#with all the black and white your eyes are drawn to the moments of color

[aparticularbandit]

wanted to try another white-haired junko edit.

i think this one is better and definitely learned that i can't cut corners and modify a ryoko mod because whitening the pink hair is definitely easier than trying to whiten the red hair but.

the original here is already so monochromatic that whitening her hair makes it. underwhelming, i think.

[jjunieworld]

CEILINGS ˒˒ 최연준͏ ▸  𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾: 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗮 𝗯𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀

you’re both from two seperate worlds, but in the four corners of your bedroom the two of you can be together. even if your latest confession means it could be for the last time.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ choi yeonjun x fem!reader 𓄵 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 none!

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ angst, smut, secret friends with benefits to ???, secret relationship, punk!yeonjun, nerd!reader, reader wears glasses, punk x nerd trope, some bad boy x good girl trope

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ unprotected sex, soft dom!yeonjun, kinda service top!yeonjun, pussy drunk!yeonjun, clit stimulation, slight overstimulation, heavy praise kink, marking, slight bulge kink?, petnames (baby, sweetheart, good girl, babygirl), creampie, riding, cowgirl, depictions of heartbreak, a lot of desperation lmao

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ happy birthday yeonjun my love!!! ♡ ♡ ♡ and happy early ggum release!!! this is inspired by the songs ceilings by lizzy mcalpine and in my room by julia wolf! haven’t wrote angsty smut in so long, i missed it hehe! wrote this while i was suffering from a migraine (> <。) the love and deepspace brainrot has been strong so if you see familiar dialogue… ʅ（‾◡◝）ʃ i hope you enjoy!! ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

∿ [ 4k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]

if you tried really hard you could imagine that the four corners of your room was something else—somewhere else. somewhere other than your room. like, perhaps, a nice restaurant where the lights are warm and you’re sitting in the cozy back corner. or maybe a park on a day where it’s not too hot and not too cold. that perfect temperature where you can wear lighter clothing if you wanted, but that also gave you the opportunity to ask a lover for their sweater.

tonight, as you stared up at your ceiling, you pictured that your room was a cute little picnic date. you pictured that you and yeonjun ate cute little sandwiches together as you both watched various strangers pass by. you pictured that you and his relationship was ultimately more than it was.

yeonjun: your window’s still open, right?

the buzzing of your phone at such a late hour didn’t surprise you as much as it did before. you didn’t even have to check the contact name as you responded and tossed your phone back onto your nightstand, the device clanging against your stacked textbooks from your study session earlier. a sigh pushed through you.

you had been so hopelessly in love with yeonjun since you first laid eyes on him on campus—nonchalant attitude paired with his alternative clothing and headphones resting against his head that seeped out the rock music he was always listening to as he strode across the pavement. when his eyes met yours that day for the briefest of moments, you had to get to know him somehow.

you: you know it always is.

unfortunately for you, your social circles didn’t overlap in the slightest. yours consisted of studious students who were the top of their classes and who made sure that their assignments got turned in early. nerds, others would say, or perhaps geeks.

yeonjun’s on the other hand—his consisted of various alternative people. some in bold black and white makeup and black, frilly victorian style dresses, while others in tight, dark clothing and hair in their eyes that sported dyed colored stripes. all of them clad in black eyeliner that darkened their already tired looking eyes and listening to the same rock music he did.

he was rebellious and liked to break the rules while you abided by them. the hammering of loud drums and guitars soothed him while it was something you absolutely couldn’t stand. he was vulgar and spoke the first thing that came to his mind while you constantly overthought the polite answer you would give. yeonjun was night while you were day.

the two of you couldn’t have been more different.

but still, that didn’t stop you from being drawn to him. and that fateful day where you happened to run into him and drop all of your textbooks changed your relationship forever. never did you think your wide eyes and bumbling apologies would lead to you under him as your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders as your shared moans bounced off the walls of your room.

never did you expect him to ask you to keep it all a secret because he didn’t want his friends to know he was fucking the resident nerd.

you hear the familiar creaking of your window as yeonjun begins to open it and reach for your glasses in the mess on your nightstand. the blurriness of your room comes into focus right as yeonjun pokes his head through the window, effectively killing the daydream you were in. he pushes his bright orange hair off of his forehead as he steps through, finger tangling in the light blonde streaks within it.

“hey, babe,” yeonjun said as he swung his other leg over the ledge of the window. his black boots crumpled one of the discarded papers on your floor but he didn’t seem to notice as he shut the window behind him, locking the cold air out.

yeonjun turned towards you, already stripping out of his faded flannel. “that math test is already a bust. i literally couldn’t understand any of that shit. i don’t even know how i made the class… shocked that the professor hasn’t said anything to me about it yet.”

his cheeks were flushed from the cold and his dark brown eyeliner was smudged around his eyes as he stared down at your lying form. you pushed up on your elbows as you watched him take off the band t-shirt he was wearing. you stared at his bare upper-body with wide eyes and the corner of his mouth lifted as he kept talking.

you hated the way your heart fluttered and raced, hated the effect he had on you. you hated the way he smirked at you like he knew he had you wrapped around his pretty little finger. it was embarrassing.

you gulped as his eyes remained on yours as he slowed his fingers down to unbuckle the belt he was wearing. “you seem distracted…” yeonjun said, his voice mixed with amusement and slight teasing, “don’t tell me it was that hard! if you can’t do it, then there’s no way in hell i’m gonna.”

he kicked off his boots and moved closer to where you were on the bed. your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you stuttered out a response, “y-yeonjun… it’s late and we both have classes tomorrow… what are you doing here?”

in one swift motion he climbed over you, trapping your body underneath his. the tips of his dyed hair tickled your cheeks and the cold metal of his belt buckle against your lower stomach made you shiver. his mouth was at the shell of your ear as his whispered, “you know why i’m here.”

yeonjun pressed kisses down the side of your neck and along your jaw, stopping just before he reached your mouth. “besides, i wanted to see you.”

his hands trailed up your sides and under the thin fabric of the tank top you were wearing. before you knew it, it was over your head and you bare breasts were exposed fully for him. “i wanted to see the pretty flustered faces you make when i’m inside of you.”

cold fingers hooked onto the hem of your shorts, tugging down slowly. “and the way you try and avoid my eyes but can’t help but stare. can’t help but let those pretty moans escape your mouth,” yeonjun continued as his lips brushed against yours. he pulled your shorts and panties down until you were completely naked under him.

“you’ve been avoiding me.”

he pulled away completely and stood from your bed, his words hanging in the air. his eyes never left yours as he tugged his black jeans down.

your chest rose and fell heavily as your eyes trailed down to the obvious bulge in his boxers, the dim light of your bedside lamp making it more apparent. you shook your head as your eyes met his gaze once more, “i haven’t.”

you have been avoiding him. not purposely, but you guessed that it was to the extent that he noticed. when he would walk in your direction on campus you would go a different way to your class. you’d force yourself to not let your eyes linger on his retreating frame and instead focused on what the task was at hand.

it shocked you that he noticed, since he usually ignored your existence outside of these four walls. “it just… wouldn’t work…” he had told you once as you stayed curled up against his naked body one night. “we’re like two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards.”

“you have,” yeonjun stated, pulling down his boxers so he too was completely naked, spare the small skull necklace you had gifted him a couple months back. his large cock hit against his lower stomach, the precum dripping from the slit glittering in the dim lighting.

he returned back to his hovering position over you, heavy cock brushing against you and causing your legs to tighten slightly around his waist as arousal pooled at the pit of your stomach. the small skull necklace dangled above your face as his head tilted to the side and plump lips formed a tiny pout. “why?” yeonjun asked, voice lowered.

the tips of his fingers grazed along your hips and left goosebumps in it’s wake as he waited for your answer. your breath hitched in response. “i-it’s—school’s just been hectic…” you trailed. “finals are coming up.”

yeonjun’s head dipped to the crook of your neck. he hummed against the skin, causing you to shiver again. he dragged his nose up your jawline until his lips brushed against yours once more. “liar,” he whispered and then lowered his lips onto yours fully.

he kissed you slowly, yet his lips pressed onto yours roughly. yeonjun’s hands inched up your sides and stopped just below your breasts. he then pulled away just before the two of you struggled for air.

your glasses fell down your nose bridge and he adjusted them for you. “i’ll just have to fuck the answer out of you,” he concluded, his voice louder. his other hand dipping between your legs to collect the slick that formed at your core.

yeonjun spread the slickness all through your folds and throbbing clit, making your back arch off the mattress slightly as a small moan pushed between your lips. “or you could just tell me the truth…” he spoke, thumb rubbing your clit and sending waves of pleasure up your body.

your eyes squeezed shut, “that is t-the truth.”

“come on, baby. you don’t even believe that,” yeonjun responded, incredulous. he hummed again and grabbed his cock with the hand that was circling your clit, rubbing the reddened tip up and down your arousal. he used his other hand to hold down the lower half of your body.

how could you tell him the truth? it was clear that he wasn’t looking for a relationship with you that wasn’t purely physical—and a secret at that. even now, his words rang through your head: “we’re like two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards.”

the two of you didn’t even fit together.

you couldn’t possibly say that you were hopelessly in love with him. that you daydreamed scenarios where the two of you were together, really together. scenarios where you held his hand in public and where he wasn’t afraid to kiss you in front of his friends and anyone else who may be watching.

it was a pipe dream, and you knew it. you knew he knew it, too. and yet…

yet, you wished that maybe your thoughts would be proven wrong. maybe he would smile and say that he loved you too, that he wanted to be with you too. publically.

breath hitching, you said in a low whine, “i’ve been stressed.”

it wasn’t technically a lie, but it was still far from the truth. you just really didn’t want to ruin what the two of you already had going on. it would absolutely crush you, and you already looked at yeonjun like he hung the stars in the sky himself.

your hips rolled up towards his on their own and you dug your head into the pillow underneath you. “i’ve been avoiding everyone, not just you,” you continued.

yeonjun hummed again and you could tell that he still didn’t believe you, but would drop it for the time being. “then i’ll make you feel better.” his lips were on yours again, rough and full of desperate need just as he pushed himself inside you fully.

you broke away from him suddenly, crying out in a loud moan that yeonjun then cut off with his lips. his hand still pressed down on you as he thrusted into you again. he brought his free hand up to cup your face gently, all while you moaned into his mouth.

his pretty lips sucked dark marks onto your neck, claiming you as his as they trailed down to your breasts. the obscene sounds the two of you made together bounced off the walls and you were lucky that you lived alone in this small apartment.

“fuck, you’re so wet. does my cock in you feel good, sweetheart?” yeonjun asked and all you could do was nod as he fucked into you deeper. he nodded along with you, “yeah? you want more? you’re still stressed?”

whimpers fell from your lips as he kissed the love bites he just left. “w-want… more. please,” you begged.

yeonjun chuckled, pretty smile lighting up his features. he then moved the two of you so you were now straddling him as he laid on your bed. your eyes widened in shock. usually he had you pinned under him as he fucked you. never have he let you ride him before.

“ride me, baby?” yeonjun asked. “take all of your stress out on me.”

you inhaled sharply as you looked down at him, looked down at his length laying on his lower abdomen and wet with your arousal. you shook your head. there was no way you were gonna be able to ride him—at least not on your own.

he must’ve sensed your hesitance because he cupped your face and rubbed his thumb along your cheek. “you can do it. you’ve taken all of me before. don’t worry, i’ll help you.” yeonjun’s voice was low with reassurance and you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded.

“okay,” you shakily muttered.

yeonjun nodded again with you, “let me help you feel better.” his hands found your waist and pulled you towards him as he kissed you, melting your worries.

he pulled away and looked down between the both of you as he sat up more. he guided your hips up and reached down to prop his cock up for you. “sit on it,” yeonjun said.

your hands found his biceps and grabbed onto them tightly as you aligned yourself. slowly, your pussy sunk down on him inch by inch, wrapping around his length and filling you up so much that you felt like you could feel him in your chest. yeonjun let out a guttural moan as he fell back against your headboard. “good…” he whimpered out, trying his hardest to steady his breathing. his hands on your waist moved down to your hips as they tightened.

“good girl, just like that. see? i told you you could do it. fuck—“ yeonjun suddenly thrusted up into you, eyes rolling back slightly. “fuck, baby you feel so good,” he breathed out through a moan, “god, you drive me crazy.”

the corners of your mouth rose as you watched his reaction. you never gotten this clear of a view of his face and you were enjoying every moment of it. experimentally, you rolled your hips forward and immediately let out a loud moan. yeonjun’s fingers dug into your hips hard, “s-shit, keep doing that. gonna make me cum if you keep moving those pretty hips like that.”

he moved your hips for you as he stared at you through hooded lids, mouth open as more moans passed his lips. you bet your expression mirrored his as you moved your hips more, brows furrowing as shock waves of pleasure shot up through you.

you placed your hands flat on his bare chest as your hips moved faster. your head flew back as yeonjun kneaded your bouncing tits, thumbs rubbing over your perked nipples. “keep going,” he whined through labored breaths, thrusting his hips up against yours as you moved.

“jjunie, i’m gonna—“ you could barely finish your words as he thrusted up towards you and the rope in your stomach completely snapped. you fell backwards onto your hands, giving him a full view of your shaking body, glistening in the dim lamp light with a layer of sweat.

you tried to catch your breath as best you could as pleasure rippled throughout you and made your limbs feel like jelly. you wanted to help him too, so in a weak motion you used your hands behind your back to roll your hips again, using the last bit of strength to raise your hips as well as you dropped them back down on his throbbing cock.

the sound the two of your bodies made was completely lewd. cum dripped from out of you and around his cock and down his thick length. yeonjun watched the whole thing and you swear you saw the last resolve in him break as his mind completely fogged over. “my fucking god,” he half moaned, half muttered as he sat up completely. in one swift movement his tight grip held your hips and he fucked into you so deep and unrelenting that you saw new galaxies.

all you had was the weakening strength of your arms behind you to keep you afloat, and the more he fucked you, the more it wavered. “you drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” yeonjun sputtered between moans. “you and this pretty fucking pussy of yours, devouring my cock whole. all i can fucking think about these days.”

you barely heard anything yeonjun was saying with the ringing in your ears, you think that he barely heard himself, honestly. his mouth was stringing together incoherent words and praises between various curses as he fucked you deeper and deeper. your arms shook and so did your body not just from your rapidly numbing body, but also from the sheer force of his thrusts—so desperate and so sloppy as he chased his incoming release.

“t-too… m-much!” you cried, trying to catch his gaze through the tears forming in your eyes and your tits bouncing in your face. “can’t take a-anymore!”

yeonjun shushed you softly as his hands moved to your waist, his frenzied pace not stopping. he pressed you up against his chest and slammed his lips onto yours. “relax,” he whispered breathlessly between kisses as his body moved in sync with yours, “you can take it.”

he pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, moans falling from his parted lips as he released inside of you and filled you up impossibly more. your head fell to the crook of yeonjun’s neck as the two of you caught your breath in comfortable silence. after a couple minutes, yeonjun broke it and breathed, “good job, babygirl.”

yeonjun moved you onto your back, still deep inside of you. he pulled out slowly, the base of his cock covered in a white ring of cum as more of it poured out of you and down the curve of your ass. he watched it all with eager, hungry eyes.

“fuck… look at that,” yeonjun mumbled under his breath. he dragged his thumb along your cum covered folds, pushing some of it back inside you just to watch it pour out of you again. you jerked as your breath hitched and you tried to close your legs but yeonjun used his thighs and free hand to keep them open. “so pretty, makes me want to pump your pussy full of more of my cum,” he continued, louder this time.

he leaned down to greet your lips in a slow kiss, hands touching any part of your body that he could access. the two of you stayed like that for a while as you came down from your sex high, lips locked together. your hands were in his dyed hair, pulling at the tips as you whimpered softly. your core throbbed and you were filled with need once again.

yeonjun smiled against your lips. you had to give it to him, he knew your body well. a low hum came from the back of his throat and he pulled away. “it’s late,” he muttered before kissing your lips again and pulling away fully.

he disappeared for a moment and came back with a warm, wet towel to clean the two of you up. after he turned to pull his boxers back on as you laid under the covers naked. you watched as he started to pull on his black jeans, your heart racing with every tug. all you could think about was how you didn’t want him to go. how you didn’t want to go back to practically being strangers again.

suddenly the words are tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them, your head too clouded to think properly about the consequences your words may have. “listen… i—“

“don’t tell me you’re in love with me,” yeonjun joked in a teasing voice as he buckled his belt. your mouth clamped shut and heavy silence filled the room as yeonjun put his shirt and flannel back on. he paused once you didn’t say anything, turning to look at you from your window.

he hesitated before sighing and reaching down to put his boots back on. you tried to not let the tears fill your eyes in front of him as thick tension filled the air, opting to tug the blanket tighter around your body. “let’s not ruin a good thing, okay?” yeonjun said, lowly, avoiding your eyes.

yeonjun opened your window and the cold night air hit you full force, causing goosebumps to form along the parts of your skin that were exposed. the moonlight made the skull necklace around his neck sparkle. “i’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked as he turned to face you.

you hid your face from his view as you looked to the side just as the tear rolled down your cheek. you nodded, it was a solemn nod that you tried to mask. you moved your hand to fix your hair in a discreet way to wipe the tear away and looked at him with the biggest smile you could muster. it didn’t reach your eyes.

you could tell he didn’t buy it and that he wanted to say something about it, but you laid down before he could and focused your eyes on your ceiling. you heard his soft sigh and the window close after he stepped through it, effectively cutting off the cold air blowing into your room.

all at once it felt like the stars had come crashing down around you. no matter how hard you tried, it felt like you couldn’t get oxygen to your lungs and hot, blistering tears fell from your eyes. you heaved in breaths of air that did absolutely nothing.

sobs wracked your body that were so loud you were sure that yeonjun could hear them outside. they hit you like a tidal wave and the pressure of it all was making you drown. you clutched at your chest as you laid in a ball beneath the covers, gasping for air as you cried harder and harder.

how could you be so stupid? you knew the risk—knew that he didn’t feel that way about you and still you opened your big mouth. and for what? you wouldn’t be shocked if your relationship ended here. if you never saw yeonjun again and the two of you went back to being actual strangers, someone who you stared at from a distance.

you’d never see his face again. you’d never see his band tees and smudged eyeliner, never hear his loud rock music that gave you a headache, never feel his skin against yours—again. it was completely and utterly over, and it was all your fault. you felt sick to your stomach.

like a zombie, you rose from the grave that was your bed and numbly put your pajamas back on, feeling disgusted with yourself. you stripped your bed of the old sheets and covers and replaced them with new, clean ones. you shut off your bedside lamp as you fell apart in the darkness, more pained sobs forcing its way through your mouth.

you’d never see yeonjun again—not in the same dim light you once saw him in before.

∿ [ continue on to . . . part two , masterlist , taglist ] 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

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© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[moonchildstyles]

elan for halloween would be a dream♡ i can see her in the prettiest costume everrrrr and h just going along with everything, hearts in his eyes👼🏼🪽🦢maybe even a private moment together, in costumeeeee🤍

wordcount: 5.5k+

—————

"No, totally... For sure, it's going to be so much fun. Just text me when you get back to where you're staying... Yeah, I still have your location. Do you have mine?... Perfect, good. I'll text you later, but if you need anything just let me know... Love you, Fran." 

Harry watched on the end of (Y/N)'s bed as she spoke into her phone, hands wandering through her professionally tousled hair. While he was aware of what she was muttering to her best friend, not a single word processed when he had the distraction of her reflection in front of him. 

While he was getting a stellar view from behind her, the dressing gown she had draped over her shoulders hid the details of her halloween costume. This year, one of her three (three!) planned costumes was a Playboy Bunny. That was the bodysuit she had on tonight, complete with a puffed tail over her rear and a headband with bunny ears hanging off of her arm. The night's plans included making an appearance at a party thrown by a friend of a friend, the kind where her hair stylist was called and a makeup artist had been given the privilege of painting her face. 

She was left with big blown out hair, her face dewy and smooth with the prettiest blush dusting her cheeks. The pink flush was extra concentrated on the tip of her nose, giving the illusion of a bunny's nose without having to draw a button nose on her skin. Her lashes were long and fluttery, grazing her brow bone and brushing her cheekbones. Sparkling gloss had been swiped over her lips, playing against the shimmery white corset cinching her waist. In lieu of the traditional bowtie around her neck, she had a black choker tied around her throat with a tiny white bow stitched to the front. Her legs were silken smooth under a pair of sheer nude tights, leading to a classic pair of pointed black stilettos. Harry could already see her begging to carry her around so she wouldn't have to keep walking in those shoes. 

The champagne colored dressing gown draped over her form was only loosely tied at her waist, creating a deep V to show off stretches of her costume. It was hard for Harry to keep his focus when he looked at her. Her attention was miles far away from him, but he still felt drawn to her—unable to look away.

But, he reminded himself, he had to be on his best behavior for the night. He wasn't going out with her as her partner, dancing and drinking with her friends. He was going out with her as her bodyguard on duty, his sole purpose being to protect her to ensure she was safe amongst the throngs of almost-celebrities and paparazzi with blinding cameras. 

Though the real severe threats to (Y/N)'s well being had all but vanished once Damien had been removed from her vicinity (there were rumors he was relocated to Spain, the cover being that there was some internship with some artist he admired. Harry had a feeling Damien fled the second it reached him that (Y/N) knew and wasn't afraid of letting others know as well), there was always the worry of her walking into the lion's den that was the media. Especially at parties like these, where one drink would be exaggerated to chugging a whole keg, and photographers weren't afraid to push and pull for the ultimate shot. More than anything, he wanted to be there; to be a physical reminder that she wasn't alone and she had him on her side. 

"Right, right," (Y/N) muttered, rooting through the small purse she was taking with her for the night, "No, for sure. No, I'll text you... Okay, love you. Bye." 

Harry was surprised to see (Y/N) actually end the call given the fact that they'd said goodbye at least three prior times only to continue talking. Dropping her phone in her bag just as she found the lipgloss she'd been digging for, he watched as she took in a deep breath, breasts swelling over the balconette cut of her bodysuit. 

"Sorry," she sighed, meeting his eyes through the mirror with the applicator of her lipgloss dragging over her plush mouth, "I didn't think we'd talk that long." 

"'S alright," he murmured, forcing his gaze from the soft parts of her up to her eyes, "I figured you'd be talking for a while. I don't mind." 

Truthfully, this only gave him more and more time to get in all of his gazing and admiring and staring before he would have to be the consummate professional in public. He'd drink her in now in hopes of holding himself over until the early hours of the morning when they would finally be alone again. 

Rubbing her lips together to spread the gloss, (Y/N) pursed her lips with a pop. Harry had to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head as he watched. He forced himself to straighten his posture when she turned her gaze to his, no longer using the mirror as the middleman. 

"I wish you'd dress up with me tonight," she pouted, canting her head just right with the light catching her pinkened nose.

"I know," he sighed, standing up from where he'd been sat at her glamorous vanity. "Maybe another time—I've got to work tonight, remember?" 

She only rolled her eyes at him, a pinch of attitude twisting her features. "Sure, sure. Because someone's going to fight me in the middle of a night club."

Harry only looked at her with a deadpan look. She knew better than most just how easy it was for tensions to boil over in the dark like that, especially when alcohol was involved. He wasn't really in the mood to imagine her being the subject of a grainy cell phone video with someone attempting to pull her hair out or pour a drink over her head. 

"Fine, I know," she relented after only a moment of his silence, "I just think it would be cute if we were both bunnies or something. I'd even let you pick if you wanted something specific." 

He shook his head, his features finally cracking when he pulled her closer with an arm looped around her waist. "I just want whatever makes y'feel pretty. We'll match another time, but y'get to be the center of attention tonight." 

She softened immediately in his hold, reaching for him with the sleeves of the dressing gown sliding over her shimmering skin. "Okay. Thank you, H." 

Harry didn't bother with a response before he dipped his head down and pressed his lips to hers. The tip of his nose grazed the top of her own as he tasted the watermelon tint to her gloss. If it were up to him, he would continue this up until Sully arrived and they would be forced on their way, but he'd been in trouble one too many times to know that he wasn't going to get away with messing up her makeup before an event like this. 

Drawing away, the light caught a stray smudge of her gloss caught on the corner of her lip. With her face tipped up towards him like a flower looking for the sun, he used the pad of his thumb to lightly swipe away the offending smudge. He could feel the weight of her gaze on his face, tracing the planes and lingering on his lips, where he was sure  there was the mark of her kiss glistening in the low light. 

"I think I want to come home early tonight," (Y/N) whispered with Harry's thumb pausing just at the corner of her mouth. 

"Yeah?" he pressed, raising his brows as he looked down at her. Carefully, he maneuvered his arm around her waist until he was pulling the headband of bunny ears from the crook of her elbow. 

"Yeah," she breathed, no further explanation leaving her lips once Harry tipped her head back. 

He pushed the headband over her hair, leaving the volume of her hair to flare out just behind the massive ears now stationed on the top of her head. (Y/N) didn't move, only looking up at him.

"'M sure we can make that happen, sweet girl." 

Making the hard choice for the both of them, Harry unravelled his arms from around her and took a step back to allow clear air into their lungs. 

"Finish getting ready, and I'll let Sully know we're almost ready." 

With that, he exited her bedroom, knowing he would need a second to recuperate if either of them had a chance of acting normal for the night. He could feel (Y/N)'s eyes following him all the way out. 

—————

Harry shifted, adjusting his stance as his pants felt entirely too tight as he kept his eyes stitched to the Playboy Bunny across the room. 

It was criminal the way she was able to take all of the air out of his lungs when she was doing the most simple of things, when her attention was far from on him. Just dancing with her friends (and the hangers- on that would no doubt be posting about these interactions in the coming days) was enough to have him crossing his arms over his chest and clenching his jaw. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as she fluffed her hair, played with the bunny ears on her head with a grin aimed at her friends, and ran her hands over the curves of her body. 

He had forced himself into his work mindset before they'd gone out, just for those expectations to be cast aside. Of course, with his eyes on her, he was able to keep track of who was approaching her, and who was getting a touch too close, but that didn't mean that was his priority at the moment. He was too entranced with watching the way her hips moved, the swell of her breasts over the cups of her corset, the length of her legs in the silky tights. Every time the light shined just right over her face, and he caught the pink blush on her nose, he wondered how long he would have to kiss her until that blush became real. 

Photographs and videos were taken of her as she had fun, some where he was sure there could be a glimpse of him simmering in the background. He wondered if there would be any articles picking apart his body language. 

Despite how much fun she was having, Harry wanted to cling to her earlier request of heading home while the night was still young. Truthfully, he doubted he could make it much longer with just watching her. His hands were already fisted under his arms. 

A small smile touched the corner of his lips, cracking the stoic exterior, when he saw her twirl on the dance floor. She had her hands in her fluffed hair, and a bubbly smile on her features. He could just barely hear the melody of her laugh over the sound of the music and the volume of the chatter. The faint traces of her remaining lip gloss sparkled in the party lights, drawing his gaze to her mouth like a faithful spotlight. 

Harry barely saw the others in her circle playing along, dancing to the unfamiliar song thumping through the speakers. With the way (Y/N)'s body moved, the rolling of her hips, the way her breasts bounced against the tight corset, there was no way he was picking up on any details of the surroundings; no one could ask him the color of anything with the expectation of getting the right answer, not when (Y/N) was acting like this. 

Following the sparkles sprinkled over her décolletage, the ribbon around her throat and the delicate slope of her neck, Harry realized (Y/N) was looking at him when he matched her gaze. There was a sparkle there, one different than that of her makeup. A sly smile touched the very corners of her mouth. 

He'd been caught, but Harry didn't dare to look away from her. 

Watching as she excused herself from her friends, looking for only a moment over her shoulder before she threaded through the crowd. Heading directly towards him. Harry shifted in his spot on the edge of the crowd, stationed near the table that had been reserved exclusively for her and the attention she would draw to this party.

Aware of the cameras that could easily capture them, both professional and amateur, (Y/N) didn't draw too near, but the heat she brought with her was enough to tickle along his skin. 

"Hey, you," she greeted, a flirtatious undertone to the words. Her smile was a touch too bright to be only casual.

"Hi," he answered, dipping his chin in an attempt to level with her eyes, "Y'come here often?"

 A peal of laughter spilled from her, (Y/N) leaning forward as if he said the funniest joke she'd ever heard. "You're so annoying," she shook her head though she held no real grit in her voice. She recovered with her lips in a curl as she canted her head. "Are you having fun at least? You haven't even moved from here all night. 

"'M having fun watching you have fun," he clarified, "How are y'feeling?" 

"I'm good," she sang, her features staying rounded and innocuous despite the way her eyes dropped from his, to the pillows of his lips. There, the glittery lids grew heavy, hooding her irises. "I think I might be ready to go home, though." 

"Yeah?" Harry pressed, his voice suddenly deeper. Enough so that (Y/N) took the risk and leaned closer. 

"Yeah," she affirmed, nibbling at her lip, "I promised you I would let us get home early tonight, remember?" 

"But, if you're having fun, we don't have to go yet, love. I can wait for you."

 "I can't." 

It was the way that she met his eyes, gaze clear and heavy, that had a pump of blood rushing through his system and bruising his ribs. 

"Say bye to your friends, I'll call Sully." 

When she tossed a bright smile in his direction, sparkling gaze trained on him, Harry saw a camera trained in their direction to capture the moment. 

That was a photo he hoped would resurface at some point.

—————

"Have a goodnight, kids. I'll see you in the morning, Miss (Y/N)." 

With (Y/N)'s hand still tucked into Harry's elbow, a light jacket draped over her shoulders, she looked to Sully over her shoulder. "See you in the morning," she called.

Her steps never slowed, Harry keeping up with her while he bit back a smile. She definitely wasn't lying when she said she could wait. 

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, he pushed open the door to her building, allowing her to step inside first. The sound of her heels clicking over the glossy floor matched the ticking of his heart. He faithfully followed her towards the elevator, tossing a polite smile to the lobby attendant for the both of them. 

It wasn't until they were safe behind the gleaming doors of the elevator, only the mirrored walls and orchestrational music keeping them company, that (Y/N) broke. 

Swirling to stand before him, with her heels assisting her height, she tugged Harry down with her arms looped around his neck. As soon as she was close enough, she pressed her lips to his in a messy smear. The tip of their noses mashed together before Harry was able to tilt his head. He could feel the remnants of her lip gloss, the soft heat of her kiss, the creases that matched up with his so perfectly. Parting his lips just enough, he slipped the tip of his tongue across the plush of her own mouth, getting a taste of the few sips of alcoholic lemonade she had at the beginning of the evening. 

A breathy sigh fanned across his kiss when she opened her own mouth. Her tongue played along with his, getting a taste of him just as teasingly as he did for her. He clutched at her hips, finally getting more than a passing graze of the silken fabric that held tight over her body. The high leg cut of the bodysuit allowed him to feel glimpses of her bare skin through the tights pulled over her legs. 

He wondered how long he would be able to keep her in this outfit before he was forced to tear it off of her. 

Just as she chanced a hike of her leg over his thigh, the elevator dinged over their heads. it was Harry that pulled away first, looking over (Y/N)'s shoulder to see her penthouse level being highlighted. 

"I'll follow you, sweet girl," Harry murmured, forcing himself to turn her body away from his and towards the opening doors. 

She blinked herself back to the real world, clutching Harry's hand in her own before taking them down the hallway. It felt like an eternity as she dug through for the key to her door, long enough for him to skate his eyes down her form and over the exposed curve of her ass from the cut of the costume. He felt his pants tighten, his cock stirring at the sight. 

As soon as she was able, she tugged him into her apartment after her. It was Harry that had the wherewithal to lock the door after them, only getting through the twisting motion for a second before she was pulling him away. 

"We'll do that later. You're not my bodyguard tonight, just my boyfriend," she insisted, taking him to the couch with her. 

A lopsided grin took over his mouth, going along with her as she urged him to take a seat on the plush sofa. "I thought y'liked that I protect you? What happened to that, sweet girl?" 

"I do," she countered, taking a seat on his lap with her hands landing on the broad of his shoulders, "But I just want you to fuck me right now—not bodyguard me." 

Harry felt a pulse of heat race through his system. He didn't think before he smeared his lips across hers, decidedly messier and harsher than the kiss they shared in the elevator. 

She relented to his strength, clutching at his shoulders while he clutched at her waist. The boning of her corset was stiff under his hands, keeping her back arched as she leant into him. His palms skated over her form as she moaned into his mouth, the slick press and pull of their mouths filling the quiet of her apartment.

The ties of her corset slipped against his fingers just before he ran its other cotton fluff of her bunny tail. He couldn't help but to tug on it, hoping she could feel just how much he enjoyed her costume. The roll of her hips she gave in response was the right answer. 

A whining moan rang from her throat then, the thin covering between her legs providing no cushion against the bulge of his cock underneath her core. She pulled away with her chest heaving against his, leaving Harry to drag his lips down the line of her jaw and down the curve of her neck. 

He hoped her makeup artist for the next Halloween party wouldn't mind using a few extra minutes to cover whatever marks he left over tonight. 

Harry gently nipped at the soft skin of her throat, his tongue soothing that same area within the same breath. He sucked and bit, feeling the skin heat under his mouth. (Y/N) fisted his shirt, her manicured nails behind felt through the material. The light scratch against his skin was enough to have his hips bucking up to hers, meeting her soft core in a shallow thrust. 

"Harry," she breathed, his name said like a prayer in a delicate voice. "I don't want to wait." 

He only shushed her as he dotted kisses down her neck once he was satisfied with the love bite he left behind on her throat. She might not want to wait, but he was more than happy taking a bit of extra time with his mouth on her. 

Once he reached the swell of her breasts, he brought a hand up from her rear to the flexible cups of her corset. It didn't take much force to fold it down and expose her peaking nipple. He took the bud between his lips, sucking it against his tongue. The scraping of his teeth had goosebumps sparking over her skin, her nipple hardening against the buds of his tongue. 

Her hands on his shoulders shifted upwards into the baby curls on the back of his neck, fingers sliding amongst the waves. It was his turn to let out a strangled moan as he moved to press his lips to her other breast, spurring (Y/N) on to tug at the roots of his hair just enough to send a zip over the knobs of his spine. 

Wrapping an arm around her back, he pressed her closer to his mouth, muffling his moan as he laved his tongue over her breast. The only movement she could make over his lap was to sit on his thighs, pressing her core headily against his cock. 

He could feel the way his cock twitched when he imagined the heat that was waiting for him, the tight channel he was going to squeeze the head into. 

God, could he really wait much longer? 

Pulling away from her chest with a pop, his lips swollen and slick with saliva, Harry looked up at her with darkened eyes. She looked devastating, eyes glossy with thick lashes, her bunny-pink nose and lips agape, tongue tasting of his name. 

"Harry?"

He pressed a hard kiss to her waiting mouth. "Want m'help with your costume?" 

"I've got it," she rushed out, stumbling from his lap as she blindly reached for the ties of her corset. 

It only took a moment of watching her unable to reach the right ties, that Harry let out a breathy laugh. He spun her with his hands on her hips, presenting him with the view of her back with her bunny tail at his face. He couldn't help but to plant a kiss on the small of her back, an act that had a small giggle sounding from his girl. 

Harry worked gently and methodically as he undid the ties of her costume. He brushed the bare skin of her back as he worked his fingers under the ribbons, the boning loosening with every pull. Soon enough the entire ensemble was pushed down her hips and left in a puddle at her feet. (Y/N) took in a deep breath, looking over her shoulder at where he sat with spread legs on the couch. 

"Ears or no ears?" she asked, referring to the headband pinned to her hair. 

"Ears," he answered definitively. 

A sly sight colored her lusted features. "Okay." 

She had to have been putting on a show with the slow pace she rolled down her tights. (Y/N) slowly bent at the hips as she needed, her ass in Harry's face with the puffy lips of her pussy on display the deeper she bent. He could already see the way her slit was glistening for him. She hadn't been lying when she said she wasn't interested in waiting. 

It was a bit selfish, he thought, leaving her to do the hard work of undressing while reaching down to the bulge in his lap. But, he wasn't one to say no to a show, especially not one as pretty as this. 

Undoing the fastenings of his trousers, Harry pushed the band of his briefs down his thighs. The ruddy head was already smeared with precum, enough that allowed him to glaze down the rest of his length as he fisted over himself. There was no doubt (Y/N) heard the slick sound that rang through the apartment; especially not when she looked at him over her shoulder, her ass in his face and bunny ears on her head. 

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, eyes darkened. 

Her movements became a bit clumsy then, leaving the rest of his dressing to be left on the floor in record time. But, before she had a chance to climb back on his lap, Harry caged his free arm around her waist from behind. She let out a gasp, grabbing for his forearm that curled around his middle. 

Harry tugged her down to sit on his lap, her back to his chest with the warmth of her pussy pressed right against the base of his cock. A full moan fell from her lips, (Y/N) throwing her head back to be laid against his shoulder.

"Alright with this?" he asked, referring to both the way he was taking her from behind and the fact she was naked while not a single article of his own clothing had been discarded. 

"Uh-huh," she nodded absently, turning her head until she was snuggling against the column of his throat. "As long as you still kiss me." 

An affection curl took over his mouth. "'M sure we can manage," he mused, "Budge up for me, love." 

Lifting her hips while Harry's arm was still barred around her middle, he fisted his cock in his palm. With the way she hovered just above him, he was able to skim the head of his cock along her slick folds, smearing his precum around her core. 

"Let me know if y'want me to stop or slow down," he murmured to her, something he told her every time she allowed him the privilege of settling between her thighs. 

"Stop body guarding me, I'm f—" 

Her chiding was cut off when Harry pushed his hips upwards, splitting her open with the head of his cock. A garbled call of his name bubbled out of her, the kind of thing that she attempted to bite back but still made it way out. He pulled her down onto his lap, bottoming out through her slick walls. A pleasured sigh heaved from his chest. 

Harry bucked up into her, driving himself that much deeper, pushing his balls against her budding clit. Her breathing was shaky. 

(Y/N )'s legs were spread wide around his own parted knees, leaving her open for him to begin bucking up into. She made the sweetest noises, the kind that told him he was hitting the deepest parts of her she had once told him had never been reached before him. He didn't have to see her to know that her eyes were fluttering to a close, nose pinched as she fought to keep her cool 

Slick noises filtered through the space, her walls pulsing around him, attempting to suck him deeper though he was barely even pulling out at the beginning of each thrust. 

"I-I wanna help," she whined, digging her fingers into the cage of his arm. 

"Yeah?" he breathed, smearing a kiss to the dip of her shoulder, "Go ahead and help me, sweetheart." 

He always thought it was quite cute that she wanted to help him when she was on top, despite how much he could tell she enjoyed just being bounced on his lap. His sweet girl, right to her core.

Slowing his bucks to gentle rolls of his hips, Harry allowed her to shift over his lap. Moving until she was straddling his pelvis, knees brought up to dig into the cushions of her sofa. She was spread wide open for him to reach around and graze her clit, the leverage of her knees on the couch allowing her to lift off of his cock until only the head was still tucked inside before dropping back down. 

"Oh—Harry," she cried, arching her back with her bunny ears going lopsided. 

With the enticing curve of her back, Harry's eyes were led right to the rounded curve of her ass. As she established her pace, the plush flesh slapped back against his lap. He couldn't take his eyes off, leaning back to watch the feast that was her body as she rode him. 

Around her waist, his hand wrapped around her front dropped low until he met the top of her slit. He could feel the way his cock was splitting her open, a grazing that had his mouth falling open. His fingertips met her wet clit, the first touch being enough to have (Y/N) stumbling in her pace. 

"Harry, oh my god." 

That was all he needed to hear before he was circling her clit harder, the pads of his fingers unrelenting. "I've got y'sweet girl. Gonna cum for me?" 

"A-Are you?" 

"Want me to cum with you, sweetheart?" he choked out through gritted teeth. As much as playing with her clit was for her, the shocks felt through her body with the pulsing walls and squeezing thighs, that was for him. 

"Uh-huh," she moaned out, her fluffed hair in a mess, "In-Inside." 

It was his turn to let out a string of curses. With his free hand, Harry cuffed his hand around her neck, pulling her flush against his chest. Keeping true to her request, he pressed his lips to hers in a messy kiss; he was barely on center, teeth and tongues playing against one another. (Y/N)'s moans slipped through into his mouth, sweet and sugary. 

There was no way he wouldn't be able to follow through on her request. Not when she was asking him to cum inside her, where her walls pulled and squeezed around him. She was snug, unwilling to let go of him, even when it was only for a moment with the rolls of her hips. 

A frayed knot came to fruition in his stomach. It wasn't strong, but it was tight—the kind that would only crumble under pressure. And his pressure was calling his team in ecstasy, requesting him to cum inside of her with her wet pussy doing all the extra convincing. 

"I want you to finish first," he breathed against her mouth, "My bunny goes first." 

She wanted to smile, that much he could tell with the twitch of her lips, but there was too much on her mind to record the bubbling feeling over his teasing. Instead, a pinch formed between her brows, Harry's fingers over her clit doing that much more to draw her to the edge. 

It all happened so quickly. At one moment, she was fluttering her lashes closed with her lips parted, and the next she was pulling away from his kiss with her head thrown back to his shoulder. 

(Y/N) grew impossibly wet around him, her walls that much tighter. The pace of her hips dropped until she was making only shaky rolls, toes curling on either side of his thighs. A breathless moan fell from her lips, her kiss-swollen lips parted. 

All it took for Harry after feeling her pleasure and feeling the way every part of her body attempted to clung to him, was seeing the bunny-pink blush on her nose. Then he was summing. 

He felt the way his cock throbbed just before ropes of his cum spurted from his tip. He was buried deep inside her, his release painting across the ridges of her walls. (Y/N) could feel the warmth, the pressure, he could tell with the way she clenched around him, both inside and out. 

Keeping her flush to him, Harry wondered if they were in the same universe then. Were their heads filled with the same clouds? The thought had him holding her that much tighter. 

Coming back down to earth came faster for (Y/N), leaving her to start spreading kisses along the side of his face. 

"Harry," she murmured, breathless and tired, "Harry, I love you." 

A small smile curled his lips, his eyes still closed as she felt another aftershock rock his body. "I love you, too." 

His first act back on the material plane came in the form of turning her face to give her a proper kiss. The urgency had been drained from his body (literally), leaving him with only affection for his sweet girl. 

He slumped back against the couch cushion, keeping her with him as she went lax. 

"Can I stay here for a minute?" she murmured, her words holding a drawl. 

Harry spoke through his smile, "Few more minutes, sweetheart. Then we'll get ready for bed, ‘kay?" 

"'Kay," (Y/N) replied, though they both knew that he wasn't going to have the heart to make her get up until she was ready. 

Moving cautiously, Harry pulled the throw blanket draped over the back of the sofa. He wrapped it around (Y/N)'s nude body, covering her before the chill of the room could eat at the bliss in her system. 

Silence settled over them, Harry running a comforting circuit with his hand over her hip, the other hugging her around the waist. He closed his eyes when he swore he could feel the rhythm of her heartbeat—a grounding baseline. 

Yeah, there was no way he was moving from this spot unless forced to do so.

"Harry?" 

"Hm?" he hummed, pressing an absent kiss just to the side of her bunny ears. 

"So," she started, amusement beginning to echo in her tone, "Bunny?" 

Harry shook his head, biting back a smile as he held her that much tighter. "We're not getting into this tonight." 

(Y/N) only laughed. 

—————

[jarofstyles]

3:33

Helloooo and happy spooky season. I finally have something scary-ish to put up for you guys

This is a Demon!H fic, which means he is not following all the same morals as most humans have. He is manipulative and kinda fucked in the head but he is obsessed with Y/N.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 6k

Warnings- demon!H, manipulation, allusions to stalking behavior, supernatural elements, spitting, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play, choking, impact play (spanking), slight corruption vibes, selling your soul, etc etc etc

She sat in the dark, waiting for him.

He came every night. It was like clockwork, time ticking away with each beat of the moving hands, little ticks thrumming louder until it matched her pulse. Sitting under the fluffy duvet, she felt the familiar fear trickling down her spine- but the excitement was beginning to outshine the cool flush that he originally brought in.

As humiliating as it may be to admit to anyone else, she chose the babydoll she dressed her body in for him. A soft satin with lace cups to caress her breasts, a creamy color complimenting her deeply. Her cheeks felt hot as she sat with her legs criss crossed, fiddling with the hair tossed over her shoulder as her eyes looked towards the clock.

3:32. It was almost time. One minute.

The first time he had come, she had tried to scream but he took that ability from her. The man wasn’t human. His eyes devoid of color, his smile haunting but beautiful, she had frozen as she laid in her bed with sweat trickling down her neck and tears lacing her waterline. And all he’d done was caress her cheek. Laugh at her. Tell her he’d come back next time, and when he did, she shouldn’t be so loud- screeching annoyed him. 

So she did.

Harry. Harry. Harry. That was his name. He’d known hers, but he didn’t tell her how. He was a demon, he said. He knew all he wanted to know about her. He was always watching.

3:33. Her spine stiffened as she felt the room heat up significantly as the door to her closet moved.

 He was here.

Harry stepped out of the shadows, his form shimmering into sight with an almost unnoticeable ripple. His eyes were on her, watching as her breath hitched and her hands tightened on the soft fabric of the blankets. She looked good, dressed up like that. So innocent, so pure. Such a pretty thing for a human. It’s what drew him to her, the poor thing. Such an unfortunate curse for a human, to capture the unwavering attention of a demonic man. Her kindness, her weakness for all things soft and small. She was a good person, and had a good heart. And it only served to make him want to dirty her up. Take all of that for himself.

He approached the bed, his steps silent as he stalked towards her like a predator. His eyes never left hers, watching as her pupils dilated with fear and something else. Excitement. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath hitching each time he took a step closer. He could see the pulse in her neck fluttering wildly, and he felt an almost irresistible urge to lean down and sink his teeth into her flesh. To mark her.

His fingers curled around the footboard of her bed, knuckles turning white as he fought to control himself. His nails, sharp and black like obsidian, dug into the wood, leaving deep marks as he dragged them down. His own chest heaved, the white dress shirt unbuttoned to reveal his pale, muscled chest. Each breath pulled the fabric taut.

It was silent between them for a moment. Just observation. Monster and human, watching one another in curiosity. He felt increasingly drawn to the woman by the day, and she found herself wishing for his presence at night. Getting restless until he came to her. Just as he’d hoped. This time, though, he let her be the one to break the silence.

“Hi.” She whispered, licking her dry lip as her hands fisted the duvet in her lap. What more could be said in the moment? He usually led the conversation, he was the one who seemed to know more about her, but the interest of her own had been raised. Building day by day, bubbling under her skin.

Harry’s lips twitched as he watched her. His eyes flickered down to her lips, watching as her pink tongue darted out to lick the plump bottom one. He could see her pulse fluttering in her neck, the delicate hollow of her throat bobbing as she swallowed nervously. Her fear was so delicious. The most pure sort of fear, one he wanted to have on tap.

“Hello, Angel.” He finally responded, his voice like velvet. A deep, rich rumble that seemed to reverberate through the very room itself. His tongue darted out, licking over his teeth as he watched her. “I do like the outfit choice. Very much.” His eyes roamed down the length of her, appreciating the way the lace cups held her breasts. “A little too much, if I’m being honest. Did you pick it for me?”

Y/N knew she couldn’t lie to him. She didn’t have much of a choice. It was impossible to, not when he was around- and she had tried. He’d managed to undo a lot of layers in her.

“Yes.” She confirmed with a nod. “I-I… I’m not positive why.” It was the truth, too. Her mind was slightly confused. She knew she was attracted to him, that she had come to find him to haunt her dreams in the most filthy and inappropriate way when she went to sleep, but she wasn’t the most outgoing when it came to being seductive. and certainly not with a man who wasn’t human. She had no idea what indulging what got herself into, and yet she felt the overwhelming pull to do so.

Harry grinned wide, his teeth sharp as he stepped closer to her on the bed. “Oh, I think you know. You’re just a little afraid to admit it to yourself, that’s all.” His hand came up, long fingers curling around her chin as he tilted her head back to look up at him. “You’re attracted to me, Angel. You want me.” His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, pushing gently until her mouth parted slightly. “Say it.”

His eyes bore into hers, unblinking and intense. His touch was firm. Unyielding. He wouldn’t back down until she gave him what he wanted. His thumb pushed a little further into her mouth, pressing against her teeth. “I know that we’ve been having our nightly visits and you sit with those deer like eyes and stare up at me, less afraid and more excited each time I step up to your bed. You lean into my touch. A sweet little human like you, it’s unheard of really.” It’s part of the fun. Harry loved that bit of it. Her confusion over it and yet she gave into the innermost desires. “Why don’t you push those blankets off, sit up on your knees.”

“Keep your eyes on mine the whole time, understand?” His voice was deep and smooth, but there was an undercurrent of demand that left no room for argument. He released his fingers from her mouth and stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers as he waited for her to follow his instructions. Once she did, he stood in front of her with a hint of a smile. Just a little bit, his lip tilted up with a smidgen of dimple showing as he slid his knuckles over her jawline and down to her thundering pulse. “There. You follow directions well, mm?”

He continued his exploration down, finding the straps of the babydoll she’d put on in his honor. “And this… Did you put this on to tempt me?” He sucked his teeth for a second, pulling on the elastic and letting it snap back into place. “Or what, little angel? What’s the purpose?”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as he touched her, his knuckles rough against her skin. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, even standing this close to him. Her heart pounded in her chest, echoing in her ears as she did as he asked, keeping her eyes locked on his. She felt a shiver run down her spine as he cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing over her lip. "I-I..." She stammered, her words catching in her throat as he touched her. His voice was so commanding, so sure of himself. It was both intimidating and exhilarating. Y/N could feel the traitorous heat spreading through her body, settling between her legs. "I... I put it on because I thought you'd like it." She admitted, her voice hesitant. "I don't know why..." She trailed off, shaking her head slightly. What had she expected? 

Harry’s smile widened, revealing more of his teeth. “You don’t know why… or you don’t want to admit it to yourself? C’mon, sweetheart. We’ve been over it.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “Because I think you do. I think you want me to like it. Want me to touch you… Want me to fuck you…” His hand moved from her jaw to the strap of her babydoll, pulling it down her shoulder. 

“I think you’ve been having dreams about me stroking your skin, licking all over you, getting deeper inside that sopping cunt than any of those pathetic men that keep trying to ask you on dates at your job could ever do. I think that it’s ironic that since I’ve revealed myself to you, you’ve barely been giving any man the time of day. And yet…” He dragged down the other strap, letting his nail drag against her fragile skin. “You put on the sweetest scented lotions for me. You do your hair nice and pretty, you make your skin so fucking soft… because you want me to touch you. You put on little outfits you want me to take off.” It made him chuckle under his breath, the entire demeanor of him towering over her slightly terrifying and fully exhilarating. Arousing, almost. “It’s so cute, it’s pathetic.”

Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned in close, his voice dropping to that gravelly whisper. She felt her body tense as he spoke, her heart pounding harder in her chest. He was so forward, so crude. And yet… it sent a jolt of heat between her legs. She could feel her body reacting to his words, her panties damp and her peaked nipples straining against the satin of her babydoll.

Harry’s hand moved from her shoulder to her breast, cupping it firmly in his palm. He could feel the hard bud of her nipple pressing against his skin. He broke away from her gaze, looking down at the mounds of flesh spilling out of the top of her nightgown. “Look at that… so eager for my touch.” He chuckled darkly, his thumb rubbing over the peak of her nipple through the fabric. “Do you want me to touch you, pretty human? As lovely as it is to have you speechless, I need you to open that mouth and start talking.”

He continued to rub over her, his touch making her melt. So unusual, like she’s been dipped in thick, warm water. Y/N could feel her body responding, her breath coming in short gasps as pleasure coursed through her. She bit her lip, struggling to find the words he wanted to hear. "Y-yes..." She finally managed to whisper, her voice barely audible as she managed to get it out of her throat. "I want you to touch me." She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I want you to do... everything you said."

Harry’s grin was wicked as he listened to her speak. “Good girl. That’s what I wanted to hear.” He murmured, his hand moving from her breast to the hem of her nightgown. He slowly began to pull it up, his knuckles brushing against her stomach and sides. “Now… let’s see what you’ve got hidden beneath this.” As the fabric reached her ribs, he paused, looking down at her body. “You know, I’ve been wondering what you’d feel like. I hadn’t anticipated your desperation. Most humans stay terrified, like the first time I revealed myself to you. Their hearts pounding and their blood feeling like ice. But I knew you’d be different.”

 His fingertips were hot as they caressed her stomach, the other hand lightly brushed the hair from her shoulder. “So sweet, yet so brave. Got a monster in your room, n’yet here you go… dressing up for him. Getting all slick between the thighs for him.”

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly dragged her nightgown up until it was bunched around her waist, exposing her lower half to him. Her breathing grew shallow as she felt the cool air brush against her bare skin. His fingers slowly traced up her thighs, gently parting her legs further.  “Look at that.” Her body was beautiful. “See? You’ve got such an angelic body, and you want me to do such filthy, nasty, depraved things to it.” He clicked his tongue, watching her shiver. “I can smell how wet you are, little thing. S’pathetic. Sweet little angel, dripping all over those pretty panties you chose for your demon t’see you in. Ought t’just leave you here to take care of yourself.”

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as his fingers danced up her thighs, parting her legs further. A soft moan escaped her lips as a rush of heat pooled between her thighs. Her breath hitched in her throat as he spoke, his words sending shivers down her spine. She could feel her face growing hot, embarrassment mixing with arousal. "No!" she squeaked, her voice pitched as her eyes widened up at him. The idea of him leaving her like this was the last thing she wanted to happen. "Please, don't leave me like this..."

Harry chuckled darkly, enjoying the way her desperation made her voice quiver. “Like what, pretty human? All hot and bothered, with no relief in sight? Aching to be touched, toyed with, filled? All because of little old me?” His fingers continued to trace patterns on her skin, coming agonizingly close to where she needed them most but never quite touching.

Without warning, a hand tangled in her hair, pulling to arch her head back. The little gasp fueled him, the desperation in the human’s face almost humorous at this point. It hurt her a little, the grip, but he could smell that she liked it. “I thought you were this sweet little thing when I first saw you. Picking those flowers in the garden to bring to your neighbor, baking things to bring to nurses, walking those little animals at the shelter, offering directions to people you barely knew.” Her humid cunt was so close to his fingers but he only slightly brushed over the damp fabric with his knuckles. “I knew that there had to be something wrong with you. Jus’ didn’t think it would be that you’d get wet for a monster like me.”

He leaned down, his voice a dark growl in her ear. “But now I see it. You’re not just some sweet little thing. You’re a nasty, desperate little slut, aren’t you? All dressed up in your pretty panties and nightgown, just waiting for me to come and fuck you.” His tongue darted out, licking the shell of her ear. “And I will fuck you, pretty human.”

His breath was hot against her ear as he spoke, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Let me tell you what I’m gonna do.” His hand released her hair, instead tracing down her neck, between her breasts, and down her stomach. “I’m gonna tear these pretty little things you’ve got on to shreds, and then…” His fingers hooked under the hem of her damp underwear, pulling it tight against her before snapping it. “M’gonna make sure that tight little cunt is nice n’thoroughly soaked so it takes my cock a bit easier. I’m not the patient type when it comes to this sort of thing.”

He leaned down and captured her lips in a brutal, dominating kiss. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, claiming her as his. The demon bit her lower lip, making it bleed just slightly, before sucking on it and letting go with a pop. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he growled against her mouth, before kissing her again, harder this time. His hand gripped her face, holding her still for his kiss, his thumb digging into her cheeks.

As his kiss deepened, his hand snaked down between her thighs once more. His thumb found her swollen nub and began to rub slow, firm circles around it. She gasped into his mouth, her hips bucking against his hand. He chuckled against her lips, his grip tightening on her face to keep her in place. "Shh, little thing," he whispered against her mouth, his voice dark and mocking. "This is just the beginning."

His touch became more insistent, his thumb rubbing her fast and hard, like he knew she liked it. He broke the kiss to watch her face as he kept her head back, mouth open for him to do as he pleased. His other hand gripped her jaw, forcing her to keep her face tilted up towards him. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice low. "Look at me while I touch you- keep that mouth open."

"Good girl." he praised, as she whimpered, her breath hitching as he sped up his pace. Without warning, he spit into her open mouth, watching as she tried to swallow it reflexively. "Mmm, that’s it. Swallow it all down." He leaned in, his tongue darting in to lick up what was left of his saliva from the corners of her lips. "You’d let me do anything I wanted to, wouldn’t you?”

His voice was laced with dark amusement as he continued to rub her swollen clit, feeling her grow even wetter from his treatment. Poor little thing really needed a proper fuck, and no human would be able to give it to her. "Answer me, pretty human. You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you?" His grip on her jaw tightened, his thumb pressing down hard on her chin, making her open her mouth wider. "Nod if you'll be a good little toy for me."

She nodded eagerly, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before flying back open to meet his gaze. He grinned wickedly, his hand moving faster, his touch firmer. "Good girl. You'll take whatever I give you, won't you?" He leaned down, his hot breath washing over her face. "You'll take my fingers, my thick tongue, my cock, my spit... " He paused, his eyes glinting mischievously. “My cum.”

Y/n let out a high-pitched whine, her body shaking slightly as he spoke. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, she nodded frantically, her hands clenching into fists at her sides as she tried to hold herself together. "Uh-huh.” The feeling was almost trance like as she rocked her hips against his hand, his dark eyes boring into her own as she felt her own lull from the heat of pleasure simmering in her lower stomach. The grip he had on her left no room for argument but she didn’t want to. As long as he didn’t stop, she was happy.

He knew he had her right where he wanted her. She was so close now, her face prickled with sweat, her breath coming in short pants. He could see the desperation in her eyes, the plea for release. But he wasn’t ready to give it to her just yet. He slowed his touch, his thumb barely brushing over her swollen bud. "Not yet, little thing," he murmured, his voice mockingly gentle. “Lay back and spread your legs. Let me see that cunt.”

Y/n hesitated for a moment, his words making her feel exposed and vulnerable, but the need for release was too great. She slowly laid back, spreading her legs wide apart as he demanded. He let out a low whistle, his gaze raking over her dripping pussy. "Fuck, you're soaked," he said, his voice filled with appreciation. He reached out, his fingers dipping into her folds, spreading her open even wider. "Shouldn’t have waited this long. If I’d known you were gagging for it like this... Well, I’d have bent you over a few nights ago."

He leaned down between her thighs, his hot breath washing over her wet slit. Fucking finally. As delicious as her fear had been at first, he preferred this. Seeing her spread out and so desperate for him that she was near tears. She squirmed, her hips lifting off the bed, inviting him in- and that’s all the push he needed. He grinned against her, his hands gripping her thighs and pushing them back even further. "Greedy little thing, you’ll get what I give you." he chuckled darkly, his tongue snaking out to lap at her. She cried out, her back arching, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her.

He licked her slowly, his tongue flat against her pussy, lapping up her juices. She tasted so fucking good, he could eat her out all night- but he had other plans. He focused on her clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue, feeling it swell under his touch. "Harry- Sir.." She whimpered, her hands finding their way to his hair, gripping it tightly. Maybe she shouldn’t be touching a demon so liberally but she wasn’t thinking about anything other than the pleasure building up in her stomach. "Please, please... I need t’cum."

He hummed against her, the vibrations sending shivers through her entire body. He could feel her nearing the edge, her breath hitching, her grip on his hair tightening. He pulled back at the last second, smiling cruelly when she let out a frustrated cry. "Not yet." he chided, his hands gripping her thighs and flipping her onto her stomach. He pushed her upper body down into the mattress, lifting her hips up to meet him. “You’d think that such a nice girl would have better manners. Follow instructions, little human. Your orgasm belongs to me. I say when it happens.” His hand came down rough against her ass, making her jolt.

He brought his hand down again, the sound of his palm meeting her soft flesh filling the room. Y/N whimpered, her face burying into the sheets, her back arching as she tried to meet each smack of his hand. Despite the stinging pain, her body still yearned for release. She could feel her juices sliding down her thighs, her body tensing with anticipation as she waited for him to touch her again. Any touch, anything the demon gave her was something she was hungry for. 

“Fuck. Look at you.” He was genuinely impressed at how well she took it, how much she liked it. The woman was dripping, soaking fucking wet, and it was all because of him. His ego was plenty big, but it only served to swell it further. “Such a slut.” His voice dropped low. “I think you’re plenty wet to take my cock now, considering you can’t sit still for a second.”

He crawled up her body, his weight pressing down on her back as he leaned over her body, one hand between them slipping his cock over her slick cunt. His hips lowered, his hot flesh parting the folds and he nudged her clit. "You sure you can handle it, little thing?" He murmured against her ear, his breath hot on her skin.

“Yeah, I can. I can do it, just put it in me. Please.” Even when she was being edged, she managed to be polite. How darling.

His hips slowly rolled, the thick head of his erection easing into her. It wasn’t the easiest thing, but she was so slick that it helped. The poor pussy was stretched as he sunk in, fluttering around him as it tried to get used to the intrusion- and it would. Harry would make sure of it. “Fuck!” He heard her gasp, her fingers clenching on the sheets beneath them. "So...big." She whimpered, the words muffled by the bedding. He chuckled darkly, his arms wrapping around her waist and lifting her up onto her knees, her back arching to meet his chest.

“I am big. And you’re taking it like a good little angel. Aren’t you?” He started to move, his hips slowly rolling beneath her, his cock sliding in and out of her in languid pulls. 

She let out a low moan, her head falling back against his shoulder, her body melting into his. “Yes-I’m taking it… I’m taking your cock…” she whimpered, her voice filled with pleasure. It was something different altogether. Sparks of heat all over her body, his strength keeping her up, the most full she had ever felt, and she wondered how she had ever lived without this feeling before.

“You are. Filthy little fucktoy, finally serving your purpose." His voice was a dark purr in her ear, his hot breath washing over her neck. His hips rolled against hers, his strong hand reaching up to hold her throat. She could hear the wet sounds of their bodies meeting, the squelching noises of how turned on she was, and he was more than happy to point it out. "Listen to that. That's the sound of you being so eager for me."

His grip on her throat tightened just a bit as he slowing increased his pace, gucking up into her harder. The new angle had his cock hitting a  spot inside of her that had her gasping, hand grabbing at his forearm to try and ground herself at the stimulation. it was overwhelming in the best way, making her feel a new sense of frenzied she’d never had before, "Fuck, right there. Don't stop, m’begging you- it’s so good." She slurred out, her hips rolling back to meet his thrusts. Her pussy clenched around him like a vice, fluttering and squeezing his thick length.

"That's it, little angel. You can take it. Fucking milk my cock." His pace was relentless , inhuman stamina helping him keep her right where he wanted her. It was too fucking good.

After all the time he’s spent watching her, dipping his toes inside her dreams and planting seeds in her mind to help her want him, he was taking what he wanted. She was loving it. He’d known he’d give it to her good, that she’d never be able to compare him to a human because there wasn’t a chance in hell they could give her what he could -pun intended- but his obsession with the sweet little human was far more engrained in him than he thought. She genuinely loved this. There was no way he could even compel her to respond like this. The girl was eager and he was going to give it to her. He could feel her tightening around him, her body quaking as the pressure built. "You want to cum, don't you slutty girl? Want to cum on my cock?"

"Yes, fuck- I'm so close. Please, please let me cum.” The begging was music to his ears. Matched with how she felt wrapped around him, he knew he was going to come back for more. This was his human now. No take backs. “I'll do anything, just please let me cum on your cock" She was practically sobbing with need, her pussy clenching and fluttering wildly around him, trying to milk his throbbing cock. The wet squelching noises were obscene, her arousal dripping down his shaft and making a mess over his balls but he loved every bit of it.

“Oh, you’ll get it. I’ll let you have it, little angel." He cooed in her ear, his pace slowing as his hips rolled forward, burying himself to the hilt inside her and holding there. His strong hand left her throat and reached down, his fingers slipping between them. Fingertips pressed  against her little bud, rolling it between his thick digits. “For a price.”

She whimpered as he stilled within her, her head turning to nuzzle her nose against his cheek as she tried to beg for more. His fingers on her swollen bud had her back arching further, her hips rolling to meet the pressure, "Oh, anything. Anything, jus’ let me cum.” she whined, her breath hitching as he bullied her clit with his circles. So mean, so good.  “What do you w-want?”

“Your soul.” He purred softly, shallowly thrusting inside of her. “All you need to do is promise yourself to me, sweet angel. Give me your soul, devote yourself to me… and you can have my cock every single night. No one else can have this pussy- but you won’t want to give it to anyone else.” The words were whispered in a soothing tone, mumbled against her cheek.

She whimpered at the promise, her arm wrapping back around his neck tighter as she felt like he was asking for more than her body. She bit her bottom lip, hesitating as she tried to think through the haze of pleasure. It felt hard to think when all she could comprehend was how right it felt to be stuffed to the brim with his fat cock. Every nerve ending was singing his praises. His hands kept up their work, his hips slowly rolling forward to bury himself to the hilt within her. The sensation was heavenly, and she wanted more. "You-you promise? Every night?" Her voice was breathy, needy.

“As long as you give me your soul and give me your devotion, yes. It’s the only way you’ll get me. Get this.” His fingers quickened on her clit, the other hand gently pressing the sides of her throat. “Tell me that you belong to me, mind body and soul, and I’ll let you cum. I’ll fill you with my cum and fuck it into you so you can feel it when you go do all your good deeds tomorrow before crawling back into bed, so you can wait for another load from the very opposite of what you stand for.”

She shuddered, her eyes fluttering shut as his words washed over her. The pleasure was so intense, her mind hazing over until only his voice and touch remained. She could feel herself teetering on the edge, desperate for release. His fingers on her throat made her feel so small, so owned. The thought of being filled with his sinful essence, a secret sin that would fuel her righteous deeds... it was fucked up, but it made her clench around him needily.

“Answer me, Angel. Give yourself to me and I’ll give you my cum. You’ll feel it trickling out of you as you lay in bed tomorrow morning, remember my touch. Remember that you’re mine.” He leaned into her, his teeth nipping at her earlobe. His fingers were relentless, the hand on her throat tightening ever so slightly. “Tell me.” 

Her voice was high-pitched, desperate as she gasped. Maybe she’d wake up tomorrow and regret this, but for now she couldn’t. Swimming in the hazy waters that was the overwhelming pleasure the demon could hand her, she wanted the endless supply.  "I'm yours! Mind, body, soul... it's all yours. Please, please give me what I need. I-I'll remember, I promise. I'll remember that I belong to you." She could barely speak, her breathing hitching as she grew closer and closer to the peak. Her hips jerked against his grasp, silently begging for more.

As the words left her lips, Harry could feel her surrendering to him completely. Her soul, her very essence, now belonged to him. With a deep, rumbling growl of satisfaction, he captured her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her cries as he finally allowed her to cum. His fingers on her clit increased pressure and speed, pushing her over the edge into ecstasy.

Her body stiffened, her head tilting back to break the kiss as her mouth hung open in a silent scream. His hips surged forward, burying himself deep as he let out a dark laugh, malicious in nature as he felt the binding take hold. He swelled inside of her, her inner walls fluttering and clenching around him as her release claimed her.

As he felt her surrender, Harry's own orgasm ripped through him like a freight train. His eyes rolled back, his teeth clenching in a snarl as he began to cum inside of her. His arm held her up, lightly pinching her clit to make her clench around him as he pulsed shot after shot into her, rocking his hips into her- he wanted every drop inside of his new possession. His claim to take. His cum was thick and hot, filling her to the brim as he emptied himself into her. It seeped out of her, dripping down her thighs as he finally slowed, his orgasm subsiding. He pulled out of her, his softening prick leaving her hole open. Pushing her back down into the mattress, he pressed her face into the pillow as he examined his handiwork.

He spread her apart, admiring the way his seed was leaking out of her. So fucking filthy and wrong for a girl who acted like an angel, but at night she had promised herself to the devil. And that couldn’t be undone. He smirked darkly, knowing that by tomorrow, it would have soaked into her, a constant reminder of him. What they’d done. She’d never be able to escape it. Running a finger along her crease, he gathered some of the excess before bringing it up to her face. "Open up. Have a taste." he commanded, pressing his digit against her lips.

With a soft sigh, she parted her lips and allowed his finger to slip inside. Her eyes fluttered closed as she tentatively tasted his essence, a salty and slightly bitter tang coating her tongue. It was the taste of sin, of forbidden fruit, and she couldn't help but suck his finger clean, her cheeks hollowing out. When he withdrew, she let out a soft, needy sound, her face coated with embarrassment and desire. This wasn’t her, it wasn’t a way she’d ever acted with anyone else, but the monster had effectively trapped her in his clutches- and she had no wish for escape, either. Her legs felt like jelly, her skin flushed and hot in the best way, the orgasm nearly having made her pass out. It was safe to say she had been fucked stupid.

Satisfied with her compliance, Harry grinned. Really grinned, teeth and dimples and all. He ran his hands over her back and bottom, squeezing the softness of her possessively. His. It was all his now. After months of watching and waiting, of his nightly visits, she had given in. "You're going to stay like this for a little while longer, alright?" He didn't wait for her response, instead, he flipped her over and pushed her thighs apart, spreading her wet, messied hole wide. "I want you to lie here, like this, and think about who you belong to."

Her arms were splayed above her head, her fingers clutching at the sheets. Her chest rose and fell with quickened breaths, and her eyes were locked onto his, watching as he ran his fingers along her inner thighs, occasionally dipping down to toy with her, keeping her on edge. "You're mine, aren't you?" His voice was low, almost hypnotic. "Say it. Remind me of what I already know." His thumb brushed against her swollen nub, making her gasp.

“I’m yours.” She breathed, eyes opening from their state of rest. The man was hauntingly beautiful, brutal lines and soft skin, hot and silky, and all she knew was that her brain could only remember his name and one sentence to spill out of her swollen mouth. “I belong to you, mind, body and soul. I am happy to be yours.”

There was no turning back now. 

3:33

[vinylmango]

Flower Delivery

crazy ex!Nicholas Alexander Chavez x black!reader

Request: Hi! Can you make a story about Nicholas Chavez being obsessed and real crazy if that’s fine!

Warnings: gaslighting and obsessive behavior, language

word count: 1.2k

Note: Fair warning this is my first time writing long form content in a while and my first request. Thanks so much for requesting and I hope you like it!

part two

part three

masterlist

You opened the shiny silver trailer door with a sigh, your eyes cutting left and right as you quickly clicked the door closed behind you. Silence enveloped you, a stark contrast from the hustle and bustle outside. Flopping down on the small beige sofa near the window of your trailer, you reached an arm out, haphazardly feeling for your phone as you tried your best not to move from your comfortable position. 

You finally grabbed your phone after a few tries, glancing at the various notifications on the screen. “Nothing important.” You mumbled to yourself as you placed the phone down on the coffee table. You glanced up at the table that was beside the full length mirror, your eyes being drawn there due to the pop of colors that screamed against the basically designed trailer that only utilized various shades of creams and whites. 

“No…wh-how?” Slipped from your lips, filling the silence as you stood and took a few hesitant steps towards the beautifully arranged flowers. A sinking feeling began to grow in the pit of your stomach, combining with a growing anger that only seemed to bubble up more the moment your hand touched one of the delicate yellow petals. 

A small white card with your name scrawled in intricately looped lettering caught your attention from beside the vase. “My (Y/n), I always knew you’d be a star. Love, Nick.” You gritted your teeth, tossing it back on the table as you rolled your eyes. “What the fuck?” You inhaled sharply. "Oh my God, what the fuck!" You repeated as you grabbed your phone once again, clicking the contact you didn’t really have to spend much time searching for, and clicking dial.

It only rang twice before the line connected. “Hi (Y/n).” You could hear the smile growing on his face already, your nails turning white around the phone that was pressed to your ear, your lips pulling into a firm line. “I take it you got my flowers?”

“I told you to stop.” Your tone was deceivingly calm as you closed your eyes and let out a breath.

“Stop what, love?” 

“Don’t call me that.” You instantly replied as he chuckled into the line. “Stop sending me things. Stop it. We aren’t dating anymore. It’s been a year, just stop.”

“I sent you flowers every week.” A chill ran up your spine as his tone switched from the lighthearted one to a much more serious and strangely calm one. You could picture his face now, devoid of emotion and dark eyes staring straight at you with a calculating look as if he were assessing you.

“Well we aren’t together. We haven’t been for a year.” You reminded him again as you heard him scoff. 

“You didn’t know what you wanted. I know you (Y/n). We’re better together. Just trust me.” 

“No.” You shook your head, although he couldn’t see you. “You don’t get to do that anymore. You have no idea what I want or need because you’re a fucking psycho!”

“Don’t be so dramatic (Y/N). You’re confu-”

“I know what you did with Sam.” You cut him off. “He showed up at my place last month going on about how two-faced I supposedly am. How he was so lucky some ex of mine told him that I’m a serial cheater, that I cheated on him too. Then the ex told him that I’ve been sleeping with him since before I even met Sam, let alone started dating him, because I’m still in love with my ex.” A humorless laugh left your lips at the absurdity of it all. “I know it was you and you know none of that is true."

"Hm." He didn't say anything, neither confirming or denying your accustation. But you both knew the truth, it hung heavy in the air.

"He broke up with me." You could picture the look of satisfaction that crossed his face. "This is the third time, Nicholas."

“He’s not good enough for you. He’s a douche and a scumbag and he's been that way since high school. He uses people to social climb.” Nicholas brushed it off. “You think I’d allow him to hurt you? Damage your reputation? Make you another one of his conquests? I was protecting you.”

“No. You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to decide who I can and can’t talk to!” Your voice raised as you messed with your hair, a nervous habit that you didn’t realize you did until Nicholas pointed it out one time when you were over for a movie night. “And you need to stop showing up at my place. You’re scaring Mrs. Mills.” You added referring to your elderly neighbor who was the one that told you sometimes a car would come by late at night and park in front of your home then leave after 30 or so minutes. Always the same car. 

“That woman doesn’t even know what day of the week it is most of the time. You really are going to believe her over me? That's insane. She's damn near senile.” He sounded offended now, his tone short and tense.

“Nick, I'm done, seriously. Loose my fucking number.” You said finally, hanging up and immediately blocking his contact. You jumped as a loud knock sounded from the other side of your trailer door.

That couldn’t be him. Could it?

You opened the trailer door just enough to stick your head out. 

“Are you alright (Y/N)? You look like you saw a ghost or something.” It was just one of the studio interns coming to get you from the filming break. She laughed lightly, her blue eyes shining almost as much as her dark glossy hair in the sunlight. You let out a forced laugh, your mouth rising into a smile that did not reach your eyes, and frankly looked more like a grimace than anything close to a smile. 

“Sorry. I-I was just lost in thought.” You tried to cover for your awkward reaction as she nodded, looking you over once again before the smile returned to her face. 

“They’re ready for you on set again.” She told you as you nodded and grabbed your phone off the table before following her out and towards the stage. You should’ve grabbed those flowers and thrown them in the dumpster that was on your way to the stage from your trailer. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t.

You glanced back once, worried you may have forgotten to lock your trailer, you couldn’t remember if you had or hadn’t. Your foot caught on your shoelace as your eyes locked with the all too familiar dark brown ones that had once made you smile. 

He watched you stumble, his eyebrows raising as a hint of a smile appeared on his lips at your blunder. You gasped, looking around to see if anyone else was seeing the man who was not supposed to be on set or if this really was a figment of your imagination. 

“Are you okay?” The intern spun around and asked, concern written all over her face. “I’ve been trying to tell people on set about that hole. They really need to repave this. You aren’t hurt are you?” She was talking a mile a minute as you blinked at her and simply nodded, glancing back in the direction of your trailer to find nothing there. No Nicholas after all.

Maybe it really had just been your imagination.

“Uh…Ye-yeah. I’m alright.”

[scarletlizzard]

Christmas Angel

Parings: wanda maximoff x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: smut, fluff, dirty talk, name calling, choking, strap on (R) receiving, dom!wanda, fingering , cheating?

Summary: At a Christmas party in a club, you find yourself sitting alone at the bar. That is until Wanda Maximoff buys you a drink.

You sip down another straight shot of vodka, wondering how the hell you got here. You look around the crowded club at the Christmas decorations that hung all over the building. Strands of green and red flickered above you, fake felt snow wrapped around the bar, even the bartender was wearing half of a Santa suit. The crowd of people behind you on the dance floor seemed to get bigger in the 15 minutes you had been sitting at the bar, and you were starting to wonder whether or not you should leave.

"You want another?" the shirtless Santa asks, his fake white beard crooked as he shakes a cocktail. You sigh with a smile and shrug.

"Why the hell not?" He nods at your words, returning a smile. As he pours you another shot, you find yourself subconsciously turning the ring on your left index finger. You stare at it for a moment before grabbing the shot glass, lifting it up towards shirtless Santa, and downing it in one go.

After that shot you definitely felt yourself relax, feeling the warmth of the alcohol begin to course through your body. Before you could call over the bartender again, shirtless Santa, he's already walking towards you with a drink in hand. "Here you go!" He sets down a fruity looking cocktail in front of you. His beard was no longer crooked, but now his hat was.

"Oh, hey, I didn't order anything else!" You raise your voice, trying to speak above the music and across the bar.

"No worries, someone sent this for you and paid your tab already!" He yells back and sends a friendly wink your way before nodding his head in the direction across the bar. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the color red as you looked over, a woman standing out from the rest of the crowd. She raises her glass in your direction, and you're compelled to do the same.

She smiles and watches as you take a sip of her gift, and you can't help the blush on your cheeks from the way she stares. From what you could make out, she was wearing a nice red sweater that clashed with her gorgeous auburn hair and black slacks on her bottom half. Her eyes were encased with black framed glasses, and thankfully, they couldn't hide the glimmer of emerald you saw behind them.

Lost in the sea of green, you realize she's left her spot and is making her way over to you. You quickly run a hand through your hair and straighten up the short green dress you had on. Soon enough, she's standing next to you, leaning against the wood of the bar.

"Hey there!" The redhead says.

"Hey."

"I couldn't help but notice you all alone over here," she says, her voice is just loud enough for you to hear it over the loud music. You notice her eyes settle on the ring on your finger, but only for a moment. She has a small smirk on face as her eyes move back up to meet yours. "Or maybe you aren't alone?" She asks with a tilt of her head.

"I'm alone," you say flatly, shrugging and sipping your drink.

"Good to hear. I'm Wanda, and you?"

"Y/N," is all you say, watching as she nods.

"That's a very beautiful name." You feel her inch forward towards you. There's a moment of awkward silence as you don't speak. "Where are you from?" Wanda asks.

"New York."

"Oh really? Wow, New York is beautiful this time of year.. Rockefeller Center, the snow."

Another moment of silence.

"Did you go to school there?"

You nod, "Yep, NYU. I studied photography there."

"Oh, that's really cool! I've always been interested in photography, you know. Taking pictures.. and what not.." She clears her throat and adjusts the glasses on her face.

Silence.

"I um, I like your earrings by the way, they uh, really complement your eyes," She says with a sweet smile, bringing her cup up to her lips and taking a drink. You sigh and do your best to look annoyed with her. "You know actually -"

You cut her off with a raise of your hand, standing from the stool. "Let me just stop you right there, Wanda. You seem really sweet and really nice. You bought me a drink, asked about my life, and complemented me.." You start off, looking at her cheeky grin and the glasses on her face. "But sweet and nice is not what I'm looking for. I don't want someone to chat with all night long, talking about who's from where and what makes you giggle. Not interested, thanks," you give her a fake, bitchy smile.

Wanda has a look of shock on her face, mouth open as she stutters to find the right words. "Y/N, Y/N wait, I'm not -" But you're walking away from her to the dance floor, leaving the rest of your drink at the bar. You let out a huff as you weave through the ocean of bodies, letting yourself get lost in the music.

The lights above the dance floor flash red and green, and everyone around you was wearing Christmas colors or tacky Christmas sweaters. It reeked of alcohol and sweaty bodies, but you found yourself swaying your hips to the music anyway. It only took a few minutes before you felt a pair of hands on your waist, gripping tightly. You felt their body against your back, moving along with you to the upbeat music that played. One of the hands traveled up your waist and side, up your arm and shoulder to move your hair away from one side of your neck. You can feel them lean down against you, their lips on your ear as they begin to speak.

"I'm anything but sweet and nice, angel." You hear Wandas voice as her arm wraps around you tightly to prevent you from turning around. Her other arm wraps higher around your body, letting her fingers explore the skin on your exposed shoulder.

"Wanda -"

"Shut up, slut," she spits out, making you gasp in her grip. "That's what you are isn't it? That's how you want to be treated?" Wanda presses her hips further against your ass, and that's when you realize for the first time she's got something underneath her slacks. She loosens her grip enough to let you turn around in her arms.

You see that she's lost the glasses, and her eyes are dark with lust. Flashes of green hit her face, accenting her eyes. When red begins to flash, another smirk plays on her lips.

"What did you just call me?" You say, shock still on your voice. But who were you kidding? You could feel yourself getting more turned on with every smirk on her face.

"I called you a fucking slut," she says, without blinking. "I'm not interested in talking or chatting, I don't care about New York or where you went to school... and I fucking hate those earrings." Again, without changing a single expression on her face.

Your jaw drops at her words, "I will deck you right here and take you to the fucking floor."

"Promise?" Another smirk.

The two of you stand and stare at each other for a moment.

Two moments.

Then you're leaning up, and she's leaning down in what could be the hottest kiss of your life. Her hands are on your back holding you tightly against her, and your hands move behind her head to tangle in her auburn locks, pulling at them. Wanda groans into your mouth, mumbling, "Bathroom, now.." against your lips.

Once the door shuts, Wanda pins you to the hard surface, reaching behind you to lock the door. Your arms wrap around her neck, pulling her closer to you and kissing her again. Her tongue slides across your bottom lip, forcing herself into your mouth. You moan at the feeling and gladly let her. Wandas hands move down your body, exploring as she makes her way to the bottom of your dress. She pulls up roughly, letting it slide above your hips.

You bite down on her bottom lip, sucking hard and loving the way she hisses at the feeling. She pulls back for a moment, "This is what you want, baby?" Wanda asks, and you appreciate she's asking for permission. You quickly nod, "Yes."

She wastes no time in kneeling down and ripping your panties off so roughly that you realize she's ripped the fabric. She tosses the torn panties to the ground and looks at you with another fucking smirk.

You think, in that moment, her smirk is going to be the death of you.

"You want to be a slut so badly, I'll treat you like one," her hand reaches up to your neck, squeezing tightly. Her other hand moves between your thighs, easily sliding in two fingers. She chuckles darkly and bites back a moan as she feels how wet you were, for her. Her hand squeezes a little harder, making you loose a little air in the perfect amount of pleasure.

"You look even better with my hand around your neck," Wanda says, her fingers beginning to pick up the pace. You begin to moan loudly at the feeling, your hands resting on her shoulders and gripping onto her sweatshirt for support.

"Fuck, Wanda!" She groans at your words, not letting her grip go from around your neck. Wanda feels you begin to squeeze her fingers and she tilts her head.

"Already, angel? You want to cum for me? You want to cum all over my fingers?" She asks, moving them faster. You open your mouth to speak but between her hand on your neck and her fingers pumping in and out of you, you're lost for words. Instead you manage to nod, feeling a build up of pleasure in your lower stomach burning. As you're about to reach your peak she quickly removes her fingers, making you whimper at the empty feeling. You glare at her, tears welling as your body was denied it's release.

"Did you think I would really let a little slut like you cum on my fingers? No, no.." She says with a shake of her head, letting go of your neck. Your legs tremble under your weight and you watch as she begins to unzip her pants. "Get on your knees, like a good girl." You're suprised at yourself, that was all it took for you to follow her instructions.

Wanda stood tall in front of you, her green eyes dark and a permanent smirk at the sight in front of her. She takes the faux cock from her pants, letting it through the undone zipper. Her strap is bigger than you thought, and your eyes widen, knowing you hadn't taken anything like that before. "You'll be okay, get it nice and wet for me," she smiles down at you, putting her hand on the back of your head.

You swallow hard and wet your lips before lifting it up, licking down the side. Wandas breathing was getting heavier, and you knew it was turning her on. She takes your hair in a fist, pulling it just a little bit. You finally take the strap in your mouth, moving your head up and down. "That's it, angel.. fuck you look so hot on your knees," Wanda groans and throws her head back but for only a moment, wanting to watch every second of this.

She begins to move her hips a little, pulling at your hair a little harder. It's when you look up at her with seemingly innocent eyes that she lets out a moan. Wanda can only take a little longer before she's taking herself out of your mouth, her eyes following the trail of spit from your mouth to her strap. She helps you stand up and pushes you against the door for a second time tonight.

You're surprised when she picks you up, "Wrap your legs around me, baby." She says to you, hands gripping your ass. Your back is pressed to the door as she uses one hand to line herself up at your entrance. You bite down on your lip when you feel the tip inside of you.

"Don't be gentle," you smirk at her, enjoying the reaction it drawed out from her. Her hips snap up quickly, and you eat your words as in one motion she's fully inside of you.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she says and adjusts her grip on you. Your legs are wrapped tightly around her when she begins to move her hips, thrusting harshly. You can't control your moans as she fucks you, loving every second of the gorgeous redheads attack on you. Your fingers thread through her hair, arms holding onto Wanda as tightly as you could. She leans forward to kiss you and smirks against your lips as you can barely kiss her back.

"God, you feel so fucking good," Wanda moans against your mouth, watching as you close your eyes and throw your head back against the door.

"Ah, ah.." she says. Her breath is hot against your skin, her thrusts not getting off rhythm once. "Look at me when I fuck you." You open your eyes with a whimper, "Let me hear you, angel." You oblige and let out all your moans, not being able to control yourself.

"Oh, Wanda!... Yes, yes, yes... fuck me harder! ... oh fuck..."

Both of you are moaning now, and Wanda has sucked a few marks on your neck as she murmered dirty things in your ear. She feels your legs tighten around her, your nails digging into the back of her neck.

"I want to hear you beg for it," she pants out, finding herself close to climax. "Beg me to let you cum."

Your head is spinning. You can barely breathe, but you're willing to do anything as long as she doesn't deny you again. "Wanda, please! Please, let me cum.. please.." You whimper out, feeling that familiar heat building up inside you. "I need you, I need to cum, please.." You beg her, and it's music to her ears.

It shouldn't be possible, but she thrusts harder inside of you. "Fuck, fuck.. good girl, taking my cock so well," Wanda moans against your neck, pulling back to look in your eyes.

"Cum for me, angel.. cum all over my cock. Be a good girl for me," she pants out, her thrusts becoming uneven. At her words you feel yourself let go, screaming her name as you do. Your thighs become wetter and Wanda continues to thrust, her pace slowing down as you ride out your high. "God.. fuck baby!" She moans, her hips stuttering against you as she does the same.

The two of you stay there, still for a moment as you cach your breath. Wanda takes a deep breath, leaving slow, wet kisses on your neck and chest. You hum as she does, letting your eyes close and your fingers scratching softly on the nape of her neck.

"Wanna go get some pizza?" Wanda asks as she watches you fix your makeup in the mirror. You take in her relaxed demeanor in the mirror, leaned against the bathroom wall with her arms crossed as if she didn't just fuck the life out of you. Your eyes travel to her face and - goddammit, she smirks.

Wandas jacket is warm as the two of you leave the club and you take in a deep breath in the cold, your nose being filled with the scent of Wanda. For three blocks you walk and talk about the Christmas decorations you see along the way. "Now, those ones, are pretty," She smiles wide pointing to a store with nostalgic lighting wrapped around it's window. The colorful lights shine on her face and you find yourself smiling, taking her hand and intertwining your fingers.

She took you to her favorite pizza place. It was hot and greasy and everything you could want, drunk and freshly fucked at 2am. When you were finished and satisfied, she held open the door for you, her arm stopping you from walking through the frame. You look at her, confused. Wanda only looks up, and you giggle as you realize she's looking at the mistletoe hanging above the two of you. "You know it's bad luck if you dont kiss under it.." Another smirk is all it takes for you to kiss her again.

Wanda holds your hand as she walks you home, only a few blocks away. You feel her fingers play with the ring on your finger. As you step up to your door she smiles, staying behind you at the steps. "So.. this is where you live, huh?" She smiles up at you, green eyes shining brightly.

You laugh and shake your head, stepping down so you are right in front of her. Your hand reaches up to her cheek, letting your thumb move softly. She leans into your touch, her cold cheeks warming in your hand. "You live here too, Wanda.." You giggle at the way she scrunches up her nose, and you lean up to place a soft kiss on it.

You pull the warm comforter over yourself and smile at your wife as she walks in with a glass of water. "What'd you think? I was going for a nerdy with a hot side, but you blew me out of the water." Wanda smiles back and climbs into bed next to you. You laugh and shake your head, letting her wrap her arms around you.

"I loved it. The glasses were a really nice touch, by the way. You looked so sexy.. I wasn't too bitchy? I was trying to have some attitude," you say and she laughs along with you. "I still cant believe we did that.." You rest your head on her chest, relaxing as her fingers stroke your hair. You let your own rub circles on her shoulder.

"No, I loved the attitude. It was so hot. Perfect amount of bitchy," she chuckles and kisses the top of your head. There's a moment of comfortable silence as the two of you lay holding each other.

"You're perfect.." her voice is soft, and you smile at her words, staring at the ring you've been twirling on your finger. You wondered how you got so lucky to deserve Wandas love. She lay quietly, wondering how she got so lucky to deserve being able to love you.

"I love you, Wanda.."

"I love you, more Y/N.."

**********

a/n: This is based on the opening scene of the movie Four Christmases! I thought it would be funny to see if people caught on to it or if they thought that the reader was cheating or something like that, oops. Thanks for all the likes and reads! Any comments are greatly appreciated ♡

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (pt.68)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

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

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

W/c: 13.4k

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

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“D-O-N-T”

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

“N-O”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise, okay? I promise.”

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

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

He probably thinks Hoseok was just comforting you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do we have a carrying case for Noodle?”

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

“Yeah, it’s in the basement.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was just getting a glass of water.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Joonie?” You ask.

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

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

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

“What are you doing alpha?” 

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon would be a good father. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe south, to see the cherry blossoms?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be so nice Joonie."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thump.

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

The silence gnashes its teeth, still hungry.

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

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

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

Thump

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

Thump

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

Thump, breath, thud.

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

Thud.

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

Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud

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

Thud

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

Thud

Namjoon looks out onto the street and finds it empty.

Thud thud thud

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could he catch up if he started running now?

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

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

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

“I don’t know, I don’t-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A deal- I think she made a deal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hobi?”

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

Hoseok scrambles not for your wallet but for his.

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

The train ticket is gone.

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

I’m sorry, I love you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You still got that train ticket?”

“Of course I do.”

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

“No, I don’t, can you remind me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Re-routing!"

“Wait Minnie- go left.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thud.

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

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

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

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

“What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It could be the same name.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did. She’s an omega.”

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

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

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

“I’m sure.”

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whatever her reasons, this has gone on long enough.

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

“Jimin, I need you to drive.”

~-~

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

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

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

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

“Tae? Where is everybody?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No- you can't-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cuddled them a little.”

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

“And when they put them back in,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you for drying me off.”

The phone clicks and disconnects.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon cries.

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

~-~

(Hidden playlist ▶ Play track?)

“Shit!”

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

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

“Get back in the fucking car!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“-if you see something say something.”

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

“Yoongi- Just go!”

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

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

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

But he doesn’t run like Hoseok does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~-~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[vivid-dreamscapes]

Letting the Mha boys pick clothes at Target for you (got inspiration shopping with my mom at Target, sooo).

Deku

“Mkay baby.” You said as you and your boyfriend walked into Target. The large store was surprisingly calm for a Friday night—not busy but not empty.

The two of you continued to walk down the aisles, pulling him away as he awkwardly waved to little kids fanning over him, recognizing him from the TV.

“You’re allowed to pick three of any clothing item here and I have to buy and wear it.” You told him, laying out the idea of this little challenge. His green eyes snapped to your face, widening with excitement before scurrying off, leaving you to wait by the birthday cards. Oh gods.

Shortly after, he returned with one All Might hoodie, a fuzzy pair of baggy All Might pajama pants, and All Might socks. The cutest thing—he got two of each. One for you, one for him.

He of course, paid for his own.

Todoroki

“Hey Shoto, I have an idea.”

You said with a smile, looking over at your boyfriend as he sipped on his drink, looking at his phone. At the sound of his name, he looked up with a simple; “Hm?”

“Pick any three clothing items and I’ll buy and wear them, no take backsies.”

At first he just stared at you, as if wondering if he really had to do this. After a moment though, he shrugged and walked down the aisles.

You just sat on a bench next to a life size plastic dog—the dog mascot for target actually. You gave the fake dog a look before tilting the straw if you’re boba to it, as if offering it a sip. “Want some?”

About then, your boyfriend came back, not even questioning the fact you’re were talking to a dog mannequin with a target drawn on its eye.

“I didn’t really know what to pick, so here.” He said simply, handing you the items casually. The first item was a simple grey hoodie with a very soft and fluffy white inside. The second was a pair of sunglasses in you’re favorite color, and the third was jean jacket with jean square patches in light colors decorating it.

Bakugou

“Thanks for coming.” You said sinking as the two of you waked into Target. Your blonde boyfriend just grumbled, his hands shoved angrily into his pockets. Bakugou hated shopping, so the fact he came with was surprise. You did have an idea to make it up to him though.

“Tell you what. While I’m getting my stuff, you can pick out any three clothing items. I’ll buy and wear them no matter what.” You said and he looked up, clearly interested. Then; with a smirk you probably should have been concerned about, he walked off.

A few minutes later, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you found a smug looking Katsuki, his chosen objects in his hand. Suspiciously, you took them with a raised eyebrow, before your jaw dropped.

A lingerie set, a thong, and the only normal thing being some All Might baseball cap. You scoffed and slapped his arm lightly, a sinister chuckle escaping his lips.

Denki (they don’t have yellow T^T)

“Any three things?” The blonde asked excitedly, practically jumping up and down as you nodded. “No limits? Literally anything?” Once again, you nodded.

“For the gajillionth time, yes Denki.” You said with a soft smile and an eye roll. He bit his lip to Fontaine his excitement before squeaking out an ‘okay’ and dashing away.

To be honest, you half expected something extremely provocative, or extremely revealing. But when he came back, you were surprised. He had found a loose black tank top, some cute workout shorts, and a little chain you could hook to your jean belt loops or something.

“I just thought you’d look really cute in them!” He beamed, clearly proud with his pick. Ohhh your heart.

Kirishima

“Anything? Anything I want?” The red head asked, looking at you like he was a puppy and you were holding a treat. You gave him a sheepish grin and nodded.

“Yup. Any three things.” You told him. And with that, he was off, looking at every little thing excitedly.

As you waited by the [favorite accessory] area, you’re golden retriever boyfriend sped around, looking at every little thing. Choruses of ‘Ooo this is cute! But I can find cuter’ and ‘Noo’ and ‘This would be perfect!’ escaped his lips in the twenty minutes he was gone.

Soon, he returned with a big fluffy [Favorite animal] hoodie, some fluffy socks, and some shark slippers to match his at home.

(Tried to keep as gender neutral as possible)

Requests are ✨open for business✨! (Seriously, I have severe writers block, this alone took me a week)

[xayasmrxsoftlyx]

Imagine a Butterfly Alien

Imagine...

you're a human whose been farming and growing plants for as long as you could walk. You like the birds, the bees, the butterflies, even all the bugs that others thought were gross and useless...worthless, yet you've found appreciation of them.

you're also not ignorant to the fact that aliens have made their presence and cultures known to your world for a little while now. You've yet to meet any in your tiny farming village, but you're sure they can't be too different from any other humanoids you've met before. To say you're a black sheep to your village in those statements would be a massive understatement.

That's not to say you're surrounded by bigoted, closeminded individuals- on the contrary, your little village is eager anticipating meeting these new friends no matter what variety they are. So excited and willing to accommodate.

So, you're more than a little surprised when one day you hear a loud crash on your farm and go running over to investigate only to see a massive Butterfly Alien having torn his wing and crash landed your on your front lawn. Right near your butterfly bush, you reflect later. In the moment, you're sheepish to admit, you're spending the time panicking and crying.

At first, the Butterfly Alien is dazed and equally confused, interesting distended eyes seemingly peering around. You're sat next to him, face flushed and teary eyes, voice high pitched and fast paced; he's in pain and immediately notices tear within the upper quarter of his right wing. You can only assume he starts to suffer shock as he begins to violently tremble. At this point, you're more than upset at yourself for not going to at least one Culture seminar your village held to ease the welcome and culture shock of/for your future visitors.

You're frantic and nearly as trembly as the Butterfly Man you attempt to touch Him, but you flutter your hands around (adorably) unsure if you'd stress or hurt Him further. Tears finally begin to fall as the anxiety of it crests- the Alien flutters His wings quickly, almost desperately, as if gauging them, testing their abilities. You gasp loudly as the tear rips the top quarter of His wing off right in front of your eyes. You begin to hyperventilate as the Man begins to tremor again, whole body shaking like a leaf caught in the wind.

You can't quite see what happens next, eyes blurring your vision with thick tears causing you to wipe at them with the back of your hand. It's as you're doing that when the Butterfly Man moves. It's quicker than you imagine He could move before He's up; and one second later He's flying again.

He doesn't even appear to turn back as he glides up into the sky, as if He'd never crashed at all. You're left there blubbering, blurring vision flicking between the sky and the dinner plate sized wing remnant left in your yard.

You can't understand why, but when the breeze starts to pick up, you snatch the piece of his wing with your shaky hands and hurry inside feeling as if you'd seen a ghost. Unsure where to go with it or what to do with it, you find the biggest frame that you had that could fit it and frame it. It's the only way you can think of no harm coming to it further. It's beautiful, too, soft but vibrant colors popping against the whites of your wall as you hold it up in the sun.

You look into attending some of your village's culture seminars a few hours later after your heart stopped racing and mind spinning with everything that had happened.

Imagine as you're walking into town to see when the next Culture seminar is and you're hearing from whispered shadows as you're walking into town "did you see?" "did you hear?!" "They finally came!" "We need to throw a Welcome Festival!" "I wanna make them food to welcome them!" "I-I heard they're all...single..."

You fluster again when you reach the center of your village square, there's several insectoid aliens that have migrated to your village- drawn by its rich agriculture and farming lifestyles. There's only one Butterfly Alien, though, it's here, and only here, finally here that you get a good look at the person who literally crashed into you life.

He's not just beautiful, all colorful wings and lean muscles and graceful movements, He's handsome, too. He's got these masculine humanoid traits that add a rugged edge to His beauty- He's got a distinct jawline and defined cheekbones and whilst nothing about Him is particularly sharp or overtly (humanly) masculine, there's a defined demeanor to Him that pulls in favor of His handsomeness. The tear in His wing helps strongly to add that ruggedness.

It's hard to tell with eyes like his if you've met his gaze but with his posture shift and almost sheepish expression coming over him you feel as if you may have. You flush, flustered by his attention even so indirectly. The head of your village, MeeMaw, eagerly invites the couple of them into her space and once they're out of sight the whispers turn to full on chatter.

You huff, trying to push past how out of whack everything's become in one day and now you suppose you have a dual purpose for lingering by MeeMaw's quarters. You'll definitely need those Culture Seminars after today, and you suppose while you're at it....You could try and give the Butterfly Man His wing back to Him....You don't know if He needs it, but at the very least you'd have an excuse to talk to Him. You just hope you don't get shy on Him...you certainly didn't make the "best" first impression

(Little do you know, He thought it was so cute. So panicked over Him without knowing Him. So worried over Him without knowing He'd been there to peep on you after seeing just how cute you were tending to your farm

(Imagine He's just so grateful and thinks you're the cutest, sweetest little thing to save His wing for Him. Were you going to go looking for Him like some sweet and brave Knight in shining armor? How adorable!

(So sweet, little human, so cute! Gosh, you must be His! You must be made for Him! Why else would you have been so scared for him? You wouldn't save just anyone's amputated limb, would you? You must...love Him!

(You have no idea, either, until much later anyway, just how rare He is. Insectoid Aliens aren't the most intergalactically social so they're pretty rare off their own planets- Butterfly Aliens especially so, even more so. Mostly due to the fragility of their wings and inability to regrow. If someone wanted, it would be so easy to destroy or even rip His wings from Him, yet you wept over Him. Many would steal Him away, cage Him forever; yet you let Him free. Let Him keep His freedom. You're truly one of a kind. Just as He is.

(That must mean He's right- you are made for each other. He's glad you think He's handsome, He'd fight you for your love even if you were to think He isn't.

[queenendless]

💗Safe Haven (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader)💗

A/n: ... I legit had no clue what to write. So it's gonna be short. Sorry. God this JJK burnout is getting worse!

Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, and these two are enemies on opposites sides but in reality are secret lovers (though it ain't a secret to those who truly know them) with you as their third. And like reader-chan, I need comfort right now.

PLEASE DON'T PLAGARIZE, TRANSLATE, COPY, REPOST AND ETC MY FAN CONTENT. Reblog, like, and follow instead thnx u.

The front door of the apartment unlocked, swinging open as that familiar boisterous voice boomed out. “Sweetheart~! Your Toru is here~!” The door slide closed as Satoru Gojo took off his black dress boots to leave by your welcome mat.

His socked, heavy footsteps sounded getting closer in just a few strides. “Did ya miss me? Cause I sure missed — !”

The sounds of glass shattering followed by the loud thump of something falling made him run, honed in on your cursed energy. Finding you crumbled up on the glass shard covered floor of the living room.

“Y/n!?” Using the barest traces of cursed energy in his finger to collect the shards only to erode them into cursed nothingness, he could safely tend to you. “Hold on. I got you.”

Only when he slowly helped you roll around to sit up on your butt did he see crimson dripping down your hand from the cut open wound on your wrist.

“Fuck.” He muttered before speaking out loud. “I don't see any glass in there. Still,” He pulled off his blindfold to bind it tight enough to put enough pressure to stop the bleeding.

“Toru, your blindfold!”

“I have plenty of backups stashed back at my place. And here, of course. Besides, this is just temporary.” His updo now freed to let his hair down hang over those radiant eyes that bore anxious concern for you as well as the utmost confidence, pulling your uninjured hand up gently as his other arm wrapped around your waist to get you on your feet.

“Not to worry, my dearest angel. Your valiant lover will get you all patched up in no time.”

The sliding open of the rolling door leading to the balcony grabbed your attention.

Then again, you both felt that familiar cursed presence coming a mile away.

“Well now,” Seeing the manta ray returning to his own shadow, Suguru Geto hummed deeply. “What have we here?” He took off his zōri sandals to place by the open doorway. “Satoru, you're no healing nurse like Shoko is, ya know.”

“For your information, Suguru,” the sassy hurt in Gojo's voice betrayed the grin that was there. “I happen to be a wonderful nurse!”

Geto cheekily pointed out. “Then you have a small bloody puddle to wipe up, nurse-sama~”

Satoru groaned a bit. “Hang on. I can't be expected to do all the work.”

“My blood, my mess to clean up.” You meekly pointed out.

Satoru gently lifted you up by the waist just to plop you on the couch, clicking his tongue and wagging his finger at you. “Sorry love, but you look exhausted. No wonder you collapsed earlier and got yourself hurt. Now you need to take it easy.”

Suguru sighed deeply. “Very well. I'll help my dear Satoru out if it'll make him happy.”

Both men hummed as Gojo leaned over to smooch Geto for several drawn out moments to fill that mouth with its usual sweet taste. “Thank you~” Gojo beamed before stalking off to the bathroom where you kept the first aid kit under the sink.

Seeing a decent sized, withered red leaved Jubokko tree become sentient with blinking eyes creep out of Suguru's shadow made your curl away from it. “Sorry dearest, but it'll help clean up the mess much faster.” Suguru assured, despite cringing as its hole of a mouth sucked up every trace of blood on that floor, hissing as its root hands reached out for your bloody clothed wrist only to be sucked back into Suguru's shadow again.

“Wretched leech.” He griped, his white tabi socked feet padded over to you.

You flushed pink at the sight of Suguru undoing his gold-colored kāṣāya garment to drape over the couch as he rolled up his black yukata robe sleeves.

“Choosing to leave the sorcerer life is one thing … but living among these … monkeys. Honestly honey, I'd prefer you live with me and the girls … though with everything that's been transpiring lately …” He sat down and gingerly took your wrapped wrist, smiling faintly recognizing Gojo's blindfold even if bloodstained. “I can see why living away from all that chaos does seem safer.”

“I have returned!” Satoru slid in, holding the kit above his head like it was the newborn heir of the Pride Lands. “So, since I got here first and all, I figured you are up to playing nurse this time?”

“Fine by me. But best we clean it in the bathroom.” Geto recommended.

Gojo drooped, whining. “Back the way I came then. Jeez, could've told me that earlier?”

Geto scoffed. “Oh hush you.”

The cold tap water of your bathroom sink ran as the blindfold was unbound, plopping into the sink, crimson draining away as you kept your wrist under the running faucet.

“Fortunately, the cut isn't that deep so no stitching is needed. Still, I suggest you focus your attention elsewhere to make it seem less painful in your mind's eye, love.” Suguru cautioned as he doused a spare soft clothed rag on the countertop with your mild hand soap before letting it get wet enough.

“You can start by explaining why you're so pooped out?” Hugging you from behind meant you could lean on Satoru's sturdy body as your fatigue was coming back in.

“Insomnia.” You whined a bit as he lifted you up again just to plop you on the counter. “Depression. Lonesomeness – Figured it out now?” Your griping did unnerve them.

Your sniffling meant tears blurred your vision, looking away to face the wall and not them. Satoru weaved his hand through your hair, pulling your head to flush your weeping face in between his plush pecs as Suguru began dabbing and cleaning around the cut.

“I mean, work stress for one cause of course there is. Living here by myself for two. And seeing cursed spirits flock around here, harmless ones at that, still makes me anxious if things will escalate to full blown shit.” You felt yourself laxing as Gojo brushed your hair as well as your arm to reassure you that you weren't alone now. “I'm always gonna be worried for the day when you two don't come back … or for when you do return … but I'll be dead or worse.” The sting in your wrist was outweighed by the ache in your cracked heart.

Shadows covered both their faces, letting you speak.

“I know you both went through hell after Riko-chan … and Haibara-kun … and I thought leaving with Nanami-san would mean I find some semblance of peace and try to live as normally as I could.”

Gauze bandages gingerly covered your wrist as Geto's nimble hands got to work.

“Even so, I thought keeping in touch would be better than nothing … despite the risks … I needed to hear your voices again. See your smiles again. I'm sorry. I – !”

Tenderly holding your cheeks to have you look up at him, you became breathless as Gojo kissed you openly, his tongue brushing yours, capturing your sobs, brushing your streaking tears with those calloused thumbs of his.

“Never apologize for your big beautiful heart, you breathtaking angel.” Satoru heaved heavily, hot pants painting your trembling lips as various emotions swept through those big blue eyes.

Your chin was firmly grasped as your face turned to make way for Geto's lips as his thick neck flexed on how much he wanted to swallow your taste to drown out the horridness that is the taste of cursed spirits.

“How did two damaged beasts such as ourselves get to be blessed with the most endearing creature our eyes have ever laid upon?” Suguru whispered, devotion vivacious in his gaze.

Choked whimpers and shaky gasps leave your lips, submerged in their kisses of unified warmth.

“You were with me at my lowest point when I needed someone to hear me the most.”

“You knocked some sense into my dense noggin and dragged me back just so me and Suguru would hash things out.”

“Even prideful maniacs need to hash things out.” You yawned as Gojo carried you bridal style while Geto hurried packing the first aid kit away.

“I'm sorry we haven't made enough time for you, angel. I'm the biggest packing tank for handling the shittest messes those elders can throw at me. Doesn't beat seeing you though.” Satoru purred the last line as he flicked his pinkie finger to get your door to open. You giggled as he fell atop you on the bed, snatching Suguru's wrist as he just came in after. “Both of you~!”

Suguru's exasperated sigh was betrayed by his wistful grin as he smooched the smirk stretching on Satoru's face.

The sky went from cloudy and blue to the warm colors of the sunset.

Giant sculpted fingers traced your face. From your lashes to your nose. Brushing your forehead, your cheeks, then finally your breathing lips. Lost in deep sleep, Suguru watched in wonder at how serene you appeared.

Stripping off that black zip-up work jacket of his to drape over the dresser, Satoru laid down beside you, brushing your hair leisurely.

“So … what happens now?” Suguru murmured.

“Well,” Satoru hummed, raising a finger. “Option one: we keep going as things have been but that will still leave our little lamb all by her lonesome while we're swept up in the war of our ideals.”

“Option two: we both come clean about our secret but be labeled and hunted as partners in crime.” Suguru continued, raising his own finger.

“Or … there's always option three.” Oh Satoru the ominous.

“Which is?” Suguru was hesitant to ask.

“We three elope, you two and the girls can move into my place, we get two cats that look like us and we name them Catoru and Cuguru~!”

. . .

Suguru laughed under his breath. “You're such a doofus.”

“Well this doofus is all for you two to deal with til the end of our days.” Gojo drowsily put as he ruffled Geto's already tousled hair; his bun coming undone.

“Best to ask Y/n about it after she finally gets some good rest, first.” Geto kissed the wrist of Gojo's hand cupping his cheek; Gojo thumbed his earring filled, large earlobe.

“Hai Hai,” Pulling the younger man close enough, Satoru blissfully, deeply, lip lock danced with his best friend, partner in infamy, and one and only.

Well, one of two.

Heated panting hitting each other's faces, blue looked down, to which black followed.

Finally at ease, able to sleep with their distinctive scents and comfy warmth enveloping you.

For the first time in a while — what felt like forever to you actually — you were at peace.

Feeling velvety wet sweetness kissing you followed by another pair immediately after had you humming for more, to which brought you slightly out of sleep at how much they peppered your entire face with their loving kisses.

Sunset turned to night as their own exhaustion caught up to them both, spooning you from both sides, legs intertwined, snores filling the room, as three bundled into one among rustled sheets and strewn about pillows.

Your bandaged wrist brushed their bare wrists as their hands held yours.

Intertwined.

In hand.

And in life.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Maybe a drabble in which our Lamb meets Chimaera Reader, the maker of all crowns? Like, he stumbles upon their lair, and sees all types of the crowns, big and small, black and white, one-eyed and two-eyed, etc.? Maybe even a little inter actions between the Reader and the Red Crown in which it recognises them as their maker?

Sorry for my English, it is not my native language-

Also sorry if this request repeats, tumblr May have doubled it-

I swear I'm gonna turn this into an OC one day because I LOVE the concept of a crown maker in the COTL universe

........

'Where am I now..?' Lamb pondered as they stepped into a cavern--one most unfamiliar to them.

It was strange, considering they've scoured nearly every corner of the Old Faith for resources, potential rival cult activity, and even martyrs for the Bishops.

But this area was entirely new to them.

With their weapon drawn, they cautiously ventured further inward, eventually arriving into a larger room that was almost entirely cloaked in darkness. They could barely see a thing even with the few torches scattered around lighting the way.

Then suddenly, they saw a bunch of eyes opening up on all sides of them, varying in shape, size, color, and number. And they just stared down at the little sheep.

While they were accustomed to having so many eyes on them, this was completely different.

These eyes certainly didn't belong to any follower of theirs.

What if this was a trap?

What if-?

"Welcome, little Lamb! Promised liberator of the Old Faith!"

Looking upwards, they could see you descending from the darkness. You looked like a tradition chimera: a lion, goat, dragon, and snake all mixed into one. Both of your heads smiled as you took a seat upon your throne, although you frowned a bit upon realizing how poor the lighting must have been.

"Oh forgive me, it is awful dim in here, isn't it? Hold on one moment." Your lion head breathed out a small blast of fire, aimed towards a nearby candle that lit up.

That set off a chain reaction which lit up dozens of other candles around your lair, and burned the torches bright enough for Lamb to see what all those eyes belonged to:

Crowns.

So many crowns.

Big and small, black and white, one-eyed and two-eyed..and even multi-eyed; some sported horns and some did not. Others had bare surfaces while others were decorated with jewels or marred with scars from time.

It was an astonishing sight, and when Lamb looked back up at you, they could see a crown on each of your heads--snake tail included.

Not to mention your seat was adorned with four familiar ones...

"So you..take crowns from fallen gods?"

"Do I take them?" You repeated, before laughing uproariously. "No, but I can see why you'd assume that. I'm [y/n], Maker of the Crowns."

They blinked. "You created the crowns?"

"I have since the first gods ruled over these lands." You chuckled, taking the Green Crown into your paw. "I mold them into a design of my liking, give them life, and then send them off into the world to find a worthy host. They're like my children, so I do get sentimental at times...but I know they'll do great things."

'Huh...Leshy did say the crown found him..' Lamb mused.

"Of all the ones I've created, though, I never thought to see the Bishops' crowns again. But they were in such terrible condition...falling apart, barely able to keep their eyes open....I couldn't believe it." Your gaze shifted down to the sheep. "You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?"

They tensed. "...well...um-"

"Haha! I only jest, Lamb. I know everything." You smiled reassuringly. "I've sensed strong spikes in their energy, and I'm well aware they've been used as aids for the bishops after Narinder's betrayal. Speaking of whom...."

Pausing, you outstretched your paws towards them. "I see the Red Crown has found a new master."

"It's a long story, but--hey!!" All of the sudden, the Red Crown slipped out of their hands, morphing back into its normal form as it began floating up to you. They were shocked and angered, feeling extremely vulnerable without it. "What are you doing?!"

"Nothing, little one. It came to me all on its own. Welcome home, my darling." With the crown nestled into your paw, your smile grew as its eye stared back up at you with happiness. You sighed and brought it closer to your cheek, allowing it to nuzzle up to you. "Oh how I've missed you, mighty crown of Death. I'm glad you have not forgotten me."

"Give it back!!" Lamb snarled, baring their sharp teeth as they tried storming up to your throne. But their little hooves kept slipping on the skull pile that served as its foundation, and they eventually tumbled downwards, landing on their rear. "I need it back right now!"

"...are they always like this?" You muttered to the Red Crown, who just rolled its pupil in response. "Huh, I thought so. Arrogant, entitled, paranoid....just like your first master-"

"Don't compare us." They scowled. "Narinder was worse than arrogant...he would have destroyed this entire world, along with you and all these crowns if I returned it to him! We are NOTHING alike."

"Hm, I see I've touched a nerve. My apologies. I just wanted to take care of this little chip in its horn." Smiling, you manifested some black ichor to seal the crack you discovered on the crown, before sharpening up its horns a little bit. "There. Much better."

"....thank you. Now may I have it back?" Lamb put their hand out, growing more anxious with each passing second they were separated from it. 'Why isn't it returning to me?"

"It doesn't see why it has to right at this very moment...and quite frankly, I don't either. It's not connected to your lifeforce. You're still standing without it-"

"Because I'm its new master! I gave it new purpose. I gave it freedom...and it should be obeying me unconditionally and I don't understand why it's being so stubborn. That crown wouldn't be anywhere NEAR as powerful if it weren't for-!!"

"Choose your next words carefully," you tutted, shaking your head as you gestured to the walls. "My children do not look it, but they too have ears."

Falling silent, they looked all around, noticing that the crowns were now glaring at them. They tensed up, a feeling of heavy discomfort and embarrassment washing over them as they slowly realized how childish they were acting.

And in front of the crown creator, of all people?

"Tell me..do you see the crown as nothing without you? Or perhaps you feel like you are nothing without the crown?"

"........"

"Your mistake, little lamb, is that you see crowns as simple tools to do your bidding. A conduit for your godhood. But do not forget, they are also living breathing creatures like you and I." You chastised. "As such, they deserve respect. I figured you would've been more grateful to meet their maker...such few have the privilege to enter my lair and receive such a warm welcome."

The Red Crown bobbed up and down in agreement, before it scowled down at Lamb, as though to say "you better listen to them and treat me better".

They just looked at the ground, unable to form words as shame creeped up their spine.

You sighed softly. "I understand your worries as a new god. The mere thought of separation from it drives you to rage, especially after what happened between you and Narinder. But I have no desire to take it from you. Not when you've fought so hard for it. All I wish is that you continue caring for it."

"....I'm sorry, Great Crown Maker.." Lamb muttered, finally letting themselves be humbled. "I don't mean to act like I did. It's just...he's been annoying me all day today, shouting about "divine right" and making my life a living hell. He still can't accept that it chose me over him.."

They felt the familiar and comforting weight of the Red Crown returning to the wool atop their head, but they only looked up at you with respect. "Thank you."

"Of course, young one." You nodded, smiling once more. "Narinder has possessed that crown since he was a wee little kit, so it's going to be quite a long time before he lets that grudge go. Perhaps in a hundred years, give or take."

"I understand...so.." Lamb looked around. "Do you have any wares?"

"Oh, plenty!" You clapped your paws together. "Feel free to take a gander! Since this is your first visit, you may have one of the tarot cards over there on the house. But just know that the crowns aren't for sale."

[youryanderedaddy]

Give, Take, Borrow

Summary: You wake up in Bane's castle. Chaos ensues. Sequel to Love, Loss, Fire. Commissioned piece. tw: nsfw, female reader, non - con, captivity, possessive behavior, vampires, degradation, threats, choking, spanking, mind break

Your eyes scanned the room for any sense of familiarity - for a sight of dust, of color, of imperfection; of humanity. But there was nothing for you to take in. The walls were covered in gold and rubies, and the smell of velvet and blood tainted the heavy air with pure sin. You looked down at yourself, shivering all over. You were completely bare, except for the flimsy silk robe covering your shoulders. The realization that he must have put it on you while you were unconscious left you with a sense of cold dread, but you didn’t have the courage to think beyond that. 

The room was empty, for better or worse. You were feeling dizzy and disoriented, and one quick look at the clock confirmed your fears - it was already well past midnight. You had slept for more than 20 hours, your body completely exhausted after the attack. You took a deep breath before brushing the warm blanket aside - you couldn’t keep hiding forever, even if the thought of facing the monster made your skin crawl.

You stepped on the soft fluffy carpet, enjoying the way it felt against your cold feet - but then you stared deeper into the fabric and recognised it as bear fur. Frowning, you stepped aside as the disgust washed over you. So you weren’t the only prize in the lion’s den - you were just the one left breathing. For now.

Eventually you managed to reach the mirror after crawling around, scared as can be. Terrified to look at the state the vampire had left you in. You slowly let the gown slip past your shoulders, revealing your naked figure. Staring back at you was an unrecognizable face and a body that didn’t seem to belong to you anymore. The black - blue bruises and red bloody hickeys stuck to your skin like a cruel reminder of your new reality. 

You couldn’t stand to look at yourself anymore so you averted your gaze to the table. There was placed a small porcelain plate, filled with cheese and grapes, along with a thin glass of red wine. Next to it there was a note drenched in thick black ink - so thick it was seeping through the paper onto the fine wood underneath. It read “You can find me in the ballroom.”, but the splashes of blood all over made it clear that the real command behind it was “Come find me in the ballroom. Or else.” 

Inhale. Exhale. You had to keep a clear mind - as of now you were the only one you could trust. Lost were the days when you could use another person’s warmth. You were on your own, caged by the enemy.

Your attention was drawn to the chair next to the bed. On it carefully laid was the most beautiful dress you had ever seen - long and delicate with thin golden embroidery sewn into the sleeves, and a tight corset that left little to the imagination. It wasn’t hard to guess who left it here for you to find. The vampire was probably anticipating your arrival by now, picturing you all dressed up for him like a little doll. Too bad that you would rather die before giving into his twisted desires for a second time.

You tried to look around for your own clothes, but soon remembered that they had been destroyed the night before. You had no choice - you had to go through the closet. You grabbed the first white shirt you could find, as well as a pair of brown pants. They didn’t exactly fit properly, too big on your frame, but it was still better than wearing the dress Bane had picked out for you. 

You finally reached for the doorknob, hesitating for a moment. You didn’t want to obey the noble’s demand, but you were starving - you hadn’t eaten in days. Besides, you already knew the vampire’s nature - if you were to rebel, he would simply come and drag you away, kicking and screaming. At least this way you retained some level of control over the situation. You got to choose when, where and how he got to play with you; not the other way around.

* * *

You found yourself lost between hundreds of similar looking corridors, all either purple or red, equally grand, even posh. You had to stop yourself from staring at every single painting, photo or antique on the way - but the absolute abundance of the labyrinth made you feel like it was specifically designed to both fascinate and confuse. And just like that, out of the blue someone yanked your arm and shoved you into the nearest wall with little care about your fragile human body.

“What do we have here?” The stranger stepped outside of the shadows, and even before you could see his face, you already felt uneasy. “Seems like a pretty little human. How amusing.” His companion, the one who attacked you, responded swiftly, and the nasal purr in his voice set all the alarms in your mind off. You had to get away - quickly.

You tried to squirm out of the grasp, but the vampire holding you was simply too strong. The room echoed their nasty, mocking chuckles and you could feel their cold hands running down your body at the same time - groping at your hips, your chest, your thighs; their fingers wrapping your hair into a fist and pulling. 

“Not so fast, pretty girl.” One of the nobles hissed in your ear as he bared your throat, preparing to sink his fangs deep into the warm, blood - filled flesh. And then you heard it - your scream. A deep, guttural scream that reached the ceiling and bounced off the chandelier. 

Not even a second later you found yourself freed, and fell to the ground, breathing heavily. You looked up to see a familiar face extending a strong, muscular hand towards you. And you took it, albeit gingerly.

“Is everything alright, gentlemen?” Bane asserted rather than asked, leaning against the wall. His presence was cold and perfectly collected, the oppressive air around him dominating over his subordinates’ evident bloodlust - the only sign of annoyance hidden behind his crimson orbs. Immediately the two men straightened their backs, appearing docile - obedient before their master as they nodded to no end, too scared to make a sound. You wanted to laugh, but the little voice telling you that you were no different from them made it die down at your throat. 

“Great. You’re free to go now.” The hunter smiled, and your heart dropped. You had never seen such a cold smile before - a smile that could kill. It didn’t take long for the vampires to leave in a hurry, mouthing excuses, dumbfounded and ashamed. Now it was just you and your captor, alone in the endless corridor with no way out, his undivided attention on you once again. You gulped dryly.

“You left me alone.” You were the first to break the silence, looking around awkwardly. It was silly to feel shy at this very moment - you had fought that man, he had seen you at your most vulnerable, panting and helpless. And the situation wasn’t all that different now. You were still vulnerable. You were still helpless before him.

“I thought you didn’t want me around.” The monster replied, playfully raising one eyebrow - yet the coldness didn’t leave his eyes. It always stuck like a permanent reminder not to trust the demon. 

“And yet you called for me.” You snapped back, clicking your tongue. It was easier to give into your frustration than to bare your fears in front of him. “The note?” Bane pretended to think about it for a second, but it was obviously just a game of tag. “That was simply a suggestion, my darling.” He chuckled, and you whispered “bullshit” - but even if he heard it, he didn’t say anything, instead opting for offering you his forearm. You took it, sighing. It was going to be a long evening. 

* * *

The noble lead you to the table, pulling the chair and gesturing for you to sit. You rolled your eyes, but complied - you were so starved you felt like you would do anything for some food. Fortunately, the table was filled up - meats, sweets, fruits, candy, tarts, puddings, liquor… Anything your heart could desire, just like he had promised that night. 

Bane crossed his hands, tilting his head to the side - and just like that a glass of wine appeared between his thin fingers. He smirked at your agape expression.

“Go on.” He looked straight at you as he took a big sip. “Explain yourself, dear. Humor me.” He drowned the glass hungrily, licking his lips - his teeth so white they seemed to glow in the dark with a dangerous light. Alluring. Entrancing. “W-who-what are you talking about?” You stumbled over your words, completely puzzled. “I am talking about you, of course. You’re wandering half naked, carrying around the sweetest fucking scent in a castle full of vampires.” The vampire gave you a crooked grin, and you could feel your cheeks getting warm and your head fuzzy. 

“You’re either stupid…” He clicked his fingers and his glass filled up with wine again. “Brave…” He paused to play with the glass. “Or looking for attention.” The glass started shattering under the pressure of his fingers, the broken pieces cutting into his skin - but he didn’t seem to care as he let it fall to the ground. “So which one is it, hm?” His eyes were pinning you in place, unable to move as if hypnotized again. “Answer carefully, little one. My jealousy can be… destructive.”

You blinked twice, unable to believe he was actually accusing you of asking for this unwanted attention. “I was just trying to find the dining hall!” You tried to explain, growing agitated. “It was never my intention to run into those bloodsucking bas–”

“How am I supposed to believe that now, hmm?” The predator cut you off, the ghost of a smile haunting his lips as he teleported right in front of you. Your heart was beating like crazy. “If I hadn’t interfered, it would have been their hands feeling you up right now.” He roughly squeezed your shoulder as if trying to bring you down. “Their hands touching what’s mine.” His expression darkened in the split of an eye, making you shiver all over. “What rightfully belongs to me.” You winced, the pain becoming too much to bear. You opened your mouth, but didn’t know what to say.

“Why didn’t you wear the dress I left for you, pet?” The hunter growled, loosening his grip on you - yet taking a step closer at the same time. Now he was simply towering over you, his shadow hiding you from the outside world. 

“I am not a-ah doll you can just dress up however y-you want!” You declared, putting on a brave face - but the shakiness in your voice made it sound just like a whimsical little whine. Bane put his hands around the handles of the chair, caging you in. The atmosphere suddenly grew quiet and sinister. “And do you feel better now, love?” He smiled maliciously. “Wearing my clothes?”

You froze in place. His clothes?

“I didn’t know they were yours–” You started, but his cold breath down your neck made you go silent - limbless. “Of course you fucking didn’t.” Bane hissed, his hips buckling against nothing - you could see the bulge in his pants, and your cheeks instantly reddened. “Do you know how much you smell like me right now?” He groaned, eyes glowing scarlet in the dark of the marble room. “Have you got any idea just how ravishing you look?” He whispered lowly, revealing his fangs to your throat - coming so close you could feel the sharp tips graze against the sensitive skin.

“You may think it’s a coincidence… but it’s really not.” His fangs were dancing over your trembling flesh, too faint to pierce through. “You see, darling, your core has been calling out to me since the day we met.” His fingers entangled into your hair, caressing it gently. “It wants to be taken. Claimed.” You closed your eyes, anticipating the scorching hot pain and then… nothing. Bane let go of you.

Oh how he loved playing with his food - you were starting to see the pattern. You would have been pissed if you weren’t shaking like a leaf, teary - eyed and all. You took yet another deep breath.

“Oh, relax, darling.” The noble mocked, shoving a salver towards you. “I simply can’t have you so soon. That would be terribly rude.” He laughed to himself, taking a step back. You wanted to kill him, and yet your stupid heart wouldn’t stop racing beyond control. “I am a gentleman after all.” He followed your gaze to the plate in front of you. “Here, take a bite.” He commanded, unexplainable excitement in his eyes. 

You were scared to indulge in the feast, and yet the meat looked so good. So soft and buttery on an empty stomach. You finally gained the courage to bite into it, your face distorting into a grimace the moment the taste hit your tongue. It was raw. Bloody and raw. 

The vampire smiled.

“I wanna go home.” You let out a snuffling sob, covering your face with your sleeve. “Please, you have to let me go. I can’t live like this.” You pleaded with your eyes open wide, softening your gaze to appear even more pitiful - for a moment you tried to forget you were dealing with a cold, unforgiving monster. “And where will you go, dear girl?” Bane hummed, not bothering to even look at you. “Your parents are dead and your so - called friends are probably being sold as blood slaves as we speak.” He smiled to himself in a mysterious way, as if reminiscing. 

“Besides, all the territories around your home are stormed by high officials. All cruel bastards, mind you - can’t say we’re the best of friends. Too brutish for my taste really.” He put his hands together, voice sweet as honey. “Do you know what they’d do to a pretty, defenseless little thing like you?” The hunter asked, crossing his arms. You gulped, unsure if you were supposed to answer. 

“They can’t be worse than you.” You snapped, clenching your fists. Just the mention of your closest people and their bitter fate made your whole body burn like an open wound. “At least they would quickly kill me.” You uttered with venom, hoping it would hurt him the way he had hurt you so many times already. “Without forcing me to play house first.” You continued, a smug, self assured grin finding its way to your tired face. In a way you did feel proud of yourself. The noble, on the hand, was silent - he hadn’t lost his mischievous cheerfulness, but there was a certain uncontained vengeance in his eyes. 

“Shall we play a little game, dearest?” He whispered, reaching out to hold your hand - gently. “You seem to think that you’d be happier without me.” He squeezed down on your wrist slightly, applying just enough pressure to keep your eyes on his moving, threatening lips. “Even death is better than my love, right?” You shook your head, suddenly feeling cornered and exposed. “Oh, don’t go back on your word now, darling. You said it yourself.” He chuckled cruelly. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. In fact I think I will give you a chance to rid yourself of me.” He tilted his head playfully. “Aren’t I so generous?”

Your eyes lit up despite your best efforts to keep a poker face. “You’re playing with me again.” You decided to test the waters, squinting. “When have I lied to you, baby?” The man purred as his hands stretched to the side, revealing his muscles. Your eyes narrowed - you weren’t convinced. “I am serious. Listen to me now - because I won’t repeat myself. I will give you a thirty - second head start. You can run as fast as you can. Or you can sit in the corner and cry for all I care. But if you truly know what’s good for you, you will find a way out of the forest.” He asserted, a little smile dancing on his lips. You bit yours, looking away as the tension grew so heavy you could feel it against your chest, beating the air out of your lungs.

“And if I don’t?” You mumbled, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer to your question. “Let your fantasy run wild.” His grin turned predatory. You could feel your palms sweating - but what other choice did you have? You had nothing to lose anymore. You inhaled deeply. “Catch me, demon.” You declared, high off the sudden adrenaline rush, and perhaps even a bit of dumb courage. “Catch me if you can.”

* * *

You were up on your feet and running before the vampire even started chanting those deadly numbers. The last memory you had was of him smirking sadistically - licking his lips as if already tasting your skin on his fangs. You went through countless doors, corridors and floors, but just that bitter little frame stuck at the bottom of your foggy brain was enough to send electricity up your body, fueling you to keep moving - never slowing down or looking back. And it all paid off, because after what felt like hours you somehow made your way out of the castle. The gates were wide open, as if waiting for you. The guards were under a deep trance. Bane, for once, was keeping his word - and giving you fair play. 

You looked around - every road led to the Cursed Forest, so you had no choice. You tried to recollect the map you had put together a few weeks ago while you were still on the run. If your mind wasn’t lying to you, the territories outside of the forest were neutral - they belonged to neither the humans nor the vampires, a war - free zone. If only you could get there before the monster caught up to you, freedom wouldn't be just a dream.

Shots fired, you took towards the old trees with a bold step. The oaks hugged you tightly, casting an ethereal shadow - hiding your steps. The song of the ravens stiffened and slowly died down. All the woodpeckers and owls returned to their hollows. Life stilled, poisoned by your humanity. Suddenly a prickly vine wrapped around your leg and you tripped, shortly falling down across a pile of dry leaves and twigs. You winced at the sharp pain, timidly looking down. Fuck.

Your ankle was bleeding, pierced by a thorn - but not just any thorn, an enchanted one; which meant only one thing. The venom was going to spread all over your leg in the next five seconds, dull and throbbing, and make it impossible to move around quickly. But even scarier was the fact that you could already hear heavy steps coming closer and closer, circling you in. 

“Just when I needed a drink.” A voice spoke out from the pitch black darkness, but it wasn’t your enemy’s. This voice was softer, silkier. It belonged to a fox-like predator rather than a demon. “Oh, you’re a pretty one at that.” The stranger exclaimed, coming closer. You crawled back with difficulty, but you were no match for the vampire who simply teleported right in front of you with inhuman speed. “We are going to have so much fun, bunny, you and I.” He whispered hungrily, grabbing your chin to expose your neck. How unlucky could you possibly be, running from one predator and falling right into another. You wanted to cry, but instead clenched your eyes tight, holding back the hot tears. If you were about to die, you were going to do so with dignity.

“Let go of her right now, Carter.” A growl echoed through the forest, raw and reeking of violence. You opened your eyes, gasping as you saw a very angry Bane sprinting towards you - but he wasn’t looking at you. His focus was entirely on the man who had attacked you. “Let her go or I swear I am going to gut you and burn you at the stake with my own two hands.” The hunter cursed loudly, forming a fist. You had never seen him so mad, so out of control - he had always been smug, calm and collected - even in the face of danger. Now he was so enraged his voice was practically shaking.

“Now this is interesting.” The stranger chuckled, tightening his grasp on you. “What is she to you, Baney?” He squeezed your jaw painfully, forcing you to look at him, an unreadable mischievous expression on his face. “A lover perhaps? Or just a shiny new toy?” He paused to send a threatening glare towards the noble. “It doesn’t matter to me, really. I found her first.” His finger traced the outline of your lips and you had to restrain yourself from biting his index off. “And we both know the Cursed lands are under my father’s reign.” A vicious chuckle escaped his throat. “Should have kept your dog on a tighter leash, duke.” Carter teased, letting his sharpened fangs rest against your jugular.

Bane looked almost as pained as you - his eyes hardened, softened, then hardened again. Completely black.

“Please, Smith.” Your captor uttered after a long moment of silence, tone breathy and full of… fear. “I will do anything. Just don’t hurt her.” He pleaded, fighting his own pride just to say those words - and then kept his back straight even as the prince laughed in response, full of mockery. “Anything?” The man repeated with a grin, his eyes lighting up eerily. The hunter mouthed “anything” back, seemingly dazed. “I will remember that, Edwards. You owe me big time.” He hissed, roughly shoving you towards the noble. He in turn nodded with his brows narrowed, catching you in his arms. 

Bane started dragging you off the bushes right away and you just let him, too tired and scared to fight. You almost died, and the scene kept replaying in your head over and over again. You just realized you were shaking, barely moving forwards. Your legs were staggering in place and the vampire was pulling you along. And just like that the tears were back - hot, burning, bursting out of your eyes like waterfalls.

“Bane, I am sorry.” You sniveled pitifully, trying to soften the blow. You didn’t even want to imagine what was going through the vampire’s head right now - just what tortures he had in store for you since you had failed, and you were undeniably his now. His to abuse, punish or forgive - and you were begging for the latter. “I was stupid, I shouldn’t have tried to–”

“Tried to what, huh?” Your enemy snorted, turning back to glare at you, eyes still fully black with red lines across the orb. “Tried to escape me? Tried to run away and then what exactly?” He laughed cruelly, a twinge of mania hidden behind his condescending tone. “Get it into your thick skull already - you’re nothing without me. You’re just a weak, fragile, breakable little girl who only survived for so long because I happened to find your clumsy attempts at rebelling amusing.” He snarled, violently pushing you against a tree before reaching for your collar and just pulling until you were forced to stand on your tip-toes - and even like that you were still so tiny compared to the monster. 

“T-that’s… that’s not true!” You started off, chest flushing with panic as you failed to keep him at distance. “I am not weak! I can survive on my own if you just let me!” You cried out, your head getting dizzy with humiliation. You didn’t know what hurt more - the insults or the physical force restraining you.

“Oh, of course, princess.” Bane grunted, sarcastic to the bone. His face looked completely overtaken by darkness, and a deep desire to rip into something soft and helpless. “You are so fucking strong, aren’t you? That’s why I had to save your ass twice, right? Why I had to bargain with my father’s biggest enemy? Because you’re just oh-so good at handling yourself, yeah?!” He kept taunting you, egging himself on - he found sick satisfaction in watching your little face twist in pain and regret. He wanted to hurt you the way you had hurt him when you chose to go along with the game. It was a test, and you failed tremendously. 

“Go on now.” The vampire whispered at last, tone suddenly low and diabolically sinister. “Show me just how strong you are.” He barked, pinning your hands above your head in a tight aching grip. He wanted you sore - he wanted you to learn once and for all that there was no fighting this, no escaping this fate. No way out of his love and obsession for you. “Come on, little girl.” He hissed, grabbing your bloody thigh and pressing in just the right place - staring in fascination as the blood poured out, dripping into a small puddle. “Show me what you’re made of.” 

“It h-hurts, Bane, please stop.” You sobbed, trying to pull your leg away - but your tormentor held it tightly against his chest. “Tsk, you’re hopeless. Can’t even handle a little pain.” He clicked his tongue playfully, but there was nothing jolly about his expression, much less the obvious bloodlust your agony seemed to fire up inside him. “Stay still, okay, pet?” The duke cooed, sharpening his teeth. “I wouldn’t want you to lose your pretty legs now.” He purred, imitating care. “But then again, maybe that’s what it’ll take to keep you with me.” A dark, guttural chuckle escaped his lips as the tips of his fangs grazed against your battered, throbbing skin.

“Bane, I am sorry!” You whimpered, desperation tugging at your heartstrings, the voice inside your head screaming at you to do whatever it takes to leave the scene unscathed. “I am sorry, please believe me.” You let the shameful tears fall down your cheeks, leaving them red and puffy. “You were right… I need you.” You sighed heavily, biting your tongue, so close to losing your sanity you could taste the madness along with the blood. “Oh, I need you.” You repeated through wet, misty eyelashes - and the world seemed glittery and shiny again.

“Not good enough, doll.” The predator scoffed, but soon let go of your leg, opting instead for your bare neck. His fist wrapped around it, squeezing at the pulse points. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to use you. I am going to make you feel dirty - disgusting even.” He tore your pants with ease, feral with need. “And I don’t want to hear a sound.” Your underwear was next to go, lost to the abyss of darkness and mud. “Today is about my pleasure and your obedience.” He took off his belt and fastened it around your sore wrists, paying little attention to your pathetic little whines. 

“N-no…” You uttered weakly, shivering as your body got exposed to the biting cold. “You knew what was going to happen if I caught you, no use complaining now.” Bane reminded you with a stern look as he brashly spread your legs and wrapped them around his hips. You could feel his throbbing manhood twitch against your entrance, and you instinctively tried to hide, but your muscles didn’t move an inch. 

The vampire spat on his hand, using it to stroke his cock to hardness - almost giddy at the mental image of his pre - cum painting your folds white. He shoved two rough fingers inside you, thrusting half - heartedly, and quickly pulled out - he still wanted you to feel the burn as he stretched you beyond belief. “That’s enough foreplay for a naughty, disobedient pet.” The noble remarked bitterly, pushing himself all the way inside you with two sharp moves of his hips. You didn’t have time to adjust to his massive length properly - you were forced to stay still and just take in every agonizing inch dragging against your tight channel. 

“Fuck, darling, you feel like heaven.”  Your enemy groaned quietly as your walls closed around his member, spasming involuntarily. “Humans… s-shit, humans say that love shouldn’t hurt but–” His grip around your throat tightened, making you choke on thin air. “I can’t help it when your pain is so fucking delicious.” He blabbered, drunk off lust, only stopping to pull out half - way and buckle into you again, tip brushing against your raw cervix and making you scream.

“Shhh.” The predator covered your mouth to muffle the sound, and his hand connected to your ass with a loud smack. “Oh, baby, your hole tightened just now.” He moaned, groping your blushing buttocks. You went white with embarrassment - this was too much for you. “I should make your ass bright red - it’s not like you don’t deserve it.”

You shook your head frantically, to which he simply grinned, amused by your fear. “Say you love me.” The vampire demanded out of the blue, voice lowering sinisterly. You opened your mouth, but the lack of air and his fingers gripping your chin made it hard to speak clearly - but the man wasn’t too concerned about your struggles. He hit you again, this time using more force. “When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it, slut.” The perverse slap of skin on skin pierced through the silence, sending you into a rabid frenzy.

“Eh wuv yh.” You mumbled in short breaths, the only thing on your mind being survival. “I can’t fucking hear you, sweetheart.” Bane jeered mockingly, enjoying the way you debased yourself to please him. After he got enough of your muffled whimpers, he finally let you breathe. “I love you. I love you. I love you, Bane.” You cried out like a broken record, fully submitting to his wicked torment. You felt his fist wrap around your locks and prepared to feel the pain - but instead he gently caressed you. 

“Good girl. Such a doll for me. I am so proud of you, princess.” He kissed your sweaty forehead, wiping off your tears. “Now be a darling and stay still while I fill you up, okay?”

[riaki]

santa claus and his treats | satoru gojo x f!reader pt.1 of christmas event! wc: 3.4k oops i went overboard | cw: petnames, literally j pure fluff ur both STUPID in love, he’s the cutest! happy birthday pretty boy 🧸

"'toru?" you called, voice filling the dimly lit room as you peeked your head in through the door. the curtains were drawn, the iridescent green tinsel dotted with soft yellow lights framing the doorway of your bedroom scratching your neck as you spotted the white-haired boy sitting on your shared bed, picking at something on his lower lip.

you took a moment to drink in the sight— his soft white hair that fell over dazzling sky-blue eyes, the color of the lake dotted with fragile crystalline snowflakes that melted into fresh spring streams that fed nature with new growth and fresh flower buds, a tangible warmth when his gaze fell on you and an easy smile stretched across his pink lips. a little too easy, you think. easy enough for you to miss the way he swipes a coffee brown crumb from his cheek; the smile has too much sugar and cream for you to buy it.

your eyes slowly drift from his charming grin to the rest of the room. there's a forest green tuft of leaves hanging from the ceiling on a thin golden string; you recognize the crimson red berries and waxed leaves with spots of pearl dotting as a bunch of mistletoe, hanging right over the mattress. clearly, he thought ahead.

you snuff the flush from your cheeks as he perks up at the sight of you, straightening his back. "hey, baby! you must be my present from santa this year," he laughs, holding his arms out, an invitation for you to crawl into his arms and curl up on his lap like two warm cats by the fireplace. you almost gave in— until you remembered why you were looking for him.

"you're getting coal this time, satoru." you said, huffing as you walked over to the mattress and put your hands on your hips, attempting to come off as intimidating in front of your boyfriend as you leaned over and stared down at him. he just giggled that sweet, boyish laughter of his, scooting closer and capturing you between two strong arms to tug you onto the bed with him. the sheets were soft, and they smelled like him as he pulled you onto his lap and cuddled you like a life-sized plushie, all warmth and soft comfort that he craved so much.

"aww, really? but it's my birthday today," he sighed loudly, shaking his head as he firmly planted his hands on either side of your head to prevent you from worming away and planting a loud smooch on the top of your hair, before laughing as you pulled away from his grasp and gave him a glare. “besides, you’re anything but a bad gift.” he smiles.

“don’t sweet talk me, ‘toru. you’ve been naughty this year.” he wiggles his eyebrows at that, and you shoot him a sharp glare which just earns you a light scoff, but there’s a smile mirrored on both of your lips.

(maybe they’ve met so many times in the past that they know how to copy the other flawlessly.)

"but you're already here, my love. lookin' all pretty like the angel on top of our tree." he hums, crossing his legs and holding his ankles as he rocks back and forth; the teddy bear he won you from the arcade on your first date is face planted into the pillows by his side, donning a festive red santa hat. the white fluffy pom pom looks like satoru's hair, and you stifle a laugh at the thought.

"how kind of you, satoru." and you mean it— he looks like his own christmas angel; snowy hair and pretty blue eyes clad in a loose black tee with cheap printed red and green christmas lights over his chest. he looks unfairly attractive with those gray sweatpants on, too. you wouldn't mind wrapping him up in yellow ribbon and presenting him to your parents this year as your holiday present from santa, and then having your own fun with him later. you suppose you must've been perfectly good to land him; so pretty and fun, bubbling laughter that speaks of his care in volumes. and he’s their soon-to-be son-in-law, after all. and he’s a golden catch.

but it’s time for this white betta to be put in his place; he’s gone snooping where he shouldn’t have— or rather, scavenging would be the more appropriate choice. and he’s about to be skinned for entering the lion(fish)'s den. your matching red-green plaid pajama pants won't save him this time.

"sorry, baby, but you can't talk yourself out of this one." you said firmly, scooting closer to him as you sat back on your knees and gave him a look as pointed and narrow as the icicles melting on the frosted awnings. to anyone else, you might look like a wet, angry cat— but to satoru, it was enough to strike fear straight into the center of his heart. his fight-or-flight response kicked in (it only ever did with you)— and it was as if you could see the change in his demeanor. his eyes voluntarily softened, lids drooping as a lazy smile drifted over his lips like fluffy white clouds over a pale sun on a winter's morning.

"aww, don't be like that. my princess looks so much prettier when she's happy," he coos, all milk and honey as he reaches out and catches your wrist, rubbing his thumb over your pulse beating beneath your soft skin as he brings it to his lips and kisses your knuckles. so he chooses to fight, and you almost fold— almost.

you twist your arm in his grasp, eliciting a whiny yelp of pain; getting him to let go of you as you quickly flick his forehead. even so, he lets you-- he never turns infinity on around you, even at the price of his own sanctity.

you sighed when he gave you a dramatic pout, sticking out his bottom lip as he hung his head low in defeat like a golden retriever being scolded by his owner, soft hair falling over his pretty blues. his hands come up to cradle his head, rubbing the spot where you'd knicked him. "don't play around, satoru. where are the cookies i baked last night?" you asked, reflecting his frown with a pointed glare. if looks could cut, he'd be a red christmas on the cloudlike sheets. you were tired of beating around the bush, especially when satoru had a knack for making it utterly exhausting. nevertheless, it went on.

"maybe santa came early," he quipped, giggling at his own joke. "you never know, huh? he's an unpredictable old geezer. likes his milk and cookies, or so i heard."

"didn't know santa claus had the six eyes." you deadpanned, crossing your arms over your chest and looking him square in the eyes. "and he shaved his beard off, apparently." he feigns hurt, holding a hand over his heart in mock anguish.

"i'm no thief! it hurts me to know you think of me so low, sweetheart." he sighs dramatically, shaking his head. outside, the snowy wind howls in agreement. "besides, it's my birthday. you're suffocating the spirit, honey." he drawls.

you just roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms and shifting to sit closer to him. you will your irritated expression to soften, and it's reflected in the way satoru immediately relaxes, shoulders sagging as the anxious look in his eyes vanishes like the wilting ghost of fall on a christmas eve, leaving behind the scent of bluebells and frost on the wind. he thinks you've forgiven him.

that's just what you need. for him to let his guard down so you can spring the trap on him. santa may be able to get away with his yearly trespassing, but satoru's entered the property of more than your heart this time, and it's time for his holiday retribution.

"give me your hand, satoru." you said softly, voice barely a breath above a whisper. he obliges almost immediately, scooting closer on the bed so that his knees graze against yours, and you hear him suck in a little breath at the contact as your hand finds his.

you take his palm in your own; his hands are considerably bigger than yours, but you still manage to run a thumb over the ridges of his knuckles, gently massaging the soft skin over weary bones. a sweet little noise leaves his breathless lips; it's almost like a purr, and when you glance up at him he's almost as red as the glittering velvet bulbs dangling from the primmed branches of your christmas tree. he looks away, a subtle pout weighing down on his lips as he coughs loudly, as if the amber sap of a pine tree has caught in his throat, scratchy like tree bark.

"what are you doing?" he whispers, voice rough and hoarse, like someone took a fireplace stoker and poked his throat. almost a protest.

but you can feel him melting into you, and soon enough, he’s sandwiched you between his warmth and the fluffy blankets, the scent of apples and cinnamon weaved between the strands of his soft white hair as they tickle your flushed skin. his lips are soft and pliant and warm against your own; he's all over you, hands finding your wrists to trace tender, wobbly circles over your thrumming pulse with his thumb. he's robbing your lungs of air, needy in the way he cages you between his lanky limbs, lock and key with his free hand threading through your hair. he can never get enough of you, and he throws his inhibitions to the frostbitten wind if they mean learning to resist you.

it's spread around you like ripples on the surface of a misty lake, and when he draws away to stare down at you, eyes blown wide with a certain shine in his eye that reminds you of glowing embers, jumping from the lively blossom of fire on the grated dark metal of a hearth, there's a cheeky lopsided grin on his glossy lips. his fingers are slender, pale and callused, a gentle flushed at the tips.

"there was a mistletoe," he says breathlessly, as if that'll excuse him. as if he needs an excuse to kiss you. you just laugh, reaching up to trace his jaw with a finger, and he shudders despite the heater inside your room. the bunch of green leaves and red berries hanging above you sways in agreement.

but you can't focus on the dreamy look on his face; that lazy smile that dances over his lips and illuminates his features like twinkling christmas lights catching on each edge of a carefully cut snowflake, the sky's jewels. every time he looks at you as if you've crafted each intricacy of his world; patched the colors together and taught the light to reflect, you feel as though there are bubbles in your throat, and you have to cough them away when they're accompanied by a familiar rush of heat to your face.

it's all overpowered. strongly, by the rich taste of cinnamon. rich, sweet, distinctly festive, mixed with brown sugar and cookie batter; flour on the matching aprons satoru bought for the two of you, except the 'he' on 'he cooks' has been messily crossed out and replaced with a scribble that says 'she', and vice versa. it's on his tongue, his lips, the little dips on the corner of his mouth that makes him look like a kitten every time he grins. it tastes like wearing matching christmas sweaters, sampling sweet treats fresh out of the oven and laughing cheerily in your little cozy kitchen of warmth when he burns his tongue, a sour look on his face that wrinkles his nosebridge.

but, most importantly, it tastes like condemnation.

you sit up, briefly (and painfully) knocking foreheads with him when he's too slow to mirror your actions, but the complaint that's ready to stain the air like chimney soot dies on his tongue when he sees the look on your face. you look the same as you did the first time you found out he'd forgotten to pick up megumi and tsumiki from school. in other words, pissed.

"hey, pretty girl. you should smile; you look less like an ogre when you do—" he hastily starts, laughing nervously as he runs his hands through his messy hair. you've noticed that whenever you neglect to toy with the silky soft strands when you're tangled with him, whether it be kissing, cuddling, or... something else, he'll do it afterward as if to emulate the feeling of your fingers in his hair, even if it 'screws it up'. apparently, his skyscraper ego is too fragile to ask for headscratches.

"just a minute, satoru." you cut him off through gritted teeth, lips that should be stretched in a wide smile pressed together in frustration. your eyes narrow as you straighten up, sitting back on your ankles. "you ate them, didn't you?" your fingers dig into his skin, pinching his cheek. if his skin wasn't already stained crimson with boyish excitement, it would be an angry red now. you give killer pinches; he knows firsthand.

which is why he should've thought ahead and listened to the angel on his shoulder when you were knocked out earlier, curled up in a fluffy blanket on the couch, snoozing away. what was he to do? the cookies you'd made were calling his name. and it was for his birthday, and they were made for him. so why couldn't he indulge?

this was why.

and you know you've pinned him with your accusation like a throwing dart on a cork board; the way his gaze bounces around the room and his smile turns a hint sheepish and a handful guilty speaks volumes enough before he can even protest. but he can feel your wrath like an entire mine's worth of coal in his stockings, so he quickly throws his hands up, shimmying away from your angry pinch. the sheets bunch beneath him.

"listen, sweets, i just thought that— well, i'm sorry, baby, they just looked so good. and i only ate a few! i swear." satoru says solemnly, getting on his knees and throwing himself before you. he knows you're unamused— sitting there, crosslegged, looking down at him as if he's some chewed up gum you found on the bottom of your shoe. he might as well be. blueberry flavored, maybe? or mint, he's fine with that too—

"so you did." you just sigh, flicking his hunched shoulders, before you go soft again, and he sees pink. you reach forward, fingers creeping beneath his chin to tilt his face up. his skin is soft and warm beneath your skin, thrumming with a life and heat the poor overworked radiator in your room could never measure up to. and when he does look up, his starstruck gaze meets your own; you look ethereal in the warm light, and he wonders why he hasn't put a ring on your finger or started a family with you yet. maybe that can be the last gift to top off the cake of your overflowing knitted stocking, hanging from the kitchen counter; a mahogany box with golden hinges who's shine pales in comparison to the diamond ring in the center of the velvet.

he tucks the idea into his mental notes and grins, a cheeky flash of teeth. "so you forgive me, right?"

wrong. he should know better than to push his luck. especially when it comes to you.

the hand beneath his chin creeps up his face to squeeze his cheeks together, forcing his lips to pucker like a fish out of water as he tries to escape to no avail. you glare down at him, all needles. not at all in the holiday spirit, if you ask him. his face is squishy as a pillow beneath your fingers, and a smile resurfaces on your lips after a long struggle to keep it submerged.

he opens his mouth, no doubt to wail like a newborn, and you quickly withdraw, knowing better than to continue your assault. "geez! okay, fine. sorry. i ate them, you grinch." he grumbles, rubbing his squished cheek as he pouts and looks away, shrinking in on himself. his shirt is bundled beneath his arms, slipping off one of his shoulders to expose a pleasant flush on his neck. "seriously! you're such a killjoy. there's no fun in waiting," he smiles mischievously, wiggling his toes and nudging you with his foot. the fabric of his fuzzy reindeer socks bumps against your thigh, and you make another face at the red pom poms on the crudely-knit rudolph face.

"apologize." you emphasize each syllable, letting them fall off your tongue. they jut into his side like blows to his ribs; he falls back onto the bed for extra dramatics, letting it squeak beneath his weight.

"oh, the horror! to think that i'd be reduced to such a state—"

"satoru."

"—that i, head of the gojo clan, the honored one—”

"satoru gojo."

"should be forced to bow to such pious customs at the foot of scrooge—"

"gojo!"

you reach over to threateningly pinch him again, and he rolls away, tossing a fuzzy pillow into the air and kicking it at you like he's playing some cursed form of tennis. you scowl, catching the cushion and tossing it back at him. it lands square on his face, and he whines, crying about how you've ruined his beautiful, youthfully full, gorgeous face; how is he ever going to pretend to be santa and let pretty girls sit on his lap now? —and that one earns him another pinch to his arm.

"okay, okay! i'm sorry, my love. you're not the grinch, or scrooge, and i shouldn'tve eaten the cookies." he sighs, excruciatingly slow as he inches towards you again, wary of but wanting your warmth all the same. it's too cold to be alone this morning, anyway.

"without me." you corrected, unable to wipe the light grin from your face, and you watch as his face lights up, like a kid seeing his dream christmas present in the window display of a bright shop, hidden behind frosted glass and cold air.

he sits up again, scooting close and opening his arms once more. this time, you oblige, throwing yourself onto him and wrapping your arms around his neck. now he’s the one with his back flush against the mattress, soft as a cloud of cotton candy. he laughs, and it rumbles through his chest when his hands find the back of your head and he tucks your head beneath his chin, cradling your neck.

"without—" punctuated with a kiss to the top of your head, "you." satoru finishes, and you can hear the grin in his voice, cheery as a christmas carole. his arms snake around your waist, squeezing lightly as one hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt to gently rub your back. his fingers against your skin feels like the touch of a butterfly, wings like stained glass.

"how about this, pretty? we can make more together." he suggests, resting his chin on top of your head. you're smushed into his chest, the printed material of his christmas light t-shirt scratching your face, and the only thing you can manage to breathe is the cheap cologne you bought him (you don't understand why he uses it when he could afford the best of his own), but suddenly you can't bring yourself to mind. so you nod, and he chuckles.

"d'ya still wanna do cinnamon?" he asks softly, slipping his free hand into your hair to play with the strands, holding you close and cozy in his embrace. the burning heat of friction between your numb hands or a roaring fireplace don't compare to the warmth he brings you, soft and sweet and painfully human. and you can't really make yourself feel upset at the pretty boy with snow-white hair holding you anymore.

"nah. let's do peanut butter chocolate chip." you hum, muffled, and he laughs, hearty and full, the kind that makes his entire body tremble a little. and you can feel it, so you tilt your head up to peer up at him. there's a stray pine needle in his hair; must've been from your hazardously decorated christmas tree. he looks down at you and smiles, brushing your hair from your eyes and leaning in to kiss your forehead. it’s like a crimson wax stamp sealing his love letter to you.

he cuddles you close, tufts of his soft hair tickling your face like a tacky christmas sweater. "sounds unhealthy. but whatever you want, baby. santa's gonna give you all you ask this year." and this time, he doesn't use the mistletoe as an excuse to brush his lips against yours when you move to pick the pine needle from his hair. he smells like vanilla, swirled like espresso with a hint of cinnamon.

he may have enjoyed his cookies and milk without you, but there's nowhere else he’d rather be— no one else he'd rather share the rest of his time with, be it baking, decorating, or lazy naps in each other’s arms. after all, half the jolliness of the holiday season comes from being with you.

fish analogies went crazy… happy bday gojo !!! my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[candycandy00]

Roses in the Sky - An Original Alien x Reader Story Part 1

In a future where humanity huddles in decaying domed cities controlled by alien invaders, you and your best friend Anna work as make-shift nurses in a tiny clinic run by the young doctor Terrian. The city is ruled by the aliens' violent, half-breed offspring who serve as brutal overseers. You and Anna have always tried to avoid these overseers at all cost, but your life is changed when one of those same terrifying offspring is brought into the clinic, injured and unconscious.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

This is an original Alien (well half alien) x Fem Reader story! I hope everyone who enjoys my fanfiction will give this a shot! I’m posting the first chapter just to check for interest. Any feedback whatsoever would be loved! I’ve already written this story so it’s not going to delay my fanfics. Just thought I might post chapters of this between fanfics if anyone is interested.

Slow burn, as this is a novel-length story, but there will be smut in later chapters! Also: violence, blood, rape attempts, death of side characters, etc.

The sky was red, and you hated it. You hated more the fact that you couldn't remember what it looked like when it was blue. The whole city looked like it was coated in blood. You saw enough blood already.

You walked along the littered, decaying streets of Gallica with a blue duffel bag on your shoulder. You kept the hood of your gray jacket pulled down over your head and your hands buried in your pockets. Standing out was never a good idea, at least not where they could see.

As you rounded a corner, you were suddenly sprayed with red liquid, and you only dared to steal a quick glance down the alley it came from. A body was tumbling to the ground, and you didn't even have time to see who it was or what sort of wound had drawn such a huge amount of blood. Your eyes had been drawn, in that brief moment, to the pair of black-clad figures standing frighteningly still beside the body. Their bi-colored eyes flicked upward, toward you, but you returned your gaze to the street in front of you and walked quickly away.

Your heart pounded and your hands trembled in your pockets until you were far enough down the street to safely assume they would not stop you. You knew what happened to those unlucky enough to somehow provoke the half-breeds, regardless of intention, so you hurried along toward the clinic without looking back once.

When you reached the small, rundown clinic, you were met at the door by a girl in a nurse's uniform who placed her hands on her hips and scowled at you. “You're late!”

You pushed by her and dropped the duffel bag from your shoulder, flopping it onto a nearby cot. You unzipped it and pulled out your own uniform. "My alarm clock didn't go off."

The other girl stood leaning in the door way as you stepped into an empty patient slot and slid the dirty curtain closed. "Terrian is gonna be pissed at you,” she said. 

You emerged from behind the curtain in a white button-up shirt that was a little too tight and a skirt that was way too short. “He'll get over it."

"Yeah, as soon as he see's you."

You laughed. "You're jealous, Anna."

"Because that perverted freak lets you get away with anything?" Anna asked. She was so petite that even the smallest, tightest uniforms Terrian had given them seemed to fit her just right.

"No, because I look better in the uniform."

Both of you laughed as you laid out your supplies on rickety metal tables, organizing them neatly into categories according to how often they were used. The alcohol, thread, and needles were first in line, followed by bandages, then ointments and creams.

The door leading to the main treatment room flung open and a man with shoulder-length, pale blonde hair tied into a short ponytail walked in. He wore wide-rimmed glasses and a lab coat covered in blood stains. He looked angry as he approached, glaring at you, but suddenly froze when he rounded the metal tables and the full length of you came into view.

He smiled brightly, wrapping you into a hug. "You wore it today!"

Anna rolled her eyes and brushed her bangs, the longest part of her auburn hair, away from her face with her hand.

You pulled free from Terrian and adjusted your ill-fitting clothes. "It's the only uniform I had clean."

"And it's my favorite," Terrian said, then glanced toward Anna. "Stingy Anna always wears pants, even though I beg her to wear the skirt with the slit up the side."

Anna gave him a dirty look and he gave her a grin in return. He looked over the supplies then held out a thick stack of papers. "Look at all this. These are all patients who left the clinic in the last month and haven't returned for their checkups. Next week I'll be making a lot of house calls."

Both you and Anna frowned. You hated it when Terrian made house calls. He was the only doctor at the clinic, and you two were the only nurses. Things were hectic enough with the three of you, but when he was gone, the clinic was thrown into absolute chaos.

"Anyway," he spoke up, "we have a lot of patients waiting already. Let's get to work!"

You and Anna had no formal training, had not even finished high school, but you had both been living on the streets three years ago when Terrian approached you about working for him. He taught you two the basics, and the rest you learned over time. In this city, injured people couldn't be picky.

Together, you and Anna wheeled your metal supply tables through the swinging doors into the main treatment area of the clinic. Cots were lined up in two rows, facing each other, for the entire length of the large room. There was only enough room for one person to walk between each cot, and all but a few were occupied. People were moaning, screaming, crying, or unconscious. Anyone not in mortal danger was sent home after being stitched or bandaged up.

Illnesses were not often treated, as serious diseases were most often fatal no matter what the doctor did, but injuries were extremely common. Blood dripped from nearly every cot in the room, and a few patients were bandaged to the point of looking like mummies. You and Anna had both learned quickly to develop strong stomachs.

The two of you were checking on a patient that had been brought in last night with a chopped off leg when Terrian came zooming past you, pushing a stretcher.

"Emergency surgery!" he called, disappearing into the room you had just changed in.

You both dropped what you were doing and ran after him, then stopped dead in your tracks as soon as you were through the doors, staring at the figure on the stretcher.

"Doctor, that's... one of them,” Anna said, her voice almost a whisper. 

The man on the stretcher wore an ornate military uniform - black pants and a long black jacket with golden buttons up the front and matching trim along the cuffs and collar. The uniform was instantly recognizable to every single person in the city, because only they wore them. His skin was ghostly white and his hair a jet-black mess scattered across his face.

Terrian was ripping that glorious black uniform from the man’s motionless body. "I know what he is, Anna, but he's still a patient. And right now, he's dying unless we can stop the bleeding."

You and Anna hesitated just inside the door, looking at each other and then back to the man. Anna shook her head. "I can't... I can't help him. Not after all they've done."

Terrian stopped and looked at her. At first, you were sure he would scold her, but he merely sighed and nodded. "I understand. Go tend to the other patients."

You watched the other girl leave, then turned to Terrian. He looked at you with a pleading expression. "He'll be dead within the hour if we don't do anything."

You took a deep breath, then rushed over to Terrian's side. He held out his hands while you poured alcohol over them, then rinsed your own. Looking down at the young man, he seemed fragile, vulnerable. Almost human. His torso was exposed, revealing a long, deep cut across his abdomen that was gushing out blood. Funny how his body was absolutely impeccable, toned to lean perfection and resembling a stone statue, but marred by that huge red gash.

The cut was so long, and the bleeding so severe, that each of you began stitching on separate ends of the wound so that you would meet in the middle to tie things off. A sloppy job, yes, but the fastest route to closing the wound. He would heal faster than normal people, would probably be fine in a matter of hours, but only if you stopped the bleeding.

Once you and the doctor were finished, you again cleaned the wound and Terrian began bandaging the patient up. "Amazing, isn't it?" he asked when he was done, "It won't even leave a scar. Not on him."

You washed your hands in the nearby sink and thought of Anna. "It's not fair."

"Of course it's not," Terrian told you, wiping the blood from his hands on a stained towel. "Nothing in this world ever is.”

You dried your hands and walked again through the swinging doors. Anna was changing the bandages on a young girl's arm, but looked up when you approached. "How could you stand it? Helping that thing?"

"I didn't enjoy it, okay? But he would've died. This is a clinic, Anna. We're supposed to help dying people."

Anna stood up and stepped away from the young girl's bedside. "Yeah, people. Not them."

"But he's half human, isn't he? Isn't that enough?"

Anna snorted. "Was that enough to stop those creatures from barging into my house and slitting my mom's throat? Was it enough to stop them from crushing my brother's head under their boots? Was it enough to stop them from... from what they did to me?!"

You went silent. You didn't know what to say. You knew the half-breeds had killed most of Anna's family, but you had yet to hear any details before now. Finally, you reached out and took the other girl's hand. "I'm sorry, Anna. I'm really sorry."

Anna pulled you into a hug. "I know. I'm sorry I jumped down your throat. I just don't want to see you be hurt by them too."

"I don't think he's in a position to hurt anyone right now," you told her after you separated. "He's not even conscious."

Anna looked toward the swinging doors. "Be careful. Even when they look harmless, they're still dangerous."

You nodded, and wheeled your cart over to the other side of the room. You stopped at the bed of an elderly man who was missing both his feet. He was sweating and breathing heavily. You took his blood pressure and wrote the results in a tablet. He looked up at you with astonishingly kind eyes.

"If the nurses look like this, I'm gonna have to get my feet cut off more often," he said with a chuckle.

You pulled back the sheet to check his bandages. "You sure are a charmer, Mr. Renaldo," you said as you began unrolling the strips of cloth.

"Don't believe a word he says!" Anna called across the room, "I told him yesterday he could hold my hand while Terrian stitched him up and he said he'd rather hold my ass!"

Rhoswen stopped cleaning the bloody stumps where feet used to be long enough to lightly slap his shoulder. "You shameless flirt!"

He laughed and looked at the man in the bed next to him, who didn't seem to be in such good spirits. "Can't blame me for trying, can you?"

The other man gave a weak smile and looked away.

"Now now, let's not disturb the other patients," you said gently.

"Everybody's so glum. That's what those damn Pagoda want," he said.

You finished his bandages and patted him on the arm. You bent down and whispered to him, "Thanks for cheering us up, Mr. Renaldo."

The next few hours went by steadily but quickly, as you made your way around the room checking on people, giving out soup, changing bandages, and occasionally holding someone's hand while Terrian performed some sort of painful procedure.

Unfortunately, pain relievers were as rare and expensive as genuine jewels were in the olden days, when the sky was still blue. The only way to put a patient to sleep was to quite literally knock them out with a blunt instrument, which was a last resort.

The clinic was dirty and crowded and in shambles. The people were desperate, demanding, and understandably irritable. But you liked being there. You liked being with Anna and even Terrian, who could at least make you smile. You liked helping people who were suffering, because you enjoyed seeing a tiny flicker of hope in their eyes.

Because you could almost grasp a little bit of hope for yourself.

The clinic was all you had after your parents died. And everyday you dreaded returning to your tiny apartment where hope drained from every inch of you like red sun fading into black night. But at least you could always come back the next day, where you could laugh with Anna and everything else would fall away into dust.

It was almost time to go home, and all the patients had been taken care of. Anna left out the front door, not wanting to walk through the back room where she would have to see the lone patient on the stretcher.

You waved to Terrian, who was making one last run around the room to check everyone over, then walked into the back room. The young man was still unconscious and the rest of his clothes had been removed, a sheet draped over his body. You crept up to the stretcher and looked down, watching him breathe. After feeling certain that he was indeed unconscious, you walked into the empty patient slot you had changed in earlier and pulled the curtain closed.

You couldn't walk home in your uniform, as it was dangerous enough for a girl to be alone on the streets in the evenings, but wearing an outfit like that was a definite no. You quickly pulled it off, then reached for your jeans. But before you could even unfold them, you heard the curtain suddenly fly open.

You whirled around in anger, certain that perverted Terrian would be standing there grinning like an idiot. But you were not met with the smiling doctor, but the cold, expressionless face of the now conscious patient. His eyes, one blue and the other lime-green, bore into you, unblinking.

He was completely naked, save for the bandage across his abdomen, and you tried your best to keep your eyes on his face.

You suddenly realized that you were only in your underwear, and backed up until you bumped into a cot, holding your jeans in front of you. The man’s eyes never left you, and your heart was pounding rapidly in your chest. You had never been face-to-face with a half-breed before, not in this close proximity.

There was a pause, where both of you stared at each other for several moments, not moving. Then, in the blink of an eye, the man lunged forward and was inches away from you. You jerked backward, inadvertently ramming yourself into the cot where the metal collided with your bare back. You dropped to your knees, wincing.

When you looked back up, the half-breed was looming over you, and suddenly reached out one hand toward you. You had seen what the hands of half-breeds could do, had treated many a patient who had somehow ran into one of them. In fact, just today you had bandaged up a woman who's left arm had been pulled right off, like the wings off a fly, by a half-breed.

You curled into a defensive ball and screamed, your horrified voice ringing out through the clinic and undoubtedly to the buildings nearby.

[yoredoesmore]

I Drink My Coffee With Blueberry Milk - A Taste of Your World | Hoshina Soshiro

From the very moment our eyes locked, I knew that there was something connecting us. Did you feel it too, Soshiro?

The red string pulling at both our fingers, only waiting to be discovered.

When you tugged on it I came, one step at a time, until we both stood face to face with one another.

Your world smelled like roasted coffee beans, strong and aromatic yet something about that strict and penetrating smell was alluring.

I found myself falling deeper and deeper into your life, until I was lost in the deep black.

Coffee normally has a bitter taste on my tongue, one that I cannot stand at all. So I cannot really explain why being with you tastes so sweet.

"With what would you like your coffee, Soshiro?"

I already felt it from afar, your curious and radiant presence. You carried yourself with such ease and joy, accepting every situation as it came. Stepping out of your shell, exploring your surroundings with attentive eyes while never forgetting yourself in the sweet mess of life–I found myself drawn to you more and more with every interaction that came.

The world painted you plain and simple, Y/n but what they failed to see was the tasteful explosion that would take anyone by surprise after experiencing the first sip of you.

It took me by surprise and colored my black and white world a light blue.

I cannot stand the taste of sweet, milky beverages on my tongue. So it makes no sense to me why I crave your existence to such an extent that not being with you drives me absolutely crazy..

"I'd like to try it with some blueberry milk, Y/n."

a/n: "I Drink My Coffee With Blueberry Milk" aka "IDMCWBM" is a small romance series that I'm starting! It's about Y/n and Soshiro who couldn't be more different in both taste and personality, yet still managed to find a way into each other's life.

this is a highschool AU, so expect it to be like your favorite shoujo romance anime! ^^

Please look forward to this little piece of fiction <3

[jungle-angel]

Head In The Clouds (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: When Bob makes love to you in the clouds, you swear it's the best thing ever (Greek Mythology AU)

Warnings: SMUT (18+ only, minors will be yeeted from this blog and blocked)

Tagging: @floydsmuse @sebsxphia @bobfloydsbabe and an especially big thank you to @attapullman as this is for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month!!!!! (lol).

At last, at long last you returned to your home in the clouds close to Mount Olympus, worn out from racing Ares and Apollo all day long on your black pegasus. The clouds had always been home for you and Bob, a place as wild and free as the forests on the earth below. Your fuzzy, fluffy little dream dragon ran right to you, curling around your legs and purring like a cat as if to welcome you home.

You saw Bob flying in just a moment later, fresh from helping Hermes on a mission for one of the Titans. Bob's sandaled feet touched down on the clouds as though they were solid ground, his snow white wings still unfurled like a pair of brilliant flags as he scooped you up in his strong arms.

"Missed you sweet cheeks," he said before planting a kiss on your lips.

You hummed into his kiss, reveling in the warmth that enveloped you. "I missed you too," you purred. "How'd everything go?"

"Better than ever," Bob answered. "Hyperion was more than happy to have the lamps working again and everybody made it home safe too."

You were relieved to say the least. Ever since the Titans had allied with the Olympians, things hadn't been better. You had yet to see the new island home of your distant ancestors, as did the rest of the Daggers, but Bob assured you that it would be something to look forward to going down the road.

You and Bob tended to your duties for the day, helping Hera, Poseidon and the others wherever you could until at last, night had begun to fall in the heavens. The moon and stars had all shined brightly as the creatures of the sky took to their cloud beds, curling up and drifting off to sleep along with your little fuzzy friend.

Bob couldn't help but stare off into that wild expanse of heaven, the deep sapphire blue skies making him sleepier than usual. He felt your arms sneaking their way around his waist as you pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for bed (y/n)?" he chuckled.

"Same can be said of you," you told him with a wry grin.

He pulled you into his arms, his deep blue eyes roaming over every trace of you as he pulled you into his strong but comforting embrace, breathing in your scent as though he had been away for longer.

In an instant you felt his warm lips on yours, kissing you gently and trailing from your lips to your jaw. You felt the tip of his tongue brushing against your skin, just tiny little licks at first, but as Bob began trialing down your neck, they became much more intense. A breathy little moan fell from your mouth as Bob kissed the curve of your neck.

"Shhhhh my love," he whispered. "Remember, somebody might hear us."

Bob gently guided you to the big mass of clouds that you both slept on every night, crooking a finger to beckon you closer. Your kissing became much more heated as his nimble fingers found the clasps on your copper colored tunic, drawing the thin, stringy straps down. The sheer fabric quickly fell, revealing your naked skin, pooling around your ankles as you helped Bob with his, the two of you never once breaking the kiss.

He laid you on your back, drawing a gasp as his rock hard cock found its way into your slick entrance. Bob watched with pure adoration as your eyes went wide and a gasp was drawn from your throat.

"Bob......?" you moaned.

"Hmm??"

You draw his hips against yours, creating a rhythm that made the little spot between your legs tingle with pleasure. "You like that?" he purred.

You nodded, a lazy smile playing with the corners of your mouth.

Bob slowly thrust his hips in and out of you, trailing kisses down your collarbone, taking great care to drag his tongue along the swells of your breasts and over your nipples. Bob swirled his tongue around them until they became pointed little dusty pink peaks.

"Bob......Bob.....p....please.....please....."

Your pleas were music to his ears as he dragged his tongue down to your navel, swirling it around and flicking it in and out. "My gorgeous wife," he groaned. "I love every bit of you and your body......."

Your moans grew louder as he spread your legs and kissed down the sensitive little spots on your inner thighs before going for the one spot that drove you crazy. His tongue worked its magic, flicking in circles, up, down and all around until you were a moaning mess.

"Bob.....Bob sweetie, I......I'm gonna......"

"Wait, wait for me sweetheart," he panted. "Hold on."

You moaned even louder when you suddenly felt him enter back into you, amazed at how fucking big he really was. He continued to thrust in and out of you, slowly, gently until both your hips jerked against each other, the both of you a fucked out, blissful mess.

Bob kissed your lips, his body heavy and relaxed against yours underneath him. "You're amazing, you know that?" he chuckled.

You laughed as he guided you down from the rest of your high, the clouds cool against your heat filled bodies. You and Bob lay in your bed of clouds, blissed out but relaxed and content as you explored each other's naked bodies, touching, kissing and caressing each other in the silvery moonlight.

"You get prettier every day (y/n)," he murmured sleepily. "You're everything to me."

You traced over his jaw, gently caressing his face. "And you're everything to me, Bob......you always will be."

Bob kissed you until you both fell asleep in each other's arms, never once letting each other go and waking up the same way, when the day began anew with the sun on your faces and the two of you together.