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atzfilm · 7 months

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— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [6] (M)

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find. it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader, mxm (this chapter); yeosang x reader, wooyoung x reader; 12.7k

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder references, manipulation, blood, torture references, dark magic, lying, emotional turmoil, injuries, slight descriptions of gore, worship references (?), smut

Chapter 6

You've grown to notice that it is never truly cold in the forest around their home. It feels as if it’s a warm bubble, unaffected by outside elements. None of the faeries ever mention it, probably accustomed to the odd temperature. You yourself are not, jacket wrapped around your waist as you walk through the small path Yeosang has taken you on. His clothing is loose, steps gliding along the slow breeze. All of them are quiet when they walk, barely the sound of a leaf crunching beneath their feet. He does not move as fast as San did when you arrived. In fact, there's little space between you, his skin close to brushing against your own.

Since you have known him, he has been indifferent to your presence. Oftentimes mulling in silence whenever you two spent time together, or glued to whatever object was around at the time. Being alone with him didn't happen often – most occasions he'd have San tied to his side, fingers wrapped around his waist, moving where he moved. Or Wooyoung lingering around you. So you're quite surprised he even wants you out here alone with him. You aren't close at all.

“The house could be quite a nuisance,” he says softly, hand sliding in yours as you climb around a protruding rock. Now that you know he can feel what you're thinking, the coincidences of him answering your thoughts aren't so shocking anymore. You expect him to let go once you’ve steadied yourself but he doesn’t, fingers entwined. “Everyone is watching your every move. San unwilling to leave your side for even a breath,” he smiles, slightly toothy grin. “Now you know how I feel.”

“It’s like he’s attached. Each time I leave the room he follows,” you say, and Yeosang snorts, nodding.

“Seonghwa warned him that he is to keep his eye on you. None of us know when you’ll–” he snaps his fingers on his free hand– “Better to be safe than sorry.”

“I’m not going to do anything.” There’s little ground to defend yourself on, but still. You can barely remember what happened then. It was a life or death situation. You doubt it'd happen now. “Just don’t try to kill me or anything.”

“Is that a threat?” he teases, brow raised. “Not to worry. I doubt any of us would do such a thing. We have morals, you know. Even as Unseelie.”

“San was explaining that to me. Between the chaos there is comfort. I can see it when you're around each other. You tease, but you do care. In different ways.”

“We do. Our inane element of chaos is fairly simple. We reign terror on human lives. It has lessened over the years now since humans aren't as inept as before. It takes time for us to ruin their lives,” he glances at you from the side. “You may witness it in person eventually.”

“Just like how you've caused it on mine?” You barely speak above a whisper, but Yeosang catches the irritated murmur, laughing softly as he helps you over a fallen tree. The sound is a bit eerie under these circumstances. You are trapped and he knows it so clearly. His laughter is evident enough of that.

“Precisely. We are almost there, human. Watch your step,” he pulls you closer to him, arm wrapped around your body, fingers light against your waist. Oddly it reminds you of Wooyoung – neither of the two's actions in consideration of the person they bother. In a way you believe that while Wooyoung touches you whenever he likes on purpose, Yeosang fails to realize there is an issue at all. He lets go when you enter the field, gracefully crossing his legs as he rests on the flower petals. You sit next to him with far less elegance, taking in your surroundings.

It is strange to see anything like this in the forest nearest your town. A small waterfall and a body of water sit in front of you, the sound of the liquid splashing filling the night. You pay no mind to how Yeosang watches you, your interest in the natural structures in front of you. A group of deer bend their necks, drinking the freshly cycled water from the pond.

“Hongjoong showed me this place when we first arrived,” Yeosang explains, head resting in his hands. “He told me that I can come whenever I like to clear my mind or hide away. He hasn't shown up here since, I'm sure out of respect for me. If you'd like I can come with you here whenever you need. I thought it would bring you some comfort amongst everything else.”

It does. Your emotions weigh heavy on you. Missing your family, mourning your lost relationship. Hurt sitting inside you with everything that's happened. You haven't gotten the chance to really let that feeling settle because you haven't had time to yourself. Though now you technically still don't, Yeosang doesn't speak. He doesn't interrupt the silence. No, all he does is stretch out his fingers, a book appearing on his palm. He flips through the pages, filling the air between the two of you.

“Thank you.”

The grass beneath you is comforting as you lie back, eyes closed. The sound of a page flipping continues.

“Thanking me is not needed.”

—

“Where did you take her?”

Yeosang barely looks up from his literature, a sigh escaping from his lips. Perhaps the two of you should have stayed out much longer. “Welcome home.”

“You can't just take her out of the house, Yeosang. We have to keep an eye on her at all times. You can't be alone without any of us near.” Seonghwa's voice is frustrated as he opens the fridge, digging through the drawers. “If she attempts to kill you we're too far away to stop it. You have to think these things through before committing to it.”

“The human isn't going to kill me, hyung,” Yeosang murmurs, frowning as he reads the next line. “Oh what a pity.”

“What?” Seonghwa turns, seeing his mate staring at the book.

Yeosang looks up, pointing to the page, “They died before meeting. They've been waiting years but they both died. It's horrific,” he shakes his head, continuing to flip through. It only gets Seonghwa more frustrated, frown on his lips soon to permanently embed itself in his face.

“You are not listening to me–”

“Oh, but I am listening perfectly, Seonghwa. I just wonder when you will finally let one of us know what's on your mind. And why you continue to lie about her to us,” Yeosang hums. “Maybe then I will give you my full, undivided attention. But for now, since you will likely respond with another lie, I will continue to read.” he looks up from his book, eyes resting on his. It makes the lump in Seonghwa's throat grow. Disappointment. Yeosang isn't like the others in that sense. He's hidden with his emotions, only letting his frustration or irritation through individual talks. Never letting another person around hear it. So now, even though they are both alone at the moment, it hurts Seonghwa to see that even with this privacy, Yeosang does not let his true feelings slip out. His hurt must be larger than he can comprehend.

It's not like Seonghwa doesn't want to say it. But solidifying his suspicions without being one hundred percent sure would only be useless. Turn them in a direction that they don't need to be in right now. They should be focused on the growing threat of Seelie entering their land, not you. You would just be a distraction between it all if you are human. And if Seonghwa is right about what you really are, then you're an asset to their team. If his spark all can fall under your charms without much effort, the Seelie are sure to fall for it. And they could finally subdue them once and for all. The only glaring problem with his plan, that is, is if you turn on them. It is the main reason why he dislikes whenever you’re left alone with just one.

“It is for a reason, Yeosang.” Seonghwa holds the tangerine in his hand, slowly peeling off the skin. “I hope you can understand.”

“We don't hide things from one another,” Yeosang says, writing into the pages of his novel. “So if you expect sympathy from me you've gone to the wrong mate. Perhaps Hongjoong, or Jongho will give you what you desire.” His brows furrow, frustration etching itself into his skin. “Now you can go. I'm getting distracted.”

Seonghwa places a tangerine in front of Yeosang's folded legs, leaving the room altogether. Once he is gone, Yeosang grabs the fruit. He stares at it, thumb running along the surface. It pierces the skin, juices sliding down his skin, spilling onto the book that rests in his lap. He sighs in frustration, tossing the fruit into the sink several meters away.

“Everything would be solved if she were dead,” he murmurs.

—

“Three.”

“Nope.”

“Less than that?”

“Much less.”

“It can't just be me, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung grins, palm holding up his head as he looks up at you. “It's surprising, no? But it's true. All I've ever wanted, no, desired, was other faeries or creatures beyond your comprehension. Humans are only playthings to me. Meals at the end of the day. Nothing more.”

The thought makes your stomach want to fold in on itself. “You're joking?”

“Unfortunately no,” he sighs, letting his head flop down to your sheets. “Your scent is all consuming, solaris. No other human has affected me in such a way. And it wouldn't make sense to have a human partner when all I'd do is just kill them in the end.” His eyes shift to you. “I wouldn't do that to you though, I like you too much.”

“How wonderful,” Sarcasm drips from your words as he laughs. Easily speaking of killing humans, as if he's talking about playing a game. Some things you'll never get used to when hanging out with Unseelie. Their lack of care for living still makes you feel queasy. Your one murder haunts you every night, but he, no, they, thrive in it. You just cannot imagine it.

“You've overstayed your welcome,” Yeosang stands on the outside of the door, arms crossed against his chest. He nods at you, expression surprisingly warm. Since that night, Yeosang often spent time with you. He hasn't said much, as usual, but he sought you out for quiet. Wooyoung being here right now is likely the opposite of what he wants.

Wooyoung's head rolls to the side, eyes narrowing at his mate. “You bother her too much. Give solaris some space.”

“You're in her room every night,” Yeosang deadpans.

“Yes, and? She enjoys me around her, I liven up the place! Don't you enjoy me?” His pout matches the whiny tone of his voice. In the beginning it was mildly irritating, but you do enjoy it now. Not that you'd admit it to him. He'd never leave your side at that rate.

“No.”

“Solaris!” He whines, tucking himself further into your sheets. It would be humorous if it weren’t for the look Yeosang gives him.

“Leave,” Yeosang says, his voice firmer now. “Mingi and San need you.”

“On a scale of not needed at all to they're currently dying, where does the need of my presence fall–”

“Go, now.”

Mingi. You haven't seen him in a while, assuming that he was on a mission. Knowing that he's around makes you wonder a bit. He hasn't greeted you since you've arrived again. Was he afraid of seeing you? No, that couldn't be. You were afraid of him, not the other way around.

Wooyoung painfully drags himself off your sheets, sending you a quick look before moving past Yeosang. His hand reaches out and grips Wooyoung’s bicep, their eyes meeting. They often communicate without speaking, gazes flicking over one another’s before Wooyoung leaves down the hall. Yeosang turns to look at you, exhaustion easily lining his gaze. Still you envy their connection, unlike anything you’d ever experience yourself. You wouldn’t want to become an Unseelie, but their devotion to each other is formidable. If only your kind were the same. Perhaps if humans were equally bonded to one another, there’d be less infighting and more respect spread across the Earth. But of course, just wishful thinking.

“Hongjoong asked for you,” Yeosang says.

“The man of the hour,” you murmur, sighing. “Why can’t he just come here himself?”

“Believe it or not,” Yeosang smiles. “He is a bit more busy than you think. He didn’t technically ask for me to come find you, but I doubt he would find the time to leave himself. And Yunho is too preoccupied to come here. I’m the only one free at the moment.”

You lift yourself up from your seat, stepping past the small gap between Yeosang and the doorway. He shifts slightly, arm brushing against yours as you make your way around. He does not follow you promptly. You turn to look at him, his sight glued on yours.

“Something the matter?”

His expression changes, and he merely shakes his head. “Nothing. I’ll lead the way.”

—

Yeosang leaves you with him, fingers brushing against the back of your hand as he disappears down the hall. He did not try to start a conversation as you two were walking alone, briefly glancing at you from time to time. Whatever you did moments ago must have bothered him enough to not even attempt to dissolve the awkwardness resting between both of you. But you didn’t either, so there’s that.

You slowly enter, your steps echoing as you move further inside. You’ve been inside Hongjoong’s office once before, but never in his room. It is nothing like you expected it to be - no torture devices hanging from the walls. Instead, vinyls resting on clear displays, cds in between each one. In fact, there were several instruments decorated all about, some you couldn’t even recognize yourself. Many likely hundreds of years old. This is his place, his mind. The thought of peering into his personal space, his mind, even if ever briefly, makes you anxious, goosebumps rising on your skin as you take yourself further in. It can’t be that bad.

He at least tolerates you enough to have you still around.

“Why are you here?”

You turn to the side, Hongjoong hunched over at his desk, pen dragging across stationary as he writes. He does not look up so you can only assume he heard your loud steps enter his room. The notebook he writes in is well-worn, corners curved in and cover peeling. His eyes briefly meet yours after you don’t speak, brow raised in expectation. “Well?”

“Yeosang told me you wanted to see me.”

He rolls his eyes, staring at his writing before ripping out a page, crumbling it up and snapping his fingers. The paper engulfed in flames before flickering into ashes, sliding off his table and into the bin beneath. “Yeosang tells everyone a lot of things, that does not mean it’s true. You’ll learn to not listen to his words after a while. He’s quite mischievous,” he murmurs.

“Then I am not needed?” You’re thankful, really. Being in his space, his scent, creates a strange feeling within you. There’s a reason you avoid him, more than just being afraid.

Hongjoong stands, throwing his notebook off his table. You take a step back just as he moves forward, too fast for you to leave his sight. His hands grip your body, pulling you close to him.

“Personal space is a thing, Hongjoong.”

“You want me to speak to you, truly?”

You try pulling away but his hold only tightens. So instead of fighting a losing battle, you speak through tight lips, “Say what you have to say.”

“What is it you want me to say? That I would follow you everywhere, until your steps become my own, until your breaths mingle with mine? There's no need for that. There is no where you will go that will be where I am not. It is all but that simple.” He cradles your face in his hands, thumbs rubbing against the skin. It takes everything in you not to flinch. “That is all I need, and it is all you’ve wanted. We will no longer be separated; you won’t be left alone. Is that what you want?”

What is he even saying? The more he trails on, the more fear begins to circulate your veins. He does not seem to notice it, so he continues when greeted with silence. “Soobin is no longer an issue since he’s gone. You’re free to desire whomever you want without him holding you back.”

His name pulls you out of your confusion almost instantaneously. “He was my partner, Hongjoong,” your brows furrow. “He’s the reason I’m even in this town in the first place. Why would he be holding me back? I love him.” And it’s true. There has been a bit of wavering in your love, and he broke your heart not too long ago. Mourning a love lost is one thing, but losing that love for him completely is entirely different.

You don’t see the way his mouth twitches at the word love. What you do see, though, is the way his eyes narrow. “He’s gone.”

“Love doesn’t just disappear when I no longer see him.”

“Then how will it? Must he come to you and say he hates you? Will he have to attempt to hurt you for it to go away? Why do humans continue to love someone who’s left them? Why can’t you let him go?” What else does he have to do? Should he have manipulated the human’s mind before they killed him? Made him break your heart? He thought Mingi’s appearance was enough to stop your mind from lingering on him. But it seems like it has done little.

You stare at Hongjoong as he loses himself in his thoughts. You’ve believed in inherent goodness, but there’s always been this underlying fear of them, just for the nature of them being Unseelies alone. Knowing that despite all of what they say, it’s something they can’t change. It’s something you’ve settled with. But hearing his words, the way his eyes shake as he looks at you… something tells you that he’s off. That despite their comfort and sympathy, they know what happened to Soobin.

An even smaller part of you believes that they’ve done something to him.

“Why do you care?”

He does not respond, waiting for you to continue. In the position you are right now, it’s hard not to.

“It’s hard to,” you explain, choosing your words carefully. “I’ve known him since we were children, and even if I didn’t love him in the romantic sense, I still would love him as a former friend. It hurts to just lose a friendship like that.”

"If I killed it would you forget him?"

You still. His touch is ever so delicate as he waits for your response. Eyes warm, blinking slowly. It's as if he didn't just say he'd do something so heinous, so unthinkable.

"What?" Is all you can respond with.

He leans closer to you, barely a breath away from your lips. His eyes flick over your face, before landing back on your eyes. "If I killed your weak, miserable, disgusting, incompetent, lackluster ex-partner, as you call it, will you forget then? Will you mourn its loss then come into my arms? Will you love me as you love it?"

It. Perhaps his mask slid down just a bit.

"You're out of your mind."

"I am very much sane, y/n. It's a simple question with an even simpler answer."

"No."

"No…?"

"I wouldn't forgive you if you killed him, Hongjoong."

He rolls his eyes, a huff echoing around the room. "How boring and mundane. I thought you were more amusing than that." He moves away from you now, grabbing his notebook he threw across the room. “Yeosang was right, I did want to speak to you. Not yet, but I suppose I have little reason to keep it to myself. Seonghwa suspects that you are not human.”

He moves on from the moment as if it never happened, as if he did not threaten your old partner. The subject change easily distracts you though, the idea so otherworldly that you scoff. Hongjoong snickers at the sound, standing up. “You make that incredulous sound but Seonghwa has rarely ever been wrong in his findings. You may not be as human as you think.”

“I’m only human, Hongjoong. There’s nothing else to it.”

“That you know of,” he adds, placing his book back on his table. “You’ve lived as a human your whole life you know nothing other than that. Of course you’d think the thought silly.”

“What do you want me to say? First you threaten my old partner and now you say that I’m not human? Do you want me to beg at your knees and tell you that it’s not true?”

“The thought of you on your knees in front of me isn’t unappealing,” he chirps.

“You’re,” you hold your tongue. It’s not the smartest thing to do - insulting an Unseelie in their territory. Hongjoong is unhinged already, no need to push him further into his madness. But you cannot help yourself. “You’re disgusting.”

He shrugs, “That’s not the worst insult I’ve ever heard. You've overstayed your welcome, you can go.” His hand waves you off, giving you his back completely. Though you expect nothing less from him, it still feels humiliating. But there's nothing you can do. Not now. You decide it's best to just leave completely, door slamming behind you as you exit the room. Yeosang lingers outside, book closing when you walk past him. He reaches out for your arm but you shove his touch off, making your way to your room.

You don't quite notice how hard you’ve pushed him, his body thumping against the wood. Yeosang looks down at his hand. How his fingers curl into themselves. You pushed him off. Strength formidable to his own with just a spike in your anger. He does not follow you but instead, enter the room you just left.

—

“He is an Unseelie. It is not unlike him to thrive off of your anger and frustration. It's tantalizing, the energy oozing from humans. It is fun for us,” Wooyoung's laying on your bed once again, arms folded beneath his head, eyes on the ceiling. “It tastes wonderful, though not as good as fear.”

“Doesn't really ease my nerves,” you say, flipping through the book he handed you. It's something he grabbed from Jongho, the scrawny writing etched into the pages. You snicker at the jabs he adds in, his notations growing more humorous as you turn pages. It's distracting enough for now. A hand covers the writing, Wooyoung's pout forcing you to stop. You shut the book, placing it on your side table. “He is annoying, Wooyoung. I don't think I'll last here long with him constantly saying shit and me not being able to say anything back.”

“You can argue with him, solaris. He won't kick you out.” He sees your expression, sighing. “We all do it, and none of us have left yet–”

“You are his mates, his spark. He wouldn't throw you out because of an argument. I have nothing left if I leave, Wooyoung. My family would be in danger, Soobin would be in danger, right when I step outside someone is waiting to kill me. It's exhausting to think about.”

“You have to learn to put yourself first instead of worrying about others,” he says. “And your family is as safe as they can be right now. They do not remember you, and you’ve been pulled from their lives. If a Seelie truly digs for it they will find them, but we will know before anything happens,” Wooyoung presses his finger against his temple. “I’ve got them on my radar.”

“You’re only confusing me more.”

“A spell, solaris. I’m keeping my eye on them every second. You’ll know if anything is amiss. Unfortunately though, I’d rather not update you on mundane things. It’ll make letting them go harder to bear.”

You do not agree with his method of lessening your worry, but you’d rather not argue with another Unseelie, too distraught from the last conversation to probe any further. You sink yourself deeper into the seat, closing your eyes. His silence is enough to make you open a lid, meeting the eyes of the Unseelie who continues to stare. You shake your head, closing them once more.

“Taking a picture would be better than you just staring.”

“Is that a joke or can I really take a photo?”

This time both of your eyes open, moving to him. He hasn’t moved from his spot, the devilish grin still on his face as he laughs. “I was kidding.”

“How unfortunate.”

You hum in agreement, eyes closing again. Since Wooyoung is often lingering around your room and having time to yourself is only reserved for late nights, San hasn’t really come around anymore. Sometimes he’d show here and there, but only for a quick once over and disappearing back to wherever he spends his time. It’s why you’ve grown used to Wooyoung threatening to tear your door down if you don’t let him in. Sure, it’s a bit concerning and mildly threatening, but he hasn’t done anything nefarious. Flirting here and there, maybe a bit of annoying banter, but you enjoy it. He’s one of your only companions that you have, even if you were essentially forced to live with him.

Your mother wouldn’t let you out of her sight if she knew.

“Do you like me around, solaris?” he asks after a moment.

“No.”

“If that is truly what you think, you don’t have to say yes and allow me to enter your room if you’re not comfortable with it.”

Nope. You don’t want this conversation to happen now. Not when you’re still figuring this out, trying to decipher what your feelings are for him. “I’m… fine with you being around, Wooyoung. You’re fun to hang around with.”

“As friends?” He asks. You hear the creak of your bed and immediately open your eyes. He sits on the edge of it, eyes looking through the open porch door. He does not look at you and yet, you feel like his attention is focused on the beats of your heart, the sound of your breaths. “Do you consider me a friend?”

“I don’t know.”

And it is true. You’re not sure how to classify your relationship with him. You’re friends, maybe. But it would be a lie if you were just that. He’s open with his own feelings, how much he wants you to want him. You just… don’t understand how he could want you so badly when he has seven other mates to focus on. And from what you know, despite Hongjoong’s slip of information, you’re a human. There’s nothing truly special about you aside from your little blip a while ago.

“Are you afraid of me?”

This is one you can answer with ease. “Yes.”

He turns around to look at you. It’s hard to see his face, the sun shining on the back of his head draping his face in darkness. You can barely see through the rays yourself. You watch as he stands, a slight step towards you. You follow his movements, though making no move to back up or go forward.

“That’s good, to be afraid of me,” he murmurs. “Perhaps you are not as clueless as we’ve previously thought. Being on guard around us, holding your feelings close. It is good.”

“What are you getting at, Wooyoung?”

“What I’m getting at is that you fear us, I can see it. I see how you interact with everyone, with me. But we both know how you feel about me. Even if you cannot say it yourself.” he moves even closer to you. But instead of standing in front of you, he slowly goes down on his knees. “If I am so terrifying to you, will this change things? My submission to you?”

He reaches up, his hands slowly holding yours in his grip as he places them on either side of his cheek. His eyelashes flutter once they touch his skin, a slow, clear groan escaping his parted lips. “It could be so easy for us. You could be mine, and I yours,” he whines.

“You have mates, Wooyoung. There’s no need for me.”

“They do not mind my yearn for you, if that is what you are worried about. None of them do. We all love each other differently, in different ways. My care for you is nothing like my care for them, but it does not have to be. You are different.”

Oh no.

You hold his face in your hands, fingers shakily stroking the tan of his skin, brushing against the mole beneath his eyes. They remain focused on you, lips trembling beneath each caress. You can hear your heart in your ears, pumping violently against your ribcage. It is familiar. A feeling you haven’t felt in a while.

You might just be in love with him.

And it is terrifying.

The revelation is alarming, swelling. It frightens you each passing second. You love him dearly. How has he worked himself into your heart? Is this coercion? Maybe he’s manipulated you to the point of no return. It is reasonable to think so. Before you were terribly frightened of his presence around you, aware that at any moment they may decide to drag their lengthened nails into your chest, killing you. And yet here you sit, Wooyoung crouched beneath you, his nails leaving indents in your thighs from how desperate his hold is, his warm, aroused eyes flicking between yours. The gasps leave your lips as his hands travel closer and closer to you. Right now you are not as afraid of him, not completely.

How could you love someone so easily when you lost the man you thought you were going to marry not too long ago? It should have been harder to fall for his charms. It shouldn’t have happened so quickly at all; and yet here you are.

Your thumb presses lightly into his lips, the flick of his tongue eagerly dragging on the pad of it. Never in your life have you seen such desperation from a partner, such eagerness to have you. It is a wonder you’ve held yourself strong for such a long time when he is so willing under your touch. Is it sinister to want this to continue? Knowing who he is, who they are.

“You are pretty,” the words leave your mouth without much thought. His body shudders at your words, leaning forward, head pressing into your stomach. His hands leave your thigh, wrapping around the curve of your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Am I?” His breaths hitch, yearning lining and enfolding itself around two simple words. You have yet to kiss him, to taste his mouth, and he is distressed for you. Touch on your skin, but it is not enough for him. His head tilts up, pupils covering his irises completely. “Am I pretty to you?”

He slowly rises, warm, trembling body moving closer and closer to you. His hands stay on your hips as he hovers over your body, chest rising and falling quickly. Your hands leave his face and cup his neck instead. You are not unaware of how his breath hitches as you hold him. He leans forward, lips lightly brushing against your chin.

“Am I?” There is a pause in his movements. His unwavering despair to have you is not unknown, but he pauses. As if waiting for your approval to move further. A bit humorous how now he is holding himself back when he is so close to having you. “I want you to say it to me, solaris. Tell me.”

“You’re pretty, Wooyoung.”

His lips waste little time in covering yours, tongue entering your mouth immediately. His lips tremble as he tastes you, hands moving to the back of the chair to hold himself steady. The freestanding furniture slides against the floor, hitting the wall behind it as he pushes himself closer and closer to you.

You are overcome with the feeling of not knowing him, of not knowing his touch, his desperate breaths mixing with yours, his teeth sinking into your lips, begging for reprieve. He almost swallows you whole with his eagerness, hands wrapping around your body, pulling you into him. His strength lifts you from the seat entirely, your legs wrapping around him as he presses you against the wall. He lets his lips leave yours, tongue tracing down the slide of your neck, moans loud. It is not surprising he is a vocal lover, and for a moment embarrassment settles within you at the thought of one of the others entering the home, hearing his voice echoing down the halls.

“I do not care,” he murmurs against your skin, “Let them listen to me worshiping you.”

You're unable to speak.

“Would it bother you? For them to hear me kiss you from your neck to your feet, everything in between? Is it so wrong for me to want my palms to burn beneath your touch?”

You laugh at the suggestion, “I am no God that you’d be burned by my touch.”

He smiles against your skin, “How is that possible if I pray to you each night? Do they not say to worship in the low light?” his lips press against the tips of your fingers, teeth dragging across the skin. “You should have heard my prayers, solaris. I am an extremely devoted servant to you.”

“Wooyoung,” Somewhere in between sacrilegious and obscene, his chest rises with laughter.

“For you alone I am weak, solaris. For you, I will crawl, I will beg,” his lips leave your fingers, “San is not the only Unseelie who is violently devoted to the brink of utter obsession, solaris. Can you not feel mine?” His tongue drags against the skin of your collarbone, your body trembling beneath the wet touch. His hands have never left your hips, nails digging into the skin. You are too involved to feel how they slightly puncture, his longing words distracting. “Can you feel how devout I am to you? How gloriously blessed I am to be touching your skin?”

His hands release you for the briefest of moments, wrapping around your torso as he moves away from the wall. The walls around you shift, your mind lost for a moment. You blink, only a moment to glance around and see that you're in fact, no longer in your room. That he pulled you through the thin threads of reality into his. Wooyoung is ever so impatient, letting your body fall against his bedsheets.

“I think I prayed enough,” he continues, staring down at you. “You might have finally heard me beg to see you like this. How lucky I am to be the one to see you like this,” he leans over, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “But I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay,” you say. The words come out with certainty you didn't know you possessed for him, breathless and accepting of anything he may suggest. His lips lift, but you see that it does not entirely reach his eyes. You lean up, and he sits back down on the floor. Looking up at you. Just as you're about to sit yourself next to him, his hand stops you, shaking his head.

“I need you to tell me what to do to you.”

“Tell you what to do?”

“I can't do it myself. I can't do anything to you myself.” The tone of his voice is strange now. It is as desperate as before, but there is something else between the words. You do not know him well enough to even guess what it may be, why he truly needs you to guide him. But his despair is apparent, the way his hands tremble as they begin to hold your thighs, tears coating the brim of his lids. It is merely a guess, but it feels like he can only move further with your exact words. Your precise permission.

It should not frighten you how much control, even if facetious, you have over him.

“Please solaris.”

“I have to?” You whisper, and he nods.

“It is as I have said. I follow your word.” His hold is lighter now as he waits. “I cannot indulge in your sweetness without permission.”

You grow weary as he continues his explanation.

“The corruption is not merely just a surface level. None of the Unseelie can, not without word from the other partner. Though we reign in chaos, we cannot do activities like this without explicit permission. I need you, I do. But I need you to need me too.” His touch is claw-like, fingertips tracing the marks upon your skin, lips tantalizing as they drag over your knee, breathes tickling the small hairs. “Do you need me?”

You have only been the sun to him. It is no wonder he is so vehement on you aching for him a tenth of how he craves you. You can see it in his eyes, the darkened gaze settling on you, the cage preventing him from moving further. The thought is comforting perhaps, though you'd never suggest that he'd do such a thing, but knowing that Unseelie are unable to force themselves upon someone. Nature is still balanced.

You are the sun to him, his solaris. What he is to you…

You have yet to figure out.

He nods at your question long forgotten, hands unmoving as you lean down. He holds his breath as you place your hand at the bottom of his chin, tilting his head up to entirely look at you. Submitting to you.

“I want you all over me, Wooyoung.”

His hands drag your legs forward, thighs spread apart. His body could crack a hole in the floor with how much he trembles in anticipation. His fingers change, nails lengthening. You watch in awe as they turn into claws, easily sliding through the material of your shorts, tossing it to the side.

“I've thought endlessly of how I would have you beneath me,” the words are barely let out as he pulls you closer to him, arousal dripping from his words. “Your lips desperately pleading for me, wanting me. How you would let me do anything to you.” His words are coated in lust, lips hovering over where you desire him most. “Can I taste you, y/n?”

“Please.”

His lips cover your clit, smacking together from the wetness that clings to them. Your fingers glide into his soft locks, tugging lightly as his tongue enters you. His moans into you are loud, the tug in your stomach tightening, worsening when you feel his fingers gripping your thighs, tongue finding your most sensitive point with ease.

You attempt to lift your head to see him, your gaze falling on his helmet of hair between your thighs, nestled. Soft whines spilled from your lips as you place your head back down on the sheets, the silk forcing your touch to only grip him. Your thighs tighten as you beg him for something you’re not sure of, his movements continuing until you tug a bit harder on his hair to pull him away. His shadow slides up your form, “I’m not just done with you, solaris.”

He lifts your head, pressing a light kiss just beneath your ear. “I haven’t had enough of you yet. You are godly, and yet I cannot help but sin,” his breath was hot as he exhales onto your skin, goosebumps left in his wake as he moves back to where he once was. His fingers tremble slightly against your skin, his hooded eyes resting on yours as he leaned back down, lips wrapped around your clit once more.

Wooyoung’s hand grips and tugs at your thigh. You blink once more, a field of clovers beneath the two of you. The evening sun is low in the sky, peeking through the trees, the sunlight leaving a streak across his cheeks, brown eyes lighter. He practically glows, eyes shining with need, tongue between his lips to softly flick over your bud. The pull in your cunt grows once more, stronger and stronger as his eyes flutter close. Leaves rustle, a warm breeze brushing against your skin.

“My solaris, how do I shine for you?” he whispers. The simple sentence along the return of his lips to your lower ones make your muscles grow tight, a soft moan vibrating up your throat once relief and warmth began rushing beneath your skin. Wooyoung holds you close as you tremble, lips still wrapped around you as you climax once more, unable to let your grip on his hair go, pressing him harshly into you.

His eyes are warm as they look up at you, your body covered with your shirt, chest rising and falling slowly. His lips are slow, peppering kisses along the inside of your thigh, “how are you? still with me?”

You swallow slowly, struggling to find yourself after what happened. A few seconds pass before you can speak, “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

He laughs, continuing the seemingly never-ending drag of his soft lips up her stomach, his fingers pushed under your shirt to glide it up. They’re soft, warm as your lift your hands away from his hair and up, allowing him to see all of you. The last person that’s seen you this vulnerable was Soobin, and before that… not many. His eyes are glazed over as he takes in your exposed chest, his index finger tickling your skin as he lightly moves around the flesh of your breast. “Just for me?” He leans forward, cheek pressed against the soft flesh, trembling. “You’re more than what I’ve ever imagined.”

“Wooyoung…” Your mouth is dry as you let his name leave your lips, the word coming out rougher than you intended it to. He groans, shaking his head slightly.

“I would never tire of hearing you say my name like that,” he murmurs. “It is a shame the others cannot hear since we are so far.”

You look around as he slips his fingers into one of your free hands. The field is small, likely near where Yeosang brings you every once in a while. The thought makes you wonder – he did say that no one knew of the place aside from Hongjoong and himself. How could Wooyoung know to bring you here?

“Your thoughts move elsewhere, are you alright?” His eyes are coated with concern, hand lifting to brush a thumb against your cheek. “We can stop if it’s too much for you.”

“No, no everything is fine.” It may be that Yeosang let this private place slip his tongue while speaking with him. And perhaps Wooyoung found it as beautiful as you did and decided to bring you here. You let those thoughts settle within you as he leans down, his lips pressing against your jaw. A hum vibrates against his lips, your moment of confusion slipping away once he lines himself up and pushes forward, just enough to have your eyes widening almost immediately. You expect the impact to at least ache, but it feels warm and soft and full.

“So warm, my solaris. Made just for me, yes?” His entrance is slow, his hand that cradles your face sliding to your shoulder. “I need to ask, solaris.”

He leans forward, lips pressing against your forehead as he pushes deeper. “We… I feed on life. On human life. And you are full of it, pretty. So so beautiful and holy and bright.”

His words make no sense, a question still not uttered. “What are you saying, Wooyoung?”

“Can I taste you?” His hands slide down to your waist as he finally fully enters. They glow a dark orange against your skin, his eyes on yours. “It would be just a small taste. It wouldn’t kill you. It will feel good, solaris. You will feel good.”

The question is still vague, but even with you clouded mind, you can pick through the mess of words. A low moan comes from you as he pulls out slightly, entering again. “You want to eat my soul?”

“A sliver, it will barely be missed.”

“…Okay.”

The fear disappears once his lips cover yours, tongue entering your mouth as his hips set a steady rhythm. “You’ll love it.” You begin to keen under him, feeling wave after wave of heat surrounding the two of you, the sound of birds above you chirping as he takes you. The ache entering through you from the pleasure his cock pressing in and out of you and the sensation of being beneath his torso. His fingers gripping your waist break skin, and then you see it. The orange light that you presumed was spilling through his fingers was not him, no. It is you, your aura surrounding the two of you. Wooyoung’s pace almost doubles at the sight, the smell woodsy and sweet. The mop of black hair seeps into a orange color as it swirls through the air, eyes matching. It is a sight to see between pleasure, you, yourself, seen in an unknown light. Just as he pulls away from your lips, your soul enters your skin again.

His brows furrow, but he does not comment on it, instead, lifting up onto his hands to find another angle, sighing in relief it once your knees were up at his sides, feet hooked around his waist. The question as to why he cannot feed on you lingers.

“Perhaps my sin is too much for a soul like yours,” he whispers, dropping his weight down onto his elbows, then further, arms wrapping around you. “I will enjoy you nonetheless.”

“What are you–”

His hips press harshly into yours just as you begin to speak, watching as your eyes roll back, lids fluttering. You’re not quick to notice a hot tear falling down your cheek, rolling down your temple, lost in the darkness as his cum seeping out of his tip slowly but surely began melting your senses into nothing. The sound of skin begins echoing in the air and trees, his knees sliding up to push his thighs against you, pressing him deeper. You slowly lose your sense of the world you, focused on his cock pressing into you, his arms around you as you writhe with each thrust.

“So pretty,” he murmurs. “You always shine brightly, solaris, and yet you shine even moreso. How am I to keep my hands off you now that I’ve finally had you?” The sound of his voice is lost in between the sounds of skin slapping, the way he rocked into her body.

“Then don’t,” you say.

His eyes widen briefly, the orange fading as they meet yours. You somehow find the strength to keep focused on him despite how intensely your climax is coming. It’s the first time you’re unable to read his expression, perhaps a tint of wonder if you could focus. After a few seconds your thighs tighten, gasps leaving your lips. “Wooyoung–”

“Just like that pretty, just for me.”

Your head falls back, straining to let out the moan that clawed its way up, vise forming around his cock until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hell,” he grits, hips stilling as he cums, stuttering with each succeeding one. Your breaths escape your lips, lids heavy as you feel his own lips press lightly against yours.

—

“It has been hours since they were together, and he has still not let her leave his room. Should she not eat?” Yunho murmurs. They can see how his annoyance has gathered around him, hand gripping the apple between his fingers tightly, brows furrowed enough to become one. He is right – neither you nor Wooyoung has left his room. Seonghwa and maybe San could break the barrier that he has placed around his resting place, but neither wants to. Only making Yunho grow more irritated.

“They were together, Yunho. Let them simmer in it before they're told the news,” San rubs his arm, presses a soft kiss against his temple. “It is soon to be ruined once they enter a shared space.”

“He’s not going to move on from this,” Hongjoong sighs, eyes closed as he tucks himself further into the couch cushions. “I’m not ready to hear him boasting everyday about something I don’t care about in the slightest. San you might have to whip up a spell to shut him up.”

“I doubt he’d say anything outlandish-”

“Good afternoon~” His warm voice echoes through the room as he enters, almost floating as he glides along the tiles to the fridge. He presses his lips against Yunho and San’s cheeks while he passes by, the ghost of his magic roaming over Hongjoong’s arm and squeezing it. “Lovely day.”

Hongjoong’s lip twitches, but he makes no move to respond to Wooyoung’s words, annoyance already riddling his features. Yunho glances at Wooyoung, watching as he sings a song, pulling ingredients from open drawers and cabinets. No one says a word in response aside from San, easily wrapping his arm around his waist and pressing a kiss to his mate’s temple.

“We haven’t seen you in almost a day.”

“Busy. And solaris is hungry, and I assume the rest of you are,” he places his utensils on the counter. “Ready for some human food?”

All of their faces wrinkle in disgust at his words, a chuckle draping his lips as he rolls his eyes. “It wouldn't hurt you to feed on things other than humans.”

“It tastes of chalk and sadness,” Yunho mumbles, watching as he coats the pan with butter. “And smells rancid.”

“Whatever, you're missing out on the joys in life. Sweets aren't the only thing that tingles the taste buds.”

“You would know,” San is barely heard as he bites on the apple slice, but it is audible enough for their joint laughter. “I'm surprised you haven't spilled your secrets yet. Not often do you keep your escapades to yourself.”

“I’m not going to brag, I would never kiss and tell.”

Yunho’s eyes narrow. “You do, in fact, kiss and tell. That’s all you do actually, I’m surprised you were even able to let that lie slip.”

Wooyoung sticks out his tongue, tapping the pepper into the pan. “Well not now. Solaris is too special for me to discuss things like that around you all. A star that glows like her demands privacy.”

“Did she threaten you?” Hongjoong snickers, peeking out a lid when he doesn’t hear an immediate response. “Oh? She did?”

He frowns. “Not necessarily. I would just like to keep it quiet. It's not just between us eight now, she’s different. Humans are more private. I don't want her uncomfortable.”

“Honorable,” Yunho notes. “Perhaps you have grown.”

“There’s barely a hundred years between us,” Wooyoung deadpans, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not as young as you think I am.”

—

“They were together.”

“Correct.”

“And you have no qualms with that?”

“They are not young and we are not responsible for their actions, Seonghwa. I don’t care what they do in their free time. You’re just upset that she wasn’t with you first as all. She likely would have if it weren’t for that disgusted look you give her every time you’re in a room together.”

“She’s not a commodity to be passed around, Hongjoong. I don’t care if she is with me first or not at all. All that I’m saying is, it’s irresponsible to ignore it.”

If Hongjoong’s eyes could roll further back they would. He closes his notebook slowly, looking up at Seonghwa. “What do you suppose we do, then? Place a chastity belt on Wooyoung, perhaps cuff him to his bed so that he cannot move near her? Ship him off to Yeonjun himself to deal with?”

“That is not what I’m saying at all. You treat this like it’s a joke,” Seonghwa frowns.

“What you’re suggesting is a joke. I’m not stopping either of them from indulging in one another. I didn’t expect Wooyoung to win her over so soon, but it was inevitable. You hid your suspicions from them, but even with it, it would only make it more enticing for him. He does not back down from a challenge. Especially one he is so obsessed with.”

“You told me to keep it to myself,” Seonghwa rubs his temple, breathing deeply. “I was going to tell them-”

“You still could have. You still can. What I said was a suggestion, nothing more.”

There is no use in arguing with him, Seonghwa thinks. Hongjoong knows what his suggestions are - oftentimes there are threats hidden beneath them. And though he loves him more than life itself, he cannot stand how nonchalant Hongjoong can be. Even if the human, you, does not know your true nature yourself.

“Fine.”

Hongjoong smirks, “That was much easier to deal with.”

“I will tell them tonight. All of them.”

Hongjoong’s smirk twitches. Seonghwa is not looking at him directly, so he does not see the slight dip in his expression, “You will?”

“As you said, it was merely a suggestion. Perhaps their minds will change once they all know of her true nature. And we can finally kill her.”

“You want her dead?”

Never. The thought forms bile in his mouth. “I’d rather not touch her at all. But what other choice do we have? She will kill us all if we let her stay. It is the best decision right now.” He found you, he tracked you down. If he killed you in the beginning despite the resistance to their powers, perhaps it would have saved him from the guilt that begins to riddle his body. He should not care for a creature like you, knowing it is what you do. And still, with knowing, he cannot stop it from happening. Which is why he needs to tell the rest of them.

“They won’t let you kill her. Most have already succumbed to her charm.”

“... I will do what I must to keep us safe.”

Hongjoong shrugs, “Then so be it. You have no objection from me. I’ve grown wary of her being around anyway. Humans are too… irritating.”

“Not a human.”

“Right. I won’t let the others know of my opinion and side with the majority.”

“Sometimes, they would like to hear what their leader thinks, Hongjoong.”

He pauses for a moment. “It will influence their decisions too much for me to say what I want.”

“And you think your thoughts do not influence mine?” Seonghwa asks, genuinely curious. Hongjoong laughs at the question, shaking his head.

“Seonghwa, I've known you for hundreds of years. You’d rather throw yourself in front of a deadly attack than take my opinion over your own. It is settled.”

��

You sit near the back of the room, Wooyoung’s presence wrapped around the headrest of the chair you occupy. No one else has approached you, though you sensed the lingering eyes of Yunho to the side of you. He gave you a smile when you entered, the slight downturn of his lips as he met Wooyoung’s gaze obvious. It did make you nervous that it was somehow your fault he looked furious. But the expression was gone with a blink.

“Mingi won’t be joining us, but he already informed me of his opinion prior to our meeting,” Hongjoong says, sliding past the rest and sitting in the loveseat farthest away from the entrance. His eyes bore into yours, oddly twinkling. “It will be kept in mind as we’re voting.”

“And what is it that we’re voting on?” Yunho asks.

“It has taken me a while to consider what has been going on the past few months, and how it affects all of us, including y/n,” Seonghwa does not meet your eyes as he speaks, staring at an unoccupied couch. “Our voting today is to decide if she lives or dies.”

Silence falls over the room. Your own chest tightens, palms growing moist as the seconds tick by. Kill you? Has what you’ve done destroyed their relationship with other faeries to the point of no return? Seonghwa’s reluctance to even be near you was not only for disgust like you thought before, but something deeper. Hongjoong wasn’t lying when he told you that they believed you to be not human. But you’re not hiding anything yourself. Being anything but human just feels impossible.

“You’re joking?” Wooyoung stands up from where he is behind you, slightly stepping forward. “She’s done nothing wrong.”

“She killed Beomgyu, Wooyoung.”

“So? I kill faeries and humans all the time! Why should that matter?”

“You know why,” San speaks this time, shaking his head. “It has caused us many problems. But Seonghwa, killing her? What use is that to us?”

Seonghwa sighs. “She is not entirely human, that’s why.”

Their gazes all meet yours from across the room. Even Wooyoung, his valiant effort to coax them into saving your life, expression drops slightly, confusion coating his gaze. As if questioning the validity of everything you’ve told him. Somehow that look makes you feel utterly guilty, despite not believing in his claim.

“I am a human,” you retort. “That, whatever happened at that time, it wasn’t… it was me, but it was a fluke. An adrenaline rush.”

“How can we assume she’s not human just because she killed a Seelie?” Yeosang asks. His expression remains neutral, potion book placed face-down on the counter. “Strength like that is not uncommon in humans.”

“Correct, but we all know that a human cannot tear apart a Seelie, especially the way Beomgyu was. His body was unrecognizable, torn to shreds. Someone with her size and strength, even with a burst of adrenaline could not take a Seelie down like that. She would have to know weaknesses, have weaponry-”

“It is unlike you to say allegations without undeniable truth,” Jongho interrupts him. “So I believe what you’re saying, hyung. What is she, if not a human?”

It’s interesting how despite being in the same room with them, they all ignore your presence entirely, speaking amongst themselves. Likely because you can lie with ease and without restraint. They won’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth, anyway, except maybe Yunho or Wooyoung.

“Now this may bother you all. But there is no other explanation. She is a kumiho.”

“That’s impossible-”

“It isn’t,” Seonghwa interrupts Wooyoung before he begins, holding up a hand. “We are real, so it is not too far gone to believe in something that was once unreal to us. There are still beings out there that we do not know of. Her strength, the claw marks on the dead Seelie. She has not turned on the full moon and her blood does not contain any sort of wolf characteristics. Kumiho can blend amongst humans the easiest after they have lived over a thousand years. It is not unrealistic to assume that she has moved past that point and become a human woman.”

“She hasn’t even attempted to lure any of us.” Wooyoung narrows his eyes. “Nor has she eaten human flesh.”

“That we know of.”

You can only scoff, shaking your head. “This is unreal.”

“There is no other explanation. Your strength is formidable to our own. Likely, the feline creature hiding inside this human appearance in front of us has prevented itself from remembering what it was. For protection or otherwise - we have yet to find out.”

Wooyoung’s gaze wavers the longer he listens to Seonghwa’s explanation. In fact, it seems that each of them believes everything that comes from his mouth. But it is impossible. What would be the reason for hiding your true being from yourself?

“Now we vote, then,” Hongjoong starts. “Mingi has voted yes to kill her. Seonghwa?”

“It is what needs to be done, yes,” Seonghwa agrees.

“Yunho?” Hongjoong asks, turning to him.

His gaze is on the floor, thinking. After a few seconds passed, “No. I don’t think she’s a threat to us. We keep her alive.”

Hongjoong looks at Yeosang.

Yeosang ponders the thought as everyone discusses loudly amongst one another. His eyes meet yours across the room, just being Wooyoung as he seemingly protects you with his body. You look afraid. Your eyes move to each person as they speak, your nerves palpable enough to be tasted in the thickened air. If he himself agrees to your death, it is likely that San would agree. Neither of them truly differ in opinion on things like this. Jongho would soon follow out of mere respect. And you would be killed promptly. It is what he has wanted since you’ve arrived here, turning everything sideways. So why, as he looks at your pathetic cowering behind Wooyoung, why does he feel such pity for you?

He looks at Wooyoung again. Though his fascination with you is beyond his capability of understanding, he can see it. How his eyes look at his spark desperately, pleading with them to save you. How Yunho’s jaw clenches, quietly observing. He wanted you here, wanted you protected by them. Though you aren’t exactly the pitiful human he once thought you to be, he still cares for you, strangely.

“Well, what do you want to do?” San whispers into his neck. Useless, since they all can hear what he’s saying aside from you. “Kill her?”

His next words will change everything. Yeosang meets your eyes across the room. His own widen slightly at your expression, flicking down to read your lips. The words mouthed to him are enough for him to decide.

Please help me.

“There’s no reason to kill her if she does not hold any threats to us right now.”

Seonghwa whips his head to Yeosang. Anger expressed along the vein on his neck, the set of his brows. He will not say it outright, but Yeosang has just betrayed his trust. Perhaps Seonghwa thought he would allow the woman to be killed just because … well, because he wanted it. But he cannot now, not when things are turning out so interesting.

“You are sure of this?” Hongjoong asks. His eyes sparkle. “Truly?” Despite only being the fourth oldest, his words hold weight for the rest.

“I am,” Yeosang says simply. The tense gaze of your expression has not dropped. Probably because you don’t realize that San would follow his lead, then Jongho. Your hand wraps around Wooyoung’s arm that traps you behind him. “If need be in the future with reason, sure. But now, no.”

“This is a mistake-” Seonghwa begins, stopping once Hongjoong flicks his finger. His mouth is shut in an instant, the feeling of magic swirling through the air.

“Hasn’t he spoken enough tonight? There are three remaining votes. As always, I will side with the majority. San, you’re next.”

“No need to kill her,” San agrees. Hongjoong’s smile grows louder, eyes flicking to Wooyoung.

“Your answer is obvious, but please Wooyoung, give your vote.”

Wooyoung covers your body almost completely as he speaks. “Of course, I will not kill her.”

“What does our youngest think?”

“I enjoy her being around, I can’t imagine her not being here,” Jongho smiles at you from across the room. “She can stay.”

“Well, as with the majority, y/n’s life is spared. Apologies to Seonghwa and Mingi, but as you know, it has now been decided. Take all the time you need to process this.” He flicks his finger again toward Seonghwa. The room expects him to roar his complaints, but he only looks around, tiredness seemingly flowing off of him.

“I trust you all and always have. And I assumed that you trust my words as well. But as Hongjoong has said, majority rules. I hope that you all keep an eye on her, and make sure that with the slightest change in behavior, monitor it. It can come at any time since she cannot control it herself,” Seonghwa looks at you, eyes meeting. “And I hope, y/n, you listen to my words yourself. Leave if you feel the change happening.”

He leaves the room, Hongjoong disappearing from his spot, likely following Seonghwa close behind along with Yunho. Leaving the rest of you alone.

Wooyoung’s body seeps into your figure the way he embraces you so tightly, lips pressing against your temple lightly. “I’ll be back, pretty.” His touch disappears as well. Jongho glances at you sympathetically, eyes glazing over yours for a moment before he too, blinks away. The instantaneous disappearing bodies is not something you’d ever get used to.

It does not distract you enough from what Seonghwa said, though. You are not human, despite how you’ve lived, how much you have insisted. A kumiho? As he further explained it, it still made entirely no sense to you. You’ve lived your life plainly, rarely if ever dated once in a while. Soobin was your second official relationship, the first lasting no more than a couple of years. The way he looked with such disgust as he explained it, how your age superseded everyone’s in the room. How your true nature was hidden from even yourself - it is impossible to think of.

“It is interesting to look at you, knowing what you are,” San says, looking around Yeosang to peer at you. “Do you have the urge to bite me?”

“I don’t feel anything, San,” exasperation coats your words. “I don’t even believe it myself.”

“Seonghwa is rarely wrong,” Yeosang murmurs. “That is why we take his word as the truth. Since you are kumiho, your training with Mingi will be much different now. Likely more intense.”

Your arms ache at the thought. You have yet to see Mingi yourself, but the training from before was strenuous. You look at Yeosang, remembering he expression on his face as he peered over at you, the tired eyes filled with curiosity as he voted to keep you alive. You are grateful, nonetheless. But the question lingers the longer you look at him.

“Do you want me dead?”

Yeosang pauses at the inquiry, straw resting between his lips. Eyes flicking to yours. There is little to decipher when it comes to him since he rarely tells what he may be thinking, and you're not with him often. But something in the way he looks at you. He does not respond right away – an indication that he may twist his words to satisfy your question.

“In the beginning I thought it'd be best to get rid of you before it escalated. Even more recently, I thought the same. But now I am not so sure,” he places his drink on the counter. “Most of us do enjoy having you around, human or not. Though I am not as enthused as Yunho or Wooyoung with your presence, I no longer hate it. So I have grown to tolerate it. Until I cannot.”

“You will kill me?”

His smile is strange, hollow. “If I must. Your life isn't that important. Or I'll wait until it has run out itself. You may only have a few more decades left, anyway. They will get over it – their fixation will move to something more interesting eventually.”

How casually he talks about your life. Like it is nothing. He does consider it as nothing, as he has said. None of the Unseelie is this house told you do directly as he has done. You should feel a bit wary around him now, knowing he could change his mind in seconds and kill you. Even now, as he reads the spellbook resting on his thighs, he could kill you. And San, sitting nearby, would only help.

So feeling comforted at the thought is unusual.

“Thank you for being honest,” you say, and he snickers. “Not much of that going around here.”

“Sure.”

San leaves a bit after that. The silence echoes around the small room, eyes moving to the doorway at the sound of the door clicking open. The sight nearly startles you, seeing him for the first time in months. Mingi is followed closely by Yunho, bodies brushing against one another as they enter. Yeosang takes that as a sign to leave you, closing his spellbook and gracefully hopping off the chair. His fingers drag across Mingi's arm as he leaves.

“Oddly quiet around here,” he notes, opening the fridge. Yunho sits where Yeosang just was, smiling at you. “Have you been getting along well despite today?” He asks, thanking Mingi as he passes him an apple. “Wooyoung said you've been making progress adjusting, but I rarely take his word for it.”

“It's been better now,” you say. “It's not one hundred percent yet, but I am getting used to being around here. I hope it just ends soon.”

“I heard your life was spared. It should make you happy. Ah,” he snaps his fingers. “They haven't told you yet,” Mingi sits on the opposite side of you. “We will have to leave soon.”

“We?”

“Half of us. Yunho, Wooyoung, Hongjoong, and myself. Seelie requested our presence. We would have all went, but with these circumstances, it may be best to leave half of us here.”

Circumstances meaning you. Mingi does not further explain and you do not insist on him doing so, instead sinking further into the chair you rest on. “So I am left with the rest of you.”

“Left is a strong word,” Yunho mumbles into his cup. “More like babysat.”

Your frown deepens, and he laughs. “It is but a joke. You can take care of yourself. They won’t do anything to you while we’re gone. Yeosang and San will likely stay to themselves now that Seonghwa has relieved him of his duty to watch you. Jongho will be entertaining enough, no?”

“She is older than us all, no need to treat her as a faerling,” Mingi murmurs.

“She thinks she’s almost three decades old, Mingi.”

“Time to see reality.”

They banter back and forth about you, clueless as to how you’ve already left, steps quiet as you make it to your own bedroom. Seonghwa’s words, no matter how convincing, is not something you believe to be true. He says you conjured up this false reality of your life to blend into the human world, but it makes no sense to you. Nothing, none of it does. You remember your parents, you remember your family life. How you so easily deluded yourself into thinking that it was real when it’s not is beyond your comprehension. Likely because you don’t believe it at all. Why would you hide it from yourself? There is no reason to block your own mind from it - even if you are as he says you are. Jumping to such a conclusion is ridiculous.

No. You’re not a kumiho.

You enter your room, shutting the door behind and locking it. Surely Seonghwa can easily create a spell to allow the others into your room, but he won’t. Not if he so vehemently believes that you’re a creature that he didn’t even think was real. You settle yourself into your sheets, ignoring the lingering feeling in your mind that he might be right.

#fic: wonderwall #ateez x reader #ot8 x reader #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang x reader #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #jongho x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #san x reader #ateez fics #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez fluff

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writella · 1 year

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Go to Sleep

Synopsis: Daryl and the reader explore a new way of trying to help you get to sleep.

Details: Smut, 18+, soft-dom!Daryl, afab!reader, tiny bit of mean Daryl but not really, tiny bit of somnophilia but in the end it isn’t really either, Daryl reveals a little of his praise kink, thigh riding, oral (reader receiving), brief descriptions of anxiety, but ends sweetly. wc: 2.8k.

You hate the feeling of having your eyes closed but being so, desperately awake. It feels like a frustrating loop of constantly thinking about the thing you should be doing, the peace you should be feeling, but you simply, just, can’t.

It’s not like when you’re sitting out in the woods, the sun so nice and bright as you rest upon a tree, or when you’re on a ride with Daryl and you close your eyes, resting on his shoulder as the wind hits your face. It doesn’t feel warm and safe; it feels like a dark, void space, and you’re running endlessly to nowhere.

This is how it was, you had been having terrible sleep for weeks now. You felt it in your throat and in your chest whenever— and it was every time— that you woke up with your heart pounding in the middle of the night. You felt your heart beating without even touching your body, and it made you want to throw up.

This is why Daryl had slept with you for the past two weeks, hoping to ease your thoughts.

What you and Daryl had remained undefined at this point. He was loyal and cared for you deeply, but he was also independent and enjoyed doing things at his own pace— initiating wasn’t his strong suit.

This is also why, just the other night nearing twelve am, you had to beg Daryl to take you around the Alexandria houses for a fourth time on his bike before allowing him to leave you on your doorstep. This is where you admitted what was going on, “Please,” you asked sadly, “When I’m alone… I just- I just start thinking too much. I can’t sleep.”

So of course, he took you around again. He didn’t even say anything, just grabbed one of your hands tighter around him, starting to ride slowly. Firstly because he wasn’t trying to wake anyone up, and secondly because he was trying to make it last longer for you. He went around five more times.

Every time you saw your home approaching again your eyes dropped knowing what was coming until he just kept going. But after the fifth time, just when you hoped maybe this was a dream where you could just go around in peaceful circles all night with Daryl, he stopped. He had to sleep too.

He stood between his bike then, waiting for you to get your door, but you moved at a deafeningly slow pace. You hated the darkness that was beginning to weigh behind your eyes. You hated the night now and you hated it even more when you weren’t with him. So, as you hit the top step, you turned back around, running up to him.

Your eyes were meek when you paused before making your final request, “Daryl… please, will you stay with me?”

And that did it: as if you already hadn’t made him go around the neighborhood almost 10 times, those were the words that hit him at the bottom of his heart the most. Neither of you were ever as forward as you were being that night and he couldn’t say no. You told him that you needed him.

The first night was a success, in fact. You happened to fall asleep quite quickly as his strong arms held you down, grounding you in safety. Though as the days trailed on, it seemed that wasn’t exactly enough anymore. Your intrusive thoughts always found a way of sneaking in through Daryl’s stronghold.

Tonight was a night like that. Your eyes were closed, but your mind was very much awake.

You had initially gone to sleep on your side— you both were. Daryl’s face was almost touching yours.

He wasn’t much of a talker all the time, but the typical method that had been working other than laying on his chest was asking him about his day, what things he might have gathered from any trips outside, or seeing if, and it was only on rare occasions, he would tell you a story from his past.

There weren’t many fond memories, but he would always find something: maybe about one of his first hunting trips, or some hijinks he and his brother got into before he ditched when Daryl was a kid… but he didn’t like casually talking about his brother. He’d keep those short for now. You waited patiently for them to get longer. Either way, the stories always helped you get to that initial sleep, so he’d make sure to find one to tell if it made you feel better.

But now you were still awake and Daryl was seemingly asleep. You knew he could probably tell you were turning and shifting at some points, but you didn’t want to truly wake him up yet. It felt greedy after he was being so giving. And it was so rare to see him so peaceful. His eyes were usually elusive and stern. You might have started to know him more than others, but still, it wasn’t all the time that you could tell what was in his head. He was always guarded, especially between the mouth and eyes, but when he was asleep, his face relaxed.

Though the insomnia was killing you, it was nice to see him like this— he was just so handsome. His hair, his lips, his arms— you were obsessed with every shirt he ruined by cutting the sleeve— his abdomen, you almost grazed his lower stomach with your finger tips, thinking about if and how much you would love his-

Then a thought came up.

Probably worse than waking him up even though that would do it regardless, but you moved mindlessly before really thinking about it.

Your legs slid forward, slotting Daryl’s top leg that perched forward, knee almost touching your leg, in the middle of your own two.

Your legs move up a bit and you brush yourself against his thigh once, the movement is so small, then twice, the slight friction feels good, your eyes finally close again, but then you stop. What were you doing? Your head turns face first into the bed and stays there for a moment, quietly letting out your frustration into the sheet.

“You gonna move or what?” It comes out as a grumble and it makes you jut.

You’ve been caught.

“You ain’t slick,” his eyes are still closed, “but go on.” He takes his top leg out from between you and places it better, from the awkwardness ‘trying’ to not wake him up angle you had it at before.

You hold his top shoulder and he holds you right by the waist and you begin to rock. Daryl starts to flex his quad up into you as you grind down onto him. Your wetness finally seeping up so that your lips open a little as they push and rock against him. You can now feel your clit getting more attention from the hard pressure his thigh causes against you.

Daryl opens his eyes for a moment, yours are closed. Face twisted and eyes scrunched as you let out short breaths. You were invested in getting yourself off, you grinded down faster, his hands on your hips now were loose allowing you to go as hard as you pleased, for a minute, then another, and then another until he stopped you.

He pushed his hands and fingertips hard into your hips, deciding he wanted to control the pace. He pushed you into him slow and deep and despite it feeling good, you wanted to go fast, to stop thinking. It made you whine, complainingly as you came down from the high you felt you could have reached. “But Daryl-”

“Shut up.” It sounded like a quiet bark.

You were getting him riled up, yes, but it was also a full moon tonight and Daryl would rather be sleeping on the hard rock ground under the stars than in a bed, only being able to stare at the sky from a window. Even though he knew you had been feeling anxious about something for a while, and he wanted to make you feel okay, he can’t lie, your sleep not improving was starting to get on his nerves a bit. And especially so tonight when your restlessness kept him up the whole time, despite you not knowing.

He allowed you to keep riding him at his pace for a moment until he got a new idea: he pushed your leg off and you gave an exasperated sighed, frustrated at the feeling of nothingness. “Shh,” was all he whispered, it came out sharp.

“Daryl, let’s just-”

“Stop.” He took you by the face when he said it, squeezing your jaw roughly. “Don’t talk.”

He lays you on your back and takes off your pants you were sleeping with, they’re ruined, and you weren’t wearing any underwear after your shower. The blanket is pushed to his side of the bed now as he goes downward, spreading your legs, not too wide but just enough for him to get in between. Holding your thighs, his thumbs kneading the skin on the inner side. He licks the outside of your hole, almost slurping in your wetness as he does it just so he could move it up your pussy toward your clit and sucks in again. He lays his tongue flat and presses back down again, repeating the motion, making you even more wet, everywhere.

Your upper back moved forward, your elbows and forearms propped up so you could watch. This felt better than before, even with his slower movements, he felt so good there so instantly that you couldn’t help yourself but staying up to look, but after he sees you he stops.

Silently, Daryl pushes your shoulders back into the bed, you can’t tell if he was only accidentally being rough. He pushes your pillow up only slightly against the headboard, just enough so your head wasn’t completely propped up, but just so if you wanted to move your head to the side you could still look if you wanted to when you realized you could. “Stay,” then begrudgedy he adds, “and close your eyes.”

Daryl went down again, making his pace slower than before: His lips and tongue sucked in your clit again, it coming into his mouth as much as the little thing could and he repeats it again until he had peppered you there with slobbery kisses and then he moved to one side of your labia, his lips slotting themselves above and under that one side as his tongue goes out and in, kissing you deeply. The man was literally making out with your pussy.

Just as he would with your mouth, his head turned and leaned into it, pushing his tongue in and pressing against you, his lips in between one of your own down there as he did so. He went in the middle of you again, his nose rubbing against your clit a few times as his tongue went lower, sucking in more of your wetness again. His nose brushing against you made you shudder.

Your eyes were still closed, but they scrunched even harder now and your head started shaking side to side. You have never felt him down there being so intentional, deliberate, and intense. Something so surprisingly romantic, but still so fucking dirty and sexy. He has pushed your wetness everywhere. You felt like a dripping mess and more than half of his face was all coated in it and it just felt so good.

He moved to the other side of your pussy now, giving it the same attention as he did the first. Making out with you down there as if he could do it forever. So slow, but it felt so warm and deep.

You felt him suck you in and swallow some of your wetness. He hummed into you as he did it, a raspy “mmmm” melted into you and it made you moan, the sound coming from you instantaneously because of the vibration you felt down there from his voice. You covered your mouth, your house was quiet and you didn’t want to wake anyone up but the more he continued, the harder it was becoming.

Now, his lip suctioned your pussy lip in between his and he slid down, tongue trailing the inner side until he was able to slot his tongue inside your hole, staying there and still kissing you. Moving his tongue in and out now, still slowly, feeling every bit as he moved.

Your quiet pants were continuous, but you were trying hard to hold in your noises. Not wanting to wake up anybody else you lived with, but also not knowing if Daryl would stop again if you spoke too much.

To your misfortune, he stopped anyway. Your eyes open and push your head to the side of your pillow so you can look down at him. Your mouth was open, but you made sure not to complain.

His chin almost rested on your mound, he was already looking up. “Does it feel good?” You couldn’t read his eyes, but his voice was surprisingly tender and questioning.

You assured him immediately, “yes,” you whispered giggling. You brush his hair with your fingers, undoing some tangles. You got lost in his eyes for a moment before he went down again.

“Tell me,” he says, it almost sounds muffled as he sucks you in until he takes a breath to say more clearly, “I wanna hear you now.”

“Don’t wanna get to loud,” you’re breathless.

He licks you off his lips, looking you in the eye, “so don’t.”

Daryl starts going faster now, breathing you in and humming, knowing you can feel the vibrations, jerk. “Mmm, Daryl, please.” You start to pant again, still too scared you might let yourself go too far.

His fingers spread wide, splaying over to your lower stomach, pushing down until he reaches your tit and circling your nipples. His other hand joins him, it makes you inhale sharply. With that and the way he circled your hole, trying to get his tongue to go in and press as much as he could, it caused you to jerk up, taking one of his hands in your own, squeezing it. Your other hand went to his hair. His fingers weren’t even inside of you, but his hands felt so big no matter where he touched you and his tongue felt incredible, you didn’t know how he did it and it made you start to loose it, “ah- Daryl-”

“You like that?” He pushed you hand off his head and he took his free hand to finger your clit and he went back to sucking and making out with you toward your center. It all makes you nod your head, shaking quickly.

“Say it.”

“I like it,” it came out as a whispered shriek. “I like it, I like it,” you were breathless, “Daryl you feel so good.” You were holding on as hard as you could, but it wasn’t working. Your thighs came to close in on his face but he pushed his hands into your inner legs opening them even further and he kept going down, his nose pressing into you.

His mouth moved up again making out with your clit and lips on top and two of his fingers went into your hole.

You held onto his other hand again and squeezed and he thrusted his fingers into you hard and fast, he wanted to make you reach the end now.

“Oh- Daryl- oh my god,” you were coming out pathetically now as his fingers started to curl into you, and he added another.

Suddenly, you felt it. Right at the bottom of your stomach, the spark, the indescribable electricity as he kept humming into you on top and jamming into you at the bottom. All you heard was the squelch of you and his fingers and tongue lapping and lapping until you let out as much of a suppressed moan as you could release as you came.

Your eyes finally relaxed as you settled down and Daryl sat up on the bed, watching your breathing slow.

He stayed there for a moment, looking at how the night’s light shined on you from the window.

You had pulled the blanket over your legs again but he pulled it off. You didn’t know exactly what he was doing but your eyes were still closed. You were tired and sexed out now, you couldn’t get yourself to open them or ask questions, and it wasn’t a particularly cold night anyway and you still had his shirt on. You let it be, your mind finally drifting until you heard quiet footsteps travel down stairs, until they quickly ascended again.

Daryl took you by the upper back and under your knees, picking you up. With no words he took you to the front porch, gently laid you on the blanket, the side closest to the door. He laid himself on the opposite, closest to the sky.

You’re curled into his chest, you almost looked like a kitten, arm over him, fist curling into your chin contentedly, eyes closed and so peaceful, but you still kept nestling.

“Go to sleep,” he insisted softly. His hand went into your hair, lulling you further into your trance. This time it worked. He did everything right and now the trick was paying off, you couldn’t help but fall closer and closer into your slumber.

Daryl turned to his left to look at the moon, its gentle gleam finally coaxing him into his own sleep as well.

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd smut #the walking dead smut

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doki-doki-imagines · 9 months

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Power of a hug feat mk1 Johnny Cage, Bi-Han, Kenshi Takahashi author note:as my fave memer said "the wettest and most humid kiss is nothing in comparison to the power of an hug". There are other characters that I have in mind with this prompt so I hope the post will go well lol.

tw: Kenshi part is suggestive.

You are used to being alone, you have been for most of your years, and you are sure Johnny would never describe you as clingy. You give him his space, he gives you yours, nice and comfortable. That’s why when he told you about this expedition that was going to take him a long time and far away, you didn’t budge, just kissed him goodbye and told him to come back in one piece.

Okay, the departure wasn’t so blunt, and maybe there weren’t just kisses and maybe you were sobbing while telling him to be safe because you knew that Johnny wasn’t going out for a movie, but this is the gist of it.

And now you are sitting on Johnny’s armchair, wearing his favorite cover, the one dripping off his perfume, reading, trying to get your mind elsewhere while your heart silently shouts in pain, while your brain screams at it to shut up, because you are strong and even if you haven’t heard him for 2 months you shouldn’t miss him so much, because you are independent and yadda yadda; you miss him so much you’d curl up in a hole and get moldy there.

You sit there, ‘till you recognize a familiar sound, “is that Liu Kang voice?” you think, already standing up. There are other voices outside the house, but soon they all fade when you hear one in particular.

It’s Johnny’s one.

You’d like to stay in, wait for him inside nonchalantly walking towards him to greet your boyfriend as elegantly as you can muster.

Outside is snowing and you are wearing shorts (made of wool, but still shorts) and slippers but your mind simply doesn’t work, heart beating freely, pumping blood with new vigor.

“Johnny!” You open the door, freezing air hitting your body with full force, but you feel nothing.

Your legs run toward your boyfriend before your mind perceives your action. He turns around at your voice, and he is so beautiful your legs almost give up…almost.

“Oh-“ You jump in his arms, knocking him a few steps behind, not noticing all the gifts he had to throw on the ground to take you. You sigh in his arms, his strong arms now enveloping your shivering body “Kitty, are you shivering because you missed me?” He jokingly says,

“Yeah, it’s because I missed you so much.” Your voice breaks, your arms around his neck, legs gripping his waist as tightly as you can.

His hands slid on your thighs, thumbs drawing hearts on your skin, no goose-bumps, he is so warm and you are so full of love that you can’t feel anything else anymore.

Your foreheads kiss, breaths mingling, smiles stuck on both of your faces, warm brown eyes locked into yours.

His friends are long gone, leaving the two lovebirds alone.

He had to leave you there, in a snowstorm in the hands of the enemies, alone. You always have a plan, they always work out that’s why he trusts you so much even if you are a total dumbass.

“Go Bi-Han, don’t worry for me.” Your voice was trembling, you knew that you couldn’t survive and you also knew that he needed to return home alive.

And he follows your order because you are always right and things always go your way. Even when you are against him. Even when you tease him making his ears flush red. You always come up victorius.

Bi-Han stops on his track, snow falling on his shoulders. He can’t breathe. He hates you.

He’d like to sit there and let snow bury him. He can’t, he is Lin Kuei grandmaster whose willpower never waver, and who is headstrong like nobody else. Bi-Han has seen dear ones die in front of his eyes, betray him, this time mustn’t be any different.

Bi-Han feels like crying. You aren’t a fighter, but he wanted to bring you with him because nobody could outsmart you, and your brain was needed for this mission.

What an idiot. He tightens his fists, eyes closed so tight that wrinkles appear at the corners, no punishment would be enough for his mistake, never enough whips, never enough slaps.

He stays there a few more minutes, he couldn’t go back home, not ‘till he won’t be sure tears wouldn’t spill from his eyes.

Then he hears a voice, more like a whine, but it’s something he has heard many times before. Bi-Han starts to run towards the voice, walking much harder with so much snow.

“Told you-“ You are there, sitting on the snow, trembling like a newborn kitty, eyes shining, and with that shit-eating grin of yours “my plans never fail!” He crouches down towards you, he must be going crazy, his index and middle fingers pinch your cheek.

“Ouch! Why did you do that?” You are there, real, talking to him like you didn’t say goodbye to him a few minutes prior. He sits next to you, onyx eyes wide.

“You are alive” He is able to say, voice hoarse as always, mask reducing the sound to a mere whisper.

“Yeah, I would have never let anyone take my life, they have to get in line you know? Since you were the first one to promise me you were going to-“

Bi-Han doesn’t let you finish the phrase, his arms hugging your torso so close and so strongly against his body that he knocks air out of your lungs.

“I was so worried.” His right hand grips the back of your head, holding it in the nook of his neck. His voice trembles and he feels you stilling in his arms. He can feel your warm breath on his neck, your chest rising up and down at each breath you take; you are alive.

He almost lost you.

You free your head from his grip, thin ice on your hair like a veil made by his unrestrained magic, your hands now slowly removing his mask, showing you his trembling lips, you look at his eyes, he knows they are watery, his vision is foggy. Then your delicate fingers grip the collar of his uniform, your lips pressing for the first time against his.

It is a short moment, Bi-Han closes his eyes, and when he opens them your lips aren’t there anymore, but he still feels something warm; your arms reciprocating the hug.

It is suffocating but at the same time makes him feel alive, a warmth that envelops him entirely, that makes his heart run like a wild horse, but that puts his mind at ease; he is safe, you are too in his arms.

He couldn’t ask for more.

“K-Kenshi-“ You gasp, your hips grinding onto his, his tattoed hands running from your chest to your tummy, never resting, never letting you go.

He missed you. Kenshi missed you terribly. It wasn’t just sex, as good as it is, he missed your voice, your hands in his ones, your gentle lips on his cheeks. He missed hearing you talking about your day, about that terrible co-worker. He missed hearing your laughter and your hands massaging his scalp when he felt particularly stressed.

A moan dies in his throat after a delicious roll of your hips. Yeah, he missed this too.

You are close he can feel it and he is not far behind, but there is still something he desperately needs to do.

He lifts up, sitting now, his arms around your waist, hands on your lower back, both guiding your movements and keeping you close to his chest.

“I missed you so much-“ A whimper leaves his mouth, he can feel your lips so close to his, your breath labored, your body so close creates a delicious friction that just makes his mind fog even more.

“Me too, me too-“ You hug him back, your arms tight against his back, nails scratching his back while he helps you both reach completion.

You keep each other close, breaths still heavy, bodies sweaty.

“I missed you so much.” You are the first one to break the silence, Kenshi notices a hint of sadness.

Hint that became something more when the hand caressing your cheek meets a tear. The pang he feels in his heart hurts so much, but he also knows it is deserved.

“Me too honey, me too.” His right hand massages the back of your head, while the other traces heart-shaped patterns on your back.

Kenshi doesn’t let go, now laying on your shared bed, you on top of him. He can’t see your face, but losing sight made him more sensible, noticing every gasp leaving your lips, every twitch of your muscles.

He restrains himself, he can’t cry, but every gasp that leaves your lips is like a stab in his chest, each tear pulling your body closer, your hearts beating in synchronized sorrow.

But Kenshi can’t tell you that next time it will be different. He can’t reassure you that he will be safe.

He keeps you close to his chest ‘till he feels your breath slowing down, now stable. Kenshi keeps caressing your back, feeling his muscles relax, exhaustion washing over him too.

Kenshi soon falls asleep, wishing to still have you in his arms when he’ll regain consciousness the next morning.

#mortal kombat x reader #mk1 x reader #johnny cage x reader #bi han x reader #sub zero x reader #kenshi takahashi x reader #johnny cage #bi han #kenshi takahashi #mortal kombat imagine #mk1 imagine #mortal kombat x you #mk1 x you

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morganski-19 · 3 months

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Chills Right to the Marrow Part 20

part 1, prev part

Wayne’s not so sure how he can do this anymore. The bills are piling on themselves and it’s getting to the point where it’s challenging Everest. It was stupid to check the cost of his stay at the motel. It was stupid of him to be driving his car this much when he can just walk to the hospital each day. It’s only a little way down the road. It could have kept him from filling up his gas tank for another week.

It was stupid for him to do a lot of things, but here he is. Sitting in front of his notebook and splitting his paychecks up into pieces. Taking more out than he should to pay off the motel a little so the bill goes down. Knowing that he can always have a payment plan with the hospital. Take a loan out or something.

All because a house he’d always dreamed of moving into opened up. All because he, stupidly, wondered if he could make just enough to afford the down payment. The mortgage. And he probably could of, if he had somewhere to couch hop instead of paying for this room. If he asked for just a little bit of help. He could have stretched it just thin enough.

There were grants he could have applied to. People willing to donate money to those in need after the earthquake. Anything to give himself a raft to float on. But Wayne’s always been stubborn enough to try and build one on his own. Know he’s drowning because of it.

He does the thing he always did when needing to forget about the world. Burn through a few cigarettes and wish they were cans of beer. Maybe something a little stronger. Question the viability of his vices and his reliance on them to forget. All while trying to remember the point of all of this to begin with.

When the last one in the pack hits the stub, he crushes it into the ash tray. Trying to hold back the damn from breaking. To keep his tears where they need to stay. Inside with his fears. Even if he’s alone, in a room he’s struggling to afford. Even if he could really, truly break in the comfort of solitude.

And if he did, no one needed to know.

All he wanted was a home for Eddie to walk into after the hospital. A room that looked like his back in the trailer with band posters and books pooling of the shelves. Random little figurines and Knick knacks that were so priceless with meaning, but worthless other wise. The acoustic that Wayne saved up to buy, and the electric that Eddie took up dealing just to be able to think about affording.

All he wanted was to be a good father to his kid. To provide the most basic necessity. A safe home with food on the table. A space where Eddie could escape his problems and just be himself. Wayne couldn’t even provide that right now.

His boy was struggling to find himself again, while Wayne’s struggling to stand on two solid feet. He needed the home just as much as he wanted to provide it.

The next day, Wayne pulls himself to the hospital even though he just wants to sleep. Wants to listen to the pull in his back to just give himself the rest he needs. Knowing that he’s going to haul himself off to work and try to get in some overtime.

But here he is, sitting in the hospital room watching Eddie sleep. Just like he has been. The same damned cycle that doesn’t seem to end. Only improving slightly to provide a false sense of security.

It’s starting to get really predictable.

The seat next to him fills, Steve sitting next to him. “Hey. How’re you doing?”

Wayne doesn’t have the energy to lie or tell the truth. So he just shrugs. Steve huffs in agreement.

“Yeah, that tracks.”

They in silence until Wayne asks a question burning on his tongue. “How does it feel to look at a bill and know you can just pay it? Without having to take away from something else?”

“It doesn’t feel like anything,” Steve responds after pausing to think.

“That must be nice.”

“It was.”

Was. Wayne takes surprise to that. “I wouldn’t expect you to have to worry about stuff like that.”

A pained smile finds its way to Steve’s face. “There’s a lot of things you wouldn’t expect about me.”

Wayne doesn’t say anything, trying to give Steve the space should he decide to share more. A few weeks ago, Wayne would have probably lashed out at him. Thought that he was just looking for pity from someone who had nothing left to give. But he’s been more willing to listen. To see beyond his assumptions.

To let someone, he wouldn’t initially think of, let him know that this isn’t a problem only he deals with.

But instead, Steve goes back to silence. When he does speak again, it’s to pull the conversation back to Wayne. “Is something bothering you? Is that why you asked?”

Wayne grunts. Not believing he’s about to share money problems with the son of one of the richest men in Hawkins. Someone who grew up with every luxury there was. Not thinking about the other side for a second. But here he goes, sharing one of his deepest insecurities to open, listening ears.

“I’m just worrying about the bills starting to pile up, that’s all.”

“I’m sure that really stressful. At least Eddie’s hospital bills should be taken care of, that should give you some relief.”

The rest of the room becomes a stark silence. A rush of confusion coming to Wayne’s head. “What?”

“Has his bill not been taken care of?” Steve looks shocked, and angry.

“Not the last I checked.” Wayne starting to wonder if he’s even checked at all, or just went straight to assuming. With all the chaos, it was hard to keep track of the days. What he did in each of them.

Steve stands, rather abruptly. Swearing under his breath. “I’m going to go make a phone call. I’ll see you later.”

Wayne nods goodbye as Steve leaves the room. Glad he shared what he did, even if he was hesitant to. Now he might have a fighting chance to pay his debts. Now he might have a chance to get a house for his boy to go home to.

For himself to go home to. It’s enough hope to make him want to cry again.

Time passes at some undetermined speed. The minutes on the clock slowly ticking by. Creeping toward the time where Wayne has to leave to be able to get to work on time. Wondering if it’s worth it to head back and try to get some rest before he goes.

But he waits. Patiently waits for something to happen. For Eddie to open his eyes and remember him. Say something in his direction other than swears. Say something that he actually means.

It’s later in the afternoon when Eddie starts to stir. His eyes blink open and stare blankly at the ceiling. Realizing all at once that he’s stuck in this fate. Look so defeated while he tries to do something as simple as raise his head.

It’s like he’s back to being newly born and learning how to do things on his own. Anger and sadness being the most reliable emotions. Rampant frustration knowing that he’s capable of more, but just can’t.

Wayne steps in when Eddie grips the handrails and tries to pull himself into a sitting position. Places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder to stop him while he readjusts the bed. Making sure Eddie’s pillows are still comfortable.

Eddie leans deeply into the bed with a silent thank you in his eyes. Hands falling in his lap, gently twitching and starting to fidget. If Eddie was wearing his rings, he’d be spinning them around his fingers.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have a book or anything to read to you,” Wayne says to fill the silence. Not quite knowing what to say. “It’s just me today.”

Eddie stares at Wayne like he’s searching for something. Mixed with a knowing sadness behind it all. He knows what he did, Dustin said as much the other day. He’s starting to remember more and more. New and old pain coming back to him all at once.

It must be exhausting.

“That’s ok,” Eddie breathes. Barely a whisper. It’s the first thing he’s said to Wayne that he actually means.

“You just missed Steve,” Wayne says cautiously. “Still don’t fully understand how the two of you ended up hanging out over the break. Or became what I’m assuming is some level of friends. If what he says is true. But I guess people change right, otherwise he wouldn’t be givin’ you the time of day let alone visiting you this often. Turned out to be a nice kid.”

Wayne’s just talking to get some kind of reaction. Filling the space with nonsense just to be good company. So Eddie doesn’t feel so alone anymore.

“I’m doing ok,” he continues. Making sure that Eddie knows not to worry about him. “You know me, just working at the plant. Tryin’ to get some overtime. Like normal. I’ve been stayin’ at this motel down the road so I can be here if anything happens. Don’t have to drive across town.”

Eddie takes a deep breath. Mouth opening as words start to form. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, you did nothing wrong.”

Tears gloss over Eddie’s eyes. The pain releasing itself in the only way it knows how. “I ran. I’m sorry.”

Wayne sits on the edge of his seat, getting as close to the bed as possible. “Listen to me, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You were scared, you ran, we all do. I don’t care what happened in that week. I don’t care what happened yesterday, or the day before. What matters now is that you’re here, and you’re getting better. That’s all that matters to me.”

“But,” Eddie chokes. Breathing in deep. “I yelled at you. I’m sorry.”

“You were scared. You’re in pain. I know you didn’t mean it. It’s ok. I didn’t go through all of your teenage years without getting screamed at, I know how to take it.”

“I want to go home,” Eddie says, voice breaking.

Wayne wants so much to be able to give him that. Wants to lie and tell him it’s waiting for him. But Eddie’s going through enough already, he doesn’t need the lies. The truth might not be the nicest to hear, but it’s better than the feeling of a revealed lie. Wayne didn’t need to add anything to Eddie’s pain.

“Yeah, I do too.”

They sit in silence until Wayne has to go to work. Stands from the chair and wishes his back would just act like twenty years ago again. Says his goodbye to Eddie and makes his way out the door.

“Love you, Wayne,” Eddie says to him before stepping outside of the room.

Wayne turns back to look at Eddie practically falling asleep again. “Love you, too, Eddie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

note: a little earlier this week cause I'm going on vacation. chapter now posted on my ao3 as well.

next part

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@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

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@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

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@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

#chills right to the marrow fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #everyone lives/nobody dies #wayne munson #wayne pov #steve harrington #eddie munson #AWAKE AND SPEAKING YALL #presteddie #hospitals

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writeyouin · 3 months

Note

Idw Optimus and his s/o having a drunken good time? Like just being stupid drunk please?

Optimus Prime X Reader – Drunk Headcanons

A/N – I took a few liberties here making it a bit of a bittersweet request, with a Cybertronian reader.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Optimus Prime… Orion Pax. Right now, Optimus feels like he is both people, and neither.

The war on Cybertron is finally over, and having come back to his home planet, Optimus realises that nobody wants him there.

It’s such a strange and hollow sensation, yet he can’t blame any of the so-called NAILS for wanting him gone.

But without the war, who is he and where can he even go?

He knows too much. He’s not the archivist anymore. He can’t fathom going back to being who he used to be. Yet, he no longer feels like Optimus Prime.

He’s mulling this over when he spots you. An old flame from a long, long time ago. You and he used to hang out, back in the day. You were the personal assistant to some of the wealthiest bots on Cybertron, though they kept you more like a prize pet.

Optimus remembers how the two of you used to sneak away for stolen moments together, dreaming about the future, one where he was maybe a senator, and you were free to simply be yourself.

Then you both started listening to Megatron’s rallies, believing that you could be more than what the Functionalists decreed and after that… Optimus didn’t know. He had become the leader of the Autobots, and honestly, he thought you were dead.

Optimus followed you through the rowdy crowds of those recently returned to Cybertron.

He tried calling you, but you couldn’t hear him over the noise. Sometimes he lost sight of you and it stressed him out completely, even though it was ridiculous that he should still be attached to you after all these millennia. But he would always spot you again at the last minute, and finally, he was able to catch up with you. When he did, all he managed was a lame “…Hello.”

“Hello,” You echoed back, equally surprised to see him, and that he had followed you.

Optimus tries to explain why he had to catch up with you, but in truth, he doesn’t know why. He has seen a hundred familiar faces of friends he thought had perished, yet you were the only one he had felt the need to chase down.

He tries to ask where you’ve been all these years and how you’ve managed to stay safe, but again, words fail him.

Finally, you smile sympathetically. “Want to get a drink? I’ve got some high-grade on my ship.”

Optimus nods and follows you away.

When you said your ship, he thought you meant the ship you lived on, not literally your ship!

But it is. He asks you about it, but you shake your head and tell him to wait for drinks. You and he pass some crew, but a warning look from you sends them scattering. It’s not that you’re being mean, but rather that you have seen Optimus for the first time since the war began, and it’s clear that he needs something to hold onto. So, for now, you’re going to give him time to just

No leading, no pressures, just two old friends, catching up.

You talk about everything and nothing while you both get started on the high grade, waiting till Optimus is just a little bit tipsy before you explain where you’ve been all these years.

While Optimus was leading the war effort, you became a space Pirate, and Captain of the Good Ship Misery. It’s not an aptly named ship. It’s actually one of the happiest in the nearest 7 quadrants.

Your crew set up supply runs between the few colonies of NAILS that managed to survive. You looked out for the bots who couldn’t take care of themselves, bringing them energon, and medical supplies, or even escorting the occasional bot through Decepticon territory. Meanwhile, you learned how to fight, boarding Decepticon ships and taking what you could from their weapons to their body parts, if there was an innocent bot in need of repair.

You are so far from the meek young bot Optimus once knew. Then again, he’s nothing like he used to be either.

Yet, the way you tell it, that isn’t a bad thing.

Soon, you get onto the harder stories. Friends lost, traitors found, enemies made, that kind of thing. Optimus has a whole trove of such stories too. So, you both drink more and more, until it’s not as sad anymore.

Then, you’re both laughing. After that, you’re crying, but given even more high-grade, it’s back to the good times.

Finally, it’s getting early into the next cycle, and you’re sitting at the bar, head resting lopsidedly in your palm, staring at Optimus.

“Why did you follow me, Optimus?”

He looks at you like a sad puppy who doesn’t have a home to go to and follows the first friendly face it finds.

“I don’t know,” He replies, fear lacing his answer.

You lean forward to kiss his cheek-plate, only lingering for a few seconds.

“When you figure it out, tell me. In the meantime, you’re welcome to stay here, but I’ve got to get my crew together. We’ve still got work to do.”

You leave Optimus at the ship’s bar, giving him time to figure out what he wants now. It’s nice to see him again, even if you’re not sure that he’s going to stay.

#fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader #transformers #maccadam #idw #optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #cybertronian reader #drunk headcanons #drunk #headcanons

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borathae · 8 months

Text

“Taehyung doesn’t possess patience when it comes to reconnecting with his boyfriend. Jungkook’s there to remind him to take it easy despite the aching longing.”

Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x Vampire!Jungkook

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut, some domestic Fluff in the beginning, Polyamory!AU

Warnings: Taehyung has major FOMO poor boy, he misses his poly family :(, then Kookie comes back home heheh, this is disgusting nasty porn yall, the neediest vampire sex ever, Hard Dom & Top!Jungkook, neediest sub & Bottom!Taehyung, tears, drool, painful anal without preparation at first because Tae wants it, before Kook decides enough is enough and prepares him, strength & muscle kink, feral play (this is a needy Ripper "hunting" a needy Normal besties), rimjob, anal fingering, anal fisting (the real deal), he takes him into a headlock as he does it, lube enema, dirty talk, huge ownership kink (Tae calls Kook "Owner" and Kook calls him "property"), slight dollification, praise, degradation, hair pulling, big dicks, non painful anal as well, oh Tae you impatient bottom, rough blood drinking, stuff goes up Tae's ass which shouldn't go up his ass jsjjsj, besties you have no idea how unhinged this is, but it is also insanely soft and safe, the most comforting aftercare, they're so in love omfg

Wordcount: 8.8k

a/n: this is based on anonie's idea, i probably made it way hornier than you wanted it but i couldn't help myself, i was ovulating as i worked on it fajdsjfa i feel like i need to write your idea as well hahah keep it tame because this is quite frankly nasty porn bahahha enjoy besties, this is so disgusting omfg 😩💜

Taehyung has been alone at the estate for five days. Truly and really alone. You, Yoongi and Hoseok are visiting Seokjin and Emma in Gordes. Jimin is currently visiting friends in London and won’t be home for another week. And Jungkook, well, Jungkook has been on a boxing camp trip for a week now. Which leaves poor Taehyung all alone at the estate.

He could have obviously gone to Gordes as well or went with Jimin, and Jungkook would have probably liked him there with him as well, but Taehyung had a painting to finish. He really wanted to finish it. Being alone at the estate, trapped in the ecstatic state of painting was fun for the first three days, but Taehyung has been beginning to feel lonely. A painting can only distract him that much before the sad state of himself comes creeping up on him.

Taehyung hadn’t even realised how much of his day actually consists of being with his forever family. Be it voluntarily or just simply by existing in the same space together. Taehyung really began to miss those small moments of quality time.

Painting doesn’t feel as nice anymore and he regrets not accompanying one of his friends. He could be in Gordes right now, sipping French wine with his friends, he could be in London right now chatting with Jimin and his friends, he could also be in some rural American boxing camp, watching Jungkook hit punches at other boxing lovers. He could be somewhere else other than his lonely, quiet atelier.

Taehyung huffs out air in frustration and drops the paint brush in the water. He doesn’t want to paint anymore.

He gets up and leaves the atelier and soon his wing. The estate is so big and so empty. Every room he passes makes him feel more and more frustrated.

Perhaps he could talk to someone on the phone. The time shows eight at night, so everyone must still be awake.

He tries you first. You don’t pick up your phone, but a text message arrives soon after.

- Sweetest ♡: I’m sorry, my darling but we’re currently at a wine tasting and I can’t talk here. I’ll call back later. I love you ♡

Taehyung pouts. A wine tasting?? This is so unfair! He wants to be at a wine tasting as well!

He sends you an answer with a jealous pout on his lips.

- Taehyung: Don’t worry about it. Have fun, my darling ♡

- Sweetest ♡: We do. We’re thinking of you, sweetiepie eheh ♡

You attached a selfie of you and the others. Seokjin and Emma are glued together. Emma is grinning brightly, while Seokjin smolders like always. Yoongi has his arm around you, throwing up a peace sign with a toothless smile, while you in contrast show your upper and lower teeth in a cute smile. Hoseok is the one holding the phone, making a cute kissy face at the camera. You all have a wine glass in your hands.

Taehyung smiles and pouts at the same time. As much as he feels sad about it, he also really likes this selfie. You took this picture just for him, thinking of him, but he wants to be on it as well! It’s unfair! He wants to be on the selfie and not here!

- Taehyung: I want to be with you :( I regret my decision of staying here :(

- Sweetest ♡: Nooo Tete, I’m sorry you feel this way :( maybe you could still book a ticket and come here belated?

- Taehyung: Perhaps I will truly do this. I shall talk to Jimin first. I need to hear human voices again.

- Sweetest ♡: Gosh, I understand :( I promise once I have time, I’ll call you back ♡

- Taehyung: Take your time. I love you ♡

- Sweetest ♡: Love you more, darling sweetest sugerbutt ♡

Taehyung laughs, scrunching his nose. He likes it when you call him silly nicknames. This instantly lifted his mood. He sends you one last text which consists of laughing emojis and a heart, then tries to call Jimin.

His best friend picks up after the fifth ring. Loud techno music fills Taehyung’s speaker instantly.

“Hey Tete, I can’t talk right now. We’re at this rave and it’s crazy loud here. I’ll call you back later.”

The phone call ends again. Taehyung pouts. Well, that was a fail. This is so unfair! One friend group is spending their evening tasting French wine, while the other is getting drunk at a rave. Taehyung has never in his life felt more left out than he does right now. This is so unfair!

He tries to call Jungkook. Perhaps he will finally give him the kind of human contact he needs.

“Hey”

“Kookie, he-”

“You’ve reached my voicemail which means I’m currently not available. Leave your message after the beep, I’ll definitely forget to listen to it. Byee.”

The phone beeps.

“For heaven’s sake, Kook. Why must you start your stupid message with a greeting? Do you have any idea of the hope that I just lost? The betrayal I feel? How could you do this to me? I am aching in loneliness and you betray me so cruelly. I won’t forgive you. Change your voice message”, Taehyung rants and ends the call with a huff of air and an aggressive slam of his finger.

Taehyung feels guilty instantly. This was terribly mean. He calls Jungkook again, hoping that he will pick up, even if he knows that he won’t.

“Hey. You’ve reached my voicemail which means I’m currently not available. Leave your message after the beep, I’ll definitely forget to listen to it. Byee.”

“Please forgive me. I didn’t mean my last voice message. It is just that…I am so lonely and I need you with me again. I should have never stayed here. Oh Kookie, I miss you. Okay, uhm, goodbye.”

He ends the call again and stuffs his phone into his pocket. Well, this didn’t help.

Now Taehyung experiences major jealousy on top of all the loneliness as well. He wants to taste wine and dance at raves and be at boxing camps. He wants to be included!

Taehyung spends the next hours sulking in the sitting room. Jimin doesn’t call back, you don’t call back and Jungkook doesn’t call back either. Taehyung is going to die alone. This is what is going to happen. He is going to die from loneliness and the grief of being so left out.

Taehyung goes to sleep without any kind of phone calls coming in, but wakes up to sorry messages from you and Jimin.

Jimin sent his message at around four twenty five in the morning.

- Jimin ♡: I’m so sorry, I just came home from the rave. I tried to call, but you are sleeping already. I hope you didn’t wait for it for too long.

- Taehyung: I didn’t. It’s okay. I hope you aren’t too hungover. ♡

He opens your chat next. They arrived last night at around two.

- Sweetest ♡: TETE I'M SORRY IFGORIT TI CALL

- Sweetest ♡: IM DRUNJ AND YONGUS IS TELLING EE TO STOP TEXT7NG

- Sweetest ♡: but I wanma text yiu and say sorry

- Sweetest ♡: TTET I.M SORRY I LOVE YOU SO MICH PLEAWE DONT BE SAD YOU VAN COME HEER IF YOI WNAT TO

- Sweetest ♡: 😭😭😭

Taehyung smiles. You are cute.

- Taehyung: It seems that the wine tasting was successful 🤣 just sleep it off, darling. I understand ♡

He locks his phone again and rolls out of bed. The loneliness still remains, but at least he feels assured that his friends tried to call once they actually found the time. Everyone except Jungkook. He is still giving Taehyung the silent treatment.

Insecurity joins the loneliness and jealousy. What if he is doing it on purpose? What if Jungkook doesn’t want to talk to him?

Taehyung spends most of his morning hours analysing every text message they exchanged and looking at every picture he sent. He analyses everything. Every word, every letter and every face he can spot in the pictures. He can see a lot of faces which are exactly Jungkook’s type. And even more body types which are exactly his taste.

What if he is moving on with people from the boxing camp? What if he is forgetting about him because he has people way more his type by his side?

Taehyung spends the early afternoon hours feeling sorry for himself and crying in insecurity. Yes, the abandoned estate is definitely not doing him well.

Taehyung is in his wing, feeling sad and lonely, when he hears the front door open. He abandons his painting and uses his powers to get to the entrance.

He doesn’t even bother to use the stairs, flinging himself over the railing so he can jump down this way. He lands quietly, but still startles whoever walked through the front door.

“Geez! You scared me, oh my god!”

“Jungkook! Jungkook, you are home!?”

“Hey there, oof”, Jungkook says and grunts, stumbling back as he gets Taehyung throwing himself around his neck. His back knocks into the door from the force of Taehyung’s jump, making Jungkook both laugh and grunt.

“You’re home! You’re home!”

Taehyung wraps his legs around his waist, using his strength to keep himself glued to Jungkook. The latter drops his bags and slides his hands under Taehyung’s butt to support him.

“Welcome home to me, I guess. Are you okay? Are you crying?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Baby, what’s the matter?”

“Why did you ignore me? Did I do something?”

“I’m sorry Tae, fuck. I’ve been travelling since yesterday and didn’t have my phone turned on. Did you need something?”

“Yes. You”, Taehyung says and lifts his head.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, reaching up to wipe the tears away. His eyes are soft in adoration. He keeps one hand under Taehyung’s butt, using the back of his other hand to wipe his cheeks and on the side he can reach easier, he uses his thumb to dry his tears. Taehyung leans into the touches, sniffling with the biggest pout on his lips.

“God Tae, you old sap. I’m here now though.”

“Good”, Taehyung says and slams his lips down onto Jungkook’s.

“Mhm”, he lets out, accepting his fate with a fond chuckle. Taehyung isn’t going to break this kiss any time soon. That much is sure.

Jungkook collides with the wall, gasping loudly at the rough contact. Taehyung latches himself onto him, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He whimpers and mewls, sucking on Jungkook’s skin as if his life depended on it.

“Tae, fuck”, Jungkook purrs, rolling his eyes back sensually and tilting his head to the side. Taehyung’s fangs grace his skin sometimes, his long fingers dig deep into his flesh. His boyfriend is desperate and he lets Jungkook feel it.

“Fuck baby, that feels so good, fuck”, Jungkook purrs, groping Taehyung’s hips to get him closer. He even lifts his knee just enough that Taehyung can hump it.

He was correct. Taehyung didn’t break the kiss in a long time. Jungkook doesn’t know how long he spent carrying him as he kissed him in the entrance hall. He probably would still do it if he hadn’t set him down gently and made the mistake of breaking the kiss.

“Can I at least take off my coat?” he asked, but Taehyung didn’t let him.

Taehyung ripped it off of him and then grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to drag him upstairs. Jungkook followed with laughter and attempted complaints to slow down, but Taehyung merely silenced him with deep kisses and needy groping.

Jungkook doesn’t know how long it took them to get to Taehyung’s wing. The walk isn’t long normally, but Taehyung kept pressing him against whatever surface closest and then proceeded to kiss him forever. Truly, Jungkook didn’t even get to breathe properly, let alone speak words.

Taehyung lifts his puffy lips from Jungkook’s heavily marked neck. He groans as he does, grabbing his boyfriend by his clothes so he could drag him again. Jungkook lets it happen with a laugh, throwing his head back in joy.

“Fuck Tae, just let me come home. I was on a plane not long ago, I’m disoriented.”

“Come home with my help”, Taehyung answers him and throws him onto his atelier’s fur rug.

Jungkook falls, laughing loudly because the entire situation is hilariously cute to him. He loves being welcomed home this way. He really does.

“Fuck Tae, you needy baby”, he laughs. His dark hair is a mess, Taehyung messes it up even more when he mounts his lap and then drags him into a sloppy kiss by his hair.

Jungkook purrs deeply, kissing him back happily. His strong hands come to grasp his boyfriend’s body, dimpling the softness of his thighs and marking his waist as his’.

By now, it is clear to him what this night will bring. Bodies reconnecting in the most carnal of ways. He doesn’t dislike this idea. On the contrary, the sweatpants he’s been wearing have become rather tight around his crotch and breathing is so difficult when all he can do is fight for air. He missed Taehyung. He really did.

Jungkook wasn’t supposed to come home for another week, but couldn’t take the distance anymore. With a yearning heart, he booked a plane ticket and decided to surprise Taehyung by coming home earlier than planned. The aching for his warm touch and lovely voice was just too grande. Jungkook had hoped that Taehyung would welcome him home passionately, smiling into the kiss now that it is finally his sweet reality.

Taehyung’s weight is atop his swollen cock, grinding and grinding and grinding against him in needy riding motions. The chuckles once present on Jungkook’s swollen lips get replaced by deep purrs of desperation.

“Fuck. Tae”, he murmurs between kisses, “I’m hard for you. Fuck. So hard.”

The kiss breaks through Taehyung’s will. Jungkook is left gasping and chasing his lips. Not for long however because then they are busy parting in shock as he watches Taehyung rip his own clothes from his body. Yes, truly and honestly rip. The fabric rips easily under his immense strength. Not even the leather belt stands a chance, getting thrown to the side.

“Damn baby…”

Once entirely naked and exposed, Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s shirt. His heavy, swollen cock slaps against his own stomach with each movement, but neither man cares right now. Taehyung because he needs to get Jungkook naked and the latter because he fears for his shirt’s life.

“Wait! Don’t!” Jungkook blurts out and sits up to take it off quickly, “don’t rip my clothes. I like them.”

“Hurry up, please”, Taehyung begs, leaking onto Jungkook’s lap because his cock is so, so lonely. He is kneeling for now, giving Jungkook space to move.

“Jesus fuck Tae, what’s gotten into you? I’ve never seen you that horny before” Jungkook mumbles, taking off his pants as well.

“I was so lonely. Oh Kook, I was so lonely.”

“I’m here now, baby.”

“Please don’t listen to the voice messages I left.”

Jungkook meets Taehyung’s eyes. He is smirking playfully while Taehyung seems embarrassed.

“I am serious.”

“You know that I really wanna do it now, don’t you?”

“No. They’re stupid”, Taehyung says and hooks his hands in Jungkook’s briefs.

Rip!

“Hey!” Jungkook gasps, watching with big eyes as Taehyung throws his destroyed briefs over his shoulders, “what the hell? I told you that I’ll do it, didn’t I? Huh? Where did you get that lube from? Tae wait, what are you doing?”

Taehyung scrambles onto Jungkook’s lap higher and pushes him down into the rug again. Jungkook moans, connecting with the floor in a low thump.

“Tae give me a min- holy fuck”, Jungkook gasps and arches his back, gripping Taehyung’s waist desperately. Taehyung is jerking his cock quickly, using lube to make it slip easier, “Tae…holy fuck ahmmm”, he purrs deeply, looking just a little dazed.

“I need you”, Taehyung chokes out and positions himself over Jungkook’s cock.

“Tae, you didn’t even stretch”, Jungkook gasps, sitting up in horror as he watches his terribly unprepared boyfriend lower his hips closer and closer to his cock. He grips his hips, tries to stop him but too late. His unstretched hole comes in contact with Jungkook girthy cockhead. The resistance even hurts Jungkook and he has the easier job of sinking in, “baby, stop that.”

“Be quiet”, Taehyung murmurs and stubbornly pushes down. He rim protests in stinging pain.

“Hey, you’ll hurt yourself, hey”, Jungkook tries to stop him. He really, really does, but Taehyung is stubborn and he is desperate for cock.

He tries harder. Jungkook’s thick tip breaches his hole. The resistance breaks with a snap and then Taehyung sinks down three inches within the blink of an eye.

“Ah”, he lets out, convulsing in obvious discomfort.

“Holy fuck, you’re so tight”, Jungkook croaks, gasping for air as his brows shoot up in surprise.

Taehyung sobs, pushing his hips down even if his hole begs him to stop.

“Hey stop it please Tae”, Jungkook speaks softly but with worry in his voice, “come on, get off. I’ll eat you out, finger you until you’re loose.”

“Shut up”, Taehyung spits, finally lifting his head and giving Jungkook view of his tear-stained face, “I don’t want to be stretched. I don’t care about the pain, I just want to be with you again. Stop telling me to get off of you. Do you not want me? Is that it?” he babbles and sobs.

“Tae, no”, Jungkook gasps, cradling his cheeks, “of course I want you. Hey, don’t cry, hey it’s okay”, he whispers and begins littering his face with worried kisses.

“Then stop saying that”, Taehyung gets out and whimpers.

Jungkook bottoms out. Taehyung’s walls are almost painfully tight around his cock, his rim squeezes so harshly around his base that it feels as if he was wearing a cockring.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna make you cry. I just worry”, Jungkook whispers and wipes his tears, “doesn’t it hurt?”

“I don’t care. I want to be with you”, Taehyung says and drops his face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck. He hugs him, burying his left hand deep in his hair and gripping his upper arm with his right hand, “please I want to be with you, please.”

“You can, baby. I’m not going anywhere”, Jungkook assures him, hugging him gently as his hand dances up and down his back.

“Do you want me?”

“Of course I do. I want you so bad.”

“Then show me.”

“What?”

“Show me”, Taehyung insists louder, squeezing Jungkook against him, “show me please”, he adds and whimpers as he tries to move on Jungkook’s cock.

The younger vampire understands. He wants him to do the fucking. Jungkook pushes his legs apart for better support and rolls his hips up. His cock has a hard time shifting inside Taehyung. The pained moan Taehyung releases was expected by Jungkook.

“Don’t you want to take it slow? I can barely move”, Jungkook says.

Taehyung shakes his head, giving his hair an impatient tug.

“Fine. One more time. I’ll move now”, Jungkook says and rolls his hips up.

Taehyung moans painfully again, scraping his nails over Jungkook’s scalp.

“Again. Now”, Jungkook warns him and bucks his hips up.

It is difficult for him to listen to Taehyung’s pained noises. He pulls him closer, trying to ease the pain by spreading his buttocks. It eases some of the pressure around his shaft, he hopes that it eases some of the burn for Taehyung as well.

“Again. Now”, he says and fucks his cock into his tight hole.

Taehyung shudders, fleeing the thrust instinctively.

“Please say something. Are you okay?” Jungkook begs and slides his fingers to Taehyung’s hole to soothe it. He rubs his burning rim in circular motions, keeping his hips still for now.

“It feels so good.”

“No, it doesn’t. You’re fleeing.”

“Please, I’m begging you, please”, Taehyung begs and sobs against Jungkook’s neck, “please don’t stop.”

“Fuck”, Jungkook gets out, gripping Taehyung’s ass to spread it. He rolls his hips up, biting down on his lower lip because the squeeze is incredibly intense. Taehyung’s tight walls basically drag Jungkook’s skin over his own cockhead, giving him sensations normally only a tight handjob brings with it. He drops his hips, squeezing Taehyung’s buttocks before he thrusts up again. It drags and drags and drags. He drops again.

“Fuck, I think you need more lube.”

“No, it’s perfect. Please.”

“It feels like your ass is fucking jerking me off. It’s so tight.”

“Good”, Taehyung convulses in a grateful sob, pressing his hips back onto Jungkook’s cock, “I’m serving you. Owner gets jerked with my useless ass.”

Jungkook throbs inside Taehyung. He widens his eyes, staring at the room with held breath.

“Owner?”

“I’m your property.”

“Tae”, Jungkook croaks and buries his right hand in his hair, “holy fuck, what are you saying?”

“Please tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“That you’re my owner.”

“I am. I fucking own you. Holy fuck, Tae”, Jungkook gets out and growls deeply, gripping Taehyung’s waist to keep his hips still. He fucks up into him. The pressure is still there, the squeeze of his rim didn’t get less.

Taehyung moans painfully, arching his back as he begs to be fucked through it.

“Keep breathing. I own you and I want you to fucking breathe for me, property. Understood?”

“Yes”, Taehyung mewls, nodding his head vigorously. He is drifting away into a headspace he hasn’t been in for a long time. Jungkook should have never ever been gone for as long as he did, because Taehyung should have never left this headspace for as long as he had to.

“That’s it. I like when you behave. I’ll do it again. Breathe in.”

Taehyung obeys.

“And out.”

Taehyung obeys for a second and then Jungkook’s cock stretching his hole makes him sob instead.

“In.”

Taehyung obeys. It doesn’t hurt when Jungkook pulls out. It feels good. Like something, which wasn’t supposed to be there, is finally getting removed. Of course that’s it. Jungkook’s cock is still an unwanted object for his hole. Of course it feels good when he pulls out and therefore removes it.

“Out.”

Taehyung obeys. The burn returns. Taehyung can barely exhale before his throat produces another pained whimper. He pushes back. He wants it to stop burning. He needs his body to understand that Jungkook isn’t unwanted, that his cock is familiar to his hole and that he is exactly where he is supposed to be. His heart knows, his brain as well, so why does his body refuse to acknowledge it?

“In.”

Taehyung obeys.

“Out.”

A second then it hurts and he whimpers.

“Why?” he sobs.

“What’s the matter?”

“Why doesn’t it get it? Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not foreign. Why doesn’t it get it?”

“Who?”

“My body”, Taehyung lifts his head to stare at Jungkook with widened, teary eyes, “why doesn’t it want to accept you back? I want to have you back so bad. Why is it making it so hard?”

Jungkook frowns.

“Don’t look at me this way. Please, I’m not crazy.”

“Hey. Stop that”, Jungkook says and lifts him off his lap. He gets on his knees, carrying Taehyung in his arms. He keeps his cock inside because he is aware that if he pulled out, Taehyung might have a mental breakdown. It is obvious in how desperately he clings to him instantly and how he tries to clench even if that makes it hurt even more.

“You’re not crazy. You’re just impatient”, Jungkook speaks to him softly and full of patience. He lies him down on his back, supporting his head until it is safely engulfed in the fur of his rug. He pulls out.

“No. Please”, Taehyung begs, trying to pull him back with his legs around his hips, but Jungkook shakes them off. He grabs for him next, “please. Please don’t do this, please.”

“It’s okay, just keep breathing”, Jungkook assures him and takes Taehyung’s legs to slide them off his hips. He struggles for a bit as Taehyung tries to use his strength against him, “come on”, is all Jungkook needs to say for Taehyung’s legs to fall off of him like limp, useless things.

“That’s better”, Jungkook praises and positions himself over Taehyung.

Taehyung looks up at him. Sniffly, teary eyed and pouty. His normally big hands are balled into tiny fists, resting on his chest this way.

“Who knows what’s best for you?” Jungkook speaks in a soft voice, staring deep into his eyes.

“You”, Taehyung whispers.

“That’s right. And what does that mean for you?”

“Owner controls me.”

“That too, but…”

“I, I have to let you do what needs to, to be done.”

“Good job”, Jungkook praises and rewards Taehyung with kisses to his overly sensitive neck.

Taehyung moans shakily instantly, rolling his head to the side as far as it can go. Every kiss placed onto his skin feels better than the one before. Every kiss painted onto his body leaves him trembling for Jungkook. It feels so good to be adored.

Jungkook doesn’t stay on his neck for as long as Taehyung would have wanted him to, but he doesn’t get to complain because he makes up for it by kissing his way down to his nipples and taking them into his mouth.

Taehyung opens his legs as far as he can. He arches his back, gasps for air and whimpers even louder. His cock is throbbing, his hole is clenching and his veins are filling with electricity. It feels so good. Jungkook feels so good.

And again, he doesn’t stay on his nipples for as long as Taehyung wanted him too. And again, Taehyung doesn’t mind because he makes up for it.

Jungkook straightens up, kneeling by Taehyung’s side, and wraps his arms around Taehyung’s right thigh. He lifts his lower body off the ground and twists it just enough that he has access to his hole. He moans as he buries his face between his ass, closing his eyes because there is no sweeter taste to him.

Taehyung wails up in pleasure, gripping the fur of the rug and twisting it desperately just as Jungkook twists his body to gain access to his hole. He soothes the burn with eager licks, drawing the first moan of honest pleasure from Taehyung’s lips.

Jungkook purrs, furrowing his brows in bliss. Taehyung tastes like sweet lube and hints of his own cock. He licks it off of him eagerly until only the taste of his hole remains. Addictive. His taste is a fucking drug to Jungkook. He growls and buries his face deeper until his nose is surrounded by his musk and sweet scent.

“Kook…”

“You taste so good, holy fuck”, Jungkook lulls and fucks his tongue deeper, grinding his nose against his ass this way.

Taehyung whines and wiggles, trying to flee because it feels too good to handle. It triggers Jungkook’s hunting instincts, resulting in the Ripper to wrap his strong arms around Taehyung’s hips and keep them still this way. He growls into him, shoving his wet tongue into his hole in an almost punishing rhythm.

“Kook”, Taehyung wails into the rug, “please. Please Kook please.”

Jungkook answers him in growls and his tongue curling deep inside. His biceps is tensing, his fingers are bruising the soft parts of Taehyung’s waist. He can beg all he wants, Jungkook is going to show him how well he can prepare him.

He hates when Taehyung is impatient. It angers him. His boyfriend shouldn’t hurt himself just because he is too needy for his own sake. He should take it slow, stretch until his hole is shaped for Jungkook. His impatience is offensive to Jungkook. How dare he not take the best care of himself. How dare he neglect himself.

“It’s too much please, it’s too much”, Taehyung begs, grabbing bundles of the rug far above his head so he can drag himself away from Jungkook’s eager mouth.

Jungkook breaks away from him, hunting him with a deep growl of his name.

“Don’t flee”, he orders, grabbing Taehyung’s hips to drag him back.

Taehyung slides over the rug with a squeak and his trembling fingers losing grip on the rug.

“When I tell you that I wanna prepare you, you’re supposed to arch your back and let me do my fucking thing. Understood?”

“It feels too good, I can’t do this”, Taehyung mewls, fighting his boyfriend’s grip just so he can pull him back again. He loves this so much. To be so desired to be taken forcefully turns him on so much. This is exactly what he needed. He needed to be hunted and claimed.

“I don’t care. You’re gonna feel good. Now arch your back.”

Taehyung whimpers, getting to his knees and elbows to arch his back.

“That’s better. Such a good property”, Jungkook praises and buries his face back between Taehyung’s buttocks. He sucks and licks eagerly, feasting on his taste like a starved man.

“Kook please”, Taehyung chokes out, dropping his face on his own lower arm. He pulls his lips back in a mewl, furrowing his brows. He never should have gotten to his knees. It is difficult to keep the position when Jungkook makes his thighs shake so much.

It is moments like these which remind the two men how useless the passage of time is to them. The night ages, but they are still the same. Jungkook takes a lot of time feasting on his boyfriend’s sculpted ass. By the time he finally lifts his head again, Taehyung soaked the rug with his leaking cock and his legs barely want to support him.

“Holy fuck Tae”, Jungkook groans, “holy fuck, I need to bottle your taste so I can always have it. Holy fuck”, he moans and licks a thick stripe along Taehyung’s spine. He forces him onto the ground this way, using his body weight for it. It is an easy task to pin down Taehyung. He lets it happen willingly, tilting his head into unnatural angles just so Jungkook has access to his throat. Jungkook claims it with a guttural moan and his tongue leaving wet strips of ownership on his skin.

“Who do you belong to?” Jungkook rasps.

“You”, Taehyung whimpers.

Jungkook purrs, wrapping his stronger arm around Taehyung’s throat so he can take him into a headlock.

“Who owns you?”

“You.”

Jungkook drags Taehyung into a different position so he was spooning him. They are so close this way. Jungkook’s thick, swollen cock presses against Taehyung’s ass this way. Taehyung gasps for air in the tight headlock, drooling all over Jungkook’s arm.

“Who dictates your every step?”

“You”, Taehyung presses out and trembles.

“That’s right”, Jungkook closes his arm tighter around Taehyung, dragging his parted lips over his temple. He runs his other hand down his side, sliding it under his thigh, “lift your leg.”

Taehyung obeys happily, panting in excitement. Now it is finally time. He was patient and Jungkook will finally reward him with his cock. He lifts his bent leg as high as he can, arching his back so Jungkook has even better access to his needy hole.

“There we go. Such a good property”, Jungkook rasps and fills Taehyung’s hole.

With his finger. One of it. He is being purposefully cruel at this point. Taehyung could easily take three.

Taehyung huffs out air as much as he whimpers, pressing back into Jungkook’s hand in an attempt to get more.

Jungkook watches with a dirty grin on his lips, keeping his finger still so he can feel every desperate clench Taehyung’s hole is doing.

“Please”, Taehyung begs.

“Please what?”

“More. Please more.”

“But Tae. I need to prepare you.”

“Please Owner, please don’t do this to me, please”, Taehyung chokes out and grips Jungkook’s lower arm, “please, I need more please.”

“You’re adorable”, Jungkook rasps and buries two more fingers in Taehyung’s hole.

He can literally feel the relief in Taehyung’s sigh, watch it in the way his entire body relaxes and smell it in the thick droplets of pleasure seeping from his cock. He was so tense, but suddenly grows limp in Jungkook’s arms. As if Jungkook’s fingers pressed a button and shed his body of every burden ever.

His eyes roll back and close halfway, his mouth opens without ever closing. This is true bliss. This is how he looks when he finally experiences true bliss.

Jungkook feels a warm tug on his heart, his stomach flutters. He has the prettiest boyfriend. Look at him relaxing on his fingers. Look at him getting high on the feeling of them. Look at him being so perfect.

Jungkook leans down and kisses his cheek, keeping close afterwards. He begins moving inside him, fucking his fingers in and out slowly and curling them each time they press against his prostate.

“You’re so pretty”, Jungkook whispers.

“Kook”, Taehyung keens, spilling tears on his arm. He is pretty. He is desired, he is loved, he is wanted. His body grows so weak in relief that his leg drops and his hands slip from Jungkook’s lower arm.

“Hurts?” Jungkook asks, chasing him.

“More.”

Jungkook obeys, burying his pinkie inside him as well. His hole welcomes him greedily, swallowing his hand until he sits inside him to his knuckles. He throbs and convulses around him, burying his face in Jungkook’s arm. His moan is muffled like this, Jungkook feels it against his skin.

“Isn’t that so much better, hm?” Jungkook whispers deeply, “to let me prepare you and show you how slutty your hole can get? Mhm? Isn’t that so much better?”

“Yes”, Taehyung mewls, nodding his head vigorously. He pulls his lips back again, squeezing his eyes shut, “ah, ah, a-ah.”

“Keep moaning for me, that’s it. Such a good property. Fuck, I own the best boy”, Jungkook praises, twisting his hand deep inside Taehyung.

“Ohgnng”, Taehyung chokes out through gritted teeth, twisting a bundle of the fur rug. Jungkook watches it happen, just as he watches how much his fingers shook as he did it.

He repeats what he did before. Hand deep inside him. Twist it. Left and right, left and right, left and right. Shape his hole, stretch his rim, fill his walls. Twist, twist, twist.

Taehyung begins shaking so sweetly, drooling so much onto Jungkook’s arm that it is running down his sculpted paths by now.

Out again. Jungkook picks up the thick, wet pleasure Taehyung’s cock leaks and covers his hand with it.

“How’s my boy doing, hm?”

“Good…”

“That’s good to hear. Such a good property, I love owning you so much. Now breathe for me.”

Taehyung obeys, feeling dizzy. This is the best and safest headspace he has ever been in. He is owned. Desired. Pretty. Wanted. Taken care of. He is so safe. So, so safe.

Back again. Jungkook fills his boyfriend with his hand. No fingers left out. Hand slickened by Taehyung and body so close to him. Taehyung takes Jungkook’s fist as if he was born to do so, sobbing into his arm because nothing will ever prepare him for the fullness. There is no resistance, no pain. Just pleasure and the ecstatic knowledge that he is able to take an entire hand. His rim sits around Jungkook’s wrist, his walls pulsate around his hand.

“How’s that?”

“Good”, Taehyung whimpers, throbbing around Jungkook’s fist.

Jungkook curses under his breath, and drags his lips to Taehyung’s ear.

“You take a fist like no other, Tete”, he whispers raspily, twisting it inside him.

“You’re making me climax”, Taehyung mewls, convulsing around his fist.

“I am?”

He nods his head vigorously.

“Do you want it?”

He shakes his head vigorously.

“I figured. That’s my good property, you know your fucking place”, Jungkook praises and pulls his hand out.

Taehyung hole complains loudly, gaping around nothing.

“Oh god, it hurts”, Taehyung whines, twitching in the agony of getting edged.

“I know”, Jungkook says and sits up. He slides his arm from under Taehyung’s head and grabs the older vampire’s hips to lift them and fix his position. He turns his body so he was resting on his tummy, then places his hips back into the rug. He fixes the position of his bent leg, running his palm up the back of his thigh. He pushes his hips into the rug, forcing a shaky whimper to escape Taehyung because the movement grinds his cock against the fur. It sticks to his cock and feels rough. Taehyung opens his trembling fingers just so he can bury them deeper in the fur.

“There we go. You’re such a good property, letting me fix you like you’re my pretty doll.”

Taehyung mewls, shaking as if Jungkook just fucked him deep and hard. He loves being a doll. He especially loves being Jungkook’s doll. He loves it so, so much.

Sometimes, when Jungkook makes him feel especially safe, he slips into a doll-like headspace and when that happens, Jungkook truly controls everything which happens to Taehyung. He carries him around, fixes his positions, plays with him, dresses him up and most importantly bundles him in cozy blankets once he is done. And Taehyung loves every second of it, feeling so so safe that sometimes he ends up crying happy tears in Jungkook’s arms.

Taehyung loves being Jungkook’s pretty doll. He loves it so, so much.

Jungkook’s hands leave his body. Taehyung lies limp just like Jungkook’s pretty doll is supposed to, waiting for him impatiently patient. The sound of something being twisted open meets Taehyung’s ear, the sound of something being placed aside follows. A slight wet sound, then something seems to spread the wetness. Silence.

Jungkook’s left hand touches his butt and spreads it apart. Cool wetness touches his rim. Pressure. A stretch. It is nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s fist.

Taehyung mewls, trying to make sense of what is happening. Jungkook just inserted something in his hole, he knows that much, but it doesn’t feel like his fist nor his cock. It is hard and has plastic rills all over it.

Something cold and wet begins filling him up.

“Wh-what?” Taehyung gets out, reaching behind himself until he can hold Jungkook’s wrist, “what are you doing to me? What are you putting inside?”

“Do you feel it?”

“Yes.”

“How does it feel?”

“Cold. Wet.”

“Guess”, Jungkook says and more of it begins filling up his insides.

It is liquid. Very obviously. Taehyung tries to think even if his brain is getting scrambled. Liquid. Jungkook clearly opened something. Whatever is inside his ass feels hard like plastic and has the exact rills on its shaft like a bottle does. The lube bottle. Jungkook is feeding him lube straight from the bottle.

“Lube”, Taehyung gets out and whimpers, arching his back into the sensation.

“That’s right. I’m giving you a good, thick lube enema. Mhm? I know you like that, property.”

Taehyung sobs, convulsing desperately. Jungkook chuckles almost tauntingly.

“I knew you would like that”, he says and stops applying pressure on the bottle, “you know what to do?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Jungkook pulls out the bottle. Taehyung tries to clench instantly, but fails. There is just way too much lube inside and Jungkook’s fist stretched him too wide. The lube seeps out of him in big, gooey globs, covering his ass on its way down.

“Sorry”, he squeaks, reaching behind himself in a desperate attempt to scoop it up and put it back inside. It doesn’t work. All it does is get his fingers messy.

“You’re cute”, Jungkook chuckles and swats his hands away, “you won’t get anywhere like this. Let me”, he says and presses Taehyung’s hips snug against the floor.

He pushes his cock between his ass, feeding his dripping hole his cock in one good thrust.

“Ah!” Taehyung screams up, throwing his head back.

“There we go, that’s gonna keep it inside”, Jungkook lulls and chases the sensation with sensual rolls of his hips.

Taehyung curls his toes, arches his back, clenches his hole, shakes. He can’t control any of the reactions washing over his body. He finally gets fucked by Jungkook. He needed his cock like nothing else. It doesn’t hurt anymore, it simply feels wonderful. The stretch is nice. The girth and impressive length fills him up so well and because Jungkook put so much fucking lube up his ass, there is not even a hint of friction.

“How’s that, my doll?” Jungkook asks him, running his big hands along Taehyung’s soft sides until he has his waist between his fingers.

“Faster, please”, Taehyung squeaks out.

“Like this?” Jungkook asks as his hips pick up speed skilfully. He keeps Taehyung pinned down with both hands on his lower back and his huge thighs caging in Taehyung’s.

“Kook, Koo-ook, oh god Kook!” Taehyung moans, throwing his head back as best as possible.

“That’s so much better. Fuck, I love fucking your ass when it’s like that”, Jungkook growls, drilling his huge cock up his boyfriend’s noisy hole, “don’t give me any of that unprepared, tight shit. Fuck, I love it most when you’re stretched. So fucking good, you’re such a good fucking property. Fuck.”

“Owner, ah Owner please.”

“Please what? Use your words.”

“Harder. Please!”

“You drive me fucking insane”, Jungkook growls and puts strength into his fast movements. Skin slaps against skin, lube spreads everywhere.

Taehyung wails, convulsing under him in pure ecstasy. He is getting drilled like a fucking animal. His hole keeps squirting lube, his ass keeps jiggling with each impact. He can feel Jungkook’s hip bones bruise his ass. It will begin hurting soon. Good. That means he is getting fucked hard and fast.

“Harder please! Harder!”

“Urgh Tae”, Jungkook spits and bares his fangs in an angry scowl. He doesn’t hold back anymore. He isn’t human and neither is Taehyung. There is no fragility needing to be considered, no weak bones or long healing times. Jungkook doesn’t need to hold back and it’s fucking glorious.

The marble under his knees cracks and breaks, forcing him to sink just a little deeper into Taehyung because of the sudden dent in the floor. Jungkook growls, breaking marble again as his toes try to grip.

“Fuck Tae. Fuck”, he spits, chasing the ecstasy of being so fucking free. No restraints. No fucking restraints. Freedom. Hot, wet freedom lies right between Taehyung’s legs and he is the only one getting it. He is getting all of it. Fucking all of it.

Taehyung wails, clawing at the rug because somehow he still hadn’t expected Jungkook to go so berserk on him. He wanted it, knew that Jungkook could do it and yet he still wasn’t ready. It feels so good that Taehyung swears he is in a constant state of orgasmic bliss. That would explain why his prostate burns so much and why his stomach keeps convulsing.

“You’re making my fucking cock grow. Holy fuck, Tae”, Jungkook growls and Taehyung swears he might rip his hole apart.

He reaches behind himself, clawing at Jungkook’s wrists until the younger vampire takes his hands and pins them above his head. He growls above him like a predator, drilling his fully grown vampire cock into his hole. Not an inch he leaves out. Not an inch misses out on Taehyung’s wet, burning insides.

“Stay still”, Jungkook commands in a demonic voice. He breathes in through gritted teeth, making a deep grumbling sound as he does. He breathes out, the grumbling is louder, bordering that of a growl.

“Big.”

“Yeah, I’m big. So fucking big”, Jungkook hisses and squeezes Taehyung’s wrists together, “take me. Take all of me. You’re my property. Holy fuck, I fucking own you. You’re mine. Mine. Mine. Mine”, his voice loses more and more of its humanity the longer he chants.

Taehyung is crying at this point, drooling into the rug as his nose becomes a snotty mess. It is obvious by now, he can’t stop fucking cumming. Jungkook’s cock is so big. His hips are punishing. His grip possessive and his words territorial. It makes Taehyung cum without a break in between.

“Mine. You’re mine. Mine, urgh Tae”, Jungkook growls and gives in. He buries his fangs deep in Taehyung’s neck, forcing the older vampire to scream up in a mixture of shock, pleasure and discomfort.

Taehyung tries to flee, writhe away, get the fangs out his neck. Jungkook doesn’t let him shake him off. He slams his hand onto the back of Taehyung’s head and applies pressure. The fangs in his neck grow, his cock does as well. Jungkook is losing his humanity. Even the last little bit of it. He is an animal, a monster. This is his truest form.

Jungkook growls and huffs out air like an angry bull, sucking on Taehyung’s neck as if his life depended on it.

Sudden acidic burning fills Taehyung’s veins. It truly hurts, forcing him to writhe under Jungkook helplessly. And the most fucked up part of it? Taehyung has to fucking squirt because of it. He reaches behind himself and twists Jungkook’s hair to pull him tighter to his neck while his own grown cock squirts into the rug.

Jungkook growls and moans, shooting his acid deep into Taehyung’s neck just as his huge cock shoots far up his ass. His. Taehyung is his. He makes sure that his body remembers in more ways than one. Pumped full of his cum and his acid, Taehyung is truly and perfectly marked as Jungkook’s possession.

Jungkook tenses up soon, dropping onto Taehyung as paralysation sets in. His huge cock is still throbbing inside him, his mouth is open and leaking saliva diluted blood all over Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung is destined to lie still and let Jungkook regain his control. He is heavy and stiff on top of him, his hot breath smells like blood and acid. Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut, crying softly. He is owned. He loves being owned. This just healed him. To be a prey so desired, to be devoured and brought to his limits. Taehyung feels so beautiful knowing that he could get Jungkook to lose control in such ways. He was desirable to him. He was good. Taehyung feels so beautiful and loved. So, so loved.

Jungkook begins moving soon, huffing out growled breaths as he pushes himself up onto his hands. He is still dripping blood from his mouth, his face is contorted into his truest form. Taehyung stays still, not daring to move and check up on him. Jungkook sounds scary and Taehyung has been reduced to a trembling, scared little thing. A happy thing, but scared nonetheless.

Jungkook pulls out of Taehyung’s ass and grips the lube bottle. He flips it to the bottle side and pushes it into Taehyung’s gaped asshole. This is calculated. This had a reason. Taehyung shouldn’t close up yet, he shouldn’t lose Jungkook’s cum. The bottle was the only thing big enough to fill his gape.

Taehyung whimpers, writhing helplessly.

“Don’t move. If I come back and see you having spilled my cum, I’m gonna hurt you till you’re crying. Got it?” Jungkook commands in a demonic voice and gives the bottle a soft push.

“Yes”, Taehyung squeaks.

“Good. Pray to my fucking name until I’m back”, Jungkook orders and stands up to leave Taehyung fucked and used up on the rug.

He is stumbling and panting, using furniture and walls to support himself. Humanity has to return to him. Jungkook is fighting the voices on his way outside.

Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut and does what Jungkook asked him to do. He starts praying. Praying to Jungkook’s name as if his life depended on it. The bottle in his ass is cold and therefore hurts. Jungkook shoved it so far up his ass that it is impossible to push it out. Not that he wants to push it out. It isn’t Jungkook’s cock though. Taehyung begins trembling as he begins missing him.

As if he sensed his boyfriend’s longing, Jungkook returns. He kneels down behind Taehyung and touches his lower back.

“You kept it inside. Good job”, he praises and pulls the bottle outside.

Taehyung hole makes a slutty sound and stays gaping. Part of his insides is showing itself to Jungkook. The latter traces it with his fingers, forcing whimpers out of Taehyung.

“I love when you gape”, Jungkook says and touches his thick rim with the tip of a buttplug.

Taehyung tenses up, arching into the toy. He knows what it is. He can’t wait for it.

Jungkook stops teasing and pushes. His gaped hole takes the toy easily, closing snug around it. It is a huge toy, but it is the only toy which could possibly fit right now. Jungkook shifts it from side to side until he is happy with its placement, then dances his hand to Taehyung’s inner thigh.

“There we go, now you’ll stay my property until I set you free”, he says and flips Taehyung with a push to his thigh.

Taehyung rolls over happily, looking up at Jungkook with glassy, devoted eyes. The latter continues caressing his inner thighs studying his cum covered cock and messy stomach. His vampiric face looks back at Taehyung. Black blood covers his chin, neck and parts of his chest.

“This wasn’t the last time I pump into you”, Jungkook says, “got it? The night’s still young and the estate’s empty for another three days. You’re gonna leak my cum for a week once I’m done with you.”

Taehyung whimpers, nodding his head obediently.

“Good that you understand.”

Taehyung lowers his eyes.

“You’re a bully.”

“You get off on it.”

Taehyung glances at him. Jungkook’s hard expression softens. Humanity returns to his eyes.

“How are you doing?” he asks him, massaging his waist gently.

“Ruined. I feel used up.”

“You are. I used you up”, Jungkook says and climbs over Taehyung. He takes the latter’s hands and pins them above his head, looking down at him with warm eyes, “but I own you, so I can do whatever I want with you.”

“You fed from me.”

“You always say that I can.”

“You can”, Taehyung blinks tears away, “I feel your acid fight my healing.”

“Is it unbearable? I’ll suck it outta you.”

“It’s not. It’s proof.”

“Proof?”

“Proof that I’m yours. That I’m your possession”, he spills tears, “that you want me.”

“Tae”, Jungkook returns. The loving, soft-spoken Jungkook returns. He cradles Taehyung’s cheeks and wipes his tears. He kisses his trembling lips and kisses his closed lids until his lips taste nothing but salty tears, “Tae, of course I want you. Tae, come on. Of course I do.”

“I know”, Taehyung whispers and smiles, “I just need to know for myself. I was so scared that you would forget me.”

“You were?”

Their eyes meet, racing between each other as Jungkook keeps caressing his cheeks and Taehyung holds his waist. He is sitting on Taehyung’s stomach, putting weight on it.

Taehyung nods his head, “I’ve analysed every photograph you sent me. I’ve memorized every face which wasn’t yours. They all look like your type.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “you are my type. Our poly family is my type. Not them. They’re just people who like the same sport as me. You were never in danger.”

“I wasn’t?”

“Of course not. Why do you think I came here a week earlier than planned?”

“Because you wanted your bed back?”

“No silly, because I missed you”, Jungkook says, pinching his cheek softly.

“Really?” Taehyung breathes.

“Of course. God Tae, I could never forget you my silly boy”, Jungkook says and begins peppering his face with kisses.

“Really?”

“Of course, my baby. Have you looked at yourself?”

Taehyung lowers his eyes shyly, “I don’t know.”

Jungkook sits up and clicks his tongue in distaste, looking down at Taehyung with a disapproving gleam in his eyes, “good, now I know where I’m fucking you next.”

Taehyung gawks up at him with parted lips and bated breath.

“In front of the mirror so I can show you all the things I love about you.”

“Oh”, Taehyung lets out and giggles.

Jungkook scrunches his nose, chuckling fondly. He pinches Taehyung’s cheek, leaning down to kiss it afterwards.

“You’re cute. I love you, my teddybear.”

“I love you too, my snugglebunny.”

The two vampires exchange a giddy look before Jungkook can’t take it anymore. He climbs off of Taehyung for the sole reason of picking him up bridal style.

“Where are we going?” Taehyung gasps, pressing himself closer instinctively.

“In front of the mirror. We’re continuing. I promise to be gentle this time around.”

“Already?”

“Got a problem with that?”

“No”, Taehyung giggles and leans his head onto Jungkook’s shoulder, “no, I don’t.”

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bullet-prooflove · 29 days

Text

One Night Stand - Richie Jerimovich x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @rita-lean @yousigned-upforthis @factualfic @ayeeeee-ayeeeeeeeeeeee

Companion piece to: All The Good Ones Are

Richie isn’t looking to meet someone.

He’s in the midst of a horrible divorce, his wife doesn’t love him anymore, his daughter is in pieces and he’s just trying to get through the fucking day without murdering one of the shitheads he works with when the woman next to him outside The Buzzard asks him for a light.

It’s as he leans in close, using the end of his cigarette to ignite yours that he realises just how beautiful you are.

“Let me buy you a drink in return for the light.” You say as he’s finishing up his smoke and Richie, he can’t help but oblige.

You spend the evening propping up the bar, he tells you his Bill Murray story and you spend the next couple of hours listening and then relistening to his voicemail trying to decipher if it is Bill Murray of if Richie is just a really good impressionist.

The jury is still out when you take him home that night. The two of you step outside the bar after last call and he’s just about to light another cigarette when you rise up on tiptoes and kiss him. He doesn’t expect it because he’s just spent the past couple of hours explaining how much of a mess he is.

“Who isn’t?” You respond, your fingertips ghosting along the collar of his jacket. “You think I’ve got all my shit together?”

No, he knows you don’t because he’s not the only one going through a divorce, he’s not the only one that feels unwanted.

It’s meant to be a quick fuck, something to provide a little relief against that horrible crushing feeling in his chest but it turns into something more because you, you just have this way about you.

For Richie, there’s always been a desperation in the act. He craves intimacy, a sense of connection but he never gets it, especially not in the final days of his marriage. It was always raw, always angry, Tiffany would get up as soon as she was done, retreat to the bathroom, leaving him spent in the sheets wondering what the fuck he’d done wrong now.

It isn’t like that with you. It’s light-hearted, filled with smiles and laugher as the two of undress each other. Instead of wham, bam, thank you Richie, it becomes an exploration. Gentle lingering touches that chase over every part of his body, and heated lips that have him gripping the sheets in his fists.

“You’re not used to being taken care of.” You murmur as you straddle his lap. His skin’s flushed, his dick leaking and already he’s looking at you like he’s just seen God.

“No I’m not.” He admits, burying his face into the hollow of your throat as you sink down onto him inch by inch.

There is nothing in this world that rivals the sensation of being inside of you. It’s not just how fucking good your cunt feels wrapped around him, it’s everything. The eye contact as you fuck him, the way you cling to him when he hits that sweet spot, the one that drives you absolutely crazy. He wants to stay like this forever, locked in this perfect moment but then you start to tighten around him and Richie, he’s fighting a losing battle because you can’t stop the rising tide.

You come together, his release spilling into you as you cry out his name and it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.

“I’ll go in a minute.” He promises you as he collapses back into your sheets, still tangled up in you. “I just need to catch my breath.”

“There’s no rush.” You tell him, your lips brushing over the space where his heart resides.

He doesn’t intend to stay the night, he just feels so relaxed and you feel so perfect tucked against him, your face buried into the curve of his neck. He falls asleep, feeling wanted, feeling safe.

He’s late to work the next morning. You’d had him again in the shower before you left for work and Richie’s still riding the high when he steps through the door of The Beef wearing a smile and yesterday’s clothes.

“You’ve met someone.” Tina says as she chops potatoes at her station and he can’t keep the blush from creeping up his cheeks. “It looks good on you.”

“Maybe.” He says, his palm rubbing over the back of his neck. “It’s early days.”

He texts you when he gets off shift that night. He’s spend the whole day trying to come up with the perfect message and he keeps fucking it up so he goes for the direct approach.

What are you doing tonight? He asks, lingering outside The Beef as he awaits your reply.

You hopefully. You respond and he laughs because this thing between the two of you, he already knows it’s going to go the distance.

Love Richie? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #the bear fx #the #bear #Richard Richie Jerimovich #Richard Richie Jerimovich x reader #richard jerimovich #richard jerimovich x reader

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galactic-magick · 12 days

Note

here i come with arcane prompts bestie >:3

but this one might hurt ;-;

also SPOILERS FOR S1 IF ANYONE HASNT SEEN IT YET

/////

how about a reader's reaction to the council getting bombed O_O

their frantic attempts to find their lover(Viktor ofc :3), but who they find may not be the man they once knew TwT

I got a little carried away with this one bestie...

I Thought You Were Dead: Viktor x Reader

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Smut about halfway through. I put a *** before the smut starts in case anyone doesn't want to read that part. Reader has afab anatomy but no pronouns or feminine specific endearments are used. Also LORE SPOILERS, if you don't know what happens to Viktor in the League of Legends lore then don't read this!!

Author's Notes: This could be read as a part 2 to my other Viktor fic Nights Like This, which takes place in Act 1 whereas this takes place after season 1.

The explosion was deafening.

You can feel your soul sink as soon as you step outside your house, watching the smoke surround the council building. Your feet start running before you’ve processed anything, pushing through the gasping crowds in the streets with their eyes glued to the same devastating spectacle.

Tears stream down your face against the dusty wind, praying to anyone who will listen that your worst fear hasn’t happened. Running as if getting there faster might change the outcome.

It can’t end like this. Not when you haven’t said everything you want to say. Not when you have so much left to do together.

Not when you haven’t said goodbye.

The truth is, you haven’t even seen your husband in several days, maybe even a whole week. He’s been distant lately, so consumed by his experiments that he rarely comes home anymore. You knew what you were getting into marrying a scientist, especially the finest scientist in Piltover, but it still hurts. It hurts to see him driving himself mad and getting sicker, refusing to let you take care of him like he used to. He doesn’t like when you come to visit him at the lab because it’s too dangerous, and he doesn’t come home because he wants to be in the lab—so you’ve stopped trying. You can’t bear to see him hardly eat or sleep for days. You know he loves you, and you still love him, but right now there’s no getting through to him, and all you can do is wait it out until he either comes to his senses or succumbs to his torturous research.

Your mind flashes back to all the fights you had, begging him to come home, begging him to let you stay by his side. You both said things you shouldn’t have, hearts torn apart in mourning of a marriage that once was so perfect. You miss the nights where you were each other's safe space, where the world didn’t feel so grand and overwhelming. You wonder when it was exactly that you stopped fighting, when you gave up on begging and simply loved him as much as you could whenever you finally saw him.

A large battalion of enforcers encircle the scene, pushing back civilians as they attempt to view what happened. The rubble has fallen into mountains, several of them on fire.

You know he was in there. He must’ve been.

“Where are the survivors?!” you demand, shoving against the enforcers.

“We have not found any yet. Please return to your home-”

You pull out the knife you keep in your pocket for emergencies, pressing it against the enforcer’s throat, “My husband was in there. I am not leaving until I find him.”

The other enforcers turn their weapons towards you, and you quickly realize you’ll never beat them with nothing but a dagger and deep rooted rage.

You drop the knife to the ground and put your hands up, awaiting your fate. Would they kill you? Send you home with a warning? Trial you?

Well, not without a council.

“Please…” the sobs return, their weapons still pointing at you. “I just want to know if he’s alive. Just let me look for his body-”

You’re cut off by hands on your wrists and mouth, handcuffing you and knocking you out.

Several months later...

You should’ve known any retaliation against an enforcer could get you thrown in here.

Back against the stone wall of your cell in Stillwater, you envision that day once again, hating yourself for being so stupid. Without the council, the enforcers have started throwing literally anyone in here. In an attempt to contain the chaos of no longer having a government, even the smallest crime or protest is equivalent to murder. All you did was threaten an officer for information on your husband, but that was enough to banish you from any possibility of ever seeing him again.

If he was alive, would he know to come find you? Or would he go back home to find you gone and assume you died? Would he throw himself back into his research regardless of the tragic accident, not even noticing you haven’t tried to visit him in months?

Most days it’s easier to just tell yourself he’s dead. The man you loved so deeply no longer exists, and you’ll never love again. This is your life now, cold and dark and hopeless.

You sink to the floor, leaning on your side in an effort to get some sleep.

Though your slumber is awakened not long after by terrifying noises down the hall.

A collection of screams, an alarm bell, and loud clanging fill your ears. You jump up, looking through the bars of your cell to get a glimpse. You see nothing, but then begin to hear stomping footsteps thundering towards your end of the hall.

You stumble back to the far wall, shaking as the footsteps get closer.

The first thing you see is a pair of glowing orange eyes staring at you through the bars, and your breath leaves your lungs.

Is this really how you’re fated to die?

With ease, the mysterious figure rips off the door with what looks like a mechanical arm. The dim light hits him, and your entire body trembles. He’s covered in metal plating and armor, his face covered with a thick mask. He doesn’t strike you as human, except for what looks like human hair falling around his head.

He walks towards you, and you cower in his shadow. What does this machine want from you? You have nothing.

He says your name, and you freeze. It’s modulated and echoed from the mask, but you are certain that’s what he said.

And you’re also certain you’ve heard that voice before.

The figure reaches his hand towards you, the cold metal of his fingers touching your face. It tingles, as if there’s energy sparking through. His other hand lifts off his mask and drops it to the floor.

“Viktor?”

Parts of his face are covered with metal plating, but it’s undoubtedly him. Same eyes, same nose, same cheekbones. His hair swooping down the sides of his forehead and the small gap between his teeth.

You throw your arms around him and kiss him, your body hitting his metal torso hard enough to leave a bruise, but you don’t care. You kiss him until there’s not a single atom of oxygen left in your lungs, and even then you risk a few seconds more, his lips worthy of causing suffocation. Your fingers slide into his hair, just as soft as your remember. He gently embraces you back, wary of hurting you with how tightly he wishes to hold you.

“Viktor—I went to find you that day—“ you pant for air. “I thought you were dead—“

“I know, darling, I know,” he kisses your forehead before fervently returning to your lips. “I thought you were dead too before I heard word of people being sent here.”

He breaks apart from you and you let out a soft whine, “Vik-”

“I have to get you out of here now, okay?”

You nod in understanding and grab onto him as he puts his mask back on. He races back down the hall, pushing any leftover guards out of his way. You cling onto him, in disbelief that he moves so fast with ease. So many questions run through your mind, but you know you’ll have to wait for answers.

He carries and holds you in silence until you both get to safety. You don’t recognize the place he’s taken you to, but it’s undoubtedly his space. The tools and gadgets all over the tables and walls, the dim light you don’t understand how anyone could work under, the journals with different equations written barely legibly. You wonder if your old home is still standing or has been taken by someone else. Either way, this is your home now.

With him.

He takes off his mask and you’re once again met with his beautiful face. Scarred and tired, but still more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him.

“I’m so sorry. For everything,” he says. “I know I will never be able to make it up to you, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I am never letting you leave my sight again.”

Your bodies instinctively wrap around each-other, him picking you up and setting you down on one of his desks. The sensation is so new, since he’s never been strong enough to lift you before. Despite the novelty though, it feels as if no time has passed, as if this is a routine you’ve done every day, his hands all over you as soon as you’re alone.

You want to ignore the insanity of all this, how the love of your life has returned to you encased in metal. You want to forego all the questions, letting him continue his kisses on your neck and the wandering fingers on your thigh. You wonder what he feels like now—if it’s different—if what he can do to you now will make you forget every tear you ever shed for him.

You sigh, completely drunk on his touches.

“Viktor…” You look into his eyes, tracing your thumbs along his now metallic jaw. “I want to know what happened to you. Please.”

His caresses slow, his focus shifting to your words, “I will tell you everything, I promise,”

You grasp his hands, “Then tell me.”

He exhales, looking down at himself. He doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t want to acknowledge the truth. He doesn’t want to risk you thinking of him differently or not loving him the same. Without you, he’d have nothing left to stay human for.

After all, he’s more machine than man now.

“I was as good as dead,” he finally says. “My injuries should’ve killed me, but an old…” he hesitates, “...friend found me. He helped me use hextech and shimmer to fix and augment my body. I’m stronger now, I can help more people now, I can protect you now. I’ve evolved beyond my human ailments-”

“Viktor,” you interrupt him. “Who helped you?”

He falls silent, fully aware you already know the answer.

“How could you?” you scold him. “How could you go back to that horrid, vile man? Who knows what he really did to you?”

“Singed may have unethical methods, but I assure you I’d be dead right now without him. You wouldn’t understand-”

“I understand that he sees you as nothing more than an experiment! What’s going to happen when this new body starts to break down? He’ll replace you with more mechanical parts until there’s nothing left of you. He does anything to make his specimens survive, and you know that!”

“So you’d rather me be dead? You’d rather still be in Stillwater, rotting your days away in misery?”

The floodgates of your glassy eyes break, and you let out the ugliest of sobs that have been building up for too long. No, you don’t want him dead, of course you don’t.

But there are fates worse than death.

You clumsily grab for him, pulling him between your legs and surrounding him with your limbs. Your lips crash together once more, this time more carnal and aggressive. Regardless of how angry you are, you can’t deny that you need him desperately. He cradles your face, wiping your tears away as they fall.

“Just promise me…” you beg into his mouth. “Promise me you won’t go back there again. Stay with me.”

“I promise,” he hums. “But you have to promise me something too.”

“What?” your eyes are already fluttering deliriously.

“You have to promise you’ll let me apologize every day of the rest of our lives,” he brushes his lips against your ear while his hands wander up your shirt, “And I think I know how you want me to do it.”

Your eyes widen, shivers already running down your spine.

***

It’s been so long, your body yearning for his as if you’ve been deprived from him for an eternity. You want to feel his new hands everywhere, his new fingers inside you…

Viktor wastes no time stripping you down, your shirt and bra flung across the room. He buries his face between your breasts for a moment before hoisting you up again, carrying you to the mattress in the corner.

“Since when do you ever have a proper place to sleep in your labs?” you laugh, sinking into the unexpected comfort.

“I didn’t get it for sleeping,” he smirks, placing kisses across your chest and shoulders, “I knew what I wanted to do as soon as I rescued you.”

“You’re telling me you got this bed just to fuck me?”

“Of course,” he shrugs, completely matter-of-factually.

You chuckle, a genuine smile stretching across your face so wide it almost hurts. You haven’t laughed or felt the pure joy and bliss of being in love in so long.

“I…” Viktor speaks again, hovering over you. “I don’t know fully what this new body can do. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” you smile, intertwining your fingers with his. “Is it...different?”

“Everything’s different,” he leans down to kiss you again. “Let’s just hope it’s in a good way.”

You nod enthusiastically, pulling him down to you. His cold metal torso presses against yours, a surprisingly pleasant sensation. You quickly acclimate to the new textures of his figure, wondering if any skin still exists.

He remembers all the places you like to be touched and kissed, and you grow more impatient by the minute. You’ve needed him—ached for him. You want him in any way he can give you.

He pulls off the rest of your clothes, teasing his mechanical fingers in circles around your clit.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Mmhmm,” you moan, slithering your own fingers into his hair.

Viktor’s always been good with his hands, being an inventor and all. He’s never once failed to satisfy you with his hands alone since you’ve been together, and he certainly wasn’t stopping now. He goes slowly, constantly needing reassurance that you’re alright. There’s nothing sharp about his fingers, a relief to both of you. They move just like his old flesh did, pulsing in and out with the finest precision. There’s moments where you feel a slight vibration, although you’re unsure if he’s doing that purposefully. Either way, he keeps you in ecstasy until you eventually come undone.

You pull his lips back up to yours immediately, craving his taste. His hands run down your body once again before returning back to the same spot.

You yelp his name as he works more fingers inside you. This is unheard of, him going back for more so soon. You had grown accustomed to his low stamina from before, and you never minded multiple rounds being a rarity. But now there’s not a single hint of exhaustion on his face, his augments freeing him from much of the pain that used to plague him. Instead there’s determination in his eyes, a drive to make love to you until you can’t take it anymore.

He builds you up to your second orgasm of the night, kissing and holding you softly as you come down from it.

“Viktor…” you sigh, completely out of breath. “I want to make you feel good too.”

He shakes his head, watching as your hands slide down his body, “Darling, I...I’m not sure if everything works the same. You don’t have to worry about me—“

“Let me try,” you plead. “Does any of this come off?”

He nods, removing the outer layers of metal with clicks and hisses. It was hard for you to tell where the armor ended and his body began, but the more he takes off, the more you recognize his familiar silhouette. There’s still patches of flesh here and there—warm skin to your fingertips, fused with the augmentations flawlessly.

And it seems the area you’ve wanted to see is one of the places untouched.

Well, not completely untouched. It’s covered in glowing purple veins, throbbing like they’ll explode any second. Viktor looks into your eyes nervously, and you reassure him with a kiss.

“It’ll be okay,” your breaths are hot, hovering over his lips. “Now tell me what you want, darling.”

“You.” he moans as your hand takes hold of his hardness.

“Everything seems to be working fine to me,” you smile, lining him up with your entrance. “I’m ready when you are.”

He’s shaking, for the first time since all his enhancements. He’s been so strong—no—indestructible, yet one look at you and the vulnerability returns in crashing waves. He’s still the same man you fell in love with, but now he could too easily hurt you.

He presses in slowly, eyes locked on your expressions for any sign of discomfort, but they never come. Instead, the noises and faces you make could be enough for him to finish right then and there if he didn’t have such control.

“Viktor…” you sigh, pulling him towards you as he bottoms out. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

He stamps kisses on your jaw, then nuzzles his nose into your neck, “You feel even better than I remembered.”

“Do I now?” you chuckle, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes as he looks back up at you.

“Mmhmm,” he begins to thrust in and out slowly, earning more luscious sounds from your lips.

There’s so much of him that feels the same, but the sensation is so new. Is he bigger than before? Is it just the different texture from the shimmer experiments? You’re not sure, all you truly care about is that he feels divine.

You’re both getting close, whispering “I love you’s” until the long awaited release. He holds you tightly afterwards, refusing to let go until you both catch your breath.

“Viktor,” you ruffle his hair. “As amazing as that was, I don’t think I can handle a round four.”

He chuckles, “That’s alright. I’ll only go as long as you want me to. There’s always tomorrow.”

You giggle, kissing the top of his head. You push yourself up on your elbows, looking at the mess you both made, “I think we ruined your new mattress.”

He glances as well, noticing the cum stains, some of them a light purple color, a supposed side effect of the shimmer, “We’ll get a new one. For now lets get you cleaned up.”

He picks you up in one swift motion, carrying you outside. His new lab is conveniently next to the river, and far away enough from other houses to protect your decency. The water is cold, but not unbearably so. The stickiness rinses off, and you’re left to admire your lover once again in the moonlight.

He glistens under the stars, his gaze soft and sweet, just as it’s always been. His hands never leave you, caressing your wet skin gently and adoringly.

He’s still everything you’ve ever wanted. He’s still the man you’d die and kill for.

He’s still the one you’ll spend the rest of your days with, no matter what he becomes.

#viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor x reader #machine herald x reader #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #machine herald #arcane

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