#picked the skin off around a finger now it's fresh raw skin and it HURTS OBVIOUSLY

[cowardlycowboys]

don't have money for nails but I need them because my fingers hurt so bad (can't keep them out of my mouth)

[rememberwren]

A Girl (Not Mine) || 1

Ghost is a little obsessed with Soap and a lot obsessed with Soap's girlfriend--you.

About this: ghoap/fem!reader, suspension of disbelief regarding anything military related is actually necessary for enjoyment, canon-typical trauma for Simon, intrusive thoughts, slut shaming, voyeurism, fingering, accidentally seeing nudes not meant for you, poor writing unless you squint, try squinting. 4k

-

“I’m so glad I got a girl to think of, 

Even though she isn’t mine.”

-

The first time Johnny mentions you, the 141 is fresh from a month-long leave.

Ghost has a love-hate relationship with time spent off duty. He’d like to enjoy it—to do fuck all, to hike through Clayton Vale twice in a day if it suits him, to drink tea for every meal. But all leave does is remind him of the glaring emptiness in his life, the one he usually fills with violence. So he spent the month climbing up the walls and crawling out of his skin, waiting to be called back like a dog brought to heel. 

Here was his comeuppance for craving something to fucking do instead of relaxing the way Price had told him to do. Now they were on their way to San Lorenzo in Ecuador dealing with Ghost’s least favorite flavor of criminal: drug cartels. 

It’s too close to Mexico. Too close to that which he would forget gladly if it didn’t come with the loss of so many valuable skill sets. He’s crawling out of his skin for a whole new reason, watching the water fly by beneath them, deep in memories. 

Ghost takes all those feelings, fears, remembrances and swallows them whole. Lets them sink to a sour, dark place in his belly. He sits tense on the helo, still except for the rise and fall of his chest, his rifle a familiar weight across his knees. Sometimes he has to shut his eyes, swallowing against the rising nausea. 

He only has half an ear on Garrick and Johnny’s conversation beside him, but it is all he needs to follow along. 

“—lass of my own now,” Johnny is saying around a laugh, his accent thick enough to chafe at Ghost’s skin in a way he doesn’t want to examine, one that leaves him feeling raw but not necessarily hurt. “So no more picking up the barflies back in Hereford.”

“She making an honest man out of you, Tav?” 

“Aye, you could say that.” Johnny sounds proud of the fact. It all is so far from anything Simon has experienced in his life that he feels no distant stirring of empathy, not even a muted sense of familiarity in the words. Honest men do not exist. 

Not to mention, Simon’s never had a woman (willingly) and he never will. 

“You love her?” Garrick asks, earnestly interested to hear the answer. Ghost couldn’t care less.

“Aye. There’s something special about her.” 

“What, she’s cool with anal?”

Johnny crows with laughter, and now Ghost does feel something: annoyance, cloying, creeping up his spine like a spider in a web headed for the wiggling maggot of his brain. 

“Will you two ever shut up?” he snaps. “Not a moment’s fucking peace since we boarded.”

“Sorry LT,” Johnny says, sounding genuinely apologetic. Ghost cuts his eyes toward the other man, assessing for honesty. Johnny’s face is too expressive: brows lifted, eyes wide and earnest, mouth tipped into a tiny grimace, like the thought of irritating Ghost gives him real pain. Between the two of them, Ghost can’t help but think that it’s Johnny who needs a mask if he wants to survive in the world. 

Ghost doesn’t have the energy for this. He goes back to watching the scenery pass by. They are over trees now: thick lush jungle, the scent of which he associates with pain—plenty of which was his own. Plenty of which he caused to others. 

“What about you, LT?” Johnny asks, calling out over the sound of the helicopter blades. “Do you have a woman back home?”

Ghost lets his head turn, slow and dangerous. Johnny’s audacity never fails to surprise him. “What do you think, Johnny?”

“Honestly?” 

“Go on, then.”

“You look like if yeh’ve got a woman, she’s probably locked in yer basement.” 

(right where she’d belong.)

Garrick slaps Johnny’s thigh, his face mottled with panic. He hisses under his breath, something like, There are faster ways to die, Tav! Less painful ways, too, Ghost thinks. He fixes Johnny with a dead stare. The silence stretches, growing long and thin and dangerous, like the blade of a knife, until Johnny looks away. 

“Think less about my private life, Sergeant,” he warns him. 

“Not often you tell me to think less, LT.” 

Ghost just grunts, finished with the conversation, returning his unseeing eyes to the trees and slipping back into his own memories. 

-

That should be—well, not the end of it. He expects Johnny to become insufferable about it; that’s just the other man’s way. Still, Ghost had never expected to see you. 

He’s doing paperwork in the rec room, too stifled by the tiny, enclosed space of his office to remain there. Paperwork and debriefing are always his least favorite parts of an op. Give him a gun with which to kill and he will gladly kill; give him a pen with which to write and he spends half the time thinking about burying it in his own eye. Garrick and Johnny are there nearby fucking around on their phones having finished with their easy portion of the work ages ago. 

A phone is what Johnny thrusts beneath Ghost’s nose. It takes all of his mental fortitude not to flinch away from the unexpected action (or, more likely, not to rip Johnny’s arm off and beat him half to death with it). His eyes flicker down to the screen on instinct and—there you are. 

You have one eye squinted shut, your hand up to create a visor against the overbearing sun. The picture shows you from the bust upwards, and Simon sees it for approximately one full second before he grips Johnny’s wrist in a brutal hold and forces the hand and the phone away. 

It’s already too late. He’s committed you to memory. The way your hair sits, its color in the blistering sun. The curve of your lips (fuckable, he thinks against his will) as you give Johnny behind the camera an exasperated smile. The arch of your nose (images now—fingers pinching noses shut, forcing mouths further down his cock just to watch them choke and struggle)—

“Get that out of my face,” he grits out through his teeth. His thoughts won’t stop, not now that the floodgates have been opened, and it makes him feel like a dog backed into a corner, frightened-violence rising up in the back of his throat like bile. 

—the smooth line of your throat (and his hands around it, choking the light from your eyes just to fuck you when you’re soft and pliable and he doesn’t have to listen to you crying and begging)—shut UP!—

“It’s just my girl, sir,” Johnny laughs, his own eyes flickering back down to your image on the phone, like they are drawn to you. Like it is hard to look away. Ghost doesn’t have that problem—he has some  discipline left. “And it’s not as if she’s naked.” 

Ghost grips the pen in his hand so tightly that the plastic shell cracks. He’s barely keeping it together, sick and afraid and horrified and angry that Johnny has done this to him—has done this to his own girl—

His voice is rough when he croaks out: “What makes you think I care to see her, Sergeant?” 

“‘S it wrong to share the most important person in my life with the other most important people in my life?” Johnny says, eyes too guileless to be taken seriously. 

“Share less,” he snaps. 

“Been saying that to me an awful lot lately, sir.” 

“A good Sergeant would take my words to heart.” 

“A good lieutenant would know a futile lesson when it’s biting him in the arse.”

Ghost’s eyes narrow. “Careful, Johnny. As much as I hate paperwork, I’d write you up—gladly.” 

Johnny gapes. “What for?”

Ghost grins without mirth, mask stretching around his features. Even grinning cruelly like this, his face feels unused to any expression that is adjacent to happiness. He swears darkly: “I’ll find a reason.”

It would send anyone else running. Even Garrick looks fearful, though fascinated: the same look a man wears when he’s watching a car crash in progress. But if sense were dynamite, Johnny wouldn’t have enough to blow his nose. Instead, he just flops down on the couch close enough to flutter the pages in Ghost’s lap. Close enough for their knees to brush. 

“Jesus, you’re a tadger today,” Johnny says quietly, boot knocking against Ghost’s, a touch he feels all the way up his leg. “Shove off some of that paperwork on us. What’s the use of being a lieutenant if you can’t lord it over your sergeants?”

“I’m sorry, us?” Garrick asks. 

“I don’t shirk my responsibilities, Johnny,” Ghost says coldly, gathering his papers. His elbow brushes against Johnny’s ribs, the firm, burning warmth of the other man’s body. He jerks away. He’ll take the stifling seclusion of his office, that makeshift coffin, before he subjects himself to any more of this. “You’d do well to follow my example.”

-

Ghost resolutely does not think of you. Not during quiet lazy moments on base, not during the frustration of training recruits, especially not during the eerie calm of missions. You do not cross his mind. 

His dreams are another thing altogether. 

There are the dreams where he hurts and the dreams where he is hurting, and he doesn’t know which are worse. He only knows that they are made worse by your strange presence: your body bent and being broken in by others; you, bent and being broken in by him. He wakes in cold sweats, jaw aching from gritting his teeth in his sleep. 

He hates himself for this last place where he cannot execute control: his subconscious. 

-

“Mail?” Johnny asks cheerfully at the sight of Garrick seated on the bench outside the DFAC, a stack of papers and letters laying on his lap. 

Johnny is sweaty, gray t-shirt clinging to his toned body as he (for once) keeps a companionable silence at Ghost’s side. They have been training recruits all day—work which Ghost considers far beneath his pay grade, but which he can’t refuse when ops are so slow to arrive and when he is so eager (desperate) to keep busy. Ghost lets himself sit heavily on the bench a safe distance away from Garrick, sweat cooling on his own body. 

He’s not ready to be alone yet. 

He’s allowed to do that. To want company. Of all the people on base, Garrick and Johnny (and Price) might be the most tolerable of the lot of them. During the rare moments when the pitiful piece of humanity left inside him craves companionship, this is the least painful method to mainline it. 

He ignores the lack of letters for him. There is no mail for Ghost—there never is. 

Garrick passes Johnny no less than four envelopes. Johnny’s soft smile as he flips through them speaks volumes. Ghost can guess who they’re from: his mother likely, who writes as often as she can. One of his various sisters, surely. Take your pick.  Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Johnny flip through the letters and settle on one in particular, thicker than the others, tearing it open and tugging the letter out. 

The pictures slip from the folded piece of paper and fall to the ground. 

Johnny dives to grab them, but all it does is bring Garrick’s attention to them more. Even Ghost’s interest is piqued, his dark eyes giving up pretending to watch the recruits limp back to their barracks to shower before dinner and following Johnny’s hasty movements instead, watching the hot flush that crawls up the back of his Sergeant’s neck. 

“What are those?” Garrick asks. 

“No’ a thing.” 

Garrick lights up. He practically tosses his letter to the side. “She sent you pictures?” 

“Possibly,” Johnny says smuggly, the images—old fashioned Polaroids, a nice touch—pressed to his chest. His eyes narrow at the expression on Garrick’s face. “Don’t even think about it, Gaz—!”

Garrick pounces. The two begin grappling, both of their faces split into wide grins. Johnny can only defend himself with one arm, his other protectively clutching the photographs to his bosom. They take each other to the ground and Ghost watches, half interested and half irritated, wondering who will win. 

The pictures go flying—and fate’s invisible bitch of a hand causes them to land at Ghost’s feet. Garrick and Johnny freeze.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t, the same way he knows that he’s going to. Ignoring their renewed struggles on the ground as they fight to untangle themselves and stand, he leans down and reaches for the photographs.

The white of the Polaroid’s edges contrast nicely with his dark gloves as he gathers the pictures together like a deck of scattered cards. 

“LT—“

They’re relatively tame. Perhaps you knew the high risk of sending them. In one you are kneeling on a bed amongst a sea of mussed, white sheets, wearing nothing but a t-shirt that you have tugged down between your parted thighs to offer yourself some modesty. It is painful to flip to the next one, but pain calls to Ghost, lures him in. In another you’re wearing some strappy lingerie but still covered artfully by the sheets, both hands covering your eyes, a grin on your face like you are mid laugh. Did Johnny take these photos of you himself? Did a stranger? A friend? Another shows your side profile, back arched, topless, every inch of you curved and poised. 

You’re (a filthy little slut) so fucking pretty. 

“Give ‘em back, LT, please,” Johnny asks gently, like he expects Ghost to tear them to shreds. Or confiscate them. 

Ghost drops the photographs to the bench, wishing he could scrub the images of you from his mind. He shouldn’t have picked them up in the first place. It’s adding fuel to the fire of his broken brain, and he knows that he will pay for it dearly. 

Johnny is talking. “—shy, she’d just die to know you saw.”

“She’ll only know if you tell her, Johnny,” Ghost reminds him. His mouth feels numb, his brain the quiet granted by white noise, a conglomerate of screams. 

Johnny frowns. “Suppose so. You alright?” 

“Since Ghost saw—“ 

“No, Gaz.” 

Ghost watches the two of them enter the building. 

His hand burns, where he has palmed the picture of you topless. He stands and slips the Polaroid into his back pocket. It’s on the tip of his tongue to call out for Johnny and give him the picture back—he could find some excuse, and Johnny would believe him, he knows it—but he doesn’t. He makes for his room, feeling sick with himself. He isn’t hungry. Not for food. 

-

Ghost is compromised. 

The thought replays in his mind over and over again as he drives to Price’s house in Solihull. You and Johnny have crawled beneath his skin and infected him, dug your way into his DNA and are affecting everything from his decision making capabilities to his dreams. He knows that going anywhere where you both will be is a mistake, but it’s one he can’t seem to help hurdling himself toward at high speed. 

Nothing will happen, he tells himself, knuckles white against the steering wheel. He only does what he allows himself to do—no more. The others will be there at least, Garrick and Price and Johnny himself. Physical barriers between him and you. Human meat shields, if necessary. Ghost wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on you. (But who would stop him if he tried? Who could?) You are safe, he tells himself. 

He is the last to arrive, dragging his feet up the concrete steps to the two story brick historical home that Price owns. He lets himself in the way that Price told him to and can tell by the eerie silence of the house that everyone is already outside enjoying the well-landscaped yard. Already he sees the evidence of you: a purse (go through it) laid neatly on the dining room table. He sets his keys beside it but does not touch it. 

Ghost doesn’t bother trying to delay the inevitable. Every part of him wants to run, but that’s all he’s ever wanted his whole life. He’s used to it by now, used to being forced to walk toward the thing which terrified him. He squares his shoulders and slides open the patio door, slipping back out into the muggy heat of the afternoon, face mask in place, hood up.  

The landscaping is one of the best features of Price’s house. The privacy fence is tall and appealing to Ghost’s seclusive nature, the lawn neatly clipped. There is a hedgerow running along the southern edge of the fence that is meticulously maintained. Flower beds lined with bricks rest along the house full of geraniums and phlox. The patio is smooth stone with an inlaid fire pit that would be crackling if the weather were any milder. An iron-wrought table sits nearby surrounded by chairs, and seated there are Garrick, Johnny, and Price. 

You are over by the flowers, kneeling in the soft grass, picking phlox just a few shades darker than the sundress you’re wearing, the one that skims your soft thighs. Ghost’s eyes roam over you and away all before your head even turns at the sound of the door opening. 

“LT,” Johnny calls, lighting up. “You made it!” 

“Didn’t think you’d show, Lieutenant,” Garrick says with a smile. 

“As if he’s got something better to be doing than spending time with us,” Johnny crows. 

“Jesus, will you two leave the man alone? Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already regretting coming,” Price says. Ghost inclines his head, grateful for the backup. 

He hears your approach, the soft sound of your flats against the patio stone. You are small (weak) compared to him, craning your head up to look in his eyes. He hates the dark part of his brain that calls you easy prey as he watches you twist the phlox stems between anxious fingers. 

“You must be Simon—” Johnny shakes his head a little, subtle, visible only out of the corner of Ghost’s eye. “—ah—Ghost? I mean—” 

“I don’t care what you call me,” he admits.

“Ghost,” you settle where it is nice and safe. “It’s nice to meet you. John talks about you all the time.”

“Likewise,” Ghost says flatly, hoping you will not mistake it for a compliment. 

Garrick snorts. “Never shuts up about you is more likely.”

There aren’t enough chairs for everyone, so you sit on Johnny’s lap, legs crossed demurely, skirt riding up around your upper thighs. He wonders about the softness of your skin, wonders if his calloused touch would hurt you or if you’re used to Johnny’s by now. He could make it hurt. The thought doesn’t come with any zing of pleasure, just the cold apathy of fact. Has Johnny ever tried that? Has he ever—

Ghost’s gloved hand clenches into a fist, curling around the iron armrest of the chair. He takes a measured breath and holds it until his lungs ache. Those thoughts aren’t his own. They come from the dark part that Roba seeded inside him, that part with creeping vines too deep to root out. That part with thorns. 

He could hurt you, the same way he could hurt anyone, he tells himself. But he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to. 

He does only what he allows himself to do. No more. No less. 

You and Johnny stand, heading into the house to retrieve a round of drinks for everyone. Ghost watches Johnny’s hand dip low on your back to the curve of your ass as he guides you through the open door, shutting it behind you. 

“Are you alright, Simon?” Price asks around a cigar. “I know meeting new people isn’t exactly in your repertoire.”

“Don’t mother me.”

“Don’t have to be your mother to care about you.”

“Garrick—get lost,” Ghost barks. 

The iron chair legs screech against the stone of the patio as Garrick stands hastily. “Had the same thought, sir. Hedges look lovely this time of year.”

When Garrick is properly out of earshot, pretending to find amusement in the neat hedgerows along the fence line, Ghost says: “I shouldn’t have come. I’m… I— can’t be left alone with her.” 

“With—? Soap’s gal?”

Ghost grits his teeth in shame and nods. 

“Do you know her?” 

Ghost shakes his head in the negative, but it’s not necessarily true. He knows a thousand women just like her, soft and unexpecting. The betrayal always cuts deeper than his cock could reach (estoy preso, somos lo mismo, por favor).

He stands, chair legs dragging against the stone. “This was a mistake. I need to leave.” 

“If you say so,” says Price, knowing better than to argue. “Go around the side. You won’t even have to see them.” 

“My keys are inside. I’ll be quick.” 

“Take care of yourself, Simon,” says Price, his eyes dark and lips downturned as he watches Ghost stalk to the patio door and slip inside. 

-

He braces himself to see you and Johnny in the kitchen, but when the door slides open near-silent, neither of you are anywhere to be seen. Like a fool, he considers himself lucky. Quiet as his namesake, Ghost goes to the table and picks up his keys, palming them. 

That’s when he hears it. The unmistakable muted slap of flesh on flesh. 

(Go look.)

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t, but that is his modus operandi these days: failing himself, doing what he isn’t meant to, seeing what is not for his eyes. His feet carry him silently to the door, which is cracked open just wide enough for him to see through into the room. It is a guest bedroom judging by the bland decor, the queen sized bed. Johnny has you sprawled on it, your sundress hitched up around your waist, his fingers buried to the final knuckle inside your cunt. Ghost can hear the way it squelches from all the way outside the door, knows that you must be dripping down Johnny’s wrist. 

“Keep quiet, love,” Johnny pants, one hand over your mouth (he’s not doing it right) to muffle the whines and groans trying to slip past your lips. “Needy little thing, aren’t yeh? Squirming in my lap, making my cock hard right there in front of my Captain, in front of my Lieutenant—“

You whine something back, but it is lost into his palm. 

“Don’t have time to get my cock in you,” Johnny sighs, twisting his fingers inside you, hooking them to press against that tender spot past your pubic bone that has your knees knocking together. He shifts his palm down to grip your neck, your panting breaths filling the room. “But you can bet this dress is coming off as soon as we’re home, do y’hear me?”

“Yessir,” you whisper, and it has Ghost’s cock throbbing. 

This is not for him. He thinks about Johnny’s words from months ago: that you are shy. There’s no chance you would ever want to be seen like this by him. Reaching out, he grips the doorknob and quietly tugs the door closed, til the sound of Johnny’s palm slapping against your clit is muffled behind the wood. 

He takes his keys and is gone before you ever know he was there. 

-

Johnny texts him later that night: 

Why’d you leave early, you numpty? We wanted more time with you. 

Ghost doesn’t respond. He’s too busy spiraling in his own flat, losing control every few minutes and slipping back into that place of pain and blood and dirt. 

An hour later, Johnny ends up adding, My girl wants me to say she was glad she got to meet you. Only Jesus knows why! Ghost definitely doesn’t respond to that. But he doesn’t delete the messages either.

[hynzsn]

★ LATE NIGHT CALLS ★

☆ sohee x male reader

-> idol!sohee x non-idol!reader

꩜ .ᐟ fluff

contents: soft!sohee, clingy!sohee, longing, hotel room, tour shenanigans, falling asleep on facetime, established relationship, idol au, long distance, sohee’s missing you, sohee’s wearing your clothes, cute pet names, teasing, playful banter, emotional support, comfort, post-concert feelings, mutual pining, sweet talk, flirting, sohee thinks he’s cuter than your pet

wc: 2.5k

summary: sohee's on tour, living his idol dreams, but his heart's back home with you. after a thrilling concert, he calls you for a much-needed nightly facetime date.

♡︎♡︎♡︎ likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡︎♡︎♡︎

the bass was still thrumming through sohee’s veins as he stumbled into his hotel room, the adrenaline from the concert slowly ebbing away. his muscles ached, his throat was raw, and his hair was a sweaty mess, but god, he felt alive. the screams of the fans, the pulsing lights, the rush of performing – it was all still fresh in his mind. but as he closed the door behind him, leaning against it with a heavy sigh, another feeling crept in.

longing.

sohee’s eyes darted to his phone, lying innocently on the nightstand where he'd left it before the show. he bit his lip, fighting the urge to grab it immediately. no, shower first. he needed to wash off the grime and sweat of the performance before he could even think about calling you. but fuck, he missed you so much it physically hurt.

dragging himself to the bathroom, sohee stripped off his stage outfit, leaving a trail of sequins and leather in his wake. the hot water hit his skin, and he let out a groan of relief. as he lathered up, his mind wandered to you. were you at home right now? what were you doing? had you watched any fancams from tonight's show?

the thought made him blush, remembering how he'd blown a kiss to the camera during his solo, knowing you'd be watching later. god, he was whipped.

stepping out of the shower, sohee wrapped a fluffy hotel towel around his waist and padded back into the main room. his suitcase lay open on the floor, clothes spilling out haphazardly. but he bypassed all of that, reaching instead for a familiar, oversized hoodie folded neatly on top. your hoodie.

sohee buried his face in the soft fabric, inhaling deeply. it still smelled like you – a mix of your cologne and that indescribable scent that was uniquely you. he slipped it on, reveling in how it enveloped him, hanging off his frame. a pair of your sweatpants completed the ensemble, and sohee felt instantly calmer, safer. it was like being wrapped in your arms, even if you were thousands of miles away.

finally, finally, he allowed himself to grab his phone. his heart rate picked up as he opened your chat, seeing the string of messages you'd sent throughout the day.

[sohee’s phone pov]

📱 -> my whole entire world ♡︎♡︎♡︎: good morning sunshine!! hope you slept well~

📱 -> my whole entire world ♡︎♡︎♡︎: break a leg at the concert tonight (not literally ofc)! you're gonna kill it babe

📱 -> my whole entire world ♡︎♡︎♡︎: saw some previews on twitter... how dare you look that good wtf

📱 -> my whole entire world ♡︎♡︎♡︎: that outfit should be illegal smh

📱 -> my whole entire world ♡︎♡︎♡︎: love youuuu cant wait to talk later!!

sohee’s cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. how did he get so lucky? he quickly typed out a response, fingers flying over the keyboard.

[your phone’s pov]

📱 -> my baby ♡︎♡︎♡︎: babyyyyyyy im back!!

📱 -> my baby ♡︎♡︎♡︎: missed you so fuckin much today

📱 -> my baby ♡︎♡︎♡︎: can we ft?? pls pls pls i need to see your face

he bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting for your reply. it came almost instantly.

[sohee’s phone pov]

📱 -> my whole entire world ♡︎♡︎♡︎: ofc!! give me 2 secs

sohee’s heart leapt into his throat as he saw the incoming facetime call. he scrambled to answer, nearly dropping his phone in his haste.

and then there you were, your beautiful face filling his screen, and sohee felt like he could breathe properly for the first time all day.

"hi, baby," you said, your voice soft and fond. "how was the show?"

sohee couldn't help the way his lips curved into a pout, eyes going wide and pleading. "it was good, but i missed youuuu," he whined, flopping backwards onto the bed. "feels like forever since i last saw your face."

you laughed, the sound making sohee’s heart skip a beat. "we facetimed this morning, you big baby."

"that was hours ago," sohee protested, holding the phone above his face. "do you know how many hours that is? too many. way too many."

"poor baby," you cooed, your eyes crinkling with amusement. "however did you survive?"

sohee’s pout deepened. "i almost didn't. i think I'm dying of you deficiency. it’s a real thing, look it up."

you snorted, shaking your head fondly. "you’re ridiculous."

"ridiculously in love with you," sohee shot back, grinning when he saw the way your cheeks flushed.

"smooth talker," you muttered, but sohee could see the pleased smile you were trying to hide. "so, tell me about the concert. how’d it go?"

sohee launched into an animated retelling of the night's events, gesturing wildly with his free hand as he described the crowd's energy, the special stages they'd prepared, and the couple of minor mishaps that had occurred (like when anton had nearly tripped over his own feet during the dance break, saved only by wonbin’s quick reflexes).

"—and then during my solo, i did that thing with the rose, you know? where i bite the stem? and i swear to god, i thought the fans were gonna riot," sohee giggled, eyes sparkling with mischief. "i blew a kiss to the camera too, did you see? that was for you, babe."

you groaned, covering your face with your hands. "god, i saw. nearly had a heart attack, thanks for that."

sohee preened, feeling a rush of satisfaction. "good. that was the goal. gotta keep you on your toes, ya know?"

"trust me, you do that plenty without trying," you said dryly. "speaking of which, is that my hoodie?"

sohee glanced down, as if he'd forgotten what he was wearing. "oh, this old thing?" he said innocently, tugging at the collar. "maybe."

your eyes softened, a tender smile playing at your lips. "you’re wearing my clothes again?"

"always do when i’m away," sohee admitted quietly, suddenly feeling shy. "makes me feel closer to you. like you're here with me."

"baby..." you breathed, looking at him with so much love it made sohee’s chest ache. "i wish i was."

"me too," sohee whispered, curling up on his side and holding the phone close. "i hate being away from you. i know it's part of the job, but fuck, it's hard sometimes."

you nodded, understanding in your eyes. "i know, love. but hey, at least the time difference isn't so bad this time, right? we can talk more easily."

sohee perked up at that. "true! small mercies, i guess. still hate time zones though. wish the whole world operated on sohee time."

"and what, pray tell, is sohee time?" you asked, amusement clear in your voice.

"it’s whatever time lets me talk to you the most," sohee declared matter-of-factly. "duh."

you laughed, the sound warming sohee from the inside out. "of course, how silly of me. clearly that's the only sensible way to measure time."

"now you're getting it," sohee grinned, winking at the camera.

as your conversation continued, sohee felt the stress and exhaustion of the day melting away. just hearing your voice, seeing your smile – it was better than any post-concert high. he could talk to you for hours and never get bored.

and that's exactly what he planned to do.

"so, tell me about your day," sohee said, shifting to get more comfortable. he propped his phone up against a pillow, freeing his hands to play with the strings of your hoodie. "what’d you do while i was out here being a superstar?"

you rolled your eyes at his playful bragging, but there was fondness in your expression. "oh, you know, just pined away dramatically, waiting for my idol boyfriend to notice me."

sohee gasped, clutching his chest. "how cruel of me! making my precious honey bunny sugar plum wait like that. i’m a monster."

"honey bunny sugar plum?" you repeated, eyebrows raised. "that’s a new one."

"i’m trying it out," sohee said with a cheeky grin. "too much?"

"definitely too much," you laughed. "but somehow still cute coming from you."

sohee preened at the compliment, a light blush dusting his cheeks. "everything's cute coming from me. i'm the cutest."

"can’t argue with that," you agreed easily, making sohee’s blush deepen. "anyway, my day was pretty normal. went to work, had lunch with some colleagues, came home and watched some of your fancams-"

"ooh, which ones?" sohee interrupted eagerly, sitting up straighter. "did you see the one where i did that body roll during get a guitar? the fans went crazy for that one."

you groaned, covering your face with your hands again. "yes, i saw that one. multiple times. i think i've memorized it at this point."

sohee wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "like what you saw, babe?"

"you know i did, you menace," you grumbled, peeking through your fingers. "it should be illegal to look that good."

"aww, you're making me blush," sohee cooed, even as his cheeks flamed red. he batted his eyelashes exaggeratedly. "tell me more about how hot i am."

you snorted, dropping your hands. "as if your ego needs any more stroking. you fish for compliments more than my pet fishes for attention."

"hey!" sohee protested with a pout. "i resent that comparison. i’m way cuter than your pet."

"debatable," you teased, laughing at sohee's indignant expression.

"take that back!" sohee demanded, jutting out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout. "i'm the cutest thing in your life and you know it."

you pretended to think about it, tapping your chin thoughtfully. "hmm, i don't know... my pet is pretty adorable..."

sohee let out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest. "i can't believe this betrayal. my own boyfriend, choosing his pet over me. i’m heartbroken. devastated. i'll never recover from this-"

"oh my god, you're such a drama queen," you laughed, shaking your head fondly. "fine, fine, you're the cutest. happy now?"

sohee immediately brightened, his pout transforming into a dazzling smile. "ecstatic," he chirped. "i knew you'd see reason eventually."

a comfortable silence fell between you, both just content to look at each other for a moment. sohee’s eyes traced every detail of your face, committing it to memory. the curve of your smile, the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you laughed – he loved every inch of you.

"i miss you, you know?” sohee said softly, his earlier playfulness giving way to a more vulnerable honesty. "like, really miss you. being on tour is amazing, don't get me wrong. i love performing and meeting fans and all that. but sometimes... sometimes i just want to be home with you."

your expression softened, a mix of love and sympathy in your eyes. "i know. i miss you too. so much. but i’m so proud of you, you know that right? you’re out there living your dream, and i couldn't be happier for you."

sohee felt his eyes start to water, overwhelmed by the love and support in your voice. "even if it means we're apart so much?"

"even then," you assured him firmly. "yeah, it sucks sometimes. but seeing you on stage, doing what you love? it’s worth it. you’re worth it."

a tear slipped down sohee’s cheek, and he quickly wiped it away. "god, i love you so much," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "how did i get so lucky?"

"i ask myself the same thing every day," you replied with a soft smile. "now stop crying or you'll set me off too."

sohee laughed wetly, sniffling a bit. "sorry, sorry. i’m just feeling extra sappy tonight i guess."

"post-concert emotions?" you guessed, and sohee nodded.

"probably. everything feels more intense after a show, you know? the highs are higher, the lows are lower... and right now, missing you is like, cranked up to eleven."

you made a sympathetic noise. "i wish i could hug you right now."

"me too," sohee sighed, tugging the sleeves of your hoodie over his hands. "this helps though," he added, gesturing to the oversized garment. "it’s like a hug from you, kinda."

your eyes softened even further, if that was possible. "i’m glad. does it still smell like me?"

sohee nodded, bringing the collar up to his nose and inhaling deeply. "yeah," he mumbled into the fabric. "s'nice. comforting."

"good," you said, your voice warm. "i sprayed some of my cologne on it before you left, hoping it would last."

sohee’s heart swelled at the thoughtful gesture. "you’re the best boyfriend ever, you know that?"

"i try," you said with a playful wink. "someone's gotta keep up with korea's sweetheart, right?"

sohee groaned, burying his face in his hands. "oh god, don't call me that. it’s so embarrassing."

"but it's true!" you insisted, grinning widely. "my boyfriend, the nation's darling. stealing hearts left and right with his angelic voice and killer moves."

"stooooop," sohee whined, peeking through his fingers to glare at you halfheartedly. "you’re the worst."

"i thought i was the best boyfriend ever?" you quipped, raising an eyebrow.

"both. you’re both. simultaneously the best and the worst. it’s very confusing."

you laughed, "i'll take it. as long as you still love me."

"always," sohee said without hesitation, dropping his hands to reveal a soft smile. "no matter what."

the conversation flowed easily from there, jumping from topic to topic. sohee told you about the prank war that had broken out between the members on the tour bus (seunghan was currently winning, much to everyone's chagrin). you filled him in on the latest drama at your workplace, complete with exaggerated impressions of your coworkers that had sohee in stitches.

as the night wore on, sohee felt his eyelids growing heavy. he tried to stifle a yawn, not wanting the call to end, but you caught it anyway.

"getting sleepy?" you asked gently.

sohee shook his head stubbornly, even as another yawn escaped him. "no, m'fine. not tired at all."

"uh-huh, sure," you said, clearly not buying it. "when’s your schedule start tomorrow?"

sohee pouted, knowing where this was going. "not till noon," he mumbled reluctantly.

"then you should get some sleep," you insisted. "it’s late, and you need to rest after the concert."

"don’t wanna," sohee whined, clutching his phone tighter. "if i go to sleep, you'll hang up. and then i’ll be alone again." sohee bit his lip, considering. "...can we stay on the call?" he asked hesitantly. "even if we're not talking? just... knowing you're there helps."

"of course," you agreed immediately. "whatever you need. i’m here."

feeling reassured, sohee nodded and settled down into the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. he propped his phone up on the pillow next to him, angling it so he could still see your face.

"comfy?" you asked, and sohee nodded sleepily.

"mhmm. wish you were here though," he murmured, already feeling himself start to drift off.

"i know, love. soon, okay? just think about the moment you come back, i’ll be waiting for you."

sohee smiled at that, his eyes fluttering closed. "promise?"

"promise," you confirmed softly. "now get some sleep, superstar. i love you."

"love you too," sohee mumbled, already half-asleep. "so much."

as he drifted off, the last thing sohee was aware of was the sound of your steady breathing through the phone, and the comforting scent of your hoodie surrounding him. it wasn't the same as having you there, but for now, it was enough.

he fell asleep with a smile on his face, dreaming of the day he'd be back in your arms for real.

[daisymbin]

hii can u pls do angst #50 with seungcheol? and ofc, not an happy ending >__< i love ur writing sm, thank you!

ah!!! yes I can!! thank you for requesting 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

angst prompt #50: "I hope they're worth it."

seungcheol stumbled through the front door, the faint scent of alcohol and guilt clinging to his skin. the clock on the wall read 8:23am, but he didn’t need to check the time to know he was late—too late. the moment he stepped inside, he saw you sitting on the edge of the couch, arms folded tightly, face pale and blotchy, with dried tear tracks staining your cheeks.

you had been crying.

"you’re home," you said flatly, your voice raw like you’d been screaming into a pillow all night.

his heart sank. he’d spent the entire cab ride rehearsing what to say, but the words disintegrated in his throat. his voice came out hoarse. "yeah. i… uh, i lost track of time."

you laughed bitterly, the sound low and hollow, and reached for your phone. you slid it across the coffee table, the motion sharp, deliberate. the screen was lit, an image burned into it—a picture of him kissing someone at the bar.

someone who wasn’t you.

his breath caught. his fingers trembled as he picked up the phone, staring at the evidence of his betrayal. the rush of blood to his ears drowned out everything else.

"you weren’t even going to tell me, were you?" your voice cracked, anger bubbling just below the surface of your words.

"i—" his voice faltered. "i didn’t mean for it to happen. i was drunk, and—"

"don’t." the single word stopped him cold. you stood abruptly, wrapping your arms around yourself like you were holding yourself together with sheer will. your eyes shimmered, fresh tears threatening to spill, but you blinked them back, your voice sharper this time. "don’t insult me by blaming it on the alcohol."

his chest tightened, the weight of his mistake pressing harder with every word you spoke. "it was a mistake. i swear, it didn’t mean anything. i—"

"you don’t get to decide what it means, seungcheol." your voice broke, and this time, a sob slipped out. you pressed a hand to your mouth, as if you could stop it, but it was too late. the tears were falling again, streaming down your face even as you tried to stand tall. "you don’t get to brush it off like it’s something small, like it’s something i’m supposed to forgive just because you feel guilty now."

he moved closer, his hands trembling as he reached for you, desperate to bridge the chasm he’d created. "please, it was a moment of weakness. i love you—"

"love?" you let out a strangled laugh, the sound choked by tears. you wiped at your face with shaky hands but didn’t bother to hide how much you were breaking. "is this what love looks like to you? leaving me here all night, wondering if you were safe, only to find out you were with someone else?"

his knees felt weak. he sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. "i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hurt you. i don’t even know why I—"

"stop." you cut him off sharply, your voice steadier now, though the tears kept falling. "don’t sit there and act like you don’t know why. you knew exactly what you were doing. you just didn’t care enough about me to stop yourself."

his own tears started to spill, hot and heavy, but he didn’t wipe them away. "it was a mistake," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt. "it didn’t mean anything."

"it meant enough for you to do it," you shot back, your tone trembling but firm.

you bent down to pick up your bag from the floor, your movements slow, like every step you took was crushing you.

"wait," he blurted, panic lacing his voice. "where are you going? we can fix this. we can—"

"we?" you turned to face him one last time, your tear-streaked face filled with heartbreak and resolve. "there is no ‘we’ anymore, seungcheol. you destroyed that the moment you kissed her, the moment you decided i wasn’t enough."

his throat tightened as he tried to hold back his own sobs. "i’ll do anything. just… don’t leave. please."

you shook your head, the weight of the tears on your lashes making them shimmer in the dull morning light. "i hope she was worth it," you said quietly, your voice trembling as your lips quivered. "i really do."

he could only watch as you walked out the door, the sound of it closing behind you echoing in the empty apartment.

he stayed on the couch, staring at the spot where you’d stood moments ago, his tears falling freely now. the silence was suffocating, filled with the weight of everything he’d lost. he buried his face in his hands again, but this time, there was no one left to comfort him.

and he knew he deserved it.

[its-in-the-woods]

Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 8

Chapter one here, two here, three here, four here , five here, six here, seven here,

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating/Warning:  As always minor get out. Back to angst, this whole chapter is pretty angsty, some emotional damage, melancholy, self-doubt, self hatred, and almost no Walton (I am sorryyyy) It will get better I promise.. maybe..

Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.

Note: they are both single, all for fun.

I think I may have an ending now. Posts will continue to be 2-3k long. Every other day more than likely. The whole fic will be around 30k words.

You wake up to an empty bed, you frown and look around. Disappointment seeps into your skin at not getting morning cuddles from the man who had you screaming his name last night. The door is open a bit and you can hear Walton talking. Getting up you grab the shirt and pants, that had started last night’s shenanigans, from the ground slipping them on quickly. You open up the door and walk down the hallway, peaking into the kitchen Walton is sitting at the table. Tablet in front of him, glasses perched on his nose, brows furrowed as he talks into the phone. 

“I am a little preoccupied, can it not wait?” He speaks into the phone, rubbing his hand against his forehead.

You slip in and grab a cup filling it with water, before going to the table. Sitting across from him you can see that he is scrolling through a lengthy email. The water is cool, and your throat a little raw from the evening before. You can feel the material of your shirt rubbing against your fresh bruises. 

“Okay, okay,” Walton grumbles a frustrated sigh coming out. “Yes, I will be on the plane, I’ll be in LA in a few hours.” Your heart sinks a little, realizing he is going to be leaving. A feeling of dread spreading across your sternum, as you wait for him to finish his conversation. 

“Have you called production as well?” He asks, eyebrows raised, throwing his hand up, “Okay. Yes, I know it's important. I actually had plans this weekend. Yes, I know you tried to get a hold of me, but the day before seems a little short notice?” 

His shoulders slump and he leans back against the chair, staring up at the ceiling hand on his head, “Yes, I will be downstairs in twenty.”

The phone gets dropped on the table, the tablet switched off, his eyes looking at you. Running his hand through his hair he lets out another sigh. He looked tired, his usually sparkling eyes a little dim. The man’s usual endless energy smothered into a whiff of smoke. 

“I, unfortunately, have to go to LA, Leo will be here to pick me up in twenty minutes,” He groans and reaches out to take your hand. “If there was any way around it I would stay.” You squeeze his hand, trying to reassure him and yourself. 

You were looking forward to the weekend with him, but your mind drifted to the conversation from last night. His life was unconventional, he was going to be on the move a lot. If you couldn’t deal with that, then you shouldn’t have started down this road to begin with. 

“It’s okay, I know you’re busy man,” You say putting a smile on your face, even if it hurt now, you where determined to at least give it a shot. “I will get an Uber set up and get my things.”

“If you want to stay here you’re more than welcome,” He says softly, and as much as you want to stay in this beautiful space you know it would be better to go home.

“No, I am good.” Letting go of his hand you stand up, and he follows after you as you go back to the bedroom. 

His hands find your hips and he turns you around to face him. “Hey, hey,” You can’t look at him in the eyes. Walton’s fingers tip your head up, and you try to keep yourself from getting emotional. “This was never the plan. I know it’s not ideal, and if I could convince my agent to fly you down with me I would.” You almost hate him for knowing you so well, the way he crawled underneath the careful mask you created. The fact that you let him in so easily. 

You shake your head, “I knew what I was getting into. Get ready to go or Leonard is gonna be up my ass about it.” 

A small smile crosses his face and you kiss him gently before you strip out of the borrowed clothes stepping into last night's. You gather things up from around the room slipping the belt around your waist. A smile crosses your lips remembering both of you running around the room like lunatics. The thought that you would get to do that again helps keep you going forward. 

Walton has a small bag he is stuffing things into. He looks flustered, hair standing on end face flushed as he disappears into the bathroom. He mutters under his breath as grabs a power cord. You grab your phone dig into the apps to find an uber, happy when you see one is less then five minutes from you. Going over to him you tap his shoulder, he turns to you his deep eyes looking you over. That heat pooling in your guts as you meet his, and if both of you didn’t need to be on the road in five minutes you’d be get him out of that shirt again. 

“I am gonna head out,” You say quietly, hand coming up to rub against his stubble. “Message me when you can okay.”

He leans against your hand eyes closing, turning his head to kiss your palm. “I will, as soon as I land and over the next few days.”

You nod, moving forward to give him one final kiss before you leave. Heart sinking to your feet as you close the door behind you, all you want to do is run back. To tell him you’d figure out how to come with him, anything just get anothe day in. 

***

“So, come on tell me all the details,” Trevor all but bounces through the phone. 

“If I wanted you to know the details of my sex life I’d invite you to join,” You chuckle, as you dig through your mostly empty fridge.

“Well, I am sure Walton wouldn’t mind that much,” 

“Oh please, then again he did bite me. Also the belt.”

“Did he spank you?” Trevor squealed into the phone.

“Well not really, he slapped my ass with my belt.” You flush remembering the exchange, the absolute glee on his face. 

“Oooh, you two are going to be a problem. Should have known he has a kinky side.”

“Hush, we are both professionals, I haven’t heard from him since he left this morning.”  You can hear the hurt in your voice. As much as you’ve tried to avoid it not hearing from him since you left had started to cloud your mind.  Your fingers tip tracing over the marks on your collarbone, a stark reminder of what had transpired. 

“Oh,” Trevor says, you can hear his voice soften, “I am sure he is just busy. He will get back to you.”

“I am sure he will,” But that cloud of doubt has already crept in. You know he is busy and probably is going through a laundry list of things to do. But it still hurts that he hasn't texted you back. You could phone him, text him again, but you also didn’t want to push things. The last thing the man needed was a clingy girlfriend. Where you even that? Was it just a fling for him? Pushing that away you tell yourself its best if you let it be, he would get back to you. 

“Now, now, don’t get in the dumps girly. That man is smitten all over you,” 

“Well wasn’t all over me, thought I might have to try that” You giggle trying to change the subject.

“Oh you’re nasty,” Trevor says gleefully. 

“Not yet, but I have a feeling that may change,” You smile, a little spark of hope in your mind. “I am looking forward to Monday.” 

“If you can believe I will be too! Want to see how flustered I can get both of you,” Trevor cackles into the phone. 

The two of you chitchat for a few more hours before you say goodnight. You sit at your small desk slash dining table looking at your wall of artwork. Your heart was heavy, you flipped your phone open scrolling to see anything. But there was nothing. Putting your phone face down on the table, you debate if you should eatt. It would likely have to be take out as the fridge was bare. The thought of food made your stomach turn, maybe it was best to just have another cup of coffee. 

***

The water from the shower spilled heavily over you. You sat in the bottom of the shower tears mixing with the water, snot had long been wiped away. You shiver slightly even with the steam. You knew sitting here wasn’t going to help anything, but you also didn’t want to go out there. Here the pounding water and stingy heat stopped your mind for a moment. Stopped it racing over all the what-ifs of the world. You couldn’t face another blank screen, scrolling through all the unanswered texts. Why did it hurt so much? You had excused Saturday, but then Sunday came. An email from Liz. Saying Walton wouldn’t be in Monday, but that you would be assisting FX with their work. Normally you’d have been happy to help FX, and get a chance to show some of your skills. But knowing that Walton wouldn’t be there and wasn’t answering his phone made your heartache. You had heard how people died of broken hearts, how their hearts just gave out. Was that what this felt like, to feel your heart pounding at your chest with grief? 

You tried so desperately to let go of Friday night. The weeks of flirting, the feel of him touching you, the date at the sushi place and long night on the beach. The way he had and kissed you. Maybe you were jumping to conclusions, but hearing nothing from him felt like a nail in the coffin. You had seen a few photos and interviews of him, promoting his latest released show. He looked happy and cheerful, answering questions with his quirky smile. Your fingers running over the marks that still covered your chest. Pressing on them to feel a slight amount of pain that numbed the hurt. 

“So stupid,” You mutter under your breath, dragging yourself from the floor of the shower. You turn the water off and grab a towel drying yourself off in the humid room. You rub at your scalp trying to scrub memories out of your mind. Purposefully avoid the mirror so you didn’t sese the memories of Friday. 

You don’t bother getting dressed just crawling under the covers. You set an alarm for tomorrow and plugged your phone in. Facing it down against the side table. You curl up under the covers more tears coming out. 

“Go out for two dates, and you’re laying here blubbering like you're sixteen.” You curse at yourself. “It’s enough. You knew it wasn’t going to end any other way. Let it go.”

***

Monday morning comes and you are downing a redbull and breakfast burrito. You don’t bother talking with Trevor, just shooting him a look of ‘please let it be’. You are grateful he doesn’t push the matter, instead, you get your hands deep in fake blood. Helping FX set up the dead bodies and crime scenes. Just happy to have a reason not to look at your phone. You briefly contemplate turning it off entirely. But leave it on just in case, in case of what you weren’t sure. What excuse could he have had for ignoring you for nearly three days. Your jaw hurts from clenching iit so much. You rub against it, fingers moving down to the mark on your collarbone. You still had marks, the thought made vomit sting in the back of your throat. Something had to be wrong here, you walked over to your chair and sit. Trying to hold back the emotions that were threatening to pull out of you. 

Friday night had been, wonderful, amazing, a bunch of other adjectives. You shake your head, fingers still fighting to not rub on the bruises. The way he had made you feel as he touched you. Your face is flushed, both with anger and regret. Maybe you were being irrational, maybe you’d look too deep into things. But had you? You feel your jaw clench again, part of you wants to just leave. Walk away from set, from it all, the emotions gnaw inside trying to find a way out. The AD yells cut and calls lunch, you feel relieved half of the day was done. 

You grab a book from your trailer before going to get lunch it helps take your mind off things. You are sitting in the tent book in hand, trying to avoid everyone, when Leonard sits down in front of you. Stomach learches as you try to ignore him, but he just keeps looking at you. You look over your book at him, the older man doesn’t have a plate of food. Just staring at you with deep blue eyes, hand running down his white beard. You let a sigh and put the book down.

“Hi Leonard.” You say trying not to let irritation seep in. It really felt like the world was against you today. Could no one leave you alone for 12 hours?

“Could I talk to you please, outside,” He was firm and confident, but at the same time something a kin to worry seemed to be crossing his face. 

“Sure.” You do your best not to roll your eyes. He gets up and you follow him, tossing your half-eaten lunch in the garbage. Leonard goes down a side street towards his large black SUV. He opens the door for you, and you sigh. Maybe he would abduct you and you’d have legitimate things to worry about.

He closes the door and goes around the front of the vehicle, getting in and turning to you. “I am here to give you a message. I tried to find you this morning but things got a little hairy and I wasn’t able to get to you.”

“Did I join a gang and no one told me?” You ask words laced with sarcasm, fingers itching to grab the door handle and leave. Part of you wanted to know what was happening, and another part didn’t. It would just make it more real. 

Leonard huffed, “Well if it’s a gang of two dumb-asses then yes.” Hand going over the rings on his hands. 

“Sorry Leonard, it’s been a long day.” You saw his shoulder relax a little, he was just the messenger. Even if the message hurt, he didn’t deserve to be on the other end of your anger.

“Mr. Goggins sends his apologies. He left his phone in his apartment and wasn’t able to get a hold of you”

You blink for a few minutes, eyes narrowing at him. Could it really be true, something so simple? “That’s awfully convenient.”

Leonard narrowed his eyes right back at you, “If you saw how upset he was. You would think otherwise.” You felt like you were being scolded in kindergarten. 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. “Leonard, are you messing with me? Cause I am not here for any boys club BS.” 

Leonard sighs looking out the front window, arms resting on top of the steering wheel. “Ma’ma. I’ve known Mr. Goggins for a very long time now. He is many things, but he is not someone to pump and dump.” You cringe at the last phrase, making you feel dirty at the idea. You raised your eyebrows, clear disgust on your face. “You know what I mean.” He said quietly. 

You swallow, heart racing with nervous anticipation. “When is he coming back?”

“This evening, I am sure he will want to see you.” The man was so sure of his words, it was hard not to believe him. 

“Well, he has my number,” You say curtly turning and opening the door to leave. 

You walk quickly from the vehicle, hoping Leonard doesn’t follow you. You have nowhere to go, you know you should go back to the trailer and get the end of the day going. But you need just a few minutes alone. You walk yourself into the bathroom trailer and close the door locking it.  

Ignoring the obvious odors you try to calm your mind, it was racing all over the place. You didn’t know how to feel, you had just spent the last three days upset over him. Yet could it have been as simple as him forgetting his phone? You knew he had forgotten it in the trailer before. Your mind races to Saturday morning, you had seen him put the phone on the table. Your heart skips, and you sit in the stall wanting to punch something. You opt for grabbing all the covered toilet paper rolls and lobbing them off the walls. Here you were blithering away like a fool over something simple. It wasn’t like you both had added each other on socials. Not that that would have mattered. A few more breaths and cleaning up the toilet paper you feel somewhat better. You’d sort whatever the hell this was tomorrow, for now you just needed to make it to the end of the day.

chapter nine

*all the love to every single one of you, you are my heroes*

[teine-mallaichte]

Day 19 of @whumperless-whump-event : injury tending / domestic hurt/comfort / "let's check those bandages."

I hate writing the comfort part of thing 😅 anyway part 6 (and likely the final part) of my accidental Fenders series.

Fandom: Dragon Age 2

Whumpee: Fenris

Caretaker: Anders

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Fenris blinked slowly, squinting against the morning light that filtered through the gaps in the curtains. His head pounded with a dull, persistent ache, and his body felt weighed down as if he were sinking into the bed.

The events of the past hours—or perhaps days—felt fragmented and elusive, like a dream slipping away as he tried to grasp its details. Flashes of memory flickered through his mind: the sting of the wound, his hurried attempt to stitch it up, and Anders's comforting presence. Yet these recollections were tangled and indistinct, mingling with the vivid sensations of fever and chills. The sharp contrast of the cold water against his overheated skin and the haunting nightmare about Danarius and the dungeon all seemed to blend into a disconcerting haze.

"Hey, you’re awake," Anders's voice cut through the fog of his thoughts, grounding him in the present. Fenris turned his head slightly to see his partner entering the room, a serious yet gentle expression on his face. The healer was carrying a tray of medical supplies, his hands steady as he approached the bed.

Fenris tried to sit up, but his body protested with a wave of dizziness. He winced, feeling the dull throb of his wound. Anders was already at his side, placing the tray on a nearby table and gently guiding Fenris back down.

"Don't move," Anders said firmly, "I need to check your wound."

Fenris nodded, though his head felt heavy. Anders began to unwrap the bandages, concern etched in every line of his face.

The sight of the injury made Fenris’s breath catch. It was partly closed now, Anders having likely used his magic, but it remained surrounded by angry, red skin. Anders frowned, his fingers brushing lightly around the wound as he assessed it. Picking up a jar of elfroot salve film a nearby trey.

"This could have been a lot wise you know," he muttered as he applied the salve, "if I haven't gotten back when I did..." he trailed off.

Fenris winced slightly as the cool salve touched his raw skin, but he forced himself to not flinch away.

"I was... Managing," he insisted, though he was aware that given his current state the argument likely fell flat.

Anders's hands were gentle but precise as he worked, applying the salve with careful strokes. He sighed softly, clearly frustrated but keeping his tone steady. "Managing? Yes, because collapsing, dilirious with fever really screams 'I'm fine'," he said, his voice a fragile mix of exasperation and concern. He paused in his movements and met Fenris's gaze with his own, his eyes reflecting a storm of emotions—anger, worry, and a deep-seated sadness. "You were barely coherent."

Anders’s jaw tightened, but he forced himself to soften his expression. "Look," he said quietly, as he returned to his work, "I get it. I thought we were past this," he gestured vaguely, "but I get it. Just... next time, don't let me have to wait until you’re literally unconscious to find out that you're injured."

Fenris felt a pang of guilt at Anders's words, but he couldn’t quite muster the energy to respond.

"I honestly want to strangle you at times," Anders continued, his tone less annoyed, "And I know you hate it when I fuss," his voice softening as he applied a fresh bandage, "but you’re not the only one who has to deal with the consequences of your stubbornness."

"I did not intend..." Fenris murmured, trailing off the effort of speaking sapping his strength.

"I know you didn’t intend for any of this," Anders said quietly, finally securing the new bandage in place. His fingers lingered for a moment longer on Fenris’s skin, "I just wish you would let me help before things get this bad." He placed a hand gently on Fenris's forehead, his fingers cool against the feverish heat radiating from the other man's skin.

Anders sighed, "You should try to rest," he said softly, "The fever will pass, but only if you let yourself recover."

Fenris tried to muster a response, but the weight of exhaustion was too much. He could only manage a faint nod, his vision blurring at the edges. He felt the bed so as Anders sat beside him on the edge of it.

“Just sleep,” the mage murmured, “I’ll be here.”

[joodlepo]

Stray Kids Reactions / To Squirting (18+)

Summary / After an intense fucking session, Stray Kids' members are left in a state of post-orgasmic bliss. However, each member is left with their own unique reaction to seeing you squirt for the first time!

A/N / Hello~! I'm very excited to say that I'm officially taking requests right now, so if you want to request something from me, feel free. I'm not a professional writer or anything, but I can try my best! Please make sure to read my requests guidelines first before requesting! Thank you!

Pairings / (Top) Every Member + (F) Reader

Word Count / 11.0k

Warnings / Squirting, Spanking, Bondage, Choking, Humiliation, Fingering, Degradation, Multiple Orgasms, Roughness, Aftercare, Hard Domination,

Bang Chan / A series of hard smacks fell flat against your ass, each one making your flesh ripple and sting. You couldn't help but wince, the pain was almost too much to take in. Chan wasn't going easy on you; and he wanted this as bad as you did, if not more so.

Your body felt like it would burst into flames at any moment, with all that heat rushing through every inch of your skin. He didn't stop until you were sobbing out loud for him to let up, begging him silently between gasps for air to please just give you a break, before you passed out right here. The humiliation that burned inside you was even worse than the fire burning within your cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Chan said softly, once you had quieted enough to hear him over your own breathing. "But, I have to make sure my babygirl learns her place~"

His tone became more gentle when he spoke, and you knew exactly what he meant by that sentence. You whimpered quietly beneath him, while tears began to stream freely down your face. It hurt so badly...

No. You have to endure it.

You loved this man too much to ever tell him no or walk away. Even now, laying helplessly under his firm grip and heavy palm, you wouldn't dream of doing anything other than taking whatever punishment he dished out, however harsh it may be. His love for you was far greater than the pain he could inflict upon you, after all.

So, instead of crying out in despair, you simply held yourself perfectly still and endured his assault without complaint, only letting out soft whimpers of agony whenever he struck a particularly painful spot on your rear end, which seemed to happen often.

"Ahh..." You mewled softly, biting back another cry as yet another slap rang loudly off your butt cheek. "Chan, p-please—"

Chan growled lowly in response, tightening his hold around you, before pounding himself deeply into you with renewed vigor, eliciting a fresh round of cries from both of you. Trembling beneath him, you felt weak and shaky, completely unable to do anything else but hold onto the bedsheets tightly and grit your teeth together as he thrusts into you mercilessly, ignoring how wet he'd made you already.

Every thrust sent sharp bolts of pleasure coursing through your lower regions, making them throb madly and beg for release, though you refused to allow it, at the risk being punished even further.

"Shhh... babygirl." He cooed soothingly, rubbing circles along your backside where he'd hit you most harshly. " It'll be okay soon... Just hang in there a bit longer, alright?"

The thought of enduring more punishment filled your mind, but you forced yourself to nod anyways. You weren't about to disappoint him either way.

As always, Chan's words proved true within moments. He began to slow down, giving you time to catch your breath between each thrust. After several long seconds, he began to move again, slowly at first, then faster and harder as the passion built inside you. Soon enough, he picked up speed dramatically, slamming into you roughly over and over until you cried out incoherently, shaking uncontrollably underneath him.

Each deep plunge left you feeling raw and exposed, causing an intense wave of sensation to wash over your entire body as he plundered you relentlessly, leaving nothing untouched save your poor, abused bottom.

"Ahh! Fuck... I-I can't take anymore!" You gasped, writhing wildly beneath him.

Chan swiftly continued to ignore you, pounding into you forcefully regardless, driving you closer and closer towards climax. With a gasp, you came undone, screaming wordlessly into the sheets as waves of pleasure crashed over you, sending you spiraling deeper into oblivion with each passing second. Panting and trembling, you tried desperately to get some semblance of composure, but found that impossible given the intensity of your orgasm.

All sense fled from you as the blissful euphoria consumed you, leaving only your core pulsating with unending desire, yearning to feel Chan's touch once more. However, one single action stopped him dead in his tracks.

Your eyes shot open wide in surprise as you started to squirt all over his cock, drenching him with your juices. Your legs quivered violently beneath you, buckling slightly as you trembled and shuddered with pleasure. At last, Chan slowed his pace considerably, allowing you to come down from your high slowly. When he finally pulled free of you, you collapsed bonelessly against the mattress, panting heavily and staring blankly ahead.

For a good minute, neither one of you moved. Chan was in complete shock, his jaw hanging slack and his hand frozen halfway toward your ass. On the other side, you were utterly mortified. Not because of the fact that you just orgasmed like a slutty little whore, but rather, the fact that you had done so right in front of him.

The very thought of him seeing your naked body sprawled out across his bed, glistening with your arousal, turned you beet red, despite everything.

"Woah... what happened? Are you alright?" He asked nervously, moving forward gingerly to check on you.

You nodded shyly, blushing furiously. "I'm fine..."

Still unsure of whether he should believe you or not, Chan sat beside you and gently brushed your hair aside. "Are you sure? You uhm... squirted pretty hard there..."

"Y-Yeah, I did. I'm sorry if I had ruined the mood for us," You said apologetically, averting his gaze from him.

Chan's brow furrowed worriedly, and he leaned down to give you a kiss. "It's okay. That was actually kinda hot. Maybe I should start being rough more often..."

"R-Really?!" You exclaimed excitedly, tilting your head up to look at him.

A mischievous grin spread across his face, dimples appearing in his cheeks and causing you to smile bashfully in return. "Mhm. Just as long as you keep squirting for me, babygirl~"

The two of you shared another quick peck, before he began to pleasure your insides with his fingers, coaxing out several small aftershocks from your sensitive pussy.

His thumb rubbed teasing circles around your clit while his finger worked its magic, bringing you quickly back to full strength. As much as you wanted him to continue, however, he knew better than to push your limits any further tonight. Instead, he simply teased you mercilessly, prolonging the inevitable by making you wait for it.

Lee Minho / Minho's moist tongue didn't hesitate to plunge itself deep into your pussy, causing you to gasp audibly. The feeling of his lips on your clit was incredible — almost too much to bear at first. He lapped up every drop that spilled out from between your legs, then going back for more. You were so turned on by the sight of him devouring you like this; it made your insides softly melt away into pure pleasure.

His hands stroked down over your thighs as he ate you, pressing against them in a way that felt quite intimate. Your whole body tingled all over when he did this, especially where his fingers dug into your skin. It wasn't long before you began buckling under the pressure of how good everything felt. You couldn't take anymore without coming...

"Minho," You whimpered softly, "I'm gonna—"

"You better not." Minho threatened darkly, shoving two thick fingers inside you, curving them so they rubbed directly across your g-spot while still thrusting his tongue hard and fast along your throbbing clit. "Don't even think about cumming until I tell you to... or else. Got it?"

He punctuated each word with another lick, and the stimulation sent waves rippling through you, causing goose bumps to break out all over your arms and shoulders. Everything seemed far away now, except for those delicious sensations flooding through your entire being. They grew stronger until there was no stopping what happened next. A sharp gasp escapes, and suddenly your stomach lurched violently.

The room began to spin around you, making your head spin even more than it already had been. But instead of falling off the bed or passing out altogether, something else took control: your orgasmic bliss.

All of it washed over you like a wave, crashing down upon you one last time. This new sensation was close to giving you such an intense release unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. Still, you did your absolute best to hold it back — knowing full well how Minho would react if you didn't, but also wanting desperately to prolong what felt like the most amazing thing imaginable.

"Don't stop!" You cry out loudly, grabbing onto Minho's hair tightly as he continues eating you out rather greedily. "Fuck! Don't stop, don't fucking stop, please just keep going... I can't take no more..."

"Needy little bitch," He growls, continuing to lap up every bit of cum that spills from within you. You're panting heavily, trying desperately not to lose consciousness. "Although, hearing you beg me to do things is kinda hot~"

Minho pulls his mouth away, licking his lips slowly.

He looks up at you with a wicked grin on his face, which only makes your heart skip several beats in response. No doubt, he knew exactly how sexy he looked right now, looking all smug and satisfied after pleasuring you so thoroughly. Then, without warning, he grabs you roughly by the hips and flips you over. You squeak loudly, but only because of the suddenness of it all, otherwise you wouldn't have cared about being manhandled.

As soon as you lay face down on the sheets, Minho sits back up, lifting both your legs high above your head. Before you can protest, he takes advantage of this position and enters, pushing himself deeper each time. With your lower half raised in the air, there isn't anywhere for you to go except forward. And once again, you feel completely powerless to resist. You're held firmly in place as Minho begins pounding you mercilessly, his cock sliding easily and deeply within you.

There's nothing stopping him from doing whatever he wants, and you know it.

Suddenly, you felt your own mind going blank. There's nothing but pleasure. Nothing but Minho. As he pounds into you harder and faster, your body begins to shake uncontrollably. You squeeze tight around his shaft, trying to pull him even further inside you. Every part of you feels hypersensitive, like your nerves are firing off signals at random. Even breathing becomes difficult.

Out of nowhere, you feel a intense surge of juices burst out from between your legs, coating Minho's cock. You gasp aloud, surprised at yourself, but you don't care. Liquid drips down onto your inner thighs, pooling around your knees. Your eyes roll back into your head, and you start moaning louder and louder, unable to help it.

Everything around you seems distant, fading quickly away.

Your whole world is reduced to Minho's cock plunging relentlessly inside you, filling you entirely. Over and over again, he buries himself deep inside you, taking all of your essence and leaving none behind. It's almost painful, feeling every inch of him stretching you wide open. Yet somehow, that pain is turned to pure ecstasy.

All too suddenly, Minho stops, pulling his dick out of you with a loud pop. You let out a disappointed moan, reaching blindly toward him. A second later, though, you hear him laugh.

"Damn," He says playfully, "Look at all the juice you made for me~!"

His words bring you back to reality. Forcing your eyelids open, you look down between your legs. Sure enough, a large puddle of clear liquid has formed underneath you, covering folds of your skin in sticky strands of fluid. You reach down to touch it, then immediately recoil when you realize what you've done.

"Shit," You say out loud, wiping the mess off your hand onto the sheet beneath you. "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? This?" Minho asks, sounding amused. "You should feel proud. That stuff was pretty much the sexiest thing I think I've seen yet."

"Sexy?" You ask incredulously, glancing up at him. "Are you serious? We were just—"

Before you can finish your sentence, Minho leans down and kisses you hard on the lips. His tongue slips past your parted lips, exploring your mouth eagerly. You whimper softly, still shocked by how quickly everything happened. But before long, you find yourself kissing him back, letting him lead the way. His hands move up your sides, cupping your breasts possessively. They bounce slightly as he squeezes them, causing you to squeal lightly.

"Just what? Just started having sex?" Minho teases, leaning back up and smirking. "That doesn't count."

"Shut up," You reply with an annoyed sigh, rolling your eyes. You glance down at the mess you made, noticing for the first time how wet your thighs actually are. The bedsheets were soaked through, and there's no denying it; you came quite a bit during those last few minutes. Not that you minded, of course.

Seo Changbin / Changbin's hand gently wrapped around your throat, carful to not hurt you. You whimpered and squirmed as he leaned in closer so his lips could kiss yours softly on the neck. He slowly ran a finger along your jawline down, and towards your earlobe, where it would rest for just an instant, before sliding back up again. His breath was hot against your skin, and you shivered from head-to-toe with anticipation of what else he had planned.

Your hands were free now that they weren't holding onto him anymore, but Changbin didn't seem inclined to let go yet. Instead, he began tracing lines all over your body; starting at your collarbone then moving upwards until his fingers found their way under your shirt. The moment he touched bare flesh, you gasped out loud and pulled away slightly - only to have him grip even tighter around your waist, preventing any escape.

"I won't be gentle," He whispered into your ear, sending another wave of goosebumps through every inch of your body. "You're mine now."

He slid both hands up underneath your bra, cupping each breast carefully while keeping one hand firmly clamped around your stomach. Your breathing grew heavier when his thumb grazed across your nipple and sent tingling sensations throughout your entire chest.

With no other option available right now, you simply nodded silently and closed your eyes tight as if hoping this whole ordeal would never end... And fortunately, it seemed like things were about to get much more interesting between the two of you very shortly.

As he continued kissing you passionately, Changbin unclasped your bra completely. It fell off your shoulders and landed somewhere near the bed behind you, leaving you naked and exposed to him once again. With nothing left to hide, you decided to give in fully to whatever was going to happen next.

You opened yourself up entirely to him, giving full reign to do with you as he pleased.

His hands moved quickly after that, taking advantage of how eager you were to please by pushing your pants down further and fumbling with the buttons. After several seconds of struggling, he managed to open them enough to pull down your panties without removing them altogether. They ended up falling to either side of your ankles, allowing him easy access to your pussy.

The second his tongue made contact with your folds, you came almost instantly. A long moan escaped your mouth as pleasure coursed through every single part of your body; causing your hips to buck wildly beneath him. He responded immediately, lapping up everything he could find inside your cunt, making sure there wasn't a drop of cum or liquid left anywhere.

When he finally lifted his face up from between your legs, you couldn't help but stare at him lustfully, waiting eagerly for more.

"Mm..." Changbin hummed happily, clearly impressed by his own work. "That's quite some lubrication I've got here."

"Don't blame me for finishing too soon," You mumbled, still panting heavily. "You're the one who's worked me up so badly."

"And look how well it paid off!" Changbin chuckled, reaching forward to grab your ass cheek and pulling you close. "Now come on, show me what else you can do."

Before you knew it, he had flipped you over onto your back and was hovering above you, smirking smugly as he watched you wiggle your butt around. Even though his cock felt huge compared to the rest of him, it fit perfectly within your slick entrance; stretching you wide and filling every last bit of space.

"Oh fuck..." You breathed out, staring up at him as his dick slowly sank deeper into your wet hole. "So good..."

A low groan slipped past his lips as he pressed himself all the way inside of you. There was absolutely zero resistance whatsoever, which allowed him to slide in easily despite its girthiness. As expected, it caused your inner walls to squeeze tightly around him, drawing out a soft gasp from his throat.

You looked down between your thighs, watching Changbin's shaft disappear into your depths. Every time his thick length hit bottom, a new wave of pleasure rushed through your core, forcing you to bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. The sight of his cock disappearing deep into you was incredibly sexy, especially considering how large his dick was.

It took less than thirty seconds for him to start fucking you. Slowly at first, he withdrew halfway only to push back in harder. Soon enough, he was pounding you relentlessly, slamming his hips into yours forcefully while squeezing your tits roughly. You moaned loudly from the roughness of his touch, gasping whenever he grabbed your breasts too harshly. But the pain only added to the thrill, helping you to forget just how big he actually was.

The bed shook violently beneath you, knocking the pillows off the headboard repeatedly as he fucked you faster and faster. His balls slapped against your lower back with each thrust, smacking your skin so hard that you thought it might leave bruises. Not that it mattered much since you'd already been marked by him many times before.

But even though his size was intimidating, Changbin kept up an incredible pace. He pounded your insides mercilessly until you cried out from the overwhelming amount of sensation flooding your body. Sweat dripped freely down his forehead, mingling with your own glistening sheen. Yet he didn't slow down for anything, not even when you begged him to stop.

Instead, he merely slowed slightly, slowing down just enough to make sure you wouldn't pass out.

"Ahh...Changbin..." You whimpered breathlessly, clutching onto the sheets beside you as he began moving again. "I'm gonna... can't take anymore—"

A sudden sharp jolt shot straight through your pelvis, followed by another and yet another. Your entire body tensed up from the intense bursts of pleasure shooting through you, sending ripples throughout your stomach and making you writhe uncontrollably. Squirts of warm fluid coated your thighs as you squealed like a little girl, moaning louder and higher pitched than ever before.

Changbin didn't stop there however, continuing to slam his throbbing cock deep inside of you. Each powerful thrust sent shockwaves radiating outward from your center, making it impossible to keep quiet no matter how loud you tried. The strings of the mattress snapped under the force of his thrusts, leaving them hanging limply from their posts.

Soon enough, the two of you collapsed atop the bed together, both completely spent. You lay there, unable to move as sweat poured down your naked chest and pooled between your thighs.

"Hahaha...oh my god..." You laughed weakly, trying to catch your breath. "How are we going to clean this mess?"

"We'll worry about that later," Changbin murmured sleepily, resting his hand on top of your thigh. "But... I wasn't expecting you to squirt like that."

"H-Huh?" You gasped, looking down between your legs.

Sure enough, a small puddle of cum rested right below where his dick disappeared inside of you. It was mostly clear, but a few stray strands of white mixed in. And judging by the fact that most of it was dripping down onto the blankets underneath you, it seemed like you were leaking more than usual.

"Wow..." You smiled shyly, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze. "Didn't know you could get me off so fast."

"Well, if you want more..." Changbin trailed off suggestively, leaning down and kissing your shoulder gently. "Just say the word."

Hwang Hyunjin / You couldn't stop yourself from gagging around Hyunjin's thick fingers, as they roughly caressed the inside of your throat. He giggled at how pathetic a sight it was, and began to squeeze harder on each pass until you were practically choking in his hand. You had no choice but to swallow hard or risk losing consciousness completely. It felt like he'd be able to do that with ease if he wanted too... which only made him laugh more.

"Such a good little slut," Hyunjin praised, swirling the tip of his digits around your tongue before pushing them back down into your mouth again. "Suck them, now."

The roughness of his hands against your skin sent shivers up and down your spine; not because of fear, but excitement for what would come next. You sucked hungrily on one finger after another, eager to please him.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you took every inch of his long, slender digit deep within your wet mouth – moaning softly when it hit the very back of your throat. His other hand went between your legs once more, gently stroking your pussy through the fabric of your skirt while making sure you didn't miss out on any action either.

The way he kept teasing your clit without ever touching it directly made all sorts of delicious tingles shoot straight up your body.

Hyunjin leaned closer over you then, so close that his breath tickling your earlobe made you squirm in anticipation. "Mmhmm..." He murmured, licking along its rim slowly. "... I think you're ready for my cock, aren't you?"

His words set off an intense rush of lust within you, sending a jolt of pleasure shooting right to your core. A whimper escaped your lips as you nodded vigorously, unable to speak past the tight grip his fingers held onto your throat.

He chuckled lightly at this response, running his free hand up your neck and tilting your head towards him. Without hesitation, he pressed his open mouth against yours – kissing you passionately as he slipped two fingers inside of your dripping pussy. You moaned deeply into his mouth as he continued thrusting both of his slick digits deeper and deeper inside of you, filling you up until there wasn't much room left.

All thoughts about keeping quiet disappeared under the sheer ecstasy caused by his ministrations, leaving you panting heavily beneath him.

"That's it, slut... take those fingers like a good girl." Hyunjin cooed, nibbling playfully on your lower lip. "I bet you want me to fuck you really bad, don't you? To fill your pretty little pussy full of my hot cum, hmm~?"

"I-I— Mmph!" You mewled against his mouth, struggling to form coherent words due to how turned on you were becoming.

Hyunjin smiled darkly down at you, still fingering your soaking pussy. The heat emanating from his touch made you shudder uncontrollably, desperate for something else to happen soon.

There was nothing better than being taken advantage of, especially when the person doing it knew exactly what they were doing. The idea that he could make you feel this good just by playing with your cunt made you quiver, knowing he must have some sort of special technique to go along with his impressive size. That thought alone almost pushed you over the edge already, but you managed to hold back somehow. For now, anyways...

With a light groan of satisfaction, Hyunjin pulled away from your kiss and moved his face back to yours – smirking lewdly at your flushed expression. "So cute... I love watching you get fucked, little thing."

"Hngh..." You panted, trying your hardest not to moan.

A playful smirk curled across his lips. "Do you want me to finish you off first? Or should we move things along?"

Your breathing quickened as he slid his fingers out of your soaked pussy, making you whine in protest. Your thighs clenched tightly together, squeezing his digits in a futile attempt to keep them trapped within your folds. Even though you weren't getting anything more, it hurt having them removed – reminding you of the fact that you'd been denied for far too long.

Not wanting to wait any longer, you grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward, forcing him to lay flat atop you.

"Oh~?" Hyunjin breathed, staring down at you with wide eyes. "Did you finally decide to let me fuck you properly?"

"Yes, please," You whispered fervently, meeting his gaze with hungry eyes.It only took a few seconds for him to position himself above you – letting you stare down at his huge shaft tentatively.

It looked even bigger up close, causing you to bite your bottom lip nervously. Before you had time to second guess yourself, he gripped his thick length firmly between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a gentle tug. As expected, his dick sprang upright, throbbing eagerly against his stomach.

With a soft grunt, Hyunjin positioned himself further down your torso, resting his weight upon your chest. He stared down at you expectantly, waiting for your permission to enter you fully.

"Do it," You replied simply, gripping his sides tighter.

"Hehe~! Well, if you insist..." Hyunjin said with a chuckle before pushing forwards, sinking half of his cock inside your warm hole. The feeling of him stretching your insides made you gasp, clenching around his girth instinctively.

His tip rubbed directly against your deepest parts, eliciting another low cry from your lips. The sudden sensation made you writhe beneath him, moaning softly as you felt him start sliding deeper. Each inch filled you up a bit more, until his entire length sunk deep inside of you. It stretched you out painfully, burning as he sank deeper and deeper inside of you.

After several minutes spent taking his massive member all the way in, Hyunjin paused – allowing you to adjust to his size.

You moaned in contentment once you got used to his thickness, pressing your cheek against his muscular shoulder as he began slowly pumping his hips. His slow pace was enough to drive you crazy, the friction of his pelvis rubbing against yours driving you wild. Every time he thrust upwards into your depths, you squeezed tight around him, relishing every single moment of pleasure radiating through your body.

"Mm..." Hyunjin hummed appreciatively, leaning down to nuzzle your ear affectionately, while continuing his rhythmic fucking. "It's pretty warm in here, isn't it?"

"Yeah," You gasped, tilting your head to meet his mouth hungrily. "I like it."

His lips met yours in an eager embrace, both your tongues tangling together in heated passion. A shiver ran down your spine, sending goosebumps rushing over your skin. When you broke apart from each other, your breath came out raggedly, leaving you panting heavily.

"Good. Because I'm going to be here for awhile." Hyunjin chuckled throatily. "Don't worry; I'll take my sweet time filling you up~"

You gulp audibly, biting your lip hard as you watch him continue to slide his cock in and out of your dripping sex. You couldn't help but whimper when he hit your deepest parts, making your inner walls clench tightly around his invading shaft. The pressure only made him push harder, pounding his length into you relentlessly.

Every inch of his thick meat forced its way inside of you, spreading you open so much that it almost hurt. Despite how good it felt, it still left you gasping for air. You could feel your slickness coating his shaft as he plunged repeatedly inside of you, filling you up completely. Each plunge made you squeeze tighter around him, unable to stop yourself from crying out loudly.

"Hyunjin!" You cried out, struggling beneath him. "Please, make me cum already..."

"What do you think this is, huh?" Hyunjin asked teasingly, grabbing your ass roughly by the cheeks. "This is where I get to have my fun. So, don't go thinking that just because you're begging, I'm gonna give you what you want... or else you might find yourself regretful later on~"

"Ahh-!" You groaned, digging your nails into his back.

He smirked down at you, chuckling darkly as he continued to pound away. "No matter what you say or beg for...this is mine now."

As soon as he finished speaking, he pulled free from you, pulling your legs towards him. Without warning, Hyunjin pushed forwards again, burying his entire length inside of you without missing a beat. Your inner muscles clenched tightly around him, milking his thick length as he pounded into you.

His hands grabbed onto your thighs, holding them tightly as his cock pistoned inside of you. Your pussy burned fiercely, leaking juices freely down your thigh as his large cock slid in and out of you. The heat intensified whenever he hit your deepest parts, forcing you to cling to him desperately. He kept up his relentless rhythm, plunging into you over and over again, not stopping no matter how much you begged him.

Something new started to build up within you, growing stronger and hotter with every passing minute. Just as you thought you were about ready to explode, Hyunjin slammed his hips forward one final time. His balls slapped against your clit, sending jolts of electricity shooting straight to your core.

Warm juices squirt between your folds as you climaxed on his cock, spasming wildly underneath him.

"Fuck, yes! Hyunjin, oh fuck! You feel so fucking good!" You cried out as the orgasm rolled through you, filling your entire body with light. "Oh, fuck!"

"That's right, scream for me," Hyunjin growled hotly, slamming himself into you over and over again. The combination of his rough movements and your sensitive clit sent you spiralling into yet another mind-melting climax.

Hot waves of pleasure washed through you, tightening your inner muscles around his shaft. With a loud cry, you shattered under him, coming undone entirely. Your eyes closed, your jaw slackened and your voice went hoarse, letting out high pitched whimpers of blissful ecstasy.

Han Jisung / Jisung thrusted into your mouth with such force that you felt the tip of his dick hit the back wall. You were so turned on, and it was only getting worse as he pushed deeper inside until finally all six inches had disappeared down your throat. He held onto both sides of your head tightly while thrusting in and out rapidly like a jackhammer, making sure to keep most of him deep within your mouth.

The vibrations from his hips against yours sent shivers up and down your spine, but even more than that, Jisung's moans made every nerve ending in your body come alive at once. It took everything for you not to cum right there; however, Jisung still wasn't done yet. He pulled almost half way out before pushing himself back in again and repeating this process over and over without any mercy or pause. His cock swelled bigger by the second as precum oozed from its tip each time it slid past your lips.

Saliva dripped down his shaft too, which further added to the sensation of having something thick and hard sliding between them. Your tongue flicked along the underside of Jisung's dick, trying to get rid of some excess saliva coating his length, and then lapped around his balls when they rolled slightly forward into view

You could feel yourself growing dizzy due to lack of oxygen, but you didn't want to stop sucking just yet. The erotic sight of Jisung fucking your face drove you wilder than anything else ever did. He looked like a beast, holding you down against the bed while using you as his personal fuck toy. This was exactly what you wanted—to be used and degraded in front of someone who wouldn't judge you. Someone you knew would never leave you behind...

"Mmm, I love the way you suck on my cock, my sexy little slut," Jisung growled lowly, causing your eyes to widen. "I bet you could do this all day."

His words caused an electric jolt through your entire being, sending tingles shooting throughout your nerves. You'd been craving this kind of attention since forever ago, and now that it was here, you couldn't help but let loose.

Your hands grabbed hold of Jisung's thighs as best you could, squeezing tight enough to cause bruises if necessary. Your cheeks hollowed out as much as possible, allowing his girth to slide effortlessly down your throat, and then you began bobbing your head faster. If anyone saw you right now, they might have thought you were a professional porn star giving one hell of a blow job. But no, this was all real life. All these sensations were happening to you. And you loved it.

Tears stung your eyes from how good it felt, especially knowing that Jisung was enjoying every single moment of it. Even though his cock grew harder and thicker with each passing minute, you continued to work your magic. Every inch of him was coated in a layer of spit and drool, which also helped lubricate things nicely.

As soon as he reached his limit, he pulled away abruptly from your lips. Instantly, you cough and choke on whatever air you managed to catch in your lungs, which resulted in another loud moan escaping your parted lips.

Jisung smirked smugly down at you, wiping a hand across you chin to clean off some of the mess. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

You nodded quickly, swallowing down the last bits of his precum still stuck to your mouth. "Y-Yeah, mmfh, mnph... I mean, no! I'm fine, really!"

The look of concern on his face instantly melted away when he realized you weren't injured. Instead, his smirk returned in full force, followed shortly after by his hungry gaze.

"You're pretty tough," Jisung said, running his fingers through your hair affectionately. "It's nice to know you can take me rough sometimes."

A blush spread across your cheeks as you stared back up at him, unable to say anything. The compliment made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, but at the same time, it only fueled your desire. You craved more abuse. More pleasure. A lot more.

Jisung leaned closer to whisper directly into your ear. "Think you can keep going, baby? Or are you ready to give up already?"

With that question hanging in the air, you struggled to form coherent thoughts. You didn't want to disappoint him, but you also needed to breathe. When you opened your eyes, Jisung was staring down at you intently, waiting patiently for your answer. You glanced over to see his dick still twitching, ready for more pleasure. That alone gave you the motivation you needed to continue. Slowly, you pushed yourself upward until your chest rested on top of Jisung's thigh. With shaky breaths, you sucked in a few deep gulps of fresh air before looking back at him.

"Uhm..." You whispered breathlessly. "N-No, I don't think I'll give up just yet."

Jisung smiled proudly at your response, which caused a rush of warmth to flood your body. It was so easy to fall under his spell. To surrender everything to him. As long as he was there to protect you, nothing else mattered.

He moved his hips upwards again, letting the tip of his penis rub against the roof of your mouth once more. His eyes narrowed as he watched you carefully, waiting to make sure you were alright. After taking several slow breaths, you finally relaxed and resumed your blowjob.

This time, you focused solely on the task at hand; getting his dick as wet and slippery as possible. Then, without any hesitation or shame, you slid your lips up and down the length of him. Just thinking about how hard it had been to get him to come made your heart ache, and you immediately regretted not doing it sooner. Now that you knew what to expect, however, you were determined to bring him as close to orgasm as humanly possible.

Jisung moaned deeply as you did exactly that, sucking on the underside of his shaft while stroking him with both hands. He gripped onto your shoulders tightly as you went deeper than ever before, eliciting a soft grunt from his throat. Your saliva combined with the precum created a thin film coating his cock, making it easier to glide along its surface.

After a few minutes passed like that, Jisung lifted himself off of your head, causing you to gasp loudly. "Hm? What's wrong, Jisung?"

His breathing was ragged as he spoke, forcing you to lean forward slightly to hear him properly. "Bend over..."

Without hesitating, you complied. You bent down further, resting your elbows on either side of the bed, leaving your ass sticking straight up in the air. Jisung wasted no time climbing between your legs and positioning himself behind you. One of his hands grabbed hold of your waist, holding you steady while the other one traced circles around your clit.

Your stomach clenched tight at the sensation, sending waves of heat rushing through your lower half. You bit down on your lip nervously, hoping he wouldn't notice the slight quiver in your voice. Thankfully, he seemed too preoccupied with pleasuring you instead.

Jisung ran his thumb gently across your swollen bud, rubbing it firmly enough to elicit a small whimper from you. Once he felt comfortable, he began sliding his digit in and out of you, slowly increasing the tempo. Soon, your pussy started dripping wetter and wetter, soaking his fingers completely.

Before long, Jisung added two digits to his foreplay, stretching you open wide while simultaneously stimulating every inch of your sensitive flesh. The pressure built steadily, turning your insides into molten lava and your brain into mush. You couldn't help but moan loudly, squirming underneath his touch even though you tried your best to remain calm and collected.

Jisung chuckled softly as he continued playing with your pussy, occasionally tracing a finger near your ass to tease you. Each time he did, you tensed up, unsure if this would be another instance where he'd use his tongue on you. However, each time he pulled away quickly, giving you false hope that maybe, just maybe...

"Oh God!" You cried out sharply as an intense wave of pleasure hit you all at once, causing your knees to buckle.

The sudden gush of clear fluid splattered against Jisung's face, drenching his handsome features in a mixture of warm cum and sweat. It wasn't until after the second spurt that he realized what had happened, pulling back abruptly to wipe it off of his cheek. His eyes widened when he noticed the mess he'd made, glancing up at you sheepishly. You blushed brightly, averting your gaze for fear of seeing disappointment in those beautiful brown orbs.

"Oh wow..." He breathed out heavily, staring at you curiously. "That's something you don't see everyday."

You giggled weakly, nodding in agreement. "No kidding..."

Lee Felix / Your wrists were tied tightly together as you sat patiently in a nearby chair. Large amounts of embarrassment washed over you as Felix looked at the ropes around your wrists with an amused smile on his freckled face. You tried not to blush too hard in front of him, but it was difficult when he stood there naked from the waist up while looking down at you like that. He had just finished showering before coming back out here, so he wasn't wearing anything except for some dark blue boxer briefs which barely covered most of his figure.

The material clung tightly to them and showed off every muscle beneath. His cock poked through one leg hole and hung low between his legs; thick and long enough to make your mouth water even though you'd already tasted what lay underneath those boxers once before. It would be easy to look away if this were anyone else's dick, but seeing how excited Felix got whenever you touched yourself made it impossible not to stare at his bulge all day.

"Sorry. Did I make you wait long?" He asked casually after a moment spent admiring your bound form. "Not that I care much, since my hands are free~"

He walked towards you slowly, never breaking eye contact as he did so. Your heart raced and your breath came short each time he approached until finally he stopped right behind where you sat. With no hesitation whatsoever, he grabbed hold of the rope binding both your arms to the armrests and pulled sharply upwards, causing your torso to jerk backwards into his chest. He let go immediately and stepped back again, giving himself plenty of space to admire your flushed cheeks and pouting lips.

"But, you're happy see me, right?" He asked teasingly, making you shiver slightly despite the warmth of his skin against yours.

"Y-Yeah," You mumbled shyly, unable to meet his gaze.

Felix chuckled softly. "I knew it."

His hand moved forward again then, sliding under your chin and tilting your head upward to force you to look directly at him. That only served to further embarrass you because now he could get a good view down your shirt, revealing more than enough cleavage to drive any man crazy. Even Felix seemed taken aback by it, taking a few moments to study your breasts before returning his eyes to your own.

You gulped audibly.

"Is something wrong? Are these small?" He teased gently, cupping one breast in either palm and squeezing lightly. A shudder ran through you as he squeezed harder, feeling the softness of your flesh through the fabric. "Or is it their color that makes you flinch?"

It took everything you had to keep yourself from squirming, especially when he slid his hand under the edge of your bra cup and rubbed your nipple through the thin cotton. All thoughts of embarrassment fled as he pinched your sensitive bud, sending electric jolts through your entire body. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, trying desperately to ignore how turned on you felt. But it was proving very difficult, especially considering how close he kept getting to touching you...

"Hmhm..." Felix hummed thoughtfully, leaning closer still. "What are you thinking about, hmm?"

You couldn't help blushing hotly at the sound of his voice. And yet, somehow you managed to reply without stumbling over your words or stammering.

"...Well, um.." You cleared your throat nervously, staring intently at his face. "I'm imagining...how it feels to have you inside me."

The corners of Felix' lips quirked up. "...Oh really?"

You nodded quickly, biting your lower lip as his fingers continued to rub circles around your nipple through your shirt.

"Doesn't it feel nice?" He breathed seductively, trailing kisses along your jawline. "I sure hope so..."

You moaned loudly when his tongue slipped past your parted lips and traced its way across your cheekbone. He licked his way down your neck, leaving wet trails as he went, stopping briefly to suckle your exposed collar bone. Aroused murmurs filled the room as Felix worked his way downwards, kissing and licking everywhere he could reach. When he reached your tits, he pushed aside your bra cups and sucked greedily at your nipples, eliciting another loud moan from you.

"Mmph!"

Felix laughed quietly at your reaction, pulling away to watch your chest rise and fall with ragged breaths. Your hands were still bound together, keeping you stuck in place, but that didn't stop you from reaching out to touch him. You curled your fingers into his hair, tugging lightly and moaning as he kissed his way down your stomach. The heat of his mouth was incredible, driving you wild with need for more.

When his tongue finally found itself nestled between your thighs, you whimpered and pressed your hips forwards, desperate to feel more. Unfortunately, your hands remained tied securely above your head, leaving you completely helpless as he lapped at your slit like some kind of ravenous animal.

You cried out wordlessly as his warm tongue swirled around your entrance, dipping deep and pushing just far enough inside to tease the nerves within. His hot breath tickled your inner thigh, sending a rush of tingly sensation down below, prompting you to push your legs wider apart to give him better access.

"Nnggghhh..." You grunted weakly, struggling to keep your focus on anything other than the pleasure radiating outward from your core. "Felix... untie me, please..."

He smirked up at you, watching your face closely while his tongue continued to work magic upon your most intimate parts.

"No can do, babe." He said simply, moving his attention to your clit instead.

You gasped loudly as he circled your swollen nub with his tongue, tracing little patterns all over it. It wasn't long before you began bucking wildly beneath him, crying out incoherently as he pleasured you. Each time you did, he would take advantage of the opportunity to lick you deeper, rubbing his tongue hard against your slick folds until you came undone once again. This happened several times throughout the course of what felt like an eternity, each orgasm stronger than the last. By the end, you were practically begging him to let you cum, no matter how much it hurt.

But, Felix merely smiled up at you, continuing to lap hungrily at your pussy. He slowed his pace significantly though, letting you catch your breath after every climax before starting anew. You tried to fight back the growing desperation building inside you, wanting nothing more than to see him release too. But, it was impossible to resist the temptation of his skilled tongue.

As soon as you started to relax, he'd start to move faster, swirling his tongue around your engorged clit until you were gasping and panting, writhing uncontrollably underneath him. Even then, he wouldn't relent, pressing himself against your quivering thighs and using them to pull you even tighter against him. With each thrust of his tongue, he made it easier for you to grind your soaked mound against his face.

Finally, you gave in to your urges, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly and grinding your hips into his face. As soon as you did, Felix groaned deeply, pushing one final inch further into your needy cunt. You screamed loudly, releasing yourself fully around his eager tongue, shuddering violently as you came all over his face. Squirting your juices onto his chin, he pulled back abruptly, swallowing the sticky fluid off his mouth and smiling wickedly at you.

You panted heavily, trying desperately not to pass out from the intense wave of bliss coursing through your body.

Kim Seungmin / Seungmin chuckled softly, watching you squirm underneath him like a pathetic worm on it's back. He had your legs spread wide and gripping the sheets tightly in both hands, as he slowly fucked into you from behind, his cock sliding deep inside of every time it pushed through that tight opening.

His balls slapped against your ass each time they swung low enough to do so, making you moan with pleasure, even though you knew better than anyone how good this was going to feel when he finally let loose inside of you. Seungmin could barely contain himself anymore either; his thrusts becoming harder and faster until all at once he pulled out completely before slamming back inside again.

Your head fell forward onto the pillow as he continued to fuck into you over and over, his hips slapping against yours with each hard thrust while those thick fingers dug deeply into your flesh beneath. The bed shook under both your combined weight, causing the wooden frame to creak loudly but not loud enough for either one of you to care about right now. It wasn't long after that he grabbed hold of your waist tighter still, pulling down harshly on it whenever he felt like pushing deeper inside of you or giving you more leverage if needed.

"I have to say... I'm impressed." You mumbled quietly between moans. "You being so rough seems very rare these days..."

"You think so? That makes two of us," Seungmin replied breathlessly, pausing only briefly to look up at you. His eyes were bright red with lust, sweat glistening along his brow. Your own body was covered in a light sheen too, despite the fact that you weren't doing much moving around besides moaning and panting heavily.

Seungmin smirked slightly, shaking his head lightly as he resumed fucking you. He didn't bother saying anything else, just grunted softly and kept pumping away relentlessly. Even though you couldn't see what was happening behind you, you heard the sounds of skin smacking together and gasping breaths coming from below you, which told you exactly where he was at the moment.

Your body tensed up slightly each time he slammed home, feeling another orgasm building quickly within you. Seungmin's grip tightened further upon your waist, before loosening up entirely, allowing you to fall forwards onto the mattress without any support whatsoever. You groaned lowly, unable to keep yourself upright due to the intense sensations running through you.

He didn't seem to mind much however, continuing to pound into you forcefully as he did so. Every inch of skin rubbed together sent sparks shooting through your entire being, making you whimper helplessly as your climax began to build ever higher. Just as it seemed you would pass the point where you couldn't handle anymore, he reached up and grabbed your hair roughly by the roots, yanking upwards sharply.

The pain only served to heighten the intensity of what was happening to you, sending jolts of electricity racing throughout your nerves as his dick throbbed deep inside of you repeatedly. All at once he stopped moving altogether, burying himself fully within you as he held you firmly there with just his pelvis pressed against your own. A strangled cry escaped your lips as you came undone, your muscles tightening and clenching around him uncontrollably.

"Oh... oh god..." you moaned weakly, gasping heavily as you tried desperately to catch your breath. "Ahh!"

Seungmin grunted out a few short curses as he began to empty himself inside of you, pumping hot cum, along with several other smaller spurts. Your pussy spasmed violently around his shaft as he kept moving, milking everything he could from you until there was absolutely nothing left. When he finally withdrew, you collapsed onto the bed next to him panting heavily, letting go of the sheet to clutch handfuls of fabric instead.

It took a moment longer before you realized his stamina hadn't waned in any way and that Seungmin had just been holding back for your sake. You lifted your head off the pillow to find him looking down at you curiously. One hand slid gracefully across your back gently, tracing the curves of your spine as he watched you closely.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah," You breathed out shakily, reaching up to wipe some sweat from your brow. "I'm fine."

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth briefly before he leaned down and kissed you softly, kissing each cheek and jawline carefully. The sweet sensation made your heart flutter, making it difficult to breathe properly for a brief second. After breaking apart he sat up straight and looked down at you, tilting your chin upwards so he could kiss you again.

This time he lingered, pressing his lips against yours tenderly. Each soft stroke of his tongue brought new feelings bubbling up within you, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded. Even though you should have been tired and sore, you found yourself craving more of his touch. Before you knew it you were sitting up on your knees and wrapping your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as best as you could given the circumstances.

After a minute or two he broke off again, resting his forehead against yours as he stared intently into your eyes. He sighed contentedly and nuzzled closer to you, laying his hands on top of your thighs and holding you close to him. For a moment neither one of you said anything, simply enjoying the closeness of the other person. Eventually he shifted slightly, shifting his weight so that he lay on his side facing you rather than face down.

"Ready for round two?" He murmured huskily, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip.

You giggled lightly, leaning in and kissing him back. "Always."

Seungmin chuckled softly as well, bringing his arm up and looping an ankle behind your knee. With little effort he flipped you onto your front, pinning your wrists above your head with his free hand and positioning himself atop you. You let out a quiet moan when he entered you once more, this time with far less hesitation. As always it felt incredible, filling every part of you and stretching you wide open.

His pace slowed down somewhat compared to last time, taking things slower as he savored the feel of being inside of you. It wasn't long after that before you started pushing against his hips, trying to encourage him to move faster. Seungmin obliged immediately, picking up speed gradually as you began to lose control over your breathing.

With a shuddering gasp you arched your spine upward, crying out loudly as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, causing you to arch your back even further and press your heels into his lower abdomen. His thrusts grew deeper, hitting all the right places at exactly the perfect angle, driving you wild with desire.

Just as your climax peaked another one struck you unexpectedly, you couldn't stop yourself from squirting liquid onto his lap. You cried out in surprise but continued bucking beneath him regardless, desperate for any kind of relief. Seungmin growled deeply, slamming home hard enough to make you bite your lip in response. Every inch of him stretched you tight and left you feeling utterly empty afterwards, which was quickly remedied by the warmth pooling between your legs.

"Woah..." You panted out raggedly, rolling your hips slowly underneath him as if testing how loose you still were.

"Right?" He agreed, stroking his fingers through your hair soothingly. "That's why I love doing this."

You hummed in agreement, staring up at the ceiling and closing your eyes tightly. The heat radiating off of his body combined with the way his chest moved against your breasts sent pleasant tingles throughout your entire frame. It didn't take long for you to start getting sleepy, unable to keep your eyes open no matter how badly you wanted to stay awake.

Yang Jeongin / Jeongin held you steadily above his face, lapping up your nethers with a wet tongue. He was so gentle, but the pleasure he gave you felt like heaven; it made every part of your body tingle and sing as if all its nerves were on fire. You arched over him, writhing in ecstasy at how good this felt – especially when Jeongin's fingers found their way onto your thighs and began to caress them softly.

They rubbed against that spot just below where they joined together, sending waves of heat through your lower tummy and making your hips jerk forward eagerly towards each stroke. His thumb traced circles around the soft skin between your legs until you could feel yourself getting ready for something else entirely, then suddenly his mouth left your folds altogether before returning there moments later.

The tip of his tongue swirled gently across your clit while two more digits pressed into your inner walls, teasingly stroking inside of you without entering fully. It sent shivers down your spine as you gasped out loud, feeling like an animal caught by a predator who wanted nothing more than to be devoured whole.

Your hands gripped handfuls of bedsheets tightly beneath you as another wave washed over you, only now it wasn't quite so much about what you'd been doing. Instead, it was purely about being taken right here and now. The sudden shift from lustful playfulness to raw carnality had you arching off the sheets even harder, moaning loudly into the pillows behind you. You writhed underneath Jeongin's skilled lips and fingers, wanting to feel everything he did to you – every single thing that made you want to come undone completely.

As he worked magic upon your pussy, your back arched higher and higher until finally, with a cry of pure bliss, you came hard against his face.

You bucked wildly atop him, unable to stop shaking or shuddering as the orgasm hit you full force. Every muscle in your entire body tensed up and trembled as Jeongin kept licking away, milking out every last drop of cum within you. When the aftershocks subsided, you collapsed backwards onto the bed beside him, panting heavily.

However, Jeongin hadn't stopped pleasuring you yet.

With one hand still gripping your thigh firmly, he reached upwards to take hold of your other leg instead. Then, using both hands, he spread open your labia wide apart once again before slipping his tongue deep inside you. You whimpered in delight at how good it felt, especially since it also meant you didn't have to move any further to enjoy himself too. All you needed to do was lie back and let him work wonders on your insides.

His talented tongue played along your g-spot slowly at first, tracing little circles around it before dipping deeper into your core. It felt wonderful having him touch you there intimately, especially since the rest of your body was already thoroughly satisfied. But as he continued moving his head rapidly against your sensitive flesh, you soon found yourself coming close to climax all over again.

"Mn..." You mewl out, holding onto his shoulders as you grind your pelvis against his face. "I need...something..."

"I know, baby," He replied, his tongue still going wild against you. "I'm gonna give it to you."

Jeongin moaned deeply as you rode his face, pushing him closer towards the edge himself. Just as you started to get near, he pulled back slightly to lick the outermost parts of your vulva clean, leaving your most tender spots untouched. This drove you mad with desire though, because it meant he knew exactly what you liked best. So when he plunged his tongue right back into you, it went straight for those same places that made you go weak at the knees.

With his tongue buried deep within your depths, Jeongin used long strokes to massage your clit as well as your G-spot simultaneously. He alternated between these motions, alternating between fast and slow. In turn, it pushed you ever closer to the brink of oblivion. However, unlike earlier, he wouldn't allow you to simply fall over the side and tumble into release. No, he would keep you hanging on the precipice, teetering on the very edge of the cliff.

Just when you thought you couldn't possibly endure anymore, he withdrew his tongue and replaced it with two fingers. They slipped inside you easily, gliding smoothly past your spasming muscles. Once he got them nice and slick, he curled his fingers inward, pressing directly against your deepest reaches. A moment later, you felt his thumb press hard against your clitoris. And as he moved his digits in tandem with the thrusting motion of his tongue, you exploded for a third time.

"Does that feel good?" Jeongin asked breathlessly, pushing his fingers deeper into your wetness.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you cried out, clutching desperately onto his shoulder blades. You weren't sure if you were speaking or screaming, but either way, it was enough to make him chuckle.

"I'll take that as a yes," He chuckled, continuing to stroke and suckle upon your sweet spot. "And, I'm guessing you want to cum again? Is that right~?"

You nodded quickly, unable to form words just then. Not with his mouth and fingers working their magic on you. He gave you no chance to respond anyway, plunging three fingers deep into your quivering folds. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making your toes curl and your stomach tighten up. You could barely breathe properly, so much was happening down below. Your whole lower half seemed to be filled by a powerful tingle that threatened to send you flying off the edge.

But somehow, despite being wracked with such intense sensations, you managed to stay grounded. Because Jeongin wasn't done with you quite yet. His fingers remained lodged inside you, pumping in and out of your hot core while his tongue licked its way across your swollen bud. At this point, you were beyond ready for another mind shattering climax. One more push from him, and you'd shatter completely.

"Jeongin..." You breathed out softly, moaning his name. "Please, just fuck me. I-I want you inside me..."

He looked up at you briefly, meeting your gaze before looking back downwards. He stared intently at where his fingers had been, watching as they disappeared into your clenching hole. Soon after, he brought them back to his lips, sucking on each digit like it was the tastiest thing in existence. You groaned loudly at that, feeling your legs tremble beneath you. As you watched, Jeongin's cock began to swell even larger than before. It grew longer until it hit your inner thighs, thickening and swelling even more. When it finally burst forth, you gasped aloud.

"Oh fuck!" You squealed out loud, staring wide eyed at the massive erection now standing proudly in front of you.

It was beautiful too, jutting out from his groin and pointing upwards. Its shaft was red, pink, and purple all at once, pulsating slightly. There was an impressive amount of pre-cum oozing out of its tip, which was only further proof how turned on Jeongin really was. The sight alone caused your own arousal to spike, sending wave after wave of heat surging through your body.

Even without touching yourself, you felt incredibly sensitive, almost painfully aroused. As you gazed down at Jeongin's magnificent length, he took hold of your hips firmly, pulling you close. With one hand gripping your hip tightly, he guided his cock towards your waiting entrance. You whimpered softly, shuddering as his cockhead pressed against your tight opening. But instead of entering you, Jeongin held himself there for several moments.

He didn't move any farther, merely teasing your insides with his girthy cock.

"How bad do you want me?" Jeongin whispered huskily, leaning forward so his mouth was right next to yours. "Do you need my dick inside of you? Do you crave it...?"

"I—" You began, but you were cut off when his lips pressed against yours, kissing you deeply. For a few seconds, he continued to kiss you, stealing your breath away with every touch of his soft lips. A moment later, however, he broke apart, leaving you gasping for air.

"Answer me." Jeongin said sternly, his voice low and raspy.

"Y-Yes," You breathed out, panting heavily. "Yes, I want you inside of me!"

His smile widened as he leaned closer still, his face mere inches from yours. Before you knew what was happening, Jeongin pulled you flush against his chest, holding you securely in place. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pinning you between his muscular arms. In response, you laid your hands over his broad shoulders, clinging tightly onto him. After all, you needed something to keep you steady. Something to stop you from falling to pieces. And right then, he was exactly that.

With little effort, Jeongin slid his rock hard member into your slick pussy, filling you entirely. You moaned loudly, buckling as he stretched your tender walls. He paused only long enough to give you time to adjust, before sliding his full length into you once again. Over and over, he pushed his throbbing cock inside of you until both your bodies were covered in sweat. By the end, you couldn't feel anything except Jeongin's hot flesh buried deep within you. Every inch of his length was stuffed inside your wet depths, stretching you wider than ever before.

Suddenly, he withdrew, causing you to cry out in protest. You reached for him desperately, trying to grab hold of his thick shaft. Only to find that he was already gone, having slipped free of your grip. You weren't sure why, but you felt something leak from you. The feeling made you gasp, unable to hide your surprise. However, you soon realized that you were leaking fluid everywhere. Your entire crotch area was soaked, glistening with your juices. Squirting fluids from your slit like some kind of fountain.

"You're dripping honey all over my bedsheets." Jeongin murmured, smiling at you sweetly. "Isn't that cute~?"

The sudden words caused you to freeze. "H-Honey?"

"Mhm. It's pretty amazing, isn't it? That my tongue and cock alone could make such a mess~" Jeongin chuckled quietly.

Your cheeks burned brightly as you glanced down, seeing your swollen sex leaking clear liquid onto the sheets below. Not only did it look obscene, but it also sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. Jeongin must have noticed because he smirked darkly, reaching up and cupping your cheek.

"Don't feel embarrassed. I like watching you get messy." He purred, tilting your head back so he could gaze into your eyes. "Especially since this is just the beginning..."

[seijorhi]

Reminiscent

i’m (semi) back, y’all, and i come bearing a fic!! fhdjhfjdk it’s for oikawa i won’t apologise

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

TW non-con, drunk/drugged reader, forced infidelity, emotional manipulation, angst, past trauma, coercion, mild(ish?) smut, nsfw

“F-fuck, cutie! Just like – hah– just like that!”

You weren’t the clubbing type.

Not usually, at least – but exams were over and one of your friends was fresh off a bad breakup, one night letting loose wouldn’t hurt.

Walking is… difficult, your steps are sloppy – there’s an arm wrapped around your waist, your own slung over a stranger’s shoulders. Why are you outside? Where are your friends – they… they promised they wouldn’t leave you. 

“She good, dude?”

A soft, pretty laugh rumbles at your side, “Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.”

And you remember the bar, the overpriced cocktails and the saccharine sweetness of strawberry liquor on your tongue. The dizzying lights and the bass that thumped so loudly you felt it reverberate in your chest. You knew the rules; they’d been drilled into you since you were sixteen years old.

Stick together, don’t accept drinks from strangers, and watch the one in your hand like a hawk - it doesn’t leave your sight.

A tongue between the valley of your breasts, long fingers curling up inside of you. 

“You like that, huh pretty girl? You gonna cum for me?”

They wouldn’t have just abandoned you, right? Maybe you told them to go. Maybe they thought you wanted it; to go home with the handsome stranger.

You never had the guts to ask them, never spoke about that night again. Not to anyone.

Pain. Something thrusting inside of you, splitting you open while he moans and pants atop you. It hurts so much and you want it to stop. 

Please stop. Please. Please. Please.

You’re begging, at least you think you are, but the words come out jumbled and wrong, and he just laughs, hiking up your thigh so he can fuck you deeper.

Why won’t he stop?

When you wake up, bruised and sore and all alone in your bed, it feels like a bad dream. You know it’s not – not with cum still seeping from between your thighs, the scent of the stranger’s cologne clinging to your sheets.

And you scrub your skin raw in the shower, but it isn’t enough to rid you of his touch.

—

It’s nothing like what they show on tv.

There’s no sympathetic detective to pat you on your shoulder while you break down, swearing that they’ll find the man who did this and you’ll get your justice.

You don’t go to the cops because you’ll know what they’ll say. You were drunk, drugged, and even if you could remember what he looked like (his eyes were brown, you think, and there’s a flash of a smirk in your head but the moment you try to focus on it it slips away like smoke) any evidence of rape washed down the drain the moment you stepped into the steaming shower.

At least… that’s what you tell yourself. It’s easier than admitting you’re terrified of judgemental eyes. 

Or worse; pitying ones.

So you pretend that nothing happened. You show up to your classes and throw yourself into studying, make the time to get coffee with your friends, you even pick up a part time job – it’s good to keep busy. 

The nightmares are just that; nightmares.

And things are fine, until they’re not.

—

“Baby, you’re here!!”

There’s barely time to drop your bags before she’s pulling you into a warm hug. “Hi mom,” you reply, squeezing her back.

When she draws back to take you in, one hand cupping your cheek, she frowns, “You look tired sweetheart. Have you been sleeping enough?”

“Yeah, just tired from exams and stuff.”

She looks unconvinced, but mercifully doesn’t push the issue. Of course, you don’t tell her that you missed your last two exams because you’d walked past some guy wearing that same cologne and just choked – that instead of finishing off your semester strong, you’d spent the day alternating between throwing up and crying in bed.

She doesn’t need to know that, because of that, you’ll probably fail both classes and have to retake them again next semester on top of an already full course load. It’s fine; you’ll figure it out.

For now, you work on matching her enthusiasm at having you home, grabbing your bags to bring them inside and into your old room.

“Oh, wait–”

Abruptly, you pause, gazing in confusion from the doorway of your bedroom. There’s a duffle bag lying open and empty atop your bed, a tangled jump rope, some weights, an empty bottle, a sweat towel – even what looks like a spare workout tee scattered haphazardly across the sheets.

“… I didn’t take you for a gym junkie, mom.”

She stops behind you, sighing. “It’s not mine it’s– Tooru said he was going to tidy it up, sorry sweetheart.” She sweeps past you to start tidying it up, but not before you catch sight of her wide eyed, deer in headlights expression.

And you can’t help the lone eyebrow that rises, falling back against the doorframe, arms folding across your chest. “Tooru, huh?” you grin, “And who might Tooru be?”

The flustered, almost guilty look she sends you makes you want to laugh – this is easy, comfortable, this you can do – but you restrain yourself. Just. “Tooru is… he’s– well, he’s the man I’m… seeing.”

She admits it like she’s confessing to a crime, eyes all wide and nervous; anticipating your reaction. And you suppose it’s not unwarranted. As far as you’re aware, she’s been alone ever since the day your dad walked out on you both – raising you was always the priority, or maybe the excuse. But you’re not fourteen anymore, you don’t need another father figure or every spare bit of her time and attention, and she doesn’t need your approval for this.

So you smile at her, “Is he nice?”

She lights up, her features – almost a mirror image of your own – softening as she beams, “He’s amazing, honey. I honestly don’t know how this whole thing really happened, or why he’s even interested in someone like me but… I lucked out with him.”

And so it goes, you prying little bits of information about the mysterious Tooru as the afternoon passes.

She tells you that they met a few months back, at the bakery she likes in town – and how she kept running into him; at the grocery store, and then at the park, and then on her way back from yoga that one night.

She tells you that he’s a terrible flirt, all smooth and charming with warm, pretty brown eyes, but he’s a good man beneath it all and she’s never met anyone like him. 

It strikes you, as you watch your mom animatedly talk about him, that you’ve never seen her look like this before. 

Happy. 

She can’t stop smiling, and when you look at her, really look, she’s almost a different person – younger somehow, a bit more care-free. It suits her, and you wonder with a slight pang in your heart how you never noticed how lonely she was before.

And she’s adamant that they’re taking things slowly, that he still has an apartment of his own in town – which to be honest, you really aren’t gonna judge her on either way – but it is kind of funny simply because whether your mom realises it or not, it’s clearly a lie.

The subtle reclaiming of your bedroom aside, there’s traces of Tooru scattered all around the house; the extra toothbrush and aftershave you’d spotted in the bathroom, the men’s  shoes and the jacket by the door, red wine in the cupboard when your mom’s only ever indulged in white.

You haven’t been into her bedroom, but at this point you’d hazard a guess that there’s at least one drawer full of Tooru’s clothes, probably half her closet cleared out for him as well.

“He’s coming for dinner, but I just wanted today to be just us,” she says, reaching across the couch to squeeze your hand. And you’re grateful for it, because you’re happy for her – you are – but you’re not so sure how you would’ve handled meeting the stranger holding your mother’s heart first thing. At least, not after the last few days.

Not when you still feel all… brittle. 

—

Tooru arrives a little after seven, and to say that he’s not entirely what you were expecting is kind of an understatement. 

She’d gushed about how tall and handsome he is – though personally, you think pretty’s the more accurate word, what with his soft, delicate features, perfect cupid’s bow lips and all. What she’d neglected to tell you was that the man in question, stepping through the front door with a faint smile on his face, has to be at least ten years younger than her, mid-thirties at most.

Suddenly, your mom’s initial reluctance to bring him up starts to make sense.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he murmurs, stopping by your mom to drop a fleeting kiss to her cheek before warm brown eyes turn to you. 

Your heart stutters.

“Sweetheart,” your mom begins, slipping an arm around his waist and relaxing into his side, “this is Tooru– Oikawa,” she corrects herself.

He smiles at you, friendly and charming, “It’s great to finally meet you, your mom’s told me so much – all good things, of course!”

You force yourself to smile in return, “Yeah, you too.” 

There’s nothing overtly wrong with Oikawa, age difference aside – your mom’s clearly head over heels in love with the guy and on a surface level he seems nice enough, but you find yourself glad for the fact that he doesn’t make a move to step closer, try to shake your hand or god forbid hug you or something like that.

He’s nothing but a gentleman as your mom steps back into the kitchen to finish off dinner, setting the table without being prompted, pouring a glass of wine for your mom and one for himself before he offers a glass to you. 

“Oh, no I’m alright, thanks.”

You don’t drink so much anymore. He shrugs, like it’s no big deal but your mom pouts at you from the kitchen. “C’mon, sweetie. We’re celebrating tonight! One drink won’t hurt.”

“We’re celebrating?” you ask.

She throws you a wink, gaze softening as she turns to glance at Oikawa, already diligently pouring you a glass, “Of course we are. It’s not every day my girl comes home, and it’s nice having you both here with me.”

Oikawa’s fingers brush against yours for a fleeting second as he passes you the glass, and you have to fight to keep yourself from ripping your hand away. It’s nothing, you just– you’re not good with strangers touching you, and as nice as he is and as much as your mom might be infatuated with him, he is still a stranger.

“Absolutely,” he agrees, a playful twinkle in his eye as he clinks his wine glass against yours. “So you’re at uni, right? What are you studying?”

Uni’s the last thing you want to be thinking about right now, but whether or not Oikawa genuinely cares, he’s obviously trying to make an effort to get to know you. For your mother’s sake, grinning innocuously in the kitchen as she adds the last little touches to dinner, you suck it up, plaster a smile across your face and ignore the twinge of discomfort in your gut.

You can handle one night of small talk.

—

You wake the following morning to the sound of voices carrying down the hall.  

Not your mother’s – both are too deep, and your mom left a few hours ago for work. Figuring that one of them at least is likely Oikawa, you pull on a thin, satin robe over your pajamas, tying the sash in a loose knot before you slip from the room.

Those suspicions are proven correct; you round the corner to find Oikawa sitting up at the kitchen counter, a warm cup of coffee in his hand. There’s another man, a touch shorter, but imposing with dark, spiky hair and olive green eyes standing on the other side, hands braced on the marble top, glaring at Oikawa.

They both look up at the sound of your hesitant approach, the stranger abruptly straightening up, while Oikawa merely grins.

“Ah, you’re up,” he observes cheerfully, taking a sip of his coffee.

Your eyes flicker between him and the stranger – clearly comfortable enough in your home and with Oikawa, despite the faint, lingering irritation still visible on his face – and as your cheeks warm, you find yourself wishing you’d put actual clothes on before coming out to investigate.

“I- I heard voices…” you trail off, awkwardly folding your arms over your chest. “Is mom–”

“At work,” he supplies. “Do you want some breakfast? Coffee, maybe?”

You risk another glance at the other man, watching you now with an unreadable expression, dark eyebrows furrowed. You swallow uncomfortably, shifting slightly as you shake your head. “No, I-I’m okay.”

And in an instant, a flash, something like recognition passes through those olive eyes. 

 Oikawa chuckles smoothly, finally tearing his eyes away from you to address his friend, “Iwa, stop being so rude. You’re scaring the poor thing.”

The stranger, Iwa, just scoffs. “You’re a real piece of shit, y’know?”

If he’s bothered by the scathing insult, Oikawa doesn’t show it, merely shrugging before turning his attention back to you with a smirk. “Ignore him, he’s just pissy this morning.”

You’d have to be a complete idiot not to sense the uncomfortable tension between the two of them – and now you. This is your home, but it feels like you’re intruding, like you’ve stumbled into a conversation you have no business hearing, but even if you wanted to leave your feet are rooted to the ground. 

“Besides,” Oikawa continues, “he was just leaving anyway, weren’t you, Iwa?” It’s almost a purr, the way he speaks, but even the silken words can’t entirely mask the razor sharpness that lies beneath. 

Goosebumps prickle along your arms.

Staring at you, Iwa opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but seemingly thinks better of it, snapping it shut with an audible click. He huffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

He spares you another glance on his way out, standing frozen by the hall. For a split second he slows, his scowl softening just a fraction–

“Iwa.”

It sounds like a warning, but he only rolls his eyes and huffs again. You think he’s going to walk out without another word to either of you, but he pauses once more, lingering by the entryway.

“You look a lot like your mother, anyone ever tell you that?”

He’s out the door before you can even think to reply, letting it slam shut in his wake. And you flinch at the harsh sound, something uneasy settling into the pit of your stomach–

“Hey,” Oikawa’s there by your side, his fingers entwining with yours. You hadn’t even heard him move. “Come sit, don’t worry about Iwa. He’ll get over it.”

His voice is soothing, you don’t pay attention to the words themselves, the implications there. You forget for a moment that you’re still in your pj’s, that you really don’t know him that well either, and mindlessly follow when he leads you to the couch and sits you down, taking the seat next to you.

And while your head’s still spinning, an uncomfortable feeling gnawing in the pit of your gut, Oikawa seems entirely unbothered by the turn of events, sighing contentedly as he stretches his long legs out, one arm sliding along the back of the couch behind you.

“Do your… friends usually just drop by like that?”

You don’t know where the words come from, or why that’s the first question on your mind, but when you glance over at him, Oikawa’s just watching you, an odd little half smirk playing on his lips. “Sometimes.”

His answer does little to soothe your unease. It’s really not a big deal, you know it’s not. Officially or not, this is his home too – you’re the one out of place. And if he wants to have people over when your mom’s not around, that’s fine, he can do whatever the hell he wants, but… 

You came home for peace. To hide away for a few days and pretend that everything’s just fine and you’re not one breakdown away from shattering entirely. You wanted your mom and the comfort of your old bedroom and safety and it’s fine – great, even – that she’s found somebody who makes her happy, but this– him and the weirdness with his friend and everything is just too much, and–

You don’t realise that your leg’s bouncing until Oikawa’s hand comes to rest on your bare thigh. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, an icy chill trickling down your spine as his thumb slowly strokes across the soft, plush skin. “Relax, cutie,” he coos, chuckling softly when you visibly flinch and squeeze your eyes shut.

“P-please don’t call me that,” you choke out, fighting against the wave of nausea rising up your throat. And it’s just like last time, his cologne, notes of vanilla and cedar and spice, swirling thick and heady around you. That phantom touch, the warmth of hands gripping too tight, unwanted kisses hot and eager against your skin. 

“No?” he asks, cruel amusement dripping from his tone. “Why not? I think it suits you, cutie.”

You want him to stop, to push him away, slap him – do anything really, but you’re frozen in place, shaking as the memories you’ve fought so hard to shove down come bubbling back to the surface. You can’t think straight, not with his hand sliding between your thighs, the warmth of his body pressing too closely against yours.

“Iwa was right, you know,” Oikawa murmurs, smoldering brown eyes drinking you in as you childishly shake your head, willing him away. His other hand catches your cheek, drawing your face back to him as tears well in your eyes, stubbornly clinging to your lashes. “She does look so much like you, the same eyes even.” 

He whispers it like a secret, nuzzling his nose against yours like a lover would as he sighs sweetly, “It’s the only reason I could stand it.”

And then he’s kissing you, the tenderness of his lips belied by iron fingers digging into your jaw when you whimper and try to wrench yourself free. 

It’s not like the nightmares that startle you awake in the middle of the night, gasping for air; hazy, broken recollections that fade the moment you try to reach for them. No, every touch, every moment of his assault passes in stark clarity.

The feel of Oikawa’s mouth as it trails greedily down your neck, his hand sliding under the cotton of your sleep shorts, even his pleased little hum when he realises you’re not wearing panties. “Such a good girl for me. Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

This time there’s no drugs in your system keeping you pliant and helpless, but that doesn’t make a difference. Not when his words echo in your head, playing again and again until every awful, sickening piece falls into place.

Long, nimble fingers stroke at your folds, and you can’t help the shivery gasp that leaves you when the tip of his middle finger sweeps over your clit. 

“Please– please don’t do this,” you sniffle.

Oikawa presses another fleeting kiss to your shoulder, “Shh, none of that. Let me help you, baby.”

“N-no, I don’t, I don’t– Stop!”

Knocking away the hands that try to push him back, he hooks his fingers over the hem of your shorts and slides them down your legs, your pitifully weak struggles only making things easier for him. It’s only when Oikawa reaches for his own zipper that panic truly strikes home.

You can’t just lie here and let this happen again. You won’t.

And like a switch flipped, you start to trash like a wild thing beneath him, the scream you’ve kept buried inside of you for months ripping itself free from your throat–

Only for the fingers that had been toying with your pussy to be shoved down your throat, cutting you off with a choked gurgle. As you gag, fruitlessly try to tug yourself free, Oikawa leans in nice and close – except this time there’s no gentleness to his expression, nothing but viciousness as he grins and bares his teeth. 

“You wanna yell, pretty girl? Want the neighbours to come running, let them see me fuck you?” He grinds his hips against you, his breath shivery as he pants at the friction of his half hard cock against your side. Nausea twists at your gut, acrid and bitter – you want to be sick, to cry and beg with him to stop but with his fingers still stuffed in your mouth, his thumb digging into the soft underside of your jaw all you can manage is an unintelligible whine. He hums, kissing away the single hot tear that spills down your cheek, “You think if you cry loudly enough, mommy’ll come home and save you?”

And it’s like time stands still as he laughs, cruel eyes glinting when he presses down on your tongue, warm saliva pooling around his digits. “Such a little whore, trying to seduce her poor, innocent boyfriend the very moment her back’s turned. Tell me, cutie,” he coos, “who do you think she’d believe?”

Your breath hitches, another sob catching in your throat – even if you wanted to answer, you can’t and he knows it. “She’s in love with me, you know. It’s almost a little pathetic how easy it was to manipulate her into bed – so lonely… desperate for love, for somebody – anybody – to pay attention to her, take care of her,” he sneers, distaste curling at his lips. “Wouldn’t it just break her fragile little heart to know she’s fallen for the man who raped her baby girl?”

Another garbled cry slips past his fingers and you can only watch in frozen horror as his other hand drifts back to his zipper. “You want to protect her, don’t you?”

His grip relents just enough for you to jerk a shaky nod.

“Pretty girl, so good for me.” Another kiss pressed to your cheek as the quiet hiss of his zipper fills the air around you. “It’ll be our little secret, hmm? She doesn’t need to know just yet, let her be happy a little while longer…”

Sliding down his briefs just far enough for his cock to spring free, he strokes it for a moment with slow, leisurely movements, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches your eyes widen. 

And when he pulls you forward, guides your mouth towards it, pre-cum beading at the tip, withdrawing his fingers so you can quickly gasp for air, you just… let him.

The fight’s gone, as quickly as it had come. 

You let his fingers curl through your hair, use it as an anchor when your lips part to force his cock between them. And he moans, low and shivery as your tongue slides along the underside of his shaft and you try not to gag around the sudden intrusion. 

You think that there’s no room left inside of you for shame, but as his other hand creeps back between your legs, teasing at your cunt, you burn with it, clinging to the pyre of your own humiliation and disgust.

And still, you kneel on the couch, letting him fuck your mouth, letting those long, pretty fingers curl up inside of you – moaning around his cock when they stroke that perfect little spot.

“I wanted to – shit – take this slow,” he tells you as his hips jerk upwards, shuddering in breathless delight when his cock hits the back of your throat and it convulses around him. “I wanted to make you want me.”

Wet, messy, gags sound with every unwitting thrust – you’ve no choice but to swallow him down, let him fuck your throat like you’re nothing more than a toy for his pleasure. There’s saliva coating your chin, dripping down the length of his dick, pooling around his balls. You can barely breathe, a task made even harder when Oikawa decides to add his thumb into the mix, teasing your clit while he fucks you apart on his fingers.

It feels so fucking good, and you’ve never hated yourself more.

Your throat burns, hot tears stinging in the corners of your eyes, and yet he’s intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity with every calculated flick of his wrist. Something tightens in your belly, a spring coiled too tight, ready to snap, and you can’t help it when your hips chase his fingers, the needy, shameful little whimpers that leave your lips (still wrapped around his thick, twitching cock) as you search for the pleasure to temper the discomfort.

“You don’t have a clue what you do to me, do you? I could barely sleep last night–” 

You choke back a moan, your pussy clenching around his digits, sucking them deeper as white spots pepper your vision and you shudder out a moan.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he pants, but you don’t care – can’t, not when you’re riding his fingers, tongue lolling out as he gives you a moment’s reprieve to bask in the rippling afterglow of your orgasm before everything comes crashing back down around you. 

Oikawa lets you fall back against the cushions, breathless, trembling and dazed. You’re not stupid enough to believe that’s the end of it, not when his cock’s still hard, throbbing against his toned stomach when he gives it a slow, cursory pump.

“Lie back, cutie,” he whispers, keeping his eyes fixed on you as he pushes himself up off the couch to shed the rest of his clothes.

And as you shuffle obediently downwards, heart hammering in your chest, you find you can’t tear your eyes away from him either.

Tall and handsome, she’d said, but the words truly don’t do him justice. A body corded with lean, powerful muscle, golden, sun-kissed skin, a light smattering of dark hair trailing from his navel down past the well defined V of his hips… 

“See something you like?” he teases, smirking when you squeak and childishly jerk your face away, cheeks burning. “It’s okay to look, you know. I don’t mind the attention.”

It feels too soft, too intimate for what this is. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s not supposed to be attractive, or to make you enjoy your own assault, and you– you’re supposed to fight it, fight him instead of just lying there and taking it… 

But when he climbs back onto the couch, easing your still trembling thighs apart to settle himself between them, his touch is nothing short of reverent, dark eyes wide and adoring as you squirm uneasily beneath him. 

With one hand braced on the cushion beside you, his cock resting just above your aching sex, he leans forward, easing your top up past your tits. “Perfect,” he murmurs.

And it’s enough to make a fresh bout of humiliated tears spring to your eyes. Your hands curl into useless fists at your side as he settles back onto his knees and takes his cock in hand, hissing in pleasure when he glides the flushed, leaking head along your slick folds.

“Fuck, cutie. I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he laughs, biting down on his bottom lip as he watches hot, fat tears slip down your cheeks. With an agonisingly slow pace, Oikawa lines himself up with your cunt and presses in – even with how wet you are, one orgasm already wrung from you, the stretch burns and you can’t stop the choked gasp that leaves you.

His eyes flutter shut, head thrown back back as inch by inch his cock sinks into your pussy until finally he bottoms out with a satisfied groan. “Perfect for me, so fucking good,” he pants, and you barely have time to drag in a breath before his hips are drawing back, another desperate, strangled mewl escaping you.

Bruising fingers dig into your waist, Oikawa cursing as your plush little cunt flutters maddeningly around him– before he eagerly slams his cock forward, stuffing you full once more.

And as you sob and whimper between every wet, obscene squelch of his dick fucking into your soaked pussy, that all too familiar, shameful heat begins to pool in your core.

“Gonna cum for me again, cutie?”

[ava-achlys]

The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Lee Jaehyun (Hyunjae) - Intoxicated [Requested]

Request: dom Hyunjae + overstimulation

badboy! ceo! Hyunjae x PA! fem! reader

Warnings: petnames, dirty talk, slight degradation, a lot of grinding lol, some choking, Hyunjae is a narcissist here

Finally finished this one for @jaepocket ! Thanks for requesting, I hope you like it 💕hope you don't mind that I made Hyunjae an asshole lol

Work parties have taken a toll on your boss, and as the best personal assistant in the world, you help him home.

You kept a watchful eye over your boss throughout the Christmas party. Year-end parties were lined up back-to-back for the most influential entrepreneur under 30 in Seoul. Jaehyun was being extra charming tonight, wooing men and women alike with his dazzling smile, charisma, and powerful aura. He knew he was untouchable, and it showed in his walk. Long legs that could rival any model, perfectly coiffed light brown hair, and a designer tailored suit hugging him in all the right places, showing off his broad shoulders. He glances over to you, and shoots you a wry smile from across the room. No one else might have noticed, despite the fact that everyone who spoke to him couldn't take their eyes off him, but a subtle flush dusted his cheeks and there was a slight glassiness in his eyes that alerted you. Jaehyun has definitely had too much to drink. You stride over to him, and he politely excuses himself from the flock of older women giggling and sidling up to him, and meets you halfway on the dance floor.

He walks to you with a slight wobble, and reaches out to steady himself... by grabbing your hips. "Hey you," he grins, thumbs softly rubbing your waist through the thin material of your dress. You resist the shiver that runs down your spine, the warmth emanating from his hands a welcome sensation since the place was freezing. A mansion full of people and it was still cold? The hosts hadn't bothered to turn the heaters on. That's probably how the rich stay rich, you supposed. It definitely didn't help that you were wearing a skin-tight cocktail dress, with a little slit up the thigh. "Sir, I think you've had enough to drink tonight," you murmur, gently tucking a lock of golden hair back into place. Jaehyun grimaced. He had a glass of wine with every group that approached him that night, and he wasn't feeling too well now, considering everyone wanted to meet with the Lee Jaehyun™, one of Seoul's most prominent and eligible bachelors.

"Let's get you home then, sir, you really need some rest. Or rather, your liver does," you sigh, offering your arm for him to hold on to so he doesn't fall flat on his face in public, possibly ruining his reputation. He lets out a hearty laugh, and intertwines his arm with yours, trying to maintain a power walk out of the place, nodding at other party-goers that greet him in passing. He gratefully gulps the fresh air outside as you wait for his chauffeur to pull up in his stupidly expensive limousine, helping him to clamber gracefully into the backseat once it arrives. You're about to shut the door to book a ride home for yourself when he tugs on your arm, a blazing fire in his eyes as he looks up at you, and you know he wants you to come home with him tonight.

You glance around quickly, making sure no one is watching you get into the car with him, but really, who would question a PA ensuring that her drunken boss gets home safely? You quietly slip into the plush leather seats, leaving a space between you two just in case he feels stuffy or nauseous. Jaehyun roughly loosens his tie, and you can't help but stare at his large, veiny hands. Before you can snap out of it, he catches your eye and smirks, using those very hands to yank you closer, almost sitting on his lap. You yelp in surprise, your hands flying up to his broad shoulders. He smashes his lips onto yours, messy with tongue and teeth and a moan escapes you when you taste the sweet alcohol on his tongue. His warm hands roam all over your body, deftly pulling up the hem of your short dress so he can run his hands up your thighs and grope your plump behind. "Been staring at your ass all night, who said you could wear a dress like this?" he growls against your lips, squeezing the flesh tightly to prove his point.

You weakly push him away, and he stares at you, offended that you don't seem to want him, when you're usually so pliant and obedient for him. "I don't think we should do this, sir, you're not thinking straight," you stutter. Jaehyun barks out a laugh, startling you. "Am I? I'm not drunk, kitten, I only spoke and acted like that so we could get out of that damned party. And maybe I'm not thinking straight, because all I've been thinking about the whole time is ripping that fucking dress off your body, you fucking minx," he snarls, grabbing you again and manhandling you to straddle his lap, sounding completely clear and level-headed. He had everyone fooled; even you, and a crushing disappointment engulfs your heart.

You don't get to feel sorry for yourself though, because Jaehyun is pulling you close, grinding the obvious bulge in his slacks against your clothed pussy as he makes out with you again. You let him run his hands all over you, feeling his lips trail down the side of your lips and down your neck, smudging your lipstick everywhere. Jaehyun doesn't care, clearly, he just wants to make a mess out of you, and you gladly let him, both of you so absorbed in each other that you didn't feel the car roll to a stop. You hadn't even noticed the opaque partition had been pulled up until you heard the electronic buzz of it being lowered, and the indifferent voice of the chauffeur came through. "We've arrived at your destination, sir and miss."

Without so much as a thank you, Jaehyun flings the door open and tugs you into the building's lobby. He owns the whole building obviously, but he lives in the penthouse suite, swiping his keycard to unlock his private elevator. He wastes no time attaching his lips to the back of your neck as he presses you up against the walls of the elevator, grinding on your ass the whole way up. He leaves you panting when the doors open, and he goes to punch in his keycode. The lock beeps, and Jaehyun snarls when he's halfway through the door and you're still lagging behind, knees too wobbly to walk properly thanks to his earlier ministrations. "What are you waiting for kitten?" You shake your head, embarrassed that sloppy make-outs and grinding like lovesick teenagers is enough to make your head spin.

Jaehyun strides towards the bedroom, stripping his expensive clothes as he went, but instead of making a right turn to the master bedroom as he usually does, he makes a left to the guest bedroom. You don't have time to ponder, because he's pulling you in and shoving you onto the bed, dark eyes staring you down as he fumbles with his belt. The intensity of his gaze makes you tremble. Is it from fear, excitement, or a morbid combination of both? He finally gets all his clothes off, and his hard cock is swinging heavily with every step he takes towards the bed. He prowls, like a predator, and you're too petrified to even strip or prepare yourself, but apparently that didn't matter to him.

"You still on the pill?" Jaehyun demands, and you nod feverishly. "Good." And with that he rips your lacy panties off in one fluid motion, and hikes your dress up to bunch up around your waist. You hear the material rip, but before you could bemoan the hefty price tag, Jaehyun slides his throbbing cock inside you, making you arch your back as you moan loudly at the intrusion. He gives you barely any time to adjust, knowing how much you like taking it raw, and starts thrusting harshly. You can't help but moan loudly, almost going cross-eyed from the mixture of pain and pleasure. You clamp a hand over your mouth when a particularly shrill moan slips from your lips, but Jaehyun tugs it away, wanting to hear how good he makes you feel. It's nothing more than an ego boost for him, but you comply.

Jaehyun gets sick of missionary fairly quickly. He does enjoy seeing your pretty face contort with pleasure, and watch your makeup run. But he likes fucking you from the back even more, loves the way you get on all fours for him, loves the way your ass jiggles when he spanks you, and loves how your legs give way when he's done making you see stars. He pulls out for a moment, flipping you over onto your hands and knees easily, ignoring the surprised gasp you make when he shoves his cock back into you. He picks up the pace, hitting your g-spot dead-on with this new angle. He wraps a hand around your throat, the expensive gold bands adorning his fingers pressing delightfully into your windpipe. He squeezes lightly as he slams into your core, and you scream, climaxing without warning.

The sudden clench around Jaehyun's dick has him swearing lowly. "Did I say you could cum, kitten? You know you have to ask for permission," he grunts, fucking you through your orgasm, maintaining his relentless pace. Your head is foggy, and you try to apologize, but every sharp thrust Jaehyun makes cuts your words off. He doesn't let up, using you to chase his own climax, slightly aggravated by yours. He presses down the middle of your shoulder blades, pushing you down further into the sheets so you're not holding yourself up with your hands anymore. You're grateful, because you can barely support yourself anymore, and you need a break. Except he doesn't give you one, hoisting you up by the hips to pummel even faster and harder into you, and your upper half is practically dragging along the sheets with every snap of his hips.

The delightfully torturous graze of silk sheets against your raw nipples, and the rough pads of Jaehyun's fingers relentlessly abusing your swollen clit sends you teteering close to the edge again. You can't cum, no, you won't cum until he tells you to. You want to be good for him, even though you're so close to climax again that it hurts. You hold out, gripping the sheets so hard that your knuckles turn white, when a particularly hard press against your clit and a low growl of "Cum for me now, kitten" sends you screaming once more, vision turning white as your searing-hot orgasm rips through your body.

You barely register Jaehyun's groan as he continues grinding into your g-spot, your pussy clenching almost painfully tightly around him, milking his cock dry as he blows his load deep into your warmth. You collapse forward onto the bed, trembling from exhaustion, chest heaving desperately to replenish your lungs with oxygen. Your whole body is sore and you know it's probably going to be worse tomorrow, and dark fingerprints are going to decorate your skin too. Above you, Jaehyun is still holding your hips up, pulling out of you with a grunt, cock hanging limply as he pants harshly. He watches idly as his cum drips out of your abused cunt, trickling down your legs, and drops your legs unceremoniously.

He stretches his legs, and gathers his sweat-drenched, possibly cum-stained designer clothing off the floor as he walks towards the door. "Clean yourself up, you know where everything is. I need you in the office early tomorrow morning." Jaehyun utters without so much as a glance back at your naked body, and the door shuts behind him with a loud click that echoes through the suddenly cold room. You hear him humming to himself and drawing a bath, and you shut your eyes, trying to suppress a sob at how horrible you feel, both physically and emotionally. Sex with Jaehyun was always hot, rough and mind-blowing, but recently you realize you always felt empty afterwards. Because he'll immediately turn cold once he's gotten his fix, leaving you to clean up after yourself and sometimes even make you hail a cab to go home afterwards. At least tonight he let you stay over, even though it's in the cum-stained bed in the guest room, without any post-coital care.

As you lay there, fresh hot tears stream down your cheeks, and you wonder if all the alcohol in the world could wash away the pain you felt of being used as Jaehyun's personal fucktoy; manipulating you into catering to his every whim and then carelessly throwing you aside once he's done.

[elvensorceress]

WIP Wednesday woooooo

I was tagged by my darlings @ekstasisandangst​ and @constructiononsunset​ 🤗💕

so here is more of my magic AU, Love Spell, but this time tiny little Buck 😍 (and Maddie of course)

tagging @fleurdebeton​ @eddiediazisascorpio​ @homerforsure​ @dearestdiaz​ @oldsouldreamer85​ @gayedmundodiaz and anyone who wants to share 💕💕💕

Maddie is obviously magical. 

She smiles and it’s sweet like fresh cinnamon rolls, pretty like delicate daisies, and when she picks him up and hugs him tightly, Evan doesn’t hurt anymore. 

She says he’s getting too big for her to lift because he’s growing so fast, but she picks him up anyway and sets him on the bathroom counter. 

He wipes his face with the back of his hand but it only rubs more gravel into his cheek. He sniffs instead and more tears slip from his eyes. It doesn’t hurt though. Maddie will take care of him.

She runs the sink water until it’s warm and takes his hand first. She’s so gentle and focused — her face gets all scrunchy, which means she’s concentrating is what she’s told him — and she cleans up hands and arms, his bloody knees and face, and then tickles his side so he’ll laugh. 

She frowns at his scrapes with raw, red oozy skin and kneels down so she can dig through the drawers below him. There are bandages in there and liquid that stings but she puts it on him anyway. Every single time. Even when he protests and squirms. Sometimes, she gets out the gooey cream and lightly smears that on him before she wraps up his wounds. 

But today after she cleans him up, she says, “I want to try something. Okay? Can you hold really still?”

Evan sniffs again and nods. He’s brave. It’s not bad. It doesn’t hurt much. It’s nice when she takes care of him. It makes his insides warm and fuzzy. He loves when she hugs him because he’s safe then and it’s like when she shows him how to make cookies and tiny cakes and he’s full of melty chocolate and fruity frosting and Maddie’s love. 

No one else likes hugs. 

But Maddie does. He’d do anything for Maddie. 

She gives him a smile and holds his left hand in one of hers so his palm is facing up toward her. It’s now free of dirt and crumbly rocks but it’s scraped and bright red. She breathes deeply and her eyes flutter, and she moves her free hand over his, not touching but it’s close enough that he can feel the warmth that always comes from her. 

Her fingers draw a circle above his hand and they go round and round and round so many times. His skin tingles and feels cool instead of warm, but a nice kind of cool. Like a pool in the summer when it’s too hot out. 

When she takes her hand away, his skin is pink instead of red and the raw scrapes and torn pieces look filled in with something pale and kind of purple. 

He holds his hand up close to his face and touches where it was ripped up. It’s smooth now. The purple feels no different than his own skin. It doesn’t hurt either. He looks at her with wide eyes. “You fixed me! How did you do that?”

She smiles like sunshine, and she never smiles that brightly. “I’ve been practicing. It’s kind of like a bandaid, but it won’t fall off or get dirty. It should help you heal faster.” 

He knew it. She’s magical. Of course she is. 

She does the same to his right hand and then his knees and even his cheek. After, she helps him down from the bathroom counter. He’s better than he ever has been. Nothing can hurt him when Maddie is around. 

She touches the back of her wrist to her forehead and looks… not right. Not like herself anymore. She’s tired and her face is sweaty. She’s also pale and leans into the wall to steady herself. 

He reaches for her as if he can help her stay upright even if he’s maybe half as tall as she is. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

She exhales and it’s whistle-y like it’s thin. “I’m fine. Just a little tired. I haven’t done that spell that many times in a row before. But you don’t need to worry.” She smiles and waves away his arms, then goes to her bedroom and lies down. 

She’s asleep almost immediately, but he sits outside, right in her doorway, and watches her breathe because that means she’s okay. Maddie told him if someone is breathing, that means they are still alive. 

She told him not to worry. Evan very much worries anyway. 

[whumpsday]

Celeste and Kane:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

(CW: female conditioned vampire whumpee, "it" as a pronoun, nonverbal whumpee, multiple whumpees, burns, broken bones, manhandling)

He didn't know.

He didn't know.

The hunter had hurt it like that, hurt both of the vampires, because he didn't know. He didn't know that it was here for training.

Which begged the question. If he wasn't here for training too... what was the other vampire here for?

The hunters let it down, only to pull the other vampire tighter to the silver bars. His shriek felt like an ice pick driving into its skull.

"Someone's been a naughty little pet," the new hunter, the one in charge, said, grabbing its chin and turning its head this way and that. "Biting's a pretty big deal. We'll get that trained out of you nice and good, though."

It nodded as much as it could with its head still in his grasp. It didn't mean to, it was a mistake, it would be so good.

The first hunter, the younger one, came back with a shirt in hand. It was a man's shirt. The style was old, but classic enough to not seem outdated. The fabric was high quality, too, higher quality than the one it had been wearing.

It flicked its eyes to the other vampire where he was still tied to the silver bars. Was this his, once upon a time?

The hunters ordered it to change into the new shirt, and it hastily obeyed. It winced at the touch of fabric against old and new wounds alike. It was just a stupid animal; it wasn't its place to question why they would tell it to put clean clothing over a fresh, seeping wound. It wasn't its place to think that letting a fresh burn breathe and scab over was better for healing.

The other vampire begged prettily enough to convince the hunters to let him down. Then they left, leaving the two vampires alone together.

He scooted closer, breathing heavily. Was it just pain making him breathe that way, or was it exertion as well? How long had he been starved, to cause such a reaction?

"Thank you again, for before," he said.

It cocked its head to one side, not understanding. It hadn't done anything worthy of thanks.

"For not pulling me into the silver," he explained. "Thank you."

It nodded. That wasn't... that wasn't anything special, that wasn't anything worthy of thanks.

But if he wanted to thank it? Well... The words were his to use, apparently.

He pointed at the ground inside its cell. It followed his gaze to the torn remains of its shirt.

"Can I have your old one?" he asked. Begged.

Why was he acting like that towards it? Surely he knew that it was just another worthless leech.

"Please?" he continued. "I'll reach through so you won't get burnt."

It set its useless thoughts aside for now and nodded. The garment was ripped, and probably too small for him anyway, but anything was better than what he currently had.

It gathered up the shirt and crawled the few steps needed to be back at the silver bars. It frowned, looking at the bars, then at the other vampire.

His hands were a wreck. He'd been wearing those silver shackles for a long time; the skin was long since burned away, leaving raw flesh. And his hands were big, too, far larger than its own. Its hands could have been called dainty once, before repeated breaking left the fingers gnarled and misshapen.

His hands wouldn't fit through the bars. Not easily. Not without burns.

But its could.

It furrowed its brow, thinking through how best to approach the problem. If it could wrap something around its hands, that would help keep it from burning. It would use the shirt, but then once the other vampire took that, it would be defenseless against the silver. And it wasn't willing to chance ripping its own wounds open again by taking off the shirt it had just been given....

Oh! Shirts weren't the only garments around here. It had a perfectly serviceable skirt as well.

It wriggled inelegantly to get everything into position. It hiked up its skirt above its knees—scandalous, if such things as modesty applied to vampires—and wrapped its arm in the fabric. Gripping the shirt through its makeshift protection, it gingerly slipped its arm through the bars.

Kane felt excitement gather in him when the other vampire nodded her approval. She approached with the cloth in hand, and he braced himself for the burn as he waited for her to hold it out so he could reach through and grab it.

Instead, the girl wrapped her hand in her skirt and handed him the cloth through the bars. He stared, awestricken, at the offering. Not only had she taken silver to her injured back to help him, not only had she graciously agreed to give him her shirt, but she was sparing him even further pain by turning down his proposal of reaching through the bars.

Kane took the cloth, holding it tight. There were no rewards for good behavior here, only the absence of extra punishment. It had been so long since he was given something, let alone in as generous a manner as this.

"Thank you." He started to cry, just a little bit, feeling a few tears run down his face. "No one's, no one's done something this nice for me in a very long time."

It was immediately apparent that the shirt was too small even for his starved body, not that it would be able to be worn normally anyway given its torn state. Kane was about to drape it over his shoulders when the other vampire made a motion with her hands, wrapping one hand around her thin wrist and then repeating the movement with the hands reversed.

Use it on your wrists.

Kane hadn't even considered the possibility of lessening the burning of his wrists, resigned to the constant searing pain there. He immediately took her suggestion, stuffing it in the space between the silver and his raw, burning flesh. Relief.

"This was a great idea, thank you!" He knew he sounded like a broken record at this point, but he was just so grateful. The other vampire's kindnesses were seemingly endless, four of them in just the short time she'd been here. Five, if you count her mere presence convincing the hunter to untie him from the bars. "I don't think so well anymore. I haven't fed in... years, I'm not sure how many."

When the girl looked alarmed, he hastily added, "I'm sure they'll feed you, though. They'll have to if you're here long enough, you're the other kind of vampire. You'll get animal blood, I bet." He looked down at his wrapped wrists. "I'm glad you get to leave instead of being here forever like me. You're too good for this place."

Confusion. Of course, she would have no idea of his situation. "I'm not a... pet? I'm not a pet like you." he explained. "I just exist to be hurt. I'm not getting out."

Kane slumped against the wall. He couldn't even find it in him to be jealous, not after all she'd done for him. Proof that she deserved to be allowed to leave, not like him.

"If there's ever anything I can do to repay you, I will." he promised. "I don't know if that would ever come around. I don't have much. I could speak for you, maybe. I don't know how you'd tell me what to say, though. Or if that would be against your rules too." He shrugged.

-

taglist:

@cupcakes-and-pain

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

[ashintheairlikesnow]

“I’m not telling you again.”

If you’re still doing the sentence prompts?

CW: Vampirism, blood drinking, minor whumpee (OC is 17), captivity, referenced dehydration and starvation, forced turning, wishing for death, religion

1905, somewhere outside New York City

-

"Come here, little one."

The boy presses himself back against the cold stone wall behind him. There's a cuff around one ankle, dull iron, and a chain that scrapes the floor when he moves. He swallows, shaking his head rapidly from side to side. Dirty hair falls dull over eyes that sparkle vibrant green in the near-total darkness.

He can't see her.

But she can see him.

"No." His voice is a whimper, a nearly-animal whine, pure fear. "Please, please, please no, not, not, not tonight, not... not tonight, please."

She sighs, chuckling fondly, and pulls a match across her palm to light the lamp that hangs on a hook down here. The wick catches flame, and now he sees the pale, pale skin, the deep red lips. The predator's gleam in glinting dark eyes.

She crooks a long, sharpened fingernail . He can see the hem of her dress, lace-edged, the skirt that sweeps up to curve her hips, the narrowed waist, the high neck. He's stared at illustrations of the Gibson girl put up in shop windows in stores that sell to richer women than he's ever known. She's an echo right down to the soft, upswept hair.

Like a man with an expensive coat hiding a knife, he thinks, that he means to slaughter you with. She's a monster who looks like an angel.

"I'm not telling you again. I'm hungry," She says, and gives a little pout. "I want you to feed me."

He pulls his arms in close, shaking his head again. Tears already threaten. He's so tired, all the time. There is never time enough to heal from one bite before the next and the next and the next-

"Come now, little pet. It's just one last time." Her voice is gentle, but he knows they lie. They all lie to get their fangs in you.

"What, what, what d'you mean?" The boy has a thick country Irish accent, still. Fresh off the boat, they call him when he tries to speak to the boys his age in his tenement. Half of them have accents like his, or thicker.

Not that he'll see any of them ever again.

Not since his parents-

Not since-

He chokes on a sob he can't quite hold back, turning at the waist to rub his fingers over the rough, cool stone. It helps. The motion, the texture, it helps. It calms him down, a little.

Everything here is wrong.

He misses home. He misses the green hills that were never so full of dirt ground in as the city streets are. He misses the air that didn't smell like offal day and night. He misses a world where it was all less overwhelming. He misses a world where his parents were alive to help him understand it.

"Oh, you're sad tonight," The monster wearing a woman's face says, taking the lamp off the hook and carrying it closer. The shadows dance off her cheekbones, they seem to give her a sneer rather than her soft smile. "Let Malorie be of aid to you. Tell me what you need, sweet boy."

"Can, can, can I have a-a drink? Miss?" His voice is hoarse from thirst, and he's parched. It has rained for two weeks and he's drunk the rainwater that leaks in through the walls, plus the few sips they give him each day. Food is a bit of moldy bread, cheese, maybe a thin soup. It isn't enough.

They don't seem to notice, or care.

But then food or water is something they left behind, isn't it?

"Hm." She steps forward, closer to him. Her eyes flash in the dark, reflect the bit of light, and he cringes back from her fangs as she smiles down at him. She moves to crouch before him, and sets the lamp down on the floor beside her. "Is it thirst that drives you, little one?"

"Please." His lips are chapped and cracked. He tastes blood, sometimes, and spits pink-tinged spit to blend with the soil beneath him. He tries to look pitiful - it's not hard to succeed. "Please. I'm, I'm so so so so... so thirsty, ma'am, just a cup, please-"

She looks down, unfastening the line of tiny pearl buttons on one sleeve, then rolling back the fabric to expose her wrist. A stray curl of dark hair falls down to brush her perfect cheekbone.

"Ma'am?" He can't understand what she's doing - none of them had ever started to undress in front of him before. "A drink, ma'am? Please?"

She looks up, and her eyes gleam like a cat's in the dark. Her teeth are very very white. He can see the venom shimmering on her fangs.

"A drink you want, you beautiful boy," She says, and he stares with uncomprehending horror as she moves her wrist towards her own mouth. "And a drink you shall have."

She tears her own wrist open with her teeth.

He gasps and tries to get up to run, but he's weak and dizzy and when she yanks at the chain that binds his ankle to the wall he goes down hard and lands with a thump, the breath knocked out of him.

While he wheezes air into lungs that won't take it, she pushes him onto his back and forces her wrist against his mouth, her other hand pinching his nose shut.

He cries out in horrified disgust against her cold skin and the thick brackish fluid that flows over his tongue. She stares down at him, avid, with huge eyes.

"Drink, sweet boy," She murmurs. "Quench your thirst."

He must drink or suffocate, and his body chooses for him. He swallows even as he gags, and swallows again, and she lets go of his nose so he can frantically pull in air, tears streaming to pool in the shells of his ears and soak into his grimy, dirty hair.

She is a blur through his terror, but her smile is written in stone in the yard beside a church.

"My turn," She says, and when she buries her fangs into his neck, the boy screams again.

And then goes limp as the venom takes hold, and the vampire begins to purr, her fingers gripped like claws into his shoulders.

There is no pain.

Only the fear.

I'm going to die, he thinks, and stares up into the darkness that wipes out even the lamplight. It seems like it's growing, within him and without.

His mouth is full of blood. It tastes better than it did when first she made him drink. The heaving of his stomach stops. He starts to swallow willingly, even eagerly. Nothing has ever quenched his thirst quite like this. It doesn't taste at all like he'd thought.

I'm going to die.

He wants to go home.

He wants more to drink.

He's so hungry.

He wants more blood.

When she pulls her wrist away, he whines and tries to grab at it, to pull it back. She laughs, swatting playfully at him.

"Not yet," She chides, wagging a finger. She licks her open wound and it closes. She laps at the remaining blood and he tries to sit up, to get some too, only for her to push him down again.

Then... pain.

Agony hits, a bright stripe straight up his spine, and he arches away from the ground, throwing his head back and screaming loud enough to bounce off all the walls. It recedes, and then comes again, through his stomach this time. The throb moves to his hips, thighs, into his calves and all the way to his toes.

He curls into a ball on his side, but the pain keeps growing. It takes over. He can't feel the floor he lays on, only the constant spark of nerves blaring alarm. He feels like he is being crushed under a rock, burned by the hottest fire, stabbed with a hundred knives.

"Wh, what, what's happening-... t'me?!" He coughs, and then sobs as the action hurts more than anything else ever has in his life.

"You're dying." She picks at her fingernails, already bored.

He turns to look up at her as she stands, licking her chops like a cat. Tears run down his face, and every time he blinks the air seems pink-tinged. "What...?"

"That's your body shutting down. You know, you're very fortunate." She wipes a droplet of the boy's own blood from the corner of her mouth and then sucks her finger clean. "Very few people get to be born twice. I'll see you tomorrow night. I would prefer if you didn't call me your mother."

Before he can even begin to form a question, she turns to walk away, hanging the lamp up on its hook as she goes, blowing out the flame.

The pain ripples again, he is broken like a brittle shell against the shore. His very bones feel as though they're tearing apart inside him.

He's going to die here.

And he won't stay dead. His parents will wait in Heaven for a demon son who will never be allowed to step foot into Paradise.

He gulps in air, lungs burning, and tries to remember the prayer through his panic. "Our Father, wh-who art in Heaven, hallowed be be be Thy Name-"

His throat blisters even saying the words, and when he tries to cross himself, his hand shakes too much, his joints crack and shatter. He can feel it, he can hear it. They crack and reform, break and bend.

He screams.

He screams until his throat is raw, until it bleeds, until his heart stops beating and blood runs from eyes and ears and from under his nails.

He whispers every prayer he's ever known when he can. He begs for salvation, he begs to be spared eternal bloodlust, he pleads for something other than damnation. He prays he'll see his parents in death and not become a monster like this.

His prayers are swallowed whole by darkness.

He dies, but he does not die for long.

-

Tag list:  @mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @endless-whump @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

[gukeobi]

New Beginnings (M)

pairing: werewolf!jeongguk x reader

genre: Slight angst, fluff (?), smut (jeongguk has a breeding kink, Alpha kink kinda, passionate jeongguk), kinda enemies to friends to lovers? lol 

words: 17.4k (i’m sorry)

warnings: blood mention, non present character death 

-----------

It was cold. Fresh snow covered the soft forest ground in a sheet of pure white, some delicately resting on the branches of the bare trees that lived around you as more continued to fall from the sky above. The iciness burned your bare hands, leaving them red, flushed and numb as your excited giggles rang throughout the empty forest like a mantra. 

You were only four years old, and every year since your birth you would visit your grandfather at his cabin in the woods. Your mother, his only daughter, had passed during childbirth and afterwards he had secluded himself to a simple cabin in the woods that was miles away from any form of civilization to continue his independent research studies. He was a retired wildlife biologist, his motivation to continue his work in a professional setting dying along with his only child. 

“Don’t wander too far now, Y/N,” Your grandfather called out to you, watching you from the patio with a smile on his face and a cup of coffee warming his hands through his thick gloves. You turned back to look at him and nodded in response to his request, cheeks flushed and a smile so wide it hurt. It was times like these in which you reminded him so much of his late daughter, the sparkle in your eyes and the snow melting in your hair.

 The thought caused a sharp pang of hurt to spread through his chest. 

Turning back to the snowy fortress in front of you, you continued to make your way through the vast never-ending whiteness with no true end goal in mind. You collected anything that caught your eye--pretty rocks, fallen leaves, and even a small collection of hellebore flowers which were hidden behind a naked tree. With your treasures held delicately in between your chubby red fingers and arms tucked tightly against your chest, your tiny legs weaved through the forest in continuously growing elation. 

Your excitement was short lived, however, when your lack of awareness resulted in your foot getting caught on a fallen branch.

“Ow,” you whispered gently, watching as blood stained the whiteness below you almost immediately. Your knee scraped against a sharp rock hidden beneath the snow during your fall, the fabric of your pants tearing upon impact and the objects that were once held protectively against your thick warm coat were now scattered across the forest floor in chaos. With tears clouding your vision, your hands gripped your bloody knee gently. 

The sound of your quiet weeps seemed to echo in the otherwise empty forest, bouncing against the trees and coming back to mock you for your obliviousness to your surroundings. The slight rustle of the snow covered bushes across from you managed to draw your attention away from your injury briefly, though what you saw was not at all what you expected.

Standing between two trees was a wolf. Its sleek black fur was a stark contrast to the pure whiteness surrounding it, the midnight inkiness unable to camouflage itself from unsuspecting eyes. It was large, towering over you impressively even with its massive paws sinking into the snow below it, leaving depressions in their wake. Its hulking physique was intimidating, muscles visibly rippling underneath its thick winter coat as it stalked towards your tiny fallen figure. 

You watched in awe and slight nervousness as it stopped right in front of you. It’s head alone was almost the size of your entire frame, and it’s eyes never once left your flushed, tear stained face. 

“Hi,” you breathed, your voice small. Gently taking your hand, you held up your palm face up towards the wolf’s face, its nose cold and wet as it touched your hand before it slowly transitioned into warm, sleek fur as the wolf pushed its forehead into your palm. You ran your fingers gently across the wolf’s head, your tiny fingers dwarfed significantly, relishing in the warmth it brought. 

The first touch of the animal’s tongue on your injury stung, the roughness irritating the already inflamed skin. You whimpered, though watched silently as the wolf cleaned your wound like it would to one of its young. Looking back up at you once it was done, deeming your injury clean enough, its eyes flashed a brilliant shade of vermillion before returning to their dulled amber color as quickly as it came. 

Too engrossed in feeling the warmth of the wolf’s body temperature beneath your frozen fingertips, you were slightly startled when you felt it’s snout gently nudging your thigh, signaling for you to stand up. You followed without complaint, albeit a slight limp on your left leg, and brushed the snow that clung wetly to your clothes with your fingers before embedding your fingers back into the wolf’s warm, soft fur on its back. It led you back the direction you came, the trip silent except for the crunch of the snow beneath your feet as the cabin quickly came into view. 

“There you are,” your grandfather breathed, a smile plastering his wrinkled face as soon as you came into view. His eyes quickly drifted to the creature beside you, taking in it’s hulking figure and bright red eyes. He wasn’t worried or scared like you expected him to be, and instead lowered into a small bow to show his respects. The wolf followed suit, lowering its head before backing away from you to return to the forest; it’s home. “I was wondering where you ran off to, silly girl.” 

“Grandpa!” you giggled, running up the patio steps before crashing into his chest in a hug. The sun was quickly setting, casting hues of golden and soft rose onto the snow as you turned back to watch the wolf disappear between the trees once again. It was almost as if it was never there to begin with. “Did you see that? Did you?” 

“I did, my love,” He spoke to you, his voice gentle as he brushed stray hairs away from your face. Pointing to your torn pants, a frown found its way on his face at the sight of the raw, exposed skin. “What happened here?” 

“I was running through the snow,” you began, sighing at the warmth of the inside of the cabin as your grandfather led you to the kitchen. You sat down on one of the dining room chairs, watching as he grabbed a first aid kit from one of the cupboards. “And I tripped over a rock. It hurt pretty bad.”

Your grandpa hummed, listening to your story intently as he slowly disinfected the wound with antibacterial soap before taking out a bandage to cover it with.  “And then?” 

“And then this big wolf showed up out of nowhere!” you exclaimed, waving your hands high above your head to try to demonstrate. “He was huge, but he didn’t hurt me. He helped me. He licked my knee and led me back here.” 

“Did he?” Placing a bandage onto your knee, he chuckled as he gently took your small, cold hands in his own and led you from the kitchen to your bedroom. You quickly changed from your wet, outside clothes and into your warm sleep clothes, hopping into bed with a smile that didn’t seem like it was fading still on your face. 

“I have something to tell you, Y/N. Something important.” your grandfather spoke, his voice low as he pulled the covers up to your chest. By now the sun has fully set, the only light illuminating your room coming from the pale moonlight glow and the dulled bedside lamp. “There are many wolves out there, Y/N. Special wolves. They will never hurt you if you welcome them with open arms and an open mind.” 

With that, he placed a kiss on your forehead and turned off your bedside lamp, the door to your bedroom closing softly in his wake. Almost complete darkness welcomed you, the light of the full moon bathing you in it’s ethereal shine, and as you fell asleep that night you swore you could hear the distant howls singing you a lullaby. 

---------

  The coldness of the outside air was pleasant against your skin, the thick material of your hoodie sheathing most of the elements from your exposed flesh. You worked diligently on moving each box from the back of your car to the inside of the cabin, music playing quietly through your headphones to fill the quietness of the empty forest. 

You were now twenty-one, and it's been 3 months since your grandfather has passed. 

His death had taken a huge toll on you. You had stopped visiting him during the summer after your thirteenth birthday, school and relationships outweighing the desire to spend the three months you had free in the woods alone and not with your friends. Up until now you didn’t feel any regret in doing so, your relationship with him eventually fading into the only communication being handwritten cards sent every holiday or your birthday. Though ever since you found out about the news of his death the only thing you could feel was heartbreak and guilt. 

Stepping back outside you grabbed the last box out of your trunk, shutting it with a sigh before moving to finally go back inside. You were tired, lately that’s all you’ve been, and moving from the heart of Seoul to the forests of a forgotten city was harder than you’d originally envisioned it to be. The drive was long, the bright early morning sky fading into the depths of midnight before you could even realize, barely any stops made in between. The only thing you wanted to do now was rest. 

--------

Looking around the cabin it was exactly how you remembered it being, albeit desolate as the livelihood that used to thrive was now replaced with cold emptiness in the absence of its light. The dark tinted wood flooring was cold beneath your sock clad feet as you moved to light the fireplace, illuminating the living room in a light golden hue and filling it with warmth. 

There were many pictures lining the stone built around the fireplace, and you could recognize your face in some of them as you moved to pick one up. You ran your finger gently over the glass, brushing some of the built up dust away to reveal the image of you and your grandpa’s smiling face staring back at you. 

It was snowing in the picture, your faces flushed red and snow stuck in your hair. The memory of when the photo was taken was fuzzy, blurry at some of the edges but it still made your eyes well up; a small smile on your face as your tears hit the glass protecting it. 

Gently placing the picture frame back on the mantle, your eyes drifted to the other photos that lined the stone. One that managed to catch your eye was one of your grandfather, smiling like always and surrounded by three very large wolves. 

One was an earthy brown color, lanky and tall but still muscular and intimidating while the other a healthy mix of grey and white, specks of dirty brown littering it’s coat. The last one was slightly hidden, it’s obnoxiously large head peeking behind your grandfather’s shoulder shyly as it’s inky black coat contrasted nicely with the warm autumn background. It felt strangely familiar, though you couldn’t pinpoint why. 

Your grandfather always talked about the wolves that roamed the forest in which he lived and how they were special, different. You never truly understood what he meant by that, though you assumed he had simply built a relationship with the creatures as he focused his studies on them and their behaviours. 

You tried not to dwell on it too much. 

Shaking your head you placed the photo back where it was on the fireplace, taking one last look at your new home before putting the fire out and getting ready for bed. 

------- 

In the morning you were rudely woken up by the sound of somebody knocking on your door. It was strange, you thought, nobody came by these parts by chance and the closest neighbour you had was miles away. You doubted if they even really cared if somebody new moved in overnight, though you assumed news spread fast in small areas like these. Furrowing your eyebrows, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes before quickly answering the door. 

What greeted you were two men, one noticeably taller than the other with dirty silver blonde hair and kind eyes that seemed welcoming. The other had hair the shade of night, with cat-like eyes that made you more uncomfortable the longer you looked at them. Both were wearing simple clothes, though arguably not appropriate for the freezing weather. You shifted nervously. 

“Can I help you?” you spoke, voice slightly raspy from sleep. The coldness of the early morning air nipped at your exposed arms, your simple t-shirt not doing much to shelter you from the cold as it entered into your home. Your eyes drifted to the taller one of the two as he spoke. 

“Hi, my name is Namjoon and this is my brother, Yoongi.” he spoke, eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiles at you. He has a gentle smile, you think. “We live a couple miles up the street and heard of somebody moving in. You’re new around here, yes?” 

He spoke eloquently, obviously educated and smart judging by the way he chose to present himself, but there was a slight disconnect with his words--  a slur to his accent you didn’t recognize. One you couldn’t point out. 

You nodded in response to his question, a polite smile on your face. “I just finished moving in yesterday.” 

Something felt off, they felt off. The shorter one of the two, Yoongi you remember his name being, you caught his eyes wandering-- drifting past your shoulder in a futile attempt to see inside your home. Shifting uncomfortably, you leaned your shoulder against the wooden door frame in an attempt to block his view. You didn’t know where this conversation was heading, and you really didn’t want to find out, either. 

The taller one, Namjoon, opened his mouth to speak before he was quickly interrupted. 

“The old man that used to live here,” Yoongi began, eyes narrowing at you underneath his fringe. His voice was relatively monotone, yet somehow aggressive and accusatory. “What happened to him.” 

Namjoon whipped his head around to look at the shorter man, eyebrows furrowed and expression tight. The frustration was evident in his voice as he quickly turned back to you, “I apologize for him-” 

“It’s okay,” you waved off quickly, though slightly hurt by the bluntness of his tone. Clearing your throat you fought hard to fight back tears, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of strangers by completing breaking down. You let out a small sigh before continuing, “My grandfather, he passed away a couple months ago. He left all of his belongings to me in his will, so I-I wanted to move in to make sure nothing happened to his home and research.” 

At that, both of them seemed to deflate in relief, their shoulders less tense-- though at the mention of the word ‘grandfather’ they seemed to be more intrigued. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Namjoon spoke, his voice low. He stuck his hand out in a handshake, his palm large against your own smaller one as you gripped it gently. His hand was warm, incredibly so, despite the freezing temperature he was standing in. “I can’t imagine the pain you’re going through right now and I apologize for intruding.” 

“Thank you,” you replied, the warmth of his palm comforting. “Would you like to come in for some coffee? Tea?” 

“We would love to,” Looking regretful, Namjoon turned to look at Yoongi briefly, the latter’s eyes never once leaving your face. “But we should really get going. Next time, maybe?” 

Smiling, you nodded your head in agreement. “Next time, then.”

You watched silently as they left, your hands stilling on the door as you went to close it. They had stated earlier that their home was miles away from yours, yet you didn’t see them getting into a car or any mode of transportation to make their way back-- instead the sound of their shoes crunching on the gravel of your driveway as they walked seemed to echo in the quiet early morning air. 

Furrowing your eyebrows you shook your head, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The whole interaction left a weird taste in your mouth, though you attempted not to linger over it too much, unsure if you’d realistically ever see them again. Closing the door with a dull thud your bare feet padded against the cold wood flooring as you made your way to the living room, relighting the fireplace with a match to help fill the room with much needed warmth. 

------ 

You spent most of the day unpacking your things. The interaction early this morning with Namjoon and Yoongi was pushed to the back of your mind now as you attempted to settle in. Surprisingly enough it wasn’t as difficult as you initially thought, though you guess you can place it on this place being your second home for thirteen years of your life. 

As the cabin was located semi remotely and the nearest town wasn’t anywhere close to you, your grandfather had built a tiny farm in the “backyard” to produce his own food. He refused to hunt live animals to eat, his reasoning being he didn’t have the heart to do so; a lifestyle you adopted from him during your younger years. Putting on a thick, warm hoodie to help combat the chilly winds you ventured outside to check on it. 

What you expected to see were rotting and decaying plants, seeing as there had been nobody around to take care of them for months.

 But they weren't. 

The fruits and vegetables looked as fresh and healthy as they could be, vibrant against the dull earthy ground they grew on. There had to be a logical explanation for this, produce couldn’t have survived as long as they have without being eaten by wildlife or destroyed by the elements and lack of care. Getting down on your knees, you moved to check the roots of the plants for any disturbances or ruptures when you heard it.

Behind you there was the snapping of a twig, the sound irritatingly loud in the otherwise quiet forest. You stilled, breath hitching in your throat as you tried to process what was happening. Perhaps you were being paranoid, you thought. You lived in a forest, there were wild animals all around you and one twig snapping shouldn’t warrant such a reaction. 

That was until the sound was followed by a low growl. It was quiet enough to not be heard if you weren’t paying enough attention, but loud enough to make the hairs rise on the back of your neck. Turning your head slowly, the first thing you tried to do was figure out who, or what, was there before turning your body completely. 

Standing about 10 feet away from you was a wolf. It’s coat was as black as a clear night sky, sleek and silky yet slightly matted with the only color being the dulled amber of its eyes. Its snout was pulled back in a snarl, the stained whites of its elongated canines taunting you while its eyes stared directly at you in aggression. 

You remembered distinctly about the values your grandfather instilled in you when you were young, to be gentle to the wolves that live on this land and to approach them with respect. So you raised the palm of your hand silently-- the situation eliciting a strange sense of deja vu--the act in itself a sign of non aggression. 

It didn’t work. 

The wolf’s growls got progressively louder as it stalked towards you, it’s massive paws sinking heavily into the earth below. You didn’t have time to react before it lunged for you, the plants behind you smothering behind as you fell back, the smell of blood penetrating the air as the thorns of the blackberry bush behind you pierced your skin. The palm of your hand stained a deep wine red. 

It’s growls seemed to reverberate in your skull as saliva dripped from it’s bared canines and onto your cheek, it’s hot breath making you choke up in fear. The feeling of it’s heavy paws on your chest made you feel like you were suffocating, pushing you further into the wet soil. 

You were scared. Unbelievably scared. The adrenaline and panic was pulsing through your veins like blood, hot and thick and circulating your entire body without pause.

It’s only been a day and you’re already staring at the face of death. 

“Please,” you begged, your eyes wet with tears as they fell down into your hair and mixed with the soil below. To whom or what you were pleading to you did not know, your eyes slowly drifting from it’s bared teeth to your own pitiful reflection staring back at you in its eyes. The creature seemed to falter at the eye contact, eyes widening a fraction before you see it’s nose wiggling from your peripheral vision. 

Slowly you could see the wolf’s snarl fade, it’s large paws stepping off your chest and back into the wet earth as it continued to back away from you. You were scared and confused, your body terrifying still until you heard the sound of branches snapping and leaves crunching as the wolf made its way back into the forest where it came from, sparing one last look at your fear-stricken form before disappearing from your view completely. 

You lied there silently for what felt like an eternity, your hands shaking as they gripped the dirt, the pain from your cut dulled from shock. Getting up quickly you rushed inside, taking off all your clothes and turning the shower dials to the hottest setting. It burned, your hands still slightly trembling as you scrubbed yourself roughly and watched as the water ran down the drain pink before eventually turning clear. The shower didn’t do much to calm your nerves. 

--- 

“This was a bad idea,” you mumbled to yourself, brushing your wet hair away from your face with your hand. There was a heavy bandage wrapped around it, the wound not as painful as it was a couple of hours ago but still pulsing painfully if you moved it the wrong way. You stared blankly at your bedroom wall, your thoughts blank as you noted with dull interest how the light birch color contrasted nicely with the darkly tinted wood flooring.

 Maybe you should have stayed at your apartment in Seoul. It was safe there, arguably so, and you could’ve collected all your grandfather’s belongings and had them stored somewhere rather than secluding yourself away from the rest of civilization like a recluse. 

But the guilt of abandoning the last familial connection you had with your mother out of teenage stupidity really weighed down on you, keeping you up at night and consistently plaguing your thoughts. You had originally thought that moving here into his cabin and protecting, perhaps continuing, his wildlife research would bring you some sense of closure or relief. Maybe you were wrong. 

 Letting out a deep sigh you moved to open a drawer on your bedside table, pulling out an old faux leather bound book. You had found it in your grandfather’s study while you were cleaning out some storage, tucked neatly in a hand built bookcase between a plethora of others that looked vaguely similar. The only difference was the golden wolf stamped onto the spine and cover, reflecting beautifully as the light from your lamp bounced off of it. 

When you ran your finger over the design it felt smooth beneath your fingertips, stunningly beautiful yet the only thing you could think of when you saw it was the beast that almost killed you earlier today. 

Opening the book gently, what greeted you was the illustration of a howling wolf-- the black ink contrasting the off-white page with the word ‘Lycanthropy’ written below it. You ran your finger over the ink, feeling the coarseness of the wrinkled paper as you diligently flipped the stained pages, each one filled with notes, sketches and anatomy studies of what your grandfather deemed ‘lycanthropes’. 

Of course you had entertained the idea of werewolves when younger, though once you were out of your preteen years you had scrapped the idea entirely as you knew it was biologically impossible. But when your grandfather was alive all he talked to you about was the wolves and how special they were, how they were different. You were young at the time so of course you didn’t question it, though now you didn’t know what to think. Your whole reality and what you knew to be real, not real or just simple folklore used to entertain and scare children was being flipped on you and your mind was a muddled mess.

 If these creatures actually existed, these werewolves--or lycanthropes as your grandfather so politely called them-- what stopped other things like vampires and witches from being real too? 

You shut the book in haste, anger quickly replacing confusion as you clenched your fists. What you were angry about you didn’t know, but you knew you weren’t going to let this go easily. You needed answers, and you were going to get them. 

-------- 

It’s been several days since your encounter with the wolf and the discovery that werewolves were, in fact, real. Or, so you assumed. You haven’t been outside since the attack, holding yourself up in the study to read every book that lined the shelves and sort through every scrap paper abandoned on his desk in an attempt to find answers. 

The early morning sun was beaming through the window, warm against your face as you slept peacefully. You’d fallen asleep in the study again, your face squished up against the cold wood of the desk and the ink stained papers after a long night of reading and studying. It was nothing like you’d ever seen before, every detail about every living and non living thing that dwelled in this forest was written and logged into separate books and carefully stored so they wouldn’t get ruined or lost with age. 

You blinked your eyes sleepily, stretching your arms above your head as you winced at the pain in your neck from sleeping in an uncomfortable position for days. There was an awful taste in your mouth and a pounding headache making your eyes squeeze shut in pain, the bright sunlight streaming through your window not doing much to help with the dull throbbing in your head. You suppose the lack of food, water and sleep finally caught up with you. 

Rubbing your temples with your fingertips you vaguely remembered reading about a natural migraine remedy that grew in the forest somewhere in one of your grandfather’s books. There was no asprin here, so you had to make due with what you had. 

Quickly sorting through the mess of papers on the desk you found what you were looking for, an old looking book with various plants huddled together stamped in golden ink on the front cover and spine. You flipped through the pages, finally locating a detailed illustration of the peppermint herb you needed and a description of its uses located directly below it.

You got ready quickly, changing clothes and taking care of your hygiene before grabbing the book you needed off the kitchen table and making your way to the back door. Before you could place your hand on the handle you froze, a sharp pain irritating your palm as you clenched your fist at the memory of the dangers that lurk within those woods. You weren’t as scared as you used to be, more educated and less naive than you were before but the weariness was still there. 

The metal handle was cold against the palm of your hand, the outside air welcoming against your face as you stepped outside. The weather was more forgiving than it used to be, the sun shining bright overhead and the temperature pleasantly warm. Your shoes touched the forest floor for the first time in what felt like forever, the book you needed tucked protectively underneath your arm as you made your way through the forest. 

It was hard to identify the difference between the herbs at first look as they all looked the same to the inexperienced eye, though you diligently tried your best. 

Bending down, your knees touched the wet earth as you sorted through the bushes, comparing the leaves to the ones that were sketched onto the pages. It wasn’t long until you heard the slight rustle of the bushes behind you, your fists tightening around the pages of your book. 

“You can come out you know,” you began, plucking the peppermint leaves off their stem before getting up and turning to where the sound originated from. “I know you’re out there.” 

You heard it before you saw it. It’s low growl pierced the tense air as it finally exposed itself to you, the same massive paws that pinned you to the ground and made you choke on your own fear left dents in the moist forest floor as it stepped from behind the trunk of a young redwood tree. It’s teeth were bared in a sharp snarl, its once dull amber eyes now a brilliant shade of vermillion as it stared at you in distrust. 

“I know what you are,” you spoke, voice wobbling as tears clouded your vision. “You’re a lycan. A werewolf.” 

The lycan’s growls grew louder at your confession, the hairs on it’s back rising and it’s posture getting defensive. You recognized the wolf from the one in the picture resting above your fireplace, it’s then shy gaze replaced with a look of distrust.

 It seemed just as angry and confused as you were, yet you didn’t know if that comforted you or not. 

“My grandfather, Il Sung, you knew him didn’t you. He studied your kind for years and recorded everything in his books and you let him.” The lycan seemed to falter at that, it’s posture slackening slightly-- caught off guard. You decided to test your luck, slowly stepping closer and watched as the lycans growls continued to grow, though they didn’t seem as threatening as before. “You let him because you trusted him, and he trusted you. I moved here to protect his home, his research, and by extension that means you!” 

You shook your head, the anger bubbling inside you quickly rising to the surface as hot tears stained your cheeks.  “I’m not scared of you, you beast. Why would I be?” 

Tension quickly rose, the once pleasant air now suffocating with each word that passed your lips. “You’re a coward! Nothing but a sheep in wolf’s clothing.”

Your voice echoed in the otherwise quiet forest, every emotion that you’ve managed to keep at bay and hidden inside of yourself spilling out without your consent. The anger, the guilt, the sadness-- all of it. “I have done nothing to you. Nothing! Yet you come into my home and threaten me? Me?!” 

The lycan’s growls stopped completely, it’s posture relaxing and it’s eyes returning back to their normal bronze shade as the only sound reverberating off the trees was your emotional mess. There was a quiet pause before you continued. 

“I’m not here to hurt you, ” you began, never once breaking eye contact with the creature in front of you. “I loved my grandfather more than you could know, and I’m just as hurt and confused about everything that’s happened as you are. So please, just give me a damn break.” 

The silence following was deafening, you both didn’t dare to move as you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity-- both of you standing your ground. Your face was flushed with tears as you watched in confusion as the wolf trekked closer to you, it’s movements cautious and slow. The closer the lycan got the more you noticed how large it was, reaching up to the center of your belly in height with muscles rippling through its inky black coat at each step it took. It was more intimidating than you’d admit to yourself. 

The first touch of it’s wet nose against your palm made you flinch.

 Yesterday you had finally removed the bandage from around your cut, opting to let it breathe and putting a natural ointment on it to help the healing process. It was still relatively fresh, only a few days passing from the time you had received it to now, so it stung slightly at the first pass of the lycan’s rough tongue. It’s ears were slightly pinned back as it licked your wound, looking more like an oversized dog than the beast that tried to kill you a week prior. 

Your left hand, the one that was uninjured, shook slightly as you raised it, your fingers carefully embedding themselves in the silky fur of the lycan. It stilled at the feeling, a low growl vibrating through its body before it continued its ministrations. When it was finished it stepped back slightly, its eyes flashing the same bright red it had before when it first showed itself to you.  

Stepping back, your hands felt cold in the absence of the lycan’s warmth, fingers clenching in a fist as you furrowed your eyebrows. The headache from earlier seemed to come back worse than it originally was earlier, the bearing sunlight suddenly too harsh on your eyes. 

This whole situation was oddly familiar, and it confused you. A lot.

You moved to make your way back to the cabin without another word or sparing glance, weaving through the trees and leaving the lycan abandoned far behind you. 

------- 

   Early the next morning you found yourself in the garden. The weather was still pleasantly warm, a slight breeze leaving goosebumps along your bare arms as you worked on plucking the ripe fruits and veggies from their stems and throwing away the rotten ones. Your headache from yesterday had eventually subsided after following the instructions written down for you, a fairly tiny jar of peppermint oil managing to save you from a night-long nightmare. 

It wasn’t long after that you heard it’s arrival. Although the crunch of fallen leaves no longer scared you with it’s rather cliche implications, you were still surprised to see the familiar figure of the wolf with an inky black coat standing in the treeline. 

“You’re back,” you breathed, shock flooding your features as you watched it saunter towards you. It stopped relatively close, only about six feet away from the garden where you were kneeling. At first you were unsure if it even heard you, though the huff that passed it’s lips as it sat down quietly to bask underneath the afternoon sun proved otherwise. You noticed its auburn eyes following your every move; watching, observing, thinking. 

 Knowing there was somebody residing underneath that wolf’s skin made you feel vulnerable and exposed underneath it’s heavy gaze, the lycan never once moving from its position underneath the sun. Originally you thought that somewhere in the study there would be records of the wolves that lived in the forest; their names, photos, drawings-- anything. 

You found nothing. 

It frustrated you more than you’d like to admit. No matter how much you read or studied, you still felt completely naive to the world suddenly shoved in front of you. 

“When I was younger, every summer I would come here to visit my grandpa,” you suddenly spoke, eyes intently trained on the tomatoes you were currently picking. The lycan didn’t seem to make any moves at the sound of your voice. “And all he would talk about was the wolves. It was always about the wolves.”

Getting up, you brushed the soil off your pants before turning to face the wolf completely, it’s gaze never leaving yours as you spoke. Sighing quietly, you rested the basket of freshly picked produce against your hip to close your eyes and collect your thoughts.

 It felt nice to talk to somebody after being alone for so long, even if they couldn’t talk back. 

“My mother died shortly after my birth,” you explained, moving to set down the basket on the edge of the porch. You chuckled lightly, wringing your hands together as your gaze moved to look at the clear blue sky above, tears brimming your eyes. “And my father, he hoped that by sending me here I-I would have a chance to have a connection with my mother’s side before it was gone completely.” 

Your voice was quiet as you continued. “And I gave that up for my own teenage selfishness” 

It was quiet for a long time after that. None of you moved, the birds chirping high in the treetops as they mingled together and the distant sound of rabbits running through the brush filling the void. You swung your legs thoughtlessly as you sat on the edge of the porch, the rough material of your jeans shielding you from any unnecessary splitters as your back touched the cold, rough wood when you lied down. 

You spoke up after a while of silence, voice low and impersonal as you focused on the gentle swaying of the trees. “If I could go back and spend more time with him I would, y’know?” 

The wood was rough on your elbows as you got up to rest on them, your gaze once again returning to the lycan. It still felt so surreal. “But I can’t. So I just have to make due with what I have left now.” 

You got up without another word, grabbing the basket of fruits and vegetables and moving to make your way back inside. Turning around, you watched as the wolf followed your every move with its eyes intently, a silent goodbye resting on your tongue as the door shut behind you. 

----- 

It’s been a month, and you were adjusting quickly. 

Your routine has stayed fairly the same the entire duration; during the day you would venture out into the forest to collect herbs and spices or sit on the porch underneath the warm sun, while your nights were spent locked in the study with a dull lamp glow illuminating the stained white pages. It was comfortable, you were comfortable.

Surprisingly enough, the lycan would continue to come by everyday. Whether you were taking care of the garden or sketching quietly on the porch-- it would come. At first its presence would slightly bother you, seeing as it would sit in the exact same spot everyday and just stare at you while you worked, but gradually with each passing week you managed to get more relaxed with each other. 

“What do you think?” you said, turning the sketchbook over to show the wolf the portrait sketched on it. The lycan was laying on the porch next to you, head resting between its paws and it’s coat shining underneath the glaring mid-day sun. It wasn’t too hot per say, but you couldn’t imagine the summer heat felt too good on its thick dark coat. 

Lifting its head up the wolf looked at your drawing, a huff passing it’s lips as its tail wagged back and forth slowly against the wood. It’s large paw rested on your thigh as it stretched, a low whine catching your attention as it’s large head moved to rest on your lap. You smiled, setting down your sketchbook and pencil next to you before entangling your fingers gently in the fur of its back. 

It was still kinda shocking how fast your relationship blossomed. One day the lycan refused to be more than a couple feet away from you and growled whenever so much as raised a hand to touch it, the next it whined if you didn’t want it’s head in your lap. If you were being completely honest with yourself you didn’t know how to feel about this. 

There was still somebody in that wolf, thinking, watching, feeling--and you didn’t know their name or who they were. Hell, you didn’t even know if it was a man or a woman. 

Sighing, you closed your eyes for a short moment. You felt wrong for looking, truly you did, but curiosity managed to get the best of you in the moment. 

It was a man. 

You didn’t know if that made you feel better or not. 

-------

The next day wasn’t like anything you expected. 

Your morning had started off slow, an awful crick in your neck from falling asleep with your head in a book for the third time in a row that week. It was approximately noon when you got out of the shower, feeling more refreshed than you were an hour prior and a cup of freshly made peppermint tea warming your hands. The only plans you had for today were to get more ginger root and yarrow to help with some of the dull pain from your cut, the wound healing up nicely so far--though you suspected there will be a scar left behind. 

When you had exited your cabin you had expected to see the lycan sitting waiting for you like he always does, but the spot he had claimed as his was cold and empty. You tried not to overthink it too much, albeit you were a little disappointed at the lack of company as you weaved through the trees. 

It was about an hour since you had first left, sweat started to bead at your forehead as you looked for the herbs you needed quickly. The leaves from the trees above helped shelter some of the sweltering heat and provide some shade, though your clothes still continued to stick to your body unpleasantly. 

There was an uncomfortable feeling steadily creeping up your neck, your hands stilling on the forest ground as you strained your ears to listen for anything that may be off. Behind you there was suddenly a low growl, the sound of stray twigs snapping under immense weight. 

You had thought that it was just your lycan friend--you’ve yet to actually learn his name yet, you were still working on it--fooling around and trying to scare you like he used to do. Smiling, you stood up and turned around. 

That was your first mistake. 

Gasping, you stumbled back out of fear. Standing there was a wolf, a fairly large one at that, with muddy red fur and a deranged look in its eyes as it snarled at you. It’s growls got louder as it stalked closer to you, the fur on its back raised and saliva flying from it’s canines as it barked at you in aggression. 

Your heart was beating erratically against your chest, fear coiling around your throat like a snake and tightening so hard it felt like it was hard to breathe. You stepped back, your movements slow and steady in an attempt to not show any signs of aggression--the creature not slowing any signs of backing down as it continued its advancements towards you. 

The wolf lunged at you unexpectedly, it’s jaws snapping a few inches away from your lower stomach and saliva splattering against your thighs. Fear took over as you ran, thorns and branches whipping at your exposed legs and creating blistering marks in their wake. Your lungs burned painfully, the sound of the creature quickly catching up taunting you as you attempted to outrun it. 

You were foolish to think you could outsmart a creature of speed and agility, tears of frustration and fear burning your cheeks as they fell and disappeared on the forest floor. Before you could register what happened there was sharp pain in your leg, your screams piercing the silent forest. 

There was blood. A lot of blood. Your hands shook violently as they touched the cold metal of the bear trap currently hooked in your leg, the pain immeasurable and quickly spreading throughout your entire body with no signs of rest. 

“No, no, no!” you cried, shaking your head violently and attempting to pry the trap off of you. It ended up just causing you more pain, blood dripping from the wound and soaking the dirt below you. 

The growls were back, louder than before as the creature busted through the foliage with a murderous look in its eyes. It’s barks and snarls ridiculing you as you hysterically tried to rip the metal off, hot tears running down your face and your cries getting lost in the ruckus. 

 The thought of dying out here, alone, broke your heart. 

Everything felt distant, you could feel yourself passing out. The only thing you could discern from your quickly blurring vision was two large figures on the ground, fighting and snarling through a clash of bared teeth. You couldn’t hear anything through the ringing in your ears, the sickening crunch of bone being the last thing to echo in your head as your chest heaved slowly and your fingers turned cold. You watched drearily as the figure pinned underneath the other fall limp against the ground. 

The last thing that entered your peripheral before you blacked out was glowing red eyes surrounded by inky darkness.

---------- 

  It was quiet, the only sounds in the room being your gentle breathing and the rough scratching of a pen against paper. Your fists clenched around the softness of the blankets swathed around you, the sun harsh against your eyes as you blearily opened them and grimaced at the awful, stale taste in your mouth. A headache was consistently pounding against your head, mingling with the dulled pain coming from your leg that made you whimper quietly. 

“You’re awake,” somebody said beside you, their voice loud in the otherwise quiet room. There was suddenly a warm hand on your forehead, feeling for a temperature briefly before it left just as quick as it came. “I’m glad. You’ve been out for awhile now.” 

Panic struck your entire being at the foreign voice, your eyes squinting as you attempted to look at the source through your blurry vision. It was a man, he had a somewhat baby face which was accompanied by broad shoulders hidden underneath a plain black t-shirt; his dark hair falling over the worried look on his face when he leaned over the bed to look at you. 

“Who-who are you,” you asked, your voice wavering as you attempted to back away from the stranger. There was a sharp pain in your leg as you quickly sat up, moving to push yourself against the corner of the bed in an attempt to get as far away from him as possible. “Where am I?”  

“Calm down, it’s okay,” He spoke, his voice gentle as he raised his hands to not show any harm. His eyebrows were furrowed underneath his hair, a deep frown on his lips as he moved his gaze down to your leg that was hidden beneath the sheets. “My name is Seokjin, I’ve been helping you recover from your injuries the last few days. Do you remember what happened?” 

Shaking your head, you wrung your hands in the blankets uncomfortably as you tried to process the situation. Your memory was extremely foggy, bits and pieces at the forefront of your mind but nothing too significant. A ll you could remember was the feeling of the wind burning your lungs, how the tears felt as they burned your face and the absolute fear that consumed your entire body.

You stared at the door a couple feet away from you, thinking of a way to get as far away from this person as possible. Realistically you knew that even if you tried to run you wouldn’t get that far, your injury preventing you from doing so. That couldn’t stop you from trying, though. 

“Please don’t do anything you’re going to regret,” Seokjin sighed, following your line of sight. When he looked back at you his eyes were a vivid shade of gold, almost like the wild dandelions that were growing near the edge of your cabin, your own widening in shock. 

You remembered reading somewhere about the varying eye colors of lycans and what they signified, the different ranks present in a pack. Contrary to popular belief a pack’s dynamic wasn’t based on the submissiveness of those considered to be weaker or inferior, rather it was a system built on the caring nature of a single lycan’s personality-- if they were born leaders or natural caretakers at heart.

 Omegas were blessed with yellow eyes that resembled the early morning sun and are generally the most caring, often given the weighty responsibility of caring for young pups or tending to the injured. Betas had eyes the color of the deep ocean and are regarded as the peacekeepers, the safety net. They’re calm and do most of the logical thinking. 

Then there’s Alphas. They have taunting red eyes and are the primary leaders, usually bigger and stronger than the rest of the pack to make sure everybody stays in line instead of going awry or rogue. Their main responsibility is to keep the pack safe, to lead. 

“Y-you’re a lycan?” you whispered, voice shaky. Admittedly you felt more pacified than you did a few moments prior, though you still didn’t completely trust this lycan or his intentions. 

Unsurprisingly Seokjin didn’t seem shocked by your knowing, a small smile tugging at his lips as he slowly lowered his arms to rest them by his side.

“What happened to me.” you demanded quietly. 

The lycan sighed, a distraught look on his face as a hand came up to comb through his hair. To be truthful, Seokjin didn’t know exactly what to say to that. He felt it wasn’t fair for him to speak on it further without his brother being present, afterall he wasn’t there when the incident occurred and he knew how much the other wanted to see you when you woke up. 

“I think that it’s better if Jeongguk explains that to you.” He eventually spoke, voice low and a knowing look in his eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his reply. 

“Who?” 

“You’ll recognize him when you see him.” With that Seokjin left the room, closing the door softly behind him. You could hear his footsteps quickly fading as he left, your shoulders falling with a sigh you didn’t realize you were holding. It was quiet for a while after that, the soft chirping of birds outside seeping through the open window next to you and the atmosphere almost serene in nature. 

Curiosity managed to get the better of you, your hands gripping the blankets covering your leg as you carefully untucked it, grimacing at what you saw. Your entire lower leg was tore up, a couple stitches suturing close some of the worse ones near your ankle and a series of smaller cuts and blisters sweltering above them. Everything was covered in some form on semi-translucent film, yarrow you believed it was, and was extremely tender to the touch as you gently prodded the areas with your fingers. 

“You shouldn’t be touching that.” 

Whipping your head around at the sound of the voice, your eyes quickly landing on a figure standing shyly in the doorway. He was young, that much was obvious, no older than twenty with hair the same shade as coal and big, doe eyes that stared at you in earnest. Jeongguk, you would believe Seokjin said his name was.

 You didn’t speak as he stepped further into the room, nervousness dripping from his form like honey as he opened and closed his mouth in an attempt to form words. 

“I’m sorry,” he eventually let out, eyes downcast on the polished wooden floor beneath his feet. “This shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.” 

Opting to stay silent you watched the boy from beneath a curious, questioning gaze. You were fairly certain you didn’t recognize his face from anywhere, but you could feel a sense of familiarity between the two of you.

 He kept his face down, hidden away from your scrutinizing gaze but you could still see his eyes turn from their normal dark brown to a deep cherry wine color at his obviously distraught emotional state. 

You could recognize those eyes anywhere, no matter what happened. It was the lycan that visited you every day, the one you befriended and grew to trust. You felt more at ease than you did before. 

Shifting on the bed, you sat up before speaking. “Do you know where am I, Jeongguk?” 

If he was shocked at the sound of his name passing through your lips he didn’t show it, opting to shift slightly closer to the bed where you were situated. You could see the apprehensiveness apparent on his face, worried about how you would react to the information he was eventually going to give you. 

“You’re in my home, we brought you here after the attack.” 

You nodded, furrowing your eyebrows as you processed his words.

“About that,” you whispered, nervous and unsure of how to word your question properly. “What exactly happened that day, Jeongguk?” 

Jeongguk sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed without thinking of how you would react and burying his face in his hands. To be honest, he felt awful about what happened. It was his fault, their fault. 

“Recently there were issues with a rogue intruding on our territory,” He began, his eyes solely focused on the birch flooring. “We were out patrolling the borders when I managed to catch his scent.” 

From there Jeongguk explained everything that occurred, sparing you some of the more gory details of the altercation he had with the lone wolf at his rather unexpected arrival, stopping periodically to gauge your reaction. It felt odd having somebody explain to you what happened to your own body, the memories still buried beneath the heaviness of shock and denial. Maybe that was for the best, you thought.

“I’m sorry.” 

Furrowing your eyebrows you moved to look at the boy, your mind still reeling as you placed the pieces together. “This isn’t your fault.” 

“But it is!” He abruptly stood up, burying his hands in his hair and his eyes shifting. “I-I should have been there, with you. We should have driven the rogue out before anything like this could happen.” 

Both of you stayed silent after that.

Technically he was right, if he had gotten the rogue lycan off his territory none of this would have happened, you wouldn’t be lying here injured and confused. But you also knew deep down he did everything he could to prevent it. 

-------- 

A few days have passed since you woke up, your leg felt significantly better than it had in the beginning and the swelling was greatly reduced after each night. Jeongguk visited you every morning and stayed a couple hours to help keep you entertained, bringing a blank notebook and some pencils with him as you two drew to pass the time. Sometimes you talked, sometimes you didn’t. But you were comfortable.

Seokjin would come in to check on you and your injury at least two times a day, washing it with cold water to get rid of any dirt that may cause an infection and replacing the yarrow treatment before bandaging it up again. 

“Where did you learn so much about medicine?” you asked one day, watching as Seokjin finished up wrapping your leg with piqued interest. 

He smiled, standing up from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed next to you and gathering up his supplies. The clothes he was wearing today were rather simple, a loose white shirt tucked into black ripped jeans. He looked good, you thought. 

“Il sung, your grandfather, taught me actually,” there was a fond look on his face as he spoke, his fingers stilling on the bowl of yarrow he used to soak your leg a couple moments prior.

“Were you close?” 

Seokjin nodded, looking at you with golden eyes from beneath his lashes. You reminded him so much of Il sung that it hurt, the look in your eyes as you spoke to him and your rather gentle disposition almost an exact copy. 

“Very.” 

--------

It’s been a week now, and you were getting considerably restless. In the entire duration you’ve been staying here you haven’t left the room once; there was a bathroom across from your bed and food was brought to you regularly by either Seokjin or Jeongguk, so you never had a reason to leave. But now that was going to change. 

Swinging your legs gently over the bed, you pushed the heavy blankets off of you and carefully made your way to the door. The wood was relatively cold against your bare feet, the obnoxiously oversized t-shirt Jeongguk had given you to wear after you took a shower brushed against your black sweats, a slight limp in your leg present. 

It was silent when you first stepped out. There were a couple other doors next to yours, all of which were closed and locked with a staircase leading down to the lower floor. Your hand held against the railing as you carefully limped down the steps, observing how everything was engrossed in a sheet of darkness with the absence of the lights being turned on. 

There was nobody in the main room from what you could tell, nor the open kitchen that was located in front of a rather large sliding glass window overlooking the backyard. The cabin was relatively modern, the walls a light birch color and the flooring darkly tinted; it felt similar to your own home, a fact that made you feel more comfortable. 

What captured your attention the most was that it was too quiet, too desolate. You knew that at least two lycans lived here, Seokjin and Jeongguk, so there had to be more hiding in the shadows somewhere. Wolves run in a pack rather than alone, so the only question was where they were. 

Moving from the kitchen to the main area, you smiled at the feeling of your feet coming in contact with the fluffy rug laid out on the floor, the material soft and warm against your bruised soles. There were a couple pictures hanging on the walls to add some decoration, but not too many as you looked around. Turning to observe more of the living area, you raised your eyebrows at what you saw. 

There was a wolf laying on the couch, a heavy blanket covering most of its body as its vivid blue eyes stared lazily at you. It had earthy brown fur, not as dark as Jeongguk’s but not that light either, cream white and tawny decorating around its snout, chest and one of its ears. You recognized it from the picture sitting above your fireplace mantle back at home. 

“Hi,” you smiled, a little put off at the prolonged eye contact it insisted on making. No matter how many lycans you surround yourself with, you’ll never get over how intimidating their eyes are. 

The wolf seemed to perk up at the sound of your voice, getting up and stretching lazily before excitedly bounding over to you. It was tall, reaching up to the middle of your stomach in height with a slightly lanky but muscular build.

 It’s snout was immediately buried in your stomach when it got close enough, sniffing and wagging its tail almost like an oversized dog. You giggled at the feeling of it’s tongue against your bare skin, it’s tongue rough against your navel as it stuck its head underneath your shirt. It was a little too friendly--you almost forgot there was actually a person in that wolf’s body instead of just an animal. 

“I see you’ve met Taehyung.” 

Turning to look at the source of the voice, disbelief took over your features at what, moreso who, you saw. Perhaps you should have seen it coming, and in all honesty you think deep down you did. You just wonder how many other surprises are out there waiting for you at this point. 

“Namjoon?” 

He flashed you a dimpled smile in reply, placing the grocery bags he was carrying in his hands onto the kitchen island. His silver blonde hair was covering his forehead, a little longer than the last time you saw him but overall nothing really changed. A couple of others came strolling in after him, their hands full with varying other items and smiles stretching their faces as they laughed at something you were unaware of. 

Jeongguk came in next, his smile immediately fading at the sight of you and Taehyung. His eyes changed to their blood red color, glaring at the wolf in front of you and the rather friendly position both of you were in. 

“Back off Tae.” He growled lowly, rolling his eyes at the smug huff that came out of the Beta’s mouth. Taehyung was testing his limits and he knew it. 

Either way the wolf complied and stepped back, the air suddenly cold against your stomach where the immense heat of his head used to be. Seokjin came in last, mumbling under his breath about something you didn’t care to strain your ears to find out, his eyes widening at the sight of you.

“What the hell are you doing out of bed?” Seokjin stammered, dropping the bags he had in his hands and quickly rushing towards your side. He rolled up the leg of your sweats to check on your injury, making sure none of the stitches were pulled in your little endeavor out of your room. 

“Seokjinn,” you whined, trying your best to balance on one leg as the lycan in question examined the other. “I was sick of being cooped up in the room all day, I needed to get out for a little bit.” 

Standing up from his crouched position, Seokjin sighed as he gave you a disapproving look. He had his hands on his hips like a scolding mother, the imagery in your head making you smile. 

“Do you understand how dangerous that could be if you pulled one of your stitches coming down the steps?”

 As bad as you felt for doing so, you completely tuned out Seokjin’s voice. You didn’t feel bad for leaving the room without his permission first, and you weren’t going to let him make you think so either, even though you knew that he was only scolding you out of the wellness in his heart. 

Your attention quickly shifted to a door that was opening on the second floor, Seokjin’s voice little more than white nose as a very sleepy looking man soon came into view. It was Yoongi, you remembered his name being, his head of black hair a mess atop his head and his clothes in disarray as he made his way down the steps. 

“Wow Yoongi, way to look presentable for guests,” One of the men you didn’t recognize taunted, laughing when the other flipped him off. He had light blonde hair and a wide smile, a little intimidating but an otherwise welcoming aura to him. 

You and Yoongi made brief eye contact as he passed into the main room, his eyes flashing blue quickly in an intimidating glare as he sat down on the couch.  

“Well since everybody is here,” Namjoon began, his voice capturing everybody’s attention in a matter of seconds. Even Jeongguk looked up from where he was stuffing his face with a sandwich you didn’t even know where he got. “I think we’re due for some introductions.” 

You soon found out that the man who patronized Yoongi was named Hoseok, his bright smile catching you slightly off guard when he directed it at you for the first time. There was another, Jimin his name was, a little short and quiet with chocolate brown hair that was parted in the middle but he has a nice, gentle smile and a good heart from what you could tell. 

-------

Later that evening you found yourself sitting on the couch watching T.V with Taehyung. Seokjin had made dinner for everybody about an hour prior, luckily he hadn’t made you return back to your room pending your full recovery so you had a chance to really get to know everybody. 

You had become surprisingly comfortable with them pretty quick, helping put the groceries and other purchases from their once a month trip to the city where they belonged while making conversation. Everyone was nice to you, even Yoongi. 

Taehyung had refused to shift back for reasons unknown to you, his head heavy in your lap as you ran your fingers through his soft fur but you didn’t complain. You could hear him whine when your fingers stopped petting him, a soft chuckle leaving your lips at the sound. In the short time you knew him, you could tell he was just attention starved and affection rather than a big scary wolf. 

The sun had set quickly thereafter, the day quickly bleeding into the night as you finally felt the effects of the day wearing you out. Namjoon, Jeongguk and Yoongi had left somewhere into the woods about an hour ago, for what reason you didn’t really know but you didn’t feel like questioning them at the time, trusting it was important. 

--------

Jeongguk groaned, the sound of his bones cracking back into place as he shifted sounded brutal even to his own ears. It was well into the night now, they had just gotten back from patrolling the borders for the third time in only a week. Ever since your attack he’s been paranoid about something like that happening again, his nights filled with sleepless regret as your attack replayed in his head like a bad dream. He tried not to think about it too much as he quickly pulled the clothes he left out on the porch over his naked body. 

“You coming?” Yoongi called out to him in a gruff voice, staring at him from his position in the doorway of the sliding glass window. The moonlight shone lightly over his shirtless pale figure. 

“Yea, in a bit.”

The black haired boy simply nodded, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. Jeongguk just needed time to think, to try to gather his thoughts before returning back inside and being forced to face his insecurities and fears. What happened that night, should have never happened. He was supposed to be there to protect you and he wasn’t, that was something he would never forgive himself for. 

A couple minutes passed before he sighed, finally moving to go back inside. His eyes immediately fell on your sleeping form, the brightly flashing colors of the T.V reflecting off your face beautifully as a smile rested upon his lips. It was the same smile that immediately was replaced by a deep scowl at the sight of the lycan currently resting on your lap. 

“You’re really pushing it, Tae,” Jeongguk growled, his fists clenching at his sides. Taehyung’s blue eyes only smugly stared at him in response, rolling over onto his back on the couch with his head still in your lap. 

“Go.” 

Taehyung growled at him quietly in response before lazily getting off the couch, the sounds of his nails padding against the wood echoing in the halls before it was replaced by the gruesome crunching of bones as they rearranged themselves back in place. You shivered at the sudden absence of the wolf’s warmth, your face scrunching up as you curled in on yourself on the couch. Jeongguk’s heart swelled at the sight. 

Moving to turn the T.V off, the room was engulfed in silence and darkness as he came back to where you were resting, gently hooking his arms around your back and knees to bring you up to his chest. He walked up the stairs to where your room was located, placing you on the bed softly before carefully tucking you in. 

He was falling, faster than he’d like to and worse than he expected.

-------- 

 The sun was annoyingly bright against your eyes, your cheeks warm and flushed as they stretched in a wide smile while you watched the lycans interact with each other in the backyard below. You could see two wolves wrestling in the dirt a couple feet away, what you recognized as Jimin’s slightly smaller form pinning Taehyung beneath his paws as his exaggerated yelps caught your ears. Namjoon and Yoongi were sitting on the porch, their fur rustling slightly in the wind as they quietly observed. You didn’t know where the other two were. 

It’s been two weeks since your attack, and two weeks since you’ve arrived at the pack house. Your injury was pretty much healed by now, minus a couple cuts and some bruises that were an ugly mix of green and purple, but Seokjin said you were pretty much ready to go back home whenever you were feeling up to it. You were extremely happy at the news, missing the feeling of fading white pages beneath your fingers and the wet soil on your knees as you took care of the garden. 

The only issue you faced now was how you were going to tell Jeongguk about it. 

Both of you have grown significantly closer, between the sparing glaces and the way your heart beats uncomfortably against your chest when one of the other pack members so much as mentions him, you would go as far as saying you fell for the lycan. 

Sometimes the two of you would spend the nights together on his bed talking about nothing and everything at the same time from dusk till dawn, other times he would lead you to a secret lake in the early morning just to watch as the sky bleeds into stunning hues of crimson and rose right in front of your very eyes. 

It was amazing, he was amazing. And that scared you. So much. 

These last few years of your life have been filled with so much pain and loneliness, you don’t know if you could handle giving up possibly the best thing you’ve ever had. Jeongguk was something that came hurtling at you out of nowhere like a bullet, ripping through your chest and leaving you scrambling at each breath. He was pain and pleasure coexisting in one, something you didn’t know if you could handle at this point in your life. 

The sound of the shower turning off managed to take you out of your thoughts, steam coming out of the bathroom as Jeongguk exited, roughly toweling his hair in an attempt to dry it and his sweats hanging low on his hips. He was in there for almost an hour in an attempt to sate his nerves, or more specifically after you yelled at him for pacing so long you were worried he would put a dent in the flooring. It gave you some much needed time to think. 

“Hey,” Jeongguk whispered, sitting down next to you on the bed and following your gaze to watch the rest of his pack below with lidded vermillion eyes. 

“Hey,” your eyes drifted down to his bare chest, your fingers reaching out on their own accord to touch the flattened scars that were littered there. They were slightly pink, more flesh toned and obviously old. The boy was quiet as he rested his hand on top yours, his skin incredibly warm and his heartbeat quickening beneath your palm. 

You took a deep breath before finally opening up to him. 

“Y’know, earlier today Seokjin said I was pretty much healed,” you spoke, linking your fingers together with the lycans quietly. You refused to look at his face, solely focusing on your entwined hands still resting above his heart. “He said that I can go home.” 

Jeongguk was quiet at that, his grip around your palm tightening slightly. At the mention of the word ‘home’ he faltered, a sharp pain in chest as he felt his heart break slightly. He knew it was selfish for him to want you to stay here with him, to live with him, to be with him--but that didn’t stop him from desiring it.

“When are you leaving?” Jeongguk whispered, keeping his eyes on your intertwined hands. The look on his face and the sound of his voice made your heart hurt. 

“Taehyung said he’d help me get ready in the morning,” your voice was quiet, your palm suddenly cold when the lycan got off the bed in haste. He stood in the center of your room, deathly quiet as he raised a hand to thread through his damp hair. “Make sure I get back home safely.”

His eyes seemed to glow in the sudden darkness of your room, the sun quickly retreating back into the horizon while the moon came to take its place in the sky. He didn’t know what to do, what to think. He knew he could still visit you like he used to, sit with his head in your lap and the feeling of your fingers combing through the tangles in his fur with the afternoon sun on his face, but he also knew deep down things wouldn’t be the same. 

 You were shocked when he came back, his palms warm against your cheeks as he looked into your eyes as he pleaded, “Stay here, with me. We can take care of you, I can take care of you. You wouldn’t be alone anymore.” 

Tears welled up in your eyes, lip quivering and your voice cracking as you looked at the desperate look on his face. “I-I can’t. You know that.” 

You couldn’t leave behind your life and everything that was entrusted to you to live with a pack of lycans, some of whom you’ve only known for a short two weeks. It was crazy, and if it was the full moon influencing his actions you didn’t know but the pleading look in his eyes broke your heart. 

 “I should go then,” Jeongguk dropped his hands from your face, backing up towards the door. He was looking everywhere but you.“The pack is waiting for me.” 

You followed him as he made his way down the steps, slower than the lycan as you attempted to catch up to him. The attempt was futile, his hands were already gripping the handle to the sliding glass door and exiting before you could even make it past the main room. “Jeongguk, wait!”  

The rest of the pack was waiting outside, already shifted and waiting impatiently as they stared at both of you. He ignored your voice, untying his sweats and pulling them down his legs as he got ready for the run. You turned around to give him some privacy, a deep flush covering your cheeks as you jumped at the sudden sound of bones shortening and elongating, cracking and rearranging as he shifted. 

It wasn’t as quick and harmless as it appeared in movies or shows, the process agonizing long as it hurt your ears to listen to. 

You only turned back around once it was silent, watching with glistening eyes as Namjoon led the rest of the pack into the darkness of the forest ahead of you. The pale moonlight of the full moon reflected off of Jeongguk’s coat, making him appear almost a dark blue color as he slowed to a stop behind everyone else. 

He turned back to look at you, ears lowered against his head as you both just looked at each other. You didn’t know if he could see the tears staining your cheeks or the solemn look in your eyes, but if he did he didn’t acknowledge them as he ran to catch up with his brothers deep in the trees. 

----------

The entire house seemed as if it was abandoned. There was no Seokjin yelling at one of the other boys for messing around in the kitchen while he was cooking, or Taehyung and Hoseok wrestling on the main room floor over whoever gets the last strip of bacon. The worst was the absence of Jeongguk’s gentle breathing as he laid next to you, sprawled out on your bed after a long night of talking as the gentle rise and fall of his chest lulled you back to sleep. It was too quiet, and you hated it. 

It was almost six in the morning when you finally saw the first break in the treeline. The sun hasn’t come out yet, the sky still bathed in darkness but from what you could make out there were only six wolves tiredly trotting back to the house as opposed to seven. Furrowing your eyebrows, you lifted your head from where it was resting on top of your folded arms, recognizing each lycan almost immediately and noticing that the only one missing was Jeongguk. 

By the time you made your way to the bottom of the steps the pack was already shifting, their exhausted groans reaching your ears as they pulled their clothes on with tired, battered breaths. The lycan you were looking for was nowhere in sight.

“Hey, Y/N,” you jumped slightly at the feeling of a hand on your skin, turning around to see Seokjin looking at you with a worried expression on his face. “What’s wrong?” 

Confusion and worry laced your features as you looked around, your hope of expecting to see the black haired boy the more you searched dwindling. “Jeongguk, where is he?” 

Seokjin only sighed in response, a look on his face you didn’t feel like acknowledging as his hand squeezed the flesh of your arm comfortingly. He opened his mouth to speak, “I think we should go back inside to talk-” 

“No!” You pulled back from his grip, staring at him in disbelief as he attempted to shut down your inquiry. The others were looking at the both of you with empathetic gazes, making you feel gross and exposed. “Why isn’t he here, Seokjin? I need to talk to him.” 

“We don’t know where he is,” Namjoon spoke lightly, his hand resting in the middle of Seokjin’s bare back as he slowly walked up from behind him. His eyes were gentle as he looked at you, their intimidating red color not doing much to help calm you. “He’ll be back, Y/N, I promise. He just needed time to think.” 

Jeongguk needed time away because of you. You didn’t know how to react to that, your eyes downcast as the older Omega gently led you back inside. There was no protest this time, the exhaustion of everything finally catching up to you as settled to retiring yourself back to bed.

--------

Later that night you found yourself in the kitchen. It was dark, almost midnight the last time you checked, a bowl of barely touched cereal in front of you as you let yourself get lost in your thoughts. 

Seokjin had come in about half an hour prior to talk with you, not necessarily about anything specific but you knew what he implied beneath all his questions and comments. It helped a little bit to discuss everything you were feeling with somebody who actually listened, and Seokjin had a natural ability to cheer you up.

You looked up at the sound of footsteps, sighing at the sight of Yoongi quickly coming into view. It wasn’t like you disliked the lycan, you two just didn’t have the strongest connection with each other yet and if you were being honest you were slightly intimidated by the black haired boy. He was quiet, always observing and barely talking. 

Nobody spoke, not that you were surprised, the sound of your metal spoon clinking against the bowl sharp against the otherwise silent room. Yoongi stood with his back against the fridge, a bottle of water held tight between his nimble, pale fingers as he watched you with an intimidating gaze. 

“We need to talk,” He suddenly spoke, moving to rest his forearms on the kitchen island. “About Jeongguk.” 

You knew this was coming. Between Yoongi and Seokjin, you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole pack knew about what happened between you and Jeongguk. That doesn’t mean you want to speak to them about it, though.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” your voice was quiet, your eyes remaining downcast on the now soggy bowl of cereal. 

“You’re right, you didn’t.” You could feel his eyes on you, watching your face for any shift in reaction, no matter how miniscule. This is the most you’ve ever heard him speak in the two weeks you’ve known him. “But Jeongguk, he’s-he’s young. He’s sensitive.” 

There was nothing to say, nothing you could say. You knew that all of this was coming from the good of heart, but it felt like you were getting blamed for something that was out of your control. 

“I know you’re still slightly new at this,” you scoffed at that, tonguing the inside of your cheek in frustration. It sounded like he was placing the blame on you, like it was your fault Jeongguk lashed out and didn’t come back. It wasn’t though, and you weren’t going to let him, or anybody else, make it seem like it was. “But things are different for us. We don’t feel things the same way you do, we don’t understand things like you do.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you mumbled, pushing away the bowl of cereal. 

“Wolves mate for life, Y/N.” Yoongi spoke, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he looked at the upset look on your face. “And Jeongguk already fell for you.” 

--------- 

Jeongguk didn’t come back for a week. 

The wait for him was agonizingly long, not just for you but for the rest of the pack as well. By the fourth day you could see the nervousness apparent on the other’s faces, and then by the fifth you could hear the arguments in the other room and the tiny whispers at dinner. You couldn’t help but feel like this was your fault, the guilt constantly eating away at your stomach and making you feel sick. 

You knew Jeongguk could easily take care of himself out there, but that didn’t stop you from worrying about him. 

You managed to hear him before you saw him. 

It was getting pretty late, the sun quickly setting into the horizon as you sat in the main room. Everybody else had already retired back into their rooms for the night, leaving you alone as you mindlessly drew in an old sketchbook Jeongguk had given you the first few nights you were here.

 He obviously didn’t want to be heard, immediately backtracking as soon as his paw made a creak in the wood flooring of the porch. 

“Jeongguk?” you whispered, setting your stuff down on the couch before slowly getting up. The lycan looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face, ears pinned on his head as he quickly retreated back in the forest.

 Your bare feet scratched against the harsh forest floor as you followed after him, the clean clothes one of the boys left out each night in case he came back one night in your hands as you quickly caught up to him. He wasn’t running, he was hardly even jogging, instead walking at a leisurely pace ahead of you with his nose held high. 

He stopped behind a tree to shift, the sounds making your nose curl in disgust as you dropped the clothes on the floor next to him before turning around to give him privacy. You could hear the sound of him pulling his pants up, facing him again once you heard him start to walk away. 

“Where have you been, Jeongguk?” you questioned, your anger quickly rising as he made it a point to stay silent. Fresh scratches and bruises littered his sides and shoulders, the sight making you even more upset than before. 

“What happened, Guk? Why are you all beat up?” your anger was quickly replaced with worry, tears welling in your eyes at the sight of him. His standoffish attitude was really starting to affect you, you hadn’t even had a chance to properly see his face as he kept his back turned towards you but you would bet it looked just as worse as the rest of him. 

“Everybody was worried about you,” tears were falling down your cheeks openly now, the pent up emotions finally making an appearance. Your voice was shaky and low as you confessed, “I was worried about you.”

Jeongguk stopped suddenly at that, his fists clenching at his sides as he hung his head. You carefully made your way up to him, your cold palm against his hot skin making him jump slightly as you touched the center of his back. His face wasn’t as bad as you expected, a small cut on his cheek being the only thing you could see as you stepped in front of him. 

“Did you feel anything between us?” He looked vulnerable as he asked you that question, nothing like the big bad Alpha that you first met all those months ago. The thought made you chuckle, your hand reaching up to softly stroke the cut on his face. “Anything at all?” 

“Of course I did, Guk.” you smiled, your thumb tracing indistinguishable shapes on his cheek as you looked into his eyes. 

“Then why won’t you stay with me?” 

You sighed, closing your eyes for a brief moment before reopening them. He was young, younger than you at least, so you knew you couldn’t blame him for not understanding. “It’s not that simple, Jeongguk you know that.”  

The lycan nodded, the once hopeful look in his eye dying as he attempted to take a step back away from your touch. You grabbed him before he could, both of your hands cupping his cheeks as you forced him to look at you. 

“But we will find a way,” you smiled at him, your heart fluttering at the confused expression on his face. “I’m not going to leave you, Guk. Never.”

You intended to keep true to your statement, there had to be a way to figure this all out. No situation was purely black and white, and you’ll find the shades of gray in between no matter what. 

The feeling of his lips was incredibly warm as he pushed them against yours, slightly chapped but otherwise still soft. The amount of emotion he put into kissing you wasn’t anything you felt before, the feeling of his tongue sweeping against the plumpness of your lower lip and the heat from his body sending butterflies in your stomach. 

His hands fell down to your hips, pushing up your t-shirt to feel the softness of your stomach beneath his palms with battered breaths before pushing you back. You gasped at the feeling of the rough tree bark against you, his body pinning you further back as he continued exploring your mouth with his own. 

You pulled back slightly, breathing heavily and your lips red and plump with saliva. Jeongguk smirked at the sight, his thumb coming up to pull down your bottom lip with the tip of his finger before moving his mouth to the sensitive skin of your neck. The elongated point of his incisors scrapped lightly against your pulse, making you shudder at the sensation.

This was everything Jeongguk dreamed of; the feeling of your soft skin beneath his claws and the innocent look in your eyes as you stared up at him. The things he’d do to you as you lied beneath him, baring your neck in submission to your Alpha as pumped you full of his seed in hopes of putting his pups in your belly. He shuddered at the thought. 

The strands of his hair were silky beneath your fingertips, gasping and tugging at the roots as he bit down on a certain area of your neck that made your core clench. You didn’t know if he could smell your quickly rising arousal, but judging by the smirk you felt against your lips as he kissed his way back up your neck proved he did. 

“Guk,” you whispered, whimpering at the feeling of his palm applying pressure lightly against your navel. “Are we-?” 

Jeongguk opened his eyes, his hands stilling immediately as he moved his face in front of yours. “Do you want to?” 

“I do.” You nodded, moving your hands from his hair to his bare back, mindful of the bruises and cuts already there. The lycan continued his ministrations, pulling your shirt above your head quickly before making his way down your clavicle. You were hyper aware of the fact you were outside, mindful of anything, or anyone, who may be watching or listening. 

“So pretty,” Jeongguk murmured into your skin, biting and sucking marks into your breast. You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue on your nipple, sucking it into his mouth before pulling back and blowing cold air on it. His hands were on your waist, kneading roughly as he pushed his body further against yours. “You don’t understand how long I’ve wanted this.”

“Me too,” Your voice was breathy, your hands reached down to palm him slowly over his jeans as his whimpers of pleasure sent waves of arousal through your body. He pulled back from your grip, smirking at you as you attempted to reign him back in--your body cold and exposed to anybody who may be watching.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him pick up his discarded hoodie, laying it out on the forest floor before walking back over to you. He led you back towards it slowly, his mouth back on yours as he licked into your mouth and his hand wrapped around your throat possessively. 

The fabric was soft against your knees as he carefully pushed you down, the feeling of his warm hand splayed around your neck making you dizzy in pleasure. 

“Guk,” you whispered, kissing one of the bruises that were blossoming on his side gently. He moved his hand from your neck to hair, tightening it in a fist as you unbuttoned his jeans, pushing down the denim to expose his cock to your hungry eyes.  

Jeongguk was big, flushed red at the tip with veins running along the skin, hot and heavy in your hand as you gripped him. Your mouth watered slightly at the sight, pushing your thighs together before licking a long stripe from the base all the way to the head. His groans made your core clench, shifting desperately for friction. 

Your lips wrapped around his cock, stretching around his girth as your tongue wrapped around the tip and dipped into the slit. The lycan moaned loudly, his fist tightening in your hair and tugging you down slowly. 

“‘S this okay?” Jeongguk asked quietly, whimpering at the feeling of you humming an affirmative around him. You worked on getting him slick with spit, a steady rhythm starting to form the more you bobbed your head up and down. 

Gagging slightly at the pressure at the back of your throat you went as far down as you could, tears bubbling in your eyes as you relished in the pleasured moans coming from his mouth. You could feel your core clenching around nothing, the wetness between your thighs making you shift uncomfortably at the emptiness. 

Pulling off with a pop saliva dripped down your chin, your hands spreading the wetness on his shaft as you looked up at him with fucked out eyes. You felt his hand wrap lightly around your throat again, the pressure intoxicating as you pushed you to lie down on the ground. 

Jeongguk’s mouth was back on yours as soon as your back touched the fabric, his forearms caged around your head. You moaned at the feeling of one of his hands coming down to rub your core over the thin material of your leggings, hips rising of their own accord to chase after the feeling.

“Mmm, you’re so wet, baby,” The lycan purred, biting down on your bottom lip with one of his incisors. It stung, you could taste the iron as blood seeped from the cut and into your mouth. Jeongguk growled at the sight, taking the chance to lick into your mouth and taste the blood on your tongue with his own. 

The feeling was intoxicating, your head swimming with pleasure as you felt Jeongguk’s rough fingers dip beneath your clothes and stroke your bare core. You haven’t been this intimate with anybody in a long time, so you were extremely sensitive to all his advances. 

“Fuck,” you whimpered, wincing at the slight burn as he inserted a fingered into you slowly. You haven’t had anything inside of you for so long, welcoming the pain that came with it.

“Gonna stretch you out nice and good,” Jeongguk whispered in your ear, biting on the soft flesh there. “Make sure you’re ready to take my fat cock, isn’t that right baby?” 

You nodded at his words, grinding your hips onto his fingers as the tightening feeling in your lower stomach kept building. His words were affecting you more than you thought, your fluids dripping down his digits and soaking your leggings. 

He hastily got rid of the offending garment, a slight tearing sound reaching your ears as you were left completely bare in front of his hungry eyes. You gasped when you were suddenly flipped over, cheek pressed up against the soft fabric of Jeongguk’s hoodie and your hips pulled high in a rather demeaning, submissive position. 

The sudden feeling of the lycan’s rough tongue on your core made you whimper from pleasure, his rough hands spreading your lips and further exposing you. You flushed deeply in embarrassment at the feeling of your juices leaking down the inside of your thighs, though Jeongguk eagerly lapped them up with no sounds of protest. 

With the pressure on your clit and the fullness of his fingers scissoring deep in your core you couldn’t help it, the budding tightness unravelling as you came onto his tongue. Your body shook lightly, trembling in his grip as you attempted to bite back your moans. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Jeongguk confessed, his mouth glistening with the aftermath of your orgasm. He gave you a little bit to recover before you felt his tip pushing against your entrance, the sensitivity from your previous release making you whimper and recoil slightly. 

His body covered yours as he leaned over you, sandwiching you between the floor and him as he pushed slowly into you inch by inch. He felt so good inside you, hot and pulsing between your thighs with each forward stroke. 

“I’m going to breed you so good, baby,” Jeongguk moaned, linking his fingers with your own as he finally bottomed out in you. “Make you take this knot and put a litter of pups deep in that little womb of yours. Wouldn’t you like that?” 

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes as he pulled all the way out before slamming back in. It hurt, but the pain mingled with the pleasure deliciously--taking everything he was giving you with a stream of satisfied moans. The only thing that managed to distract you from the pleasant fullness of your core was the mention of the word ‘knot’. You didn’t understand what he meant by that, but you also didn’t attempt to evaluate his words as your body jerked forward at the next thrust. 

Your juices were leaking all over Jeongguk’s sweatshirt, staining the fabric and making you flush at the scene when you lowered your head to peer in between your legs. The sight of your lower stomach bulging with the lycan’s cock only made you more wet, your moans and whimpers echoing in the quickly darkening forest. 

Jeongguk took notice of your fascination, moving one of his hands from your hips to palm gently below your navel. It felt better than you thought it would, your knees trembling and threatening to give out from beneath you from the pleasure. He leaned back on his knees from his previous position over you, his other palm warm against your skin as he pushed between your shoulder blades. 

“Harder,” you cried, shutting your eyes at the feeling of another orgasm quickly building. Jeongguk complied, his fingers pushing hard against your clit and relishing in the feeling of your walls squeezing him tightly. 

He was a complete mess, almost as much as you were, your cum sticky on his thighs and sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. The thin strings of your juices connecting you two together made a gross wet noise each time he pulled out, the sounds it made as he pushed back in making him growl in enjoyment. 

Your orgasm hit you like a truck, your vision going black as you shut your eyes at the overwhelming feeling. The oversensitivity made you wince as Jeongguk kept fucking you, slightly pulling away from him before he roughly pulled you back. 

“Almost there, baby,” He whispered, kissing your neck reassuringly. He was almost there, he could feel his stomach tightening with his impending release. “Take it, Y/N. I know you can.” 

Nodding, you continued to moan at the slightly painful feeling. It felt good, so good, tears falling onto your flushed, sweaty cheeks as your body jerked forward with each rub against your walls. 

Something felt wrong, the pressure between your legs was growing and getting tighter with each thrust Jeongguk made inside of you. Paired with the oversensitivity from your two previous orgasms, it hurt to feel stretched out so much. 

“G-guk wait,” you whimpered, clenching your fists around the fabric beneath you as you shut your eyes shut at the pain. “Hurts-” 

“It’s okay, It’s okay,” Jeongguk shushed, brushing your sweaty hair back from your face as he pushed you further to the ground. “You can take my knot, right baby?”

You sighed at the mention of his knot, wondering if this is what he meant by it-- the growing and painful pressure stretching your core to it’s max with no signs of stopping. You trusted Jeongguk, though, and knew he wouldn’t do anything deliberate to hurt you. “I can, yea. I can.” 

The feeling of his cum emptying inside you made you moan, warm against your walls and temporarily distracting you from the pain of his inflating knot. With one last hard thrust you two were locked together, Jeongguk moaning loudly from behind you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. The scraping of his elongated teeth against your skin made you shiver as he continued to release inside you. 

He slowly rolled the two of you onto your sides once he was finished, gripping the inside of your thigh and holding it up slightly to prevent the two of you from experiencing any unnecessary pain. Looking down at your battered and abused core, you saw Jeongguk’s excess cum leaking from the sides of his knot; wet and sticky on the sides of your thighs. The visual made you flush deeply. 

You were beyond tired, slumping tiredly against the boy as you felt his warm tongue licking your skin. The feeling made you chuckle. “What are you doing?” 

“Grooming you,” Jeongguk mumbled nonchalantly, continuing without hesitation. He swept over your abundance of bite marks and hickeys with the wet muscle, pausing to leave little kisses on each one of them. His palm was heavy as he cupped your stomach protectively. 

“Can I bite you?” 

“Can you what?”

You looked over your shoulder at the boy, taking in his fucked out expression and incredibly flushed cheeks as he stared at you with his intimidating red eyes. He didn’t seem affected by your surprise. 

“Bite you, mark you as mine.” His voice suddenly got quiet, lowering to look at the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he stroked the skin there softly. “Make you my mate.” 

Thinking back to Yoongi’s words, you knew the implications that came with what he said. You also knew that by agreeing to be Jeongguk’s mate, you would have little to no chance of going back to the life you once had. But everything Jeongguk gave you, everything he made you feel wasn’t something you wanted to give up. 

“Okay,” You whispered, closing your eyes before reopening them and giving the boy a small smile. The look on his face was indescribable, your heart beating just a little bit faster as you both looked at each other in happiness. “Okay.” 

His lips were on yours in a second, pushing hard against your own with a smile on his face. You kissed back with the same enthusiasm, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth quickly before he pulled back. 

“It’s going to hurt a bit,” Jeongguk murmured against your lips, gently pushing your face back against the fabric so he could reach your shoulder easily. He kissed the skin of your neck lightly, your pulse hot against his mouth as he gripped your hand, running his thumb along the raised scar there. “Don’t be scared.” 

You didn’t have much time to prepare before there was an immense pain spreading throughout your entire body, your screams of pain disturbing the quiet forest around you. It burned so much, the feeling indescribable as the feeling continued to spread throughout your entire body. His teeth weren’t in there for long, pulling back out after a couple of seconds as you felt blood drip down your back. 

“Hey,” Jeongguk whispered, cupping your cheek in his hand as he pulled your face up to his. You could see the blood staining his face and teeth, dripping down his neck and chin as he consoled you through the pain. “You’re okay, I promise.” 

Looking at him through the tears you smiled, kissing the worried look off his face as the burning pain finally started to diminish. The taste of iron was heavy on your tongue. 

----------

Both of you did, in fact, manage to find a way. 

About a week after you and Jeongguk’s endeavor in the woods, he had managed to convince you to move everything from your grandfather’s cabin into your room while you moved in with him in his. It took a lot of consideration, and negotiation from Jeongguk’s side, but you were happy. 

That being said, you still visited the cabin every now and then to make sure everything was okay. 

Walking back into the pack house afterwards was awkward, you couldn’t look anybody in the eye as you walked past them, attempting to hide all the marks on your neck with your shirt while Jeongguk grinned ear to ear like a damn fool. 

It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, the smell of blood and sex tainted the air as soon as you stepped foot in the house much to yours and Seokjins adamant dismay. He yelled at both of you after you showed up, going off on how you could have at least washed off in the lake to at least attempt to hide what you two were up to, and to Jeongguk for running away like a hormonal, upset teenager. 

You were told that once Jeongguk bit you, you didn’t have your own unique scent anymore. Instead, you were permanently masked by Jeongguk’s smell to remind everybody who you belonged to. The fact made you blush when he told you, the thought oddly comforting and making your belly tighten. 

As you were packing everything into boxes to transport them back to the pack house, you had given Namjoon the picture that used to be above your fireplace mantle, now knowing who the once mysterious wolves next to him were. He thanked you immensely. 

Overall, everybody was happy. You were happy. This was a new beginning in your life, and you wouldn’t change anything that happened for the world. 

[muchadoaboutstartrek]

@iron-moon said something about needing a hurt/comfort fic on @tinderbox210 post about the unhappy childhoods. Now there isn't a whole hell of a lot of "childhood story" in here but it does mention Michael and oh, there is also a lot of tears in this one... so beware. Happy ending though. Hope you like it🤗

Sadness was a funny and a fickle bitch sometimes, La'an concluded, and so was grief. They had a habit of sneaking up on you when you least expected it to happen.

She hasn't been plagued by nightmares of her time with the gorn for months and she wanted to hit herself for the foolish assumption she might have "grown out" of that phase.

Evidently, as she sat in an empty observation room with her back to the cold wall and with tears streaming down her face as flashing images of her brother swam before her eyes, she was wrong.

She wiped the tears from her eyes angrily, the skin under them angry and raw from the constant rubbing and flood of slated water that continued falling like a waterfall. She sniffled, breathing in a shaky breath that got punched out of her lungs as a sob, fresh set of tears sliding down her puffy cheeks. La'an brought her hand up to her mouth to muffle the sounds coming out of her mouth, she didn't wish to be found in this position.

The automatic doors opened somewhere behind her and she rushed to compose herself, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her uniform (not very lady like of her) and getting up from the floor. She took a deep breath and plastered a professional look on her face, her eyes hardening and swallowing a lump in her throat. Her shaky hands laced themselves behind her back and she turned, now slightly more sure she won't break down that very same second, to face whoever decided to use the observation deck at the same time as her.

She was met with an openly worried expression and furrowing of upsweapt brows and twitching of pointed ears. La'an gritted her teeth as another wave of sadness washed over her, pulling her under and tossing her around like a surfer that made a misstep. She gulped and bit her tongue, Spock following the line of her throat as it constricted around a ball of desolation and an empty feeling. His eyes softened as his eyes froze on her face, noticing the streaks of dried mascara and eyeshadow.

Without saying anything, he stepped closer to her. She remained stubbornly still until the tips of his boots touched her's, his head tilted slightly to the side almost like he was studying her and wondering what is an appropriate course of action in this situation. La'an's breathing picked up again, her torso expanding with short and irregular breaths as she fought to keep herself in check. Her walls crumbled as Spock's shoulder relaxed, the line of them tilting downwards slightly, and he opened his arms. She collapsed into his solid body, the only thing keeping her upright at the moment, as gutwrenching sobs shook her small frame. She clung to him like one would to a lifeboat in a stormy sea with raging waves that threatened to push her into the blackness and for the shadows to drown her.

She was pretty sure her tears were staining his spotless science blue shirt, one that he would undoubtedly need to change after this for the remaining of their shift. That made her feel even more guilty, that he was pulled from his duties in order to find her, her sadness seeping to him through the light bond they shared, like she was some hopeless child and not a fully competent adult that should have been able to control herself instead of rushing off the bridge when it overwhelmed her.

Her hands were gripping the back of his shirt and leaving wrinkles as his own arms raised around her, his steady fingers tracing the lines of her back muscles as he waited for her to calm down. She had no idea how long they stood there like that, holding onto each other, but relief couldn't come soon enough to La'an. It felt like it's been ages when her sobs finally turned into hickups and she was finally allowed to breathe in a lungfull of air. She slumped against Spock, a sudden bouts of fatigue washing over her making her reluctant to open her eyes and detangle herself from the safety and comfort of his arms. She could feel him run his nose along her hairline, inhaling the scent of her and her shampoo, and rest his chin on top of her head.

La'an was greatful to him, for his patience, even though she knew he was probably boiling inside to learn the reason for her distress. She sighed into his chest, snuggling closer as his arms tightened around her.

"Thank You." She whispered against him, her hands no longer gripping and clawing onto his back, now simply resting there. She felt him exhale a quick puff of air through his nose, practically a chuckle coming out of him, and she felt his lips skim along her forehead before they pressed a gentle kiss above her eyebrow.

She didn't necessarily mean to speak about her troubles but as the calm spread through her, her muscles finally coming out of the hour long cramp, she spoke before she even knew she was doing it. "My brother. I thought about my brother."

Spock raised his head, his arms untangling from her just enough for him to peer down at her. Her eyes were closed, her lids felt almost like bricks, she had no desire to move from her current position. Is she had been looking, she would have noticed his eyes soften even more as a small smile creeped up on his lips. "The emotions I have received from you were... chaotic. It was concerning since your mind is very much in order otherwise. That is why I came to find You, it was obvious something was causing you distress." He sighed, La'an's head resting on his chest and moving with the motion as she listened to the distant echo of his heartbeat. "I grieve with thee."

"Mhm... Spock?" Her voice was small and quiet, had he not been in position of having shaper senses he would not have heard her speak.

"Yes La'an?"

There was a slight pregnant pause, Spock could feel her anxiety through the skin contact before she steeled herself and spoke more confidently. "Tell me about Michael?"

She felt Spock tense beneath her arms as he sucked in a surprised breath. He certanly was not expecting that question.

"She was...." He began, his voice quiet but sure. "Fascinating." He stopped for a second, almost like he was searching the correct words. "You remind me of her."

"I do?" She raised an eyebrow, still not opening her eyes or moving from him in any sort of way.

"Indeed. You are both stubborn and hot headed, to adopt the vernacular with which you might be fammiliar with, but you try to think logically first and foremost. You are not always successful however." She felt his chest vibrate with pride. "Intelligent... loyal... You share all those characteristics."

"Do you miss her?" The question slipped from her lips without her premission but it was too late to back away now.

"I do." He whispered. There was a lot of pain in his voice. "Every single day."

She raised her head from his chest, her eyes bleary and unfocused but determined. Her hands cupped the sides of his neck and she tilted her head up as his lips pressed against her's. The kiss was gentle and almost chaste, not a single trace of the usual wild passion present. It wasn't meant to be sexual after all but comforting.

He broke the kiss and placed series of smaller ones along her cheek as she melted against him. She sighed when he finally broke away completely. "We should go back... we still have couple hours of our shift left."

Spock nodded, his arms not moving from her, preventing her from leaving. "Just... a few more minutes." She smiled but complied, her head once again finding rest on his chest.

[scapegrace74-blog]

New Ways of Turning Into Stone, Chapter 7

A/N  For anyone waiting patiently for this chapter, I apologize.  Somewhere in the midst of writing this story, I fell out of love with it, making it very hard to find the inspiration to finish. I’m too stubborn to abandon it, though, so here is the final chapter.  The good news is the angst fest is over, for the most part.  Slight reference to child trafficking in the past.  Thanks to everyone who read and interacted with this story!  This final chapter is entitled A Dragonfly in Amber.

The whole story can be found on my A03 page.

Eighteen Months Later

The breeze off the firth was picking up, and Claire wished she’d grabbed a  jumper before leaving her flat.  She spent a lot of time these days looking back at the million decisions that made up a life, aware of their path as though they were footprints visible to the eye.  Where once missteps would have inspired judgement or shame, she could now chart their passage with a certain measure of peace.

A rare free Thursday brought her to a seasonal market in what was otherwise a car park overlooking Edinburgh Castle.  With no specific objective in mind, she wandered the stalls of fresh produce and locally made crafts, meandering but purposeful.  A jar of raw honey and a half-dozen blueberry scones made their way into her tote bag before she stopped at a store selling beautifully woven woolen goods, thinking that she could perhaps invest in a shawl.

Lifting the various offerings from where they were displayed, something caught her eye.  Beneath the many-patterned pile of wool stood a beautiful wooden chest, its heft and patina speaking of its craftsmanship.   It had been painted in a rusted umber, the shape of a dragonfly elegantly carved into its solid lid.

“Tis lovely, is it no’?” a soft lilt startled her from her trance.

“Yes, very.  Is it for sale?”  She had no idea why she’d asked.  Her flat was crowded enough as it was and frivolous purchases no longer within her budget.

“Alas, no.  Twas an anniversary gift from my man.”  Perhaps seeing the disappointment register on her face, the woman added, “I can give ye the card o’ the man who made it, at least.  Ye’re no’ the first tae have admired his work.”

Claire’s hands shook slightly as the shopkeeper sought out the card, an eerie sense of premonition settling over her.  Sure enough, the familiar names leapt into relief as she accepted the woman’s offering:

Lallybroch Furniture Design

James Fraser, Proprietor

***

The afternoon and evening passed in a blur of obligations and routine.  It was only as she settled into the peace of her own bedroom that Claire allowed her thoughts to return to the business card tucked safely into her wallet.  

She’d known Jamie was still in the city.  While she’d resisted the urge to seek him out a thousand times, she couldn’t stop herself from searching his name on the Internet.  A harmless indulgence, she rationalized, and one that assured her that he was well, his business going from strength to strength. Despite the capitol’s tight-knit community, however, their paths had never crossed.  Until now.

Was it a sign?  Long Ago Claire paid no heed to such foolishness, but that was before a chance encounter spun her life one hundred and eighty degrees, sending her down a brand new path.  Now she accepted these memos from the universe with humility.  Tomorrow, she would go looking for Jamie Fraser.

***

Jamie heard the jingle of the bells above the door, even over the mechanical whirr of his sander.  Unbending and blowing a sweaty curl off his forehead, he admired the intricate scrollwork of the custom hutch that was his latest commission.  It still amazed him to watch his visions take shape before his eyes.  If life hadn’t slapped him hard across the face, knocking him far off course, he might have spent the rest of his days unaware of the gift that resided between his hands.

“Took ye long enough, Geordie,” he called out to the footsteps approaching from the door.  “Where’d ye go fer the varnish, Glasgow?”

There was a pause, and an eerie sense of premonition settled over him.  Today was going to be the day.

“It’s not Geordie, it’s me.  Claire.”  He’d thought of her voice each day for the past eighteen months, and yet he hadn’t been able to summon its exact timbre: sonorous, precise, with a smoky finish like well-aged whisky.

“Claire,” he replied to the universe, summoning her by name before he even turned around.

Sawdust motes danced in a sunbeam descending from a clerestory window, illuminating the mahogany in her curls.  She was everything he remembered, and so much more.  The nacre of her skin, now dusted with cinnamon freckles.  The topaz of her eyes less fierce, more open, and overwhelmingly anxious.  The tight line of her jaw was less defined, her once whippet-thin figure filled out into plush curves.  Overall the impression was one of softness, of willing vulnerability.

“The door was open,” she explained needlessly, her eyes drinking him in hungrily.  He wondered what changes she read on his surface.

“It’s... uhhh...” his voice wobbled painfully, “it’s good tae see ye, Sassenach.  How have ye been?”

He hadn’t trusted himself to seek her out since Maggie’s death, understanding that they both needed time to heal.  It didn’t stop him from zeroing in on every glimpse of brown curls, nor from reading wedding announcements with an invisible fist gripping his throat.  If it was meant to be, he counselled himself, they would find one another when the time was right.  And now she was here, standing in his workshop and more lovely than his zealous imaginings.

“Good,” she replied, eyes meeting and then sheering away from his gaze.  “Really good.  Busy.”  She was gripping the strap of her handbag like a parachute cord, and he couldn’t help glancing at her left hand, selfishly relieved to note it was still bare.

“I, ummm, I saw one of your pieces.  At the market yesterday.  Not for sale, of course.  The woman offered me your card, so I thought, you know, that I might...  You’re really very talented, Jamie,” she prattled nervously.

He blushed, delighted by her praise.  “I thank ye, Claire.”  To taste her name in his mouth, so long forbidden, was intoxicating.  He would never tire of saying it.

“And yer work?  Tis Friday.  Are ye taking a well-deserved day off?”

“Oh, no.  I’m not practicing anymore, Jamie.”

He froze, horrified.  Of all the scenarios he’d played out in his mind, he’d never imagined her anything but a doctor. It was too much a part of who she was.  A familiar sense of oppressive responsibility crept over him.  If he’d somehow caused this to happen...

“Sassenach, no...” he whispered.

To his utter confusion, she laughed, merry and bright as the bells that had announced her return to his life.

“It’s alright, truly.  I, well, a lot has changed since last year,” she explained, a glimmer of something coy transforming her face.  His wame sunk into his feet.

“Ye’ve met someone.”   A statement of fact.  Punishment for wishing for something that wasn’t meant to be.

Her spritely laugh rang out again, increasing his pain.  He felt the old, habitual hardening around his heart, and fought to keep his breath steady.  No matter how much it hurt, he owed it to Claire to listen to her joy.

“In a manner of speaking.  His name is Fergus, and he’s eight years old.”

Startled, he stared into her upturned face, trying to read the truth in her features.  A hand, delicate but strong, took his own.  He held onto it like a lifeline as she told her unlikely tale.

Shortly after their last meeting, Claire had been walking through Grassmarket when she’d been jostled by a running figure.  It was only upon righting herself that she realized she was without her phone.   Giving chase, she eventually cornered the thief down a blind alley, only to realize that it was a young boy, unkempt and malnourished.

Rather than turn the pickpocket in, Claire had negotiated an exchange: her phone for a four-course meal and the story of how a boy of his age, with a heavy French accent no less, had come to live on the streets of Edinburgh.

“He was trafficked, Jamie.  A group in Paris were keeping him and other orphans in a brothel.  When they came to transport them, Fergus escaped.  He hid in a lorry, and this is where it brought him.  He had no coat, no money, hardly any English, but he’d been surviving on his wits for six weeks before I found him.  I can’t bear to think what might have happened to him had we not crossed paths that winter’s day.”

“Christ,” he swore, thinking of his own nephew, and what he wouldn’t give to protect the lad’s innocence.

Claire went on to describe the painstaking process of reporting Fergus, whose real name was Claudel, to the authorities without allowing him to be deported back to France and into the waiting hands of the very people he had escaped.

“There was no formal steps to follow, no real resources I could rely on.  I ended up filing for adoption, because it was the only way to keep him safe.  In the beginning, he needed all my attention.  He had no formal schooling and had to learn English in a hurry.  He suffered from terrible nightmares.  I transferred all my patients, shut down the office, but I assumed it was only temporary, until he felt more secure and could go to school with other kids his age.  But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Fergus isn’t the only trafficked child in Scotland.  I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do whatever I could to protect every one of them.  So I quit.  I’d made some contacts at ECPAT in London, trying to sort out the mess with Fergus’ immigration paperwork.   I called them up and offered my services on a part-time basis.  A former pediatrician with experience in grief counselling.  They couldn’t accept fast enough.  So now, when I’m not busy being Fergus’ mom, I’m the executive director of ECPAT here in Scotland.”

“Christ,” he repeated.  “Sassenach, I’m...  God, ye’re an amazing woman.”

It was her turn to blush, glancing down to notice that their hands were still clasped, fingers woven together like thirsty roots.  They were standing toe to toe, breathing in harmony.  Jamie smelled of pine, a sharp sweetness that seemed to cling to his body.  She dared a look upwards and found his gaze locked on her mouth.  Oceans stormed in the depths of his eyes.

“You’ve got a little...” she reached for his jaw, “...a little something, right here...”  Before she could dislodge the fleck of sawdust trapped in his auburn stubble, Jamie’s whole body surged forward, their noses practically bumping.

“Sassenach...” he beseeched.

“Yes?”  Wispy, fluttering wings of hope surrounded her.

“I’ve bided as long as I can.  May I please, for the love of all tha’s holy, finally kiss ye?”

A tiny nod, a murmured assent, then their lips took up the conversation that had begun so many months before.  There, in a dusty workshop at eleven o’clock on a Friday morning, the last obstacle that stood between them came crashing to the ground.  In its place came warmth and certainty, a candleflame of cherished possibility. 

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By My Side (Part 3)

Summary: The reader and Jensen take a quiet moment to get to know one another. While the reader feels like she and Jensen are finally starting to get along for the better, Jensen pulls back and she’s informed her family is coming by to visit...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 3,700ish

Warnings: language, near drowning, angst

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

One Week Later

“Good morning,” you said as Jensen yawned, walking into your new and bright kitchen. You sipped on your coffee, Jensen running a hand through his hair.

“Morning. I haven’t slept in on the weekend in forever,” he said. “Speaking of which, what are you doing up? You’re never out of bed this early.”

“Coffee date,” you said, nodding towards the mug at the counter. You smiled as you saw Jensen put it together just as Owen walked in. 

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll get out of your hair,” said Jensen.

“S’no problem. You’re the bodyguard, right?” asked Owen.

“Yeah,” he said, looking Owen up and down. “Well, you look like you can handle yourself.”

“I do alright,” he said.

“Eh, strong and good looking. I approve,” said Jensen. He turned to head back upstairs, a big laugh escaping you as Owen raised an eyebrow. “Sorry. The privacy thing. I forgot.”

“He’s kinda weird,” said Owen under his breath, Jensen’s shoulders tensing as he walked away. 

“He’s just protective. It’s kinda his job,” you said.

“Well he’s still weird,” he said.

“Well he’s part of my life,” you said. “He’s not going away anytime soon.”

“Maybe we should do this another time,” he said. 

“Excellent idea,” you said. You showed him the way out, your eyes mid roll as you went back upstairs. You headed for your room to change into something more comfortable when you heard Jensen grunt from farther down the hall. You turned your head, Jensen looking uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry I messed up your date. I should have kept my mouth shut. I’ll refrain from speaking when you have guests over,” he said.

“I told him about you before he came over. He was rude and I only did the date to appease a friend. Trust me, I like you a Hell of a lot more than that guy.”

“Wow. Must be a dick then considering you hate me,” he said.

“Who said I hated you?” you smiled. “You’re growing on me, Ackles.”

“Don’t go soft on me now, Y/L/N,” he said, running his hand through his messy hair, messing it up even more. “Hey. I do have one question since this is something not really in our contract.”

“What is it?”

“Am I allowed to use the pool out back?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said. “I know you normally prepare your own meals but I wanted to make a bigger dinner tonight and there’s no use in wasting the leftovers if you want to join me.”

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll uh, see you around then.”

“I’lll see you, Ackles.”

After lunch you were sat on your back patio, trying to read a book but your eyes kept wandering over to where Jensen was swimming. He was timing himself obviously, a watch on his wrist as he swam back and forth, over and over again. You tried to not stare but it was hard not to watch the muscles rippling in his back or his shoulders flex each time he moved. After a while he stopped in the shallow end, floating on his back as he shut his eyes and caught his breath. His chest heaved and you swallowed as he straightened up and stepped out of the water.

His swim trunks stuck to his thighs as he walked over and grabbed the towel on the chair beside you. You kept your head in your book but he sat beside you, checking his watch for a minute.

“Nice swim?” you asked, Jensen wiping himself off as he sat. 

“More of a workout,” he said. “You have a good sized pool for it.”

“I have a home gym. Or will have one shortly. If you want anything for it, just let me know and I can order it,” you said, turning the page. 

“You got a bench press?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “Just email me a link to whatever you want and I’ll get it.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s a business expense. I think keeping you strong is part of your job,” you said. You glanced over the page and he nodded.

“You one of those yoga girls?” he asked.

“You got something against yoga?” you asked.

“No. It requires more strength than people realize, especially in the legs,” he said. “Simply asking.”

“I pretty much do what the show tells me to. Bike, HIIT, do some weight training, yoga for flexibility. Nothing major,” you said.

“How do they enforce something like that?” he asked as he ran the towel over his head.

“It’s more of an honor system kind of thing,” you said. “They gave Gen and me personal trainers before the show started but that was it.”

“You ever do boxing, kick boxing, that sort of thing?” he asked.

“Kick boxing. I broke my hand when I did boxing. Was in a brace half of season two because of it.”

He stared at you before he grabbed both your wrists in one hand, your book falling into your lap. You scowled but he threw his hand over your mouth before you could speak. He tugged your hands downward and you took a deep inhale, Jensen nodding.

“Good. You didn’t panic. It’s hard to teach that one,” he said. “You don’t need to learn strength. You have it already. We just need to fine tune how to use it if I’m not around.”

You mumbled and he moved his hand away.

“I thought I was going to be taking a class.”

“You’re better suited to learn one on one. Jared offered to help with some more examples if needed,” he said. He tugged on your hands again, pulling them closer to him and making you scoot over to the edge of your chair. “Without harming me, how do you get out?”

“I’m not gonna care about not harming someone if this was real,” you said.

“True. But I’d like to see how your brain works under duress when it’s challenged. I’m not gonna hurt you but I will make this uncomfortable. If you want me to stop, just give me the finger, okay?” 

“What are you gonna do?” you asked, swallowing thickly.

“Not gonna hurt you. Just gonna send your brain into hyperdrive. Trust me?” he asked. You nodded and he smiled. “Good. Like I said, try to get your hands free without hurting me.”

Next thing you knew he yanked you up to your feet and practically dragged you over to the grass. He pushed you down and threw a hand over your mouth and nose, your eyes wide.

“Relax. You’re smart. Think.”

You tried squirming out but it was no use and he had your hands pinned to your chest. You tried looking around but his hand stayed on you and you squeezed your eyes shut. Think. He wanted you to think.

He had decided to do this out of the blue, after you told him what you did for your training for the show. Something in what you’d said obviously gave him an idea that you knew how to get out.

You opened your eyes and stared up at him, Jensen staring down. You planted your feet flat on the ground and thrust up, moving him off of you enough for his hand to fall away from your face. You took a deep breath as you used your leg to block his arm before you rolled on top of him, sitting on his chest with your legs on either side of his neck.

“Let go or I make you,” you said with a pant. He released your hands like that, giving you a nod of approval. “That wasn’t so-”

He rolled and grabbed for you again but you rolled out of the way, doing it once more and feeling your skin scrap on concrete before you fell right into the water.

You were still getting your breath back and had tried sucking in as you fell, immediately coughing as the water shifted and an arm wrapped around your waist. You coughed up a bit of water when you broke the surface, Jensen swimming into the shallow end with you.

“You’re okay,” he said as you coughed some more water up, a hand running up and down your back. You let out a large hack and felt better after that, Jensen picking you up and carrying you back over to the patio. He sat you down on the chair and gently shoved your head between your knees, the back door opening for a moment before he returned.

He put a towel over you and you sat up, his hand running over your head.

“Didn’t mean to nearly drown you,” he said. You nodded, letting out a small cough and putting your hand on your throat. “Take a quick shower and I’ll clean up that arm. I got the trick for that throat too.”

You nodded and stood up, heading inside and rinsing off the chlorine. You changed into fresh clothes and came downstairs, Jensen coming back from his room with a red duffel bag.

“What’s that?” you asked, your hand shooting to your neck again.

“First aid. I could perform surgery on you with what’s in this bag if I had to,” he said. “Try not to talk.”

He set the bag on the kitchen counter, digging around and pulling out a few things. He took your arm and wiped it off with something that burned over the skin, carefully wrapping some gauze over the raw flesh. He set the bag on the ground and went into the cupboard, taking out a glass. He filled it with water and took out the bottle of honey from the pantry, squeezing a good amount inside before he mixed it up and stuck a tea bag in it before nuking it. He stirred it again when it was done and handed it to you. You took a cautious sip but it made your throat feel better and you smiled.

“Nearly drowned on a mission once. The medic said his mom would do that whenever he had a really bad sore throat and it did the trick.”

“You almost drowned? I thought you were superman,” you said. Jensen smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. “You were holding your breath when you were swimming earlier, weren’t you, testing yourself.”

“Don’t want to be in that position again,” he said. “We will keep our distance from the water if we practice outdoors again. You did good. I see why you got away the first time.”

“Well, I feel like a dumbass,” you said, shaking your head.

“I’m the dumbass, not you. It was dangerous to do that so close to the water. It was dangerous to do in the first place without telling you.”

“Yeah but I understood your point. If shit goes wrong, I can’t panic, no matter how much I want to,” you said.

“I’m still sorry. I’m going to clean up and go out for awhile. I might not come home tonight,” he said.

“I thought you living here was so I’m not alone,” you said.

“One night won’t kill you. There’s no real threats against you at the moment anyways. Besides, I think I said I would keep my private life away from the house,” he said, giving you a look.

“Oh. You’re looking for a hookup tonight,” you said. “You don’t seem like a hookup guy.”

“I don’t think that’s your concern. Just...don’t worry if you don’t see me the rest of the day,” he said before he headed to his room. 

“Alrighty then,” you said. “You do you, Jensen.”

It was just after midnight when you were in the mood for a snack. You skipped down the stairs, whistling as you hopped into the kitchen.

“What are-”

You screamed and jumped back into the kitchen, a weary looking Jensen sitting up on the couch.

“Wow, you are loud,” he said, blinking slowly. You narrowed your eyes and he groaned.

“Are you drunk?” you asked, walking over as he laid back down.

“Very. I didn’t quite make it to my room,” he said. 

“You land anybody?” you asked.

“No. Just wanted a drink really, got carried away,” he said. He threw his arm over his face and sighed. You went back over to the kitchen, finding some leftovers from dinner as Jensen sat up. “Shit, I was supposed to have dinner with you tonight.”

“I offered. It wasn’t a thing. I’m gonna eat the leftovers anyways,” you said as you stuck the container in the microwave. You got out a fork and felt him watching you while you found a pasta bowl to put the food in. “Can you stop staring?”

“Be slow. Is it just me or do you see that small red light outside the back door?” he asked. You risked a small glance out the kitchen window but you didn’t see anything. “It’s on the treeline.”

“No,” you said, popping the food out of the microwave and sticking it in the bowl. You walked over to where he was and looked outside again, still seeing nothing. “There’s nothing there. You’re still drunk.”

“True but I recognize small lights in dark places,” he said, forcing himself to stand. “Take your food into my room.”

“Why?” you asked.

“Cause I’m about to find out who the fuck is in the backyard,” he said, taking his gun out of his back tholster. “Go. Now. Call the police if I’m not back in two minutes.”

“Be careful,” you said. He nodded but he was already pushing on your back and walking you upstairs into his room. He pulled the door shut behind you and you stood there for a moment, taking a bite of your pasta. You sat down on his bed, watching the door.

Almost two minutes later it opened and he took a deep breath.

“You had a paparazzi spying on your property from your neighbor Doug’s yard. I like Doug.”

“What’d he do?”

“Punched the paparazzi guy in the face. He has teenage daughters and you know how dads are when they think grown men are trying to take pictures of their daughters in their bedrooms. Cops are coming but you’re fine,” he said.

“I should go apologize,” you said.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Doug said we ever need something or if you’re in trouble, head over there. He’s ex air force.”

“How the Hell is he living in this neighborhood then?”

“His wife is some famous singer or something. I didn’t catch the whole thing. Point is, there’s no threat. I did get this pap’s name and credentials though so he and his office will be hearing from me in the morning.”

“You did all that in two minutes?”

“I’m efficient.”

“I see,” you said. “Well...thanks. Have a snack before bed. It’ll help.”

“You’re not scared?” he asked.

“No. Why would I be?” you asked. He stared at you and you left his room, Jensen clearing his throat when you were in the hall. “What?”

“I don’t get you. You should be scared, at least a little scared.”

“Well I’m not. It was a paparazzi. I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” you said. “Goodnight, Jensen.”

“You jump at me but not the fact someone was spying on you. You don’t freak out over me nearly drowning you but you get scared of someone taking you. You’re not afraid of the night or being alone but you gave in easier than I expected when I said I’d stay here all the time.”

“Maybe it’s because I trust you. I don’t know. I’m fine. Goodnight,” you said. 

“I didn’t say it was a problem,” he said. You shook your head and returned your bowl down to the kitchen. A minute later you were up in your bedroom and crawling under the covers, taking a deep breath. The bed was cool again and you pulled your covers up around you, a quiet knock at the door making you open your eyes. 

“What?” you called.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Because I remembered your day job is to pretend and you probably are very good at pretending in most any situation, even scary ones,” he said.

“What’s your point?” you said as you sat up.

“I think you’re a little shook up and I think I agreed to be nicer. I know a thing or two about feeling that way,” he said.

“Jensen. Go to bed. That’s an order,” you said.

“Yes mam.”

It was quiet and you sat back down in bed, the door suddenly opening. He walked in with a blanket and put it over you, ignoring your pout.

“I said-”

“My job is to protect you. Even from your own head sometimes. Goodnight,” he said as he pulled the door shut after himself.

“You’re still ridiculous, Ackles.”

Two Weeks Later

“How’s the manager search going?” asked Jared when he and Gen were over for dinner one night. 

“Fine,” you said, catching Jensen walk past the dining room in his suit. 

“So what’s it like having a bodyguard?” asked Gen as you caught Jensen’s eyes. He quickly turned his head away and left. 

“Fine,” you said.

“Jay says you guys don’t talk much,” said Jared.

“Not so much. We were starting to...he stopped talking to me for the most part a few weeks ago. He said he needs to focus so whatever,” you said. Gen made a face but you shoved another forkful of food in your mouth. Jared asked about the show some and you knew he was doing it on purpose which you were grateful for.

You didn’t quite understand why Jensen’s demeanor had suddenly changed. It was sweet how he had given you a blanket, not just any but one that was his personally. The morning after the paparazzi incident you were planning to tell him just that but he was already awake, in his suit and very grumpy. At first you thought he was hungover but it was just him. You’d caught him in his workout clothes once but besides that, he was all business now and didn’t talk to you unless you were going out.

“He’s cute,” said Gen, your head lifting up to realize Jared had left the room. “Jensen. Not my type but he’s hot and he’s a good guy.”

“I know he’s Jared’s friend but do you know him?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’ve known him a long time. He’s different when he’s working a job. I’ve never really seen him when he’s under a contract. Outside of work, he’s the sweetest thing there ever was, kinda like Jare in that way, you know? I’m a little surprised at his behavior to be honest. He’s a really close friend and he’s just not himself right now.”

“I’ve seen him be sweet but it’s rare. I thought we were getting along better compared to the jumping down each other’s throats we were doing but he doesn’t talk to me anymore. I don’t get it.”

“...Y/N, it’s kind of obvious what’s going on.”

“What is?”

“He likes you,” she said. “The way he looks at you-”

“He gets paid to look at me.”

“You pay him to look at you like that?” she asked. “No. That’s all him. The guy works and works and the reason he is single is cause he’s afraid he can’t do his job if he’s worried about dying and leaving the poor girl at home alone. Well you...he likes you. What do you think his genius move would be to fix that?”

“Push me away,” you said as she sat back and nodded. “He doesn’t like me. He thinks I’m a bitch.”

“Ms. Y/L/N,” said Jensen, suddenly appearing at the doorway and you knew there was no way he hadn’t just heard at least part of that conversation. With a swallow you stood, Gen finishing off her glass of wine. You followed Jensen around the corner, his body stiff.

“Listen, we were just-”

“I don’t really care. I wanted to inform you that your mother just phoned. She and the rest of your family will be coming to visit tomorrow.”

“What do you mean rest of my family?”

“Your father and brothers,” said Jensen, your face already snarling. “They said-”

“Mom was supposed to come. Just mom. Not the step family from hell,” you said. “My step brother has a record. Did you know that?”

“Yes, I was aware. Nothing abhorrent,” he said.

“Nick and Michael, the fucking wonder twins, they left me alone with a group of random weirdos to go get high on pot,” you said. “I was twelve years old!”

“I believe they will be coming as well,” said Jensen. “I will make myself scarce for the-”

“Oh no you will not,” you said. “Tomorrow is Monday and you work on Monday’s last I checked.”

“I did not say I would not work. I said I would be scarce,” he said. “Simply wanted to inform you before surprise guests appear.”

“Lovely,” you mumbled. “Tomorrow’s going to be awesome.”

__________

A/N: Read Part 4 here!