help to stay and watch you. Just for a little while.
> When he touches your cheek, you press into his hand. Maybe a while longer.
> When you wake up he’s still staring at you, hand long gone from your cheek
> But once you blink awake, it creeps somewhere else..
Thomas Hewitt
> He’s almost nervous of the idea
> Y’all are certainly intimate with each other - just as intimate as you would be if you were married like his mama was planning
> But what if the family noticed you were in there? He’d kill Hoyt for calling you anything nasty-
> When he sees you in skimpy PJs, he immediately forgets his worries
> He has a huge bed because he’s a huge guy, so when you curl up in it alone, it’s almost comical
> He’s staring at you as he climbs in after you, cautiously removing his mask
> His shoulders relax a little when you smile up at him, still so amazed you can stand to look at him
>“Hold me?”
> He grunts and takes no time in pulling you flush, spooning you. He’s more relaxed than he’s been in a while, sure he’ll fall asleep in no time
> Until you give a tiny sigh and shift your hips, innocently adjusting
> It doesn’t take much for you to set him off- he’s touch starved and obsessed with you.
> Along with feeling him against your ass, you can literally hear his breathing change.
> “…Tommy baby? Want me to take care of that?”
> It takes another two hours before you fall asleep, both sticky with sweat and sated, your head laying on his broad chest.
Bubba Sawyer
> He’s so happy to have a sleepover- even if you live right down the hall in the same house (I cannot imagine you dating him and being allowed to leave the farm tbh)
> He gives you an updated tour of his room- he’s very happy to show you the collection of polaroids of you he hung up.
> You were wondering where those went
> Finally he drops you on the bed, giggling quietly
> It’s old but comfy, and he has plenty of stolen pillows and blankets, and even some stuffed bears
> He strips right on down to his heart boxers, leaving his mask on for last
> He takes it off slowly, giving you that shy look he always does
> You grin and open your arms and he’s more than happy to scoop you up with a coo.
> By the time you’re settled, you’re curled around his back
> He loves being the little spoon, even if he’s a big brute
> When you wake up he’s bursting back into the room with some slightly burnt toast for breakfast
> It’s a sudden wake up call, but a welcome one
> And you repay him in tons of kisses, all over
Vincent Sinclair
> Like some of the others he’s hesitant
> But you want him to relax, he’s been working so hard- so you take him away from the studio, and into your room
> You’re not even letting him so much as sketch until he sleeps
> He tilts his head and is almost pouting, trying to guilt you - even more so once you help him remove his wax
> Until you coax him into his stomach so you can massage his back, that is
> You’re clumsy and certainly not a professional, but your hands on him is enough to melt away the stress
> He suddenly rolls over and grabs your hips as he hears you yawn
> It’s your turn to pout down at him
> But eventually you relent and let him cradle you close to his chest as he hums a nonsense lullaby
> You keep him trapped in bed the next morning as revenge, again straddling him before he can get up to leave
> But this time, you’re most certainly not yawning
3K notes · View notes
pennyellee · 8 days ago
Text
𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐒
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𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐒 | 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀 𝐀𝐔 pairings: yandere mafia namjoon x barmaid f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, slight porn with plot, 90s word count: 19,7K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily)
masterlist
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summary: “You are something I can sin for” An anchor amidst the stormy seas of life — that’s what Namjoon is for you. But it wasn’t always like that. There was a time where you’ve resented Namjoon with every fibre of your being and every word that came out of his plump lips after what he had done to prove his power. Unfortunately, you will never know what life could be if Kim Namjoon was not in it.
warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, manipulation, reader meets namjoon at 17, forced engagement, kidnapping, graphic violence, death, murder, blood, explicit language, misogyny, mentions of feminism, alcohol usage, mentions of religion and God, church smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, oppa-kink and so on (i'll add some if i'll forget)
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.
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a/n: So here we are! This is the story I've been thrilled to share as it unfolds almost simultaneously with Champagne Confetti. Y/N, alias Peaches, is my baby, and I cannot wait to write more for her and Namjoon after my current project wraps up, wink wink. I have drafts for other fics set in the same universe as my current work and the new one, Anubis. Step by step, my fairies ♥
I hope you will enjoy reading this piece I've kept to myself for a long time. The best thing about writing is that I get to build this world of imagination and live in it for months before it gets to you. Sooo, I'm very nervous and excited to push Anubis out as a second fic within this universe— which now I have decided is going to be called — 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟔. Without further ado, enjoy, fairies! ♥
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1996
There's a soft whisper in your bones, each time you wake up in the morning. As your eyes flutter open, the room is dimly lit, shadows dancing on the ceiling. All your demons are staring at you from above. They have been there when you went to sleep, and they are still there when you wake up. You know them all too well—regrets, doubts, fears—they've become familiar companions in the lonely hours of the night. They whisper tales of your failures, amplifying every mistake, every misstep, until they echo like thunder in your mind.
But would it be any different if your steps turned the other direction? Would the cosmos allow you to be? Possibly. You, however, will never know what life would be without blood flowing down the stream, dirty money from all the sins you've watched being committed.
You will never know what life could be if Kim Namjoon was not in it. But the thought is fleeting, for you know deep down that he is as much a part of your story as the demons that haunt you. His presence has shaped you in ways both profound and subtle, leaving an indelible mark on your soul and your body. The agonising pain within still remains and all you can think of is how did you get to this point in your story.
"Bitches come and go, Peaches—" you recalled those words like it was yesterday they were uttered.
"—but you and him, love, you be for life."
An anchor amidst the stormy seas of life — that's what Namjoon is for you. But it wasn't always like that. There was a time when you resented Namjoon and every word that came out of his plump lips.
Kim Namjoon was trouble and the whole Bronx knew so. Heck, even the whole state knew what kin he came from. You were no exception. But whatever you did, you never managed to put distance between you two.
The world seemed both infinitely vast and impossibly small when the streets of the Bronx were your stage. You were barely seventeen when you met Namjoon, a whirlwind of youthful energy and reckless abandon, there he is, so vivid in your memories.
Every time you'd help around Anubis, you could see his straying eyes. He had an aura of mischief that drew you in like a moth to a flame. You remember the way his gaze lingered on your skin, straying from the task at hand to fixate on you with a mixture of fascination.
Namjoon's reputation preceded him like a shadow cast by the noonday sun. Entirely impossible to overlook, yet you did. His name was whispered in hushed tones in the back alleys and dark corners where his influence held sway, and that was only the beginning. The magnitude he reached decades later is for another story.
You had heard the rumors—the tales of his involvement with the local gangs, the whispers of his connections to the underworld that lurked beneath the surface of the city. Certainly, you would have to be lying if you said that Anubis was completely legal. You were not that stupid. While it bore the façade of a legitimate establishment, its roots ran deep into the murky waters of the criminal underworld.
Mrs. Jung could smile as widely as she wanted and reassure you that all was fine and all was taken care of, but you couldn't ignore the whispers that circulated about Anubis. Yet she paid triple what you could get in any regular bar. Not like you could work at a regular bar at the time at your age. Survival often depended on turning a blind eye to the unsavory realities of life that you would never be able to face alone. Money was tight and you could not afford to lose such a good-paying job. Even if it took what it took.
"His eyes are hungry for you, Peaches—" said Mrs. Jung while toying with the little umbrella that was swimming in her Kamasutra drink you'd prepared just a few minutes ago. You envisioned your life in the city just like she had, Saint Laurent heels clicking loudly as you would walk down the streets of Manhattan. You admired your lady boss from her head to toes. Mrs. Jung was a symbol of pussy and power. Until she was not. The power was given to her and once she rejected to meet the expectations, it was taken from her.
"—But that's all he can do, at least for now."
She winked your way and then her attention turned to the approaching male figure. What she meant by that is loud and clear. You are underaged and Namjoon cannot make any move on you even if he wanted to. Although something tells you that this would be the least illegal thing he would’ve committed.
You’ve met Mark Tuan on occasion when he stopped by the bar. She was not Mrs Jung at the time, yet the notorious life of your lady boss, confused you even then. The way she and Mr Jung behaved around each other gave you the impression that he is her lover and not the tattooed boy that fucked the brains out of her in the office upstairs.
You felt the pain that was reflected on Jung Hoseok’s face when he asked where is she and you had to answer truthfully. The only thing you knew about Namjoon was that he and the Jungs ran way back. Their primary, and to the upper world’s eye, legal assets were the distilleries that distribute whiskey and brandy which you were serving each night till early hours of the morning.
The moment he particularly chose to visit the bar only those evenings you’ve been around was a louder hint shouted your way. As if you haven’t already figured. There was something intoxicating about the way he moved through the world and the way he moved you once your eyes locked.
The way he spoke to you, listened to you so attentively, gave advice on occasion and provided a shoulder to lean on, was all pulling you to him even more. It made you forget about all the skeletons that were in his closet.
The air crackled with anticipation as he walked through the room each night, straight to you, his gaze fixing on you with a mixture of fascination and desire. But amidst the heat of the moment, there was a shadow of doubt that lingered in the back of your mind.
Mrs. Jung's sudden disappearance, Namjoon taking over the day-to-day operations of Anubis—it all seemed too convenient, too perfect to be mere coincidence. It gave him the opportunity to watch you, enchant you. You were scared that he'd cut you off whenever you fucked up something. But he never did; rather the opposite, offering you a lifeline when you needed it most. There was a chemistry between you that defied explanation, a silent understanding that transcended words.
The way his muscular torso almost pressed against yours in the storage room took your breath away instantly. The faint scent of his cologne enveloped you as he leaned in closer, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. Surrounded by crates and boxes of expensive alcoholic beverages, the world seemed to fade away. His hand brushed against yours while he was lifting it, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins as you met his gaze. Reaching above your head to envelop his slender fingers around the throat of the bottle that you could not reach before, he slowly moved closer to hover above your lips. You trembled under his gaze on your lips that were slightly parted; you were panting at this point, reminding you of the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of your forbidden romance.
"Just a moment longer."
His voice was a low murmur, a seductive whisper that sent a thrill racing through your veins. Despite the warning bells that rang in the recesses of your mind, you couldn't deny the pull he had over you, the magnetic attraction that drew you closer with each passing moment, his presence overwhelming in the confined space of the storage room. You knew that this was wrong, and yet, as his breath ghosted over your skin, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away.
You would never deny it, but you could not accept it and return his affections the way he wished you would. This was temporary. You never planned to stay in Anubis for longer than needed. It was not where you belonged, and the criminal underbelly of the Bronx was not the life you had envisioned for yourself.
You could not understand what made him stay away from you for such a long time. But it certainly created an opening for you to re-think your next steps.
The twenty-first year of your life was dangerously close. You graduated from college that could be paid as your earnings in Anubis allowed so. Slowly, your little life in the farthest corner of Bronx would come to an end and you could move into the city. Get a job, maybe even a man and kids later. You wanted that white-picket-fence life and you knew that if you wanted to live it peacefully, staying here was not an option.
Your father was strongly against you leaving even though he never approved of the life you led in the dark of nights. He was not a saint either, his hands stained with the same sins that plagued the streets of the Bronx. There was no man in the whole New York City that would not know the name Kim Namjoon and your father was not an exception. Although, you never had the courage to mention his name and acknowledge that the man your father praises when he drinks his beer and plays poker with his drunkard old pals, is spending his evenings talking to you.
"I tell ya all, that Namjoon boy has got a head on his shoulders like no other," your father's voice boomed across the small kitchen.
"A real businessman, that one," a flicker of unease stirring in the pit of your stomach as you caught sight of the familiar glint of admiration in your step-father's eyes. Namjoon's name hung in the air between you, a silent reminder of the bond that had formed between you in the shadows of Anubis.
"I wouldn't be surprised if he ended up running this whole city someday, right, Peaches?" You forced a smile, a wave of uncertainty washing over you as you considered the implications of your father's words. Namjoon's ambitions were as vast as the city itself, his influence reaching far beyond the confines of Anubis and the criminal underworld it symbolized.
"That's Mr. Jung's place, dad," you shook your head disapprovingly but with a smile on your face. His comrades laughed and shared similar ideas as he did though.
"That would be a boy for your Peaches," one of his comrades chuckled, the sound echoing off the walls of the cramped kitchen as they continued to sing Namjoon's praises after you only silently smiled again and opted not to respond. Your father however scoffed. He praised him, yes. But would he approve of his only child being with such a man like Namjoon is?
"When are you leaving for the city, young Missy?" Old man whose name you've never known asked with a cigarette in his mouth, looking over his cards rather than your way.
"Don't even support her in that big apple bullshit." You felt a pang of disappointment at his lack of support, but you were not surprised. You glanced around the kitchen, meeting the eyes of the men gathered there, each one offering their own opinion on your future. Some nodded in agreement with your step-father, while others remained silent, their expressions unreadable.
"Don't listen to those old men, child—"
"You got dreams, girl. Don't let nobody hold you back from chasing 'em.”
Truth to be told. The job, white fence, man and kids were not your dreams. You did not really know what to dream of, being restricted in such a dark part of the world that Bronx was for many, you did not even know why you hate your home like that. And you certainly weren’t even sure what is it to have a dream. But you hoped you’ll create some once you step your foot down, somewhere else than here. It doesn’t have to be Manhattan in particular. Anywhere but here is fine.
"Peaches, love, be sweet and bring us another beer from the fridge on your way to work, would ya?"
The request snapped you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to the present moment. With a nod, you forced a smile, hiding the turmoil within as you moved to comply with his request. You were sure you'd be late to your shift at Anubis yet again, but you knew that Namjoon would turn a blind eye. He always did when it came to you.
But Namjoon was not present the moment you stepped into Anubis that night. As you made your way through the dimly lit interior of Anubis, a sense of foreboding settled over you like a heavy blanket. The usual hustle and bustle of the bar seemed muted, the air thick with tension as you approached the bar.
Mrs. Jung was still nowhere to be found and therefore, for a few months, Namjoon had replaced her. But tonight he was not here. He usually came around ten p.m. and stayed until you cleaned the very last table and closed the bar.
Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and set about your duties, determined to carry on despite the growing sense of unease that lingered in the air. But as the night wore on, the feeling of dread only intensified, leaving you on edge as you awaited Namjoon's return.
You watched the sun rising through the large windows that let the light come into the bar that was still beaming with a significant number of people of various ages. Despite your efforts to focus on your tasks, your thoughts kept drifting back to him. Where could he be? Why hadn't he shown up as usual? The questions nagged at you, fueling the unease that had settled in your stomach like a lead weight.
"Peaches?!" You heard the voice of one of the local and returning customers from the other side of the dancing floor. He was a friend. Or so you thought. He raised two fingers into the air and in a second you were already pouring the brownish liquid of Jung's Whiskey into the crystal-clear glasses.
You walked over to the table he was sitting at alongside a face you'd never seen before. Thanking you for the drinks, he pointed his thumb to the man sitting next to him.
"Peaches, Jinyoung—"
"Jinyoung, Peaches."
You offered a polite smile, acknowledging the introduction as you set down the drinks on the table. The unfamiliar man, Jinyoung, returned the gesture with a nod, his expression unreadable.
"Nice to meet you, Jinyoung," you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.
Jinyoung's gaze met yours, his eyes dark and probing as if searching for something within you. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort under his scrutiny, a feeling that only added to the unease already gnawing at your insides. Something about him set off alarm bells in your mind, a primal instinct warning you to tread carefully.
"What's a beauty like you doing tucked in Anubis?" Jinyoung asked, his voice smooth and velvety. You glanced around the dimly lit bar, suddenly aware of the eyes that seemed to linger on you from every corner, not understanding why.
"I... I work here," you said, a sudden shyness prevailing on the surface. You never really engaged with other men apart from Namjoon. For some reason, each time a man approached you, all of them quickly backed out, opting to not even look your way. For a long time, you did not know what you did wrong to chase them all away. But you got to know that night.
Jinyoung's lips quirked into a knowing smile, his gaze never leaving yours.
"I can offer you a better job, beauty," his words dripping with a seductive allure, and in that moment, you decided you needed to get back to work ASAP. He sounded like trouble you did not want on your last days here.
"I... I appreciate the offer, but I'm quite content here," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.
"You sure? I could have good use of someone like you, Peaches." Your heart pounded in your chest as Jinyoung's words washed over you. He played with your name on his tongue, and you had a hint that the job he was offering you would be something much worse than working in Anubis.
"Easy, Jinyoung, that's Namjoon's girl you're talking to." Jackson finally spoke up as if he heard your little begging in your head, but this was not what you expected him to say. Were you Namjoon's girl? Years went by and he merely brushed upon your hand with his own. There was no attempt to woo you directly. So how come everyone saw it this way—you as Namjoon's girl?
"I'm not Namjoon's girl—" you said, standing your ground for once. You saw Jackson's eyes widen and Jinyoung smirk at your remark.
"I'm no one's girl—"
"Nonetheless, thanks for the offer but I have to decline." Jinyoung's smirk widened at your words, his gaze flickering with amusement as if he found your defiance entertaining. A second later you were on your way back to the bar. He was Jackson's friend, but he was crude and he did not understand he ought to fuck off. The grip you suddenly felt on your upper arm was painful enough to make you wince, yanking you back as you squinted your eyes from the pain of his touch.
"What makes you say no if you're no one's slu—" your ears picked up his words before they were silenced. Forever. His last words were cut off by a deafening gunshot, leaving you frozen in shock. The sound of it still ringing in your ears as you turned to see the source of the chaos. There, standing with a smoking gun in his hand, was Namjoon, his expression unreadable as he stared down at Jinyoung's lifeless form. One side of Jackson's face was covered in blood that was his friend's, his shock mirroring your own. And you were scared to even move an inch.
Namjoon had just killed a man in cold blood, he shot him right in front of you. Without mercy. Panic surged through you as you realized the gravity of what had just transpired. The grip he had on your upper arm weakened yet remained even after his head fell down. It was a clear shot to the side of his head.
By now, half of the bar emptied, only those underworld rats stayed unfazed. Namjoon was always so calm, so collected. But now, he looked like a completely different person. The bar had fallen into an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of your own ragged breathing. You wanted to run, but your legs failed you, unable to move as the reality of the situation sank in.
"What—" your heart hammered in your chest as you searched for something, anything, to say, but the words caught in your throat, choked by the weight of the moment. Your whole body trembled uncontrollably, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. You reached to pull your hand away from Jinyoung's lifeless grip and while you struggled to do so, the scenery before you was not helping you to calm down. The side of his head blown up, you could see parts of his brain, immediately making you empty your stomach on the floor. The fact that Namjoon hadn't said a word since he literally came out of nowhere was not contributing to the situation either.
You heard his smooth voice but it was too muffled at this point. He was giving orders to Jackson, but you did not understand a single word coming out of his mouth. Your head was spinning and the room felt like a carousel.
"Why would you—" you began to stutter, your voice barely a whisper. The question died on your lips, swallowed by the overwhelming sense of dread that hung heavy in the air. Namjoon had just committed an act of unspeakable violence, ending a man's life without a second thought. Nothing will be the same ever again. You stayed out of all the illegalness that surrounded Anubis on purpose. What eyes don't see, heart doesn't hurt. What you don't know, can't hurt you. But now you eye-witnessed such brutality and he won't let you walk away to the other end of the rainbow.
You did not expect him to hear you nor even answer your remark, but of course, Kim Namjoon was always here to listen to you.
"He touched you."
The words hit you like a physical blow, jolting you out of your stunned silence. He wasn't just stating a fact; he was issuing a warning, a chilling reminder of the consequences of crossing him. Looking him in the eye, he looked like a possessive maniac, like someone determined to protect what he perceived as his.
"He didn't—" you began, your voice faltering under the weight of Namjoon's scrutiny. Yet you stopped yourself to think whether Jinyoung's intentions were harmless or not. You remembered the way Jinyoung had leered at you, his touch lingering where it shouldn't have.
"No one can touch you, Peaches."
You felt a chill run down your spine as the weight of his words settled over you. It wasn't just a declaration; it was a promise, a vow to protect you at any cost. But beneath the surface, you sensed something darker, something primal and possessive that sent chills down your body.
You were paralyzed by the intensity of his gaze, unable to tear your eyes away from his. Your mind raced with a million thoughts and questions, but you knew better than to voice them.
That night you started to hate each and every gaze he threw your way when you were working, all the men running away after uttering a single word to you, and all the remarks about you being Namjoon's girl.
But were you ready to be Namjoon's girl? To be part of his world?
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You sit up, the sheets clinging to your skin like a shroud, and confront the spectres that linger above. Even after some weeks, you still cannot shake off the tremor you've experienced that night.
"Peaches?!" You heard your father's voice. You were hidden in the confines of your small room for days now, coming out only to take a bottle of water, and even that you managed to minimize by taking the whole six-pack. You couldn't bring yourself to respond.
The look in Namjoon's eyes, the sound of the gunshot ringing in your ears, the sight of Jinyoung's lifeless body—all of it was seared into your mind, haunting you like a relentless spectre. You needed some time. But it was running out quickly.
Lost in the labyrinth of your thoughts, you remained silent, grappling with the weight of the choices that lay before you. You packed your bag last night, all the cash stuffed inside at various places, just to be turned right back on your heel by two muscular men you'd never met before. The color they wore was emerald green, and you quickly understood that those were Jung soldiers, if you could call them that.
Your father was similarly confused. His eyes were darting between you and the soldiers as he struggled to make sense of the situation. So here you are, awaiting when he will decide to collect you. What is he waiting for? You knew that your time was running out; you just didn't know exactly when it would run out.
In that moment that night, you missed the Namjoon you thought he was. All you could see was a stranger, a dangerous man whose actions had shattered your illusions and left you reeling in their wake. Yes, you knew his line of work, but you'd rather not see it with your own two eyes. You'd rather stay oblivious to who he really was just to keep the picture of the Namjoon you knew hanging a little bit longer.
"You can't hide there forever." And you certainly did not plan to, but coming out to see your father's worried face after he sees how disheveled you look could wait for another day or so. You did not know what Namjoon intended to achieve by making you a prisoner in your own home.
Every fiber of your being wanted to hate Namjoon, but you did not know whether that was even possible with how smart that man was with his mouth.
This cage of fear and uncertainty made you uneasy. The wind that forcefully closed your window awoke you from your thoughts. You lived on the second floor of an old block of apartments. You moved toward the old rusted window, cautiously pushing it open again. The cool night air rushed to meet your cheeks, and you closed your eyes to feel it.
Peering down, you assessed the drop. It wasn't too high, and the fire escape just below offered a feasible route. Why had it not occurred to you earlier?
"Peaches, please, talk to me. They've been saying that you can't go out and should wait for sajangnim Kim."
Your father's voice was strained, a mix of concern and frustration. You hesitated, torn between the urge to reassure him and the pressing need to just run for the hills before it was too late for you.
What you realized in the moment, listening to his muffled pleas, was that this might be the last time you'd see him. You couldn't come back to the Bronx ever again. Nor New York. You weren't sure exactly what the magnitude of Jung's power was that Namjoon shared, but you had the hunch that wherever you'd hide in this state, he would find you.
"Dad?" you said softly, your voice barely a whisper. You felt a lump in your throat, the weight of the impending goodbye pressing down on you. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.
"I'm here, Peaches," your father responded, his voice breaking slightly. "Please, come out. We'll figure this out." Tears welled up in your eyes as you clung to the closed door.
"It's no go, Dad."
"Please, just open the door." His voice was closer now, just outside the door.
You glanced around your room, grabbing your packed bag and slipping it over your shoulder.
"I love you, Dad. I'm sorry. Bye—"
With a final, sorrowful glance toward the door, you slipped out of the window, your feet finding purchase on the metal grating of the fire escape. You descended quickly, not daring to look back. The metal stairs creaked under your weight, each step taking you further from the life you knew. You needed to disappear.
You had no shoes on, and the white tank top clung to your skin, outlining your curves and breasts. The night air was cool against your exposed skin, a harsh contrast to the warmth of your tears. The metal of the stairs felt rough under your bare feet, but you pushed forward until you were all the way down.
Catching your breath and glancing around the dimly lit alleyway, the city felt oppressively silent, the only sound your own ragged breathing. As you took a step forward, a soft scoff resonated in your ears, leaving you standing there frozen. The man was totally invisible in the dark shadows of the alley between the buildings until he pulled out his zippo lighter to light a cigarette, illuminating his face. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Where are you headed, Peaches?"
The man who was casually leaning against the cold bricks wasn't unfamiliar to you. You, as a barmaid at Anubis, had the extravagant privilege to meet four out of the big seven. Kim Taehyung being one of them, standing here in front of you.
"Mr. Kim," you breathed, dread pooling in your stomach. You were on a first-name basis only with Namjoon even though they all scolded you, especially your lady boss, for being way too formal and polite, making them feel older than they actually are. Truth be told, you were putting some distance between them, but you utterly failed to do so with Namjoon, and here you are, on the run.
"I'm your family now, Peaches," Taehyung said, his voice dripping with mockery. "You should start getting used to that, so drop the mister finally."
You gritted your teeth, trying to steady your nerves as you faced Taehyung. "Taehyung," you corrected yourself, though the informal address felt wrong on your tongue.
"That's better, what a good girl you can be," he said with a smirk, taking a step closer. His presence felt suffocating, a reminder of the dangerous world you had stumbled into.
"Why are you here, Taehyung?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
"Why are you here, Peaches?" Taehyung countered, his tone filled with amusement. You bit the inside of your mouth, feeling the nerves tighten their grip on you.
"Getting some fresh air," you replied, trying to sound casual despite the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.
Taehyung raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Ah, yes, because nothing says 'fresh air' like sneaking out of your window in the dead of night," he quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you. "I just needed to clear my head," you said, hoping he would buy your flimsy excuse.
"You are not planning to do anything stupid now, Peaches, right?" You paused, considering your response carefully. Taehyung's tone, though casual, carried a hint of warning that sent a shiver down your spine. You slightly shook your head to show dismissal.
"Namjoon-hyung said you looked pretty shaken up that night." You couldn't help but tense at Taehyung's mention of Namjoon, a surge of apprehension coursing through you. You had tried to bury the memories of that night deep within you, but they continued to resurface, haunting your every thought.
"I'm fine," you replied, forcing a tight smile. "Just had a rough night, that's all."
"It looks like you're about to have another one to me." Your heart skipped a beat at Taehyung's ominous remark, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. Despite his casual demeanor, there was an underlying tension in the air that sent a shiver down your spine.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rising sense of unease.
"Unzipped duffle bag, dollar bills fell from it while you were going down, that looks like you were very eager to get that fresh air."
"I... I was just going for a walk," you stammered, scrambling for an excuse. Taehyung raised an eyebrow, his gaze unwavering.
"Without putting your shoes on?"
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Taehyung's scrutiny bearing down on you. "I couldn't sleep," you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I needed some fresh air to clear my head.” You repeat yourself, but you know that you can’t fool him no matter what.
Taehyung's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he shrugged, as if dismissing the matter altogether. "Well, you certainly know how to make an exit," he remarked, his smirk never faltering.
You forced a weak smile, trying to mask the unease bubbling inside you. "Guess I've always had a flair for the dramatic," you quipped, though the words rang hollow in your ears.
Taehyung chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "That you do, Peaches. That you do," he said cryptically, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn't quite decipher.
"You know, Namjoon doesn't like it when his... family goes missing," he said, the emphasis on 'family' making you flinch. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in a lazy stream.
You clenched your fists, feeling trapped. "I'm not missing," you said, your voice firmer than before. "I'm right here."
"I'd probably get a head start if I were you." Taehyung nodded slowly, as if considering your words.
Your heart pounded in your chest. "A head start?"
He took another drag, the smirk never leaving his lips. "I'm not a monster, Peaches. I'll give you a five-minute head start before I come after you."
The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. He was actually giving you a chance to run, but this time you would know someone was after you. You glanced around, calculating your options. The streets were empty, but you knew they wouldn't stay that way for long.
"Five minutes, Peaches. Starting now."
You turned and ran, your bare feet slapping against the pavement. The adrenaline coursed through your veins as you sprinted down the alley, knowing that Taehyung's smirk was etched in your mind.
You didn't know where you were going, but you knew you had to get as far away as possible. Everything blurred as you pushed yourself to run faster, the sound of your heartbeat drowning out everything else.
If you hide well, he can't find you, can he? You just have to find yourself a place to hide until morning and then you can wait till sunrise, get to the airport and fly to the first destination that will pop up.
You could feel the cold concrete scraping your feet, but the pain was a distant echo compared to the urgency of escape. You glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see Taehyung's figure emerging from the shadows, but for now, you were alone.
You could feel the cold concrete scraping your feet, but the pain was a distant echo compared to the urgency of escape. You glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see Taehyung's figure emerging from the shadows, but for now, you were alone.
The five minutes neared their end, and you knew you couldn't stay hidden forever. You had to keep moving, keep putting distance between you and Taehyung. Peering through the leaves, you scanned the area, your mind racing through possible routes and hiding spots.
"If I don’t bring you back, he'll come instead, Peaches!" Taehyung's voice echoed through, taunting you.
"You don't want to anger him, do you now?"
You needed a plan, and fast. Glancing around, you noticed a narrow passageway between two buildings, just wide enough for you to squeeze through. It might lead you to a different part of the neighborhood, giving you a chance to lose Taehyung in the labyrinth of backstreets.
You bolted towards the passageway, your bare feet slapping against the cold pavement. The alley was narrow and dark, but you pushed forward, heart pounding in your chest. Every shadow seemed to move, every sound amplified in the stillness of the night.
"They all run at first, Peaches—" Taehyung's voice echoed, closer now. "You're cute thinking you have a chance to get away."
It was way too narrow even if you put your bag down from your shoulder and dragged it as you tried to squeeze through. Every shadow seemed to move, every sound amplified in the stillness of the night, and you were scared that he would get to you soon. You knew he was out there, somewhere, searching for you.
"Although, my mind is troubled. Why, out of all of them, do you run?" There was a pause, then a chuckle.
You pushed yourself harder, feeling the rough brick walls scrape against your skin. You needed to keep moving, but you also needed a moment to think. The airport was too far, especially when they were already looking for you. You thought you were clever to disappear through the window as if you were in some cheesy cliché movie.
"Namjoon-hyung was always good to you, wasn't he?" He was. Until the moment someone else's brain was blown up by him right in front of you, simply because of his possessiveness while he never made you two exclusive. Or at least you thought so, as it showed—you were claimed by him sooner than you actually realized. You felt the panic rising in your chest, threatening to overwhelm you.
"You have no reason to run, Peaches," Taehyung's voice was taunting, echoing off the walls. "Namjoon-hyung will be so disappointed when he finds out how far you've gone." You ignored the majority of his words, focusing on finding a way out.
You closed your eyes and tried to think harder this time. The old train yard—bingo—it was on the outskirts of the city. It was abandoned, a place where few people ventured. If you could make it there, you might be able to find a boxcar to hide in until morning.
"Family doesn't abandon family, Peaches!" You heard his voice again, this time more distant.
Emerging from the passageway, you found yourself in a small courtyard. It was littered with old furniture and discarded trash; the smell was awful, but you didn't have time to dwell on that.
You listened intently, straining to hear any sign of Taehyung. The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant hum of traffic and the occasional bark of a dog.
You stuck to the shadows, moving as quietly as possible. The train yard was a long way off, but it was your best shot at staying out of immediate reach. Or so you thought.
You couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every rustle of leaves, every distant footstep made you jump. You forced yourself to stay calm, to focus on the path ahead. Panicking would only slow you down.
The city's edge came into view, the silhouette of the train yard looming in the distance. You quickened your pace, the sight of your potential sanctuary giving you a burst of energy. You crossed the threshold into the yard, the rusted tracks and abandoned cars offering a twisted sense of comfort.
An old boxcar with the door slightly ajar beckoned to you. You slipped inside, the smell of rust and decay filling your nostrils. You closed the door behind you, plunging the space into darkness. It was cramped and musty, but it was hidden.
Sinking to the floor, you allowed yourself a moment to breathe. Your body ached, your feet throbbed, but you had made it. For now, you were safe. You could only hope that Taehyung would give up the chase, or at least lose your trail long enough for you to figure out your next move.
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The sound of gravel crunching outside the boxcar woke you up and consequently made your heart jump into your throat. You held your breath, straining to listen. The footsteps were deliberate and slow, echoing through the stillness of the night.
You held your breath, trying to remain as quiet as possible. The footsteps drew closer, each crunch of gravel sending a shockwave through your body. Your mind raced with possibilities. Was it Taehyung? Or perhaps someone else stumbling upon your hiding spot?
"I seriously don't understand why you didn't throw her over your shoulder and take her back to her room." The older male shot him a glare.
"Oh come the fuck on, you're one to talk." It was Taehyung's voice, laced with frustration and annoyance.
“I did not lose her, I gave her choice and she chose wrong, she’ll be back though, in no time.” The younger one scoffed and Taehyung quirked his brows, evidently amused by his brother. 
"Well, at least that was my woman I lost and not our Hyung's." The tattooed heartthrob spat his friend's way when he heard his scoff.
"This isn't really my job. I'm only doing this because Namjoon cares about her too much to leave someone incompetent to watch her until he'll come back."
“Or you’re the only one without a woman, Tae.” You heard a little thump as if he jokingly punched him and the other voice chuckled. But first and foremost –
Namjoon's away. He did not come for you as he's away, and if away means out of the state, you have a bigger chance to make an exit than you originally thought.
Seeing him would only make things worse. Listening to his sweet melodies of words would make you doubt what Taehyung initiated—you have no reason to run. Apart from that, you do. He was deeply entrenched in the world of organized crime, his life a constant dance between power and peril. While his charming demeanor and enigmatic presence had drawn you in, you knew that his lifestyle came with its own set of risks and consequences.
He operated in the shadows, his actions dictated by a code of loyalty to his comrades and ruthlessness towards his enemies. At least that's what you heard people talk about the Jungs and their family man.
You didn't think there was room for innocence. But were you innocent? You had blood on your hands. Jinyoung's. You had been complicit in his demise. While it wasn't you who pulled the trigger, you were the motive.
As the voices grew louder, you strained to make out what they were saying. The sound of footsteps approached the boxcar, each one sending a jolt of fear through you. Were they getting closer? Were they about to open the door and drag you out into the open?
"I did not expect her to play the game that well, I have to give her that," Taehyung remarked, his voice tinged with admiration. Your heart raced as you listened to their conversation.
"Smart, just like he is."
The footsteps came to a stop just outside the boxcar, and you braced yourself for the door to swing open at any moment. Every nerve in your body was on edge, ready to flee at the first sign of danger.
But instead of the door creaking open, the voices began to fade away, the gravel crunching underfoot growing softer as they moved further away. Relief washed over you in waves, but you remained cautious, waiting until the sound of their footsteps had disappeared entirely before allowing yourself to relax.
You stayed hidden in the darkness of the boxcar, unsure of how much time had passed. Eventually, the adrenaline began to ebb, leaving you exhausted and drained. You were scared that they were waiting outside and the moment you decided to move places would be fatal for you.
The growl in your stomach was loud, echoing in the empty boxcar. You hadn't eaten in what felt like an eternity, and the gnawing hunger was beginning to take its toll. Despite the fear that they might be lying in wait, you knew you couldn't stay here forever or you'd die of hunger very soon.
Despite the fear that they might be lying in wait, you knew you couldn't stay here forever. Peeking through the small gap, you scanned the area. The night was still, and there was no sign of Taehyung or anyone else.
Slipping out of the boxcar, you kept to the shadows, moving quietly and quickly. You needed to find food, but more importantly, you needed to find a safer place to hide. If you couldn't reach the airport, you'd have to wait somewhere until you were considered off the radar. Would Namjoon lose his interest if he knew you were gone for good? You hoped so, but you also strongly doubted that. The man had had his eyes set on you for three years or so, without ever losing interest in you.
The city was vast, with many nooks and crannies where you could potentially evade capture, but you moved in the dead of the night cautiously. Slowly closing the distance between the convenience store at least ten blocks from your home, its lights were still on and you thanked the almighty, or more so the 24 hour market in front of you.
The store seemed deserted, only a shabby-looking man in his mid-thirties sitting behind the counter, half asleep. You slipped inside, quickly grabbing some food and water before leaving to pay at the counter. When the doorbell rang indicating that a customer entered the small store, you froze in place.
You ducked behind a shelf, hoping the dim lighting and cluttered aisles would conceal you. Peering through a gap between products, you saw a figure enter. You may be paranoid but you wouldn't take the risk when you had managed to not be caught for what seemed like hours. You knew better.
Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound of your heartbeat almost louder than the growling stomach from earlier. You clutched the food tightly, muscles tense, waiting for the perfect moment to quickly throw the few bucks on the counter and make your leave. You straightened a little.
It wasn't him. It was just a person that resembled him. With a rush of relief, you moved to the counter. The shabby-looking clerk barely glanced up as you placed your items down and reached into your pocket for the money. Just as you were about to pay, a hand slammed the money down on the counter in front of you. Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes widened.
You looked up slowly, dread pooling in your stomach. Taehyung stood beside you, his eyes locking onto yours with a cold, triumphant smile.
"My treat," he said smoothly, his voice dripping with mock politeness. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. The clerk, oblivious to the tension, lazily rang up the items and handed the change to Taehyung. He pocketed it without breaking eye contact with you.
You acted rather quickly after you regained your senses, but the exit was blocked by the man you saw earlier. How could you not recognize the famous heartthrob of this decade, Jeon Jungkook? Only a few people knew of his connection to the Jungs, Kims, and Parks.
"Going somewhere?" Jungkook's voice was smooth and exactly identical to the one you heard outside of the boxcar, but there was an edge to it that sent chills down your spine. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his dark eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam.
Panic surged through you as you realized your escape route was cut off. You glanced around the store, searching for another way out, but Taehyung's hand clamped down on your arm, his grip firm and unyielding.
The clerk did not care to intervene; he knew their faces and what they represented. One girl was not worth the trouble for him.
"Let's go," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. You had no choice but to follow, your mind racing with thoughts of escape. As you stepped out of the store, the chilly night air hit you, a stark contrast to the suffocating presence of Taehyung beside you. You scanned the street for any potential way out, but Taehyung's grip on your arm tightened, steering you toward a nearby alley.
You stumbled slightly, trying to keep pace with him. The alley was dark and narrow, the perfect place for someone to disappear. Desperation surged through you, fueling your determination. You had to find a way out of this.
"You lasted more than I expected, Peaches. I have to give you that." You fought to suppress the shiver that threatened to run down your spine. Taehyung's voice, usually smooth and melodic, now held an edge of something darker, something sinister.
"But it's time to go home."
The weight of his intentions pressed down on you like a heavy stone. You did not know what home he was speaking of. Your home? Namjoon's home? You'd never been there; you couldn't know what home he meant. But something told you that wherever he'd take you, "home" would be a gilded cage, a place of confinement disguised as comfort.
You remained silent, your jaw clenched in defiance as you continued to walk, your eyes darting around the alley for any sign of escape. But every corner seemed to lead to another dead end, and the walls closed in around you like a vice.
Tears welled up in your eyes as the desperation hit your nerves. Taehyung's grip tightened slightly, as if warning you against any further attempts at escape.
"There was no need to run, Peaches." Wasn't there? You stopped to think for a minute. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.
With a sudden burst of strength, you twisted out of Taehyung's grip and bolted. The sound of his shout echoed behind you, but you didn't look back. You darted through the maze of backstreets, your only goal to put as much distance between you and Taehyung as possible.
Reaching a dead end, you spotted a fire escape ladder. Without a second thought, you began climbing, your fingers slipping on the cold metal. You reached the rooftop, not daring to look back as you sprinted across the gravel. The cityscape stretched before you, a chaotic playground of rooftops and danger.
You leaped from one building to the next, each landing jarring your bones, but you couldn't stop. You heard Taehyung's voice calling your name, a mix of frustration and anger, but you didn't dare slow down. You reached the edge of a particularly wide gap between buildings and hesitated, just a split second too long.
A strong arm wrapped around your waist, yanking you back. You thrashed, but the grip was unyielding. Jungkook's face came into view, his expression grim. He was faster than Taehyung, and you knew your chances to outrun him were slight, but you still hoped.
"You can't run forever, Peaches," he said quietly, almost regretfully. You could hear Taehyung's leather boots stomping against the roof's concrete and his ragged breath in unison.
You struggled, kicking and clawing, but he held firm. Your heart sank as the reality of the situation set in. Just then, you heard the uncomfortable digital sound of the Motorola flip phone that was in Taehyung's hand once he stopped in front of you.
"Hmm?" Taehyung answered the phone and ended the gut-wrenching sound. You knew who was on the other side of the line. Jungkook still held you securely, his eyes never leaving yours.
There was a pause, and then he handed you the phone.
"Your Mr. Man wants to speak to you."
You hesitated for a moment, the weight of the phone heavy in your hand. With a deep breath, you brought it to your ear, steeling yourself for the inevitable confrontation with Namjoon.
"Hello?" Your voice trembled slightly, betraying the fear and uncertainty swirling within you.
"You're losing sleep, love," he said, his tone smooth but laced with a menacing undertone. You took a shaky breath.
"S-so are you." He chuckled. You bit the inside of your lip out of nerves.
"I'd sleep better if you came back to me like the good girl I know you are."
The mixture of his charm and underlying threat was intoxicating and terrifying.
"I can't, Namjoon," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I can't live like this anymore. I never wanted to live like this, and you knew that."
"Life is just about to begin for you, love—" he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Our life," he added, and your grip tightened around the phone.
"What does that even mean?" you demanded, a mix of anger and desperation coloring your words.
"It means," he began, his voice smooth yet chilling, "that whatever you fear, we'll figure this out together."
"Please, Namjoon," you begged, your voice barely a whisper. "Let me go. I can't. I just can't," you cried out.
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and you held your breath, hoping against hope that he might relent. Your heart pounded with a mix of fear and helplessness.
"Freedom is an illusion, love," he said, almost gently. "The only freedom you'll ever have is with me. Now, come back. We'll talk this through, and I promise you, everything will be fine. Just trust me."
"Namjoon—"
"Peaches—" he quickly interrupted your attempt to plead again.
"Don't make me take harsher measures to ensure you'll come back to me." His tone grew colder, the underlying threat unmistakable.
"Wh-what are you talking about?" you asked, a tremor in your voice.
"You know what I can do. It would be a shame if the same thing happened to someone else you care about." His words hung in the air, heavy with menace.
You looked at Jungkook and Taehyung, their faces impassive yet resolute. They were ready to enforce Namjoon's will, no matter the cost.
"Why are you doing this to me?" you asked, voice quivering.
"We can talk about that once you come home," Namjoon replied, his voice smooth but unyielding.
"Namjoon, please..." you started, desperation lacing your words.
"Enough, Peaches," he cut you off sharply. "You know what's at stake. I expect you back within an hour. Hand the phone to Taehyung."
With a heavy heart, you handed the phone back to Taehyung. He took it, his eyes filled with a mix of pity, but you didn't think it was genuine. You felt Jungkook's grip loosen slightly, but not enough to let you go.
Taehyung listened to Namjoon for a moment, then nodded. "Understood," he said before hanging up. He looked at you, his expression resigned.
"Let's go," he said softly.
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You don't even know how you managed to fall asleep in the car. They took your bag, draped a warm blanket over you, and sat you down on the back seat. You did not protest anymore, even though the thought of jumping out of the car went through your head briefly.
You thought of your father, your friends, and everyone you ever met and cared for when he took the ultimate move that would make you leave everything in a heartbeat. You don't want more blood on your hands.
At the same time, you could not understand why Namjoon would take such harsh measures. This wasn't the Namjoon you knew—heck, you don't even know if you ever knew that man.
The lavish room surrounding you was magnificent and screaming one name: Namjoon. Even his scent was clinging to every single piece of the room. The silk sheets clung to your skin, and you couldn't help but close your eyes again. The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting a golden hue across the room.
You could hear the audible difference in your surroundings. The Bronx had a distinctive hum, a chaotic symphony of life and struggle. But this—this was different. The sounds outside the open window were unmistakably Manhattan. The distant buzz of traffic, the occasional honk of a horn, and the muffled chatter of people far below created a stark contrast to the quiet tension inside.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. Every moment spent here felt like a betrayal to the life you once knew, the people you once loved. But escape wasn't just about physical freedom—it was about breaking free from the psychological chains Namjoon had wrapped around you.
You did not know whether you weren't running for the hills now because this oddly feels like you are meant to be here or because you don't know if you should. You spent a lot of time rolling around and thinking about this. You had not come to a conclusion yet. You'd only decided that you would give him the courtesy to talk after all the years that he and his family supported you by giving you a job.
With that resolve, you climbed out of bed, feeling the weight of silk sheets slipping away. The cold floor sent a shiver up your spine, bringing you fully awake. You made your way to the bathroom, the reflection in the mirror staring back at you. You need a haircut, maybe even a new hair color.
The shower's hot water provided a temporary refuge, washing away the grime and tension of the past few days. After drying off, you dressed in clothes Namjoon had laid out for you—an unspoken reminder of his control.
You entered the kitchen, where the aroma of breakfast hung in the air. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the rich aroma of bacon and eggs, momentarily distracting you. You were starving.
As you moved further into the room, a sudden noise made you jump. Startled, you turned to see a figure in a white chef's uniform bustling about the kitchen. He looked up, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw you.
"Good morning, Misses Kim," he said with a polite nod. "I didn't expect you to be up so early.” The title he used sent a shiver down your spine. Misses Kim. It was as if the walls were closing in, suffocating you with the weight of an identity that wasn’t yours to claim. You overlooked yourself and your attire.
You could see your bra-less breasts and perky nipples through that white tanktop, but the chef was trained well enough to not look that way. He would most likely be beheaded by Namjoon if he would dare to look that way.
"Good morning," you replied, your voice tinged with a mix of nerves and hunger. You forced a small smile.
The chef, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, set down the spatula he was holding and wiped his hands on a towel. "My name is Seo Kang-joon, Misses Kim. I'm Sajangnim's private chef—" you figured that much. Of course that man has a private chef when he cannot boil a potato for the love of God.
"He tasked me to make you some breakfast and tell you he'll be with you shortly," he explained, gesturing to the array of food laid out on the counter.
You nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen island. Your stomach growled audibly, and despite the chaos in your mind, the food before you was an undeniable lure. You picked up a piece of toast, buttering it slowly as Kang-joon resumed his work.
"How long have you been working for Namjoon?" you asked, trying to fill the silence with something other than your own anxious thoughts.
Kang-joon glanced up from the stove, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "About three years now," he replied. "I've switched with my Appa; he was working for the Kims for two generations and now it's my turn—"
"That's a long time," you said, taking a bite of the toast, the warmth of the food providing a small comfort.
"Yes, it is," he agreed, his voice gentle. "Namjoon is a good employer, he's always treated us fairly. And he cares about you a great deal—"
"I've seen you before, didn't I?" you interrupted, suddenly recalling a moment that had slipped through your mind like sand.
"At the private party last month. You were serving food, right?"
Kang-joon nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yes, that was me. I remember seeing you there, although you were quite busy too—"
You were supposed to be waitressing the tables, plural, yet you only waitressed one table that night. As per usual.
"Yep, that was my reality, I guess," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Before all of this."
Kang-joon's expression turned somber, and he stopped cooking momentarily.
"Namjoon doesn't let anyone near you, but I've seen how happy you make him. He's different around you." Of course he thinks so. You don't blame him for his inability to see through this. It's not his place.
You fell silent, pondering his words. The chaos of Namjoon's life and the dark undercurrents that surrounded him felt suffocating. "But at what cost?" you whispered, more to yourself than to him.
"He means well—" he paused his thought and got silent, and you knew that means only one thing.
"I appreciate your loyalty to him," you said, forcing a smile that felt brittle on your lips.
"Good morning, love," he said, his voice deep and commanding. His eyes darted between you and Kang-joon, who stood with a spatula in hand, caught in the moment. "I hope you're both having a pleasant chat."
Kang-joon bowed slightly, and you could see the way he was careful to keep his composure, even as the atmosphere shifted with Namjoon's presence. "I was just finishing up breakfast, Sajangnim," he said politely. "Miss Kim and I were discussing your—"
"Thank you, Kang-joon," Namjoon interrupted, his tone suggesting a mixture of gratitude and an underlying tension. "I can take it from here."
The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken words. You looked at him, wanting to scream, wanting to run, wanting to demand answers.
"Did you sleep well?" Namjoon asked, his voice softer now, as if he was trying to breach the walls that had begun to rise between you.
You nursed your coffee in the black ceramic mug while you shrugged, keeping the answer with spice in it for yourself just yet. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, you could see the cracks in his façade when you didn't answer.
"I see... silent treatment," he gulped down, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. Pouring himself a cup of coffee too, he leaned on the counter right in front of you. You took his appearance in. He got a buzz cut, creamy satin shirt tucked in leather pants. A few of the buttons were undone, giving you a perfect view of his toned chest.
"Is that really how you want to start the day?" he provoked. You set the mug down, the clink of ceramic against marble echoing in the tension-filled kitchen.
"Did you ask yourself the same question when you threatened me?" you shot back, your voice rising slightly as the memories flooded back. The anger surged within you, igniting a fire that had been smoldering since the moment you woke up in his penthouse.
Namjoon's expression shifted, the warmth in his eyes replaced by a flicker of defensiveness.
"Well, you for some reason seemed too adamant that you needed to patrol the streets of Bronx by running away from me. I know you too damn well, Peaches; I know where you were headed."
The words stung, each syllable laced with accusation and an unsettling truth. Your heart raced, the anger bubbling just below the surface.
"You know fucking shit, Namjoon—"
"Oppa," he jumped in, his voice firm, yet tinged with a note of caution.
You inhaled sharply, the familiar term slicing through the tension like a knife. It reminded you of the intimate moments you once shared. "You've lost that honorific the moment you decided to threaten me and kill that man right in front of my eyes!"
Namjoon's jaw clenched, and you could see the conflict brewing beneath his composed exterior.
"You don't understand the kind of world I'm in. We protect ours."
"Protect?" you spat, feeling the heat of betrayal wash over you.
"I'm a person who deserves to make her own choices—" He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing.
"What choices are you making? Running off into the night like it's some kind of adventure? You think that's brave? I refuse to let you get hurt because you're unhappy with my decisions."
"Oh yeah, like something would happen to me—"
"You are my woman, and people know that you are, Peaches!" he declared, his voice rising with intensity, as if the weight of his words was meant to command respect from the universe itself.
Your heart raced at his proclamation, a mix of anger and something softer twisting in your gut.
"The fuck you're talking about, Namjoon?" You snapped, your voice echoing off the sleek kitchen walls. Anger surged within you, fueled by the sheer audacity of his claim.
"Not fucking once did you say that we ought to be official one day—" you shot back, your voice dripping with disbelief.
"You act like I'm some sort of possession, something you can just claim without any conversation or commitment!" Namjoon's expression hardened, a flicker of frustration flashing in his eyes.
"You need to stop pretending like we don't have a future because you're scared of the past," he said, smashing the mug down on the counter. Namjoon's jaw tightened, and the conflict in his eyes was palpable.
"Since I was seventeen, not fucking once have you made your intentions strictly clear, Namjoon! The fuck am I doing here then?!" The words burst from your lips, raw and unfiltered, echoing in the tense space between you.
He ran a hand over his face, visibly struggling to keep his composure.
"I thought you knew. I thought you felt it too," he replied, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I thought it was understood that it was a matter of time."
"Understood?" you scoffed, incredulity seeping into your tone. "You think that just because you've made me a part of your life, I should automatically know my place? That's not how it works!"
"I was waiting till you turned twenty-one—"
"Age of consent is eighteen in this state, Namjoon, keep that bullshit to yourself." Namjoon's expression darkened at your words, and you could see the frustration simmering beneath the surface.
"So you would rather have me taking you as wife and putting a baby into you the moment you turned eighteen, am I right?"
The air crackled with tension as Namjoon's words hung in the space between you, a provocation that sent shockwaves through your body. You felt your breath hitch, a mixture of shock and anger coursing through you.
"So that's the plan now?" you lowered your voice.
His expression softened for a moment, and you could see the conflict etched across his features. "I thought you'd want that kind of future with me, Peaches. I thought we were on the same page from day one."
Despite Namjoon's willingness to talk, the remnants of fear and frustration churned within you, threatening to spill over. You took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. Your heart raced, the urge to flee growing stronger. He reached out, grabbing your wrist gently but firmly.
"I love you, baby."
Your heart pounded in your chest at his words, a tumultuous blend of emotions crashing over you. You stood up from the stool you were sitting at, calmly aiming for the door. You didn't know what you were doing with this lame attempt to flee.
"Hey—" he shouted, but you did not stop. You could feel Namjoon's gaze burning into your back as you moved toward the door, his loud steps right behind you making you speed up the process.
You couldn't stop. The need to escape overwhelmed you, propelling you forward. You flung the door open, the sharp sound echoing in the silence that followed.
"Peaches!" he shouted again, his voice rising with urgency and desperation. The door rattled on its hinges as he leaned against it, trying to process what had just happened.
"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He knew he had pushed too hard, but he couldn't help it.
You trembled under him, still facing the door while his arm was outstretched, palms on the door, blocking you from opening it again. Your breath quickened as you stood there, the cool metal of the doorknob biting into your palm. You could feel Namjoon's presence behind you.
"Let me go, Namjoon," you demanded, your voice steady but wavering just slightly. The pounding of your heart felt like a war drum, urging you to flee, to escape this suffocating moment.
"You would come back to me nonetheless." You turned around to face him, your expression a blend of defiance and vulnerability.
"What makes you think I would?" you shot back, turning slightly to glance over your shoulder at him. The intensity in his eyes made your pulse quicken, a mixture of anger and confusion swirling within you.
"Because you love me back—" He leaned down, not giving you time to argue, and seized the chance to crash his lips down on yours for the first time.
His hands grabbed onto your hips, pulling you closer, the heat from his body seeping into yours. Your heart raced, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as his tongue danced with yours in a heated embrace.
Namjoon's fingers dug into your skin, his grip firm yet tender, as if he was trying to brand you as his own. The kiss was raw, primal, and all-consuming, leaving you both breathless and wanting more.
Namjoon's eyes locked onto yours, the fire within them burning brighter than ever before. With a low growl, he pulled you close again, his lips crashing down on yours once more as the world around you continued to spin.
As the kiss broke, Namjoon pulled away, his eyes burning with intensity.
"I'm not done being angry," you said, your voice low but unwavering. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and it both thrilled and terrified you.
Namjoon's brow furrowed slightly, surprise mingling with the intensity in his gaze. "I know that," he replied, his tone shifting, becoming more serious.
"Good," you spoke right to his lips, your heart still racing from the kiss. The mix of confusion and desire swirled within you, and you struggled to keep your composure.
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The cognac brown couch was very comfortable, its soft cushions inviting you to sink in and relax. A glass coffee table with sleek chrome legs stood in front of it, its surface adorned with a stack of art books, a few scattered magazines, and a vintage crystal ashtray. So Namjoon.
A large, floor-to-ceiling window occupied one side of the room, offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline. A Persian rug, with intricate patterns in deep reds and blues, covered the polished hardwood floor, adding a touch of warmth and history to the contemporary space. Again, so Namjoon.
He was crouched down by the fireplace that dominated the place, his back to you. The fire cast a warm, flickering glow across the room, its light dancing over Namjoon's broad shoulders. He started the fire because he saw you shivering. But that had nothing to do with you being cold, and deep down he knew that too. He seemed lost in thought, his fingers idly tracing patterns on the floor as he stared into the flames.
You walked over to him, your footsteps silent on the plush rug. As you approached, Namjoon turned slightly, his eyes meeting yours. You sat down next to him.
"So, how do you imagine all this working?" you asked, your voice gentle yet tinged with the underlying frustration you felt.
Namjoon sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. "Just like it did till now."
You frowned slightly, shaking your head.
"So I'm gonna go back to working in Anubis and you are going to keep shooting everyone who gets closer to me?!" you said, a bit harsher than you intended. Namjoon's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration.
"You are not coming back to work in Anubis, let's start with that," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.
"My oh my, now you want to take the source of my income too." Namjoon shifted slightly, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes.
"You're my woman, Peaches. You don't need to work for money anymore," he started, his voice steady and filled with conviction.
You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "You can't be serious."
"Women in our clan don't work for decades, my woman is not gonna work either. At least not like that—" You narrowed your eyes, feeling a mixture of disbelief and intrigue at his declaration.
"That's not who I am, Namjoon." He leaned in closer, the firelight casting a warm glow over his chiseled features.
"Baby, I'm not asking you. I'm offering you the life you always deserved." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face.
"I've always been able to take care of myself."
“So now let me take care of you, sweetling.”
Your mind raced as you considered his words. The allure of a life without the constant threat of violence, without the stress of making ends meet, was tempting. But was it worth giving up your autonomy?
“You can still pursue your passions. I’m not taking that away from you,—” Namjoon paused, his expression softening.
“But no Anubis,” he took your hands into his.
“What do you want?” You asked quietly. He held your gaze, the firelight flickering across his face, illuminating the resolve etched in his features.
“I think I made my intentions strictly clear today.” He chuckled and exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin.
“I’m not just talking about safety and comfort, Peaches. I’m talking about us. About building a life together.”
You searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity, but all you found was determination.
“You want me to be your… what, exactly?” You knew, you just still didn’t want to believe it.
Namjoon leaned back slightly, still holding your hands, his thumb brushing against your skin in a soothing rhythm. “I want you to be mine—”
“Mind and body, heart and soul.” Namjoon's voice was low and earnest, each word weighted with sincerity.
You swallowed hard, trying to process the depth of what he was asking. “You mean… you want me to commit completely? To be yours in every sense?”
“And I’ll be yours.” He nodded, his eyes unwavering, filled with a mixture of affection and intensity. You felt a rush of emotions—a blend of excitement and fear.
“I can give you a life where you don’t have to look over your shoulder, where you can focus on what truly matters to you—your dreams, your passions, us.”
The promise of safety and love hung heavy in the air between you, and while the thought was tempting, a part of you still clung to your independence. It would be nice not to work long night hours in a bar full of drunk people to make ends meet. Not walking home with keys in your hand in case someone would jump you over or worse. Not living in a small old rusty apartment with your father who barely brought any income home.
The fire crackled softly, and you could feel the warmth radiating from it, mirroring the warmth blooming in your chest.
“I need time.” Namjoon’s expression shifted, his jaw tightening slightly as he processed your words. But he didn’t let go of your hands. Instead, he brought them to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, his gaze unwavering.
“Time,” he echoed, the word almost foreign as it left his mouth. “You already had plenty of time.” The firelight cast shadows across his face, emphasizing the intensity etched into every line.
“You think time will change how you feel? Or how much I want you?” You felt a tremor run through you at the weight of his words. It was suffocating and yet strangely comforting, like a trap laced with silk, binding you softly but securely.
“No, Namjoon, I’m just—” Namjoon’s fingers brushed along your jawline, tipping your face up so that you met his gaze directly.
“I get that this must be overwhelming for you, but the time you are asking for is already up and done—”
“I didn’t know it was ticking,” you began, voice barely more than a whisper. Namjoon tilted his head, studying you, his lips quirking into a small, almost understanding smile.
“No more hidden exits, no more plans to escape. I want you here, with me, committed… without looking for a way out. And in return, I’ll take care of you and your father. That’s my promise to you.”
The warmth in his eyes almost made you believe that he meant well, that beneath the possessive intensity was a genuine desire to protect and love. Yet a lingering voice inside you warned that this love would be an all-consuming fire—one that would consume every part of you until there was nothing left to call your own.
Your mind was racing for the answer. If you say yes, you may as well forget who you were, but perhaps you will find yourself where you always wanted to be. Someone. But what if you say no?
“What if I won’t agree, Namjoon?” You asked, scared for the answer. Namjoon’s gaze darkened, the softness slipping away as his grip tightened just enough for you to feel the control he had over the situation. He leaned in, his lips grazing your ear, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Peaches, let's not pretend that you really have a choice here." His tone was calm, as if explaining something simple, obvious, like the inevitability of night following day.
"Your father," he began slowly, each word dripping with calculated weight, "he's in no position to take care of himself, is he? Without you, what would he do? You've been carrying his burden for years, haven't you? Always working to support him, protecting him, making sure he's safe…"
His voice lowered, softening almost to a whisper, but it was filled with a quiet menace. "But if you refuse me… well, who do you think is going to keep him safe then?"
You felt your heart hammer in your chest, dread creeping into every corner of your mind as you took in his words. This was the second time he was threatening your father.
"What is wrong with you?" You said coldly, staring daggers at his pretty face.
"What's wrong with me?" he echoed, voice laced with a faint, mocking laugh. "I'm doing what needs to be done, Peaches. I'm making sure you understand the lengths I'm willing to go to keep you by my side. You think I'd just stand by and watch you slip away? Again?"
He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch featherlight but loaded with a silent threat. "I know you love your father," he murmured, voice a dangerous purr. "And that's why I'm reminding you of what's at stake."
You felt anger and fear twist inside you. He let his hand fall, watching your reaction with unsettling calmness, as if daring you to resist. Namjoon had you cornered, and he knew it. Every ounce of control you'd thought you held slipped further from your grasp, his quiet threats carving invisible chains around you.
"Why would you put me in this position?" He sighed, his lips curving into a faint, almost pitying smile as he tilted his head, studying you.
"Because I've been loving you for years, and when I can finally have you, you are trying toplay feminist."
The words hit you like a slap, raw and stinging. You swallowed, unable to look away from the intensity in his eyes. That faint smile on his lips held no warmth; it was twisted with something darker, something possessive.
"Play feminist?" you echoed, your voice wavering with anger and disbelief. "Namjoon, wanting to make my own choices doesn't mean I'm defying you or 'playing' anything. It means I'm a person, with my own will—"
He cut you off, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he shook his head slowly, almost as if you'd amused him.
“Peaches, you still don’t understand, do you? I’m offering you a world where you’re safe, where you don’t have to fight every day to survive. You’d rather keep struggling, keep pretending you’re content living in that cramped one bedroom apartment while your father brings home beer money when you are fighting off every hardship, and here I am, ready to give you the life you deserve.”
His fingers gripped your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze as he leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper but laced with conviction.
“You think you want freedom, independence. But freedom isn’t safe, Peaches. Freedom won’t love you like I do. It won’t sacrifice or protect. It won’t give you everything at the cost of its own soul.”
He released you, letting his hand fall away, his gaze darkening. “This isn’t some game, and it isn’t about principles. It’s about us. And if that means you have to surrender some of that so-called independence, then so be it. I know what’s best for you, Peaches. You just need to stop fighting and see that.”
Namjoon’s gaze shifted to something darker, more resolute, as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. The firelight glinted off the soft pink morganite stone, antique piece that must have been in his kin for decades, its delicate beauty a stark contrast to the intensity in his eyes. He held it up, his jaw set, the unspoken command clear in the way he presented it to you.
“Peaches,” he murmured, his voice dangerously calm, “will you marry me?”
Before you could even think to pull away, he took your hand firmly, holding it in place as he slid the ring onto your finger. It was cold against your skin, the weight of it foreign and heavy.
“Say yes.” His voice was low, steady, a dangerous edge lurking beneath the calm exterior. His eyes bore into yours, unwavering, challenging you to defy him. “Say it, Peaches. Agree to be mine, completely, or I’ll make sure you lose everything you’ve been holding onto.”
You felt trapped, his hand tightening around yours as if to remind you of his control over the situation. Your heart raced, your throat dry, as the words hovered on the edge of your lips, unable to escape. But he didn’t let go, his fingers pressing into your skin with an unyielding determination.
“Say it,” he repeated, his voice firmer this time, the softness slipping into something harder, more commanding.
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, a feeling of resignation sinking deep into your chest as you stared at the ring, its delicate beauty now a symbol of your surrender.
“Yes,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips.
A smile spread across Namjoon’s face, slow and triumphant, as he released your hand, the weight of the ring now settling fully onto your finger. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had slipped free, his touch gentle yet possessive.
“There,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with satisfaction.
“That’s my good girl.”
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"Where's my bag?" you start sharply the moment Namjoon walks in, shrugging off the coat from his so-called 'business meeting.' You were obviously not allowed to sit in because women here do not work once they have a ring on their finger. Not like you are dying to be a part of a criminal syndicate that has its roots deeply set in this society. The air between you two is thick, a palpable tension that crackles like static before a storm.
"I looked everywhere, but I cannot seem to find it—"
Successful distilleries may be carrying the Jung name, yet other family members have their own shares of the money capital of the clan, Namjoon not being an exception. His name is presented on each brandy bottle you have had the chance to pour from. But what actually lies under the façade of crystal-clear bottles of whiskey and brandy remains unknown to the upper world.
When you met Namjoon, you didn't see a crime lord. You saw a man with ambition, with a drive that matched yours. But somewhere along the line, his ambition became chains around your wrists, tying you to a life you never chose. That's when you decided that working in Anubis would be only a "college" solution before you would leave the city.
He raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of surprise and annoyance. "What bag?"
"You know exactly which bag," you snap, stepping closer. Namjoon's eyes darken, his jaw tightening.
"How about we start on lunch?" he suggests, trying to ignore your pleas.
"No," you insist, voice trembling with anger. "I want my bag. I want my money."
"I thought we had settled this last night, didn't we?" he says, his voice low and dangerous.
Your blood boils at his dismissive tone. "Settled? You think you can just placate me and everything will be fine? That money is mine, Namjoon. I earned it."
He steps closer, his presence intimidating but you hold your ground. "Peaches, you ought to be my wife, what's mine is yours. You don't need that money."
You stand firm, not backing down. "Need it or not, it's mine. I worked for it, Namjoon."
Namjoon's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint in them. "You think you can just walk out with that money? You think you can use it to just leave?"
"No, I—" Namjoon steps forward, his eyes cold and calculating. You feel a surge of anger, your hands clenching into fists. "I earned that money, and I deserve to use it as I see fit."
"If you want to spend money, we can go shopping—" His presence overwhelming and oppressive. His words angering you even more.
"SHOPPING?! Are you fucking serious? This isn't about buying things, Namjoon. This is about my life, my choices."
Before you can continue your rambling, he grabs your wrist and pulls you close, his grip like iron. His lips crash onto yours in a bruising, dominating kiss, meant to remind you of his power over you. You struggle, but his hold is unyielding, leaving you breathless and dizzy.
"If you're gonna drop that honorific one more time—" Namjoon's eyes blaze with fury as he keeps you close, his grip almost painful.
"I won't—" you spit out, defiance still burning in your eyes despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "If you give me my money back. I have a right to it." Namjoon laughs coldly, shaking his head.
"Let's just have lunch, Peaches, before I lose my patience completely—" he says, his voice dripping with condescension. You glare at him, refusing to back down.
"Not until you give me my money back." His expression hardens, the cold amusement vanishing.
"You really want to push this, don't you?"
"Yes," you say, your voice unwavering. "Favor for favor, isn't it the mantra y'all go by?" A smirk playing on his lips when you finish the sentence.
"Everything you need, I provide." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.
"I worked for that money, Namjoon. I deserve to have control over it."
He steps closer again, his eyes dancing with amusement as he looks down at you. "Control? You want control? Fine," he says, his voice dripping with condescension.
"I've deposited them into an account I opened in your name, joint with mine, naturally," he says, his words carrying that same cool, possessive edge.
"What?" you gasp, your disbelief palpable. "You what?"
"I will give you your black card," he repeats, his lips curling into a taunting smile "—once you prove not to be a flight risk, baby." Namjoon tilts his head, the smirk never fading. This, in essence, means that every single transaction will be noticed. You will withdraw the money from the card—he will know. You will attempt to transfer them to a different account? He will fucking know. The implications hitting you like a gut punch. Your blood runs cold as his words sink in.
"I'm not stupid, Peaches. I know that we gotta work on our relationship." He steps even closer, his gaze intense, pinning you in place. "Let's work on that trust first, and then you can have money at your disposal."
Your heart beats in your throat, the frustration boiling beneath the surface. Trust? The word feels like a cruel joke coming from him.Trust?
"I'm not one of your assets, Namjoon," you spit out, your voice thick with defiance. "And I won't be treated like one." His towering form casting a shadow over you, and for a moment, his eyes soften, as if he's pitying you.
"You don't have a choice, baby." His tone shifts again, dripping with that same chilling calm.
"When you prove you can stay and play nice, then maybe, just maybe, I'll let you have some freedom with your own damn money." And just like that, he's already begun dictating the terms of your life again, his grip on you tighter than ever before.
The missing duffle bag with your money was among the least of your worries when you realized what else the duffle bag possessed.
"You have my passport, Namjoon, how can I run away?" Namjoon's eyes flicker, the amusement fading slightly, but his smirk doesn't falter. He's been expecting this—he always expects everything.
Namjoon's smile is slow, deliberate, almost cruel. "I've taken what I need to keep you close." Namjoon leans in, his breath warm against your ear, his voice low and dangerous.
"But I am not underestimating your spirit."
You're nauseous, the implication of his words settling over you like a weight you can't shake off. He is holding the strings to everything, but that only made you realize that you had a hell of a lot of thinking and plotting to do to get out of here. And the most intrusive thought back in your head, where you consider staying here and embracing this finally official relationship, has to go—quickly.
"So, what now?" you ask, voice trembling despite your best effort to keep it steady. "You plan on keeping me locked up forever, Namjoon-oppa?" Namjoon only smiles, cold and confident.
"No baby. But I will keep you very close, until I can trust you." Your skin prickles where his fingers brush, but you don't pull away. You can't. The need to stay composed, to not give him the satisfaction of seeing you break, fights against the rising tide of rage and fear in your chest.
"And what do you want me to do to earn it, Namjoon?" you ask, your voice steady despite the turmoil roiling inside you. "Beg? Crawl? Pretend everything is fine when it's not?" He tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he's piecing together in real time. The silence that follows is thick with tension. He stands so close now that you can feel the heat of his body against yours.
"So, lunch it is then?"
His tone is mockingly light, but there's a sharp edge beneath it when he tries to abandon the conversation, the kind that makes you feel trapped.
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The black Mercedes hums smoothly along the Bronx streets, its sleek exterior reflecting the gray clouds above. It's going to snow any day now. Inside, the air is thick with tension, an unspoken understanding between the two passengers.
You sit in the backseat, your fingers nervously gripping the edge of your dress, the smooth fabric barely registering under your touch. Your sunglasses hide the unease in your eyes, but the tightness in your chest is something you can't disguise.
Today feels different.
Namjoon sits beside you in the backseat, his gaze fixed ahead, while his hand is warm on your thigh. You are staring at your shoes. Isn't this what you wanted? To ride in an expensive car, wearing Saint Laurent pointy-toed heels? A form-fitting dress with a high neck reveals your figure subtly, and the hungry look Namjoon gave you when you stepped out of the wardrobe did not go unnoticed. Something feels different, as if you're playing dress-up. The allure of the life Namjoon offers, it all feels strangely distant.
You eye him carefully—his black turtleneck is tailored to fit perfectly, sleek and minimalistic. Over it, a black suit jacket, structured but not overly stiff, gives him a commanding presence. His black slacks match the simplicity and power of his look, polished and clean.
The cold air bites against your skin, and you instinctively pull your coat tighter around your shoulders, trying to shield yourself from the chill that seems to creep through the thin fabric of your dress.
"Thank you for letting me see my father," you whisper, your voice barely audible, yet heavy with meaning.
"You don't have to thank me—" he says quietly, his voice low, almost intimate. His gaze doesn't soften, but there's something in the way he stands, commanding yet calm, that makes your heart race. The chill of the early morning seems to deepen, pressing in on you, yet you're acutely aware of the warmth of his presence, the heat of his body just a little too close.
"I couldn't have kept you from seeing him," Namjoon continues, his tone flat, as if he's simply stating a fact.
"But keep in mind that this is a privilege—you misbehave, you won't see him." His eyes lock with yours, not with malice, but with a cold certainty that makes your heart flutter uncomfortably in your chest. The last thing you want now is to provoke him further, to find out just how far his power reaches.
"Engaged?!" disbelief and shock etched into the features of your father when you sat down at the kitchen table after you collected some of the things you wished to take with you. You nod, your heart racing.
"Yes, Dad. It just happened. I wanted you to know first." Your father's gaze shifts to Namjoon, his face a storm of emotions—anger, disbelief, worry.
"Peaches, do you know what you're doing? This man is nearly a decade older than you," he whispers your way, his voice trembling with concern.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I know, Dad. It's a lot to take in, but Namjoon and I—we're serious about this." You never knew how good you were at lying until today. Your father's eyes narrow, his gaze flicking between you and Namjoon.
"When did this relationship even happen? Is he holding you against your will?!" he demands, his tone a mix of frustration and disbelief. Your smile freezes for a moment, and you try your best not to give yourself away.
"No, Dad, that happens only in movies," you reply, attempting a light-hearted tone to deflect his suspicion. Maybe this is what Namjoon meant by earning trust.
Your father's gaze remains hard, but he doesn't push further. Instead, he turns to Namjoon, his voice cold and edged with protectiveness. "You better take care of her, Namjoon. If anything happens to her, I won't forgive you."
Namjoon smiles proudly at you, almost missing your father's harsh words. His confidence in you seems unshaken.
"You have my word," he replies simply, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, staring at the shiny peachy morganite.
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You were never religious enough to step foot in a church after you were christened as a baby. Your parents were indifferent to faith, more focused on the struggles of daily life than spiritual obligations. But your now husband-to-be came from very religious kin, and he himself was a God's worshipper. Ironic enough when he managed to break the Ten Commandments before sipping his morning coffee.
His family, deeply rooted in tradition and devout faith, expected nothing less than a grand celebration steeped in religious customs. The thought of walking down an aisle, flanked by stained glass and the scent of incense, felt foreign and overwhelming.
The morning sun poured into the grand church, illuminating the ornate stained glass that depicted scenes of devotion and reverence. As you and Namjoon stepped through the heavy wooden doors, a wave of warmth enveloped you, mingling with the scent of polished wood and candle wax. It felt like stepping into another world, one where faith and family intertwined seamlessly.
You could see familiar faces sitting on the wooden benches. Kim Taehyung smirking your way when he glanced at your hand interlocked with Namjoon's. He was sitting next to Mr. Jung, whom you recognized by his mullet, and the next seat was occupied by the one and only Mrs. Jung, whom you hadn't seen for a good amount of time. There were also some faces that you did not recognize, yet they still felt familiar to you. You couldn't help but notice the way the Kims and Jungs interacted, the warmth of their bonds evident in the way they smiled, laughed, and shared stories during the prayers. Their camaraderie was infectious, and for a fleeting moment, you found yourself longing for that sense of belonging.
As the service began, the congregation settled into a peaceful quiet, the sounds of rustling papers and shifting bodies fading into the background. The priest took his place at the altar, his voice echoing through the high ceilings as he began to speak about love, commitment, and the sacred bonds of marriage. Each word resonated deeply within you, pulling at your heartstrings as you thought of your impending union. As it was explained to you, this Mass was held as the announcement of your engagement—one of many traditions they had.
Namjoon sat beside you, his presence a constant reminder of the promise you had made. You could feel his gaze on you, intense and unwavering, as if he were silently urging you to embrace this new chapter of your life. But the weight of that ring on your finger felt heavier than ever in this moment.
"Love is not merely a feeling; it's a choice," the priest's voice boomed, and you glanced at Namjoon, catching the flicker of expectation in his eyes. "It's a daily commitment to one another, a promise to uphold each other through trials and triumphs alike."
You shifted in your seat, feeling the heat of his gaze on you like a physical presence. You wondered if love really was a choice—or if, in your case, it was a bargain made under duress. Namjoon's grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, a subtle reminder of the hold he had over your life.
This was the first time he took you out of the penthouse since the day you woke up in his bed for the first time. He simply did not trust you enough to go out in public with you just yet. Hence, his hand remained on yours in a very obsessive manner, as if you were to fly away at any moment.
The priest continued, "Marriage is a sacred bond, one that should be approached with reverence and care. It's not merely about sharing a life together but about supporting and uplifting one another, about being the anchor when the storms come." He paused, letting his words sink in.
Your mind wandered back to your father, the struggles he faced, and how Namjoon had used that vulnerability to secure your loyalty. The contrast between the priest's idealistic views on love and your reality felt stark. How could you ever find true happiness in a union that felt more like a transaction than a partnership? You were feeling heavy.
"And today," the priest announced, raising his voice slightly to draw everyone's attention, "we gather not only to worship but to celebrate the union of two souls destined to walk together."
Your breath caught in your throat, and a mix of emotions surged through you. Murmurs of congratulations rippled through the congregation, and you felt the weight of countless eyes on you, some filled with excitement, others with curiosity. Namjoon's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes gleaming with pride.
You could feel your cheeks flush as the reality of your situation sank in deeper. The ring on your finger felt like a shackle, the promises made a binding contract that left little room for your own desires.
"I—" you started, but the words felt stuck in your throat. "I need to go to the restroom, Namjoon."
His expression shifted, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Now?" he asked, voice low enough that only you could hear, but firm enough to convey his displeasure. "We're in the middle of the service."
Namjoon hesitated, weighing your request against the backdrop of the ceremony. Finally, he released your hand but leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Make it quick, baby."
You nodded, grateful for the small bit of freedom. Your Louboutin heels clicked against the marble floor, each step echoing like a drumbeat in the otherwise quiet sanctuary. The sound felt amplified in your ears, a reminder of the attention you were drawing as you navigated through the rows of wooden pews. You could feel the weight of curious gazes following you, some filled with anticipation, others with judgment. It was as if the congregation sensed the tension between you and Namjoon, the unspoken power dynamics playing out in real time.
You pushed open the restroom door and stepped inside. The fluorescent lights cast a stark glare, highlighting the contrast between the serenity of the service and the storm swirling within you.
Leaning against the sink, you took a moment to catch your breath. The reflection staring back at you was a mixture of uncertainty and defiance, a girl caught between two worlds.
"Why am I still here?" you whispered to your reflection, the question echoing back at you. You thought of the life you had envisioned for yourself, one filled with love, laughter, and independence, not one governed by fear and obligation.
"I fucked up." After a few deep breaths, you steadied yourself. You needed to return before he would throw a tantrum, as he loved to do whenever you were away from him for longer than ten minutes. Paranoid bastard. You glanced at your watch and noted that only a few minutes had passed. With a resigned sigh, you turned to leave, determination flooding your veins.
As you exited the restroom, you found Namjoon leaning against the wall outside, arms crossed and an expression that mixed concern and annoyance. His posture was protective, yet the underlying tension in his demeanor sent a shiver down your spine. He pushed himself from the wall only to walk towards you, making you take a few steps back into the restroom. His eyes never left yours even when he closed the door and locked it from inside, the sound echoing ominously in the small space.
The reality of your situation pressed down on you, an oppressive weight that made it hard to breathe. He moved closer, his eyes dark and intent.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he replied when you asked him why he wasn't upstairs, his tone both soothing and authoritative.
"You know how important this day is, right? I can't have you slipping away from me."
You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure. "I'm fine. I just needed a moment," you insisted, but the way he watched you made it clear he wasn't convinced.
"You can be honest, Peaches," he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone. "You're in a room full of people celebrating our engagement, and yet you're out here trying to escape."
His words struck a nerve, and you crossed your arms defensively. "I'm not trying to escape," you shot back, though the lie tasted bitter on your tongue.
"Okay," he said calmly, staring intensely into your eyes, as if he was trying to read you. A small smirk played at the corners of his lips, but the tension in the air remained thick. You did not expect him to drop the topic that quickly.
"I just needed to collect my thoughts," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Okay," he murmured again. He stepped closer, closing the distance between you even more, his body radiating warmth that both comforted and unsettled you. He was standing there, inches away from you, yet he was not taking any action.
"W-why are you so calm, what are you doing, Namjoon?" you asked, trying to grasp his demeanor which you yet again did not understand.
"Waiting—"
"Can we just go back to the ceremony?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. Namjoon's smirk widened, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear.
"Not yet, my love," he whispered back, his voice low and husky. Namjoon's fingers traced the curve of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "I longed to show you just who you belong to for years."
"You're fucking stunning, Peaches," he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. Namjoon's fingers trailed down your chest, stopping just above your breasts. You felt a jolt of electricity run through your body, and you knew that you were in trouble.
"Namjoon," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "We can't do this here, we're in a church." You tried to push him away.
"You are something I can sin for," he whispered back, his voice low and seductive. You tried to pull away, but Namjoon held you firm, his grip unyielding.
"Namjoon, please," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire and apprehension.
But Namjoon was relentless, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that left you quivering with pleasure. "You're mine, Peaches," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.
"And I'll do whatever it takes to keep it that way."
Namjoon's lips found yours, and he kissed you with a passion that left you breathless. His tongue danced with yours, and you felt your body respond to his every touch. As you kissed, Namjoon's hand slid between your legs, and he began to caress you through your dress. You gasped softly, your body arching into his touch, trembling with the sudden pleasure.
"Namjoon," you whispered urgently, "we have to stop." Your breath hitched as he pressed you against the mirror after he lifted you onto the counter, plunging himself between your legs.
"No, we don't," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Not until I've claimed you as mine."
The church's silence seemed to amplify the intensity of the moment, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge of a cliff. His fingers traced the contours of your body, exploring every curve and crevice.
"What if someone hears?" you breathed again, desperation lacing your voice.
His lips paused just above your collarbone, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. As if the universe was playing by his rules, the choir started to sing. He chuckled.
"You're mine, Peaches. I won't let anyone take you away from me—not today, not ever." He captured your lips again, his kiss deepening with a fervor that ignited every nerve ending in your body.
His hands were exploring the curves of your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress higher as he pressed you firmly against the cold surface of the counter.
"Namjoon," you breathed, a mix of excitement and fear knotting in your stomach. "We can't…" you continued your protests.
"But we will." His fingers danced dangerously close to your most sensitive spots, teasing you with the promise of pleasure. You felt your resolve begin to crumble under his touch.
"I've waited too long for this," he murmured, voice a velvet whisper that wrapped around you like a lover's embrace.
"Namjoon," you gasped against his lips, torn between the heady rush of desire and the urgent need to pull back. But with each kiss, each exploration of his hands, your inhibitions began to melt away, surrendering to the intoxicating pull he had over you.
"Just let go," he urged, a soft growl escaping his lips as he pressed his body into yours, making you acutely aware of the hard length that pressed against your core.
"Trust me."
A wild, reckless part of you craved this intimacy, this connection that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. Your mind took you back to all those moments you shared that made your heart flutter and belly tight when you did not know why he made you feel that way.
You hesitated for a heartbeat, the weight of your reality pressing heavily on your conscience. His fingers found their way beneath your dress, inching higher until they brushed against your most sensitive skin. You gasped, arching your back involuntarily as pleasure surged through you, igniting a fire in your belly.
"Namjoon!" you cried out, a mixture of pleasure and panic lacing your voice.
"Shh, baby," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck as he continued his teasing exploration. With a deft motion, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down your legs and tossing them aside as if they were nothing more than an afterthought. The cool air kissed your exposed skin, heightening your senses and making your breath hitch in your throat.
The air in the restroom felt thick with anticipation, each breath you took mingling with the scent of sandalwood and the faint musk of his skin.
“You’re breath-taking,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with desire.
His fingertips traced closer to where you needed him most, teasing you with the lightest of touches. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan that threatened to escape, the heat pooling deep within you almost overwhelming.
“Namjoon…” you whispered, half warning, half plea, torn between your desire for him and the reality of your surroundings.
“—and so wet for me.” He breathed against your skin, his breath sending sparks dancing along your nerves. His tongue danced with yours, a heated exploration that deepened your need for him. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you and the intoxicating chemistry that crackled between your bodies.
His fingers pressed against you, expertly coaxing soft moans from your lips as he slid one finger inside, filling you completely. You bit down on your lip to stifle your cries, but the pleasure was overwhelming, radiating out from the point of contact and pooling low in your stomach.
His eyes sparkled with a predatory intensity, relishing in your reaction. He watched you as if he were savouring a fine wine, taking his time to appreciate every detail of your response.
“Namjoon,” you gasped, your voice a fragile whisper, barely able to maintain any semblance of restraint.
“Oppa.” He growled. The way he said it—deep, possessive—made your heart race faster, each beat echoing in the stillness of the restroom. Namjoon’s fingers moved with a deliberate rhythm, curling inside you in a way that sent your mind spiralling.
“Tell me how good it feels,” he commanded, his tone a mix of sultry and demanding, eyes never leaving yours as he watched you unravel under his touch.
You hesitated for a moment, your breath coming in quick gasps as pleasure washed over you. “It feels… amazing,” you managed to whisper, the confession slipping past your lips like a sweet secret. You can regret this later.
“Good,” he murmured, the smirk on his face growing wider. “I want to hear every sound you make.”
His fingers moved faster, building the tension to a near unbearable level, each thrust sending you closer to the brink. The world around you faded completely, leaving just the two of you entwined in this stolen moment of passion, lost in the depths of one another.
“Namjoon. I can’t—” his hand smacked your ass and he deliberately slowed down.
“It’s oppa for you. Don’t make me repeat it again.”
The playful sting of his hand against your skin sent a rush of warmth coursing through you, mingling with the heat pooling low in your belly. His voice was firm, but beneath that authority was a hint of something deeper—a promise that ignited a wild excitement within you.
“Oppa,” you whispered breathlessly, the word slipping from your lips like a spell meant just for him.
He smiled, satisfied, and resumed his movements, fingers working expertly inside you again. The pressure built anew, the delightful tension sending electric shocks through your body.
“Good girl,” he praised, his breath hot against your ear. “I want to hear you, Peaches. Let me know how much you need me.”
With that, he quickened his pace, thrusting his fingers deeper, curling them just right. The overwhelming pleasure began to blur the edges of your consciousness, leaving only the sensations that centred on where he was buried within you. The heat intensified, building towards a sweet, dizzying peak, and you couldn’t help but surrender to it.
With a final flick of his fingers, he found that sweet spot inside you, driving you wild. Your body responded in kind, the sensations intertwining with your every thought. You could feel the tightening in your core, the unmistakable signal that you were teetering on the edge of bliss.
“Namjoon-oppa, I—” you gasped, words failing you as the pleasure escalated.
“Shh, just let it happen,” he murmured, his voice deep and soothing, anchoring you in the moment. His lips met yours in a heated kiss, swallowing your cries as the waves of ecstasy crashed over you.
"Oppa!" you cried against his mouth, unable to contain the raw need bursting forth from within. Your body trembled, the climax washing over you in a torrent of sensations, enveloping you completely as you surrendered to the bliss. The choir's distant hymns created an almost surreal backdrop to this heated encounter, mixing innocence with your burgeoning desire.
As the pleasure receded, leaving you breathless and dazed, Namjoon held you close, his arms encircling you like a protective cocoon. You leaned into him, heart racing and body tingling, reveling in the aftershocks of your release.
"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" he teased, his voice low and playful, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. "To be mine."
Your blurry eyes lifted to look at him, taking him in while you were still panting from the rollercoaster of emotions he made you feel. Flickering down to his bulge covered by the fabric of his black suit pants from Ralph Lauren, your breath hitched again. Enough for him to move his hands to his belt, being absolutely ready to take you. Finally free of his belt, he pulled down his zipper. The fabric of his pants fell open, revealing the outline of his desire, bold and unmistakable.
The urgency of the moment wrapped around you like a tight embrace, making it hard to think straight. You glanced around, the restroom feeling impossibly small, every sound amplified.
"Oppa, please…" you breathed, your heart racing as you tried to pull away, but the undeniable hunger in his gaze anchored you in place. You could see the determination etched on his face, the way his jaw tightened with lust. He had a plan, and it made your pulse quicken. You were not sure what you were begging for—to stop or to continue?
If not for the soft knock on the door, he would have taken you right there, on the church's restroom counter. It jolted you both, pulling you back to the reality of your surroundings. A rush of panic surged through you, and you instinctively glanced around the cramped restroom, your heart pounding in your chest.
"Oppa," you whispered again, this time a plea laced with desire and uncertainty.
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Just a little longer," he promised, his fingers finding their way back to your thighs, gripping you tightly as if to keep you anchored to the moment.
"Just one more time," he urged, his voice thick with need. "I need to feel you—"
"Hyung, I know you will kill me for this, but you need to come back upstairs." The voice—familiar and insistent—cut through the haze of desire that had enveloped you both.
Namjoon's expression flickered from lust to annoyance, his grip on you tightening slightly as if to remind you that this moment was still theirs, even if the world outside was intruding.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his frustration palpable. The intensity in his gaze shifted, but it didn't fade. Instead, it turned into something more predatory, a simmering heat that promised this wasn't over.
"We'll be right there!" He shouted back to the voice behind the door. His eyes slowly returned to watch you and your disheveled form after he fingered the fuck out of you.
He leaned in, his lips capturing yours once more, and it felt like time stood still. The world around you blurred, and for that moment, it was just the two of you—lost in a whirlwind of passion that defied the reality waiting outside the door.
His forehead remained pressed on yours when he whispered to your lips. “Next time, we won’t be so rushed, I promise.” Pecking your lips, he quickly pulled his pants back up, securing his belt with a swift motion, yet the heat of the moment lingered between you both.
The calm shattered in an instant.
The heavy church door burst open with a deafening crash. Armed men in tactical gear stormed in with raised weapons, their shouts filling the air. Namjoon immediately pushed you behind him, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene with deadly focus.
The thunderous crack of gunfire echoed off the stone walls as the air filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder. Namjoon drew a gun from beneath his jacket—like several other family men in attendance—his movements swift and practiced. He returned fire, the muzzle flash illuminating his determined face in bursts of light.
Your heart pounded in your chest like a drum of terror and adrenaline. Huddled behind an overturned pew, you clutched your ears against the deafening noise, eyes wide with shock and fear. Namjoon, breathing heavily, scanned the room one final time before turning to you, his eyes softening for a moment.
"Stay down!" he shouted, his voice barely audible above the chaos.
"Jungkook, get them out!" Namjoon barked, his eyes fixed on the fight.
He reached your side, pulling you up by the arm. Jungkook's grip was firm yet reassuring.
"Come on," he urged, his voice a steady anchor amid the storm of violence. He led you through the chaos, his body shielding you from the worst of the gunfire.
Just as you neared the side door, a sharp pain exploded in your side. You stumbled, a cry of agony escaping your lips. The world seemed to slow, the sounds of battle muffled by the roaring in your ears. Looking down, you saw blood spreading across your dress, the pain intensifying with each heartbeat.
"Peaches!"
.
.
.
.
.
𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝
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©pennyellee. please do not repost
tag list: @hecateslittlewitchling - @ratprincessnr1 - @originalbiscuitfiredreamer - @mggv97 - @urlovelily - @ilys00ga - @beautifulcloudfestival - @herareila @mar-lo-pap
Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥
see you next time, love, p.
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moonsaver · 24 days ago
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Falling asleep on them (their shoulder, mostly)
Title is as it says lol. A small apology for not having neither the seraphim sunday out sooner nor the yan alphabet.
– contains; Sunday, Aventurine, Dr ratio and Boothill (separately) x gn!reader.
No reader warnings bc its just fluff with a hint of angst if you squint
Sunday
Pre AE sunday: it's rare for both of you to have quiet, private and intimate moments long enough for either of you to really relax, but when it happens, you must've also been dead tired the way you didn't even realise you were asleep until your head softly landed on his shoulder.
I imagine Sunday would like sitting on a sofa with you and just do his work silently beside you, sorting through his documents in quiet peace when it happens. When it does, his hands freeze for a moment, stopping mid-turn of a page when he feels the warmth of you on his shoulder.
He'd gently set his work aside for a moment and simply relish the feeling. He's too busy to really be there for the most part, but he's still nonetheless grateful youve always been there for him, and he feels guiltier the more he stares at your sleeping form. It's this mix of overwhelming love and guilt that eats at him – he wonders if he's really as good of a partner to you and if you would consider getting with someone else besides him that could possibly give you more–
-Aaand the thoughts stop, when your head slightly slumps more.
He sighs, and leans his head on yours aswell, finding and interlocking his fingers with yours. He settles to relish the moment.
AE Sunday: basically the same, except he doesn't overthink nor is he working. But rather, he's in one of the trio's rooms in the corner leaning on the destroyed pillow fort which was done so to make space for the Monopoly game they were playing. He smiles when it happens, closing his book and gently setting it aside, settling more into the pillows and gets cozier. He'll play a bit with your hair, press a kiss to your forehead, and whisper sweet nothings to you – he talks about visiting new worlds, his feelings so far, how he feels so lucky to experience all of this with you. He tries to cover your ears so you don't wake up from the boisterous energy from the trio playing a few ways away. Maybe they also join you two and make it an impromptu cuddle session turned into a joint napping session.
——
Aventurine
A bit shocked when it happens, and originally thinks you're not actually asleep when it does, teasing you a bit. But quickly shuts up when you don't respond like your usual bantering self, and tenses a bit at your silence. He leans over carefully to see your sleeping face – and only then does he really accept you're asleep.
He stays tense for a moment. The moment is a bit too dangerously vulnerable for him — rather, the amount of trust you'd have in someone to sleep on them, is something he's a bit overwhelmed by thinking of.
If you stay asleep long enough he'll eventually relax, and realise how tense he was for a while when his shoulders pain a bit from it. He'll just stay silent for a moment, his eyes would be distant and his thoughts would be incoherent, but eventually they all settle down into silence when your soft breathing grounds him to the presence.
He sighs, followed by a very soft chuckle, before he presses a small kiss to the crown of your forehead, and wraps an arm around your shoulder.
——
Boothill
If the smell of gunpowder and rust and blood doesn't deter you from sleeping on him, and neither does his hard body, then you're in good hands!
His arm would probably be lazily draped over you from behind the couch, while he taps a bit on his phone, trying to mute some of the annoying notifications from a bounty or something when he feels you shift. Only you don't move away – but rather move towards him.
He looks slightly up from his phone and to his side, realising you've fallen asleep. He carefully shifts a bit, pockets his phone, and adjusts your head so you're sleeping on the "softer" parts – like the scarf around his neck or his top, making sure you're not pressing up against any hard bodied, sharp parts on him. Maybe even takes his hat off and places it so that it blocks the light from your eyes.
After that's done, he smiles smugly, before picking up his phone again and switching to the camera.
If you've made it this far being asleep, I hope you can survive the flashbang of his phone as boothill curses his device to hell and back, forgotten to have switched off the flashlight.
——
Dr. Ratio
At first, he quirks an eyebrow when you lean your head on him, but it doesn't take long to figure out you've fallen asleep.
He's still– well, tries to stay annoyed. But he really can't. Something about you softens him so much he (almost but not really) hates it. He softly scoffs, before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and making sure your head is positioned properly, you won't drool on him, etc..
If you don't wake up to it, he'll talk to you a liiitle while you're asleep. It's just mundane things to him – what he's reading while you're asleep, what he plans to study next, an experiment or so he's interested in, etc.. all while his hand gently rubs up and down your arm to soothe you.
He's surprisingly comfortable to sleep on – if he doesn't have anywhere else to be. Even then, he's actually very gentle. He'd be huffy about it later, but it doesn't defeat the fact he picks you up carefully and places you somewhere safer to sleep and makes sure you're comfortable and safe before leaving.
Don't fall asleep while in the bath. He'll just wake you up and urge you to leave the instant he realises you're asleep.
——
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obscure-imagines · 1 year ago
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wet dreams - Zoro
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🍃staring. Zoro Roronoa x afab!Reader
⚔️ preview. The swordsman feels like a teenager again. His body has never reacted like this to anyone, not even close. It's been years since he had wet dreams, and now they're coming in, hot, heavy, and nearly nightly.
tw/cw. unprotected sex, wet dreams, hand job, blow job, dirty talk, praise, exhibitionism (sex outside in the Crowsnest), cum play/swallowing, fingering, mutual masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, big dick zoro, fingering, overstim, mutual orgasm, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.
🔫 rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I wc. 3.7k
⚔️ aus. One Piece Live Action, pwp, acquaintances to lovers, etc…
🍀 mlist + an. I showed Sanji and Mihawk some love so I figured I might as well adore my big three and make it a full set with Zoro.
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Zoro is exhausted. His body feels heavy as he lumbers around the ship, his footfalls a little too loud on the wooden deck. His eyes are practically shutting on their own, but he resists the need to nap.
He's been having problems lately... when he sleeps.
While he's able to keep himself mostly in check around you during his waking hours, his mind - and body - have been betraying him in dreamland.
He's woken up five nights this week with the soft sounds of your moans etched into his memory and his pants ruined with the sticky truth about his feelings for you.
Naps had once been a time of rest, but Zoro has been anything but restful since Luffy convinced you to join the crew two weeks ago.
Zoro hates feeling like he's not in control. He hates the way you seem so real in his mind's eye, only for him to wake up and watch you acting completely indifferently toward him- as if he didn't just watch you go down on his cock in explicit detail- as if he didn't just try to fuck you so hard you couldn't even walk-
Being around you is something like torture. His tongue gets tied, his heart races, and he's unable to hold a conversation with you about anything unrelated to piracy... and even then, he stumbles over his words and gets frustrated with himself.
You're just too beautiful.
The swordsman feels like a teenager again. His body has never reacted like this to anyone, not even close. It's been years since he had wet dreams, and now they're coming in, hot, heavy, and nearly nightly.
He does his best to be the last to go to bed, out of fear that someone will walk in while he's sleeping and hear his problem, hell, he wouldn't be shocked if they could even see it.
It's not even midday and Zoro feels like death. It doesn't help that it's hot out. The wind feels practically nonexistent. Everything is stale, sweaty, and full of tension. Even Sanji, who usually dresses in formalwear, has stripped himself of his button-up, opting for an undershirt instead.
Then there's you. Your shorts don't leave much to the imagination, and Zoro has to tear his gaze off of you every time you get within his line of sight. His cock is practically throbbing in his pants anytime you're nearby- anytime your soft scent lingers in the air when you walk past.
"You look like shit."
Zoro sighs at Sanji's words, refusing to look at the chef who's come to lean on the rail next to him, staring out at the sea.
"I mean it. And I'm not trying to be a dick, but seriously moss head, you look like you need some rest," Sanji presses on. "When was the last time you had one of your famous Roronoa naps?"
"I wasn't aware they were famous," Zoro sighs, this conversation is making him even more tired.
"We all know you get a little scratchy without your beauty sleep," Sanji smirks. "Go on, get some rest. It's a shit day, and it will be even more shit if you're in a bad mood. I'll wake you up for dinner."
Usually, Zoro wouldn't do anything Sanji suggests, he wouldn't even entertain it- but the idea of a nap is having a visceral effect on him. He's reminded of the exhaustion that's overtaken him, and the harsh sun is only making things worse.
Zoro lets out a deep breath. "I guess I could use a little shut-eye."
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You let out a loud whimper as Zoro drags his tongue across your neck, holding you close on the deck of the ship. Above, the stars are twinkling, but to the swordsman, all that matters is you. He can hardly see anything else, his mind completely blank except for the feeling of your hand stroking his cock.
"I need more," you tell him, applying just the right amount of pressure.
He's tried dissuading you from sucking his cock, but you're absolutely insatiable for him. Stroking isn't enough, and the promise of filling you up all nice and snug doesn't satisfy you either- no, you want him in your mouth, and you're very verbal about it.
Who is Zoro to deny you?
With a sigh, he agrees, and you sink to your knees immediately.
God, you look beautiful like this.
Your thumb strokes the head of his cock, rubbing through precum as you bring your mouth closer.
You're always a bit of a tease, licking at him gently, pumping his shaft. Zoro can't help but release a small groan, eyes fixed on you, waiting.
When you finally take him into your mouth, Zoro moans, his head lolling back as he enjoys the feeling.
"That's it, angel," he tells you, reaching down to grab at your head, helping you find a rhythm. "Just like that."
You take him so deep, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat much too easily. The feeling of you choking around him has Zoro's abdomen clenching, and a familiar sensation is growing in his balls-
It's as if you can read his mind, your hand snaking up to massage his most sensitive area while you continue practically gagging yourself on his cock.
The sound is absolutely obscene, and Zoro's never heard anything so pretty.
"If you keep sucking like that, I'm going to cum," he warns you, wanting to hold out to finish in your perfect, needy little cunt-
The way you suck on him even harder makes Zoro think you want him to cum. You want him to release down your throat, want to swallow him up like the good girl you are.
Again, who is Zoro to deny you?
"Fuck, angel," he groans, orgasm rising even faster. "You're always so good for me."
You whimper loudly around his cock, stroking your tongue along the vein that runs the underside of his length while squeezing his balls, and that's all it takes for him to cum.
He lets out a grunt as he shoots his load down your awaiting throat, his brows knitted together in concentration and something close to overstimulation. He whispers your name, over and over like a mantra while you suck him dry, eager for every single drop he can give- you're his greedy little angel, and he loves you with every fiber of his being.
You pull off of him when he's done, staring up at him with eyes that reflect the stars above. Then, you stick out your tongue, proving to him that you'd swallowed all he had to give.
Zoro can't help but reach for you, lifting you back onto your feet so he can grab your face and press his lips against yours eagerly.
He treasures the moments you're in his arms, and there's something so satisfying about the salty taste on your tongue-
"Dinner!"
Zoro sits up so fast he nearly falls out of his hammock. His heart is thundering in his chest, and when his eyes quickly dart to the door, he sees that Sanji hadn't bothered to enter, only called out a word of warning.
Swallowing thickly, Zoro looks down at his pants. He can feel his cum, hot and sticky against his skin, his half-chubbed length angrily confined by pants.
Zoro's not sure who's more upset about being woken up from his dream, himself, or his cock.
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Luffy has already gone through half the food by the time Zoro saunters into the dining area. The swordsman's eyes are downcast while he takes a seat next to the captain, and you're kind of glad for that- you want to watch him, but you doubt you'd be able to make eye contact with him right now.
Your skin tingles with the forbidden knowledge that you now have. Your mind keeps replaying the scene you'd walked in on not half an hour ago; Zoro, asleep, his brows knitted together, your name on his lips.
You hadn't stayed long upon finding him in that state, your skin too hot with the realization of what you'd just witnessed, and now, that fevered sensation returns.
You've always had a bit of a crush on Zoro, but you'd never in your wildest dreams imagined that it could be returned. Out of everyone on the ship, Zoro interacts with you the least. He practically avoids you, and you've just spent two weeks thinking he doesn't even like you-
No, this changes everything.
The man with green hair lifts his gaze, and your eyes meet momentarily, only for you to look away, skin flaring again. Your heart is practically beating out of your ribcage, and you can feel your panties sticking uncomfortably to your core.
You'll have to do something about this. You're not sure what- but... you definitely can't go much longer with this kind of unresolved tension. One dinner with a dripping pussy is enough.
You decide you'll have to confront Zoro, and something tells you that you'll thank God for doing so.
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Once everyone is asleep, you slowly tiptoe out of the sleeping quarters. Zoro has been staying up late, keeping watch in the Crowsnest, and you feel like that's a perfect place to talk with him. There's no way he can escape... unless he jumps into the ocean and risks his life- but you don't think it will come to that... or at least, you hope it doesn't.
Carefully climbing the ladder, you think of all the things you can say to him. You're not sure where to even begin, and as you make it to the top, poking your head through the manhole to stare at Zoro's broad shoulders, all the words you'd planned slip your mind.
He hasn't noticed you yet, and it takes closing the ladder cover for him to finally hear you, whipping around with his hand reaching for one of his blades.
Zoro freezes. You both do.
Then his hand drops to his side. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought..." you bite at your lip, "I thought you might want some company."
He gives you a quick once over, then turns to look out at the sea again. "I'm good."
"Why do you act like you hate me so much?" you sigh, ignoring his dismissal and moving to join him.
"I don't act like I hate you."
"You hardly talk to me."
"I'm not a big talker."
You let out another exasperated sigh. There's some truth in what he's just said. "Then I'll talk."
"Go ahead."
Staring out at the sea, you're once again at a loss for what to say. After a few moments of silence, you decide to just... put it all on the table. "I walked in while you were napping earlier."
Zoro goes rigid next to you.
"What were you dreaming about?"
He's quiet, then he turns to look at you. "Sword fighting."
"I didn't think you'd actually lie to me," you frown.
"Who says I'm lying?"
"I just- I don't think sword fighting would lead to you moaning my name over and over."
Zoro looks out at the sea again. "You must think I'm some kind of pervert."
"Trust me, I don't," you assure him. "I'm kind of curious about what we were doing in your dream."
He sneaks a glance at you, and there's a hint of a smile that curls onto his pretty lips. "Yeah?"
You nod. "Maybe... maybe I've been having 'sword fighting' dreams too. We could... compare notes, or something."
Zoro lets out a laugh, shaking his head. The chuckle dies down into a groan. "Fuck." He grips the railing tighter, taking a deep breath. "You really wanna know what we were doing in my dream?"
"Yes, please."
The swordsman turns to face you, crossing his arms over his chest. "You were down on your knees, sucking the fucking soul out of my cock."
If your panties hadn't been ruined at dinner, they're definitely ruined now. "I was?"
"Uh huh. You were begging for it. Begging for every last drop."
Your mouth practically waters at the idea. "And did you give it to me?"
"Of course I did," he says softly, scanning your face. "How could I not?"
"Should we..." Your skin heats at the words about to come out of your mouth, "Can we make that dream real?"
Zoro sucks in a shaky breath. "I think I have a better idea."
"A better idea than me sucking your cock?" You're shocked.
"You're always so good to me in my dreams, maybe I want to be good to you."
Your pussy throbs at the insinuation of what he's saying. Most men would jump at the chance to have your mouth around them, but it looks like tonight, the swordsman wants to be the one pleasuring you-
He's just like the Zoro from your wet dreams, and you have a suspicion that when it gets down to it, he'll be even better.
You can't help yourself any longer, you practically launch your body at him, throwing your arms around his strong shoulders while his hands catch you. Your lips meet as if it's the most natural thing in the world, a soft groan escaping him when you swipe your tongue across his mouth, already eager for entrance.
The kiss deepens, and his hands grip you tighter, pulling you flush to his chest. It feels absolutely insane to be actually doing this in your waking hours- nothing your mind could conjure up compares to the real Zoro-
You can feel his cock already pressing against your hip and it makes you whine loudly, shoving your hand between your bodies to cup him through his pants. He's as big as you imagined he would be, and your pussy flutters with interest.
"Zoro-" you whimper, already needing more.
You've been waiting too long for this, for him-
He groans. "Say that again."
One of his hands joins yours between your bodies, but his slips under the waistband of your shorts, deft fingers rubbing you through your panties.
"Fuck, angel, you're already soaked-"
"Zoro!" you moan, louder this time.
"Tell me you want my fingers."
"God, I need them," you gasp when he leans in, pressing kisses and tracing his tongue along your throat. "I need you inside of me- any of you, I just- I need you!"
"Good girl," he says smoothly, pushing your panties to the side.
His fingers make contact with your dripping cunt, and he teases your pussy lips, just dipping inside enough to coat his skin before he circles your clit.
You cry out, squeezing his cock harder-
"Enough of that," Zoro practically slaps your hand away from him. "Tonight is about you. Let it be about you."
"Fuck, you're too nice to me-"
"Trust me, you deserve it." His fingers sink into your pussy and you moan loudly, leaning forward to begin peppering his own throat in kisses. You thread your fingers through his hair, keeping him close as he begins pumping his digits in and out of your wet core.
You can already hear yourself- the sick squelching of your pussy as he works you open. His palm rubs against your clit, creating a delightful pressure that has your legs shaking and your toes curling.
"You sound so pretty."
Who knew he'd be such a sweet talker.
In the exhibitionistic privacy of the Crowsnest, with the crew sleeping soundly below, Zoro is showing you his true colors, and you couldn't be happier.
No one has touched you like this in too long- but then again, has anyone ever actually touched you like this?
You can't believe how close you already are to cumming. Your skin tingles and you moan louder against his neck, moving your mouth up to suckle on his earlobe.
Zoro groans, and the sound goes straight to your aching core.
"Close already?"
All you can manage is a nod, your eyes closing as you focus on the pleasure of his fingers pumping into your wet hole. "Please-"
"You can cum for me," he tells you. "I wanna hear it."
You can hardly even stand on your own. If it weren't for his strong form, steady under your grip, you're sure you'd be falling. His free palm is on the small of your back, keeping you snug to his front while his fingers work you closer and closer-
"Zoro," you whimper again, feeling tears in your eyes from how tight the coil in your stomach has grown.
"Be a good girl and let go for me. Come on, I know you can do it."
You let out a strangled half sob as your high slams into you. Your entire body tingles with electric energy as your core clamps onto his fingers, which continue inside of you, working you through your orgasm. You shake against him, digging your nails into his shoulders while you whimper and moan, lips pressed to his throat.
"That's it," he praises you, a steady guide through one of the most intense orgasms of your life.
You nearly black out, only for his fingers to slow inside of you, drawing you back into your body. Zoro removes his hand from your pants, and you listen to him suck his digits clean, letting out a small groan at your taste.
"Can I lay you down?" he asks next, tone gentle.
You nod, unable to speak. Zoro softly helps you onto the wooden floor of the small Crowsnest, staring at you with dark eyes that seem to sparkle in the moonlight.
He slowly undresses you, watching as you lift your hips to help him remove your shorts. Your shirt and bra are next, and he's careful to set them nearby before removing his own clothing.
"You still want to do this?" he asks.
"There's nothing I want more."
Once he's naked, Zoro gets between your thighs, holding himself over you while you wrap your legs around his hips. You grab at his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.
His hard cock is too enticing for you not to touch, and soon, you're gripping it while your tongues battle. His moans are music to your ears, and you swipe your thumb over the head of his length to smear his skin with precum.
"You know-" he swallows thickly. "After today, after watching you cum on my fingers, I might not last that long."
"That's okay, I won't last long either." Your pussy is already aching for him again, and from the way his cock twitches in your hand, you know he's as into this as you are. "Just fuck me Zoro, please."
He kisses you deeply, allowing you to guide him to your wet hole.
He's big, but you're soaked, and slipping into you is much too easy. He sinks all the way in, his hips flush to yours when he bottoms out. You moan into each other's mouths, and you grab his face, wanting to keep his lips on yours as he begins to thrust into you.
"Fuck, Zoro, it's so good-" you whimper, pussy clenching tightly around him to earn another sound of appreciation.
"Angel, you're fucking perfect," he agrees, pace already quickening.
The sound of skin on skin fills the night air. You open your eyes, looking up at the moon and stars. It feels natural to be with him like this, under the watchful eye of the heavens-
Your nails dig into his shoulders when his hand adjusts your thigh on his hip. He drives deeper into your wet hole, and each thrust has your head spinning.
You can feel him everywhere, and it's the first time you've ever really felt full, complete.
"Zoro," you whisper, gaining his attention as you draw his lips back to your own.
You get lost in him. His cock is filling you perfectly, and his lips feel like they were made to be on your own.
That familiar tightening in your lower abdomen builds much too fast, and each thrust has Zoro grunting and moaning even louder-
"Fuck, angel, I'm close-"
"Me too," you assure him, pressing your forehead to his own and staring into his eyes. "You'll cum with me, right?"
He can only nod as you slip your hand between your bodies, fingers rubbing your sensitive clit-
Your core tightens even more around his thick length and Zoro lets out a deep moan-
"Shit," he mutters, "where should I cum?"
"Inside," you insist. "Cum inside, I'm on birth control, please, I want it, I need it-"
Zoro's hand balls into a fist on the wooden plank by your head, and he groans. "Can't wait-"
"Me neither," you whisper, eyes closing as the feeling ravages your body, "Cumming-"
Zoro buries his face against your throat as you both reach your highs. You can feel him painting your inner walls, making you even more full than you already are with his cock- it's the most delightful feeling.
Your toes curl as he fucks you through it all, his pace even harder than before, if not a bit erratic. The sounds he's making will be something you never forget, and you cling to him like a lifeline, tracing his muscular shoulders and gasping-
It's as if your orgasm lasts ages, and when Zoro's motions finally begin to slow, it's hard to even catch your breath.
He begins to press kisses along your throat again, working his way to your ear, and then your mouth.
You can't help but grin into each soft press of his lips against your own.
"You look happy," he muses.
"That's because I am. Are you happy?"
"Very."
Your smile widens. "So we're done not talking and pretending to be indifferent to each other, right?"
"Completely done."
"Good, because I don't think I could go back to that."
"Me neither," he admits.
"I like you a lot."
Zoro presses another soft kiss to your lips, his pretty eyes twinkling with emotion in a way you've never seen from the swordsman. "I like you too."
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you liked this, check out my fics for Sanji and Mihawk :)
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grimmsbride · 1 month ago
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LOVERS ROCK [ daisuke / reader ]
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keeping your relationship a secret from your coworkers was no doubt; thrilling. and also, very, very challenging. it didn’t help the two of you just loved to push your limits
tags / ooc characters | semi-public sex (everyone is asleep but still) | reader & daisuke are slightly inexperienced | soft-top daisuke | mentions of marks | cowgirl | dry humping | porn with little plot | they fuck with earbuds in | mentions of the other crew members | fluffy at the beginning | pre-established relationship | sex under the stars.. | pre-crash | chubby & poc coded reader (but anyone is free to read) | i don’t know the exact time period but modern music is mentioned | you guys love holding hands | etc.
notes / #bringbackdryhumping | reader is the same janitor reader in my previous fic (obviously). i got this idea randomly, daisuke seems like the type to take his partner to scenic places for dates. and well.. the nighttime screen is about as scenic as it gets on the tulpar. i hope you enjoy and as usual please excuse any grammar mistakes or typos 🫶🏾. i feel i made him very ooc, i’m used to see daisuke smut being quite submissive to the reader so i wanted to go a different approach.. i think in situations like this he may be a little more confident, especially if his partner is reciprocating to the feeling. if you have any thoughts on the manner let me know <3
The Tulpar was filled with mundane tasks. Wake up, clean, eat, shower, and go back to sleep— a routine that’s been ingrained into your body. A continuous cycle that would have bored you to death without your beloved music. You were grateful for your position, no matter how minuscule, yet you couldn’t deny the wish for something more.
And luckily it came true; in the form of a young man nonetheless.
You weren’t one to mix business and pleasure, it just seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. Coming across Tulpar and the demographic you expected to be on the ship — older people that certainly weren’t your type — you were quite confident you wouldn’t go against your usual code. But alas, you surprised yourself while falling for a certain intern.
As bright eyed and slightly clueless he was, Daisuke was a pocket of sunshine you’ve come to truly adore. Always there when he can be, even if it means a quick kiss when you’re cleaning or a gentle pinch when passing by to remind you of who was in your corner.
Keeping your growing relationship a secret from your coworkers was troublesome but extremely necessary. You couldn’t imagine the expressions the others would display, especially Jimmy who just seemed to be far too eager to stomp on just about anyone's happiness; no matter the size.
Still, you couldn’t deny how thrilling it was at times. Pulling your partner into a quiet dark corner for a few extra kisses, or the secret looks the two of you gave each when in a public setting. The line was thinning longer and longer, close calls increasing as time passed.
And yet here you were, seated upon the living room couch; waiting for your beloved Daisuke.
Usually if the two of you wanted alone time when everyone was asleep you alternated between your bedrooms. At least there, there was a door and bed. But for some reason, Daisuke was adamant on spending some time out here; underneath the pretty nighttime screen.
Your eyes stared up at the blues and whites, head leaning back against the shoulder of the couch as music poured into your ears. Your thumb traced the little device, perfectly at ease.
That was until something delicately traced the back of your neck.
You swallowed a yelp, quickly turning with a jump to glare at the one responsible— who only grinned back at you.
“Daisuke! What if I had yelled?”
You stood up from the couch, watching the man walk around the before waltzing down the little steps. Within two strides he was standing in front of you, glancing down at you with the sweetest smile.
“But you didn't!” Daisuke chuckled the moment you lightly shoved his chest, catching your wrist in time before you could move it away. In doing so, he locked your fingers whilst his free hand went for the earbud occupying one of your ears. Pulling it out, the man then lifted it to his own, bringing himself closer to your form.
You met him, unoccupied hand sliding up to wrap your arm around his waist, laying your head against his chest. Between the melody of his heart beat and Tv Girl running through your ears, you were at complete bliss. As if you could fall asleep right then and there.
The two of you swayed, allowing yourselves to get caught up in each other rather than your surroundings. You felt his free hand sneak underneath your arm, pulling it higher until your hand was on top of his shoulder. After which, Daisuke’s hand found your waist, tugging you even closer and actually adding moves to your swaying.
You snorted softly, mumbling softly about him being corny to which the man only laughed. Silence continued after as the two of you danced slowly, carefully, as to hopefully not alert the others of your rather embarrassing nightly activities.
A step, another, and then a graceful stride. You wondered if Daisuke danced a lot back home. The thought caused you to laugh once again, just in time for your lover to twirl you.
Slithering his arm tighter around your waist, he pulled your back to his front, face being shoved into your neck.
Your eyes peeled open, staring up at the nighttime screen that stared back at you. “Dancing under the stars, huh?..”
“A perfect date.”
You smiled at his words, hand rose to reach back and lightly fuss with his hair. “Yeah, all girls love dancing at work while watching a blown up image of a fake sky.”
Daisuke laughed into your ear, the pitch perfectly going along with the music you shared.
“I told my dad I knew what the ladies wanted.”
You groaned softly, teetering between amusement and playful annoyance. You turned around in his hold, hands rising to hold his warm cheeks.
“You’re corny..”
Daisuke smiled, thumb tracing the small of your back, messing with the fabric of the top you wore. “And lucky for me, you’re into it.” You didn’t need to agree nor deny, given the sweet kiss you pressed to his lips was answer enough. He kneeled to meet you fully, tugging you so close as if wishing to melt into you. Your noses brushed against each other, cold tips warming as you consumed one another. You loved kissing Daisuke, not just because he was your boyfriend but more-so cause he was a damned good kisser.
His lips always moved so slow at first, before slowly picking up the longer you continued. A hand rose from your back to instead cup the back of your head, a shiver running down your spine the moment his fingers traced up your scalp; messing in your hair.
So desperate.. you two always were. The thought of any interruptions spurred you on to always savor each and every moment with as much as passion as possible.
And it seemed the both of you intended to do just that, as — ever so carefully — Daisuke walked backwards, leading you with him. Once close enough he was descending to the couch, taking you with him by the waist and pulling you onto his lap.
The two of you broke apart for a moment, gulping up the air around you greedily before smashing your lips together with even more vigor. Your hands were clutching his shoulders at this point, suddenly being reminded Daisuke wasn’t just some clueless man.
You shivered as you felt his hand glide, intruding your top to lay his fingers upon your warm skin. With each interlock of your tongues his fingers were digging into your flesh, a soft whine being pushed from his throat into your mouth. The sound alone caused your thighs to clench, moving carefully in his lap.
Which of course, was met with a hiss and a quick squeeze. You questioned this for a moment, before quickly realizing why it happened in the first place.
This only caused you to smile against him, lowering your hips fully before dragging them against him slowly.
Daisuke was off your lips in minutes, hands falling to your waist as a hushed groan escaped his bruised lips.
“Here?..” The man spoke gently, eyes flicking from between your bodies before back to your face. His eyebrows furrowed as you continued your languid drags, biting the inside of his cheek nervously.
You nodded slowly, leaning closer to press your lips to his ear. “Mhm.. here.”
“Then.. I want to feel— more. Please.” His words were sweet, allowing them to settle in the air for a moment before his fingers were curling to tug at your pants, allowing you to get the message. You stood up rather quickly, pushing your pants down and off, the bottoms pooling at your ankles.
You watched as Daisuke did the same, now only in plain boxers, a funny contrast to the gaudy everyday shirt he usually wore.
Stepping out of your pants, you caught his hands as you made your way back to his lap, brushing your clothed cunt right against his growing bulge as you sat down. It was your time to whine as you felt him through your thin fabrics, Daisuke capturing your lips rather quickly afterwards.
Slowly, you began that same languid pace, gripping his shoulders for stability as you dragged your hips back and forth.. back and forth. His nails were digging into your thighs, meeting your movement with a small, desperate thrust. Moans passed between the two of you, warmth, and music mixing into a sensation that you could only describe as euphoria.
Dramatic sure, but what else could you call it, exactly?
“Could come.. ju—just from this.” Daisuke mumbled the moment the two of you broke apart for air, his face falling to your neck to stamp wet kisses to your skin. He was gentle not to focus too much on a single area, worrying about leaving behind a mark. Though, it seemed rather contradictory given the location the two of you chose for your.. fun.
You were aching, panties surely soaked with arousal as that itch grew. You could only pant in his ear, unsure how exactly this felt so good. Maybe it was pent up, a mixture of stress and the misfortune of lack of alone time. Regardless, it wasn’t your job to figure it out at the moment.
The only job you had right now was to continue to chase this feeling, for as long as you could.
Daisuke pulled you closer if humanly possible, hips rising up from the couch as he ground up into you. He wasn’t lying early, despite zero actual contact he could feel himself twitching— begging for release. The effect you had on him was far too great, after all.
Desperate breaths escaped you, thighs shaky yet yearning for more. His touch, everything, you wanted to feel it all. Your fingers rose to curl into his hair, leaning into his ear as the softest more, dropped from your tongue.
Your words spurred him, fingers squeezing your flesh, nails tracing against those pretty marks that lined your hips.
“You want more?.. Of course, whatever you want.”
Daisuke could never deny you, no matter how small the request was. In minutes he was tugging his boxers down to his thighs, hand lazily dragging across his length. It was a pretty color, lighter than him, with a mole on the under side of his shaft.
The man then reached with his other hand to curl his finger on your panty, tugging it to the side and exposing your soft cunt to his hand. For a moment his finger gently circled your hardened bud, enjoy the pleasant noises you struggled to keep down.
But soon enough he was becoming as desperate as you, helping you position carefully, rubbing his weeping tip against your clit. Daisuke hissed, continuing to coat his dick in your arousal before finding your entrance, lining up, and raising his hips to push himself inside.
The both of you groaned, your eyes pinched closed as you sunk down. Your walls wrapped around his length perfectly, swallowing him up and keeping him deep inside. With each breath you released you clenched, causing the young man under you to struggle to keep his mind straight. Daisuke couldn’t help being so inexperienced, and well.. neither could you, given you felt a single movement would be enough to push you over the edge.
Your eyes slowly opened, gaze falling to his face, taking the time to map out his expression. Would it be corny to call him beautiful? Was it corny to find your lover beautiful in a such state? Under your mercy, as close as biologically possible? Maybe.. but you didn’t dwell on it long, instead deciding to graze your palms across his cheeks, thumbs coming to trace the moles on either side.
“I love you.”
Your words were earnest, laced with the sweetest honey. You smiled, watching his own signature smile cross his face, perfectly. Like any other time.
Daisuke pulled you even closer, a grip to your thigh as he leaned to just a breath’s away.
“See. Now you’re the corny one.”
Your lover swallowed the pretty laughter threatening to leave your chest, all smiles as his arms wrapped around your waist. Once tucked close and snug, his hips, the small thrust enough for the both of you to sigh into the other’s mouth.
Soon enough your knees were pressing against the cushions, hips rising and falling into his lap. With each drop, wet skin smacked against each other, certainly a worrying sound but the two of you seemed to no longer care.
You were too caught up in each other anyway.
Your fingers curled into his silky locks, crying out into his mouth as he stirred you up deeply. His length hit each spot perfectly, a mold made specifically for you. And what’s more, the moment a hand snaked under your skirt to drag his thumb across your nipple— you began to see stars.
Daisuke groaned into you, meeting each drop of your hips with desperate thrusts. You felt so good, way too good. He tried to keep his voice down as to avoid alerting the others, and hear you. You just sounded far too good to ignore.
Your shaky breaths, the way your voice pitched whenever his tip brushed against that special spot — don’t even get him started on the gasps you made when Daisuke went, just a little too deep. Alas he couldn’t focus on the growing list of reasons for his obsession you; bringing you complete pleasure was the main objective.
“You’re clenching me.. you’re going to come, aren’t you?” Daisuke drawled against your lips, pressing a kiss to them before dragging his own over to your ear. Each pant and groan hit it directly, the man at this point helping you rise and fall upon his cock.
“I want you to finish.. all over me.”
“Daisuke—!”
“Not so loud..” The intern spoke in a soft rasp, squeezing you close as his end grew closer. “I don’t need the others to hear you like this. It’s on—only for me, yeah?”
You shook your head rapidly, lip nearly bleeding from how hard you were biting down, your fingers digging into his shoulders— sure to leaves marks despite the shirt he wore.
Within moments you were seeing white, clutching him as you fulfilled his wish. Your arousal coated his dick and thighs, making a sticky mess that was surely on the couch by now.
Daisuke swore under his breath, bringing you onto his lap in one final thrust before filling you up. Luckily he remembered you took the pill as to regulate your period.
The two of you panted, in sync with each other and the music that seemed to still be blasting in your ears. How exactly your earbuds sustained that erratic movement, you will never know nor question.
You pulled back to glance at Daisuke, spotting the man already looking at you, smiling brightly.
You rolled your eyes, glancing down at the space between your two bodies.
“This is going to be so annoying to clean.”
Daisuke stifled his laughter, pulling you into a tight hug, eyes shining whilst he stared up at the screen;
“Maybe… I love you too, [Name].”
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botchedsundoll · 2 months ago
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L. KENNEDY, C. REDFIELD, C. OLIVEIRA X READER (SEPARATE)
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ೃ⁀➷ sypnosis; general relationship/ domestic hc’s
ೃ⁀➷ warnings; none!
ೃ⁀➷ author’s note; hi giys my requests r open😝 request please… pls☹️, idc if some of these r ooc in my world they are very much in character i love them all so much oh my god, didn’t include much abt their jobs bcos i wany thrm all to be happy okay..
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C. OLIVEIRA
have you seen them photos of them big beefy scary men underneath like thick hello kitty or very feminine blankets? yeah that’s him
SNORES. SNORES SO LOUDLY. he wraps his arms around you instinctively at night and his grip is so tight you genuinely can’t escape his warmth or snoring
on the topic of that, he runs warm. he’s a genuine heater in winter - cold? cuddle up to him, saving money on the heating. win win!
whenever he comes home from the gym or wherever and he spots you watching one of your shows on the tv, he’ll stand behind the couch and watches it himself before eventually sitting down besides you. he can’t help it
every friday IS date night. whether that be something as simple as dinner at home together or something as extravagant as going to a fancy restaurant, the two of you are spending time together. he will make sure of that
going off of my previous hc’s, he can’t bake for life of him. cooking he’s rather okay-ish with all the simple stuff but baking? alone? absolutely not
the two of you decided to bake something for one of your date nights once. you asked him to pour flour and cocoa powder into the wet ingredients and turn the mixer on - he forgot to put the splashguard on and turned it right up to the fastest setting
safe to say your kitchen, and carlos, looked as if they’d just came out of winter wonderland
gives off the biggest girl dad vibes. just imagine him letting his little girl put random clips and bows in his hair jshwiaianwi omg
he has such a soft spot for strays. has genuinely brought home a puppy before because he saw it laying out by the dumpster before and couldn’t leave it alone
he’s all over you. CONSTANTLY. arm over your shoulder, hand on your hip. he can’t get enough of you
L. KENNEDY
he wakes up a few minutes earlier than he actually needs to (when he does actually fall asleep) just stare at you and how peace you look asleep
you’ve asked him to help you with your hair so many times to the point he’s genuinely become an absolute professional at it. the moment you give him that look he tells you to turn around and starts working his magic
keeps photos of you in his wallet, he knows deep down its rather risky but can’t help himself
in the instances that he does fall asleep before you (extremely rare) and you cuddle up against his side, his arm automatically wraps around you. it’s like muscle memory at this point
has your name engraved into his key chain on his keys
ALWAYS helps out with dinner whenever he’s home, despite you constantly telling him to get the fuck out and relax for a bit. ends up in him dancing with you in the kitchen
his showers are like, the ideal temperature- perfect for you to just hop in with him. he never minds and rather welcomes it
ALWAYS SURPRISES YOU FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY!! goes absolutely FULL out, waking you up with kisses on your shoulder, an expensive outfit you’ve had your eye on for a while, extravagant dinner and a nice little stroll in the park at night. switches it up every year so you never know what’s coming
has you as his emergency contact for sure
plays old rock songs in the car. causes you to make fun of him and call him an old american dad - even though you definitely don’t actually like the song. definitely
C. REDFIELD
i just KNOW this man can be out sass you during arguements. growing up with claire certainly prepared him for that
he’s gone quite most of the time, so he makes sure to spend as much time as possible with you whenever he can
recently saw this thing where it was an ex military with his kids, where he’s shouting out orders like a drill sergeant during bath time. chris. it just screams chris.
— “I’M PUTTING SHAMPOO IN YOUR HAIR, DO NOT OPEN YOUR EYES! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”
— “OK!”
just imagine hearing that every time it’s his turn with bath time. just constant giggles and shouts (if there r kids ofc)
you and claire are CLOSE. chris has made sure of that, definitely introduced you two once he knew it was getting serious
regrets it at times, as whenever something happens at home with the two of you - no matter how stupid the arguement may hve been claire is always the first to know. and always the first to knock some sense into her brother
wears hawaiian dad shirts in summer. for a fact.
like carlos, runs SO WARM. feels as though he’s an actual bear and has genuine fur on him keeping him so warm
sleeps flat on his back, arms by his sides. usually a very light sleeper but at times absolutely nothing will wake him up. you’re free to roll around all over him, strew your legs out over him and he’ll simply stay lying on his back like always. hands by his sides and the only indication of him actually being alive being the rise and fall of his chest
his appetite is absolutely outrageous. you best believe whatever you make is being absolutely devoured, he loves your cooking. sometimes all he needs is some home cooked dinner to put a smile on his face
he will genuinely let you do almost anything to him. you wanna massage his back? sure. do a face mask on him? alright, but no photos. wax a patch of hair on his leg? did it before, never letting you do it again. he has a hard time saying no to you - he’s lost too much people, he needs to make the most of his time with you
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ateliersss · 4 months ago
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Don't worry, only You and Him
Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: Waking up from the week of bed rest after giving birth, you hadn't expected how your eldest seemed to resent the newest addition to your family. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 2.782 After the Blooming Family series
⇨ I'm back with family drama but also family fluff between mom and her favorite boys. Also, how come Yautja pups are so freaking adorable?! Oh, and these too. Comments are always appreciated.
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The happy squeals of an infant pup filled the otherwise peaceful and quiet space of the clan leader's abode.
Little Toyah was a lively little pup for being only four weeks old. Currently, he was lying on his back on the nest of his parents, his small arms flailing and his short legs kicking as high-pitched babblings left his mouth. His upper body was resting against the calves of your crossed legs. His eyes were wholly focused on you leaning over him, cooing at him while your fingers tickled his sides.
It was one of the rare moments where you weren't suffocated by your mate who was constantly glued to your side, desperate to be as close to you as possible, and your eldest boy who was shadowing your every move, ensuring you didn't strain yourself. You knew they meant no harm, but it got overwhelming after some time when you just wanted to leave the nest to get something to eat or take your pup outside for a short walk in the village, and two looming figures would follow you around.
Especially Akail had a hard time leaving you alone. From what Mi'ytiar had told you, he had been restless in those six days you had been unconscious and even became hostile towards his younger brother. Your heart broke when your mate admitted that he had to physically fight his son off after he tried to forcefully get into your shared bedroom where you were healing and little Toyah was sleeping. Mi'ytiar didn't need to tell you that it wasn't an attempt to see you.
You couldn't have imagined how much your near-death experience had affected him. He had been so excited to meet his little mei'hswei, but now, all he saw was a parasite that had almost taken his beloved mother away from him.
"It almost killed you!" He had yelled at you in rage when you had tried to confront him about his strange behavior towards Toyah.
His father hadn't taken kindly in him talking in that tone to you, his large body towering behind yours with crossed arms as he stared murderously at his son. No one was allowed to raise their voice against you, especially your child who had to always respect and cherish you.
The conversation grew heated with every second and Akail had made the mistake of adopting an aggressive posture towards you. Well, not you, but your stubborn incapability of understanding his feelings towards what had almost cost your life. It had set Mi'ytiar off in the worst way possible and both had fought like wild animals until they both halted when your screams finally reached their ears.
In their scramble in the main room of your home, they hadn't only destroyed most furniture, like the long table occupying the middle, or had torn down Mi'ytiar's display of various skulls and other trophies. They had also knocked you over when you had foolishly tried to get between them. You were hysterically crying, emotions all over the place, your trembling body cowering on the ground, both hands pressed to your mouth.
Your mate was by your side in a second and carefully cradled your face. He pulled you towards him, your forehead pressed against his, and filled the air with his reassuring purrs. You choked on your tears and tried your hardest to force them back. You knew how much your negative emotions could affect him. It never ended well with the one that caused them.
"Please don't kill him." You pleadingly whispered before you felt him pull away from you.
He had found it very difficult to comply with your request when he banished his son from your home, threatening him to not show his face anywhere near his mate and pup before he had taken you to your nest to calm you from your breakdown.
That was a week ago and you hadn't seen or heard from Akail ever since. Worry was eating you alive. Not necessarily because he had probably left the planet, but the possibility of him going on a hunt to let off steam. There was a reason you had taught him patience and restraint. One would make the most terrible, most irrational decisions when they were blinded by rage and would be too focused on that one thing causing that emotion than anything else. You had sent Mi'ytiar after him, but even he couldn't track down his son.
Now, all you could do was wait and hope he would come home.
While a part of you was with your eldest, wherever he was, the other part was occupied with your youngest.
"Who is my pretty little boy? Who is my lovely little boy? Hm? Who is it?" You asked in a high-pitched voice, lifted your pup up above your head, and beamed up at him when he happily squealed. "It's you!" You pulled him against your chest and smothered his little face with kisses. "So handsome. Yes you are, yes you are! My perfect baby boy."
Placing him in the crook of your arm, you lovingly looked down at him when he snatched your finger and chewed on it to his heart's content. It was something he did quite often whenever one was near his mouth. He must have started teething. At least, that was what you thought when you felt the tiny bumps in his gums. Even his mandibles had developed in the month since he was born as they were clamping down and around your finger.
"Beautiful like your daddy." You murmured against his forehead, a smile forming on your lips when Toyah responded with a shrill clicking noise. "And so, so sweet like your mei'hswei."
Your attention was solely on your pup. That way, you didn't register the sound of the door to your and Mi'ytiar's bedroom open and how someone slowly made their way over to you. Only when something large crawled on your nest over to you, did you put on a knowing grin. You really couldn't spend five minutes alone with your pup, could you?
"My love, stop it. Are you needy for attention again?" You started when you felt something bump against your shoulder and upper arm.
But when you turned your head, it wasn't Mi'ytiar's forehead that was nudging you.
"O-Oh God." You breathed out in a shaky exhale. "Akail."
A voice in the back of your head reminded you that you were still holding your pup in your hands when your fingers twitched and your arms jerked, the need to wrap them around him completely filling your mind. You quickly but gingerly placed Toyah on one of the fluffy blankets you used to tuck yourself in at night before you pulled Akail in a hug and buried your face in the side of his head. You couldn't hold back the tears of relief as you peppered the skin in reach with kisses.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where have you been?" You bombarded him with questions the second you cupped his face to pull it in front of yours to inspect every centimeter of it.
"'m sorry, Mama." was his rumbling reply and he nuzzled into your palm.
Your heart broke right then and there.
"Oh, baby…" You whispered, your voice cracking when you saw the sorrow in his eyes. "It's okay. Everything is fine."
"Hurt you." He pressed on in a low whine.
"No, it's alright. You didn't hurt me. It was an accident, simply an accident. I shouldn't have gone between you and your father." You hurried to reassure him.
Akail let out a huff and glanced over to Toyah whose eyes hadn't strayed away from you from the moment he had to leave your arms against his will. You followed his line of sight and started stroking his cheek with your thumb.
"It wasn't his fault, my little warrior." You began, hoping you could finally discourse the aggressive aversion he had towards his brother. "He had no control over the nature of life. My body was set on birthing him while he wasn't fully ready. I already suspected it when my water broke. I had premature labor pains for a week when I was carrying you, but with Toyah, it only had been two days. You had enough time to turn, he didn't."
As a response, Akail clicked his mandibles in resignation and you knew this wasn't going to be as easy as you had hoped. You had thought he would have had a change of mind when he disappeared, but apparently not.
You put on a brave smile and reached over to your pup, lifted him up in your arms, and placed him down in your lap, his tiny hands closing around each of your pointer fingers for balance as he stared up at his brother.
"Don't you want to meet your little mei'hswei?" You asked optimistically as you loosened one of Toyah's fingers from yours to reach out for Akail.
The narrowed eyes of your eldest strayed from the tiny parasite in his mother's lap to your hand and without hesitation let you grab his hand. You cautiously pulled his hand down to Toyah, careful as if he would snatch it back any moment, but when he didn't, your tense posture relaxed a little.
You looked down at the top of Toyah's head, which was fully fixed on his brother now. "Look, Toyah, look who is here."
You let go of Akail's hand, delight filling you when his hand inched closer on their own accord, and when he was finally within reach, Toyah's small fingers instantly wrapped around the finger that was closest to him. You watched how your eldest tensed up and lowly growled at him, yet the little one was hardly impressed by it and instead started chirping.
However, you weren't as indifferent as your pup and pinned him down with a warning glare.
"Akail." You hissed through gritted teeth, not wanting to agitate the baby. "He is no threat."
If he were a dog, he would have tucked his tail between his legs and pressed his ears to his head. Instead, another low whine sounded from the back of his throat for being scolded and he kept his hand in the grip of his younger brother in resignation. For someone who was pretty much a young adult, he still behaved like a little boy when he was around you.
"Do you think your father would tolerate him if he thought of him as one?" You inquired, already knowing the answer as Mi'ytiar was far more aggressive in his protectiveness towards you than Akail. "Your father delivered your brother without knowing if I would survive it or not. He did it because he knew it was my body that caused the inability of a natural birth."
You hesitated a little with your next words, not knowing if it would help the situation, but it wouldn't hurt.
"Your birth wasn't easy as well. It took us hours: me, your father and Cahrein. You may have been in the right position, but it hurt so much that I thought you would claw your way through my stomach if it took any longer. I couldn't talk, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. I was slowly giving up and blacking out one too many times." You paused to watch Akail wince in shame, his body shrinking a little into itself. "But just as your father helped me with your little brother, he helped me make your birth possible and much easier. And he doesn't love you any less because he knows it was neither your or Toyah's fault."
Toyah, who was completely oblivious about the exchange, had released the grip he still had on your other finger and was now clutching another finger of Akail's hand. He was babbling, his mandibles making a high-pitched clicking noise, before he chomped down on his finger knuckles. Akail straightened his back and his head snapped down before he stared at you with a glare that said, "See! A little demon!" but you only needed to give him that look and any of his protests instantly evaporated.
You softened your scowl and gazed lovingly at Toyah when his hands were moving up to his brother's wrist, then his forearm, like he was trying to pull himself up. You looked between your boys back and forth, observing the reaction of your eldest and the attempts to climb up his brother's arm of your youngest. When Toyah seemed to slip sideways from his arm, you gasped and immediately reached out to catch him, but Akail was faster. As he kept his occupied arm taut, the other one moved at once to place his hand under Toyah's bum.
For a second, you were frozen with your hands still outstretched and only when a low purring reached your ears, you retracted them, one hand gripping the other, and pressed them to your mouth to hide a smile. Akail was actually purring when Toyah was settling on his biceps, seemingly content in his new position.
"You know, he is much smaller than you were at his age." You casually said, having to bite the inside of your cheek to keep you from squealing at the adorable sight in front of you.
Akail rumbled and you could practically see the satisfaction in his eyes at your words as he watched the pup settle where he was clinging on his arm. Even as a child, stroking his ego had always been a great way to keep him in a good mood. It seemed to work very well now, too, when the thumb of the hand that was still supporting Toyah's bottom started to caress his back.
"Were you small like this?" Akail asked you after a while of petting his brother who had lulled him to sleep.
"Yeah, probably." You hummed and moved to sit cross-legged across from him. "You remember what Mama told you about her job on Earth?"
Akail nodded. "Healer. Like Cahrein."
You laughed and absentmindedly took his hand in yours, carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping pup. "Yes, like Cahrein. I held so many babies in my arms I lost count. They were of all kinds of sizes, depending on how their mothers took care of themselves during their pregnancy. Seems like your father had spoiled me a little too much when you were still in my belly." You giggled.
"Your other pups too?" He then asked, his eyes dulling a little.
"Mine?" You raised your eyebrows in confusion.
"Ooman."
When it dawned on you what he meant, you softly cooed.
Was he actually thinking that you had…?
Your heart almost burst with overwhelming emotion as you looked at him. The face of a Yautja wasn't as capable of expressing emotion as a human. Rather, they used their voice and body language to articulate their mood. Akail, however, was still able to look like an insecure bundle of nerves at the worrying possibility that you had another, different family on your home planet. Maybe it was his human part that made it so easy to read him like a book.
"Oh, Akail. The only babies I have are you and your little brother." You were quick to dissolve his distress and scooted over to him until you were sitting right beside him, your hand cupping his jaw. "I never wanted pups with a human, my sweetling. I never thought of having one because I believed they wouldn't fit into my life. I never felt the desire to mate with a man that would ensure pups. Not that I ever wanted any with them."
Immediately, Akail felt at ease at your words and even pulled Toyah closer to him — although you believed it happened rather from his subconscious — like it was a reassuring epiphany that it was only them and no one else connected to you in this way.
"But your Papa…" You sighed with a bright smile when a powerful rush of euphoria cursed through your body at the mere thought of your Mi'ytiar. "Your Papa is the only being in the whole universe that made the idea of not having pups with him unbearable. I wanted to be connected with him in every way possible and the last thing that was missing was being the mother of his pups." Your hand reached up to his dreads, running your fingers through them when you pulled your hand down. "You and your brother are all I could ask for and I'm so incredibly happy to be your mother. So don't worry, my little warrior, you only have to share me with Toyah. And your father, of course."
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Masterlist: here
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Tag List
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hyunebunx · 3 months ago
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what if i said 💚💞 with hyunjin... oh my god im just imagining it i must lie down
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˖˙ ᰋ ── 💚- 'a deep, slow, and deliberately intense kiss filled with passion and desire' & 💞- 'a longing kiss shared after being apart for a while'
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﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. word count: 1k
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: been looking forward to writing this since you requested it >.< so i really hope i did it justice haha. enjoy!! <3 and thank you sm for making me delulu with this!!
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The most time you’ve spent apart was two weeks. And even so, they proved to be the longest two weeks of your life. With how clingy and attached to the hip you and your lover were, even the idea of being separated for a prolonged period terrified you beyond belief. Unfortunately, your nightmare came to life when Hyunjin got busy and suddenly, you weren’t spending all of your free time together, but had to squeeze in a call or two, if you were lucky, throughout the day between his shows. Time zones were never your best friend but now, they have become the number one enemy.
Not having him there, next to you, whenever your heart desired proved to be the most difficult thing you could go through. Hyunjin shared the sentiment, often getting emotional on your late night or early morning calls, crying, and being unable to comfort each other properly.
Longing for your beloved was a daily occurrence, even while he was near, but now it became almost painful, consuming your every thought.
Thankfully, your suffering came to an end on a day like any other.
You weren’t expecting it, just returning from a long day at work and dragging your feet around to get ready for bed when the sound of the front door opening caused your heart to stop beating momentarily. Nobody other than you and Hyunjin had the keys to the apartment and still, your mind froze like not being able to wrap itself around the possibility of him returning so soon. Has it already been three months?
Without thinking about it, your feet move automatically, following the faint sounds coming from the living room, eager at the prospect of seeing your one and only again.
You come to a halt when he appears before your eyes, looking the same way he did when he left, just a tad more exhausted.
“Baby?” He asks, voice soft and filled with concern when you don’t reply, or react for that matter. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
Overwhelmed with emotion, you hurry towards him and flung yourself into his arms, with him dropping the bag he was carrying to catch and hug you close, lifting your feet off the ground with ease.
“I missed you so much!”
He giggles, spinning you around once before responding, still not letting go. “There is that sweet voice of yours. I thought you were going to give me the silent treatment for the whole night.”
“I should.” You say, hiding your face in the crock of his neck and tightening your hold on him. “Since you didn’t bother to tell me you’d be returning today.”
“I wanted to surprise you!”
When he finally sets you down, Hyunjin stares deeply into your eyes, fondness and love swirling behind the familiar brown, causing your heart rate to pick up. Without warning, your arms are around his shoulders again, only this time, they help you bring him into a long awaited kiss you’ve been dreaming about for months on end.
As expected, your boyfriend responds in kind, circling your waist to pull you flush against him with such an urgency that could only signal his fear of having you slip through his fingers, disappear like you’re nothing more than a fragment of his rich imagination. Even if rushed, his lips are as gentle as you’ve come to know them, softly loving on yours exactly how you remembered.
Hyunjin could spend hours kissing you – just kissing and stealing your breath away like it was his to begin with, seizing everything that made you the person he adored.
Backing you against the nearest surface, stumbling through scattered bags, he pulls away to chuckle against your lips when your back meets the cold surface of the fridge.
“Surprise.” He runs big hands up and down your back, to soothe any possible discomfort he might have brought forth.
You shake your head, lips curling upwards against his as you reach up to pinch both of his cheeks, causing him to wince and groan lowly. “What if I started bawling my eyes out, hm?”
“Why would you?” Being so close, you manage to understand him even as you move to squeeze his cheeks together in your palms, making him pout involuntarily.
“Because I missed you so, so much and was overwhelmed with emotions?”
He makes to respond but finds himself unable to, furrowing his brows and giving you a pointed look. You grin, breathing him in and finding comfort in his familiar scent, thankful he didn’t seem to run out of your favorite cologne in these three months. When you stop holding his cheeks hostage, Hyunjin opens his mouth to start babbling but you beat him to it by going in for another kiss, not getting enough the first time around.
He relaxes instantly, eyes fluttering shut as he deepens the kiss, slowly sneaking his tongue past your lips to finally taste you after so long. One of his hands dances under your top, kneading at the skin just like a cat, pushing his body more onto yours, simultaneously pinning it against the refrigerator in the process.
All of your movements are slow, set on enjoying the moment for as long as humanely possible. In your mind, parting from him was never an option, but in reality, you were two individuals who unfortunately could not survive on kisses and hugs alone. 
Reality was cruel, you’ve come to learn the moment you fell for Hyunjin and realized you couldn’t always go where he went, stand there and drink him in like you were a moth and him, the flame. Fortunately, it didn’t burn when you got too close.
One of your hands is in his hair, pulling lightly as he nibbles on your bottom lip, needing more and more – to feel more of you, to hear more. You could never get enough of each other.
When Hyunjin pulls away, breaking the kiss but remaining as close as possible, you’re both breathing heavily, flustered, lips swollen and slick with each other. You’re giggling again when your eyes meet, high off of reuniting and being together again after so long, with your boyfriend pushing his long hair out of his face with both hands, visibly shy.
 “I missed you too. So fucking much I almost went insane.” He confesses, voice husky from stealing most of the air in his lungs.
“Next time, I’ll pack you in one of my suitcases and take you with me.”
Your eyes widen comically. “You plan to leave again?!”
That suitcase better be comfy.
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agentsinopia · 5 months ago
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yan coworker pt. 4... ♡
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notes: slightly suggestive. reader is intoxicated.
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days in the office followed the same pattern. wake up, go to work, settle into a little cubicle, work, work, work until lunch break, then work again until the sun inevitably set, clock out, head home, throw some dinner together and knock out on the bed. that was life before you showed up.
it was life after was much more exciting.
for yan coworker, being surrounded by corporate his entire work life had dulled him into the sense that there was no one out there who could cut through the monotony of life. somehow, you changed that. you had a different perspective on life- much brighter, more fullfilling. with every conversation yan coworker couldn't help but becoming addicted to the energy that surrounded you. something about you, the way you smiled, the way you laughed, he couldn't get enough.
he needed more.
before he had even realized it, his routine had changed. he no longer prioritized his work, instead he prioritized yours. he made sure as your manager that all your tasks were well delegated, ensuring that you never fell into the same despair and heavy workload that he had years before. he didn't care if it was obvious that he was playing favorites- let others see that you were under his supervision, and only under him would you work the best.
yan coworker couldn't keep his antics restrained to the workplace. he found your address, often staring from afar at your bedroom window, watching your silhouette, wishing the curtains weren't drawn. he clung onto every little story you told him about your life, often visiting the places you had mentioned and imagining himself inserted into your past memories.
finally, the day had come. the department had gone for a team dinner, and soon enough, all the interns were wasted drunk, including you. yan coworker had made sure that you were seated next to him previously, and in the crowded booth the two of you were shoulder to shoulder. balling his hands into fists, he refrained himself from his desire of slinging his arm over your shoulder or placing a hand on your thigh. oh how he wished you were just a little bit closer, so that he could inconspicuously lean into your hair, smelling your sweet scent, or better, that it would somehow rub off onto him.
almost as if you had read his mind, you shuffled closer, leaning your head onto his shoulder in what was obviously a drunken daze. yan coworker froze. though he had imagined this scene time and time over, the touch, the scent, the feeling of you so close sent blood roaring through his ears and his heart beating fast.
you murmured nonsense, cuddling closer into his side. if his ears weren't red enough, his face was beginning to flush and he was sure heat was radiating off of him.
yan coworker was known for being smart and quick on his feet- but in a matter of seconds, you had reduced his smarts into nothing. he gently shifted his shoulder, allowing you to lean more comfortably. he tuned into your mumblings, head over heels of how cute you were in the moment.
“yan, yan…” you slurred, tugging on his sleeve.
“yes?”
suddenly your face contorted, a gag building in your throat. yan coworker didn’t need to look twice- he pulled you up, rushing you to the bathroom. as you threw up into the toilet he gently stroked your hair, murmuring soft affirmations.
even in this moment, you were nothing but perfect.
you looked up after several minutes, embarrassed that you had emptied out the contents of dinner in front of your manager. yet there was no judgement in yan coworkers eyes- he simply held his hand out, helping to pull you up to your feet.
“let’s get you home, shall we?”
you nodded, the effects of alcohol still making your mind hazy. still holding onto his hand, you followed yan coworker out of the restroom. he bid his farewells to the rest of the team, then guided you to his car. you slipped in, cool air caressing your face. before you knew it, you were home.
yan coworker held his hand out for you as he opened your door, and once again you took it, letting him guide you as you stumbled up the steps to your place. you clumsily entered your password into the keypad, not registering yan coworkers watchful gaze. he helped you into your home, letting you use his shoulder for support while you slipped your shoes off.
in your daze you could only feel exhaustion, and a headache beginning to build behind your eyes. you found your way to your room, flopping onto the bed.
"not going to change darling?"
you turned your head, squinting at yan coworker leaning against the doorframe. you giggled- "what, are you gonna help me?"
before you could even blink, yan coworker had covered the distance from the door to your bed. he crouched down, now at eye-level. he stared you down for a moment, his eyes searching yours. you felt heat rush to your cheeks as the handsome man peered into your soul. you turned your head quick, breaking the spell.
"you're drunk."
you didn't miss the way he sounded almost disappointed. like he was holding himself back.
"don't state the obvious yan."
the man chuckled, and a moment later you felt a soft blanket cover your body.
"go to sleep. call me in the morning, i'll make you hangover soup."
"... you're going?" you mumbled, snuggling into the covers.
"yes darling, but not right now. i'll stay here for a bit, make sure your okay."
you nodded your head, oblivious to the fact that letting your coworker into your house unattended wasn't entirely safe, or that said coworker was suddenly using pet names to refer to you.
yan coworker pulled up a chair, watching as you fell into sleep. he let the mask fall, embracing the frantic beating of his heart. today he had progressed more than he ever had, getting closer to you and even seeing a completely different side of you- a drunk persona that had softened his heart even more.
you slept unaware as yan cower slowly walked around your room, slipping things into his pockets and taking pictures of products, periodically stopping to gaze at your lying form. he felt a frenzy building inside his chest, like his heart couldn't believe where he was in the moment.
months. it had taken months for an event like this to come up. yan coworker would be dumb to not take the opportunity while it presented itself. he glanced longingly at you while you breathed in and out, savoring the scent of you that lingered in the air. he stepped closer to the bed, feeling almost delirious.
how was he to go home? how was he to leave this haven?
gently, ever so gently, he stroked your hair, as he had done so many times before to the mannequin in his room. but this was better, this was real. he felt butterflies in his stomach as he crouched down and shuffled closer, now almost face to face.
my sleeping beauty he thought, an unusually soft smile growing on his lips.
his touch transferred from your hair to your face as he traced along your features. cupping your cheeks, he winced as he felt a tightness starting to grow in his pants.
he stood up quickly, fighting every dirty thought and urge in his body to do something, mark something of yours, or leave a sign of his devotion.
no not now. now was not the right time.
he knew he had to leave before his self control ran out.
as yan coworker tiptoed softly back to the door, he glanced over his shoulder one last time, taking in the sight. he would be back, he knew it. whether that was on his lunch break or nights when you were out, someway he would visit this haven again.
with a heart half heavy for leaving so soon and half elated at the thought of seeing you again the next day, he slipped out the door.
see you soon darling.
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authors note: dear readers i know i promised a short story but i may of gotten a little carried away so that's why its a little longer... forgive me and let me know y’all’s thoughts in the ask box ♡
all works belong to and written by @agentsinopia
Q&A Event
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tojikai · 5 months ago
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Permanent Mark⁺ : FORLORN
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Grateful to @mikeyslvrr for commissioning and for the support~♡
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Pairing: Gojo x reader
Permanent Mark Masterlist
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, death, mentions of pregnancy, implied suicide
word count: 2.6k
a/n: this alternate storyline imagines what could have happened if Y/N had faced a different fate.
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He's merely a ghost, beseeching to be haunted by your echoes.
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I’ll make things right. I shouldn’t be too late, right? My Y/N and I will be fine. The moment she wakes up, I will apologize. I’ll tell her I messed things up. That I made the wrong decision. That I’m coming home with her. That I’ll never leave again. 
We’re gonna make it. 
We’re gonna make it. 
We’re gonna make it. 
“She didn’t make it.” 
Satoru’s steps halted. The world halted. He's been pacing back and forth in the hospital corridor. Despite the chaos of the people coming in and out of the hospital, the voices bouncing on the white walls, and the cries of families who want nothing but to go home with their loved ones, the ticking of Satoru’s wristwatch is still the loudest. 
It felt like every second added another boulder on his shoulder, making it harder to drag his feet on the tiled walls. Rie looked like she’d been awake all night when they’d only been here for a couple of minutes. Satoru could almost feel the blood behind his eyes, his nerves waiting to burst and he would be covered in it. 
Covered in blood, drenched in guilt, weighed down by regrets.
The doctor’s words reverberated inside his head. The roof of his mouth felt strangely hot as he heard cries behind him. Then, he was tackled to the ground. He didn’t even try to fight back, he just welcomed each blow that his best friend threw on his face, growling “You fucking bastard,” He could hear Rie screaming and his vision blurring as he struggled to stand up, “Y/N, let me see my Y/N.” It was an incoherent murmur as he tried to get to her door.
He was a bit dizzy from the blow and his knees were too weak to fight back. He felt like a bird with tied wings as two people restrained him from going to the room. Satoru could tell that his nose was bleeding but this is nothing compared to losing you. 
The irreversibility of his mistakes is now staring him right in the face and he has no choice but to stare back.
He can hear Suguru cursing him out while his tears bring forth realizations: Your parents were inside, after a long time of absence and months of separation from you, this is the first time that they’re seeing you again, not even breathing. The last thing you’d remember of them was how they never cared, neglecting you until you lost colors.
And Satoru… the last thing you'll remember of him will be his anger, his hatred, and the pain he caused you by turning your years of love into dust. The last thing you'll remember of him will be how he put someone else above you, even though he was the summit of your world.
The last thing you’ll remember is being unloved. By your family. By the man you love. 
Satoru tried to claw his way past the arms that were holding him back, begging for just a glimpse. He cannot believe that it’s true unless he sees you. But even if he does…his brain and his heart wouldn’t allow him to believe it too. The next thing made everything impossible for him as he lost strength in all of his limbs and eventually blacked out.
“Y/N.” He called out one last time before closing his eyes. 
—---------------------------------
Earlier
You can hear your sobs, and your heartbeats are like loud knocks in your ears. You sped up, vision spinning but this is nothing compared to the throbbing pain in your chest. You want to go as fast as you can, believing that maybe then your wheels would burn and dry all the tears that are running down your face. Everything around you was softened by the pools in your eyes.
Even the setting sun looked like a watercolor painting before you, the second brightest thing in your world.
You bit your lip to control your sadness from spilling out. You want to block out the words he said to you, you want to forget how he looked at you there. How those eyes you still love so much now look at you with such reproach, almost disdainful. Even at that moment, they still look so vibrant, enough to color a town. You let out a strained gasp, grasping your shirt as you come to a realization:
You will be stuck in this monochrome box as he paints someone else’s home. 
Before you knew it, the sun had disappeared and there was only darkness in front of you. You blinked away your tears but it didn’t work. Where am I driving? You asked yourself but it was too late to hit the brakes. For a very short moment—a split second even—your flesh trembled before you heard a loud crash. 
And then there was nothing. The sun was eaten up by that darkness in front of you and engulfed you along with it. Your body doesn’t feel like it belongs to you. You hear voices but the sound is distorted when they reach your ears. You couldn’t move. Slowly, you felt like you were sinking to the ground. The noises were getting faint and you could barely feel your heartbeat in your chest.
You slipped in and out of your consciousness, each time more chaotic than the last. There was the sound of the siren and a white dancing light pointing directly into your eyes. You can barely feel the air entering your lungs. Am I dying? You wanted to ask but your body was too numb. 
If you are, this is going to be your second death today. 
—---------------------------------
“Just let me be with her for a bit, Ma'am. Please,” Satoru didn't stop the tears from coming as he begged your mother. He knows he doesn't deserve it; he doesn't deserve to mourn you but there's nothing he wouldn't do. After everything that happened at the party, it all felt like a nightmare to him; something so unreal that up until now he still refuses to believe it.
His mother was with him during the burial, as he begged on his knees for a last moment. But your parents weren’t as soft as you. Even as he looked into your kind father’s eyes, he couldn’t find an ounce of pity. Why would he feel sorry for the man who tore his daughter apart? Out of all the hurtful things your mother has said, your father’s last words to Satoru are the ones that scarred him the deepest. It will haunt his ghost til its next life:
“I hope your guilt doesn’t consume you as completely as my daughter’s love for you did to her.”
Finding out about your pregnancy was another knife, twisting in his chest. The fact that you never found out was another bullet to his heart. So, you weren’t the only one he abandoned that day. Your heart wasn’t the only one he broke. It wasn’t just your own sadness you were carrying inside you but the unborn future’s lamentation too. 
Til the very end, the people looked at him as nothing but a man with clean hands and a blood-stained shirt. “Come to think of it, even in her last moments she saved you.” Suguru spat at his face when they ran into each other during the funeral. The main reason for the accident was your alcohol intoxication. But Suguru knows too damn well why it all happened.
The only one that wept with him was the sky. The thunders screamed the same accusations at him. The people will see his cries as tears of guilt but no one will understand how his heart died with you in that hospital bed. No one will know how the things he did will forever sleep with him under his pillows, hammering words into his head.
Rie is a strong woman, watching him on his knees, bawling his eyes out as he screamed his love for you to nothingness. She’s a tough woman, entering his room only to hear him label his relationship with her as a mistake, wailing for a do-over. She’s a brave woman who holds him in her arms, whispering her love for him only to be answered with murmurs of I’m sorry’s.
Rie is strong, but a month is too long to stay with someone who will forever yearn for another.
She was hoping for him to stop her, maybe just ask her to give him time, it wouldn’t have mattered how long but he never did. “I’m sorry.” He said, nodding as he traced the mouth of his cup. “Will you be fine?” She asked, first, out of concern and second, to allow a bit of time in hopes that he’d change his mind.
“No, but it’s alright.” He spoke, eyes void of emotion. They almost looked more grey rather than blue now. “Whatever that has happened is on me. I shouldn't have even let it happen.” She knows that he’s not just referring to the accident. His blunt confession of how his relationship with her was a mistake sends a chill down her spine and an ache in her entire being.
How could he so openly tell her that he regrets being with her? 
She guessed it was a small price to pay for taking part in breaking someone’s heart. And the larger bill was outside, lurking as she was faced with whispers in every company she tried working on, the continuous ringing of the numbers she called, and the neverending hours of one-sided conversations with her friends.
The rust of guilt will eat away at her bones as she tries to crawl back to where she came from.
Shoko was never the one to hold grudges. But for the longest time, she couldn’t talk to Satoru. She’d find herself spending most of her free time with you, even if she never got answers. Then she’d leave again like she always did before. If she regrets something, it’d be not being to be with you as much as she should be as a friend. Her job doesn’t allow for much time for rest.
Just like how it doesn’t allow enough time for mourning. 
“You need to start continuing your life. You’re just insulting Y/N being like that now.” She looked away as she lit a cigarette. She called Satoru over to her clinic today, worried about how his mother called her crying when he wouldn’t answer his phone. It’s almost been a year since your passing and she could barely recognize him. 
“Do you know where Suguru is?” He asked, voice hoarse as he licked his cracked lips. Shoko was grateful that his mother chose to take over his business. It’ll only fall down with him like this. He was breathing but barely alive. “Do not try to talk to him.” That’s the only thing she said, but Satoru already understands.
Suguru didn’t want to blame his friend when he was obviously devastated too. But hearing the doctor’s words that day, the first thing he thought of was that if Satoru hadn’t provoked it, you wouldn’t have left and driven drunk. He’d sound selfish if he said he was the most crushed of them all but how else does he cope with a loss of a love that never began?
The last time he’s been to your grave was on the burial day. He never went back again. He thought that maybe if he didn’t see it as much, his mind wouldn’t think of it like that. Maybe his mind wouldn’t remember your death. Maybe he can fool himself into thinking you’re just somewhere far away, working at your mother’s company.
“You don’t get to feel sad. You don’t get to feel sad as much as I do. Not when you already killed her before she even died in that accident.” He pulled at his friend's collar as tears streamed down their faces. “You don’t get to feel sad after what you’ve done, Satoru.” Suguru fears that even after years, he’d still feel resentment for his friend.
“If you weren’t planning on treating her well, you should’ve just let me love her instead, Satoru.” He let his shirt go along with the emotions he was hiding. “If you weren’t planning on keeping her, you should’ve just left her alone.” He whispered, stepping away as he turned his back to him, regaining his composure. This man is grieving too, he reminded himself.
The grief was heavier than the sea of blue in his eyes.
He looked so drained, like he died along with you and maybe he did, because staring into his eyes, Suguru couldn’t find his best friend anymore. When confronted by the uncontrollable materialization of the consequences of their actions, humans deteriorate from the inside.
He wanted to hug him, to cry with him, and let him put some of his heaviest feelings on him but he couldn't. “Live well, Satoru. Y/N wouldn’t want you like this,” He sniffed, running a hand down his face as he turned to his friend again, tapping his shoulder before stepping out. 
It’s so hard to feel bad for someone who brought the tragedy upon themselves.
Years will pass and Satoru remains the same, an empty skeleton of who he was before, a vessel of memories and the love you generously left, a cage of regret, guilt, and suffering that he harvested from bad seeds that he planted. “It shall pass,” The doctor said, passing him a blister pack, “You’ll feel better with time.” It just makes him want to laugh. The man doesn’t understand that what he needs can’t be found in this world.
He would lie awake for hours, with exhaustion gnawing at him but still his eyes remained stubbornly open. Reality was punishing him by keeping him awake, blocking out his only means of escape and portal to you. Drinking wasn’t a solution, it was more of a problem. There was this one time that he drank so much, he thought he was seeing you. 
His mother found him on his knees, his forehead touching the floor as he begged you to come back, apologizing to the air as his tears hit the tiles of his house. It’s no use, you will never come back and even then, his hallucinations of you were inanimate, unmoving, and cold. 
He gazed at a jar filled with wilting flowers on the table—some had lost their color, while others were on the verge of fading. Standing up, he fetched a new one in his jacket’s pocket and cut off its stem before carefully placing it with the others.
These flowers came from the bouquets that he left on your grave. Each time he’d visit, he’d take one flower with him and keep it in this jar. It’s his way of coping, thinking that he still has a piece of you with him. It felt both comforting and painfully inadequate. Satoru doubts that anything will ever change in his life. Even if each person on Earth introduces someone or something new to him, nothing will fill the void.
Satoru wondered if you saw him as others do: merely guilty, not genuinely in love. It’d be another blow to his already beaten-up heart. Listening to the ticking of the clock, his shadow cast on the wall of his room. The quiet was eerie; it had been for years. This house had lost its colors long ago. 
It is during these times when he remembers how you’d spent sleepless nights together, just soaking in the presence of one another. Maybe if he sleeps, he’d dream of how you used to rest your head on his chest. Taking the last of his pill, Satoru stared at his ceiling one last time.
As he closed his eyes, he prayed to wake up beside you. 
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borathae · 7 months ago
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moonlight
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"Taehyung asks you to sneak out with him and you end up making passionate love to him in a hayloft."
Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x f.Reader
Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut, Slice of Life Fluff
Warnings: a romantic horseback ride in the moonlight, passionate sex in a hayloft, soft but mean Dom!Taehyung, sub!Reader, listen he's a tease 100, neck kisses, body worshipping, breast worship, nipple play & sucking, oral sex (f.receiving), he licks her over her panties ngng, a very quick rimjob, orgasm control, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), dirty talk, praise, strength kink, good girl kink, he calls her his slut once, the title Sir falls like once, doggy style to pronebone, clit spanking with his cock, frotting, he kinda describes to her in vivid detail how he'd take her anal virginity jsjsjs, he is so unhinged and sexy, subby girl tears, he's the safest Dom, a huge creampie, cuddly aftercare, they're so in love <3
Wordcount: 6.8k
a/n: this is the second story based on my fellow tae girlies' wishes. i needed to write something about them in a hayloft. i would say that it takes place three days after they returned from their magical holiday in Caerula Luna. have fun besties hehe 💙
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You haven’t been asleep for long when someone shakes you awake again. You open your eyes, meeting glowing ruby eyes. 
“Who are you?” you feel awake instantly, tensing up in fright.
“It’s me. Tae.”
“Oh god Tae, you just scared me so bad”, you whine, relaxing slowly as the shock still sits deep in your sleepy mind.
“Why?” he asks, blinking his eyes at you in the darkness. It is rather hypnotizing to watch his two glowing orbs appear and disappear repeatedly. 
“Because you shook me awake and then stared at me in complete darkness with your red eyes like a creep.”
“Ah yes, you cannot see in the darkness. Forgive me, I forgot”, he says and lays himself on top of you to reach your bedside lamp.
You laugh, patting his butt. 
“Gosh you silly.” The lights turn on. “No Tae, too bright.”
Taehyung ignores you, straddling your lap. He giggles, rocking his hips back and forth while his hands dimple the pillow on each side of your head. He is in a flowy blouse and skin tight trousers, wearing jewellery. Almost as if he dressed up for you.
You let out a fond scoff and throw your arm over your eyes, rubbing his thigh mindlessly with your other hand.
“You’re lucky you’re cute”, you mumble with a smile on your lips.
Taehyung leans down and places affectionate kisses along your jawline and neck, eliciting purrs of contentment from you. He also stubs you with the tip of his nose every now and then. 
“I truly have good reasons for waking you”, he speaks softly between kisses.
“Mhm, they better be good”, you are joking, making him smile against your skin. He dances his fingertips along your arms until he has your hands under them. He takes them, holding them tightly as he straightens up.
“Do you want to sneak out with me?”
“Huh?”
“Sneak out with me. Please.” 
“Sneak out? Who are we sneaking out from?”
Taehyung shrugs his shoulders, grinning boyishly.
“Just no one in particular. It sounds more exciting this way.”
You really love his imaginative mind and how he finds so much joy in role playing. Not only in sexual ways, but in general. Taehyung really loves to daydream about different scenarios and then act them out with one of you. He is so adorable.
“Fine.” You slide your hands from his hold to caress his thighs. “Let’s assume that we’re sneaking out, where are we going?”
“That you will only find out once you come with me.”
You laugh.
Taehyung grins. 
“Okay fine, you’ve got my interest piqued. I’ll come with you.”
“Yippie”, Taehyung exclaims and rolls off of you, picking you up bridal style.
“Tae, oh god warn me next time”, you laugh, throwing your head back as he twirls with you.
He sets you down soon after, taking you by your hand to lead you outside. Your journey takes you out of your wing and the estate. His horse is waiting at the end of the stairs.
“What’s Starlight doing here?”
“She shall be our method of escape. Now may I?”
“What are you gonna do?”
Taehyung places his hands on your hips, “allow me to show you.”
“Okay?”
He picks you up and lifts you onto the horse so you were sitting on it sideways. He keeps an arm around your thighs, mounting the saddle in a skilful movement. 
So now you are sitting in front of him while he keeps you steady with his arms. He meets your giddy gaze, giving you a smile.
“Shall we escape, my darling?”
“Yeah, let’s escape”, you say, resting your head against his chest.
Taehyung clicks his tongue to get the horse to move. The horse trots off, walking slowly so you would have it comfortable.
“Oh god.” You snuggle closer, giggling. “This is this craziest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Isn’t it so wonderful?”
“Yeah, it’s so romantic.”
“Indeed it is.” He agrees and sighs. “Oh darling, the night is wonderful. I am so delighted to spend it with you.”
“Me too. Where are we going?”
“Just someplace no one will ever find us.”
You smile. That doesn’t sound bad at all.
Your journey takes you away from the estate, past meadows and through the forest until another meadow is before your eyes. In the middle of it, an old barn is standing, waiting to be used again.
“Do you see the building in the distance?” Taehyung asks you.
“Are we going there?”
“Indeed we are. We must take shelter before the weather changes.”
You look up at the sky. It is so clear that one can see every single star in the universe. You feel yourself smiling. Taehyung is being playful again.
“Thankfully we found it when we did. I would have hated to get wet.”
“Indeed”, Taehyung agrees, sneaking a glance at you. He is visibly giddy because you are playing along.
Taehyung helps you off Starlight once you have reached the barn.
“Do you perhaps want to close your eyes for me?” he asks.
“Don’t tell me you have something prepared”, you say, closing your eyes.
“Perhaps I have”, he says and takes your hand, “open them once I tell you to.”
“Okay I will. Gosh Tae, you’re getting me so excited right now.”
He chuckles, leading you and his horse inside the barn. He ties Starlight to one of the pillars then wraps his arm around your waist.
“Don’t frighten, I will jump.”
“Ju-aah!”
Your feet leave the ground as Taehyung leaps up onto the second floor. He lands without sound, setting you down carefully.
“Holy moly, that was so scary”, you curse.
“Forgive me, but the good news is that you can open your eyes now.”
You open your eyes to dozens and dozens of candles illuminating a small area of the hay loft. Taehyung laid out a blanket on top of the hay and made it even more comfortable with pillows. 
“Tae”, you gasp, looking at him in flabbergasted breathlessness.
“Surprise.” He smiles. “You mentioned how you wanted to try love making in a hay loft and so I figured that I could fulfil this wish of yours.”
“Tae, oh my god…”
“Obviously only if you wish the same. I brought many blankets so if you only want to talk or hug or fall asleep again, we can do so as well. I merely thought that we could do what we couldn’t do at your grandparents’ home.”
He studies your features shyly.
“What’s the matter? Why are you not saying anything? Do you not like it?”
You shake your head and close the distance, hugging him tightly.
“I love it so much. I’m just speechless because it’s so nice. Oh Tae, I love it so much.”
Taehyung hugs you back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your pulse is heightened. 
“You do?”
“I do. So much. Gosh, you are so cute.” You melt into him. “I can’t believe you prepared all of this. It’s so romantic. And beautiful. And nice. And amazing.”
He breaks away just so he can gaze at you, holding both your hands as he does.
“Do you like it?”
“I love it so much. Gosh Tae, thank you so much. I appreciate it so much.”
He smiles, guiding your hands to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles.
“Based on how often you said so much, I can sense your honesty”, he jokes, making you laugh.
“I am. I’m honest.”
His eyes soften. “I love you very much, my darling.”
“I love you too, Tae darling.”
You and he gaze at the other, sharing silence. You are the one to break said silence, showing him your giddiness by lowering your eyes.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, it’s just weird to know that we’re going to have sex now.”
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“It’s not that. It’s just…” You meet his eyes. “I’m more of a spontaneous lover. I don’t know how to start stuff like this.”
“I see. Shall I start it then?”
“Yes.”
“May I help you relax?”
You feel tingles in your stomach. Yup, he is definitely doing magic already. With a fluttering pulse you nod your head.
Taehyung closes the distance with a kiss to your neck. You roll your head to the side, sighing his name. His kiss feels so good when it promises sweet love making. His big, tender hands let go of yours so they can travel along your torso. Being touched likes this truly shows you how thin the fabric of your sleeping clothes truly is. The heat of his touch is sinking into the deepest fibres of your body, exciting you comfortably.
“You have the most beautiful neck, my darling”, Taehyung whispers.
“Tae…”
“Mhm”, he bites your earlobe playfully, making you gasp and clutch his waist. It brings in his flowy shirt, showing your hands how small his waist actually was. “Allow me to help you get comfortable.”
“You can do whatever you want to me.”
He smiles, squeezing your waist, “mhm, don’t test me. I might be tempted to get rough with you.”
He is being playful, making you giggle and squirm. He definitely knows how to get you into the right mindset.
He chuckles and presses his lips to your ear.
“Jump.”
You do so, sighing when he catches you in his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist, burying your hands deep in his dark locks. They feel a little cold from the nightly ride, hugging your fingers softly. 
He is gazing up at you, giving you his giddiest smile, “my beautiful. You are so incredibly beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful too. Oh Tae”, you say, claiming his lips in a kiss.
Taehyung sighs, kissing you back eagerly. He craved the taste of you and the softness of your lips. 
Lost in the kiss, he carries you to the blanket. He kneels down, making sure to lie you down carefully. Once you are on your back, he places himself over you, kissing you like this while his hips move against you carefully. 
It isn’t long that you have to break the kiss to gasp and look at him. Your legs squeeze his waist, your fingers fall from his hair to grasp his upper arms instead.
“Is this alright for me to do?” he makes sure, caressing your cheeks.
“Yes”, you sigh, rolling your hips into him. He shivers from the sensation, moaning quietly. He is getting hard. It turns you on a lot.
“You are so beautiful. Oh darling, you are so beautiful”, he whispers, making your heart race. 
“Do you love me?”
“I love you like the moon loves the sun. Because without her, he wouldn’t shine.”
“Oh god”, you giggle, hiding away in his arm. “Taehyung, oh my god. This was so romantic.” 
He smiles fondly, kissing your newly exposed neck and jawline.
“You are adorable, my sweetest”, he whispers and moves the collar of your dress aside so his lips could worship your shoulder and collarbone. He caresses the parts he isn’t currently kissing. His fingertips are so tender against your body.
Only once he truly kissed every inch of the exposed spot, does he move on to another. He guides your head into a different position with his hand gently around your throat. 
The way you gaze up at him makes his heart feel alive. Submission. The kind of safe, warm submission only someone dearly trusted can bring out.
“Do you feel good?” he asks.
“Yes”, you sigh.
“That makes me happy. Relax, my darling. I have you”, he says and exposes your other shoulder to shower you in the adoration you deserve. It is the same than before and yet different because you beg him for more very soon. “What do you want?”
“Can you touch my boobs?” 
“Of course, everything my darling wants. I am here to serve you.” 
And so it happens that Taehyung kisses your exposed shoulder and sucks hickeys to your neck and collarbone while his left hand cradles your breasts. He massages them gently over the thin material of your sleeping gown, dragging the warmest tingles to the surface. He squeezes them as tenderly as possible and rubs your nipples when the affection brings them to the surface.
“Oh god”, you get out breathlessly.
“Is this good for you?” 
“Yes…”
“Good, that’s good. You are so beautiful, my darling sweetheart.” 
Taehyung fixes the collar of your dress before he takes another path. He wouldn’t want you to feel chilly in the nightly air. He kisses his way to your chest, moaning in delight because there is nothing better than worshiping you. You should know how remarkable you are. Taehyung is still struck in awe about your magical potential, how you took them to another realm and gave them a chance at being human again. He is grateful for it, grateful that he got to experience racing heartbeats and proper warmth again. And he needs you to feel the appreciation he harbors for you. There is so much of it. And it is never ending.
“My beautiful darling. How I adore you.” 
He is careful at first, only brushing his lips over the paths of your breasts. But you moan and sigh so sweetly and your nipples are so hard each time he brushes against them, that Taehyung cannot control himself any longer. He wraps his lips around one of them, sucking and licking the swollen bud through your dress. 
“Ahng”, the noise you let out assures him that he is doing a good job. You arch your back, chasing the fiery sensation. The fabric in his mouth is soaked entirely, his mouth is so warm. You can feel each lick. But the true peak of his affection is when he releases your nipple to suck on the other and the coldness of the air soaks the wet fabric. The spot is freezing, forcing goosebumps to the surface of your sensitive skin. 
“Tae…” 
Taehyung purrs happily as he sucks on your nipple, sliding his fingers to the other to massage it. It is cold to the touch. The fabric sticks to it and gives him a perfect feel of its shape. So he merely brushes his fingertips over it, giving it minimal attention so you can continue to shiver underneath him. 
It isn’t until Taehyung is stuck in the blissful moment of changing sides with both hands playing with your nipples that you stop him. You tug on a bundle of his hair, whimpering softly.
“Stop, please.”
He sits up. Your legs are around his hips that way.
“Did you change your mind?” 
You shake your head vigorously, “it, it makes me want to cum.”
He smiles, “well this…oh darling, this”, he leans down again, nipping at your breasts, “this is indeed a predicament. What should I do with you, mhm?” 
The teasing tone in his honey voice makes you shudder.
“Oh god, Tae.”
“May I continue? Is this your wish?”
“Yes”, you whimper, arching your back.
“How wonderful. Relax, you are in safe hands”, he whispers sweetly and gives you time to breathe by guiding his kisses to your stomach instead. He moans and sighs, worshiping every inch of it because you deserve to feel loved. 
He loves you so much and he hopes that through his kisses and touches he can make you experience it. Oh, how he adores you. How he wants to make you feel good. 
It isn’t long and he has reached your legs. Your sleeping gown ends a little over your knees. He stops, playing with the hem of it.
“May I lift it?” 
“Yes”, you answer him, lifting your hips eagerly to which he laughs and pins them down again.
“Patience. I shall tell you when you need to raise them.”
“Are you taking it slow?”
“Of course I am, my darling”, he assures you with teasing playfulness in his voice, smiling against your skin when you whine in impatience. But he doesn’t let you rush him. He kisses your thighs slowly and thoroughly. He sucks hickeys into your skin, gives the softest parts gentle love bites, guides his hands over your silken skin. He wants you to feel breathless from all the love he pours into his affection. 
And you do. You feel breathless, bucking your hips up in impatience. Your pussy aches. You haven't felt her throb and pulse as much as she does right now in a long time. You experienced the tenderness of his lips all over your body and you need it on your pussy. Now. Instantly. Right this second.
“Please.”
“Please what? You have to tell me what you need”, he coos, head hidden in your dress.
“Lick me.”
“Like this?” he taunts, guiding his tongue down your inner thigh. He is doing this on purpose. He is acting oblivious just to get you to tell him. He is playing with you because he is mean like that.
“No”, you mewl, shivering.
“What possibly could you mean then?”
“Oh god Tae, please just lick my pussy”, you beg, fucking the air aggressively. 
He chuckles, pinning you down easily.
“You are adorable.” 
“Please.”
“Adorable. You are just adorable”, he rasps and places his mouth against your pussy. He darts his tongue out, licking a thick stripe along your sensitive heat.
“Aah a-ah, aah, aah, a-ah”, you are noisy instantly, twisting the blanket because you cannot twist his hair.
It is important to mention that you are still wearing your panties at this point of the night. And that Taehyung doesn’t let this stop him from tasting you. He sucks out your taste, purring deeply because there is no taste more saccharine than that of your heat. Especially when it is soaked deep into your panties and he needs to work for it. He sucks and sucks and sucks until the fabric is soaked in his spit. 
“So sweet. My darling’s so sweet”, he lulls and presses his tongue against your clothed clit. He uses his neck muscles to move his head, grinding the flat of his hot tongue against your clothed heaven. 
“Oh god, oh god, oh god”, you are out of breath, completely flabbergasted by what he makes you feel. The sensation of his skin is missing, but everything else is there. His heat, the slick wetness, his moans. And because he is soaking your panties, the parts he doesn’t lick are cold in the night air. You are in a constant state of different temperatures. Hot mouth and cold panties. Your pussy weeps to make sense of it. Quite frankly, you want to weep as well. 
“I can’t get enough. Mhm darling, you taste so good. So sweet. Darling, oh darling, my darling”, he babbles between his licks, humping the floor needily. 
He will make you climax. You didn’t think it possible that something like this could make you orgasm, but thinking back, you are foolish. Of course he could make you orgasm this way. It is Taehyung and Taehyung will always show you new ways of how sex can feel. It is never boring with him. 
Although tonight, you wish that he would be just a little bit boring. You are burning up and it’s so unfair that you are already close. 
“Stop please, you’re making me cum” you beg him, trying to grasp him through the fabric of your dress.
Taehyung growls playfully, breaking away from you even if you instantly whine for more.
“Adorable. You are simply adorable”, he coos and appears from your dress to smile at you. His lips are puffy, his hair ruffled from being buried under your dress. 
“Why are you like this?” you keen, wiping at your eyes so you wouldn’t cry.
“What do you mean?”
“I, I don’t know. Oh god, Tae.”
“Did you like how I licked you?” he is taunting you.
You spill tears, making grabby hands at him. He places himself over you instantly, holding your hands on each side of your head. 
“Yeah, liked it”, you sniffle, “Tae, I feel droopy.”
“You look droopy. And beautiful. So very beautiful”, he praises, kissing the tip of your nose, “don’t be scared. Allow it to happen. I am here.”
You sink into the droopy headspace further. You are completely his’ right now, so vulnerable that it would break your heart if he stopped it. But he doesn’t stop it. Because as much as you are floating in a safe subspace, Taehyung is floating in a warm Domspace. He loves every second with you, feeling high with you. 
“I love you”, he tells you.
“I love you too”, you tell him.
“So beautiful”, he says and disappears between your legs again. He lifts your hips with one hand, using the other to take off your panties. He gives them a deep sniff and a kiss, “so sweet”, then places them aside. He uses the position to push the dress over your butt, letting it punch around your waist. Only then does he lower your hips again, lifting your legs next to prop them up. You are spread like this, exposed to his eyes and the cold air. 
It is sinful how he is still entirely dressed while you are already showing him your parts most private. It is as if he is inspecting you. You can’t breathe properly at this aspect. This is so arousing to you.
“I know that I am repeating myself, but you are so beautiful, my darling. Look at you. Look at the shape of you, the beautiful colours of you, how wet you are. Oh, I want to treat your petals like they deserve to be treated.”
You clench around nothing. Taehyung delights at the view.
“How adorable. May I touch?” 
“Yes, please”, you beg him, spreading your legs further.
Taehyung places his left hand on your lower tummy, using his fingers to spread your pussy. He traces the shapes of you with his right hand, using only his fingertips. 
You are mewling instantly. You are aware that you sound needy and desperate, but you can’t help yourself. He makes you sensitive and each touch he places feels like the one able to break you. 
“How soft you are. How warm. How wet”, he rasps, gazing at you, “does this feel good, my darling?” 
He pulls you apart just a little more and rubs your newly exposed clit in circular motions. He makes sure to put special emphasis whenever his fingers rub up and down. 
“Yes ah, aaah Tae…”
“How beautiful, oh so beautiful.”
You are so wet that his clit massage is easy. And he makes you feel so good that you keep leaking more and more slick. His initial plan was to massage your other parts as well, but you are moaning so sweetly with his finger on your clit that Taehyung doesn’t have the heart to move away. He massages you eagerly, keeping track of your orgasm by looking at your glistening entrance.
Whenever you get close, you clench it involuntarily. He learned this about you from paying attention to whenever you played. 
“Keep breathing for me, there we go. Such a good girl”, he talks to you each time you get a little restless. And it works at first. It works perfectly, but soon all the breathing in the world couldn’t bring you down again. You clench. Taehyung’s only option is to pull away. 
“No please don’t edge me anymore. Please”, you wail, shaking in desperation. He has been playing with you for too long. He kept telling you to breathe, slowed down whenever you felt it coming closer. It’s been too long. You just want to cum.
“Breathe darling. I know it hurts, so I need you to breathe.”
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“You asked me to relax you and so I did.”
“What?” 
You meet his eyes, having to gulp. Crazed playfulness is burning in them. It is as if he is fucking you raw with just his gaze.
“My darling, your pretty cunt has never looked more ready to take me. Look at how wet you are, how swollen your petals are, how empty your hole looks. You are so perfectly prepared. I merely did what you asked of me.”
Taehyung is normally such a gentleman that you sometimes forget that behind this mannered mask a huge, nasty pervert is hiding. You are reminded again and it’s messing you up.
He is right. You are empty and swollen and wet and you need him to fill you. Now. Instantly. Right this second.
“Please fuck me, please.” You sit up and begin tugging at his clothes. “Please fuck me, please Tae. Take it off, please.”
“Calm down darling, calm down”, he chuckles, guiding your hands away, “I would hate to have to tie up your grabby hands. Let me and be patient, yes?” 
“I want to be fucked.”
“I know darling, but the more you hinder me, the longer you have to wait. Are you going to be my good girl now, mhm?”
“Yes Sir”, you get out obediently because he managed to put you back in your place with just his words.
“There we go. That’s my good girl. You know, the better you behave, the harder I will fuck you. Only good behaviour will get you rewarded”, he talks as he undresses, riling you up even more. He takes off his pants first.
You ogle his cock. It is thrashing around, leaking droplets of his excitement. You want to suck him off, but you hold back. You need to be his good girl.
Taehyung doesn’t pay mind to his cock, unlacing his shirt so he could pull it off. He talks as he does it.
“Although don’t misunderstand, shall you misbehave, I shall fuck you just as hard. I will simply stop listening to your pleas for a break.” He pulls his shirt over his head. “But I am certain that you want to be my good girl tonight. Am I wrong in my-”
He forgets to talk. To breathe. To even properly function. You are naked, presenting yourself to him on all fours. You are arching your back, showing your glistening pussy and hole to him.
“What the fuck?” is all he gets out as his shirt slides from his weakened fingers.
You have him cursing. Your position has the desired effect on him. You mewl in realisation, sticking your ass out more. 
“What, what”, he stutters, gasping for air, “what…dar-darling, what are you do-doing?” 
“Please fuck me.” 
“Holy fuck”, he runs his hand through his own hair in distress, “darling, I should be so angry at you. Oh you drive me insane, you perfect goddess”, you gets out and attacks you with bites all over your buttocks.
You giggle, fleeing him with minimal effort.
“I’m going to eat you. You are too perfect.” He babbles between his eager bites. "Perfect. So fucking perfect”, he growls and sticks his tongue into your hole just long enough that you start gasping. He couldn’t help himself. When you present yourself so deliciously, Taehyung just needs to steal a taste. 
He doesn’t linger for long because ever since you presented yourself like this, his cock started aching unbearably and he really needs to be inside you. 
He still manages to get you breathless and twisting the blanket when he pulls back. He closes in, slapping his heavy cock against your pussy. Gently. Right against your clit to make you flinch with each spank. 
“One day I shall fuck your beautiful ass full of my seed”, he lulls his words, twitching each time his cockhead slaps against your clit. It feels just as good for him as it does for you.
“Taehyung, ah Taehyung”, you moan as your head begins to turn. You didn’t even know how much you needed your clit spanked until he gave it to you. And to make matters even worse, Taehyung gives you breaks by rubbing his cock through your puffy folds. He does so until you gasp, exchanging the grinds with new spanks. He will definitely make you climax if he keeps this going.
“I’ll play with you all day, make you wear different toys and take you out on a date. I’d make you carry a bag with all the toys I’d work up your tolerance with. Just imagine. I’d take you to the bathroom and make you bend over so I can exchange the damned toy in your ass.” He growls the last sentence, spanking your clit especially hard.
You flinch forward, twisting the blanket. You can only mewl because all your concentration is on not cumming accidentally. He grinds against you after the spank, staring at your ass with darkened eyes.
“Just imagine once we reached the last toy of the evening. How big it would be, how stretched out you’d be. You would feel it with each step, would feel it when I sit you down in my car to drive you home. By the time, I have you in my wing, you’d be fucking begging for my cock. Fuck darling”, he grits his teeth, huffing out air. “Look at what you are doing to me. You have me cursing and spitting such disgusting things.” 
He spanks your clit again. Doing so over and over and over…he makes you cum. It’s going to happen. You can’t hold back anymore and so you ready yourself. A mistake, because Taehyung picks up on it instantly and pulls away. 
The wail of agony you let out almost makes him feel bad. Almost. He leans down and kisses your spine, rubbing your sides gently.
“Breathe darling. Be my good girl and breathe”, he speaks sweetly again. The once feral Taehyung from before is tamed. “I am sorry for losing my composure. That must have been scary for you.”
You sob. He is actually making fun of you. Holy fuck. This is just a game to him.
“Please”, you beg weakly.
“Please what? I told you darling, I can only give you what you want when you are using your words. Please don’t disobey me, my darling.”
You shudder. He is so good with his words.
“Fuck me. I can’t do this anymore. I need your cock. Please.”
“There we go. See? It wasn’t that hard to use your words”, he speaks sickeningly sweet and presses his tip against your puffy entrance. He applies no pressure and he is already slipping inside, whimpering in surprise because your pussy is practically sucking him in. 
“Thank you”, you mewl, pressing back into him until he sits inside you entirely. It isn’t often that he fits inside completely, making you sob his name because it feels so good to you. 
“Do, do I hurt?” he stutters, fighting with his air. He wants to move, but holds back for your sake. He couldn’t live with himself if he knew that he was causing you discomfort.
“No, it feels so good, please move.”
“I am keeping my, my cock human. To make it seem as…as if we…are…” he barely gets his words out as he rolls his hips into you. He grasps your hips, guiding them so it would feel the best for both of you. “Heavens, it is difficult to talk.”
“You don’t have to”, you squeak out.
“I don’t, good”, he says and moans, rolling his head back sensually, “just tell me that you feel good.”
“I do. I feel so good.”
“Darling…You feel good too, so good…” 
The sex becomes more intense now that you got rid of the pressure of talking. When you and Taehyung are like this, it is impossible to talk and knowing that it is okay to only moan makes this feel like an acid trip. He fucks into you deep and hard, moaning and growling while you answer him in high pitched squeaks and ecstatic sobs. 
The wooden planks feel hard under your knees and against the cheek you are squishing down on them. The blanket makes it comfortable.
“Are your knees alright? Is it not too hard?” Taehyung still checks up on you because he is starting to feel the hardness of the boards as well.
“Good. Is good. Tae, I love this”, you mewl, throbbing around him.
“I love it too. Such a good girl. You are taking me so well”, he praises and looks at where you are connecting. He pulls out completely, spanks your hole just once then pushes back inside, growling deeply at the sinful view. He has you even puffier than before, his cock is so thick inside you that it squeezes out your juices. Taehyung buries himself into you until his crotch sits against your pussy and you can soak his pubes with your sweet nectar. 
“You are getting me so messy”, he lulls and grabs your buttocks to spread you on him. The view is so arousing to him. You on his cock while your soft body jiggles each time he slams his hips into you.
Something happened to Taehyung. You have no idea what, but the way he fucks you suddenly feels way too good. You can barely breathe or stay on your knees. Constant waves of hot electricity shoot through your entire body and the warmth between your legs makes you weep.
What you aren’t aware of is that Taehyung found his composure again. He may have been lost in the sensation at first, but he found his control again. And now he is going to bring you to ruin. The view of him fucking your pretty cunt motivates him. The constant squelching of your juices and the sensarion of them on his dick makes him want to fuck you better just to increase them. The ecstatic sounds you can’t control from coming out, urge him to keep them going. 
Taehyung is back and he is going to make sure that you lose yourself completely. He slides his right hand to your front and pinches your clit between his fingers so he can roll it quickly.
You scream, collapsing on the ground. Taehyung lets you, but pulls up your hips so he can still reach your clit. The position tightens you and he has to growls from the deepest parts of his stomach to bear the heaven you make him feel. 
“Taehyung, Taehyung please. Taehyung too much. Taehyung”, you sound panicked, kicking the floorboards as best as your pinned down legs allow you to. 
“Don’t be scared. I’m here. Let go my darling, let go”, he encourages you, rolling your clit between his fingers. 
“You’ll keep going afterwards”, you wail.
“Of course I will.”
The aspect of being overstimulated is scaring you, but you can’t hold back anymore. It’s been too many times he denied you. You have to cum.
You break with a scream of his name. 
“Yes! Good girl”, he exclaims, fucking you gently as you shake and writhe. He knows exactly when to speed up again. He doesn’t miss the window for even a millisecond, drilling into you at the perfect time to completely ruin you. 
You wail his name, clawing at the boards as he makes you see stars. You genuinely only exist for pleasure right now. He fucks you so good and with such precision that you would dissolve if he stopped right now. You were scared of the overstimulation but now you need it as if it was your air. 
Taehyung holds you down with both hands. He knows your clit is swollen enough that his rough thrusts are enough to stimulate it as well. You are sucking him off with how tightly you are squeezing him. It messes him up to the point where he can’t pretend to be proper anymore.
“You are such a perfect slut. Keep fucking screaming like that. Oh, I’m going to fill you up until you can’t hold it in anymore. Hear me? I’m going to make you my pretty cumslut.”
“I can’t hold it anymore, please take it out of me”, you wail, meaning something entirely different. He is going to make you squirt, but you can’t let go because of the squeezed position. 
“My cock?” 
“No, no the, the liquid.”
“Liquid?”
You can’t be blamed. Your brain is dead. Liquid is all you could think of.
“Please”, you cough out a sob, “please make it stop. I can’t take it out.”
“Oh! Darling, just tell me”, he finally understands and pulls you back onto your knees, pressing down on your clit to finally set you off. 
You squeak as it happens, shaking against your will as you spray it everywhere.
“There we go, fucking wet yourself. I’m sorry for not noticing sooner. I bet you must have felt so full. That’s my good girl, let it all out.” 
His rough fucking makes it so that it goes everywhere and it feels so good. Such relief you haven’t felt in a long time. He is right. You felt so full and it’s finally leaving you. 
“Urgh, I can’t hold back like this. This is really turning me on, darling”, Taehyung gets out between his gritted teeth.
“I want your cum please”, you allow him.
“Thank you, darling thank you”, he moans and throws his head back, emptying his plumb balls deep inside you. The strength with which it shoots out of him and the masses he produces, are indicators that he was truly human no more. For just a second you feared for the strength of your cervix as he shot his sticky cum against it with such force that you could feel it. If you didn’t feel fucked already, the way he stuffs you does the rest. 
He pulls out after his high, moaning with you when big dollops of his seed leak out of you. With how well he fucked your pussy, it is unavoidable that your lose hole can’t hold it in. 
“Sorry”, you still apologise, trying to clench.
“Don’t. Relax. I’ll clean you up later”, he assures you and drops down beside you, pulling you with him so you are resting on his chest.
“It’s going everywhere.”
“I told you that it is alright. I have an eager tongue. I can clean whatever mess you make.”
“Oh god, Tae”, you finally melt into him, letting yourself relax even if that means his cum is seeping out of you in a constant trickle.
“Doesn’t that feel better? To relax and to let it happen?” he asks, caressing the back of your head.
“Yes, better. Good”, you sigh, melting into a puddle of giddiness. You feel so safe with him.
“That’s what I like to hear. Relax, my darling”, he whispers and kisses the crown of your head. “How are you feeling otherwise?”
“Good”, you whisper and shiver, “oh god, I feel so giddy, this was so good.”
“It was incredible”, he rolls to his side so you were nuzzled into him, “I am so proud of you. You took me like such a good girl. I loved every second with you.”
You gaze up at him, spilling new tears when he wipes your old ones with such tenderness and care.
“I feel so safe with you”, you squeak out.
“You are safe with me. I promise you”, he says honestly and kisses your forehead, “my darling girl. Oh, how I want to treat you right.”
“You do. You treat me so right.”
He smiles, kisses your forehead again.
“That is good to hear.”
“I’m so happy that we went on this trip. I feel so much safer with you.”
“You do?” 
“Yes. Yes, like, like I felt when we first started out. I was so scared back then, so confused and helpless, but you were my safe space. I feel like this again when I’m with you.”
“Oh.” Taehyung lowers his head. Tears escape him.
“Why are you crying?” you gasp, wiping them instantly.
“Because I wished for you to trust me like this again for ages. What you and I had back then was magical to me. I feel so happy knowing that we have it back.” 
“Oh Tae, you are so sweet.”
“Thank you for saying this. Oh sweetest”, he kisses your forehead, “I am grateful for this trip as well. I feel so much closer to you as well as Kook and Yoongi.”
“Me too”, you say and giggle.
He giggles with you.
“But now, you must tell me how it was. How did you like your first time in a hayloft?” he asks afterwards.
You wiggle in his arms happily.
“I actually kinda forgot that we are in a hayloft.”
“You did? How sad”, Taehyung pouts before he reaches over you to get something. Moments later you have a few pieces of hay in your hair and one of it poking your forehead as he tickles your face with it.
“Tae, what is that?” you cackle, escaping him with zero effort. Quite frankly, you are snuggling into him.
“The proper hayloft experience. You have something in your hair, darling. Let me get it for you.”
“Yes, because you put it there”, you laugh, squeaking in laughter soon after when Taehyung rolls you into the hay and begins kissing your neck.
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