#yet every week I'm sitting here ready to be hurt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hollyhomburg · 9 months ago

Text

Before I leave you (Pt.67)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You and Hobi bury a dead body (That's a lie, Yoongi buries it for you).

Tags: blood, gore, body horror, death, dead bodies, everyone is pretty beat-up in this, brief implied self-harm but it's very quickly squashed- seriously it's nowhere near as bad as past scenes but i do have to tag it, Dissociation, tae is in the freeze part of fight or flight. hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns, flashbacks, discussions of past abusive relationships, everything is very fluffy until it's not,

W/c: 12.5k

A/N: Are you guys ready for Hoseok's secret reveal??? I'm really excited!!! But also terrified because this whole series has lead up to this point!!! A good number of people have already guessed his secret so congrats on getting it early <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Jimin sits on the stairs going down to the basement. His arm in a sling and bandaged up to the elbow. It aches with every small movement he makes as he peals a tangerine. He hasn't had any narcotics in a few hours and they're starting to wear off.

Jimin needs all of his brain power for this; For covering up the murder.

The fewer things running through his system the less sluggish and fuzzy his thoughts are. Jimin picks his poisons and fewer things make him less coherent than the panic and pain and near constant avalanche of thoughts. Tae, Tae's hurt, Tae's-

Tae's fine, Tae's upstairs with Y/n. he has to remind himself of these facts every few breaths. Tae's going to be okay because you wouldn't let anything happen to her.

There is evidence of that virtually everywhere; In the lines across your hands that Yoongi had dabbed at with a cool cloth, the swollen side of your jaw that he'd cradled. The blood drenching the opposite side of your face that he'd tenderly washed away. Not to mention the blood on the kitchen table, the floor, the ceiling. The blood splattered across your nest-

You don't fuck with an omega's nest; you don't fuck with their packmates.

Jimin quiets his brain with a steady breath as he looks down at Yoongi, Jin, and the body between the three of them wrapped in plastic.

He manages to peel the tangerine in his hand despite how uncooperative his left hand is. Numb at the fingertips just like it’s been since the surgery.

Namjoon had stroked his fingers and tested their give every chance he got, holding onto them and prodding while they waited in the hospital room and then again when Jimin got discharged. He said that they’d probably get better. Probably.

Tae's going to be fine because Namjoon is there too- had checked out her head with that soft alpha grumble croon of his. The most soothing sound in the world, and yet incapable of soothing this.

But Jimin knows nothing’s for certain, he might never get the feeling in his hand back. (This is Jimin's penance; The reminder of these tangled few weeks and how things went will be ever present. The reminder will be the first press of every touch with his non-dominant hand. He will never regain full feeling to the tips of his fingers. Never).

There are a few of noodle paw prints in the dust here, Jimin's ass is no doubt covered in it too from resting on the rickety stairs that lead into the half-finished basement. Little paw print marks that would make you coo and take pictures if you were down here.

But you’re not, you’re upstairs getting the evidence washed off of you.

No one's in that kind of mood right now anyway. No one’s been in that kind of mood for a few hours (or a few days, if he’s being honest, from Jungkook’s seizure, to getting shot, and then coming home to a dead body in their living room).

It’s been 4 hours since you killed someone in the kitchen. 3 hours since Jimin was discharged prematurely from the hospital and the rest of the pack was summoned home via a disturbingly calm call from Jin.

It’s been a tangle of moments even for the people not on hard drugs. Jimin feels like he's doing pretty good at answering the pack’s questions given the circumstances. You'd never know that, given Yoongi's eye roll and Jin's heavy sigh.

"Minnie- we're not asking you how you would have killed him just how you'd cover it up."

They used an old shower liner to wrap the body before they carried it downstairs. It makes a squeaky noise against Jin's rubber gloves (The pink elbow-high ones that he uses to do the dishes) as he pulls back the plastic sheet to reveal what's left of the assassin's head and face.

“I already told you, I don’t know his face- not even a little.” I’d have a pretty hard time identifying his face with the state she left it in regardless Is what he doesn't say.

Jimin tucks his chin, unsettled to look at the man's half-blown apart face for long. "I think he might be the spider but I don’t know. I never met him, only heard his name in passing.”

A small tattoo on the man's wrist reveals as much. A small spider tattoo that someone going to have to cut out and bury separately. Someone's going to have to get all of his teeth too- no identifying marks. None.

He’s a little too impressed with the state you’d left him in when he thinks about it. But once he’d seen your face and Hobi’s neck, not an inch of Jimin had felt the kill wasn’t justified. The whole pack feels that way, he knows they must even though they don't say it. Everyone's a little bit in shock right now.

Even Namjoon hadn’t even given the body a second glance when the pack had tumbled into the house. The pack alpha had simply alternated his fussing from you to Hobi to tae and then Jin. Torn between who needed him first. It was the first words Jimin had heard you speak. Your wet gasp, blood that wasn't yours flashing on your teeth. "Joonie- Hobi needs you."

Namjoon had calmed only once he realized that most of the blood on the three of you was the man’s. Yoongi had a similar reaction and so had Jimin, clutching at Tae. Angry at his arm for its uncooperativeness. About ready to tug off his sling and his bandages and stitches if it meant holding tae easier. He'd even tried it, only to be on the receiving end of a disapproving pack alpha growel too.

“Jimin you can’t; your stitches.”

“Fuck my stitches hyung.”

Numb fingers meet numb faces.

He's a bit ashamed of it, but when he first looked up from Tae to you- where you sat crumpled in Yoongi's hold. Your mate laying down a volley of sweet nothings to you to get you to stop shaking. There was only one sentence running through his head.

That’s my girl.

He'd reached over and squeezed your hand, blood and all. That blood has dried now. Soaked into the lines of his palm. Coloring his fate and love lines all rusty while he eats the tangerine. He should probably wash his hands. All of them probably need too.

Jungkook had been the only one willing to speak, closing the door softly behind him, locking it and treading softly closer. Careful to sidestep both the pools of blood and the piece of a skull sitting next to the couch. He looked down at the 7 of you with a surprisingly calm expression on his face.

"Can't we have one normal fucking day?"

Jungkook was the one who’d gone to the kitchen and gotten one of the hand towels to clean your face. His lips tightened to a line when he wiped away the blood and started to see the bruising, the cut across your temple dripping fresh. Lower lip wobbling ever so slightly.

“Kookie-”

Jungkook had turned to Jin and Namjoon, “I don’t want to deal with the body hyung." His hands were already under your arms, lifting you up, helpless. "Help me get them upstairs. We need to-” he’d let out a frustrated noise. Instincts coming to the full front- instincts he rarely feels.

Who knew blood would incur Jungkook's grooming instincts?

The last time Jimin saw Jungkook; He was helping Namjoon and Yoongi herd the three of you upstairs for a much-needed shower. Hobi hadn't been able to do it under his own power. Namjoon had to carry him.

Hobi; who's choked on every word he's tried to speak. Whose eyes are still red from all the burst blood vessels. Who easily got the closest to dying out of the four of you.

Everyone shakes when they touch Hobi and everyone touches him softly. Namjoon just about snaps his teeth at anyone who tries to get close. His hands turning red from the cold of an ice pack wrapped gently around the alpha's throat.

Jimin knows Jungkook's a lot more unnerved than he lets on, shuffling from foot to foot as he bound Tae up with a towel, taking her delicately from Jimin's arms. Carrying her in the same way Namjoon carried Hobi.

Yoongi was all soft helping you upstairs. Speaking in that quiet voice that he saves for Sunday mornings and stolen moments of quiet. Every moment, all of this is stolen.

And now- the beta is down here, leaning over the body and looking at it like it will tell him something that you won't. After your initial demand that Namjoon he tend to Hobi; you haven't spoken a word. Neither has Tae. Jin's done all of the talking.

There isn’t much to say.

Jimin feels the numbness in his hands and looks at Jin. He hasn't apologized for the bullet yet. But the more time that passes the less Jimin wants an apology. Mating marks come in many forms. Jimin has a scar on his body from one of his omega's- so really? What does he have to be upset about?

The whole house needs to be deep cleaned, and then deep cleaned again. There's blood everywhere; on the couch, the ceiling, the curtains. It's a lot to clean. It's going to be a lot to hide.

That's the only reason why Jimin's not upstairs helping you and Tae clean up right now; the body is unfortunately the biggest threat to the pack's safety at the moment.

There’s a bloodstain on the stairs too, a droplet next to where Jimin sits. he makes a mental note of it but doesn't move to wipe it up. He puts a tangerine slice on his tongue and chews before he answers Yoongi’s next question.

“I don’t know how to dispose of a body, I never dealt with this part. My only job was to kill, not take care of them after. I know there’s a way that you can do it with soap.”

Jin snorts, “You only know that from breaking bad-“

Jimin’s a little miffed, “We already have a plastic tub upstairs-”

“Lye,” Yoongi corrects, looking down at the body before he stoops to retape the plastic over the man's face. It was a bitch to wrap him up, the body stiff and heavy from rigor Mortis. The blood beneath it bubbles and darkens, coagulating. Yoongi's long hair falls over his face and he tucks it behind his ear.

“We could use the soap, but it might take a few days.” Jin clarifies.

“Do you think we can wait that long?”

“Absolutely not,” Jin’s got a similar ice pack to his wrists, the skin there bruised and red and swelling where he fought to get free from the handcuffs, where he eventually ripped down the banisters and broke through them with brute strength and panic.

You’d found the keys on the man’s body soon after and released him from the handcuffs, they're wrapped up in the plastic along with the frying pan, the gun that killed him, and a few other items from the living room that were just too bloodstained, every big piece of evidence will lie right beside him where he rests.

Jimin eats another slice of the tangerine, and Jin shrivels his nose at it. “Isn’t that a little gross?”

Yoongi mirrors his disgust. “Yeah Minnie, weren’t those covered in blood?”

But Jimin just shrugs, “I washed it and peeled it hyung” And keeps eating. After a few days of hospital food, the tangerines taste divine.

Yoongi stands from where he’s kneeling on his knees with a faint crack. “One part kitty litter, two parts concrete should keep out the smell,” Jin says, eyeing the 6 by-six-foot hole in the basement's foundation, already there from the plumbing that needed replacing.

Most of Yoongi's tools are down here too. His scrap pile of wood and the dozen bags of concrete. His hack saw and his circular saw that none of them are looking at. Yoongi had only just fit in the plumbing a few weeks ago. He'd been about to re-pour the foundation anyway.

“I’d rather not have a body buried in our house.”

Yoongi touches Jin’s wrist, so feather-light, removing the ice pack to check the swelling to see if it’s gone down. Jin's left hand is just as useless as Jimin's, the knuckles bruised and ballooned.

“It’s just for a few weeks, we can deal with this once it’s all calmed down, but we absolutely can’t go try and bury it. Who knows what the neighbors heard?”

They're all silent at that, silent at the idea that these few hours might be the last few that the pack spends free.

But over the next few hours, there are no blue and red flashing lights outside or concerned neighbors that come knocking. Your one saving grace is that this all happened during the middle of the day and all of your nearest neighbors have nine to five's. Is it so simple to hope that everyone was just at work? That no one heard the gunshots over the nearby roar of the passing train?

(Maybe they're just too used to the pack next door; the one that has the noisy ruts and noisy noisy packmates. The one whose alphas have a habit of opening the windows in the back room and let the sound of their roughhousing and video games flood the street. The ones who have extra loud movie nights. They're just a bunch of kids, how harmful could they really be? At least the pack alpha and omega look respectable.)

It's a good thing that no one comes; because Namjoon has more important problems, more important things to handle beyond the body in the basement or the police at the door.

Namjoon’s hands cradle Hobi’s neck. He wheeze as he tries to speak, his mouth falling open. He's mostly clean, but a rusty trickle of water from his hair trails down his shoulders.

Jungkook tugged him into the shower first and gave him a rough clean before handing him back to Namjoon. They sit on a towel together on the edge of the nest. they only moved him in here to give him some privacy- to distract him because Hobi kept reaching for you. you'd kept reaching back, tae was already in the shower under the stream.

"Pup- your hands- you're going to hurt yourself."

The Nestroom is dark and quiet. Every single blind in the house is draw. Only the christmas lights illuminate Hobi's injuries. Namjoon will tend to Tae and then you after he's checked out Hobi's injuries. will send him downstairs with Jin for some cold water to soothe his throat once he's done. once he's been cleaned again probably.

Hobi was covered with the most blood, having been just under the man when Tae had blown his throat apart while you- Namjoon doesn't want to think of it, doesn't want to see it.

(Namjoon thinks of every moment, sees them behind every blink. Blink and he sees you sitting in his lap over breakfast squirming happily. Blink and you're kneeling in a bloody puddle looking up at him.

Blink and you're curled up in the nest wearing the first pajama pants he'd given you. Blink and he's watching Jungkook dab at your bloody cheek, blink and you're turning into his hand to nuzzle as he wakes you for sunday morning breakfast. Blink and there’s sunlight spilling across your face and blood slipping down your chin. Namjoon's smallest and most sensitive pup not so innocent anymore.)

Namjoon touches Hobi's throat with no small amount of reverence. it cools the anger in his throat. Namjoon's anger has no good place to go.

When Hobi closes his eyes, he sees it too; the explosion of the bullet and the splat of blood pouring down his face. The shower earlier felt so similar- he almost couldn't handle it. He had to concentrate on Jungkook's voice narrating everything.

"Here Hobi, I'm gonna use some soap now. I like Tae's body wash. You know she always just picks whatever bottles are pinkest because she wants all her toiletries to match. It smells good, doesn't it? Can you take a deep breath for me? Through your nose?"

Endless meaningless Jibber jabber to distract all of them.

Now he shivers and shakes in Namjoon's hold. One part terror and one part near frostbite. Namjoon turns the heat up but Hobi still shakes as Namjoon checks his throat. "Open for me baby- that's a good boy."

He flashes a light down there, listening with his stethoscope. The cold metal end of it presses against his collarbones and the bruises too. Finger-shaped that lace over his jugular like a collar. Over Hobi's heart. Every thump ba-thump ba-thump music to Namjoon's ears.

Namjoon’s growl is soothing as he scoots closer to gather the injured alpha close to his chest. Shushing Hobi as he tries to speak for the dozenth time in the last hour. “Don’t try it, careful- I don’t think he did any lasting damage but-”

Namjoon breaks and his forehead drops to Hoseok’s shoulder, fingers rub out soothing circles on Hobi's wrist even as he starts to cry. Namjoon already stitched up the deep puncture wound there. He had to hold his wrist still as he dabbed the stingy antiseptic, the impulse to pull it away too great. The wound wasn't from a bullet but from the piece of the door that embedded itself in Hobi’s wrist. Blown apart the way he could have been.

Namjoon was so close to losing everything, to losing them.

The bruises, Hobi’s eyes, and his little raspy breaths. Everything both punishment and payment for every violent thing Namjoon wants to do. He feels powerless to do more than hold the smaller alpha right now. The strength in his arms doing little to protect Hobi from the hurts he's already nursing. Hoseok leans his head on Namjoon's shoulder and Just lets the alpha hold him.

If he’d come home to the four of you dead what would he have done? more accurately- What wouldn’t he have done?

Namjoon imagines it- the same way he's imagined it thousands of times. Tae's blood on her lips as pretty as any lip stain. Jin on the floor, his little big love wrapped up in permanent stillness like a mating shroud. Your body turned small and quiet the way you'd been when he'd met you- only so much worse. Hobi with his heart slow and absent of his near-constant music. Bodies stiff as statues, turned alters meant to worship both grief and love.

He’d probably have demanded Jimin and Yoongi tell him everything they knew. And then he’d have gone hunting.

Namjoon lets out a shaky breath and pulls away from Hoseok only to continue dabbing at his wounds. The violence of his alpha's instincts calmed by the sanctity of this- of making it better. of being gentle even when namjoon wants to be anything but.

Hoseok’s mute. Throat too swollen to make more than a soft hissing sound on command. Vocal cords not damaged just swollen. Leaving his brain to hurdle through the last few hours. Eyes closed but his mind wide open.

He sees it all behind his eyes; your hand descending with the frying pan, the explosion of wood near his head. The splat of hot blood against the wood floor. Gasping and getting blood in his mouth accidentally. Choking in it- drowning a little. Everything. The sting of smoke on his eyes. Your words ring in his ears like the final notes of a symphony.

“You can take me. I’ll go with you. Willingly. That’s what she wants isn’t it?”

Hoseok’s brain teases through what you might have meant with that. The unnamed she that you mention. Who, why, and what aren’t you telling them? Is it the woman that Yoongi talked to you about before?

He's unable to say anything to Namjoon even as the alpha softy cradles his damaged throat. Unable to even whisper it out through the swelling that threatens to cut off Hobi's airway. It feels like he's breathing through a straw. Namjoon says he's not going to choke, that it only feels that way. The panic is hard to let go of.

But who do you have to go back to there? You've never talked about the family like you wanted them, like they were your pack. Who have you run from? What monsters are here to haunt you? Who is after you? Or is it something darker- more sinister?

Maybe Hoseok's heart has never truly healed from Yoongi leaving them. Maybe a wounded heart remembers. Yoongi always had them to go back to that Hoseok had never questioned. But he's never wondered about you or stopped to consider that maybe, Yoongi's not the only one who left something.

The family doesn't exactly seem like something you can walk away from unscathed. Yoongi managed it, but Jimin didn't.

Hoseok should warn Namjoon, should tell someone but- it's impossible. His airway protesting with an agonizing twinge with every attempt he makes at speaking. He wonders if this is what being nonverbal felt like for you.

The pain pulses dully without adrenaline to dilute it as Namjoon so lovingly examines the marks, again and again. But he shouldn't be spending so much time. You and Tae are bruised and battered too- even if Hoseok’s are by far the worst; you need tending to.

Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival.

Hoseok thinks of the body, not the one that sits downstairs, but the one that you found months ago in the ocean. Maybe this wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe none of this was. How far back do the coincidences go? Between Jin and Yoongi who wouldn't have a relationship to stand on without Yoongi's family- how many other things in the pack are because of this?

Hoseok struggles to speak, to talk to Namjoon about what you'd almost done, what you'd almost bartered- but nothing but air comes out, and the pack alpha shushes him. His hands grip Namjoon's shoulders hard.

Namjoon wishes he had more than just numbing cream and sutures for Hobi’s hurts. Jimin’s already offered up some of his opioids for Hobi to sleep and as much as Namjoon hates the idea of anyone swapping medication- Hobi might actually need them.

Jimin’s doctor had been a little bit liberal with them, sure that his 6 on the pain scale had to be at least a 9. He could spare one or two. The truth is that nothing hurts more than this- seeing the people that you love in pain. Jimin and Namjoon save their 10s for days like this.

With the blood cooling, Namjoon’s anger has nowhere to go. The body in the basement has already gone cold.

In the quiet of the house they can audibly hear Seokjin and Yoongi start mixing the concrete. The dull scrape of a shovel against a bucket and the sound of a faucet dripping.

Namjoon wipes at Hobi’s throat, and Hoseok tries again- futile in his efforts to speak. Namjoon shushes him.

In the basement it goes; drip, scrape, drip.

~-~

Jungkook holds Tae up underneath the warm spray of water. The glass is foggy in places and clear and others, occasional spots of red water joining the constellation of them. She rests against Jungkook's chest, her body is prone and almost lifeless. Eyes vacant and glassy.

So shaky and tired as her body rockets down from its adrenaline high. A drop so abrupt that she could hardly hold herself up. A drop so terrifying that Jungkook must do it for her.

He doesn't mind, none of him minds as he cradles the back of her head oh so gently. Tae flinches, whether from pain or the sudden movement. Jungkook meets Jimin's eyes through the foggy glass and then yours. Biting his lower lip before Jimin nods and tells him to keep going.

Evidence is evidence. Washing off can’t wait.

Jimin has joined you upstairs with the body already packed away and on its way to being buried under the foundation of the house. Jimin watches on from outside the shower as he instructs Jungkook in a quiet voice on how to clean Tae of evidence properly. He's been quiet since then. Staring at them while Tae stares blankly back.

You watch them from where you sit. Mostly you just watch Tae. When Namjoon's body doesn’t block your view. He stitches the gash on your forehead, hands pulling the sutures closed in a gentle and practiced way. The pass of the needle through your skin a distant sensation.

The wounds on your hands are in that awkward place of not being deep enough for stitches but still a little too deep to not need something. After a brief debate, Namjoon sealed them with a bit of non-surgical glue that stung terribly and then regular gauze over the top.

Your hands are swelling and clotting. Scabbing although trying to touch anything is too painful. Closing your fingers at all hurts. Namjoon holds you so lightly it hardly feels like he's holding you at all.

Namjoon apologizes after every wince.

The second he’s done he tosses his suture kit into the bathroom sink with a clang the second he’s done. Namjoon gets on his knees before you. The plastic that covers the whole bathroom crackling as he does.

Jimin had the great idea to cover the bathroom with sheets of plastic to cut down on the cleanup. Hoseok's bloody footprints join Tae's trailing from the doorway to the shower. Join the trail that you left. Parts of you are still dripping.

"It's going to scar," Namjoon says, a little sadly. Thumb skimming over the mark on your forehead.

You swallow hard. You still taste blood. You want to brush your teeth; you want to shut the lights off and go to sleep. You want Noodle and you want Yoongi you want everything from the past few hours- the past few years to be gone and over with. You want-

You want to snap at him and tell him that it doesn't matter that it will scar. That you're covered with scars already and you don't care but-

Namjoon kisses your forehead. A lingering brush. The one spot that's not bloody.

You look over at Tae and her eyes flicker blankly to you. Jungkook keeps bringing the boar bristle brush up and down her back in soothing little circles.

When you turn back to Namjoon he's pursing his lips and blinking away tears as he looks down at your hands. You resist the urge to say you’re sorry. You’re not sure what for. The terrible feral hunger in you gone as quick as it's come.

Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the hollow of your knees, and you meet his eyes, even though you don’t want to. It feels too much like a confession already.

“I’m going to say this now, before you get any ideas; This is not your fault and I am not mad at you and Tae for doing what you did-”

“Namjoon-”

He continues on, words rushing out. “I’m proud of you pup, so proud. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I promise I won’t disappoint you again as pack alpha-” You cover his mouth with your hand, gauze and all.

The bit of gauze over your palm is already turning bloody. It's hard to tell if it's your blood or if it's his. You’re the last one to shower. The last one to get clean. Namjoon shouldn’t be touching you at all.

And yet he does, yet he cradles your face, brushes the tears from your cheeks, gets blood on his hands. Evidence is evidence, but love has a steeper sort of price if you don't express it when you can.

When you take your hand away, Namjoon doesn’t try to speak again. someone says something that you don't hear, that you can't hear.

Namjoon stands and when you look up, Jungkook has the shower door open for you.

Because the bandages and the glue on your hands can’t get wet Namjoon binds your hands with Ziplock bags and duct tape. The plastic rustles, and you follow Hobi's bloody footprints into Jungkook’s arms. Namjoon closes the door behind you.

Every bit of plastic is going to get melted down later, until all the blood and terror evaporates through something as simple and trivial as fire. Fire will cleanse it of all evidence, as sure as the burning water you step under.

You're not quite sure what you're going to do about the bullet holes in the walls or the blown-apart door to the upstairs bedroom, but Yoongi’s always had a handle on the home improvement stuff.

Jungkook helps you disrobe off your bloodied clothing. Lifting your shirt over your head and stooping, telling you to hold onto his shoulders so that he can take off your sweatpants. You're pretty sure they're Yoongi's but there's no time to get sentimental as he puts them inside a garbage bag along with Tae's and Hobi's clothes.

Everything on your person is evidence. When you look back Namjoon's gone, summoned by Jin's distant call from downstairs. It's just Jimin outside of the shower. watching you, but mostly watching Tae.

You’d be more self-conscious of your nude body if your brain wasn’t still racing. It’s hard to do much with the bags on your hands. But Jungkook squirts out a healthy dollop of your favorite shampoo and gets to work once the conditioner is in Tae’s hair. She sits like a discarded ball-jointed doll on the built-in bench. Her long hair hair stuck like a sheet over her eyes.

Nothing is as important as making sure you’re not found out. And the frothy shampoo turns rusty around Jungkook's fingers. You have to have a lot of blood on your face. All the water that rolls off of you goes pink.

Jungkook is gentle even by your hairline scratching against your scalp with his fingers. The skin there is tender. Namjoon taped a bit of gauze over the sutures too. You don't remember when he did that.

You make a noise. “Too rough?” his voice has something unreadable in it, something soft and concerned.

You don't respond because Yoongi makes his reappearance at the doorway. The black shirt he wears is dusty at the front from the concrete. His eyes single focused on you the second he enters the room. You stare at him the way that Tae stares at Jimin. Jungkook just huffs and pulls you a little more snugly against his chest.

Tae stands in the corner of the shower, still staring at Minnie. Minnie who stares back, practically not blinking. Both of their anguish are hidden behind glass. Like fish in tanks that could never get out. Not really.

Part of Tae gets washed away down the drain. Swirling and gurgling down and down with no one to notice.

Tae stares off blankly into space. Sometimes Jimin talks to her and sometimes he hums through the glass, he'd be in there too if his bandages couldn't get wet either. If Namjoon hadn’t yanked him back from the doorway and told him that he couldn't.

Jungkook takes the boar bristle brush to your body too. Everything has to be scrubbed multiple times until your skin feels nearly raw from it. Tae’s fingernails, her arms, your neck, the side of your face, the hollow at the inside of your arms. Your knees. Everywhere.

He apologizes when he goes over bruises, wincing, clutching you a little tighter, a little closer to make up for the pain. But Jungkook is meticulous as he cleans of evidence until you feel groomed clean. Until there’s no more blood swirling down the drain just clear water, and the light outside has turned pearly and blue in the twilight.

Tae's still silent. She's been quiet beyond the occasional heartbreaking whimper since you both killed that man. Eventually, You push at Jungkook's hands with a pointed look in her direction where she's slumped and he goes with a soft nod. Two omega's taking care of their alphas.

Jungkook’s delicate with Tae’s head, gentle in the way he cradles the bruising, half hidden by her hair. Washing out the conditioner with a quiet hum. Namjoon had diagnosed her with a concussion pretty quickly, it's not a crack in her skull plate but she's not going to go putting her hair up in a bun any time soon.

Jungkook alternates from you to Tae. One moment you're standing, the next Jungkook is taking you up gently from the floor and Yoongi is at the glass, hand on the door- looking at you anxiously. Letting out a volley of cursing. You can't remember the last time you heard him use language like that.

"Hyung she's fine- she's just slippery, I've got her."

Their voices are so soft and grave and so quiet. Or is it just that you can’t hear it? Why are their voices so far away and muffled? Sometimes Yoongi is here and sometimes he isn't. Sometimes Jungkook is holding you, talking to Namjoon about something, and other times he and Yoongi are talking. Keeping their voices low. Your ears ring. It's so loud it deafening.

“Do you need me to take over?” Yoongi asks Jungkook. Jungkook has blood on his feet, from you or Tae you’re not sure, it soaks the hair there. Jungkook’s got hairy fucking feet for an omega- you’re not sure why you’re concentrating on it. Why you’re noticing all these things now. Cataloging little things about them like you might never get the chance to notice them again.

Your heart beats quick, fear still consuming you even though the danger has passed. You look down at the tiled floor and the room spins.

You don’t feel a thing when you close your eyes. You don’t feel anything when you think of the man that you just killed. You don’t feel anything but roaring, like the crashing of the ocean or the sound when you lift your ear to a shell. The hearing in your left ear where the gun went off feels…off, muffled. You put your hand up to toy with it and freeze when you realize it isn't right.

"Guys" You paw at your ear. But they don't seem to hear you.

"No, I've got them.”

“We need to clean up the downstairs. Kookie, where do you keep the oxyclean?”

"Guys"

They still don't hear you. Maybe you're not making a sound at all just mouthing the words. Your movement gets Tae's attention and her eyes focus for the first time in hours. Slumped on the bench, her hand grips the tiled edge hard as she tries to stand but can't. Jungkook hands Yoongi something through the steam, the black trash bag full of bloody clothes.

The notice Tae trying to get to you first. she hits the floor with a small thud and tugs her way over to you. You make a noise in your throat- a distressed chirp that makes the alphas flinch. Tae cups your cheek as you dig your finger in, slippery from the plastic- and pull something small and fleshy out of your ear.

It's soft and squishy. A curved piece of pink and white brain matter. A little bloody but bleached from the water.

You try to stand to your feet but teeter, shaking, staring down at the chunk of person that you just got out of you, that was just in you.

For a second, no one says anything, but then-

“That’s so fucking gnarly.” Your head jerks up in Jungkook’s direction.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Tae actually does look a little green, but it's good to hear her voice at the very least. She hauls herself over to the drain and starts to dry heave.

"Oh tae don't-" the sound of vomit hitting the floor joins the sound of the shower. You don't look at her. just at the lump of person in your hand.

"Someone please take it from me," Jimin is already there opening the glass door and holding out a cloth for you to place it in.

Yoongi presses his hands to the glass as he watches you struggle to grab the brush that Jungkook was using on you from the floor after finally getting your feet under you. Jungkook is torn, his hand on Tae's shoulder as she wretches turning from her to you like he doesn't know what to do or who to help first.

You don't care about the state of your hands you just need to get clean. You Ignore the twinge of pain in your hands as you try and get the bottle of body wash open. Ripping off the plastic bags that cover your hands when you can't unclick the cap immediately. frustrated and panicking. You ignore Jimin calling your name. The gauze falls to the floor with a wet thwack and you take the boar bristle brush to your hands. Cuts and all.

Big hands stop you. Hands that dwarf yours. Hands that you'd know blind.

Yoongi's standing under the spray fully clothed, the water pinning down his hair and quickly soaking him. His hands tangling with yours, taking the brush from you. Wordless as he grabs your wrists and jerks you forward hard.

He holds on until you stop shaking. resting against his chest. guiding your face to his scent gland. "Take a deep breath for me now sweetheart- there you go- just like that."

Jungkook doesn't say anything and neither does Jimin, not as Yoongi starts to wash you again. Jungkook just stoops to lift Tae and place her back on the bench. She goes easy, limp, and doll-like. But she's almost done- she's almost clean. Tae pushes at Jungkook’s shoulders.

"I’m fine. I need to wait for the nausea to pass before I try getting out of here.”

With you, it's going to take a little longer.

Jungkook has already shampooed your hair, but he does it again. The telltale signs of rusty red in the peach-scented shampoo. Bubbling orange-pink. Yoongi does it slower, gentler- it feels more normal. Like the slow loving you're used to.

“Do you ever feel like-” your voice is a little crackly from all the screaming you did earlier. You hate how the terror makes you not remember all the details. Did you make any sound while you killed him? Did you say anything through the rage?

The others are looking at you but you have eyes for just Jimin. his hand tightens to fists, knuckles pressed against the glass. eyes darkening ever so slightly. “Do you ever not feel guilty? About killing people Minnie?”

You are nude, as bare as you’ve ever been before him, it's hard to be self-conscious about it. Maybe this would be a little sexier- showering with Tae and Jungkook and Yoongi with an audience if you weren't literally trying to cover up a very violent murder.

You remember the words Jimin had said to you weeks ago now. “Would you kill for me?” “I’d do worse” you wonder if this qualifies as worse. You can’t imagine what would be much worse than this.

Jungkook's hands are rough as they massage a bit of soap down your back but instead of being comforting, it feels like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin.

Jimin hums. Eyeing Tae still sprawled on the built-in bench. Jimin gathers his thoughts before he speaks. “In my contract, at the beginning-” He starts but cuts off as you start to slip. Jungkook's hands find you, helping Yoongi hold you up more properly. Your mate doesn't let Jungkook take you entirely just moves a bit to the side to give him space. Any other day you'd love to be in the middle of a yoonkook sandwich but-

“Your contract?” he nods, blond hair bobbing. Yoongi meticulously removes the dried blood from under your fingernails, careful to hold your glue sutures out of the direct spray.

“I specified that I’d only ever kill bad people. of course I got a little lazier after I got used to it." He shoots an anxious glance in Tae's direction, but she's still just sitting. "But at the beginning, I’d go back and look through their files to try to find out what they’d done to warrant a hit getting taken out on them. I couldn’t always find a reason but most of the time I did."

You can see it in his face, that Jimin doesn't want to say that they deserved it. Because if they deserved a violent ending then you could say the same about the 8 of you. Jungkook's hands get a little close to the nape of your neck and you turn to him and snap.

"Don't scruff me."

"Sorry." You need it. Is what he doesn't say.

“Most of the time it was worth it?” You cling to his words. With Geumjae you’d never had to guess if he deserved it or not but this-

Jimin’s eyebrows are brought into a hard line, “Karma is a fickle thing. Sometimes it never comes but-” his eyes are downcast, "Sometimes it's a good thing, being the karma."

You sit quietly, digesting his words. Your lower lip trembles, and you don’t know if you feel terrible or better when the tears just won’t come. Yoongi delicately cradles your body, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pulling you back against his chest.

“Yoongi.”

“Let me hold you for a minute.” You do, body sagging under the weight of your exhaustion.

Tae teeters in Jungkook’s hold, but she pushes against his hands weakly when he tries to make her stand again. Her voice sounds warbly and fragile when she shakes her head. “I’m still dizzy.”

He tries to guide her gently back to the bench, but she doesn't make it that far. Pushing away his hands when she descends to the marble floor. Closer to the wall, Closer to Minnie who mirrors her, falling to the floor too. Getting as closer to her as he can without being in the shower.

Jimin lets out a sad and bitter-sounding laugh and Tae smiles in reply while Jungkook and Yoongi share an anxious glance over your head.

He's still grinning, words twisting, eyes shining with sorrow and fondness. “You couldn’t wait 24 hours until you had to make it even, didn’t you?”

Tae closes her eyes as her smile twists and she starts to cry “Where you go, I go. We’re the same now Minnie.” Jimin doesn't mean to ask what she means. He knows.

If you're a killer I'm a killer. If you're damned, I'm damned. Even though neither of them believes in God or heaven or damnation. Not really. Not anymore. It's very half-hearted.

(I don't know if it's worth wondering if the people you love are bad people, I think when worse comes to worse, you just put the heaviness down and keep on loving them anyway).

Jimin’s eyes are soft on her, the way that they only ever are with Tae. He places his hand on the glass fogging around his fingertips. She doesn’t match his hands, just leans her cheek against it. Love is only a thin layer of glass away.

You know it hurts her a little bit, must make the dysphoria a little harder to breathe through, to let Jimin and Jungkook see her like this; just the long hair and nothing delicate to cloth her soul in. A soul that now you’ve irreparably tarnished.

A soul that is damaged beyond repair now thanks to you.

It is your fault. All of this is because of you. all of this pain and anguish and damage is because of the choices you've made. the stupid idiotic childish choices. If you'd never needed it- if you'd just been strong enough- Tae could have been whole. Tae could have been unharmed. Hobi and Jin too- if you’d just-

Back at the hospital, Tae had so many questions about Jimin’s job, so many questions about when and where, and why. But she finds her head empty of them in the aftermath. She has no desire to learn anything else about Jimin’s job. Not now that she knows what killing feels like.

Tae is never going to be able to look at red nail polish the same way again.

Jungkook reaches over and turns off the water.

~-~

Eventually, you finish washing. Wrapped up in fluffy white towels that will have to be burned too. The house smells like bleach and gunpowder. It covers everything.

Even the noodle is looking a little more grubby than usual when he zips by, meowing for someone to give him attention. You hear the saw going and you know that Yoongi is cutting the bullet holes out of the walls while the others clean up the blood.

Your skin feels pink and sensitive were the towel brushes as you go looking for pajamas, you'll get some for the others too. Later, Jin will fuss and ask to put some cream on you. Will massage it in something of an apology and pretend that Yoongi isn't going over the whole house with a blacklight to spot any errant blood splatters.

Later Yoongi will take a wood scraper to the floorboards where the man died, will rip them up, and burn them in the house's ancient fireplace just to be sure that no one finds any evidence.

You'll all pretend that Tae doesn't shake through a panic attack when you have an informal dinner in the nest. jin's rule of "no food in the nest" broken for this. You'll all pretend that Hoseok won't choke choking on all but the smallest sips of water. You'll all pretend. You're good pretenders, good liars too.

Later, Jin will put cream on your skin and dot it all with kisses, the swelling in his hands won't take too long to go down. You'll get the love and You won’t deserve a single second of it.

You don't know how you fooled yourself into thinking you ever deserved it. The last 8 months have been stolen. Not earned.

The one-year anniversary of Geumjae's death comes and passes as you go to the top of the stairs in your towel, Ears straining to hear what's going on downstairs.

There is a lot of talking going on downstairs, between Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin. About what to do, and how to handle this. Hushed voices kept mostly out of earshot. And other more dangerous questions get asked, with equally as dangerous answers.

One of Jimin's guns sits on the kitchen counter through all of it. No one moves to put it away. They're not sure when they're next going to need it and they'd rather not get caught off guard again.

“I could talk to some people- call them. Some people owe me favors, There has to be some section of the family that doesn’t want her too-“

"Absolutely Not, I am not having you get into some weird ass mafia debt"

"Yeah, jailcell orange is so not your color hyung"

“We stay quiet. For the next 48 hours- it’s likely no one will know what happened. They’re too hurt- we need some time to regroup and think.”

Hobi’s voice is absent from the fray. You hear something quite like he's trying to speak, and someone shushing him softly. Namjoon says that his swelling won’t go down enough to talk until tomorrow. You hear the sound of someone opening the refrigerator to get ice.

The door to the bedroom has been blown apart, and a flurry of bullet holes chewed through the top corner. It sits off its hinges and in two pieces.

You remember watching Yoongi paint the door, sitting at the bottom of the stairs while he worked at the top of it and painted it to match the wallpaper in the staircase, a dark cobalt blue. You remember all of it, every little thing you watched him do to make this house into something worthwhile. To make it into a home and now it's riddled with bullet holes and stained with blood.

It's funny, you hardly remember every little thing he did for you, to make you worthwhile.

You have always been a reminder that you don't make houses out of abandoned buildings, and mates out of monsters that bite.

The water has turned the cuts on your hands white and gummy when you look down at them in the closet room. They’re already oozing, not bleeding, it will be at least a day or two until you can touch anything without discomfort. Namjoon will scold you ever so gently later and re-do your bandages.

The pink curtains are drawn already to keep out any wandering eyes from the outside. This is a dressing room after all. The whole room feels like a blush-toned jewel box and you, the one piece of cheap costume jewelry at the center.

You get up and shut the door before you sit on a small poof- something silky and tufted that Jimin had gotten Tae right after she'd come out.

You sit in your towel and look down at your wounds. Thinking about Tae's concussion. Jin's wrists. Hobi's throat. Both of their blank looks and the violence of death and trying to live. You think it all through, every possible ending to this before you pick up your phone and dial Her number.

Moonbyul picks up on the first ring. It’s like she’s been waiting for your call.

“Did you like your courting present pup?”

Your throat is dry and you don’t know exactly what to say, even less how to say it. She hums at your silence, an alpha's imitation of a purr. Waiting until your quietness builds to a frantic pulse.

In the pack, you've always been the one with the best survival instincts. Geumjae made you this way. Although the pack has spent the last few months trying to heal you; deep down you know you've never been anything more than a scared animal. Fight or Flight. Freeze or fawn.

Bullet to bullet. Tooth to tooth. Heartbeat to heartbeat. This time is different. This time you have something worth protecting.

You stand, no longer able to sit. There is a noise at the door, and you wait with bated breath for someone to come in. They don't come. But you stand and move farther inside. Hoping that the distance will disguise the sound of your whispered conversation.

She continues when it becomes clear you're struggling to speak. “I’ve got another one on the way. Hyejin’s here, wanna say hello? You’re on speaker.”

“Pup,” she giggles, and you feel like you might vomit. It’s a struggle really, not to end the call right there, not to let the fear overtake you. “We haven’t heard back from Spider yet, and I have a feeling someone’s been a little naughty.”

You lift the curtain to look outside, the train chugs past and the cars flit by like the fast small birds searching for seed in the snow. The whole world is grey and flat. The sky is orange from the lights of the city reflecting the clouds. The trees bare of all but a few crumbly leaves. It’s strange how all at once, the train is all you can look at. All you can think about.

You think about hoseok, the night at the train tracks where he stopped you from leaving. When he asked you to stay.

“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to do to get you to stop this, please.” Your voice sounds off, even for you. Too flat, strange even to your ears.

“I’m afraid we’re too far along for that.”

"Please, please Moonbyul-" You turn, pacing back towards the door. Past Tae’s clothes, past yours, past Jungkook’s, past the alcove where Hobi hangs his sweatshirts for you. You pause there. Looking at them.

“You said- you said when it was over you’d give me anything I wanted. Well I want them alive. Even if-"

Your voice is so shaky, you're careful to make sure you're not overheard. The pack is in the other room, just downstairs. You can hear the distant hum of their sweet voices; the people you love always sound like a melody. Your absence hasn’t been noticed yet.

"Even if I’m not here.”

For once they’re silent on the other end of the line. It’s a full silence, filled with one part lust and one part hunger. Both of them are like Noodle playing with a mouse. Waiting for the right time to drive their teeth in and end this game.

But even mice have teeth. Your hand is holding your phone so hard that the plastic makes your bones ache and your cuts bleed fresh.

“If you don’t let them live, I'll never stop fighting. But if you want me to be willing- If you want me to be your pup the way I think you do."

You can’t even close your hand into a fist with how wrecked your hands are. They hurt with every clumsy movement. you hold the phone. Your every heartbeat lurching with the horror of what you're doing.

I can’t lose them; I can’t be the reason why they die. They'll keep sending people until we're all dead unless I do something.

“All of them, all of them need to be safe, Jimin- you need to let him go of his contract and let him go back to living a normal life and you need to not punish Jin for working for the FBI.” Your words rush over themselves. "Leave my pack alone and I’ll be obedient. I'll be yours. I’ll never try and go back to them again. I won’t ever try and leave. I promise.”

Moonbyul and Hyejin are silent on the other end of the phone. You wait for a few moments. They must be looking at each other, deliberating.

Everything in this room aches. The closet bedroom that Yoongi made he made for you. The wainscotting just so. Everything in this house was crafted with an equal amount of love.

It was never meant to be yours forever, you’ve been keenly aware of this fact since the moment you met Yoongi. Since the moment you met his eyes across the dining room table and the moment his teeth met your skin. Borrowed things don't belong, they never do. Good things do not last. You only get them for as long as you get them and not a moment longer.

You're looking at Hobi's sweatshirts, in the alcove where he stacks them for you to take when Moonbyul and Hyejin respond.

“We'll agree to those terms, but remember their safety depends on your performance."

"You have 24 hours to get to us pup. Make them count.”

The dial tone drones like a funeral drum.

~-~

(Hoseok, a few years prior)

The backroom at the record shop is cramped with all sorts of things from a bygone era;

A mini fridge with a decrepit desktop computer and logbook balanced atop it. Pictures and bulletins glued to the wall from the 1960's. A greasy coffee machine piled high with bags of expired tea. A cramped spot for employees to hang their coats and a yellowing old table with a pair of chairs; both occupied by people also out of place. a beta that has a thing for 1980's rap and an alpha with a broken heart who admittedly loves 2010's pop.

A poster of some glittery showgirl omega from the 20s bats her eyelashes down at Hoseok as he has a mental breakdown. Offering neither comfort nor absolution nor love.

Maybe if he'd been born an omega like that, it would have been easier. Maybe they'd have wanted him then.

Yoongi's hands rub down Hoseok's shoulder, his back, places only lovers have touched. Up and down. An endless circle. An ouroboros of affection nibbling Hoseok's fickle heart. Hoseok aches harder with every passing moment.

Yoongi looks at the clock as Hoseok continues to sob. The shop should be open right now but Yoongi won't let it. It can go out of business for all he cares. As long as no one makes Hoseok get up from this chair before he's ready.

Beta instincts are fickle things, but Yoongi has always had a third sense. Something in him always knows if people are trustworthy and if they need him. Something in their scents or faces or eyes- like small planets reflecting the cosmos back to them. Do planets bear life only when someone is willing to look for them? Do people only deserve help when they're willing to ask for it? or is it like this?

Eventually, Hoseok gets his breath back in his chest and his sobs quiet down. His eyes open bloodshot. All sadness has an expiration date (thankfully). Yoongi's hand slides down his arm and gives his hand a firm squeeze (and stays there).

It's the first time someone's touched Hoseok without wanting something in God knows how long but he's too sad to properly appreciate it or savor it. (Yoongi doesn't want anything from him that Hoseok wouldn't willingly give. Doesn't want anything but his smile. fuck- he's just a co-worker, isn't he?). Who knows when the next touch like this might come? (Yoongi is going to hold his hand tomorrow because Yoongi likes holding people's hands, Jin will give him the tacit permission to do that at least. But all of the pack are keenly aware that Hoseok needs time to heal, no matter how obvious Yoongi's crush and Hoseok's needs).

(Hoseok is definitely not just Yoongi's coe-worker at this point, but saviors come from all sorts of unlikely places)

Eventually Hoseok's sobs quiet and Yoongi sighs, pulling back. He takes one look at hoseok's red nose and pale cheeks and puffs up. "I'm making your hot chocolate and you're going to tell me what's happened."

He gets up like he needs something to do. Like he's tired of taking care of Hoseok. He doesn't take it personally, he's tired of it too.

“My mates they- they kicked me out of our den,” Hoseok confesses. Yoongi's got two mugs in his hands, they thud against the counter when he reaches into one of the cabinets.

It’s warm in here but Hoseok is still thankful for the sweatshirt the beta gave him. Not only for its warmth but for the layer of scent it provides; It’s soaked with the smell of chocolate. So comforting and heavenly that it makes Hoseok a little dizzy when he tucks his nose into it and takes a hefty sniff when Yoongi's got his back turned.

Hoseok was never given the other pack's items, never allowed or encouraged to indulge in their scents. They never asked for his either.

Yoongi hangs both their jackets above the radiator in the back so that they’ll dry faster. He bears an impressive bite mark on his arm, visible because of his short-sleeved shirt. It's bruised just ever so slightly- an alpha bite but not a mating bite because betas don't mate. A mark like that on him is as good a claim as any. Even with the other scents that cling to the sweatshirt.

Hoseok hasn’t known him long, but they’re friends even if they’ve never met up outside of work. You can't not be friends with someone you spend upwards of 30 hours a week with.

Yoongi just hums. "Have you been with them long?"

Hoseok appreciates that Yoongi doesn't use the past tense, his heart too tender around the idea of endings. Some part of him is unconvinced that it really is over. A stubborn heart for a stubborn alpha.

His hair is starting to dry when he nods. "It's been a few years." Hoseok bites his lip, "I could lie and say I didn't see signs but-" his hands end up in his hair, elbows leaning against the creaking yellow table. Tugging a little. "I'm so fucking stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid," Yoongi says, hand on the back of his head. warm rough fingers. Touching him ever so briefly as he passes to put the milk back in the mini-fridge. "It's not stupid to want to find more love where you got it."

But in truth, There's not much more than Yoongi can say. Not much more that he knows to say. He'd never met Hoseok's pack. Whereas Namjoon and Jimin and the pups have a general tendency to linger around Yoongi person at all hours and locations. Stopping by to drop off coffee or just to make funny faces at him through the window when they're on their way to work. Yoongi has never met his co-worker's pack and has never seen much evidence at all on him beyond some vague hints of scents.

That alone is enough of a hint; usually, when people have packmates they're soaked in their scents. Visceral claims to keep any wandering eyes wandering still. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't wondered why Hoseok didn't wear his packmate's scents.

It’s not like the alpha smells bad at all- a little strong sure, but less genetically dominant alphas tend to smell a little sweeter like omegas.

At least that’s what Namjoon says when he feels like info dumping. Late at night when the pack asleep around them and only Yoongi's stayed up to listen. Because Yoongi likes the sound of Namjoon's voice when he gets into the details. Stroking across Namjoon’s bare chest just to feel the alpha's words rumble against his fingertips. His heartbeat against his ear the backtrack for all of it.

Whoever Yoongi’s pack is; they surely love him a lot. That much has been evident since the second that Hoseok met him. Evident in the packed bento boxes and the bunny-eyed omega that walks with him to work sometimes. Or in the tall omega and alpha pair that Hoseok has seen perusing the shelves when he comes in to relieve Yoongi of his shift.

Hoseok has worked here for 6 months. It’s impossible not to collect these details. The hickeys on his throat that he wears after weekends, how ruffled but generally loved Yoongi looks when he comes back from rut and heat leave.

“Is there a reason why they left?” Yoongi tries to be as undiscerning as possible. Voice gentle and measured. Stirring the hot cocoa and putting it in front of Hoseok.

Hoseok takes a sip and it feels like he's drinking a cup of the beta in front of him. Yoongi melts a little into the chair at the happy noise Hoseok makes.

It's good. Really good actually, Yoongi uses twice as much Swiss mix as the package instructs and a tablespoon of honey to boot. More chocolate can never be a bad thing.

Before Hoseok has a chance to respond, The phone next to the cabinet rings. And Yoongi takes it off the stand and hangs it up again in quick secession so that it doesn’t ring anymore. It has to be important but he ignores it for Hoseok's sake. Yoongi does a lot of ordering for the shop, the rare records that their boss is always trying to source and sell. It's a lot of chasing down leads and curators.

(This is not true. This is a lie that Yoongi and his boss have fed him. This phone is set up for the family's use. Hoseok doesn’t know that most of the calls Yoongi answers are more delicate than just simple stock orders.)

“I just found out that my brother has stolen from me, what should his punishment be beta?”

“How much did he steal?”

“300k”

Yoongi swallows, fighting his narrow margin of benevolence. The drops of mercy that he's allowed to show without suspicion. He tells himself that the other beta would order a far worse. People only call him when they want lighter punishment.

“A finger for every 100 then.”

The people who call ask him all manner of things. Things like “I think my child might be planning on going to the police, what should I do before anyone finds out about it?” He is both a secret keeper and a jury.

“Send them away. Out of sight and out of mind of anything that they might be able to share. I hear the military academies are lovely this year. So much snow. Yes, they take omega recruits.”

“My firstborn child presented as an omega instead of an alpha. They're my firstborn and heir, how should I proceed?”

“I can ask around for an advantageous match but I’m sorry, there is no fixing presentation.”

Hoseok hasn’t seen a phone like that in years. Didn’t even know they made old-fashioned ones like that anymore. Ones with a dial, the blue plastic worn from the number of times Yoongi's had to pick it up. It doesn't stay silent for long, ringing soon after yoongi's hung it up.

“I'm the only- they’re an all-omega group.” As if by the mention of his sub gender Hoseok’s angry burning sugar scent fills the room. In reply, Yoongi’s sweetness rises. Hoseok takes another sip and pretends it's just the hot chocolate warming his cheeks. “I guess they wanted to keep it that way.”

"I've got two omegas and they keep me on my toes, I can't imagine four." That gets a laugh out of Hoseok.

"You've got a bunch of alphas in yours though, right?" A bunch already, I wouldn't be needed. Hoseok has seen them, the tall one with dimples that looks like something out of a soap opera. The scary-looking one with the chubby cheeks who's always holding hands with the pretty academic one who likes the jazz in the corner.

Yoongi nods, "That must be nice," Hoseok's eyelashes are all clumped together from the tears. "Having so many people to take care of you."

Yoongi hums, knuckles brushing Hoseok’s hand on the table. It’s just one tender touch but Hoseok starts to break. To crumple.

Yoongi senses Hoseok breaking, pulling him in close before he has a chance to really fracture (he comes just in time, Yoongi loves Hoseok just in time). Yoongi’s scent alone is enough to soothe him- beyond the way he guides the alpha to rest against his throat. Hoseok fights it only a little, what's a little scenting among friends?

They're not just friends, it's not just scenting.

Hoseok wants to bury his nose in the beta’s throat, but that wouldn’t be appropriate, not with the scent of so many others clinging to him. He still sags into the hug. Turns his face away to avoid the temptation.

“They didn’t even tell me- and now the lease on the apartment is up and I can’t afford it on my own and-“ I’m so scared and I just wish there was someone to take care of me. I wish I was a pup again.

They sit like that at the table and Yoongi just lets him cry, He pulls back after his sobbing has cooled. They hug until they both smell like gooey chocolate chip cookies with too much brown sugar.

Hoseok sniffles, “We have to open up the shop,” Yoongi's arms tighten around Hoseok's shoulders in reply.

“It can wait a few more seconds.” Hoseok wants to say that the owner wouldn’t like that but he doesn’t.

Yoongi sips and hesitates. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” Hoseok pauses for a second, flushing before he shakes his head. “Okay, it's okay. You can say with me.”

“Are- are you sure they won't mind?” But Yoongi is already typing away on his phone, shooting a quick text to the pack group chat (a chat that Hoseok will be added to in exactly 23 days, but who's counting?)

“Not at all. It’s a bit cramped with all of us but we have a spare bed in the closet room that Tae likes to read on sometimes- Jungkook's boss slept there last night after they came back from drinking and Namjoon was so mad- he won't be mad about you though- it's just that Jungkook- he just really shouldn't be drinking."

"Is he underaged?"

"No, he's just got health issues."

"Oh." Yet another person who gets the love he needs, the care he needs. Hoseok tries and fails miserably not to be jealous over Yoongi's omega whom he's never met.

He won't be jealous for long. Later Jungkook is going to challenge him to an arm wrestle just to prove he doesn't need babying. Beating alphas in feats of strength is his favorite thing. He'll feel Hoseok’s hand in his and get completely distracted. "Wow, you've got like- really pretty hands!" and drag them close to his to compare sizes. He'll be smitten nearly instantly with Jungkook- for what it's worth. The jealousy only lasts for a few hours.

Within a few seconds his phone is ringing off the hook, he shows Hoseok the chorus of, “Yes it’s okay!” and “Poor thing, tell him he can stay as long as he wants.” "Of course hyung!" "Does Hoseok like kimchi-jjigae or should we just order pizza?" “Oh! Can we get some with pineapple?” “Gross Jk.” "Yeah we all know Minnie doesn't like the aftertaste of burnt fruit."

And Hoseok can't help but feel like he doesn’t deserve this kindness and such an effortless acceptance. There is a knock at the front door before he can say anything. A few short taps against the glass. Yoongi tells Hoseok to stay put while he goes to deal with a pushy customer who wants in. Leaving him alone in the backroom with his cooling hot coco and the poster still staring down at him.

(They say two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, but that's not the only way a secret stays buried; the best secrets are the ones you’re not even aware of.

Out of all the people in your pack. Hoseok is the only one in possession of a secret like this. The best kinds of secrets are the ones you don't even know are secrets see- he doesn't even know that this memory is enough to save you. Hoseok is entirely unaware that in his mind lies this memory.

Hoseok was the first person to get on the no-kill list, and it wasn’t because of Yoongi.

All packmates of a Don get put on the list;

no matter if they're active or past.)

Sitting at that yellowing wood table; Hoseok feels more settled now that he knows he has a place to sleep tonight that isn’t this backroom. Pulling the sleeve of Yoongi’s sweatshirt over his palms and sniffing at the collar where it was pushed up against Yoongi’s scent gland.

If he thinks hard, he can pick out a few scents here and there soaking the fabric. (Milky Omega Jin, Honey Sweet Puppy Jungkookie, Cinnamon sweet Alpha Tae and vanil-lalalala Jimin, Coffee Alpha Namjoon and Chocolate Yoongi).

It's so different from his ex-pack's scents. Their sugary sweet omega peppermint and sharp lemony evergreen, winter berry and pine, the cold smart of snow against his nose. His burning caramel scent- so off-putting. The one scent not Christmas-themed. The one that didn’t fit.

By comparison- Yoongi's pack smells like a bakery in summer. Every scent that could be added to a cake maybe (one day, in the kitchen, he’ll eat your tiramisu and realize yes- that’s exactly what it’s missing. Your cakey scent makes them all complete, the warmth of baking things).

He has somewhere to go now. Somewhere to be. Someone to trust. He trusts Yoongi- even if they’ve only known each other for a handful of short months.

And Yoongi’s pack can’t be worse than his last one.

As if in reply to Yoongi’s phone (buzzing with more texts that he doesn't check because Hoseok is nothing if not respectful of people's digital privacy. If he checked he would see "Is that the hot coworker you're always talking about? The one who always looks a little sad?")

Hoseok’s phone buzzes with the notification he's been waiting for.

Pack Omega 🌙 calling.

Pick up? Decline?

Hoseok hasn't yet gotten around to changing her contact information. He scrambles at it, spilling the hot cocoa across the table as he rushes to pick it up. Scrambling to get to it before it goes to voice mail. Blood pounding in his ears.

Hoseok’s voice is broken as he says his pack omega’s name, his old pack omega’s name.

“Byulyi- Moonbyul please-”

Moonbyul is cold on the other side of the phone. Maybe she’d have liked him more, and wouldn’t have given up on him if he didn't beg. But Hoseok has never been above begging. Not for love. Not for the thing he wants and needs the most. Hoseok needs love more than air and as Yoongi said- it's easiest to go looking for love where you once got it.

Even when you know it could hurt you.

Her voice is flat and unaffected. “I just wanted to make sure you found a place to stay tonight. Are you still going to be around to give the landlord the keys?”

Hoseok finds himself nodding even though he knows she can’t see him. “Yes- I can do that, I can do anything you want. Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Moonbyul please-”

“Goodbye Hoseok.” She says, hanging up after a second. Hoseok looks at the phone. Pushing the button to redial. It doesn't go. She’s already blocked him.

It will be a long time until Hoseok hears from his last pack again, a long long time until he says their names again. He will remember the way he’d begged, the way her name had sounded smack dab in the middle of it. And hate hate Hate how it makes him feel. He won't ever say their names, regret and self-disgust getting in the way.

It's a little funny, thinking of how different things might have gotten if he'd just told yoongi their names. If he hadn't let his alpha pride get in the way. A few days from now they'll talk about it together. "I don't like the way saying their names makes me feel- it feels- I hate how much I want to say it- to see them again- saying their names just reminds me of the power they had over me."

Never again, will Jung Hoseok beg for someone to give him the bare minimum. This is his lowest point. The moment where it shifts- for good.

His head is in his hands when Yoongi comes back into the room. Still sniffling, crying yet again. Yoongi sets a palm in his hair, ruffling it. Eyeing the spilled hot cocoa with a raised eyebrow.

“If you wanted coffee you could have just said so-“ he makes an attempt at levity and is rewarded with Hoseok’s small snort. Wiping his wet cheeks. Neither of them is aware of the secret. Neither of them is aware and so much worse off for it."

Hoseok grins, “Are you buying hyung?”

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog! Every bit of encouragement helps me write the next chapter!

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

Series Masterlist ~ Donate ~ Twitter

~-~

Notes:

in the story there has always been this question- mainly raised by jimin during his secret chapters- if the m/c is actually in love with them or if she's just manipulating them- at the beginning of this chapter- we actually see jimin finally dispel the last bit of him that thinks even a little bit that this is the case. once he sees how much she put her body on the line- that question isn't even in the back of his mind- even a little. i ended up re-editing this part alot because of it.

every time i write something from jimin's pov i'm always like "why is everything so meandering? why are things disjointed?" and then i remember that's literally jimin's character- that he is in a lot of ways an unreliable narrator.

(TW) i have this idea in my head that namjoon DOES NOT become a good person in the event that all of them die like- a whole separate idea of him becoming a doctor for the family through yoongi's connections with the soul purpose of one day killing moonbyul and her entire pack…including their pups on accident which ends up destroying the last bit of namjoon's innocence as a person…and he ends up becoming one of the families assassins alongside jimin as a result, in this event jungkook does not stay with them and instead moves on and yoongi stays and tries to get them to stop only to ask them to kill him as their last kill because he's unable to cope with the loss of jin, hobi, the m/c and tae. BUT ANYWAY I DIGRESS THAT IS NOT THIS STORY.

i think in this story there is this really interesting dynamic of femininity and death and morality- that being said red nail polish is definitely a metaphor for whose comfortable killing and who isn't. i like the contrast between tae who will never wear red nails again- vs the moon pack who all are not allowed out of the nest if their nailpolish isn't perfect like- thats another layer of the fucked up shit.

are you suprised that the m/c is going to leave? Did you see it coming from a mile away? i mean...it is in the title of the series ��

….the parallel between hobi losing his voice and the m/c not having a voice at the beginning of the series- you can project whatever meaning you want onto that <3

also on that subject the line "Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival." it's worth mentioning that thats not what i think is the most necessary thing to their survival but it is their own interpretation of what keeps them alive. like i for one actually think that the m/c is a lot more pragmatic than anyone gives her credit for but i digress. i could go on about all of their strenghts.

what did you guys think about hobi's secret reveal???? a fair amount of people have guessed it and i think when someone got it at the beginning of the series i lied and said it wasn't- i'm allowed to be an unreliable narrator too!!! kudos to everyone who got it! i feel like it could have been revealed better and originally the big one off was slated for next chapter but i decided to shift it to this one (mostly because i think the next chapter is about to get up there in terms of word count tbh 😭) but T-T its done now! please give me praise because i'm baby and this week has honestly been really hard

478 notes · View notes

ggukiepie · 1 year ago

Text

one of your girls (jungkook x reader) (part 1)

we don't gotta be in love, no i don't wanna be the one, no i just wanna be one of your girls tonight ~ i wanna take your light inside dim me down, snuff me out ~ give me tough love leave me with nothin' when i come down

pairing: fwb!jk x oc, brief jimin x oc

tags: smut, angst, a little bit of fluff (like teeny tiny)

warnings: two smut scenes, kissing, marking (hickeys), fingering, brief handjob, protected sex, slight dom!jk, sub!oc, praise, dirty talk, grinding, edging, oral (f. & m. receiving), throat fucking, dacryphilia, spit kink, brief masturbation (m.), squirting, brief anal play, back shots, cum shot, multiple orgasms (you'll see), aftercare

word count: 5.8k

a/n: been in my feels lately i had to write it out lol; wrote this in one sitting my hands actually hurt omg; inspired by the song "one of your girls" (ik don't roast me idk why it's stuck in my head fml); if this gets taken down then bye bye i literally just wrote it here directly lmaooooo; anw enjoy !!!! part 2 / drabble i (flashback)

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..

You knew what you were getting yourself into the night you said yes to Jungkook. You knew you'd fall for him, be under his spell. You knew you'd end up getting hurt. You prepared yourself, you really did, yet you were still surprised when you woke up each morning and he wasn't beside you in bed. You felt your heart break a little bit more when you saw him with another girl, whether she'd be one of your friends or a complete stranger to you.

You tried to guard your heart. Reminded yourself to prepare for the worst. Forced yourself not to fall, not to be blindsided. I'm just having a little fun, you told yourself for the nth time.

jk: u busy tonight?

you: not really! just writing a paper that's due next week

That was sent hours ago and you mentally cringe at your reply. You always find yourself oversharing to Jungkook when you didn't even need to. You wanted to make it seem like your whole situationship was just casual. Like you didn't care. He rarely shared much about his personal life and so should you. But that hardly happened. You didn't want him to think that you cared, that you were clingy or waiting for him to text. You didn't even wait five minutes before replying and he hasn't even texted back.

You know what his text means. He wants to fuck and that's it. But he doesn't say it outright. No, never. He wants to make it seem like he cares, that he wants to know how your night is going. But he just wants to know if you're free to fuck and once you reply, he'll keep that as a reminder in the back of his mind, like he has a mental list of girls he can sort through at the end of the night when he's bored or when he wants to have a little bit of fun.

You know you're just one of his girls on his roster and you're fine with that. You're not his girlfriend and he's not your boyfriend. Though it does seem like that on some days, which is when you get the courage to not reply to his texts. When you try to shut him out and move on. He usually shows up outside your lecture hall with a cup of coffee in hand, bunny smile on his face as he waits for you to walk into the hallway. Like he's waiting for you, picking you up from class like a good and loving boyfriend.

It's all for show and it's only to get himself on your good side again. It works every time. You don't question yourself anymore. Jungkook likes the chase, likes the adrenaline of going after girls and trying to get them to fall for him, or sleep with him, or whatever. It's all the same to him.

You sigh again as you check your phone, hoping for a reply but knowing he won't text back. It's a Friday night and he's probably at some party. You go through your texts and open the conversation with your best friend.

jihyo: see u later! im picking u up so u better be ready >:(

You can't help but laugh at her insistence. Jihyo knows what you're going through since you tell her everything. You tell her you don't care though, that you're not looking for a relationship right now and your "thing" with Jungkook is just casual. But you know she sees right through your lies. It's even more obvious when you ghost all your friends and lock yourself in your apartment every night. She's trying to make you forget and move on and have some actual fun so you indulge her every time.

You get ready in less than an hour and actually put some effort into your appearance. You're not sure which party you're going to but you won't be surprised if Jungkook will be there as well. Maybe if you look hot enough he'll choose you tonight.

You hear a knock on your door and open it immediately, finding Jihyo laughing at something her boyfriend has just said. Most of the time you end up hanging out with her and Mingyu because she's always dragging you with her to keep you from being lonely. You don't mind it though because they're fun people to be with. Even though Mingyu is Jungkook's roommate and best friend. But Mingyu isn't anything like Jungkook. He looks at Jihyo like she's hung up the stars and moon. Loves her with all his heart and doesn't leave her second guessing. You always wonder why him and Jungkook are friends when they're so different.

Jihyo turns to smile at you, but it's still the lovestruck smile she gave Mingyu just seconds ago. You know you have the same kind of smile reserved for Jungkook. You wish you didn't but at the same time you're glad you do, like you have a part of yourself only Jungkook can see. Even though he doesn't do the same.

"You look so hot tonight!" she squeals as she pulls you in a hug. You laugh and roll your eyes, making eye contact with Mingyu as he nods his head in greeting. Jihyo steps back and grabs your hand, dragging you out your apartment so fast you barely have time to lock the door behind you. "Let's go before all the good drinks are gone."

It's a short but fun walk to the house where the party is being held. You find yourself laughing with Jihyo and Mingyu the whole time. They're the type of couple that doesn't make third wheeling a bore.

Loud music blares in your ears the moment you step inside. You feel your heels sticking to the floor. A typical frat house throwing a typical Friday night party. You immediately take shots with Jihyo and Mingyu. You need it to be able to survive the night since you already feel yourself tensing up at the possibility of Jungkook being in the same place as you.

You spot your other friends and hangout with them for the rest of the night. It's when you're playing beer pong with Jimin as your partner do you see Jungkook at the other side of the room. He's talking to some girl which is nothing new. It shouldn't phase you but it does. You thought you were going to be his pick for the night since he texted you a while ago.

You feel your heart fall at the sight of them, your chest physically hurting that you make Jimin throw the ball twice for the both of you since you can't focus. You feel all the fun and happiness slowly leave your body. You feel your stomach churn at the way he's got her trapped against the wall, tattooed arm placed beside her head, mouth whispering right against her ear. She's smiling and giggling at whatever Jungkook is telling her. You wish that were you.

"Forget about him," Jimin mutters in your ear. He's watching your beer pong opponents take their turn as you're watching Jungkook and the girl.

You shake your head at Jimin, turning your head to smile at him just to make it seem like you're okay. Just like Jihyo, he sees right through you.

Jimin's another close friend of Jungkook. They're not so different. Jimin likes to sleep around but he makes it clear that he doesn't want anything serious. Always nice and gentle with the girls he sleeps with. Jungkook makes it seem like you're his and only his. You wonder again why they're friends.

"Seriously, Y/N," Jimin says, a little bit of urgency in his tone. It's probably the look of longing on your face that raises concern in your friend. Everyone sees how broken you look when you catch Jungkook with another girl.

"I know," you say after a while. You talk just a little bit loud enough to be heard over the music. "Jungkook and I just sleep with each other. It's casual and that's it."

You hear Jimin sigh. He nods his head and it's his turn to throw the dirty ping pong ball. You've had this conversation with him and Jihyo numerous times already, sometimes it's the both of them and sometimes it's on separate occasions. You say the same thing every time. You think your friends are starting to give up on you. Maybe you should as well.

You force yourself to have fun for the rest of the night, always trying to be in a room where Jungkook isn't. You're not sure if he's spotted you. You don't know which hurts more—him not spotting you because he doesn't even bother looking for you in the crowd, or him spotting you but not talking to you because you're not his choice for the night. Either way, he doesn't care. You know he doesn't but you wish you did. You thought you'd catch his attention with the black dress you're wearing. Or with the way your hair is styled. But it doesn't work and you tell yourself that it's okay. You always see him in your peripheral though, either talking to someone or flirting with that girl.

You decide to leave when you see Jungkook leaving as well, fingers tangled with the girl's. She looks like a giggling mess and you can't blame her. Everyone falls for Jungkook's charms. You try not to dwell on the fact that they're going to have sex.

It's Jimin who walks you home. He can tell you're sad so he talks about his day and his classes, avoiding Jungkook's name even though you're positive that they hung out today. Jungkook's intertwined in so many people's lives it's hard to leave him out. But Jimin makes an effort just to distract you. You're grateful for it though and he keeps up the act all the way to your apartment. He asks if he can use your bathroom and you say yes, mindlessly changing into your pajamas once the bathroom door closes behind you. You thought you'd have a little bit more time to finish changing but you suddenly hear Jimin swear behind you. You live in a little studio apartment so there's not much room to hide.

"Oh fuck— Shit," he says. You turn around laughing to see him with his hand over his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbles.

You're in your underwear but you don't mind. "It's not like you haven't seen me like this before," you chuckle.

"Still," he reasons.

Because you're stupid and heartbroken and hurt, you walk up to Jimin and gently grab his wrist, bringing his arm down to his side. You look at him looking at anywhere else but you. Eventually he looks down at your body for a split second and you laugh at him.

"We shouldn't," he whispers.

You shrug your shoulders. "Just a little bit of fun, right?" you ask with a smile on your face. "Like old times?" you giggle.

Jimin lets out a scoff but it's more of a laugh. Like he can't believe you're both doing this again. "You sure you're not drunk?" he asks as he makes eye contact with you. Bingo. You got him.

"Nope," you say sweetly.

"But Jungkook?"

You roll your eyes to mask the hurt. "Don't care."

Jimin looks at you intently to make sure you're not bluffing. While you wait for his answer you unclasp your bra and let it fall down your shoulders, exposing yourself to him. His eyes widen at the sight.

"Okay," he breathes out. He suddenly holds you by the waist to place you on the kitchen counter. It has you giggling at him.

"Eager?" you ask when he starts kissing your neck. You feel him drag his teeth across your skin, like he's thinking if he should mark you up or not. You stretch your neck out even more and feel him biting at your skin, sure to leave a bruise.

"Just excited," he mumbles against your neck. You feel him smile.

You unzip his pants while he's busy sucking your nipples. He's hard already when you start pumping your hand up and down his cock.

"Feels good, baby," he moans in your ear. You're still wearing your underwear but Jimin doesn't mind, just pushes it to the side to insert two of his fingers inside your pussy.

"Oh," you choke out. He finds your spot right away and rubs his fingers against it. He doesn't make you come, just fingers you to make sure you're prepped. It's quick when he takes his fingers out and grabs the condom in the back pocket of his jeans. You watch him tear the packet open and roll the condom down his length.

You both don't say anything else as he pushes his cock past your tight walls. Doesn't give you a moment before he starts pounding, his skin slapping against yours.

It's always like this with Jimin—just quick and easy and no feelings attached. You both don't do it much, it happens at the most random times. Usually when you want to forget or when he's stressed from school. And after this you're both back to being friends. It's never awkward. You wish it were like this with Jungkook instead.

"Jimin," you moan when he starts rubbing your clit. "Gonna come."

"Go ahead, baby," he breathes out, placing a soft kiss on your cheek and leaving his lips there. You push yourself to release and Jimin follows right after. You're both breathing heavily when he pulls out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the bin. He zips up his pants and starts looking for something on your bed. You're still trying to catch your breath when you feel a shirt being put over your head. Jimin's sweet like this—does aftercare in the most platonic way possible.

"There," he says after helping you wear the shirt he found. He doesn't know it belongs to Jungkook. You don't think he minds if he does though.

"Thank you," you say quietly and give him a small smile.

"Anytime. I'll see you around, okay?" He kisses your forehead and you watch him leave your apartment.

The silence engulfs you and you think you should feel disgusted with yourself—that you're pining over a guy but you just had sex with another. With his close friend out of all people. But you push the thought to the back of your mind as you jump down from the kitchen counter and walk into your bathroom. You're just like Jungkook, you tell yourself. Just casually sleeping around and nothing else. He doesn't care and you don't either. You feel a teeny bit better.

You take a warm shower to wash all the remnants from tonight. You actually take your time just to clear your jumbled up mind. It's almost 30 minutes later when you step out and check your phone while you're drying off, heartbeat stopping at a text you've received almost an hour ago.

jk: u up?

jk: hey reply to me :(

jk: coming over

Your eyes widen at the last text. It was sent just 10 minutes ago. You don't know where he's coming from but the campus isn't that big so he'll probably be here soon. You quickly finish drying off and change into comfortable clothes. You hear a knock on the door the moment you finish changing. You take a deep breath before walking to the door and opening it.

You notice Jungkook's wearing the same clothes from the party but his shirt is a bit wrinkled. You think he just came from the girl's place. Probably fucked her and is here now because he's not satisfied. You should feel disgusted and mad but you're not. You're no better. You just slept with his friend.

"Hi," you mutter.

He smiles at you and leans in to kiss you on the lips. "Hey, sweetheart." It has you swooning.

You step to the side to let him in and he walks straight to your bed, sitting down to take off his shoes before lying down comfortably. You follow him and sit down on your bed right by his waist. He stretches out his arm to drape it over your thighs and you start tracing his tattoos absentmindedly. This is your usual routine.

"Did you stay in all night?" he asks. Just a little bit of conversation before he does what he's really here for. At least he has a little bit of decency. You don't mind though, it makes you think that he cares about you when he asks things like this.

You shake your head and smile at him. "Nah, Jihyo and Mingyu dragged me to that frat party." You can tell he's trying to hide his surprise.

"Oh, I didn't see you there," he mumbles.

"It's okay." You shrug. "There were a lot of people."

"We could've played beer pong together, I know you like doing that every time you're out."

Your heart clenches at his remark. You're surprised and hurt every time he remembers little things about you. "I was with Jimin, don't worry." Jungkook doesn't know the double meaning to it.

He nods and runs his fingers across your thighs. "Missed you. Sorry I didn't reply to your text earlier, got caught up in something." You know that's a lie. "Just got back from the party too, that's why I came here late." Another lie.

You nod and smile as if you believe him. And you force yourself to because it's easier than knowing the truth. It's silent for a moment before he mumbles c'mere and brings you on top of his lap.

"Missed this," he says quietly as he squeezes your thighs. His hands trail up your waist till he's squeezing your tits beneath the shirt you're wearing. You start grinding on his cock, getting out of breath too quickly. You missed this too. It's been a week since you last had sex with Jungkook which is a long time for the both of you.

"Kook," you pant. He's pinching your nipples knowing that's where you're most sensitive.

"I know, sweetheart. Take your shirt off for me, hm?"

You nod your head dumbly and do as you're told, watching Jungkook stare at your body. He stops moving beneath you and you're about to ask what's wrong when he brings his hand up to touch the hickey on your neck that Jimin left.

"Who's this from?" he asks. You can't tell if he's mad or just curious. Jungkook isn't showing any emotions on his face and you're starting to get nervous.

"Just..." You think if you should tell him the truth. You look into his eyes and try to see if there's any semblance of care. You don't know. You really can't tell. Then your eyes trails down his body, to his neck and the wrinkly white shirt he's wearing. There's a red stain on the collar and you know it's lipstick. From the girl he slept with earlier. "Someone," you finally mumble.

"Someone?" He continues rubbing the spot gently until he presses down on it with his thumb. He doesn't press down too hard, but it's with enough force to have you hissing slightly.

"It's from Jimin," you finally say. He doesn't say anything but raise an eyebrow at your reply. You don't know if he already knows that you and Jimin have slept together. He doesn't look so surprised, or maybe he is and he's just really good at schooling his expressions.

He makes eye contact with you again and you feel his hand going to the back of your head, grabbing a handful of your hair to press your lips against his. The kiss feels urgent and rushed, his tongue instantly slipping in your mouth and tangling with yours. You're on top of him yet you feel defenseless as he holds you by your hair and kisses you hard. You let Jungkook do as he pleases and forget about the little conversation you just had. You start grinding on his cock again and he reciprocates this time, hips moving against yours.

Before you know it, he rolls you over and pins your arms above your head. You stare at him with wide eyes and he smirks at you in return. He holds your wrists with one hand and takes off your shorts and underwear with the other. He's fully dressed while you're not and you know you're at his mercy. He knows this too as he spreads your thighs apart with his hand.

"Keep your hands there," he whispers. You hold your bed frame for good measure. You just want to please him. He trails kisses down your body, from your neck to your nipples to your tummy. He stops by your thighs and you feel his breath against your skin. You squirm beneath Jungkook to get him to do something, to touch you and pleasure you. He shakes his head, still with that damn smirk on his face. He starts kissing your thighs, close to your pussy just to tease you.

"Didn't know you and Jimin have a thing going on," he says against your skin. You shiver at the vibrations his voice provides.

You feel Jungkook bite down on your inner thighs. "We don't," you choke out. He scoffs and starts kissing your pussy. Just light kisses that start making you crazy because you just want his mouth on you. "We're just friends," you say weakly.

He looks up from where he's laying between your legs. "Like us?"

Us.

You know what he means but at the same time you don't. You're friends with Jimin like you're friends with Jungkook. But you don't long for Jimin like you do for Jungkook. You don't yearn for Jimin the same way, don't look for him in every place you're at, don't pine for his affection or his touches. Jimin isn't like Jungkook and you both know that. You just don't know if you're different from the other girls Jungkook fucks.

"No," you say truthfully. It's said with defeat and desperation because you know he's not going to touch you till you answer him. "Not like us."

You know Jungkook won't pry anymore because he finally starts licking your pussy, starting with your outer lips until his tongue is inside your hole licking every crevice. Then he starts sucking your clit and that's when you truly lose it, legs going around his head to keep him against your cunt.

"Fuck," you almost scream. You're so close already that you should feel embarrassed but you're not. Jungkook knows your body too well. No one holds a candle to how good he eats you out. "Please," you whimper.

"Please what, sweetheart?"

"Please make me come!" you beg. "Need it, need it so much." You starting grinding your hips against his mouth.

"You're so desperate," he chuckles. It's said meanly but the comment flies over your head. You don't care anymore; you just want some sort of release. "But not yet."

You suddenly feel cold because Jungkook removes his mouth from you, standing up and getting out of the bed to remove his clothing. You continue holding the bed frame above you because you want to be good for him. You watch him strip his clothes off till he's naked just like you, tattooed hand wrapping around his cock.

It's long and thick and it splits you open every time he fucks you. You really don't know how you manage to take him every time.

Jungkook is so mean and unfair with the way he's teasing you right now, pleasuring himself while you lay on the bed. You're about to open your mouth to complain when he finally nods his head, motioning you to get up. "Kneel. Hands behind your back, okay?"

You nod your head and get in position on the bed, head tilting up to look at his cock. It's so hard and the tip is already leaking. You just want your mouth around him.

"Open," he says.

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, just the way Jungkook likes. As expected, he spits directly into your mouth and you swallow right away.

"Good girl. Now suck."

He brings his cock to your lips and you immediately start sucking. You push your length all the way in till you feel him at the back of your throat.

"Gotta take all of me in, pretty. Or else I won't fuck your little pussy."

You know Jungkook takes his threats seriously so you back up a little to catch your breath before taking him in your mouth again. God, he's so big and thick your jaw is already starting to feel sore. But you power through and keep taking him in your mouth until your nose touches his tummy. You try not to gag around him but it's no use. You also feels your eyes tearing up.

Jungkook doesn't care you're struggling. In fact, he loves it because he's got that stupidly handsome smile on his face. He strokes your cheeks for a while and you try to even out your breathing.

"I wanna fuck your throat, sweetheart. Can you take it?" he asks sweetly.

You know it's a rhetorical question but you nod anyways, as much as you could with a dick down your throat.

"Let me in then."

You close your eyes and relax your throat even more. Jungkook holds your head then and pushes you towards him even deeper. You're helpless since your hands are behind your back. You gag again and start feeling lightheaded.

"There we go," he finally says once his whole length is in your mouth. You feel the tip down your throat. You're struggling so much but you try not to move. You just want to please him. "Gonna move now," he mumbles and starts moving his hips. You let him fuck your throat for God knows how long. You're full on crying when he stops and withdraws his length halfway out your mouth. You take the time to gasp for air and you even cough a little, head bowing down to regain your breathing. You faintly hear Jungkook laugh above you.

"I'm not yet done, love. Was just feeling nice enough to give you a little breather."

You nod your head and look up at him, mouth opening wide to let him know you're ready again.

"You just let me do whatever I want, huh?" he chuckles. You're not sure if he means something else but to you it does. You willingly let Jungkook do anything to you. Even if it results in heartbreak.

He stares at you for a while and spreads the spit and precum that's on your lips. "So messy." Then he's back to inserting his length inside your mouth. The glide is smoother this time since you're already prepped. "There we go," he groans out. He stays still and feels the imprint of his dick on your throat. "Look so pretty for me."

Jungkook starts moving again but thankfully his pace is slow this time. You're sure you'll have a sore throat by tomorrow.

"Keep your eyes open, okay? Wanna see you cry."

You look at him while he's fucking your mouth, looking at the way his cock moves in your throat. You're starting to lose your breath and you think Jungkook could tell as well because he grants you reprieve and steps back. You're coughing more this time, hands catching yourself in front of you. You barely get enough time to regain your breathing before you feel Jungkook grabbing your head and bringing your lips to his.

"Did so good for me," he says against your mouth.

You're trembling in his hold and you grab his arms to steady yourself. "Fuck me please," you try to say but your voice comes out hoarse and ragged.

He kisses your cheek and then your jaw. "I will, don't worry," he coos. "Always gonna give you what you want." Another lie. You know that's not true.

You're putty in his hands as he maneuvers you to the position he wants to fuck you in, which is on your hands and knees with your ass high in the air.

"Just like that," he whispers. He pushes down on your shoulders even more so that you're wide and open for him. He starts rubbing your pussy and you can't help but moan out loud. "You're so wet, sweetheart. All from sucking my cock?"

You nod wordlessly from your position on the bed. "Jungkook!" you scream as he plunges two fingers in your pussy. He's ruthless as he fucks his fingers fast and hard, hitting your g-spot right away. "Please," you cry out. You're so wound up and tense and you just want to come already but he won't let you.

You hear Jungkook chuckle from behind you. "Still so tight, baby. Thought Jimin stretched you out already." You're about to reply but you feel his thumb press against your rim and your senses go haywire, mind going blank because you're so overwhelmed.

"Please, please," you beg quietly. You're crying again and you'd do anything at this point to get Jungkook to fuck you. He withdraws his fingers from your holes and you hear the crinkling of plastic behind you. You turn your head slightly to see him slipping a condom on. Jungkook has never fucked you raw and you never asked why because you already know the answer. You'll get hurt hearing the truth anyway.

He holds your hips to steady you. He rubs the head of his cock up and down your folds. "You want this?" he asks roughly.

"Yes. Please."

Finally, finally, Jungkook pushes his cock in your pussy. It doesn't take long because you're so wet he slides right in to the hilt.

"You feel so good around me." He stills for a moment and you grab your ass to spread your cheeks even more.

"Please move, Kook."

You hear him groan. "God, baby, you're filthy." He starts fucking into you and your mind goes blank. You feel his thick cock slide in and out, the tip already kissing your cervix.

"Feels so good," you mumble incoherently. Jungkook fucks you quick and hard, holding your hips so tightly you know it's going to bruise. You feel his balls slap against your clit which adds even more pleasure. You feel yourself getting close again and arch your back.

"Can I please come?" you ask through your moans. "Please let me come, Jungkook. Please—"

"Come," he finally says. It's the only word you need to hear before you let go, that coil in you snapping and bringing pleasure all over your body. You don't know you're moaning so loudly you're almost screaming. You feel your pussy just gush and it gets so wet and sticky you're surprised Jungkook doesn't slip out. It's so filthy that you hear squelching noises as well. Your orgasm goes on for so long you don't know how you're still holding yourself up.

"You creamed my cock so much, baby," Jungkook says. He slows down his pace but he's still moving so you can ride out your high. "Got me wet and even your sheets."

You barely hear him and there's just a buzzing sound around your head. Your body feels so heavy and you just want to collapse but you arch your back even more for Jungkook.

He laughs. "Think I fucked you stupid." He increases his pace again and you just kneel there and take it. "Gonna make me fucking come," he growls as his hips snap against yours. "Fuck." He fucks you some more and you groan every time he hits your g-spot.

Suddenly, he pulls out so fast. "Don't move," he groans. You stay in place and watch him remove the condom off, hand going to stroke his cock as he brings himself to his release. You feel his come on you, right on your pussy and asshole. "Fuck, baby," he groans. You feel even stickier with his load on you. Then he bends down to kiss your neck, and then your cheek, and then a gentle one on your lips.

"You okay?" he asks quietly. His arm goes to wrap around your waist and you slowly start sinking onto the bed.

"Mhm," you mumble and try to keep your emotions at bay. You always feel so overwhelmed after sex with Jungkook. You let a few tears fall down your cheeks but it's the kind of tears of relief from an intense orgasm.

Jungkook presses his front against your back, not caring that his come is still on you. He starts kissing your face again then rubs his nose up and down your throat. "Just breathe, yeah?" he says quietly. You nod weakly against his hold and do just that. The both of you say nothing as you try to calm your racing heart.

You don't know how many minutes pass by until Jungkook stands up. You don't have the strength in you to move your position on the bed or ask where he's going. A few minutes later you feel a wet rag on your back. You let Jungkook clean you up while the both of you still don't say a thing. Then he's moving you on the bed again so your head is on the pillows and he's right behind you, lying down comfortably to be the big spoon. You feel him kissing your head.

"Sleep," he mumbles against your hair. With Jungkook holding you and with his steady breaths guiding yours, you fall asleep right away.

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..

You don't know what time it is when you wake up but there's still sunlight peeking through your curtains so you suppose it's still morning. You turn to face the other side of the bed only to find it empty. You don't know what time Jungkook left, if he stayed the night or left the moment you fell asleep. You're used to it already but it doesn't mean you're not hurt. Your heart constricts at the empty space beside you. You move again to lay on your back and cover your face with yours hands, letting out shaky breaths while trying not to breakdown. God, maybe Jimin was right. Just forget about him.

But it's hard not to. It's hard to forget about him when you have sex constantly, when his touches are gentle but also rough. When he wants you to reply to his messages and when he wants you against his body. It's hard because he's friends with your friends. It's hard when he takes care of you after every intense orgasm. It's hard when he makes it seem like he wants you just as much as you want him.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook one shot #bts one shot #jjk one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #fuckboy!jk #fwb!jk #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #mine #sab writes #jk #fwb!jungkook #fuckboy!jungkook

3K notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 9 months ago

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝗟𝗘𝗧'𝗦 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗘𝗦

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N feels pain in her feet from wearing high heels for hours, and Matt gives her his sneakers to wear.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

From an outsider's perspective, the dynamics of the relationship between Y/N and Matt were incredible and unique. The two had their hearts overflowing with love, and they were not ashamed to show it.

Nick joked that the five love languages were few compared to all the ways they loved each other.

But it was safe to say that out of the five, the one that was most part of their daily lives was the language of acts of service, precisely because of their busy schedules and daily tasks.

Matt would do absolutely anything to make his girlfriend's day easier, from turning on the coffee maker in the morning while she took her sacred morning shower, to combing and drying her hair after she washed it. He is always watching her from afar, making little mental notes of new things she does, so he learns and fits them into his routine so that he can help her in the future.

And Y/N isn't far behind, knowing how heavy the routine of recording three times a week can be - sometimes more, when the triplets need to catch up on some podcasts or car videos -, she always comes forward to help his day get lighter, from starting the car in the garage on cold days so the engine is ready when Matt gets in it, to helping him shower after a tiring day, washing his hair with his favorite shampoo while watching him nap in the warm water of the bathtub.

It was Thursday, and Matt and Y/N were leaving yet another weekly date night.

Matt and Y/N had created a habit almost a year back that, every Thursday after the triplets recorded the car video that would be posted the next day, they would have a date night, with the aim of always dedicating quality time together and cultivate a healthy relationship.

Y/N mentally cursed herself for her choice of shoes that night, having opted for high heels.

Don't get me wrong, the girl loved wearing heels and always felt prettier in them; Besides Matt, who was completely in love with the way his girlfriend's legs looked in heels, he said that they looked longer and more appealing, leaving him drooling and staring more than usual.

But if there's one thing they both knew, it was that when Y/N wore high heels for long hours, she always ended up with pain in her feet.

And that was exactly what was happening at that moment, the girl had been wearing those heels on her feet for about three hours and her toes were starting to hurt, squeezed by the front strap, while her heel screamed with every step she took.

It didn't take Matt long to notice her face contorted in pain and how she squeezed his hand - which was intertwined with her own - with every step they took.

The two were walking through the streets of the restaurant where they had dinner, observing the various restaurants and bars open, full of people of all types and music of all tastes, while chatting a bit about their day. This meant they were far from the car, and it would be at least a 10-minute walk to get back to it.

Therefore, Matt abruptly stopped in his tracks as they approached a wooden bench, followed by Y/N, who watched him with a confused expression.

"What is it, baby?" She asked worriedly, traveling her eyes down the street briefly, trying to find what could have made her boyfriend stop so suddenly.

Matt knelt on the sidewalk and removed his sneakers from both his feet, keeping his socks on.

"What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?" The girl looked down at him, watching him with a frown.

"Sit here, baby. Please." Matt asked, standing up on his socks and pointing to the bench, taking Y/N's right hand and helping her sit down on the wooden surface. "Give me your foot." He kneeled on the ground, placing his sneakers near her feet and reaching his hands towards his girlfriend's right foot.

"What? Why?" She asked, eyes wide, feeling cimpletely lost, bending her body slightly forward so that she brought her face closer to his, a sound of pain escaping her lips from the movement.

"You're in pain, my love. Come on, give me your foot. I'll give you my sneakers." Matt explains, touching Y/N's right ankle and pulling lightly.

He raised his blue eyes, looking into his girl's eyes, staring at her so that she understood that he wasn't open for arguments.

Y/N sighed before resting her left hand on the cold and hard surface, lifting her right ankle so that her foot was off the ground. Matt unfastened the buckle on her high heel, leaving it on the sidewalk on his side before reaching for his right sneaker, fitting it onto Y/N's foot with ease.

He untied the shoelaces and tied them again so that they were firmer, knowing that they were bigger than Y/N's feet and could escape with her steps.

The girl kept her eyes on Matt the entire time, feeling her heart speed up more and more and her skin heat up, taking on a reddish tone. She didn't deserve him. He was so kind to her.

Matt carefully lowered the foot he was holding, waiting for her to steady it on the ground before taking her left ankle, doing the same process as before.

When Y/N had both feet inside Matt's white sneakers, the boy adjusted his posture, still crouched, so that he could fit his feet one at a time into the high heels, leaving them unbuckled due to the difference in size, knowing that if he closed it, he could ruin them.

Matt slowly stood up, regaining his balance on the pair of heels that he wasn't used to wearing before intertwining his left hand with Y/N's right, helping her stand up. He briefly adjusted the strap of the black sparkly purse on his left shoulder.

"I can't believe you're doing this." The girl commented as the two walked back to the car, a laugh escaping her throat as she shook her head, watching the wobbly steps her boyfriend took.

"I won't let my princess feel pain. And I didn't want to get dirt on my socks from this sidewalk. Our washing machine thanks us for that." Matt responded with a smile on his face, watching his girlfriend's reaction from the corner of his eye, keeping his focus on his steps in order not to fall.

"I love you, Matt." Y/N squeezed his hand lightly, massaging the soft skin with her thumb.

"I love you more, my love." The boy responded quickly, returning the squeeze.

He let go of his girlfriend's hand as they reached his car, opening the purse on his shoulder and looking for the key, before unlocking the doors, opening the passenger seat for his girlfriend.

Y/N smiled in gratitude, approaching Matt and sealing her lips over his cheek chilled by the cold of the night, stroking the soft skin with the tip of her nose before taking a step away, finally getting into the car.

She felt her heart warm with love while observing him walk around the front of the car with slow steps. She knew that there was nothing in the world he wouldn't do to make her happy and comfortable.

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

607 notes · View notes

lilasamaaa · 6 months ago

Text

A lapse in judgement | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genre | Angst (of course), Hurt/Comfort, Fluff.

Word count | 3.8K

Warnings | Mention of sexual activities, rejection.

Summary | The long-awaited dinner with your in-laws doesn't go as planned... Will you and your boyfriend manage to change their minds about your relationship?

Author's note | I'm back, bitches! This lovely prompt was requested, thank you for the idea Anon! I hope you all like it, please let me know what you think! ✨ (not proofread lmao)

Being the new girlfriend after the one who got away fucking sucks. Even when your lover was the one to end things. It's quite something to be the girl after the one he was supposed to spend his life with. Get married with. Have kids with. You wouldn't wish anyone to be in your place. Yet, here you are, all because you fell in love with him. Carlos Sainz. Him and his doe eyes. His impeccable hair. His charming smile. Frankly, you didn't stand a chance.

You knew who he was, of course. Formula 1 is among your fondest childhood memories, sitting in front of the TV with your siblings and parents. Each Grand Prix was a household event, and you could never bring yourself to part with the Ferrari-colored jacket you wore every race Sunday. It's been years since you've fit into it, but the memory is too precious. So, yes, you knew who he was. And you recognized him immediately when he walked through the door of your workplace, sunglasses perched on his nose.

You don't follow Formula 1 as closely as before. Just enough to keep up with the news. You don't pretend not to know who he is. What's the point in pretending?

"Back from Monza already?" you ask, wiping your hands on a clean towel.

He smiles. A polite smile, but one that seems to indicate he's not keen on chatting. Or at least, not about that. You ask him what he'd like, and he asks for anything with soy milk in it. He orders two, to go, and you smile again. Okay, you think. Understood. The exchange lasts no more than two minutes, and soon, the driver exits the coffee shop, leaving behind a lingering woody scent.

Weeks pass without crossing paths with him again, and honestly, the encounter has completely slipped your mind. That one early morning, though, you're sitting at one of the café tables, contemplating new drinks, new recipes to implement based on some customer feedback, when the little bell chimes behind you. You definitely need to stop leaving the door open to let the floor dry after your morning cleaning session.

You turn around, ready to inform the friendly customer that the café doesn't open for another twenty minutes, when you catch his gaze.

"I know you're not open yet," he starts, putting both hands in front of him. "I saw the sign. But I really need some coffee, and all the other shops are closed."

"I suppose I can make an exception for such an emergency," you say as you rise from your seat, smiling kindly at him. "What can I get you?"

"I don't remember the name of what you made for me last time, but it was incredible. There was..."

"Soy milk?"

"Yeah."

"I'm on it," you say, turning around. "Two?" you ask, feeling like you already know the answer.

"Yes, please."

You hurry behind the bar, preparing the two coffees, and you place them in front of him a few seconds later. He takes out his phone to pay and places it on the terminal, which emits a soft "beep." Then, he picks up one of the coffees before sliding the second one towards you.

"This one's for you," he says, and you barely manage to hide your surprise.

"Oh," you say. "If I had known, I wouldn't have charged you for the second one."

"But it wouldn't have been the same, then. I wouldn't have offered it to you," the driver says, winking at you before taking a step back. "Thank you so much for the favor. Have a good day!"

With that, he's gone. As you sip your hot coffee slowly, you wonder when you'll see him again next time. But already, your employees arrive and pull you from your thoughts.

"That guy outside kinda looked like Carlos Sainz, no?" Lucia, one of them, asks while tying her apron.

"You've seen him? I thought so, too," you reply with a smile.

The next time you see him is the exact opposite. You've just bid your last employee a good evening, and you're putting the chairs up on the tables in preparation for the morning cleanup. A knock on the storefront makes you look up, and you smile when you see him. You open the door, and he slips inside, slightly damp from the light rain falling outside.

"Have you ever heard of opening hours?" you ask while wiping down the countertop.

"Can't say I have," he replies with a grin, the sight making your stomach flutter.

"I think congratulations are in order," you begin, throwing the towel over your shoulder. "That was a clean win in Singapore."

"Thank you. It might be a bit late for a coffee, but would you like to grab a drink with me?"

The proposition takes you by surprise.

"Like? Right now?"

"Yeah. Right now. I know a place not far from here."

"Aren't you afraid of being seen or something?" you ask, arching a brow.

"Never with beautiful women, no."

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. You've been living in Spain for ten years, yet you don't think you'll ever get used to the natural flirty nature of its inhabitants.

"Give me ten minutes to change and close up, and I'll join you," you say, while he nods, sitting on one of the bar stools.

Carlos takes you to a dancing bar, obviously run by friends since he spends five minutes shaking hands and greeting everyone as you enter. He leads you to the back of the bar, to a secluded corner where the music is much quieter, and you can actually have a conversation. You have no idea what to say. Where do you even start with a Formula 1 driver? Someone whose life is so different, so far removed from yours. Sensing your discomfort, Carlos takes the lead, asking you questions about your café, (Did you open it by yourself?) and about your life. (Where are you from? You have an accent).

The evening passes, and the drinks flow until you find yourselves tightly pressed together on the dance floor. Your back against his chest. His hands on your hips. Yours on his neck. Swaying to the rhythm of the music, all senses heightened. His lips don't take long to seek yours, and from the wall of the bar against which he pins you, you transition to his mattress, his warm body pressed against yours.

You don't sleep much that night. You don't know if you'll ever have the chance to see him again. To have him like that again. So, you lavish your lips on his, your body against his. And in the early morning, as you wake up entangled in each other's arms, and you almost expect him to kick you out... He climbs back on top of you instead, pressing warm kisses against your mouth, your collarbones, your navel... You arrive at the café thirty minutes late, with bags under your eyes. It's never happened before, and your employees are so surprised that none of them even think to joke about your poor state.

You don't hear a word from him for the next ten days. Occasionally, you glance at the app you downloaded, which informs you about upcoming races. You know he's in Qatar. You try not to let the little voice in your head win. The one that laughs at you. That tells you that you'll never see him again. He's working, you think. He's busy. Your life goes on, though you can't help but watch for him early in the morning and late at night, your eyes lingering on the storefront.

Then, one day, he comes back. Right in the middle of the shift. Seeing him walk into the café, Lucia lets out a scream and drops the cup she was holding. "Dios mio," she says, clutching her heart. Several seated customers turn around, but nobody seems to pay attention to the tall brunette with caramel eyes whose gaze is fixated on you, from across the counter.

"Soy milk?" you ask, trying to contain your smile.

"Yes, please. Only one."

And then, he starts coming every day. Every day he's not on the other side of the world, that is. By his seventh visit, Lucia can almost serve him his coffee without spilling any, her hands shaking so much.

Outside of the café, the two of you slowly start going to museums. To restaurants. To the cinema. But there's one place you both prefer. His bed. You spend hours there, exploring each other's bodies or talking about everything and nothing. Exchanging thousands of kisses or sharing your worst childhood embarrassments. Moaning against each other or talking about your very first pet. And one evening, as you were recounting how your respective parents had met, he asks you the question.

"Speaking of that, would you like to meet them?"

Your heart skips a beat. It's been six months since you've been seeing each other. Since you've been exclusive. Since you've been a couple, in reality, even if neither of you has dared to say the word. That one, and the other. The one that starts with an L. Even though you know you do... And you sense he does too.

"I don't know," you say, resting your head against his bare chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Have you talked to your family about us?"

"Of course," Carlos says, pressing a kiss to your head. "They know I've been seing someone. And they know it's serious."

"Do they even want to meet me?"

"They haven't asked, if that's your question," your boyfriend replies. "But they never have, with anyone. They know it's something I like to do at my own pace."

You nod, and a few minutes later, the fateful dinner is set for the following Saturday. Already, the ball of anxiety that has lodged itself in your stomach grows. And soon enough, you find yourself standing in front of the door of the imposing Sainz mansion, your throat tight and your hand sweaty in Carlos'.

"Relax," the driver says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before stroking your thumb. "They're not that bad."

Carlos knocks on the door, and a young woman opens it before jumping into your boyfriend's arms. You recognize her instantly from the pictures in Carlos' phone. Blanca. As if pronouncing her name in your head had reminded her of your existence, Blanca turns her head, smiling politely in your direction.

"Nice to meet you," she says rather blankly before gesturing for you two to come inside.

You encounter his other sister, Ana, in the hallway a few seconds later. She isn't much warmer, not even offering a smile and simply saying "Welcome" before rushing to hug her brother. The reception from the two women surprises you a little, and doesn't really help you feel confident about the evening. Carlos doesn't seem phased by the situation, helping you out of your coat before guiding you to the living room where the two young women have already disappeared. You're about to walk through the door when your eyes stop on a series of frames hung across from the front door. Your heart skips a beat. Feeling you come to a halt, Carlos stops as well, following your gaze.

"Fucking hell," your boyfriend says before taking the frame off the wall and placing it upside down on the buffet below. "I'm sorry. This photo has been there for so long that they probably don't even notice it anymore," he adds, his tone apologetic.

You know he's trying to reassure you, but his words have the opposite effect. You've briefly talked about your exes. Well, more about his. Isa. The girl he was with for seven fucking years. The one his parents loved so much. Seeing a photo of them together right before meeting your in-laws is like a knife to the heart. A reminder that you're the new girl. The one replacing her. You muster a smile that you know is fake at Carlos before continuing on your way. As you arrive in the living room, his two parents stand up from the couch, rushing to their son to hug him.

The embraces last a few seconds, until they turn to you. You greet them politely, handing his mother a huge bouquet of flowers and his father a bottle of fine wine, as they thank you with strained smiles.

"I also brought chocolates from my shop for you," you continue, turning to his sisters sitting at the dining table. "They're from a small producer in Andalusia, a real treat..."

"How kind of you," Blanca says dryly.

You miss the glance that Carlos shoots his sister, behind you. A stern look. One that scream "be careful". One Blanca pretends not to see.

"Let's sit down," Carlos' mother announces, gesturing for everyone to take a seat.

Intimidated, you stick close to Carlos, sitting next to him. The table is beautiful, adorned with fine porcelain and various flowers. You smile as you spot silver napkin rings and pick up the one in front of you. Your next breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes land on the letters engraved in the metal. Isabel.

"Ah yes, sorry," Ana begins, following your gaze. "We didn't have time to make a new one. I hope you don't mind."

"It's fine," you say, looking up and smiling at her.

"So, dear, what do you do?" Carlos' father asks. "Carlos told us about a café, but we didn't quite understand."

"I opened my own café a few years ago. We also serve fresh pastries that I bake every morning. It's really taking off; I have several employees now, and I'm planning to open a second one soon..."

"Did you study culinary arts?" her mother asks.

"Uh, no, I don't have any degree," you reply with a nervous laugh. "School just wasn't my thing."

Ana and Blanca exchange a glance, and you lower your head, feeling your cheeks flush. You feel Carlos' hand on your thigh, and you cast him a grateful glance, which he doesn't see, his eyes fixed on his sisters.

"And so, the two of you met at the café, is that right?" his father resumes.

"Yes, that's right," you reply with a smile. "In May, the first time."

"In May?" Ana asks, looking at her brother. "Weren't you still with Isa?"

"Are we gonna mention her all night?" Carlos snaps.

"It's just a question, no need to get upset," Ana replies, rolling her eyes.

"Did you know who he was?" Blanca asks, holding your gaze.

"Uh, yeah, I recognized him. But I served him like any other customer," you recount.

"It must be weird," Ana continues, as your attention turns from her sister to her. "To see a celebrity walk into your little café."

"It's actually not so little," Carlos says. "It's pretty well-known in Madrid. Lots of customers."

"Never been," Blanca says curtly.

Carlos's mother gestures for her daughters to follow her, and the three women disappear in the kitchen before returning a few minutes later with their hands full of various dishes.

"Carlos told us you love to eat," his mother continues, giving you a genuine smile. "It's good that he didn't choose a very slender girl, for once," she adds, as you tilt your head. Was that supposed to be a compliment?

"What are your plans after the café?" Carlos' father asks, chewing on a piece of chicken. "Now that this first project has worked out?"

"I beg your pardon?" you ask, genuinely confused.

"What are you going to do with your life now?" Ana asks.

"Well... I'm going to keep running the café? It's my sanctuary, my biggest project. I'm so proud of it, I'm not going to give it all up now."

"Oh," his father replies, eyeing you. "I'd understood it was temporary. That you were a kind of investor."

"No," you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "That's... That's what I do."

The silence falls over the table, punctuated by the clinking of utensils. After a short while, Carlos's mother clears her throat, meeting your gaze.

"Forgive our questions. We're curious to get to know the person Carlos shares his life with. You have to understand, after seven years... You always know what you've lost, but you can never know what you've gained."

"And that was quite a loss," Blanca chimes in, sipping on her wine.

"You can't trust anyone these days. You never know if they love you for you or for your wallet," Ana states, looking at her perfectly manicured nails.

"Or your contact list," Blanca adds, shooting a glance your way.

"Okay," Carlos suddenly says, throwing his napkin on the table before getting up. "That's enough. We're leaving."

"What?" you say, looking up at him.

"They're clearly not ready for this. We'll come back when they finally understand that my ex is just that - my ex. Get your things, love."

You stand up, feeling your legs tremble, as Carlos' hand find the small of your back, pushing you towards the hallway.

"Don't be ridiculous," his mother says, standing up as well. "You can't expect us to forget seven years just like that."

"I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking you to respect my partner. But apparently, that's too difficult."

A few seconds later, Carlos is backing out of his parents' driveway, one arm around your seat, his gaze fixed on the rear window. In the passenger seat, you fidget with your fingers, staring at your hands and biting your lip nervously. His brows are furrowed. Jaw clenched. None of you exchange a word until you hit the main road, headlights from passing cars casting shadows on your faces.

"I'm so sorry," he finally says, stroking your thigh. "If I had known..."

"You couldn't," you reply, placing your hand on his. "I don't blame them. Seven years is no small thing."

Turning his head, his gaze meets yours.

"I won't pretend that those seven years didn't matter to me, that they meant nothing. Even though I don't have any romantic feelings for her anymore, she will always be a part of me in some way," he says, as you feel your heart tighten in your chest. "But she no longer occupies my thoughts. She's no longer imprinted under my eyelids. It's not her fingers that give me chills, her voice that makes my heart race. All day long, I think about you. I talk about you. Even at night, I dream of you. You're right beside me, so close, and yet it's not enough. You still find a way to get closer, to flow through my veins, to infiltrate every breath, every heartbeat."

"Sometimes I wish I could see myself through your eyes. That girl sounds exceptional," you say, laughing as you wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes."

"She's quite something," he replies, eyes on the road. "I can't wait for them to realize."

After the disastrous first encounter with your in-laws, over six months pass before Carlos comes join you on the terrace of your shared hotel room in Jeddah, placing a coffee in front of you. Bending down to sit beside you, the pilot winces, a hand on his stomach.

"Are you okay?" you ask, running your hand through his hair.

"I feel so fucking sick," your boyfriend says, a painful grimace on his face.

"Shouldn't you see a doctor, babe?" you ask, stroking his arm. "You look awfully pale. And you haven't eaten since yesterday morning."

"I can't keep anything down," Carlos replies, throwing his head back before closing his eyes.

"Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro," you start, earning a small grin from your boyfriend.

"I just love when you call me that."

"There's no way you're getting in that car tomorrow," you insist.

You didn't think you'd be so right. Well, not to this extent. Hurrying through the corridors of the hospital, two large aluminum trays in each hand, you dodge doctors and nurses along the way, weaving through visitors until you reach the door marked with the number you're looking for. You knock on the door, slipping inside before turning around to close it behind you.

"I wasn't sure what you'd prefer, so I got both," you begin, still facing the door, handle in hand. "The paella was quite easy to find, but I admit I had to cross the entire city for..." your sentence dies in your throat when, turning around, your eyes meet those of your mother-in-law. Then your father-in-law's. And your two sisters-in-law, crowded in Carlos' small hospital room.

"Oh," you utter, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know you'd be there. I'll leave you alone," you start, turning around once again.

"No! Stay," Carlos' mother says, rising to take the trays from you.

"We're really happy to see you again," his father says, rising as well to embrace you. "Carlos was telling us how well you took care of him. Thank you so much for being there."

"That's the least I could do," you reply, feeling intimidated. "He would have done the same for me."

"I may love you, but I'm not sure I would have slept in that armchair. Or changed your blood-soaked bandage," Carlos replies, eyes half-closed, still under the influence of anesthesia.

"You did what?" Blanca asks, turning to look at you, eyes wide.

"Well, his nurse was busy and it started leaking," you shrug.

"You slept here?" his father asks.

"They wouldn't let me at first, but I didn't feel like leaving him alone in a foreign hospital."

"She annoyed the staff so much they just gave up on throwing her out," your boyfriend lets out in a laugh.

"I didn't annoy anybody," you reply quickly, fearing what his family might think.

"You threatened an intern to tie yourself to the chair."

"I didn't do that," you half-laugh, shooting your boyfriend a warning look.

Seated on the side of Carlos' bed, bickering with your boyfriend while running your hand through his hair in a loving gesture, you don't see the glance exchanged between the Sainz family.

"We were thinking about something, before you arrived..." Ana begins, her eyes finding yours. For the first time, you're not met with her harsh, cold gaze, but with gentle eyes. "We have a family house in Mallorca. We thought it would be nice to all go there together, so Carlos can recover in peace. We would be very happy if you joined us."

"It'll be a chance for us to get to know you. And to apologize for our pathetic behavior last time."

"Carlos chose you," his mother starts, smiling warmly at you. "And we all understand why."

You could cry with happiness at the thought of finally being accepted, being welcomed into the family of the person you've shared your life with for almost a year now. At no longer being the new girl. The one after the love of his life.

At the though of maybe, simply being the one.

The real one, this time.

#f1 #f1 2024 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #cs55 x you #cs55 x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #cs55 x female reader #formula1 imagine #formula1 #formula one

391 notes · View notes

bellaxgiornata · 7 months ago

Text

All These Years [Part 21: "The Sound of Your Voice"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.7k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut [Comfort now exists in this series!!]

a/n: It has be SO LONG since this series got a much needed update!! But here we are with yet another little bittersweet installment. Though I'm working on a happier next part already tentatively titled "Declarations and Desire." And hopefully the tags at the bottom of the post worked, tumblr was giving me issues with the tag list for a few days. Feedback is always appreciated!

Lowering yourself down onto your couch, your eyes focused on the show you'd thrown on to watch while you ate, you felt your tired body relax into the cushions. Adjusting the plate of food in your lap, you made yourself comfortable for the evening.

You'd had a meeting at work which had run late with your boss tonight and that was the reason behind you sitting down to eat takeout for dinner at almost seven tonight. You were tired and ready to just relax for the evening, looking forward to the phone call later that you’d come to expect from Matt just before you went to bed. It was usually when he’d return from his night out as Daredevil, giving the three hour time difference between you both at least one positive advantage because it meant that you could go to bed at a reasonable hour and still know he’d gotten back home safe.

You’d be lying if you said it hadn’t been difficult trying to navigate your new relationship with Matt ever since you’d come back from your brief visit to Hell’s Kitchen a month ago, though. The pair of you still talked everyday, whether it was via phone calls or texts periodically throughout the day. Matt had even begun leaving you sweet voicemails some mornings when he first got to work, knowing that shortly afterwards you’d be waking up on the other side of the country getting to hear his voice first thing. It always managed to make you smile starting off your day with one of those messages from him, and you’d quickly come to realize just how incredibly sweet and thoughtful he really was every time he left one. Which unfortunately also made you only miss him just that much more, desperate to be able to wake up beside him and hear him say all those things straight to you instead of over a voice message.

You’d also quickly come to realize that Karen had been right. You’d found yourself regretting not taking the opportunity to be more physically intimate with Matt while you’d been in New York and had the chance. You found yourself frequently thinking about Matt in sexual scenarios more often than not since you’d returned to L.A., which often resulted in you being quite sexually frustrated most of the time. His outright flirting with you over the phone hadn’t helped, either. Sometimes once you’d finished a phone call with him before bed, you’d found yourself needing a few minutes with your vibrator just to ease the ache he’d–sometimes intentionally–created between your legs. And often as you’d gotten off, you’d wondered if he was back in his own apartment in New York taking care of himself, too. And that thought only equally further frustrated you and turned you on more every time.

Without a doubt in your mind, when Matt came to visit you in Los Angeles in a matter of weeks, you were certainly not taking sex off of the table. Especially now that you both were officially a couple and with how many years you’d both been waiting for and wanting the other. Because who knew how soon you’d have another opportunity to see him again afterwards for that chance? You’d certainly spent enough years trying to imagine what it would be like to sleep with him, and you were without a doubt tired of only imagining it.

You also knew you wanted to tell him how you felt when you finally got the chance to see him in a few weeks. Of course the word ‘love’ had been mentioned between you both quite a few months ago when you'd first discovered your feelings had been reciprocated for each other, but neither of you had ever actually said it to the other since. Many times you'd found yourself biting your tongue when you were on the phone with Matt, struggling to not blurt it out to him. Often you found yourself overcome with the urge to tell him those three words at the end of a phone call, or to call him up after hearing one of his morning voicemails just so he knew exactly how you truly felt without a question of a doubt after the years of misunderstandings. But it was something you wanted to say to him in person when the moment felt right, not something you wanted to blurt out when he was too far for you to hold in your arms. Though you were dying to finally say it to his face after all these years, and you were even more anxious to hear him hopefully say it back to you in return.

As you were halfway through eating your sandwich wrap, your attention focused on the mindless show you’d thrown on, you heard your phone begin to loudly ring from across your apartment. Chewing the bite of food you'd just taken, you glanced over your shoulder towards your kitchen where you’d left your phone on the countertop once you’d gotten home. Curiously you eyed the device and its lit screen from a distance, wondering who would be calling you right now. Normally Matt didn’t call for another couple of hours; it should have been far too early for it to have been him. But then the fear that something might be wrong hit you and you quickly swallowed down the bite of food, feeling a little sick to your stomach at the thought. Especially with you being too far away to do anything to help.

Leaning forward, you set your plate down onto your coffee table and rose to your feet. You quickly made your way towards your kitchen, your phone still ringing loudly from its place on the countertop as nerves swirled in your stomach, mixing with your dinner. When you were near enough to your phone to see the name displayed on the screen, you were surprised to see it was in fact Matt calling you. Brows furrowing at the sight of his name, you felt worry and concern further fill you as your hand darted out, picking the phone up in a rush before frantically sliding the button over to answer the call.

“Matt?” you asked, feeling slightly panicked. “Is everything alright? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“What?” he asked, sounding confused. “Yeah, of course everything is okay, sweetheart. Why would you think something was wrong?”

You sighed in relief, the tension easing from your shoulders as you leaned back against the counter behind you. You didn’t even know what you’d do if he’d called because he was bleeding out in his apartment right now.

“Because it's a bit early for your usual phone call,” you pointed out. “Normally you’re out later than this so you call me later. I just figured something was wrong.”

“Ahh, I see,” he answered. “I’m sorry to have scared you, sweetheart. I didn’t think calling you early would have you thinking something was wrong. But I actually wasn’t planning to go out tonight, which was why I figured I’d call sooner.”

“Not going out as Daredevil?” you questioned curiously. “Because you have too much work to deal with?”

Matt laughed, the sound sweet and soothing as it came through the line. You couldn’t help but relax even more at the sound of it, a smile sliding onto your own face as your racing heart began to slow. You longed to hear him laugh in person again, to be able to actually see the way his eyes lit up when he did.

“If that was the case,” he began, “calling you would be a far bigger distraction than just running out as Daredevil for a bit tonight.”

That usual warmth you felt whenever you spoke to Matt soon flooded you, your body sinking down into one of the nearby breakfast bar stools behind you at your counter. Your dinner and the show you’d been watching were quickly forgotten in the other room as you focused on your conversation and the sound of his voice instead.

“How am I the bigger distraction?” you asked him.

“Well for starters, if there isn’t any crime, there’s no need for Daredevil,” Matt explained. “So if the city is quiet, which it thankfully is tonight, there isn’t much need for me and therefore there’s nothing for me to do. But you on the other hand are always there for me to call. And most importantly, sweetheart,” he continued, his voice dropping to that sultry register he often used to flirt with you over the phone–the one he somehow knew had an effect on you, “I could sit and listen to you on the other line doing literally anything, even just snoring, until the sun came up. Whereas eventually I have to come back home and be Matt Murdock again when I go out in the suit. Therefore you’re the bigger distraction to me.” He paused briefly before adding, “But no, that’s not the reason I'm staying in tonight, either.”

You crossed your legs in your chair, curiously noting the sudden shift in his tone. He almost sounded…sad? Like something was bothering him. You’d certainly known Matt long enough to know when he sounded off, even over a phone.

“Sounds like something is wrong, though,” you gently pointed out. “What’s on your mind, Matty? Did something happen?”

Matt expelled a long, drawn out sigh over the line. The noise had your lips curving into a frown, especially with how exhausted he had already sounded when you’d first answered. You wished you were there with him in his apartment now, wished you could pull him into a hug because it sounded like he needed one. You'd happily sit there and hold him, comforting him as long as he needed it.

In that moment you found yourself missing the way you’d always had such easy access to each other in college; all you’d had to do back then was walk over to his residence hall and take the elevator up to his dorm. If you wanted to stay up all night talking and drinking, you really could have just skipped a class in the morning. Things had certainly been much simpler back then in some ways more than they were now, though you definitely didn’t miss the heartache you had always carried around not knowing Matt had been within your reach in more than one way that entire time.

“Nothing really,” he told you, his voice sounding a little dejected and worn. “It was just a really difficult week this week and I was having a…bad day, I suppose. I just missed the sound of your voice, if I’m being honest.”

You felt the ghost of a smile cross your lips at his words. You knew that feeling all too well. Truthfully you felt it every single day when you thought about him, but even more on the days that were long and draining. Days like today.

“I’m always just a phone call away, Matty,” you assured him. “But I miss you, too. I’ve been missing you more than usual lately myself.”

“Little less than three weeks and I’ll be right there with you, sweetheart,” he reminded you softly.

There was a smile in his voice, you could hear it in the way it had coated each and every word of his. Matt was not alone in counting down the days until you could pick him up from the airport and have him all to yourself in L.A. for a little while. You’d already been trying to plan things out, wondering what he might enjoy doing with you the most while he was here.

“I’m excited to show you around out here,” you told him, a small smile making its way back onto your lips. “Take you away from that cold New York winter for a bit. Maybe I can bring you to a beach out here, one not filled with tourists. My coworker showed me a good place shortly after I moved here.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, a brightness returning to his voice already. “I’ve never been to the ocean before. Or a beach.”

“I know,” you told him. “Figured it might be a fun experience. Or at least…I’m hoping it is for you, considering your, you know, heightened senses.”

“Anything I get to do with you while I’m out there will be amazing, sweetheart,” he assured you. “I'm just going to be happy to be with you again. It's already been far too long.”

You ducked your head, your nails nervously toying with the hem of your cotton shorts you’d thrown on after work. He always knew the right thing to say to you, but you could also hear the truth to his words. Honestly you felt the same. You’d easily be content to never leave your apartment for a single minute over the few days he’d be staying with you. If you could curl up with him on your couch for the entire duration of his visit, you’d be blissfully happy.

“Plus,” he continued, his coy tone breaking through your thoughts, “a beach date most likely means you’d be in a swimsuit, right?”

Heat began to creep up your neck and into your cheeks. You’d certainly thought about the implication of a beach date meaning Matt would most likely be shirtless and splayed out on a towel with you, cuddling under the warm California sun. Giving you ample opportunity to appreciate his body and the muscles that his clothing always hinted at, something you’d never once been able to do before as his friend.

“I mean, yes,” you answered softly. “But what does that matter, exactly?”

“Ohh trust me, sweetheart,” Matt began with a deep, amused chuckle, “there’s plenty of ways for me to appreciate you partially dressed on a beach. Where my eyes might fail me, my hands certainly won’t.”

Your cheeks began to flame at the thought of what he might mean by that, your eyes slowly closing. Once more you found yourself mentally kicking yourself for not sleeping with Matt when you’d had the chance last month. Because once again you were beginning to feel that all too familiar dull ache between your legs that was begging to be relieved by him and him alone.

Clearing your throat, you tried to change the topic before you found yourself too worked up. Something you weren’t entirely sure wasn't intentional even now.

“So what exactly was on the agenda for you tonight then?” you asked him. “If you weren't going out?”

“Ahh, well,” he began, sounding a little sheepish, “truthfully I was just going over some documents and counting down the minutes until I could realistically call you after work. But I eventually caved because I couldn’t make myself wait any longer.”

You sighed, spinning around in the breakfast bar stool towards your counter. Leaning forward, you rested your chin in your hand. “Why couldn't you have gotten the ability to fly with those heightened senses of yours, too?” you joked. “Or like, the ability to teleport? Then you could just show up here whenever you want.”

Matt laughed lightly over the line and you closed your eyes, trying to pretend he was here sitting beside you. You would’ve given anything for that.

“I'm sorry, I didn't exactly get a choice in what those chemicals did to me as a kid,” he joked back. “Nor could I have foreseen the usefulness of that for a long distance relationship in the future.”

“I know, I know,” you murmured. “I just wish you weren't so far. I miss you.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he whispered back, the mirth disappearing from his voice.

A silence fell over the line, the only sound being Matt’s quiet and even breaths. Those three words once more rose to the surface in your mind, dancing on the tip of your tongue. You wanted so badly to just say them already as you sat there, but you knew now wasn't the right time. Thumbnail slipping between your teeth, you began to half-heartedly chew it as you fought to shove the urge to tell Matt how you felt about him back down. That ache in your chest returned as you did, reminding you that even though you finally had Matt, you didn’t have him how you’d always wanted him. Not exactly. Not yet.

“So how’s work been for you this week?” he asked, voice breaking through your thoughts.

“Eh,” you said, shrugging a shoulder. “Busy, even though nothing much exciting is happening at the office. Still certainly a lot less stressful than your week sounded with that big trial you were dealing with.”

A sigh slipped out of your lips as you continued to distractedly chew your thumbnail. If only you had a way to leave L.A. and realistically move back to Hell’s Kitchen. If only things could be different between you two now that you were finally together. If only you could just decide that you wanted to stop by his apartment and then just go there. Like how things used to be back in college.

“Something on your mind?” Matt asked.

“Not really,” you answered. “Was sort of just…missing how it was easier for us to get together back when we were at Columbia. All those Saturday nights I could just show up with a pack of beer at your guys’ dorm and lose track of time. Go grab breakfast together at the dining hall the next morning with you two while we were all still hungover.”

Matt laughed lightly on the other end of the line. “If only I wouldn’t have been an idiot and just told you how I felt, maybe we wouldn’t have wasted so much time. And maybe you wouldn’t be…”

His voice trailed off, his thought left hanging unfinished over the line. Though you knew what he’d been about to say without him having to say it. Maybe if he’d told you how he felt, you might not have been so far away in L.A. right now. If you’d known how he felt, you might never have left in the first place.

But there was no way to change the past now.

“Hey, do you remember that one night at the bar?” you asked Matt, sitting up straighter in the stool as a memory came back to you. “Back at Columbia, when you called me a female version of Foggy?”

Matt groaned loudly over the line, a grin growing wide over your lips at the sound of it. You could just picture him throwing his head back as he sat on his couch, remembering that moment from all those years ago.

“Yes, I remember,” he told you. “Though I don’t think I’d thought about that night in a long time. That was the real reason why you left crying that night though, wasn’t it? Because I’d called you a female Foggy?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “Definitely not the thing you want to hear your crush tell you. That you’re basically the equivalent of their best friend.”

“Shit,” Matt cursed, laughing a little. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t truly know just how hurtful that comment was. I hadn’t meant it to be. But what has you bringing that up?”

You shrugged, aware he couldn’t see the gesture. Slipping your nail out from between your teeth, you began to trace the patterns in the quartz of your countertop.

“I’ve always wondered why you’d said that,” you confessed.

“Because I’m an idiot, clearly,” Matt replied, causing you to giggle. “But honestly I’d meant it as a compliment. And I think when I’d picked up on how awful you’d felt thinking you weren’t good enough for Fog at the time–because that’s who I’d suspected you might be talking about–I was hoping it would help your situation. As much as I didn’t want to see you two together, in that moment it pained me to feel how bad you were hurting sitting there next to me. I was hoping that if you’d possibly meant Fog, that the comment would get him to see just how much you both had in common.” Matt exhaled a deep breath, pausing for a moment. “Though it was…clearly a stupid comment to make at the time. And it killed me to know how much it upset you that night after the fact. I’d never meant to make you feel like that.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, finger still tracing the stone of your counter, “I know.”

“Suppose I wasn’t always as smooth as I thought I was back then,” he muttered.

“As long as you don’t feel that way about me now,” you teased back. “I’m certainly hoping you view me a little differently than a female Foggy.”

“Oh trust me,” Matt said, his voice dropping back down to that sultry tone, the one now raising the hair along your forearms as it rumbled right into your ear, “there’s only one of you that I’d like to crawl into bed with and do all sorts of things to, and it’s certainly not Foggy.”

You felt the heat not just creeping back into your cheeks at his words, but now flooding your entire body and sending your blood rushing south. Raising your hand from the cold stone, you pressed the back of it against your burning cheek. Tongue slipping out, you nervously wet your lips.

“Well maybe in a few more weeks you can finally do a few of those things,” you shyly whispered back.

Matt made a pleased noise in his throat, the sound only causing your thighs to press together on the stool. Swallowing hard, your eyelids dropped closed. You could feel your pulse beginning to race, your heart pounding hard in your chest.

“I was certainly planning on it, sweetheart,” he whispered back. “Now you’re only making me look forward to my visit even more.”

“You’re not the only one,” you replied. “I uh, don’t exactly want to waste anymore time when it comes to that.”

“I think we’ve already wasted enough time,” Matt agreed.

And just like that, you knew tonight would inevitably be another night spent with your vibrator when this call finally ended. But you knew you’d be lying in your bed wishing you had Matt between your legs instead, and that only made you more desperate to somehow find your way back to Hell’s Kitchen and back to him.

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks @mattmurdocksstarlight @yeonalie @will-delete-this-later-probably @darkened-writer @kmc1989 @yomamasitsaroundthehouse @sumo-b98 @mrs-bellingham @shouldbestudying41 @midnightreids @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @pazii @littlenosoul @haydensith @anehkael @kezibear @dorothleah

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock series

240 notes · View notes

cinnaleaf · 2 months ago

Text

「 Wildflower | One Shot 」

Anon Request: Trent x best friend!reader "Wildflower - Billie Eilish" | MASTERLIST

genre: pure angst wc: ~1.6k a/n: thank you for all your requests, i hope my interpretation fuels your angsty little hearts!

You never meant to love him like this.

Being his best friend wasn't supposed to hurt this bad. You were always in the background, like the wildflowers that grow on the side of the road. Delicate, yet resilient and waiting to be seen. You were always right in front of Trent, ready to give him everything but he kept looking past you and you hated it. Why were you still standing there, loving him when he already chose someone else?

Zoë.

You didn't hate her even though you really wanted to. She was pretty much everything you weren't. Her presence lit up any room, like a sunflower basking in the sun, drawing everyone's attention without doing much at all. Then there was you..a little wildflower growing in the shadows. Unnoticed. It wasn't Zoë's fault Trent treated you the way he did and you knew that, but you couldn't help feeling a little jealous every time you saw them together. You tried to ignore it, but you could feel Trent pulling away from you. He was being cold, distant, and mean. You didn't understand why and it hurt.

“I dunno why you're still here, Y/N,” Trent muttered in a sharp tone, pulling his hoodie over his head as he glanced at you. You were lounging on the couch, scrolling through your phone like you always did. The two of you grew up together and were practically inseparable, until now.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” you asked, feeling knots in your stomach. “You're always around,” he said, his gaze not quite meeting your eyes. “like I need you here or something.” His words slapped you in the face. You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over. “If you want me to leave..just say that. You don't have to be so damn rude about it.” Trent scoffed, running his hands over his face before looking back at you with cold eyes. “I'm saying it now, yeah?”

Something had changed, and you didn’t understand why.

“I know you don’t mean to hurt me, so I’ll keep it to myself” was like a mantra you kept repeating to yourself, willing yourself to believe it. You wanted it to be true so badly. You loved him but you wouldn't date admit it to him, especially not now.

You didn’t know he loved you just as much as you loved him. He tried so hard to avoid the feelings he had for you, even if it meant pushing you away. It wasn’t something he was ready to tackle yet. He was dating Zoë in an effort to distract himself from the way he felt about you.

A couple of weeks later, you were at a random bar. It wasn't your usual spot, but Zoë invited you for whatever reason. She was sitting next to you, stirring her drink with a paper straw that was clearly getting soggy. You weren't close to her like you were with Trent, but she asked you to meet up and curiosity got the best of you. She was complaining for the last fifteen minutes, but you weren't really listening until something she said cut through the noise in your head.

“I don't know what's up with Trent,” Zoë said, sounding frustrated. “He doesn't even touch me like he used to anymore. He's there but he's not at the same time. I don't get it. He'll kiss me but then it's like his mind is somewhere else. It's so frustrating.” You froze as your fingers tightened around the glass in front of you. Every time Zoë told you something about him, it stung. He had been pulling away from you for months, but why was he pulling away from Zoë? Your heart did a stupid little flip, thinking maybe the reason he was acting so weird had to do with something else and not you.

“It's weird though,” Zoë added, not noticing the way your face went stone cold. “Sometimes he'll be staring at me and it's like he's trying, but then he just...doesn't.” Her words lingered in the air, you hated how much they made you yearn for something you never had. You wanted to know what it felt like to be held by him the way she did. You wanted to feel his lips on yours, his hands on your waist. You wanted him to really see you. But you weren't her. You weren't the sunflower in his life and it was crushing you.

“Maybe he's just stressed with the season? He gets intense sometimes…” you offered, knowing that probably wasn't it. All of you were lying. To yourself, and to each other. There was no good answer for any of this. Zoë nodded, continuing to swirl her drink as she pondered. “Maybe,” she sighed, resting her chin on her hand. “I really miss how it used to be when he’d come home from a match and kiss me like I was the only thing he cared about.”

The thought of Trent kissing her and holding onto her like she was everything he needed made your chest tighten. You spent years being his best friend, hoping for scraps of affection just to not get any at all. Meanwhile, Zoë got all of it, even if it seemed to be fading.

It wasn't fair, but life never is. C'est la vie.

You stood in the stands of Anfield, surrounded by cheering fans. You shoved your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. It was cold but Zoë's words still swirled around in your head, making you shiver. You didn't even know why you were at the match, but you were. You always went to every single one. Watching Trent move across the pitch was fun to look at any other time; he was a force out there. Would he even acknowledge you or look in the crowd for you like he used to? Or would you just be another face lost in a sea of red? You caught sight of Zoë a few rows in front of you, looking picture perfect as always. She was laughing with her friends, showing not a care in the world. Maybe they fixed things?

For the next 90 minutes your mind kept drifting, not focusing on the match at all. You wondered what it would be like having Trent come home to you, kissing you and telling you how much fun he had on the pitch. You used to be that person, albeit not in the way you wanted to be because there were never any kisses shared. Suddenly, it hit you in the middle of the match. You weren't jealous of Zoë, you were jealous of the version of Trent that was open and affectionate toward her. The version you never had and probably would never receive.

The crowd erupted into cheers after Liverpool secured the win. You should've been celebrating along with them but instead, you felt hollow. Your eyes followed Trent as he jogged off the pitch, he was in celebratory mode, joking with the team and laughing. He glanced at the stands for a quick second, and you thought maybe he was looking for you. Your heart did that stupid little flip again, even though you knew better. His eyes landed on Zoë and your stomach dropped.

You couldn't do this anymore.

Without taking a second to think, you slipped out of your seat and headed to the exit as the noise of the stadium faded into the background. You didn't want to be there when he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. You can't look. Not tonight. Not ever again.

Your phone pinged as you made your way through the crowd but you ignored it. It was probably just a group chat about the match or a text from someone checking to see if you were still at the stadium. It really didn't matter anymore because you weren't coming back. You pushed through the exit, walking for what seemed like forever. You didn't want to stop because stopping meant thinking, and you did not want to think about Trent right now. He was never going to see you the way you saw him and you were done waiting for it to happen. Did he even notice that you were gone?

He noticed.

The seat you always sat in was empty. He got used to scanning the crowd for you, it was his usual routine. You would always give him a smile or a thumbs up, but tonight there was nothing.

Zoë was next to him talking about dinner plans, but he wasn't really listening. He couldn't stop thinking about you, and he knew he messed up. Something in his heart tugged, it was a feeling that had been there for a couple of months now. He kept ignoring it because it was easier that way. Pushing you away and acting like nothing changed was easier than admitting he loved you. And now you weren't there.

He glanced at Zoë, who was on her phone posting a picture they took post match. She didn't notice he was quiet, but he knew you would've noticed. You were always there through everything. The good, the bad, the ugly, the wins, and the losses. You were his rock, his constant. But he was so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he was scared to admit you were more than a friend to him.

You were his wildflower, always there, waiting for him to see you. For the first time he realized he was too busy chasing the sun to notice the beauty growing that was right beside him for years.

You were his everything, and now you were gone.

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander x reader #trent alexander arnold angst #footballer x reader #trent alexander x you #trent alexander arnold imagine

102 notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 1 year ago

Note

I just saw a recent interview Stanway where she says she’s learning how to tattoo, so maybe something where Georgia convinces reader to tattoo them and it’s just cute fluff

inkmaster II g.stanway

"she's getting pretty good you know?" you looked up from your book as vik appeared, nodding to your girlfriend working away in the corner of his tattoo studio. "she harassed you to try it on some real skin yet?" the man grinned as you playfully rolled your eyes. "only every single day."

"you any closer to saying yes?" he smiled knowingly. "maybe a little. like you said, she's getting pretty good." you admitted fondly, marking your place in your book as vik disappeared to greet a client out front.

not wanting to throw her off you walked behind where georgia was tattooing, watching over her shoulder as she concentrated, hair thrown up into a messy bun and the sleeves of her baggy t-shirt rolled up out of the way showing off the dozens of little tattoos littering her arms.

"hello you." she paused, flicking off the tattoo gun and carefully place it beside the prosthetic fake skin she was practicing on. "looks good amor." you complimented as she swiveled her chair around to face you, tugging you down to sit on her lap.

"you look good." she grinned cheekily, her thick accent sending you swooning. "would vik let you tattoo someone yet?" you questioned with a small smile, watching georgias face absolutely light up at your question.

"wait here!" she gently moved you off of her and raced away making you laugh quietly and take a seat, admiring the small designs she had been practicing just moments before.

"he said yes! he has to supervise me and i can't charge ya, not that i would do that obviously, but he said yes!" georgia beamed, grin from ear to ear as she came sprinting back into the room. "do ya know what you want?" georgia asked and you nodded, standing to retrieve your phone.

"wait. baby are ya sure?" georgia grabbed your hands, interlocking your fingers and sweetly kissing your palm. "very sure. why? are you scared of what my sisters might say?" you teased, smile widening seeing the way her face instantly paled.

"er i didn't think bout that! maybe not then." georgia worried as you grinned. "baby they both have tattoos too, they will not care!" you assured, reaching up to move some flyaways out of her face.

"anyway. i want these, can you do them?" you showed her your screen, worry replaced with a frown as she inspected the two small designs. "yeah, i think so." she nodded confidently, bending down to reward you with a kiss before running off to grab what she needed.

"okay. ready? ready?" vik sat down beside georgia to watch on as you both nodded, georgia kissing the crook of your elbow as you sent her a smile, laid down on a chair as your arm was stretched out and ready.

"baby tell me if i'm goin too deep and it hurts." georgia warned, eyes glazed over with concern. "it's supposed to hurt, no?" you teased but nodded in agreement making vik chuckle, instructing georgia as she flicked on the tattoo gun.

your chosen designs were all linked in with your family, and though you'd been tattooed before you had seldom in visible places so a lot was on the line here and your girlfriend knew that.

you flinched just a tiny bit as her needle met your skin but once you adjusted to the buzzing and the slight sting you mumbled encouragement over and over to the blonde in front of you whose confidence grew as each minute passed, watched over carefully by vik.

"ya alright love?" georgia checked in as she wiped down the first little tattoo she'd now finished, vik nodding he was also happy with it. "you're doing so good baby, barely hurts." you complimented, your girlfriend blushing slightly which the man beside her was quick to tease her about as she rolled her eyes and flicked the gun back on.

"just try not to think about that you're tattoing la reina's baby sister a week before you play her." "shut up vik man! your makin me dead nervous."

"did you forget your barca jersey in germany hermanita?" you rolled your eyes before you even turned around, your older sister pulling you into a headlock and ruffling your hair before you pushed her off.

"im not picking a team today." you glared at her, refusing to choose between your sister or your girlfriend as they lined up against one another for the champions league, much to the annoyed protests of both parties at your decision.

"hola mami." you smiled, your mother pulling you into a tight hug, not having seen you in over a month now you held her for as long as she needed before you released her and she wiped away a few tears, you quick to promise you would try and come home to visit more.

"you got new tattoos!" your sister realized the moment you'd pulled away from the hug with her. "shut up alba!" you hissed smacking her arm as you all walked into the stadium and up to your seats, your mother well in earshot who only turned with a smile.

"i have long given up reasoning with any of you about what you put on your bodies mija."

"i like them but they are a little....wonky?" you yanked your arm out of her grip as the three of you sat down. "georgia did them. be nice!" you warned only causing her to throw her head back and laugh.

"oh hermana just you wait till ale hears that, your little girlfriend is a dead woman."

"assist and a goal. you played so well gee baby!" you greeted your girlfriend by the barrier with a grin and a kiss, pulling her sweaty form into a hug, murmuring a more quiet condolence for the loss.

"wish my name was on your back." the blonde frowned causing your smile to widen as you kissed away her pout. "any other game you know it would be." you promised softly, glancing up and seeing your eldest sister marching her way over.

"incoming. be strong! don't let her boss you around." you warned as georgia's eyes widened but before she could even speak it was too late. "stanway!" you shot alexia a firm glare as she arrived, slinging an arm over your girlfriends shoulder and steering her away.

"no. you stay!" she warned as you tried to jump the barrier to follow after them, watching on sympathetically as your sister marched the poor girl away from you. "you had a good game." alexia started, georgia stammering out a thank you with wide eyes.

"whats all that then?" keira appeared beside you, pulling you into a hug as you congratulated her for the win. "i let her do it." you smiled, holding out your arm with the fresh tattoos as keira inspected them with a whistle.

"well its been nice knowing her, but she's a dead woman now." "why does everyone keep saying this!"

"so. you have been permanently marking my sister now stanway?" alexia accused, moving to tower over the shorter girl whose face pale as she tried to stammer out an excuse.

"no more. if i find one more single tiny mark on her that i know she was not born with, i will make sure to have the barca crest inked on your face. that is a promise!" alexia warned firmly, georgia nodding repeatedly and rambling out an apology over and over, a satisfied smile settling on the eldest putella's face as once again her arm slung over the midfielder and she walked the two of them back toward you.

"i'll see you at dinner hermana, you too stanway." your sister kissed your forehead and winked to your girlfriend before striding away toward the change rooms.

"are you okay baby? what did she say?" you asked a very pale georgia, keira doubled over in laughter at her best friends expense, having been the one who introduced the two of you in the first place.

"er well i think i need to learn tattoo removal now."

#georgia stanway x reader #georgia stanway #woso x reader #woso blurbs #engwnt #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #alexia putellas x reader

600 notes · View notes

natsgrave · 7 months ago

Text

YOU'RE LOSING ME | wanda maximoff

how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'? do i throw out everything we built or keep it? and you know what they all say, you don't know what you got until it's gone. i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist whispers of heartache m.list

Y/N's POV

What are you really willing to do for love? For someone so important to you?

Well, for me, I'll do everything and anything for that person. Even though it hurts. So much.

I rolled to my side and smile instantly crept into my face. There she is, my girlfriend looking so peaceful. I admire her sleeping state and curved her figures inside my mind.

"You know, it's rude to stare." She suddenly spoke making me laugh.

"What? Can't I admire my gorgeous girl?" I teasingly asked.

She slowly opened her eyes revealing my favorite green eyes, "Good morning, Y/N." she whispered with a smile.

"Good morning, witchy." I softly said with a little laugh that I tried to hide causing her to throw a pillow at me.

I love morning like this. Just us not caring about the world.

Just like the clock works before we know it, we already have to leave the bed to face reality.

"It's nice to finally see you awake, love birds." Tony said as he took a sipped of his coffee.

"We're not love birds, Stark." Wanda replied with the roll of her eyes.

Ah, yes, we're secret because she said and I quote she's not yet ready to come out. I'd be lying if I said it doesn't hurt me one bit because it does. All I want is to love her, out in the open and not like this.

I felt a hand touches my shoulder causing me to go back to reality, I look infront of me and met Wanda's soft gazes, "Are you okay? I've called you so many times."

"Oh, yeah. Don't worry, I'm good." I breathed out and walked away not giving her any second glance.

I walked towards the kitchen and make myself coffee when Natasha spoke.

"Still keeping it a secret?" I didn't even notice she's here. And yes, she's the only one who knows about our relationship. We didn't tell her for the record, she just walked in on us… making out.

Anyway, I look up at her and gave her a defeated smile, "Isn't it obvious?"

"How long are you going to ignore that pain inside your chest?" she asked and I didn't answer because honestly… I don't know either.

"Y/N, when are you going to choose yourself? When are you going to see what your worth really is?" She continues holding my shoulder forcing me to face her.

"I love her." I whispered.

"And I know that, I can see that. Hell, you wouldn't even ignore and bare all this pain if you don't." Nat said and lift my chin, "You're like a sister to me and I don't say this often but I do love you, Y/N. I care for you and it's really hard seeing my little sister getting hurt whether she does it unintentionally." She softly added.

"Nat, I-" The words I was about to say instantly cut off when I heard Wanda's laugh ringing loud. I look behind us and see her laughing with Vision. The fucking red walking toaster.

"Are you sure the reason why she's keeping you both a secret is because she is not yet ready or…?" She asked trailing her last word knowing that I'll know it instantly.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it." I reassured her but deep down, it was for me.

Days turns into weeks which also turn into months. Months and nothing changed, not even a single thing. Every time I try opening the subject to Wanda, she always find a way to divert it into different subject but today, I wouldn't let it happen. Not anymore.

"Wanda, we need to talk." I sternly said as I enter her room.

"Hi to you too, baby." she replied still sitting on her bed.

"We can't go on like this." I directly said starting the topic.

"Y/N, can we–"

"No, we can't. We're going to talk about this right now. God, we've been together for almost three years, Wanda. Three long fucking years and not even single effort you made to change our status."

"Y/N, you know damn well I'm not yet ready to make us public." She said nearly shouting.

"Three years is not enough for you? I didn't say that you make us public, all I want is for the team to know. Just them. I'm tired being your little secret, I'm tired of you being mine just around this goddamn four walls. I respect what you want and need, Wanda. For three years, I prioritized what you want, this, but you have to understand that I can't do this anymore. I can't live like this anymore. I kept pushing my needs aside because I love you, but I can't do it anymore. I want to love you, freely. I kept choosing you, I kept giving you all my best me's until there's nothing left for me. I can't choose you anymore." I ramble, on the verge of crying but I kept all my emotions under control.

"Y/N, I… I'm sorry." Wanda softly said standing infront of me.

"Are you apologizing because you're now realizing all of this or are you apologizing because you still can't give the only thing I want?" I asked quietly.

"I'm sorry because I hurt you and I keep on hurting you."

"THEN TAKE IT AWAY! MAKE THIS GO AWAY BECAUSE I DON'T WANT THIS! DO SOMETHING!" I shouted as my tears finally left my eyes.

"Y/N…"

"Wanda, I don't know anymore. Do I throw out everything we built or keep it? I'm getting tired. I tried, I keep telling myself to wait until you're ready but every time, this voices inside my head kept telling and asking me, are you even going to get there?" I cried out.

"Are you… Are you tired now, Y/N?" she shakily asked.

I nod and wiped my tears, "I'm so tired, Wanda. I feel so lost, this between us made me doubt myself so much. Am I not worth the risk for you? I'm tired of wondering how can you just pretend everyday like we're nothing." I sobbed and sat on the bed as I rest my face on my hands, "I'm tired of saying that I'm okay, that it doesn't hurt. I'm tired of pretending everyday. I'm tired of waiting for you to fulfill your promises. I'm tired of defending you against Nat especially myself. I believed in you, Wanda. I kept waiting but it seems like in this relationship, it's not us against the world. It's me against you." I said between cries looking at her to see her crying as well.

"Y/N, I know whatever I say right now wouldn't change anything. It won't take the pain that I've caused you but trust me, I love you. I really do. I can understand how hurtful it must have been for you. I know that I failed to treat you with the love and respect that you deserve. I am truly sorry for any pain or suffering that I have caused you. It was never my intention to hurt you, and I can only imagine the amount of pain that I have caused you. I want you to know that I am willing to do whatever it takes to make things right between us. I am willing to work on myself and our relationship to ensure that this does not happen again. I know that sorry is not enough to fix the mess I have made. I promise to do everything I can to show you how much I love and value you as my girlfriend." Wanda sobbingly said as she held my hand.

"There, you're making promises once again. How many time did you promise me that you'll make it up to me? at first you'll make such effort but eventually, you'll stop and forget about it. I don't even know if I can trust anything that's coming out of your mouth right now." I said and walked away from her, "It hurts me to think that we can't share this part of our lives together with those who are important to us. Am I not important to you? Do you not trust me? Or is it just too scary to go against the norm? I can't keep pretending not to be in love with you when we're around others. I want to hold your hand, introduce you to my friends and family, and just be able to love you openly without any fear or shame." I added. "I don't understand." Wanda said. I chuckled, "I know you don't."

"Do you want to end this? Us?" She asked with fears in her eyes.

I stayed quiet for few seconds thinking what I really want before looking back at her meeting her eyes, "Yes." I husked out causing more tears to fall out of her eyes.

"I'm just so tired, Wanda. I'm tired of the stress and the pressure that surrounds us every day. I'm tired of asking 'how long?' I'm tired of feeling like there's never enough time to do everything we want to do. I'm tired of constantly feeling like we're not doing enough, or that we're falling short somehow. Most of all, I'm tired of feeling disconnected from you. It feels like you've been so busy, so caught up in your own life, that you don't take the time to connect with me. I miss those intimate moments where we could just talk about anything and everything, and I feel like we don't have those as often as we should. It has to be done and I don't want to place blame on anyone— not myself, not you, not anyone else." I walked towards her and wiped her tears before pressing our foreheads together, "I'm sorry, I never thought that this day will come. I'm sorry I got tired and couldn't wait anymore. I love you but I can't be with you anymore. My heart won't start anymore." I finished before lingering a long kiss on her head.

"I love you, Y/N. I'm sorry for not showing it enough. I'm sorry I failed us." She sniffles before looking at me and caressed my cheeks, "I love you… in every universe."

I finally understood that true love isn't always about being together; Sometimes, it's about letting go. Because love alone, wasn't enough.

Both ends of rope were held, but they were held by me, and only me.

I love her too much and that's my biggest mistake I'll never regret, and if I'd ever meet her again in another lifetime, I'll beg the god to let me have you this time.

151 notes · View notes

severeturttism · 12 days ago

Text

[SFW] rottmnt! leonardo | hurt w/ comfort - post rise movie.

'you save everyone, but who saves you?'

Leo knew something was off with you and his brothers. It was easy to spot the collective whisper-y gatherings he wasn't invited to, or the way everyone seemed to hover a little closer than normal.

He didn't know how to feel about it all.

Your behaviours, above all else, had him the most worried - ever since the Kraang invasion, and subsequent stopping of said Kraang invasion, you always had this far away look in your eyes that he couldn't quite place.

The red-eared slider turtle had, in fact, pestered his twin about the matter; insisting you needed a check up. Donnie had refused, adamantly and confidently, every time he was asked - stating there was nothing wrong with you. So the soft-shell must've known what was actually going on behind your glazed eyes.

He had noticed that Mikey seemed particular about your meals; making sure you always had your favourite dish, and, without fail, giving you a friendly pat on the head. So the box-turtle must've known what was going on behind your less-than-enthusiastic demeanour.

And then there was Raph who, despite his insistence on never sharing any of his cuddly stuffed toys with anyone, had given you several (several of which Leo knows he would've been chased around the lair for, had he stolen them). So the snapper must've known what was going on behind those occasional tremors your hands would have.

He was curious - but you were his partner, and until you were ready to tell him what was plaguing your mind... it was none of his business.

| ONE WEEK LATER | The turtles had been cleared for missions and, to no ones surprise, they had come back in pretty bad shape - it had been nearly three months since the Kraang invasion, and since their last fight, so it was bound to occur. That was what Leo convinced himself.

Until he saw you. Maybe it was then he realised the weight of his actions, now and three months ago.

The way your hands shook involuntarily as you looked him over, your brow furrowed with such contained anger, yet tears welled in your eyes in a way he hadn't seen since Mikey had pulled him through that portal. Guilt welled in his stomach as his hand grasped yours, and watched as you broke in front of him.

That was an hour ago, and now, he laid with you in his bed after promising his brothers that he had it handled - protectively curled around you, with your forehead rested against his plastron, listening intently to your soft sniffles, whispering affirmations in your ear the more you calmed and rubbing soothing circles into your back.

"I'm," he paused rubbing circles at the sound of your hoarse voice "sorry... It was just," you took a deep, shuddering breath "a lot to see - after everything that happened."

Leo hummed softly, understanding - and pressed a soft peck to the crown of your head "I know," he affirmed "I'm sorry." He stopped for a moment, letting out a gentle sigh "I'm not dismissing how it feels for you... but you know this will happen again, right? We've got people to save." Leo reasoned, almost not convinced himself.

He felt your breath hitch through the tenseness of your body "You can save everyone, but... but who saves you?" You let out a warbled sob, and Leo felt his entire world crash around him - sitting up suddenly and bringing you with him, cupping your cheeks in his hands as he tried to soothe the tears away.

"Mi amor," he began, his own eyes beginning to sting "you'll save me," he pressed his forehead to yours; eyes never leaving your own "my brothers will save me," he continued "I have my family."

Leo brought you in close to his plastron again, tightly - he was here. "I love you, I'm sorry," he felt himself croak out, burying his face into your shoulder "I'm sorry."

"I love you too," you whimpered out - basking in his touch "I'll save you." You repeated like a mantra, seemingly to convince yourself more than him.

"You'll save me." Leo reassured.

Physical wounds healed easily enough, but the emotional scars would last a lifetime - somehow, though, Leo thinks things will be alright.

#💙 nardo #tmnt leonardo #rottmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #rottmnt leo #leo x reader #leo #rise leo #tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

74 notes · View notes

ofstarsandvibranium · 1 year ago

Text

My You-niverse: Marc Spector & Steven Grant

Fandom: Oscar Isaac

Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: You and America get stuck portal jumping until you reach your universe again. In the meantime, you meet various versions of your husband.

A/N: the last chapter is finally here! thanks to all of you who enjoyed this series!

Series Masterlist

When you wake up, you're at the Sanctum. You know from how the room is decorated. Your body feels heavy, like it's made of lead. You wiggle your fingers and toes, trying to bring some circulation back. With a groan, you're slowly pushing yourself up into a sitting position.

You look to your left and see Marc resting his head on the bed. You're sure his neck and back are probably hurting from the position. His snores make you smile and you decide not to wake him.

Slowly and cautiously, you drag yourself out of bed. You stagger a bit, nearly falling to your knees, but you catch yourself on the bed.

The movement of the mattress wakes Marc up. His head shooting up and his eyes rapidly blinking. When he looks at the empty bed and then you standing beside it, he's on his feet.

"Shit, baby, what're you doin' outta bed?" he rushes around the bed to your side, holding you up at the waist.

You shake your head, "Marc, I'm fine. I-I need to use the bathroom."

"Could've woken me," he mumbles in disapproval as he guides you to the attached bathroom.

"Didn't wanna wake you. Seemed like you needed the sleep. Speaking of, how long have I been out."

"About a week."

"What?!" You look at him in shock.

"Strange says all of the multiverse hopping took a toll on you mentally and physically. We've been keeping an eye out on you. Strange has been a lot of help."

"And America? How is she?"

"She's been visiting you every day after her lessons with Wong. Other than that, she's still doing her thing."

You nod in approval, "Good. I'm glad she's moving on."

Marc proceeds to stay in the bathroom with you as you do your business. He keeps a careful eye on you, leaning against the sink, arms crossed over his chest, with a stern look on his face.

When you finish up and begin washing your hands, arms wrap around your waste and Steven's voice fills your ears, "How are you doing, lovey?"

You softly smile at him through the mirror's reflection, "I'm good." you dry your hands and turn to him, "How are you?"

"I've been worried sick for the entire week, but I'm glad to see you're okay," he cups your face and places a gentle kiss to your lips, "Do you remember anything?"

Blue. Laurent. Nathan. Bud. Santi. Richard. Leto. Poe.

You nod, "Yeah. I remember everything. I remember them all."

"Is that a good thing?" Steven asks, pure curiosity on his face.

"I-I'm not sure. I-I feel kind of...sad? I feel like I've lost someone and I have this sense of yearning but...but they're not mine to yearn for."

Steven looks at you in a way that you know he understands what you mean and yet he's not mad at you, "It's okay, Y/N. You're here. And those versions of us, they have you too. We're all okay, lovey. We'll all be okay." he pulls you into a hug, a hand cradling your head as it rests against him.

You let out a deep breath of relief as you let yourself melt into Steven's warmth.

_________________________________

"Y/N!" America cries out as she throws herself at you and you catch her in your arms, "I'm so glad you're awake!"

You chuckle at the young teen, "Hey, America. How are you?"

"I've been good. Definitely getting better at honing in on my powers! Wanna see?"

Marc steps in, "I think it's too soon for that, kid."

"Right. Got it. Sorry." she looks at you guiltily and deflates a bit.

"Next time. I'll be at full strength and fully ready to take on the multiverse this time." you nudge her and give her a smirk, letting her know that you two were okay.

It's been two days since you've woken up. Each day, a bit of your strength comes back. Eventually, you'll be good as new. Marc and Steven has been great at helping you get back to it. You see the love and devotion in their eyes, and you're forever grateful that, whether it's in this universe or the next, you'll always be loved by some version of them.

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #marvel #marvel au #lani writes

433 notes · View notes

xoxoamyas · 11 months ago

Text

Alone Without You (But I'm Still Here)

rating : hurt/comfort, petnames used on reader [ love + sunshine ]

wilbur x gn!reader [ use of you/yours, no use of y/n ]

☆ wilbur finally comes home from touring after you have had a long few months day. <3

masterlist [ ☆ ]

note : n/a [ enjoy ! ]

⋆˙⟡

It had been a long day, and you were ready to curl up into your bed. Getting home was hard enough for you because you had to go through the motions you went through every day.

You didn't bother with flicking the lights switch to the living room, just walking about almost automatically till you reached your horribly empty bedroom. Fighting back tears as you flicked only that switch up, standing in the threshold to your bedroom, staring at the messy and unmade bed.

Usually, you'd have someone to share it with, someone to kiss away the bad and ugly terrors of the harsh day. But your love had been gone for nearly two full months now, having been on tour with his band.

You were proud of him, him being Wilbur. You texted him good morning, and I love you. As consistently as possible, anyway. You usually got a response, whether it was right away or delayed. Today had been a no response day, a day he was meant to go out on stage.

You don't know how long you stood there for, but eventually, you managed to move your heavy feet towards Wilbur's dresser. Pulling the top drawer out and picking one of Wilbur's sweaters you had seen him wear before, pushing the drawer closed after and trying not to stumble over to your bed as you tried to take your clothes from the day off. Now sporting the sweater and, eventually, some soft shorts to rest in.

You almost forgot about the light, trying not to cry over how overwhelmed you already were from the events of the day. You didn't want to walk all the way back over to the light switch, the idea of it all making you feel worse than you initially did.

After a long internal debate and disagreement, you found it better to turn the light off, seeing as that would make resting much easier. You were quick to find yourself in the bed on Wilbur's side right after, curling up around one of the two pillows Wilbur usually used to sleep with.

Just a couple more weeks, you tell yourself.

It's difficult, though, especially with how lonely it's gotten. You haven't been the same since he started touring. You tried hard to stay in contact with at least your own friends, and you tried talking to them about stuff you would usually discuss with Wilbur. Yet it all felt wrong. It felt out of place.

Wilbur was your best friend as much as he was your lover. He meant the world to you, and you wanted to stay by his side throughout it all. But you loved him to an unsurprising fault. You wanted him happy, and if that happiness for him was singing his heart out on stage for fans rather than being in bed with you after a long day? Then you supported it.

Sometimes, like right now, as tears silently trail down your face and against the pillows you used, you wonder what would've happened if you told him honestly how you felt about the touring. It was breaking you, tearing you apart at the heart.

You fall asleep, swarmed with the negative thoughts and the feeling of longing for a lover that's not where he could've been. You're asleep long before the front door opens.

Wilbur had been at the airport, seeing the notification for an "I love you" from his favourite person, yet he's distracted before he gets the chance to respond. The gates to his flight had been announced, meaning he had to rush and get to his plane with the rest of his band and crew.

It's long, longer than Wilbur would have liked, but they eventually had finished the process of everything. Boarding the plane and sitting for what felt like forever before it finally touched ground once more.

Tiredly, each individual took their respective rides to their own homes. It was nearly four in the morning by now, and Wilbur was definitely struggling with jet lag, yet that didn't deter his own growing excitement.

He was headed home to his beloved, happy to finally get to hold you in his arms once more. Wilbur was silly, yes, but he knew you'd be long asleep. That's why he remains silent when he finally makes it home, not daring to utter a single word as he clicks the front door shut behind him. Taking a deep breath of the welcoming air before letting out a sigh of relief and thanks.

Wilbur takes his time, knowing that he's likely to stay up until later into the evening. His first stop after abandoning his shoes by the front door is your shared room. He hadn't bothered to knock, not wanting to awaken your slumber as he slipped into the room. His heart melted as his gaze landed on you in the dark room, able to tell that your form rested in his usual spot, clutching a pillow in your grasp.

Momentarily, he had to stop and remind himself it was a pillow. He would not be jealous of a pillow.

Wilbur steps closer after a moment of basking in the atmosphere. He has to strain his eyes, but he can tell from anywhere that you had gone to sleep upset. Gently, he presses his hand to your cheek and can feel the old tears dried on your face. His heart breaks for you as he momentarily notices that you're wearing his sweater.

For the time being, he carefully removes the pillow from your hold. Not bothering to change out of his own clothes, the idea on the back of his mind more than anything. His arms effortlessly slotted around your waist after sliding you both closer towards your side of the bed.

“I'm home,” He hummed out softly, knowing you weren't conscious to hear him but that at least your subconscious and body would pick up on his presence. He hoped he could ease you more than you already were, if you even were.

When you wake up, it's not an alarm that wakes you. Something you had forgotten to set in the midst of getting caught up with your feelings the night before. You wake up to a foreign yet familiar warmth surrounding you, an arm around your waist and a hand combing through your hair gingerly.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize Wilbur was in your bed holding you. However, it does take a minute to realize that your tears have started up again.

“You're alright, love, I'm right here.” Wilbur gently hushes you as he moves his hand in your hair to gently cup the back of your head. Successfully, he pulls you closer so that you're comfortably pressed against him, head against his chest as his chin rests atop your head.

“I thought you weren't coming home anytime soon?” You manage to mutter, the words muffled. It takes a minute for Wilbur to process the words in full, but he softly sighs when he realizes what you've said.

“I know, sunshine, and I'm so sorry. But I'm home now, I'm safe, you're safe.” His reassurances help you even just slightly.

You can't bring yourself to say anything, none of the words you want to say are going beyond your thoughts. The thoughts that circle you like vultures waiting for their snack.

You just sigh, letting your body relax as your arms move to hug and curl around his back. Holding him just as close and tight without hesitation. You've been without him for too long, and you think the hold is enough to start with for the moment.

Though Wilbur can tell there's more that needs to be said, he leaves it be. He knows you'll talk to him when you're ready.

For now, he's holding you as close and tight as he possibly can. Pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head as he lets himself properly relax with you.

#amyas writes #x reader #angst #fluff #wilbur soot #wilbur fluff #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you

269 notes · View notes

fir3ylolol · 1 year ago

Note

Hello :) I saw your requests are open and wanted to request MK1 Raiden/reader where she works at Madam Bo's and he frequents Madam Bo's just to see her. And then he finally works the courage to ask her out? Turns out she's also been eyeing him everytime he visits. They share a first kiss on the date too. Can get smutty if you want I just love Raiden and your writing hahaha thanks 💕 I may be back to request again 🫣

lightning in a bottle

pairing: Raiden x Reader

summary: you've been working at madam bo's for a while and noticed one young man who comes in a lot. it doesn't hurt that he's cute and nice. that is, until he starts acting a little weird one day

tw: mentions of drinking, surprise date, first kiss

a/n: my first non-johnny fic! this was requested (obviously lol) and it was so much fun to write! also, expect a second chapter, i'm not done with raiden just yet ;)

word count: 1.53 k

pt. 2

Ao3

This was the 10th-no-11th time he had come in this week, and you were starting to worry about him. Sure, he was cute and always tipped well, even complimenting Madam Bo directly every time. But eating here multiple times a day wasn’t going to be good for his body. Or his wallet. Yet, you said nothing like that to him and his friend. You had a system at this point. He would walk in and flash a smile, bowing slightly to you as you bow back. You would show him and his friend to their usual tables, not even bothering with menus at this point. You put in the order for their usuals and get back to your cleaning duties, sneaking looks back at him. You can’t help yourself, it’s hard to get sweet, handsome customers who aren’t drunk off their asses.

That seemed like the same thing was happening again, the bows and warm smiles shared between you too. But he was alone this time, no friend following shortly behind. As you start walking to the table, you hear a cough from behind you and you turn to realize he’s not with you. For the first time in a while, you hear him say something other than “The usual,” “Yes, please,” “Thank you,” and “The food was incredible, Madam Bo.”

“I’d actually like to sit over there if that’s okay,” he points to a small table on the other side of the restaurant. “Yeah, of course!” You smile and pick up a menu, not wanting to assume again and lead him over to the sun-baked corner. He sits as you set the menu down, smiling with an expectancy of an order. But he just smiles, grabs the menu, and says, “Some tea, please,” before browsing his options.

You walk away, half-stunned, and find Madam Bo. She looks up at you, ready to hear the usual. But as you walk in, a confused look on your face, she grabs a glass of water and forces you to sit. “What’s wrong? Another drunk idiot mean to you?” She pats your back slightly as you look up at her. “He didn’t want the usual. He just wants some tea.”

“What??” She looks just as stunned as you but suddenly bursts out laughing. “Oh, I know what’s going on. Good for him, hm?” She forces you back on your feet, shoving a warm teapot and glass in your hand. “Go on, he’s getting thirsty without you.” You shake off how weird she was, even weirder than usual, and walk back to his table. As you pour the tea for him, you ask with as much confidence as you can muster, “Do you know what you’d like to eat?”

He clears his throat and looks behind you quickly. You turn after him, noticing Madam Bo leaning around the corner with a wink, disappearing a second later. Turning back, he stood up and pulled a chair out. “Could you sit, please?” Normally, you wouldn’t. He’s a customer. But he’s so kind, and he said it with such confidence, that you sit down across from him. He plants himself back down with a large grin. “Thank you. I know you’ve served me quite a bit, which I appreciate. And I know your name because…” He gestures vaguely to where a nametag would be on his chest before continuing, “But I don’t think you know mine. I’m Raiden. I’ve been coming by a lot lately, and I figured I wasn’t getting younger. Also, Madam Bo told me to. But, I think you’re really cool, and attractive, and I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me.” He paused to take a deep breath. “Now, if that's alright with you.”

“H-huh?” You take a long minute to process what he’s saying. “Madam…Bo?” You turn around again and see her waving at you, with a wide, conniving smile. You turn back to him, his smile starting to falter slightly. But honestly, you did need a break and you had noticed how cute he was for a while. When else would you get this chance? “Well…yeah, I’d love to.” You smile at him, which gives him another surge of confidence. “Great! Do you care what we order, or?” You shrug, untying your apron from your waist, “I’m not picky, I’ve tried everything twice.” He nods to Madam Bo behind you, hearing her shuffle away quickly. “Really? Are you a big fan of Madam Bo’s cooking?”

“I guess you could say that,” you smile at him, he’s even nicer than you thought. “So what spurred this on? I’m assuming that it wasn’t all her doing,” you say with a general nod in Madam Bo’s direction. “Oh, no! I’ve been by a lot lately, and it’s mostly because of you. Not to sound creepy, but you’re quite attractive and nice and…well, I just think you’re cool.” His nervous smile widens, pouring a cup of tea for both of you. “Why, thank you. You’re pretty cool too. But I was wondering where your friend was.” He laughs slightly, “Oh, Kung Lao? He was busy with training today.”

“Training?” You tilt your head slightly, taking a sip of tea. “Yeah, Kung Lao and I are training under Madam Bo in various fighting styles. You know, Shaolin Fist, Nan Chuan, Jujustu.” “I only know one of those,” you laugh out slightly. “But you do a lot according to Madam Bo. Is she your grandma or something?” He coughs slightly, choking on the sip of tea that is in his mouth. “Oh, no no no. She’s just a good teacher.” “That I am!” Madam Bo appears out of nowhere, holding a large tray of food and placing it down. “You better eat up! I made this just for you two.” And she’s gone as quickly as she got there. Raiden looks at you and gestures at the food as if he’s asking you to eat first. And who are you to deny such a tempting request?

You both end up eating slowly since you can’t stop talking. He’s very humble and funny and genuinely likes hearing about you and your life. You learn more about him as well, that he’s a farmer and that he’s the Champion of Earthrealm. That sort of confused you at first, but he started telling the most incredible stories about another realm of fantastical beings and beautiful scenery, the backdrop for a massive showdown. You found yourself captivated by him, his words, and his charisma. Much too soon, the food is done, and you can feel Madam Bo shooting daggers into the back of your head. “You know, my shift is well past over. I should probably head home,” you say while standing up, grabbing your apron, and bowing slightly to him. He scrambles up after you, following as you walk towards the door, “Well then, allow me to escort you.” You giggle at his eagerness but nod slightly. “Alright, just follow me.” You wave to Madam Bo as you leave, her smile even wider. As you walk out the door, you hear her call out, “I knew you would be cute together! Lots of cute babies!” You hear Raiden cough next to you at how blunt she is, but you can’t help but laugh at her words. “What a typical elder! Only focused on what we can bring her, which is more kids to dote on.” He laughs along, glad you see the humor in it, “She just can’t help it, can she?”

You both walk down the dark street, shoulders bumping against each other and laughing quietly in the dark of night. You finally reach your house and lean against the door frame, looking at him sweetly. “You know, I had a good time today. I’m glad you asked me out. I’d love to do it again.” He lets out a sigh, a content smile on his face, “Oh, I’m glad. I don’t mean to sound weird, but I’ve noticed you for a while, and…I wanted to shoot my shot.” You reach your hand out, lightly tracing down his arm until you reach his hand, “You’re not the only one, you know. I’m always happier when you come in.” He twists your hand slightly, finally interlacing your fingers lightly and pulling you closer slightly. There you are, mere inches away from him under the moon, heart racing faster. His breathing is heavy, intense eyes looking into yours, and you finally close the gap. Leaning closer, you meet his lips with yours, light and gentle, which he gladly accepts. His free hand cups your face, pulling you closer. You’re lost in the moment, your hand against his chest, as your senses are full of him. You only feel his touch, smell the dust from the fields, hear your heartbeats synced up, taste his lips on yours. And then, when you pull away for air, all you can see is his gentle face, eyes lit up in joy. “We should do this again, yeah?” You whisper, still slightly out of breath. “Yeah, we should,” he whispers back, resting his forehead against yours with a smile.

#raiden #raiden x reader #mk x reader #mk1 #raiden mk1 #fluff

201 notes · View notes

thewalkingwillowtree · 1 year ago

Text

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love.

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

Warning! Cliffhanger Ahead

Part 15 - Mated Bliss

In the week that Xilä and Neteyam moved into their new home together, their lives had quickly settled into a comfortable routine.

Xi would easily say she'd been enjoying every moment of domestic bliss with her husband.

With every kiss and touch, every sweet moment they shared, even their bickering disputes- he was the best mate she could ever hope for.

Sometimes, when she sat back and really thought about it all, she felt giddy, finding it difficult to contain her happiness.

Eywa, was she blessed.

Neteyam groaned. Wiping sleep from his face, he blinked awake. Sitting up with a start when he realized the hour, he cursed, "Shit."

He was late.

Due to meet Tasam at the border before first light that morning, he mentally berated himself for staying up so late. It was his own greedy self to blame really and the culprit over said greed laid right beside him with her tail entwined with his.

Yet still with an uncontrollable smile, he scooted forward to lean over and stare down at his sleeping mate. She had evidently rolled away from him at some point.

"Xi, sweetheart. I'm late. I have to get ready to leave now," he whispered, kissing her exposed shoulder blade.

He leaned up on an arm, peeling away the blanket that covered her bare form, before combing back the loose, soft strands of hair to see her sleeping face.

Her hair smelled intoxicating. She had washed it last night with whatever new made up concoction D'avi had gifted her, and while Xi's intention was to re-braid it, Neteyam had gotten to her first, distracting her from the task.

"Baby, I'm going, okay?" he whispered, having every intention of getting up to leave, even though he further curled himself around her whilst nosing at her ear and down her cheek.

Xilä sighed softly, stretching as she slowly woke. A face nuzzled into her neck from behind as she yawned, while a large palm smoothed up the curve of her hip, dipping into her waist before spanning her ribs. Its journey ended when it began to fondle her left breast.

"'Teyam?" she mumbled groggily, squirming backwards, gravitating to the heat of his body.

He hummed against her skin, peppering tender kisses wherever he could reach. "Don't forget my mother will be coming by this morning," he reminded softly. "She's excited to finally spend a whole day with you."

That had her much more awake now, because she had actually forgotten. Xi rubbed her eyes and asked in a hoarse scratchy voice, "Did you ask Kiri if she would come too?"

"Hm?" He was very much distracted by now. His hand had wandered down the length of her body to inspect the mess between her legs.

Testing to see if she was still drenched from last night's events, he was quite glad to feel there hadn't been much leakage.

"Kiri," she emphasized, breaking him from a naughty fantasy. "When you saw her yesterday, did you remember to ask her to be my buffer for- ooh Ow!" she gasped, hissing with a pained wince when two thick digits suddenly entered her.

Neteyam froze. "What? It hurts?" he asked, easing his fingers out to peer over her in worry.

"Yeah, a bit. I'm sore but it's fine," she assured him quietly as her tail wound tighter around his in comfort. He always got worked up if he ever crossed a line with her in bed, she realized. "Just go gentle."

"No, if you're-" he cut off when she shot him a look. Hesitating, he asked, "Are you sure?"

At her reassuring smile and nod, he relaxed again and continued, moving far more gently than before. He twirled slow circles around her clit with the pads of his fingers, then carefully dipped a finger in knuckle deep.

"Teyam, did you find out?" she asked again, squirming from the sensation between her legs.

Extremely sensitive, puffy and still filled with his seed, her breath hitched when he began to sink in and out of her entrance, testing her readiness this time.

Neteyam snickered. "Yes, babe. I did ask, but Kiri said you don't need her, and that you'll be fine- which by the way I agree with. But don't worry Tuk overheard and invited herself. So you'll have company after all- something about a girls day..." he mumbled.

She let out a breathless, "Oh okay," as the single digit stretching her continued its pace- fingering her until she was ready to accept another one.

Two fingers working her now, every pump caused the insides of her thighs to become painted in the come she'd been stuffed with.

She sighed, giving in to the pleasure. It felt good. So fucking good. Her head collided with his shoulder when she arched backwards and he hummed his approval since the shift seemed to give him more skin to attack with his lips.

Xi rocked against his fingers greedily. She was a squelching mess- his seed mixed with her own arousal. An exasperated whine escaped her when he abruptly stopped, slipping his hand away.

Neteyam gripped under her knee, hooking it over his own to spread her wide. Sticky coated fingers trailing over her skin, smearing his come wherever he touched.

"Look at me," he ordered as his thick digits sank into her again, fucking her at a leisured pace. Filling her up yet giving her nothing at the same time.

"No teasing today," she whined, rolling her hips pathetically, chasing after more.

"Then look at me and I won't tease."

The moment she locked eyes with him, he withdrew his hand from between her thighs again, making her curse in protest. His gaze bore into hers when he pressed those two fingers against her lips, prompting her to open. She held his wrist still as she sucked them clean, humming at the taste of them both, eyes glinting seductively.

Neteyam's pupils dilated and he groaned at the sight. He was fighting the powerful need to devour her- to fuck her ruthlessly as she sobbed and begged him to make her come.

"Tsaheylu, sweetheart," he said huskily, dragging her hips downward so she was closer to his throbbing dick. Tauntingly, he rubbed his tip against her clit.

Xi felt drunk off of his affections. She wanted to scream in frustration. Her being overly sensitive from last night, made his usual teasing exceedingly torturous.

Quickly grappling her queue from behind, she swung it over her shoulder, panting in anticipation as Neteyam did the same.

"Good girl," he praised, sagging against her the instant the bond was made.

He ducked his head with a commanding, "Kiss me," and claimed her mouth as he lined himself up, sinking deep between her folds.

Moving slowly, he stretched her, inch by inch until he was fully sheathed. He pressed down gently on the bulge of her stomach where he sat, amazed every time he felt and saw the outline of himself there. He savored the snug fit inside of her, warm and wet and squeezing him just right.

Xi moaned against his lips, releasing an unhappy whine when made no effort to move.

Breaking the kiss, he grinned wickedly at the scowl she shot him. He loved how needy and desperate she would get for him. The sight of her flushed cheeks and pouty lips- and her eyes...fucking hell, he was done for.

Unable to stay still a moment longer, he rolled his hips, taking hold of hers, controlling her to his liking.

Their lovemaking was slow and sweet that morning. A far cry from the wild, sweaty night they'd shared a mere few hours ago.

Neteyam's movements were lazy, almost as if he had all the time in the world to fuck her. He sensually licked and sucked at her neck, practically feasting on her skin. His tail had abandoned hers- it was now wrapped around the thigh hooked over his, keeping her spread wide.

A nagging part in Xi's mind knew she should care that he would be late for his duties but she couldn't find it within herself. The pleasure was too much, too good, too addicting.

"Faster," she pleaded, hands fisting in their sheets with a wanton whine. "Faster, plea-"

"No. Just like this," he said, denying her request. "Sorry baby, you're sore, remember?" he teased, slowing his pace even further. "You said to be gentle. I'm being gentle."

She wanted to cry, his rhythm was tormenting. About to curse at him for using her own words against her, he suddenly pinched hard on her nipple and a moan escaped her- mingled with pain and pleasure, it echoed around their tent.

Neteyam sank deep into her, ever slowly dragging back so that just the tip of him sat against her slit before delving back in at the same speed, over and over and over, hitting all the right places inside of her.

Body quivering from the pleasure, Xi mewled. She felt like she was going insane, it was too much, too intense.

The build up was torturously good, but yet it wasn't enough. She wanted more- she wanted to come- she needed it.

"I can't- Teyam, please, please, p-"

"You close, sweetheart?" he asked, nipping her pointed ear. His breath was labored, and it was taking everything within in him not to flip his mate onto her stomach and fuck her hard.

The position was also killing his back since he had to practically contort himself around her because of how small she was.

"Mmhmm. So-so close, but I need-" she broke off into a sob.

"What do you need, baby?" he asked in faux concern, tightening his hold on her when she began to squirm.

"More- ugh. Teyam, make me come- Oh Eywa!" she cried when he changed his angle.

She turned to peer up at him, tears welled in her eyes as she bit hard on her bottom lip. "Please," she begged, reaching downward to touch herself. But before she could, he snagged her wrist away, shooting her disapproving look.

Xilä clutched a nearby pillow. Stuffing it into her face, she released a muffled, ragged scream. She was on the cusp, she could feel the rupture right there. All she needed was just a little more.

Finally taking pity on his poor mate, and on the verge of bursting himself, Neteyam gave in.

The hand that had been playing with her breasts- pinching and rolling her nipples, sailed downward to work her clit.

Xi panted and babbled incomprehensibly as he began to rub tight circles on her swollen nub. Her body was tense and shaking, feverishly awaiting the impending crash of her orgasm.

Her hand shot towards his moving wrist, squeezing desperately as her walls clenched around him, causing him to growl against her cheek.

Neteyam came first with a guttural groan, which pushed her right over the edge as she too came with a silent cry- body tense as she snapped. Almost on the verge of pain when she exploded, her thighs trembled- everything trembled as heat licked her inside out.

He continued to lazily thrust into her, pushing his seed as far in as possible, until he couldn't physically continue, limbs gone limp in protest.

They were both panting and spent as they laid still for a couple minutes, gathering their energy, basking in the aftermath.

Neteyam felt like sludge, he felt as if she'd taken everything from him, leaving him weak and boneless. Meanwhile Xi couldn't move a muscle as she recovered from her brain numbing high. She closed her eyes, fatigue fighting her.

It wasn't until Neteyam began to move her, did she rouse from a light doze.

"You're late," she chastised with a blissful smile as she settled more comfortably into the cocoon of his arms, feeling coming back to her numb toes and legs.

He made an offended sound. "Well good morning to you too," he laughed, gently easing his dick out of her. "I just gave you an orgasm. And a good fucking one at that. Are you really complaining?" he teased as he set her thigh down and rolled her onto her stomach to brandish a playful smack to her ass.

She squealed, gasping when he leaned over and bit the flesh he'd just smacked. Huffing at his antics, she complied when he manhandled her into his arms again- front facing him this time.

"How do you feel? Are you okay?" he asked, brushing her bed hair from her face. "You were quiet," he murmured with a frown, eyes tracing her features as if they would tell him what was wrong.

"You mean I wasn't screeching at the top of my lungs like a mountain banshee as usual?" she smiled, voice still soft. "I'm fine, promise. My throat's still a bit sore after last night," she admitted with a blush. "It hurts whenever I talk- but hey, it's nothing a bit of brewed char'mill leaf can't help," she quickly assured when she saw his horrified expression.

He grew panicked at her meaning. Spluttering, he said, "What? Oh shit, Xi. I'm sorry. I- fuck, I should've been more caref-"

Tugging him down by his nape, she shushed him, silencing him with a kiss. Lips and tongue forcing his squawk of protest away, halting his distress.

"Handsome, it's going to be light soon. You should get going," she suggested when they broke apart, trying to distract him from the topic.

"Xilä," he said seriously, cupping the back of her neck, trailing a thumb down her throat. He had fucked her mouth last night not realizing how rough he'd been. Guilt tore at him.

"Stop fretting," she chastised. "I'm already nervous about spending an entire day alone with your mother. You're not helping with that guilty expression of yours right now. It's too early and I'm too tired to make you stop worrying. I told you I'm fine, okay?" she said, forcing a funny looking smile on his face by pushing up the corners of his mouth with her thumbs.

"Fine- but say something next time. Please," he stated firmly, unmoving from the discussion.

'He was so bossy sometimes,' she thought, holding in a snicker. For his sake, she nodded in agreement anyway.

It would be too difficult to try to explain how she'd very much enjoyed what they had done last night, and that she was simply feeling the after effects.

Disconnecting their queues, he untangled himself from her, and leaped out of their hammock. He hurriedly cleansed his body, chewing on fresh van'eela bark as he washed only the necessary parts of himself for now, before throwing on his warrior garb.

Xi eventually got up too, wrapping a woven blanket around her bare waist as she headed to their kitchenette.

She cleaned her hands first before putting her Qla'ira root tea on the fire. While it boiled she then began to leaf wrap a few thick slices of HoneyCornbread and some tender leftover seared fish.

Grabbing an empty water pouch, she met him at the tent's threshold where he was securing his knives to his chest and hip.

"Have I told you the guys are jealous of all the meals you pack me?" he asked, accepting his breakfast with a smile and a sweet kiss, bending to tuck it and his water pouch into his riding satchel. "All of a sudden the unmated ones want a wife now," he chuckled.

She laughed. "Should I start packing extra then?"

"No. You only get to spoil me," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at her. "I've got a meeting later today, so we'll try for the hunt to not take too long."

"Be safe," she said, hugging him around the waist as he hooked up his comm device to his neck and ear. "Who's your hunting partner? Tasam again?"

He nodded, adjusting his visor, taming down a few askew braids.

Since the increase in palulukan attacks, there was a temporary ban on all solo activities outside of the perimeter of Home Camp- including solo hunts. Xi was relieved to hear Tasam would be accompanying her mate. He was sure to have Neteyam's back, out past the borders.

"You smell like me," he voiced, bending to nuzzle and lick at her neck. "Am I dripping down your thighs yet?" he asked, reaching through the flap of the blanket to drag his palm up her slick coated skin.

"Neteyam!" she laughed, mildly scandalized, stopping his hand before he made contact with her core. "Go already you skxawng. You are making me blush."

"You are pretty when you blush and I like when you smell like me. People know you are mine," he said, swiping a thumb along her swollen bottom lip.

Her blush deepened down to the tips of her flushed, exposed chest. "And you say you aren't barbaric," she teased.

He shrugged as he stepped away, swinging his bag on his back- the strap crossing his chest, bow in hand. "I am but a man who loves his woman, is all."

Xi internally swooned. "You should go now before I seduce you to stay. You keep saying things that make me feel needy, husband."

Neteyam laughed. A bubbling sound disrupted his response however.

His smile dropped and he pulled a face at his offending enemy when he glanced over her shoulder and saw the little pot on the fire, boiling. He could smell the fragrant scent of Qla'ira root from where he stood.

Clearing his throat and not meeting her eyes he said, "Hey um, if you're still sore, you should go lay down in that position I told you about the other day...you know the one with your hips in the air and the pillow under you? It's supposed to be a really good stretch."

Xilä snorted at her mate's subtlety. Hooking a finger into his belt, she tugged him close again- fronts pressing, bare breasts brushing his upper abs. "Ah the position, riiiight...you mean the one that humans use in order to aid in conceiving little ones?" she asked in faux confusion.

His jaw ticked at being found out, and Xi thought the whole thing was entirely entertaining. It was honestly incredibly cute how hard he tried.

"Nice try handsome," she said sweetly. "Now go, Tasam's probably furious that you've kept him so long."

"Fine," he said sourly, stealing a final kiss with a grumpy muffled, "love you,"before raising the flap to head out.

After breakfast, Xi hummed as she did a quick tidy of their home.

There wasn't really much to do, but the thick pelt lining their hammock was disgusting after numerous rounds of lovemaking, so she stripped it and put on a new one.

When she finished, she got herself ready for the day and took her time to braid her hair, making sure to put back Neteyam's gifted beads.

Her braiding skill had improved by far. For the most part, Tuk and D'avi loved to style her hair for her but Xi had to learn. Salveen had told her Omatikaya females usually braided their mates' hair once bonded. So Xi of course wanted to learn for Neteyam...and maybe too for their future children when the time came.

"Xilä," called an all too familiar gruff voice from outside her tent. "Are you there?"

Xi's humming ceased. She then scrambled to make her way to the entrance. Peaking out, she saw her father standing at the base of the steps leading to the tent. Her shoulders slumped in relief when she noticed he was guarded by three male Na'vi, all armed with guns.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, stepping out onto the landing, peering down at him in uncertainty.

T'shteyo's eyes narrowed at her response before schooling his face into something more uncharacteristically sincere. "It's been a while...I was badly injured. I thought you'd come visit me..."

When she gave no response he asked, "Won't you invite me in?"

Xi observed him, taking in how different he looked from the last time she saw him two months ago. Two months ago. So much had happened in her life since then. She was a wife now- she was no longer tied to him.

Her father looked good however. Well fed and healthy for someone who was rumored to be on his deathbed. The lingering bruises brandishing his body were the only tells he'd been in a fight.

A fleeting flash of guilt pierced her for not caring or even thinking about him during that time but the phantom ache of her wrist was the reminder she needed to not give a shit.

"Xilä?"

Blinking out of her reverie she shook her head. "No. I'm not going to invite you in," she said, hiding the tremor of her hands by folding her arms. "What do you want?"

He sighed, clearly unhappy with her response yet his face remained passive. "I'm being exiled tomorrow...I came to say- I don't know," he frowned, seeming to have trouble putting his words together. "Those two months of solitude gave me much to think about...I should have done some things differently...it could have been better. We could have been happy."

Xi stared, fidgeting ceased. 'Was he trying to apologize? No. He was capable of no such thing,' she reminded herself.

"Say something," he said.

"What would you like me to say?"

He looked taken aback by that.

"Would you like me to hug you goodbye? Wish you safe travels and tell you that I will miss you? I wish I could. I wish it hadn't come to this."

"It doesn't. If you ask them to let me stay-"

"I can't do that," she said with a frown, cutting him off.

"Can't? Or won't?" he spat, showing her a glimpse of his inner monster for a split second. His features quickly morphed back into that ugly polite expression of his that had her unnerved.

Xilä said nothing.

"It's fine," he scoffed. "What's done is done. I'll be going, I guess."

"Father, wait..." she said, and his head flickered back to her, pausing his departure. "I truly do wish you well and...thank you," she said softly, surprising him, "for bringing us here. For taking me with you. I gained a home and happiness...and I pray you find the same thing one day."

T'shteyo's lips curled into a smile. It felt foreign seeing him look so sincere. He nodded at her once in parting before motioning to the guards he was ready to leave. And without another word, without another glance, he left.

Xilä released the breath she'd been holding as she watched him walk away. This would be the last time she ever saw him, she realized. She searched her inner being for some form of sadness, but there was none.

'This is good,' she thought.

Her father being gone meant she could finally move on without that lingering nagging reminder that he was still around.

This would be a fresh start, not only for her but for him too.

By the time Neytiri and Tuk showed up, Xilä had gotten a grip on her emotions.

The duo had arrived with a basket full of goodies and an announcement by an overly excited Tuk, that they'd be spending the day out at a nearby glade.

Although Xi was originally a wreck of nerves at the prospect of spending the day with her mother-in-law, she quickly realized there was no need to. Neytiri was easy going and quite lovely company to be honest.

The day spent together with the Sully females was enjoyable. They picnicked near a waterfall where other roaming clusters of friends and families milled about as well. Their conversation flowed from topic to topic with ease and Xi felt relaxed and carefree as they lounged.

Tuk deserted them at some point, choosing to chase after fluttering woodsprites. She grew bored of those too then trotted off to dip her feet in the pool of rippling water where a few others were also doing the same and Xi and Neytiri watched her with matching smiles as a peaceful silence washed over them.

"Xi," Neytiri, called gently, breaking the quiet between them. Hesitantly, she asked, "Will you tell me about your mother?"

Words eluded Xilä from the sudden question and Neytiri, picking up on her shock, was quick to calm her.

"It is only of course if you want to. I don't mean to pry- well I do actually but- When I asked before...Sal and Neteyam both said it was not their story to tell...I simply wish to know."

Awkwardly shifting under her in-law's gaze and feeling her throat tighten, Xi avoided her stare.

"What would you like to know?" she croaked.

Neytiri laid a palm over her hand in comfort. "Where is she?"

"Gone."

"Gone...gone where? Why? Did- did your father send her away."

Xilä shrugged. "In his own way, maybe he did...He has never been a kind man, but over time he became worse. My mother- I think there was only so much she could take. Sometimes it felt like he was rubbing off on her- she'd always push me hard in my studies...but sometimes was cruel."

Xi took a breath before continuing. "There were plans to escape- months of planning. I never told my father because I thought-"

Staring out unseeingly, Xi swallowed hard. "My mother and a small group stole away one night and I thought- I thought she'd take me with her. I saw when she snuck away. I tried to run after her, but she...she told me to stay."

Neytiri's brows narrowed.

"She told me to remember everything she'd taught me...and then she just...left." Xilä blinked rapidly trying to tame the sting of her eyes. "She didn't even look back...not once."

"She left you," Neytriri said, voice laced in a quiet rage. "She chose to leave without you?"

Xi nodded and that seemed to irk the mother even more.

"Where is she now? Do you know?"

"The Wetlands maybe. Rumors said they went to the Hulanta clan. I don't know for sure."

Neytiri scoffed, glancing away. "She left you," she muttered to herself again, jaw jutting in fury as she pursed her lips. "She left her only child."

Xilä would bet that her mother-in-law was probably mentally cursing her mother. The thing was, she hadn't even told her the whole story- just the gist of it. And the fact that Xi hadn't even told her everything, she felt touched by Neytiri's reaction all the same.

The night she told Sal and Jxo everything about her past, Xi was in shambles after. It was a long emotional night for them all, ending when Jxo left the tent without comment- angry tears and silent outrage rolling off of him in waves.

Meanwhile Sal sobbed hysterically as if all what Xilä had said had physically hurt her- had physically caused her pain.

Neteyam had found out the story in bits and pieces, through scattered conversations during their training days.

From since early on in their friendship he'd had a knack for getting her to open up. And although most times he'd be quiet and brooding after she'd share something new about her past, he never made her feel bad over it.

If anything, he'd constantly remind her of how strong she was, that she was safe, that she was never going back there.

"Over his dead body," was what he'd say.

And Mo'at. Well Mo'at was the first soul she'd ever told. Tsahìk was the first person to hold her while she cried as she spewed the truth. And though Xi had seen a crack in the elder's demeanor, Mo'at was strong- she showed Xi true strength.

"Thank you for telling me...you didn't have to, but I'm glad you did. Being a mother, deep down I needed to know," she confessed, tone soft as squeezed Xilä's hand again, comforting as best she could. "You deserved so much better my child," she said sadly. "Parents who loved you."

Xilä gave her a wobbly smile. "It's in the past now. And I have Sal and Jxo, they are my parents...It- it may sound horrible to say this, but...I would live through it all over again if it meant I'd end up here. I found a home. I found Neteyam," she declared.

Neytiri stared at her through shining eyes. "You know, I prayed Eywa would bless my son with someone strong. Someone with heart. Someone the people would admire and stand by. Someone who would love my 'Teyam down to the core of his being...I thank Eywa for answering my prayers. I thank Eywa for blessing us with you, Xilä."

If it wasn't for the interruption of an oblivious to the moment and overly animated Tuk, Xi knew she'd have burst into happy tears.

Later that night as Xi puttered around their kitchenette, she told her husband about her day. She left out the part about her and Neytiri's little heart to heart however.

"-oh, and the waterfall was amazing! We should go sometime for a date night. What do you think, handsome?"

"Sounds good, baby," her mate mumbled distractedly.

She glanced at him and snorted in amusement.

He was crouched at their workstation, frowning in concentration. Xi had put him to work, asking him to dice the root vegetables she'd layed out for dinner. The poor man was incredibly focused on the task at hand, cursing under his breath when he realized the pieces weren't cubed as she'd asked him to cut.

It wasn't usual for them to have dinner at home. Most evenings they ate with the rest of the clan or with either of their families but Neteyam had asked her to stay in tonight and she didn’t mind one bit.

He was reserved when he got home, she'd noticed but she didn't comment on it. She knew he'd eventually open up when he was ready.

When they'd finished preparing a hearty stew, they made themselves comfortable around the beautiful table Jxo had crafted. The main room felt cozy too since her husband, ever the romantic, had lit little candles all over the space.

Conversation flowed between the two as they ate. Half way through their meal however, he'd had enough distance from her.

"Come here," he said, patting his lap, pulling her into the cradle of his thighs before she could try to move herself. He kissed her ear before offering her a bite of food.

"You know I can feed myself, right?" she laughed, accepting the vegetable anyway.

"Humor me," he smiled, popping a piece of tender meat into her mouth this time before licking the juice off his fingertips.

"So, I have to tell you something," he said, after chewing on a bite of his own.

"Oh?" She turned to see him better, giving her full attention.

"There's a small team flying out to the C'ontiqu mountains tomorrow," he said, mindlessly wiping away a drop of sauce from the corner of her mouth and sucking it off his thumb. "It'll be a two day- three day trip at most, just to clear the area and mark it as a safe zone...I'll be heading the trip though."

"Oh...this is for the whole, war clean up thing, right?"

He nodded, "Yeah, the RDA left their marks all over Pandora. It's a long overdue project but it'd be worth it in the end. Better to be safe than to stumble onto an old landmine ten years from now."

She nodded. "Alright...I miss you already," she said, hugging him round the waist. And it was the truth, she felt a little pang of sadness from his news. It also occurred to her that this would be their first time apart from each other for longer than a few hours.

As if reading her mind, he lifted her chin and bent to kiss her jaw in apology. "I'll be back before you know it, sweetheart. And hey, you've got that practice with Lo'ak and his trainees tomorrow, so you'll be plenty busy and distracted until I get back."

Lo'ak had been promoted a few days ago. Since then he'd promised her a place on his team for whenever she wanted to improve her skills, citing he'd be, "a much better mentor than her skxawng husband."

"That's true," she replied. "And maybe I'll invite my parents over the next day? They haven't been over since we moved in," she pondered, already thinking of inviting D'avi and her family as well.

"See? I bet you won't even notice I'm gone."

"I'll notice," she frowned, snapping her head up to eye him.

Neteyam openly stared. Gaze roaming over her features, he observed her as if trying to memorize every inch of her face.

"What?" she asked, lips quirking upwards in amusement. She poked his cheek, waking him from his thoughts. "What?" she laughed.

"Nothing...I'm just trying to decide whether to fuck you and fill you with my come tonight and cuddle you in the morning, or to cuddle you all night then fuck you and fill you in the morning. It's a kind of a tough decision," he said in faux seriousness.

Her eyes glinted and she bit her lip to stifle her laughter. Her husband was always saying such wild things. Half the time she either blushed so furiously, she was pretty sure she turned purple all over. The other half of the time she couldn't help cracking up at his absurdity.

"Liar," she said, fighting a grin. "Tell me the truth."

His knuckles caressed her cheek. "Fine...I'll miss you, is all," he mumbled. "You're turning me soft, you know that?" he teased in mock fury, shuffling her around so she straddled his thigh, large hands palming over the skin of her waist. "How'd you manage to have me wrapped around your little finger? Don't you know I have a reputation to uphold?"

Xi scoffed. "Everyone already knows you're soft for me though. So I don't know who you're trying to foo- OW! That hurt!" she complained, swatting his hand away to rub at her stinging backside.

He had flipped up her skirt to smack her on the butt because of her sass.

"Want me to kiss it better?" he asked with a wild grin, leaning forward to nip her pouting bottom lip.

"I don't trust you near my ass, honestly," she said, gaining a loud cackle from her mate who tossed his head back with a hoot.

When they finished their meal, they decided to go out for a night stroll. Xilä loved observing the activity of the clan around this time.

Hunters, gathers, fishermen, warriors, healers, all reuniting with their families and settling in.

The smokehouses and food tents were stocked with the day's harvest and prepped for the next day.

Teenagers mingled about until the last second-until they were called home by their yelling parents.

And Xi love to hear the muffled conversations and laughter emitting from homes when they strolled pass.

It was comforting.

It was home.

"Hey, can we take the ikrans out when you get back? Journey is going to miss her boyfriend. Buddy is so much more calm around her," she mused.

He groaned in mild annoyance. "Xi, baby. They aren't boyfriend and girlfriend. Stop listening to Tuk's make believe stories...But yeah, we can do that when I get back."

She grinned triumphantly, plastering herself to his side even more as they continued walking.

"'Teyam," she said, remembering something. "Tell me the joke you didn't want your father to say the other day."

"No."

"Why not?" she grumbled.

He sighed, shooting her a fleeting side eyed stare. "Baby, you'll only be embarrassed, trust me."

"Wait...am I part of the story?" she asked in suspicion.

Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek. He contemplated whether he should say. "You remember that one night I ate you out behind the labs?"

Xi stopped walking, peeling herself away from him. "What about it?" she asked in dread.

Her husband wiped a palm down his face with groan. "I sent you away after, remember?"

She nodded, clearly remembering it was when they'd still been fooling around. Neteyam had dragged her behind a link shack, determined to have his way with her.

"Well I uh-" he cleared his throat, "I stayed behind to take care of um, my-" he gestured to his dick. "I was just sneaking back out from our spot when dad and Gwuyle caught sight of me. It was kind of obvious apparently...And even more so, when you came back."

The moment clicked for Xilä when she realized what happened after.

"Oh Great Mother," she said, hiding her face.

"Yep."

That night, Xi had returned to the side of the labs when she noticed she'd forgotten her undercloth. Jake, his second in command and Neteyam were all further away, talking by the time she'd gotten there.

They'd all shot her varying looks she was too distracted to interpret, and not wanting to interrupt them, she walked ahead and snuck back behind the trailer to search for the abandoned flimsy material that was torn off her.

Unbeknownst to her, Neteyam was the only one to feel the knowing stares from his dad and his second, embarrassment clouding his face as they so clearly put the pieces together, figuring out what he and Xi had been up too.

The worst part- the part he decided to keep to himself, was when Gwuyle smirked and said, "Brother, you've got a bit of something right here," as he pointed to the corner of his own mouth.

Neteyam flushed, hastily wiping away the remnants of Xi's slick, while Jake coked on air and averted eyes before quickly changing the topic.

"I am never looking your father in the eyes again," Xi stated in utter mortification.

He laughed in agreement. "Aww, baby. I'm sorry," he sang in awe of her cuteness. He pulled her into his arms so she could hide from the world as she cursed him.

Grinning into her hair, he received his scolding without complaint. He knew damn well it was all his fault.

Neteyam was wrong.

Xi did notice his absence. She missed him like crazy.

On the first night, she barely slept, not only due to his missing presence but also because she was completely alone. She was half tempted to sneak into the little room she had at her parents' place.

She hated being lonely.

Xi woke extremely early on the second day after a shitty night of sleep. Stretching out her sore muscles, she snuggled into Neteyam's side of the hammock, wishing he were there.

Even though she hadn't chosen Warrior as her path, her husband still pushed her to keep at her training when she could and Lo'ak- the liar, was brutal on her and his group of trainees yesterday.

He made them run through drill after drill with no remorse. So it was no surprise that her body was aching, tired and begging for one of her mate's delicious, full body massages.

It was still quite dark out so Xi mentally planned her day as she relaxed.

She had an early morning class in a few hours with Tsahìk who no longer referred to Xi's lessons as healer training, but Tsahìk training.

And after that, Sal and Jxo were coming by for a late lunch, so she made a quick note to get her laundry out of the way before then.

Xi also had to request some cloth from the tapestry tents since the skirt she wore to training yesterday was badly torn. She would have to sew a new one- or maybe she'd just ask her mother to do it.

Her thoughts were interrupted however when she heard a nearby twig snap. Thinking nothing of it, she closed her eyes, intending to go back to sleep for a few more hours. But then another rustle was heard from just outside her tent- too close for comfort this time.

Ears twitching, she strained to hear if the sound was just her imagining things.

It was far too early for visitors, so Xilä slung herself out of bed and headed out into the main room. She frowned when she saw a shadow grow at the tent's entrance and gasped when her father pushed the flap aside and strode in, completely uninvited.

"Nice to see you again, Xilä," T'shteyo said pleasantly, eyes greedily taking in the interior of her home- walking about as if he owned it.

Shock taking hold, Xilä stared, completely at a loss for words.

He was supposed to be gone.

Jake and a team of warriors had personally escorted her father out of the Omatikaya forest yesterday. Jxo had even told her that they'd sent him off with more than a generous amount of provisions.

Fear rippled down her spine and her jaw hung in disbelief. "What are you doing here? Please leave," she managed to get out.

"You didn't think I was actually going to leave without you, did you?" he asked, head titled as he seemed to be admiring the colorful tapestry hanging Neteyam had gotten made for her.

"How'd you think I did with my goodbye speech? I thought I did quite well- Oh come now, don't look at me like that. Don't you remember? I told you, we are going back home. About damn time too."

She gaped at him. He was crazy. He had to have been. "Father...you need to leave, I-"

"Didn't you hear me girl? Pack your shit. Let's go."

"No!" she snapped.

He looked almost stunned for a moment before he was quickly advancing on her.

She jumped at his sudden movement, scrambling backwards on shaky legs. Xi tripped, knocking over a basket of sewing materials, knee colliding with the fort of assembled cushions and blankets Tuk had made when she, Lo'ak, Kiri and Spider visited last night.

Her father made a wild grab for her but she dodged him, causing him to run into Neteyam's collection of weapons- a few of them clattering to the floor with a loud CLANG.

Xi made a run for the tent's threshold but he caught her, grabbing hold of her queue, fingers clenched tight while she cried out in pain.

Thinking fast, she rammed her head backwards, catching him in the face with force.

She made a dive for one of the fallen weapons, snagging a small dagger just in the nick of time.

"Stop!" she yelled hysterically, brandishing the knife in front of her as she backed away.

The Li'ona male had no care however, he advanced towards her, dodging her skilled swings of the weapon, trying to catch her wrist.

Xi managed to nick him twice before slicing a deep gash to his stomach.

When he was momentarily stunned by the cut she inflicted, Xi used the opportunity to stab the short blade into his shoulder, twisting it for added measure. He roared in pain and anger and Xi made another attempt to flee.

She screamed when he clamped a fistful of her hair and roughly slammed her to the ground. Xi rolled and kicked his knee with all her might, making him buckle and grunt in pain. She crawled on all fours, trying to get to the exit but it was futile.

T'shteyo grabbed her ankle and dragged her backwards, rolling her over to restrain her thrashing. She struggled against him and scratched at his face- fingers digging into his flesh as he growled and seethed.

Xi released a gut wrenching scream for help- hoping someone would possibly be up or nearby at this hour but she was just as quickly silenced.

T'shteyo smacked her cheek so hard she went mute. Seeing stars as her cheek stung bad, she whimpered.

Her father stood at his full height, pulling her up with him as his palms circled her throat, squeezing whilst he fixed her with a murderous glare.

She clawed at the backs of the hands crushing her windpipe- her fingernails drawing blood as she struggled for breath, her feet dangling off the floor.

She was no match for him.

"P- p- please-" she gurgled when he tightened his grip.

"Try that shit again, and I'll kill you," he threatened. "Answer me."

"Ye-" she made a choking noise, blinking frantically as her vision swam.

"Here's what's going to happen. You're going to pack your shit like I told you and then we are going back to Li'ona. Understood?"

He let her go and she crumbled, catching herself on center table, gasping and coughing as she cupped her bruised neck. He laughed when she tried to call for help again but was unable to. "Now you can't scream."

Xi's throat burned and frightened tears stained her cheeks.

Panicked now that she couldn't yell for help, she tried to make another dash for the exit but he fisted her hair again- pulling at the roots painfully.

Ignoring her cries of hurt, he dragged her by the braids as she tripped over her feet, leading her towards her and Neteyam's private quarters.

He shoved her onto the bed roughly and backhanded her for the trouble she caused him.

He winced, looking down at the knife still embedded in his shoulder. With a simple tug he removed it, barely blinking an eye at the blood gushing from his wound.

Tearing apart a blanket from her bed, he dabbed away the excess blood. Taking a fresh strip, he tied the cloth tightly to his injury. And then, turning away, he began rifling through their possessions, stuffing item after item into a spare sack he found.

"Pack!" he barked, making her flinch.

She was too terrified to move however.

He admired one of Neteyam's chokers before taking it too. "It will go well with my staff once Su'ko returns my title to me. After all, what I've offered him, the bastard couldn't possibly refuse," he said almost conversationally.

He smiled when he found the boots Sal had made for her and tossed them at her, catching her in the face. "For the weather," he snarled, shouldering his stolen items onto his good shoulder.

Xi stared at the pretty boots in her lap- she hadn't worn them in months.

"I- I don't want to fight Father..." her voice was hoarse, raw from the trauma he'd inflicted to her throat. "I don't- I'm not going. My life is here...please don't do this."

She was shaking, fear rooting her to the spot. She was almost mad at herself for not fighting harder, for seeming to forget everything Neteyam had taught her in their lessons- for not trying to escape at the first sight of the man before her- for forgetting what he was truly capable of.

"Well tough because I didn't ask what you wanted, did I? I need you to complete the deal anyway," he said, walking back out into the main room.

Xi blinked, mind blank as she tried to process the situation. She gingerly walked toward the main room again, holding her side with a wince. T'shteyo was busy stuffing another pack now with the food from her kitchenette- blocking her from escaping.

"What deal?" she couldn't help asking, quietly.

He merely glanced at her. "You."

"M-me?"

"Su'ko sent a message. He agreed to take you in exchange for the title," he said mindlessly, moving on to scrutinize her husband's scattered weapons, stealing a few as he spoke. "He gets a whore and I become Olo'eyktan once again. A fair fucking deal if you ask me."

Xi blanched. "What? No- I am already mated! Neteyam is my hus-"

"That love sick fool is nothing! You're lucky he's not here tonight. I was planning on killing him before we left."

At the fleeting thought of her father killing her mate, fear and nausea wrecked Xilä.

"I gave no permission for him to have you. I decide who you are given to. Me! Don't forget it. We are not forest pests. It is not our way."

"Then what was the point of us fleeing here father?!" she yelled as loudly as she could manage. "Su'ko wants us dead, and you're going to- give me- to him? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Completely enraged, her words hissed like venom, "I am Omatikaya. I am the wife of the future Olo'eyktan, daughter-in-law of Toruk Makto! I will be Tsahìk. So you will treat me with resp-"

SMACK!

Xi crumbled in a heap to the floor from the blow and T'shteyo crouched in front of her to grip her jaw hard, forcing her to look up at him.

He smiled cynically and said in a calm, almost conversational manner, "Oh, but you are nothing, darling, you are beneath me. So fuck you and your plea for respect. You disappoint me Xilä. What about our ways? What about our people? Do you not care?"

He shoved her away looking disgusted. "Of course you don't care. You are just like her. Just like your fucking mother. I should've killed the bitch when I had the chance." He spat a blob of saliva at her as he got to his feet again, striding over to his loot to continue his packing.

Xi blinked back tears as crimson liquid pooled from her mouth. It was staining the pretty floor tapestry her in-law's had gifted them. Her ribs ached from when he'd tossed her to the ground and her cheek burned, she was sure that it was split open.

The clinking of glass had her head flicking up. The items in her father's hands were foreign- obviously from the lab.

A needle and a clear vial.

"You know, these blood demons aren't as useless as I thought," he said, clumsily filling the syringe with liquid from the vial. "The fuckers kept me...what was it they called it? Oh right sedated with these funny little contraptions. Wasn't hard to steal a couple while they weren't watching," he smirked.

Xilä's stomach clenched in fear.

"Get over here," he ordered, walking towards her. "You've stalled me long enough. Let's go already. I want to get away while it's still dark out," he ordered, "and before the chaos begins."

She shook her head frantically, trying to back away but it was no use. He grabbed her throat roughly and stuck her with the point. Xi gasped at the slight prick on her neck, frowning up at him in confusion when he released her.

"What was that?" she demanded, fingertips pressing at her skin in terror.

Limbs turning heavy, she blinked rapidly as darkness began to cloud her vision. Her head swam and she felt herself begin to slip away.

"Wah id yoo doooo," she slurred.

Panicked, she eyed the exit to her tent. If she could just move- if she could just scream.

Just before Xilä's eyes rolled up into her head- just before she collapsed into the abyss, she heard the loud familiar roar of a palulukan, followed by a slew of screams.

Neteyam was shaken awake by a member of his team. Immediately alert as he sat up, his eyes darted around for sources of danger.

"What is it?"

"Neteyam," Tasam said gravely. "There's call waiting for you. It's the chief's personal line. Answer it, quickly."

Fumbling with the earpiece he had popped off before going to sleep, he frowned as he watched his team hurriedly packing up their makeshift camp, called ikrans flying towards them at speed.

On his feet, he pressed on the device circling his neck, "Sir, you there?"

"Neteyam...bro, it's me." It was Lo'ak...and he sounded, off.

"What in Eywa's name is going on brother? Why is my team scrambling at this hour? We're set to leave first thing in the morn-"

"Neteyam."

Neteyam stilled in trepidation. Hearing the seriousness in Lo'ak's tone filled him with dread.

"I don't know how to say this but- look you need to come home alright? It's Xilä-"

"What about Xilä?!" he shouted, ignoring the concerned glances from his team as they hustled around.

"She's gone man. She- we can't find her. We think something happened- we think it was T'shteyo." Blood rushed in Neteyam's ears, muffling the rest of his brother's words. "We have units out searching for hours now-"

"Hours?! How long has she been missing? Why the fuck are you only telling me this now!" he hissed as he grabbed his bow and bag, blowing out a loud whistle as he strode straight to the edge of the cliff they were camped out at.

"I'm sorry but we thought we'd find her by now. There was an attack and- It's like she disappeared into fucking air! There are no tracks, her ikran is still here-"

"Have all the borders been checked?" Neteyam asked, mounting Buddy the moment he landed, flying off immediately- his team following behind.

"Yes, multiple times! We have teams set up incase they-"

"Who was the last person to see her?" Neteyam demanded, cutting his brother off again as he urged his banshee to fly faster, the wind whipping his braids backwards.

"I was. We all hung out late at your place and-"

"When did you realize she was missing? How long till someone noticed?!"

"Bro will you calm d-"

"Don't you tell me to calm down, Lo'ak! My mate is missing! MISSING! She is missing while I have been here strolling through a fucking mountain when I should have been out there searching for her! But no I wasn't, know why? Because I wasn't told anything until HOURS later! So don't you dare tell me to fucking calm down!"

He ended the connection and urged Buddy to go faster, praying to Eywa to keep his wife safe and praying for sanity since he felt himself spiraling.

There was one thing for certain however. If it truly was T'shteyo behind his mate's sudden disappearance...

Neteyam knew.

Without a doubt.

He was going to kill him.

I would just like to apologize in advance...as a reader who absolutely detests cliff hangers herself, I'm so so sorry.

But I do hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. I can't promise when the next part will be out, so please bear with me lovelies.

And of course, once again a big special shout out and hug to my friend Tori. 💛

As always thank you for reading, please let me know your thoughts :)

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop @blkmystery @neteswife @luvteyams @isnt-itstrange @erenjaegerwifee

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

#neteyam #neteyam x oc #neteyam avatar #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully

173 notes · View notes

koji-haru · 2 months ago

Text

But the one who stands firm to the end will be saved

[Spooky month is here! So, as promised, here's a oneshot. There will be more in the following weeks.

This one is adamsapple if you squint

Some CWs: depictions of violence, depression, panic attacks, suicidal ideation.

I think that should cover it, but please let me know if I missed anything! I'm not good at this!

Also, I'm not sure if this counts as horror, but it sure isn't a happy story, so that's something at least. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!]

Adam forced his eye open, and was greeted by the recently familiar wine red ceiling and walls, with ornate wooden carvings in the corners. The fatigue that had been gradually building up in his muscles begged him to stay still, but the pain that littered his body kept him from getting any rest. Regardless, he had no time to relax.

With as much effort he could muster, Adam pushed the velvety blanket off of him and sat up, carefully placing his bare feet onto the cold wooden floor. He took a deep breath and pushed himself off the plush bed, nearly crashing face first towards the floor as his legs cried out in pain and exhaustion. A drop. Then another, and another, and another. Red slowly dripped from his left leg, his wound from two (or was it three, maybe four?) nights ago reopening, the sting of the cold air only emphasising the warm throbbing. Adam shifted his weight onto his other leg as he braced himself onto the wall. It was possible. He could still walk, much slower than he would prefer but he could manage, no, he had to manage.

With little bloody droplets trailing behind him, Adam limped towards the bedroom door, a floorboard creaking every so often. He reached out for the golden knob. It felt frozen in his pallid hand, though it barely affected him anymore at this point. Was he really going to try again? How many times has it already been? His once iron resolve had slowly been gathering rust, the red coating turning his resolve brittle and ready to snap and break.

The dull persistent pain on the right side of his back pulled him away from succumbing. There was no way he could accept this. Especially not after everything that had happened. He just couldn’t. He needed to get out. He turned the knob, it was unlocked as always, and slowly, the door creaked open revealing an expansive darkness awaiting for him as if welcoming him back in its grisly embrace. Adam gulped, swallowing down the rising fear that threatened to spill out of every orifice in his body. No matter how many times he had already faced this darkness, his body still trembled at the mere presence of it. Now more than ever, he missed the warm glow of his halo. But that was…some time ago. He would have to traverse this stifling gloom by his lonesome.

His feet hurt. From what he couldn’t tell anymore. Was it from the freezing wooden floor that seemed unwilling to let go of his skin every time he lifted a foot so he could walk, or from the blue and purple blooms that spread from his feet up to his thighs? Did it matter? All he knew was that his feet hurt, and it was slowing him down even more. Adam gasped for air, bracing himself against the wall. He could feel himself getting faint, and yet he had only seen darkness thus far. He was about to slide down the wall and sit on the floor to rest when dull, heavy footsteps echoed in the endless hallway. Did it come from his left? Or was it from in front of him? In any case, the steps were getting louder and louder, closer and closer. Then it abruptly stopped. Adam remained still from where he stood, his eye wide trying to see in the darkness. He waited and waited, not daring to move at all lest he made a sound and catch the creature’s attention. Silence. Then an unnatural growl in the shadows let Adam know that it was coming for him.

Without so much as a thought, Adam hurriedly stumbled back, hands desperately searching the walls for a door despite knowing there weren’t any when he first passed through the hall. Somehow, his searching hands landed on something round, cold and metallic. A doorknob! He twisted it and pushed the door open before slamming it shut and clicking the lock in place. Where was he now? He turned around to examine the room he was in and was greeted by familiar red wine walls and ceiling, wooden carvings in the corners of the room, a soft looking bed with its thick velvety blanket roughly pushed to the side, and little droplets of blood by the bedside leading to where he stood.

Adam felt his heart sink even further. He looked towards the barred window. The hellish sky was still a bright shade of red. That meant he still had time before he came back home. And so, despite his entire body protesting any sort of movement, Adam pulled himself up. Again. For the umpteenth time.

Adam was back staggering in the hallway devoid of any light. He moved a little slower this time, mainly due to the agony every fibre in his muscle felt, but also to carefully feel the stretching walls of the hall for any doors that might have just recently formed. It was a hopeless task; he knew how this place worked, but what else could he do? He either play his sick game or be swallowed whole. Neither sounded appealing to him, but he’d also rather die trying than accept his offer.

The hall stretched on longer and longer before his hand touched on another round metallic object. Another door knob. Adam slowly turned the handle, careful not to make any sound, and pushed the door slightly open. A faint orange glow peeked through the small opening he made, and not hearing any other noise in the room, Adam decided to push the door wider. It was a small room with a corner bookshelf filled with a variety of books and decorations, a small window beside the bookshelf (it was also barred), and a wooden desk covered with scattered pages on the other side of the bookshelf. A single lit candle lamp sat atop one of the shelves. But what caught Adam’s eye was the silver glint sticking out of the rotten wooden desk, calling to him like a siren song. He stepped into the room, his nose scrunching up as the musty air invaded his lungs and settled there. The floorboards groaned and moaned under his weight as he continued further towards the glint on the desk. He wrapped his fingers, pasty and scabbed, around the handle, and with what little strength he still had pulled until it was no longer stuck onto the desk. It was a silver dagger. A tiny ornate thing with intricate swirls and curves along the cross-guard and the hilt; not big enough to be particularly dangerous, but enough to be able to defend yourself, if you knew how to use it.

Adam twisted and turned the dagger in his hands, feeling its shape and weight in his palm and between his fingers. The dagger itself was polished and sharp enough to easily slice and pierce through flesh, a stark contrast to the creaky room full of decay and forgotten bits that it was found in. Still, it wouldn’t be enough to even scratch him, but if he himself had enough… No. Adam shook his head to get the thought out of his head. This place was getting to him. He was getting to him.

He let out a shaky sigh. He stood there alone in the room like the old, decrepit thing that he was. His once perfect body, strong and sturdy, skin in a tanned glow, was now pathetically trembling as his sickly, bony flesh struggled to even keep itself together. His heavenly gold and white robe now mere tattered rags that barely covered his body. And his wings… oh his wings. He missed how his large golden wings carried him through the skies, how the soft feathers used to feel wrapped around him whenever he needed comfort. Adam looked down behind his left side where red stained, dull feathers dragged heavily across the floor. It barely even had feathers anymore. It was closer to patches of matted feathers on pale skin. He wouldn’t even look on his right side. The pain lingered still, always and forever fresh in his mind.

It was horrible. This was horrible. He was horrible. And he hated this, and that, and everything. He especially hated him. But he also hated himself for not being able to fight back, for allowing this to happen to himself.

Oh, back at it again? It’s like you’re asking for more.

His voice, his slithery mocking laugh resonated within Adam’s mind, a poisonous sting that slowly killed him from the inside. Spreading rot and decay throughout the entirety of his shell starting from the mind. Everytime Adam tried, his words echoed everywhere around him. Mocking his useless attempts and his miserable display.

Adam could feel his knees buckle from the weight that plagued his mind, and he held onto the rotten desk for dear life. He could feel the floor slipping away from him, the world spinning round and round. And in the corner of his vision were a pair of wicked eyes, eerie yellow surrounded by fiery reds, piercing through his flesh and burning him from the inside. All while peeling him open, exposing his every vulnerability to this hellish world. Those eyes turned every skin, every muscle, every bone one by one, reading each part of him as if they were little curios for display.

Amused laughter echoed in the room, whispers getting louder and louder, and then a thin shaded figure emerged from the flickering shadows and stood by the rickety bookshelf. Its long clawed hands inched towards the candle, pinching the flame’s light out of existence. And then a rotten floorboard was in front of Adam. He blinked slowly, confused on how he got there. There was a new fresh pain in his left hand, and he brought them in front of him, there were splinters stuck on his left hand from where he grasped too hard on the desk, breaking some pieces off as he collapsed in on himself. He looked up. There were no eyes burning through his flesh. No moving floors or spinning walls. It was just him, sat on the creaky floor, looking like a lost sheep away from his shepherd. He needed to get out of here.

One by one, he pulled the splinters out of the skin of his now spotted red hand, and with shaky legs, pulled himself up to his feet once more. A minor setback. Everyone had those. He looked at the barred window, the sky was still a lighter shade of red. Good. He could still try. Adam hobbled his way back to the room’s door and back to the never ending hallway, the dagger gripped tight on his other hand. More opportunities awaited.

He was back wandering the endless darkness again. The familiarity was almost a comfort to him, if only he didn’t know the other residents that also lurked in these halls. He shut another door again, not even bothering to go inside. Almost every other room he found in these corridors was the room he always found himself waking up in everyday. Others were led to that mouldy study he got the dagger from, and some simply opened to a wall. He continued forward onto the darkness, hands back to wandering along the walls. Then in front of him were two dull orange slits shining faintly on the floor. Had he somehow reached the end of the hallway? That hadn’t happened before. Quietly, he walked towards the light, his eye squinting to look for the door knob and ears straining for any sound that might come from behind the door.

Deep heavy rumbling. That was what he heard. Which quickly turned to a low growl, and the orange light that he thought was light peeking through a door, slowly rose in the darkness and opened wide. Its stare was deathly, angered by the disturbance of its rest. Hefty footsteps thudded across the floor followed by the click clacking of sharp, curving claws. It bared its fangs, sharp teeth glimmering in the darkness, and Adam didn’t need any more signs before quickly turning to the other direction. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough as a sharp claw pierced through the heavy wing that dragged heavily behind him. Adam let out a cry of pain as glowing golden blood spilt from the torn flesh between the matted feathers and onto the cold wooden floor. He pulled and pulled, muscle and flesh torn further apart as bones creaked from the tension and more blood pooled between him and the monster. His golden blood illuminated the corridor, and what towered in front of him was a fleshy, hairless creature with round orange eyes. Its mouth was decorated by yellowed pointed teeth that formed in circles from the outermost part of the mouth to deep in its throat. Its mouth hung wide open dragging across the floor, jagged teeth scraping the floorboards. One of its many bony hands that protruded from its back pierced his wing, its claws stuck deep amongst flesh and matted feathers. It let out a low, deafening bellow, its mouth somehow stretching even wider showing its countless teeth as its many fleshy hands clawed through the floorboards and the walls, slowly dragging its sagging, heavy body across the corridor closer towards Adam.

Fear and panic surged throughout Adam’s entire being. No matter how hard he pulled, his wing remained stuck and attached to that monster’s claws. This couldn’t be it. He couldn’t die this way. After everything he had gone through, just to become some demon’s next meal. Attached… wait. More skeletal hands reached out closer to him, desperately grasping at him, pulling at his torn robes. Afraid of those hands coming any more closer to him, Adam did something he never thought he never would’ve considered ever doing. He squeezed his eye shut, and with a loud cry, swiftly swung the silver dagger behind him, tearing at the base of his remaining wing. But it wasn’t enough. The wing still remained attached to him, binding him to the monster’s claws. So he swung again and again and again, stabbing at the bone until the entire structure fell apart, his wing slumping onto the floor with a thud, and he was freed from the monster’s grasp. Then he ran.

Despite the burning pain that was steadily blossoming in his back, Adam managed to bring himself to run far away from the monster. He gasped and heaved as he fell onto his knees, a trail of gold behind him. His cheeks tear stained from the pain and loss of his other wing. Why? Why do I even bother? Another part of him was lost in this place. Slowly, but surely, he was being stripped of his very being.

More tears fell down his cheeks and onto the wooden floor. He wasn’t sure if he could keep going. Everyday and every night, he prayed and begged for God to come save him, to take him away from this place, to end this horrible nightmare. His blood had remained golden still, and yet no one had come to get him. Had they abandoned him? Was this where he belonged now? Thrown away and abandoned like trash.

He sobbed and wailed, unable to contain the despair inside of him anymore. His broken heart poured out every sorrow and misery he had suffered, spilling out into the darkness. Oh Father, why have you forsaken me?

A door creaked open, and light pushed the darkness that engulfed Adam. Heels clacked along the wooden floor, inching closer towards the sobbing man. There was a thud in front of him, and cool hands cupped his face, forcing him to look up. In front of him was a delicate pale-white face with rosy red cheeks, neat blonde hair that looked softer than clouds, and yellow-red eyes that looked at him so fondly. A sweet angelic face in this hellish landscape. It was the devil himself.

“Oh darling, what happened to you?” Lucifer gently rubbed his tears away with his thumbs. “Did you hurt yourself again?”

Adam simply shook and cried some more. He couldn’t do this anymore. “Don’t. Don’t give me that look. Just leave me alone, please…,” he begged feebly, his voice hoarse from the crying.

“There there,” Lucifer rubbed Adam’s back in a loving and soothing manner. “I’m here now, everything will be alright.” He placed his fingers under Adam’s chin and pulled him in for a tender kiss; his forked tongue licking in between the other’s lips asking for entrance, though the only response he got were more trembling and quiet sobs. Hm, maybe next time.

Lucifer placed Adam’s arm over his shoulder and pulled him up. “Now, how about some pancakes? You can have whatever topping you want!,” he chirped as he led Adam towards the dining area, but not before noting the reddening blood trail behind them.

It was progress.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #adamsapple #hazbin hotel lucifer #🍎🎸#lucifer x adam #Halloween #horror

50 notes · View notes