#as the disinfectant is meant for the contact

[hikarinokusari]

My healing contact just broke in 2. I had one half on my eye going hurtfully crazy which I spent line idk what felt like half an hour to get away from eyes while not touching the eye. Tried fetching the other half just to lose it somewhere on the ground.

So no wonder i was like ... hurting. Lol.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Vampire Geto Suguru

A/N: Ok so this entire writing makes zero sense because it sounds like i'm making this a short story, but I realized like halfway through that there is no way for me to finish this unless it becomes a short story and I felt every single patient bone in my body disappear at the realization. So...it's gonna sound unfinished. But if you ask questions about Vampire Suguru x Half-Vampire Reader, I will answer questions. I want to answer all possible questions that can't be answered in this 'supposed-to-be-a-short-story.' Cuz it has amazing potential that my hands can't fulfill.

Suguru almost has everything he's ever wanted. Power. Local fame. And control over the city he could call his. His followers, devotees, were nothing but scum on the bottom of his shoe that he could scrape off anytime he wanted. In the heart of Tokyo, he owns a corporate building meant to attract wealthy families in hopes of healing them of their pains and sins. Almost like what a place of worship would be.

Near-wealthy men and women sit in the largest room the floor below the top floor, meant to sit there in honor of Geto blessing their eyes with his presence. He is all they need and nothing more. He often convinces the people who make an appointment with him that it's the same thing for them, as well. But he's good at manipulating.

Filthy rich men and women, sometimes entire families, come crawling to him to fix family problems, their perverted minds, their souls, their bodies, in hopes they'd be pure at the end of the night. Instead, they become his next meal. Peasant human blood tastes a little too rotten for his liking. So, he sticks to the next best thing. The poor should be thanking him for taking the load for them.

The only problem was that nowhere in Japan was there vampires. At least, not anyone past his bloodline. But he already erased them entirely. Human women reek of selfish desires, tainted iron in their blood, and sex. It's so clear what they want and he can never get past the smell. So, as far as the seas go, he's never seen someone he could busy his mind with for the next couple thousand of years. If not, eternity. But who knows how long his patience will last until then...?

His nose was guiding him somewhere, currently.

His feet following the invisible trail of the scent. The smell he's only picked up back when his bloodline was still alive. When they were in their prime. When they were farthest from their human counterparts. There's no way he could find what he's thinking of, right?

His nose led him into a small grocery store. Somewhere around the alleyways and crooked backstreets in between the tall buildings in Tokyo at 2 in the morning. Only his kind would be out at this time of night.

He walks in, the fluorescent light accentuating his pale skin and muscular figure. His black hair and clothing makes him stick out in the midst of the colorful food choices surrounding him. And in between the different smells of fresh ripe fruit and disinfectant chemicals, he could catch the natural musk of another him.

Another him.

Another vampire.

He ignores the cashier asking if he needed help and nearly speed-walked through one of the aisles, the scent only getting stronger. He grows more determined and turns the corner only to run into a shorter girl, dressed in black like he was. You both make eye contact.

You two share a very silent and quick understanding of who was in front of who. And who was what.

"Excuse me," You mutter.

You attempt to side-step him and ignore him like nothing ever happened, and he mirrors your movement, effectively blocking you.

You look back up at him, your eyes more piercing than the first time you made eye contact. He could see the color difference the moment you moved to look up at him. Now that he was close enough, he could also smell your irritation. You're not dead.....you're half-human. No wonder.

He clenches his jaw. He knows himself enough to understand that he wouldn't even consider letting you go, knowing he just found the first non-relative vampire in Japan since- he doesn't even know how long. Black coat, a neat white turtleneck and skirt underneath the coat. Leggings, socks, and shoes follow the black and white pattern. Original skin color being paler than usual. Somewhat of muscle definition hidden. He was scaring you. He can smell it. And your fangs are beginning to poke out. And can he hear you growling at him?

He finds himself smiling, pleased with how his night was now going. "I apologize for bumping into you. Please, allow me to pay for your-" You shoulder him hard enough to almost knock him into the stand of chips behind him. No one's showed him that amount of strength in a while. He follows close behind you, not letting the moment phase him.

You place your things on the front desk, and the cashier matches your pace, scared of the, now two, taller figures watching him do his job. Both you and Geto seemed to tower over him from across the counter, eyes unfaltering in their predatory stare. You just want to get the hell out of the store and Geto....he just doesn't like the guy. He squeaks out the total, and before you could dig in your purse fast enough to grab your wallet, Geto places his card on the counter. You don't even bother to turn around and just wait silently for the cashier to finish up. When the transaction is over, Geto moves to grab his card again and you're already halfway out the door, things in hand.

You don't look back, hoping he would finally stop pursuing you. Once you turn the corner, Geto's already there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. You let out a nasty hiss, nearly snarling at him and he raises his hands up. "I know. I'm not here to hurt you. I just...wanted to introduce myself." "I don't need your introduction. I know pretty clearly who you are. And what you are. Leave me the hell alone."

Geto's face dropped slightly when you tried to brush him off again and turned the other way with your groceries in hand. Once again, he's reminded of centuries of loneliness and his hand is already grabbing your arm. "Wait." You grunt in annoyance and slight fear. His man was a full vampire. You moved to Japan to avoid any kind of vampires. You wanted silence in your life from all kinds of people that would be after you to court you and kill you just because you're a half-breed. And the one time you thought you could finally have silence, there's a rich and powerful man in Japan who's almost like a Monk who can solve all problems of the modern man. And he's acting as if he's one of them, but turns out to be a pure blood. You didn't care if he told you sweet words.

You didn't want to die.

"Aren't you lonely? Being the only vampire in the city? I just want a companion. Someone who's like me. I don't want to sound desperate, but you're the only vampire I've meet in Japan in ages. Is friendship too much to ask for?"

You turn around, thankful for him letting go of you. "I left my hometown to escape all of the vampires coming after me. You being here is the only issue I have in Japan. Everything else is a blessing to come across. As much as I would like to help someone in need, all I want is to be alone."

Suguru wish he cared about your past as much as he cared for his own mental sanity.

For a half-blood, you were stronger than you let on. Getting you into the, very well decorated and furnished, basement was a hassle. You gave him a few nasty scars and ruined his shirt. But once you were thrown back through the heavy doors for the 4th time, you finally settled with the realization that you can't get past this man. Your ear piercing screams and bites turned into whimpers and cries as you attempted to comfort yourself in the corner of the cold room.

He felt bad. He didn't want you to be so...scared of him. But there's no other way for you to accept him. You tired yourself out and even broke one of your nails(it was already almost fully back) trying to escape.

Suguru sighed, discarding his tattered shirt. "I'm sorry things had to be this way. I do wish we can get along a little better when the time comes. But for now, it's just going to have to be like this." He sits on his old couch and sighs when one of his servants comes in with a pouch of blood. You watch her eye your captor down before smiling at him with the blood on a serving tray. "Good evening, Master-" Her voice obviously pitched to try and please him, when it did the exact opposite. You snarl and before she can finish her sentence, you tackle her to the ground, landing on the opposite side of the room.

She screams bloody murder as your nails dig into her skin, your mouth reaching for the crevice. She's never seen another one of you. Another vampire. She thought her master was the only one in the world, the only one meant to be considered and known. But here you were, ruining her ideologies. Killing her with your selfish nature. She wishes she could hurt you back, but you were bigger, stronger, and would haunt her in her worst nightmares in ways only Suguru said he could. You were everything he said he was. And she hated it.

Not like it mattered when your teeth breached her skin, sucking her unworthy blood for all she's known for. You groan at the taste of good blood for the first time in over 100 years. You stopped drinking blood back at home when you knew it'd get you nowhere, trying to hide. But you had a reason now. You had to leave this place.

Each swallow of warm iron made you feel brand new. You felt lighter. You felt energized. You felt angry that you stopped for so long. How stupid were you to give up something so good? Your outfit started to feel too tight. You were growing back to your natural height.

Suguru got up, watching you tear into his servant. He got a whiff of your scent once more, it was more potent, almost entirely different. He almost felt ashamed being turned on by it, but this is exactly what he wanted. Someone to indulge his fantasies in. You were perfect for him.

When you finished, you detached yourself from the girl's neck and stared at the dehydrated corpse underneath you. Suguru's voice was enhanced now that your hearing is back to how it's supposed to be. "I'll have someone discard the body." You ripped off the tight shoes on your feet and stood, meeting his eyes. You were a probably a couple of inches shorter than him. Definitely taller than you used to be.

"Let me go." You watched his eyes trail to your lips covered in blood and wanted to swipe him so bad. But you knew he was still stronger than you, even at full strength. You can smell it. (You would never admit he smelled so good.) Suguru smiles at your words. "I can't, Princess."

You step closer, almost attempting to size him up. "At least let me shower. Are you gonna neglect me of that, too?" "Only if I can't have the honors of doing it myself." You scoff, shouldering him on your way to the couch. He actually rubs his shoulder in pain this time. "If I let you bathe, you have to promise me that you won't try to escape. My home can only take so much damage." Suguru realizes he likes teasing you. "I'll let you prove yourself to me this one time. I hate that human scent lingering on you."

"I'm a half-breed." "You know that's different." You sigh this time, rubbing your face.

It's gonna be a while before you find a way to escape this lunatic.

[lorelune]

hell is a hound without a chain

|| blade x gn!reader || M || yandere wolf hybrid blade || wc: 3.8k  || ao3 ||

A bite is quite a burden.

minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni

a/n: folds hands man ... hybrid blade is sure something. i chewed on this au for a minute because truly hybrid blade is such a flavor. a toothy one. enjoy loves!!

CW: dark content, hybrid AU, wolf hybrid blade, yandere blade, reader is not a hybrid, biting, claiming bites, caretaking, victim blaming, injured reader, references to reader drinking casually

You ache.

Your neck hurts.

It’s hurt for the past few days, and you imagine it will continue to hurt for the next several weeks, considering that Blade is not allowing you to heal in any meaningful capacity.

You sit on the bathroom counter, a bit teary-eyed, with Blade standing between your legs. A scented candle sputters on a small shift. Blade’s tail swishes. Annoyed. Ears twitching and jaw locked. There’s a first aid kit open beside you and it's running low on gauze and antibiotic ointment.

You sniffle as Blade pats at the wound on your neck. He’s being… gentle. For him anyway. The contact and disinfectant still sting and you hiss at the sensation and jerk away.  

Blade stills.  

"I’ll bind you again." His hand cups your jaw— too tightly. "Would you like to force my hand?"

"No, n-not really.” You sound pathetic. You want to cry. You probably will. "It hurts. I'm sorry."

Blade sighs but doesn't press you. He trades the disinfectant for a slather of ointment and prepares a gauze pad. The piece he cuts is larger than normal. It’s the size of his palm. You suppress the urge to feel for the wound on your neck and check its size and depth. You haven't gotten a good look at it yet. Judging by the red stain soaking down the front of your shirt, it’s a worse wound than normal. 

Blade has made it a routine to freshen the bite mark on your neck at least once a week. He always sinks his teeth into the same spot while other, less severe marks decorate your throat and shoulders (and chest and stomach and thighs, but those are easier to dismiss.) The mark he worries the most, the one that you know he associates with some animalistic claim, is on your side, broken flesh splitting where your neck meets your shoulder.

...

You first... 'earned' it after leaving Blade to his own devices for a weekend. 

It was just a beach trip with a few friends. Kafka encouraged it— you needed to stretch your legs. ‘Bladie’ as she so affectionately referred to your hybrid, was more than capable of taking care of himself. He was doing so long before you came into the picture and formally offered your home up to him. Besides, he’d had several months to settle into your home, hadn’t he? Kafka goaded you into accepting a “well-deserved” break. Himeko seemed... hesitant about the arrangement at the time. She warned that hybrids can get a bit prickly about being left alone, even if they are independent. 

("They tend to hold grudges.")

The trip was a mistake. 

It had been a lovely weekend. Kafka had thrown her card down for a beachside cabana at a resort. Drinking sweet fruity cocktails, lounging in the sun, and generally relaxing. It was... nice to be out and not worried about Blade. He knew where you were. He had a phone with an internet connection that he knew he could use, and he didn't bother to contact you. You figured he was enjoying the break from his typical vigilance. Perhaps he was enjoying not having an owner to stalk around and guard.

You were wrong. Wildly.

The moment you arrived home (you hadn't even set your bags down—), Blade was on you. Pressed into your own door, he growled and spat that you smelled “wrong”. You asked him what he meant— you nervously joked you could take a quick shower and make dinner. Whatever he wanted. Your voice had trembled, and your breath had started coming too quickly. 

His gaze pierced you a moment later, a growl ripping from his mouth, lips curling back. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the way he grabbed your jaw, jerked your head to the side, and buried his teeth in your neck. He covered your mouth with his palm when you screamed. Muffled any shout or cry for help. You knew Blade was strong, but you hadn't ever realized how strong. You were immobilized between him and his teeth and the door.

By the time he withdrew and lapped at the wound he'd made, you were sobbing, scrambling to get away, run, shut yourself in your room, and try to figure out how the fuck to handle this situation—   but Blade hadn't let you far. He cleaned the wound first with his tongue, then a damp rag, then dressed it properly as has become routine. He carried you to bed and curled around you. Arms locked around your waist, legs tangled. It would’ve been sweet if he was your lover.

(But, he is not. He is a wolf you foolishly allowed into your home.)

The reality of your situation began to sink in then. Slowly. Bit by bit. 

Blade freshens the bite about once a week, give or take. If he's feeling antsy, it's less. If you're more compliant, more tethered to home, or dare to take him in public with you, he leaves it alone. Allows it to almost heal before digging his canines into the rapidly thickening layers of scar tissue.

It's awful of him, but you don’t think he'll ever stop now that he's intent on marking you. You had been stupid to think of yourself as anything other than a claim to him, hadn't you?

A few tears drip down your cheeks as Blade secures the dressings. He dabs them away with the side of his finger, careful not to scratch you with his blackened claws. He brackets you in on your sides. He tips his forehead against yours and deflates.

"Bed," he says. It's something akin to a request. He'll take you there, anyway, but being given a warning feels like a luxury.

"Okay." Your voice is quiet. Scratchy from shrieking against his palm less than an hour before.

Blade scoops you up and ferries you to bed. He pauses to throw an extra blanket onto his... nest (even if it's on your bed). It’s a quilt he favors, worn through but soft. His preference for it would be endearing under different circumstances. 

He runs a hand through your hair, trailing his touch down to the wet collar of your shirt, “You need to change. You’re dirty.”

As is routine, he pulls your shirt off as you squirm. You lightly shove at his chest, if only to make yourself feel better. Resist a little for your own pride, despite knowing it’s useless. Your modesty doesn’t matter to Blade (not if it’s just him and you in the room. He’s permitted himself to your skin in the most non-traditional ways.) Regardless, you aren’t bare for long. He replaces your shirt with his own. It’s warm and too big. His frame is almost inhuman, and it gapes around your shoulders.

Blade cajoles you to the headboard and lets you fuss a bit along the way. He sits behind 

you and settles you between his thighs. The knit blanket is pulled over your lap and his arms wind around your waist, unyielding. Locking you there. Blade tucks his face into your neck on the... less injured side. He scents you there with a half-there growl. 

You rub at your puffy eyes. Your chest hurts.

"You need to rest." Blade tells you. He tells you this often. He's more in tune with your physical state than you are these days, so you appreciate the reminders. You feel half out of your body. 

"... Oh yeah?" you laugh, voice wobbly. "I should, huh? Don't I need to make dinner?"

"Unnecessary." Blade replies. He squeezes you. "You need to rest, first. I will prepare a meal."

"... Sure." Blade doesn’t do particularly well in the kitchen. "I can rest, then cook, okay? If you can wait that long? Otherwise, I can cook then rest later too—"

Then Blade really growls. It’s the kind that you feel between your ribs and makes you go stiff. His mouth opens, too hot against the fragile skin near your neck, and the points of his canines rest. Idle. You start to shake. 

"You will rest." Blade tells you. "I... went too harshly on you. You are weak. You need to rest. I will cook so you do not need to. I cannot guarantee that it will be any good, but you should not be on your feet."

You laugh. something rotten curls in your belly.

There’s care in the way that Blade speaks about you. He rarely speaks in such a forward way— it’s hard for him. You can hear how he struggles between certain words. How the sentences are harder for him to construct. The sentiment of care is not easy for him. This makes sense— as he is a wolf that has you in his jaws. There is not care in slaughter. An animal’s claim is just that. A claim. Baseless. Primal. A twitch that follows an instinct, maybe. 

Hearing him say things that could be kind makes you want to vomit.

You dig your nails into Blade's forearms. His hold constricts.

"Why would you care?" You snap. "Don't act like you give a shit about my wellbeing, as if you didn't just take a fucking chunk out of me."

It's the wrong thing to say. You know this. It’s better to not anger him. But it's hard to care when you’re this tired and worn down. Self-preservation is an afterthought. You feel spiteful, terrified tears burn your eyes. You wait for a wolf’s violence as Blade tenses and goes still behind you.

Preparing for the kill, you presume.

Instead, however, his mouth closes, and soft lips press into your throat. No teeth. No apparent ire. No mouthy attitude. And he stays quiet. Somehow drags you closer into the solid, warm line of his front. He is solid, maybe a little softer than when he first moved in with you. 

"My mark on you is protection, even if you do not realize it." Blade tells you. You figured as much, but it doesn't justify it. "Anyone who smells or sees you knows that you are claimed."

"Yeah, so everyone knows I've got some bully of a wolf at home, ready to tear my throat out?"

(You've read his file, you know he's capable of it.)

"I wouldn't." Blade's voice grates, low and angry. “I... I wouldn't. Not to you."

"If you say so."

"I mean it." He punctuates it with a kiss. He's half-hard against your lower back and you swallow. "I... I do not know how else to convey to you that you are cared for. That you are mine."

(You’re not sure you believe him. There are other, crueler ways he could. On your more anxiety-ridden nights, you’re grateful that Blade’s touch hasn’t strayed there. Never. He hasn’t ever touched you like that, with that part of him. Anything below your neckline is all teeth and tongue. Violence is his language of physicality, you've found. Pleasure he seems foreign to.)

"I'm yours?" You dig your nails in and his tail slaps the bed. good. You'll bear the consequences later. Best to get it all out of your system. "When did I agree to this?"

Blade thinks, for a moment. You doubt he'll be able to find when you did agree because you haven't.

"You allowed me into your home. Bed. I wear a collar with your name on it when I must leave this place." Blade tells you. His hand cups your chin, turning your face toward his, and his nails tease over your cheeks. "What did you think all of that meant?"

Your stomach drops. 

"... A kindness?"

“An offering." He corrects. He noses into your jaw, scenting again. His touch drifts under your soft shirt, resting over your tummy. "One that was accepted."

"Oh."

It hits you. All of it. Awareness is like being dunked in ice water, suffocating on it, and throwing it back up. Kafka had once warned you that hybrids think so differently from humans. You figured the differences would be... obvious. Easy to sort through.

You were, once again, so wrong.

You want to tell Blade that that's not what you meant. That you opened your home and heart because he was a beaten down stray who clearly needed a home— one where he was the only one of his kind. Where he had the attention he needed to thrive, and the space to do so too. That you signed your name on the necessary paperwork not as a proposition but as a gesture of care. 

In the same moment, you realize that even if you do tell all of this to Blade, it wouldn’t matter. This misunderstanding has been steeping for months beyond your control. You feel stupid. Foolish. So naive it hurts. There’s a bite mark dug into the flesh of your neck that will never really scar. If Blade can help it, it will never fully heal. You’ll bear it bloody... forever. 

“You smell wrong.” Blade huffs against your neck. He squeezes over your hips, rubbing little circles into the soft flesh.

Can he smell when you’re upset?

Probably. Blade always got particularly cagey when you would return home from the rare trip into the office. You were always exhausted, on edge, and overstimulated from a full day of endless everything. Blade would follow you around on those days, never letting you out of his sight. He’d wrap you up in blankets from his bed. Shove you in his clothes. Hand-fed you in his lap despite the fact his hands were too big and arthritic. 

Was that care? 

(So, so clearly.)

You don't realize you're on the verge of tears until you open your mouth to speak and nothing comes out but a wounded, awful cry. Like you're the pained animal and not Blade. 

"Hush." Blade tells you. He smooths your shirt— his shirt over your front, over your chest in a way that makes your breath hitch and squirm uncomfortably. He’s burning hot against your back. "You are safe. You can rest now."

Is that care?

Tears slip from the corners of your eyes. They’re angry, tired, and sad all at once. You try to suck them down the best you can.

Blade pulls you at you, sinking you into the sheets. He spoons you, flush against your back, hot and soft in all the ways that matter. You bury your face into your pillow when he runs a soothing, clawed hand up and down the back of your neck.

For a moment, you consider your options. It’s immediately overwhelming. Defeating. 

You know that there is nothing you can do about your position. You could rear up, slap Blade, and scramble for the door. There are organizations. Sections of government that handle situations like this. You might be able to get to your phone. At least text someone that things have gotten out of hand.

You also know that Blade would not allow this. He'd not allow you out of bed, let alone this room. He'd have you pinned, belly to the bed with a hand dug into your hair to brace you there. He'd let you squirm and kick and scream. He'd bruise you in return— leave his own marks. another set of molted hickeys across your shoulders.

He'd probably push at the freshly bloodied claim on your neck too. Never mind that he just patched you up. 

It's hopeless, and the knowledge hits you so hard that you feel winded. You scramble against the bed to grab onto the sheets, and you cry. It’s in your chest. You sob and cry so hard it hurts. The sounds you are making are ugly and broken. The feeling between your eyes is burgeoning into an acidic headache, and your mouth is somehow dry even as you get spit on the soft sheets. 

Despair is not beautiful. It’s toxic and infecting. 

Despite this, Blade does not move away. He is steadfast, and curls overtop of you. He hushes you with his simple, curt words and a low rumble in his chest that's hard to identify. It soothes something in your hindbrain you wish you could kill. His lips press into your hair. His touch is solid, bruising, but not maiming

Violence... shouldn't be comforting.

And yet— yet it is. When the tears come slower, and morph into hiccups as you desperately try and catch your breath, Blade... helps, you realize. His mane of hair spills over your face, like a curtain to darken the room. His hand slips to your front, under your shirt once more so it's his palm against the clammy skin of your chest.

"Breathe." He tells you. It's a command. "Like this."

His hand strokes up and down, in time with his own slow, deep breaths. There's the terrifying edge of his claws, blackened and sharpened, but they never cut in enough to gore. Only enough to remind you that they’re sharp— to maim, to protect— (what’s the difference to a wolf like him?) You're drained, and you can only follow his lead, sucking in breaths that become more steady with each one.

There's nothing left in you by the time you settle. You're wrung out, emptied and so tired. It's clarifying, maybe. As Blade pets you into sleep, you shakily bring a hand to press over the covered, weeping wound in your neck. A full moon of teeth marks. Even the light touch aches.

Blade nips at your hand, nosing it away. 

(How terrible, really. To be cared for by a beast who believes love and violence are one in the same. How terribly idiotic of you to not notice. How... cruel of Kafka for never connecting the dots for you. You’re sure she must’ve taken note, at some point, of Blade’s claim on you and its implications. She was once in your position, but knowing her own disposition, Blade never took her like he’s taken you.)

(Himeko probably noticed as well. But, she’s the type to only step in if she thinks she can make a difference. She has her own self-preservation in mind, and you can respect that. Mostly. Perhaps she saw Blade’s claim taking shape and realized that a Wolf’s bite is not something she had the claws to interfere with. She has her own hybrids to take care of. You ignored her words of caution in the beginning when she first offered them.)

(It’s hard to fault her.)

(And how can you fault Blade for his instincts? Perhaps you were too kind. You lacked caution— self-preservation— whatever you wish to call it. You put your own soft throat in the line of Blade’s bite. In retrospect, it’s frighteningly clear. It guts you. Over and over. The only thing that tethers you is Blade’s touch and breath against your neck. A reminder.)

(A reminder that you are his to tug and push and pull as he pleases. That he’ll leave bite marks where he desires, never to gore, but to show that you’re... protected.)

Isn’t there something alluring about that? 

It makes you shake all over again. It makes you muffle a fresh sob into your pillow and you beat your fists against the mattress. Blade lets out a growly word or two you can’t make out as he pins your wrists to the mattress.

It makes sense, now, why Blade always wanted to accompany you out on errands, if only to growl and bark at anyone who looked at you too long. You had thought he was just poorly socialized (partially true) — but he was snapping at strangers to make sure no one even thought of looking at you for too long. Let alone touch. Pursue. 

You have a hazy memory of a night at the cocktail bar. Kafka had asked you to come alone— ‘girls night’ again. Blade had given you the cold shoulder when you told him sheepishly that you’d be leaving him at home. Whatever alcohol dulls the memory, but you can recall Blade had thrown you over his shoulder the moment you had come home. You swayed and slurred your words and Blade looked ready to gut you. He threw you in bed, tore off the pretty dress that he had said was “far too revealing” and shoved you into one of his sleepshirts without listening to a single one of your protests. Your fighting and punching didn’t deter him— it didn’t make him any more aggravated. 

(“You’re stupid.” Blade had told you, roughly wiping a soft cloth over your face. Makeup smears on the fabric. “Why are you out in the dark? How did you get home?”

“... You’re silly. I took a cab.” You tell him with a frown. You bat at his ears and Blade grabs your arms with such force you’re scared they’ll break. 

“You’re reckless.” Blade had growled in your ear. “Do you know what you invite when you’re in this state?” 

“... A hangover?” 

Blade had stared at you, fuming. The next moment, his teeth were embedded in your neck and a pillow was shoved over your face as you wailed. Your vision swam as he pulled away, lips and chin smeared red. 

Blood stains his teeth as he drags you up by the collar, and spits— “Do you know how many men would eat you alive like this?”)

You realize now that there was an implicit— “And I’m not there to keep it from happening.”

There’s comfort in it. You feel disgusting, but the roiling behind your eyes is cut by how warm Blade is behind you. That he’s good at patching the wound on your neck, and attentive when you let him be. 

If you really can't escape Blade and your mutual incidental claim... maybe it could be okay. There’s some assurance that Blade will not gore you, only tenderly hurt for the sake of some instinct you will never feel, but are coming to understand. He is honest too. His words are solid. He is too straightforward to mince his words. They are never a riddle. There's safety in being underneath him as you are now. 

There's safety in him. You almost cry again. He'll hurt you but never rend apart into pulp as you know he could. He'll sink his teeth in but as a claim. His slaughter is accompanied by care— for you. Slaughter inflicted on others is instinctual violence born from different baser needs. It hits you, like a blow to the chest, that whatever brutality he could inflict on you, is only a fraction of what he would inflict for you.

"Oh," you say, so softly, as you realize. You feel foolish all over again. 

Blade makes a contented sound against your nape. Mouthing at you. His palm is settled at the base of your throat. "Your kind can be so slow. Now rest."

You laugh, blurting it out into your buttery sheets. There are specks of blood dotting the cream fabric, new and old. Fresh and faded. 

You'll have to restock your first-aid kit.

[usedtobecooler]

follow me down | steve harrington x reader

a/n: one tiny conversation with @loveshotzz caused a fire to be lit under my ass yesterday, thus this debauchery was written. it's good to be out of the smut slump! 2.3k words.

tw: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MINORS DNI, gloryhole, dubcon, blowjobs, reader has a vagina, alcohol and drug mentions, anonymous sex acts, dirty talk, pet names, rough oral sex, masturbation, no protection.

Maybe this was a terrible, awful, bad idea, but as you sit on your knees in the darkened bathroom stall, you can't shake the nervous thrum of excitement vibrating through your entire body at what's about to take place.

This wasn't what you came out with your friend to do tonight — the plan was to go to this new kink bar on Main, party together and maybe take somebody home, if you were interested enough.

The drinks went down way too easily, the bass of the sensual music flowing through you both as you danced together, grinding up against one another without a care in the world. People were staring, of course they were, two hot women in latex in the middle of a sex club? It was inevitable.

Happening upon the secret bathroom was no mistake, your girlfriend pulling you in through the door and laughing in delight as she showed you, multiple private rooms behind blood red doors, slick grey door knockers adorned on them.

"It's all legit, I promise. No creeps, the guys on the door know better than to let them in here, especially Eddie, he would never," she'd assured, "let loose, babe. Put that talented mouth of yours to good use. I'll be in the next one over."

You eye up the stall, draped in red lighting, creating an aura. Taking in your surroundings for the next who-knew how long, with wide, curious eyes.

The hole in the wall itself was quite wide, clearly meant to be there as the plaster is perfectly cut in a circle, cute multicolored sparkles frame it alongside sharpied numbers and lewd messages.

There's a little box at your side, full of various single-use items you may need or want — disinfectant wipes, gum, breath spray, condoms, lube. You giggle, pleasantly shocked by the attention to detail that the club put into it all.

It's clear that this is what these stalls are meant for, to live out the deepest of fantasies in some sort of safety.

It's almost comforting, makes you want to go ahead with it even more, as you sit patiently waiting for somebody to enter the stall on the other side. Busying yourself with using a disinfectant wipe, cleaning any part of the stall that you think you'll come into contact with.

You're so preoccupied that you don't even notice somebody else has entered the room, until you hear the stall door next to your own click shut. Jeans so tight they almost look painted on ghost past the hole in the wall, nervous hands rubbing at the material.

"What the fuck is the etiquette in here?" The guy laughs, to himself mostly, no other greeting, and it's almost endearing. The nervous lilt in his voice obvious.

"I was expecting you to come in here and just shove your dick through the hole, to be fair," you giggle, picking up your drink and taking a sip, "nice of you to talk first, though. Hi, I guess?"

"Hi," he laughs back, breathlessly. You watch as he shuffles around on the other side, nothing more than a thigh and hand in your eyeline, the side of a zipper. Tighter fitting in that area than usual.

"So, do you wanna do this?" You ask, just for confirmation, veins thrumming with nerves and something akin to excitement, "I think I know the answer already, your jeans are, uh, very fucking tight."

"Shit, yeah. You— you're sure you're okay with this, right?" The man's voice is high pitched, whiny and a bit desperate, the clink of his belt against the stall wall enough to shock you, "I just— I don't do this, ever. But my friend he, he gave me these pills 'n I'm just so fucking horny, and you're, well. You're here and offering, God, I wanna."

You clench your thighs together, teetering between both knees as you get comfortable, "I'm okay with it, promise. I wanna, too." You confirm, voice lilted and dripping in desire, "Can you at least tell me your name, though? Wanna know who I'm moaning for."

"Oh, shit," he grunts, shuffling a little so you can see the tips of the auburn loafers he's wearing under the frame of the stall, "I'm Steve. Fuck, dunno if I should've used my real name but, who cares, right?"

Steve.

"Okay then, Steve," you gasp breathily, squeezing your thighs together once again, relishing in the relief it gives the dull ache on your clit, "wanna drop your pants and show me what you're working with?"

You sound far too confident, so confident that you shock yourself. Your hands shake, brain foggy still from one too many tequila shots and bubblegum flavored cocktails. But, Steve's right there and unzipping his pants in your eyeline, your bleary eyes zoning in on tan, slender fingers that you suddenly wish were inside of you.

"Can you— are you okay with me telling you what to do?" Steve asks cautiously, pulling open his jeans and getting ready to drop them. You bite at your glossy lip, the way the denim hangs almost frames the thick bulge in his tight black underwear. You store the picture in your memory for later.

"I like being told what to do," you admit, soft and sweet, "sometimes my brain gets all fuzzy when I'm into it, and I need to be reminded how to act, y'know?"

Steve lets out a strangled noise, a soft chuckle echoing in the room immediately after, "I'll remind you, honey. Don't worry your pretty little head about that."

Your confirmation, the air of arousal in the small space, suddenly has Steve flipping like a switch. You watch with wide eyes as he tugs down his offending clothing covering his thighs, pushing the layers down to his knees, out of his way. His cock springs out, weighed down by its own sheer size, thick and cut.

"Christ," you mutter, your mouth watering, and you desperately grab for the drink you carelessly abandoned at your side, swigging the last of it for a bit of courage. The burning of dark alcohol settling deep and warm in your gut.

You stare unashamedly as he grips the base of his dick, strong fingers wrapping around it, somehow looking dwarfed now. Your jaw already aches and he hasn't so much as pushed the tip past your lips.

"Open wide, honey," Steve's voice drips in sex as he coos his pet name for you, domineering and strong, a very different version of the man who came into the room just minutes earlier, though you can't say it's not a pleasant change.

Your mouth hangs open, tongue lolling out over your bottom lip, putting on a show for the man who can't even see you. You shuffle a little closer, going cross eyed as the wet tip of Steve's cock slides through the hole. You tentatively flick your tongue against the weeping slit, getting a taste of him in your mouth, before wrapping your lips around the head, gently suckling on the salty skin.

"Jesus-fucking-Christ," Steve groans, sighing blissfully as you start up a steady rhythm, allowing saliva to pool on your tongue and help glide your way along his thick shaft, jaw unhinging as if on autopilot for him. The clean, musky taste and scent of him driving you fucking insane, your hands coming up to touch the wall at either side of your head as you bury in further, choking yourself on him.

You know you're sickeningly wet for it, for Steve. Your core runs hot and aches as you lick and suck every inch of his cock you can get to, whining high in the back of your throat as his salty pre slides down your throat, coating your tastebuds in him. It's almost embarrassing how much you enjoy it, losing yourself in making him feel good.

"Y'r so good at this, baby. Fuck me," Steve's forehead thumps against the stall, jolting you slightly, has your rhythm faltering momentarily, teeth grazing ever so slightly down his shaft. He groans, loud and unashamed, punches his hips forwards until you're moaning around your mouthful, vibrations shocking the prettiest sounds from his lips.

"You're rough, huh? Hands on your knees, like a good girl," Steve grunts, rocking his hips into the stall and pushing deeper into your mouth until he's hitting your gag reflex — your throat tightens automatically at the intrusion and he moans, animalistic and needy.

Your hands move on instinct, coming to rest on your thighs, just below the hem of your dress. Your fuzzy head does the work for you, relaxing your jaw and throat for the impending assault. Your panties drip with arousal, eyes rolling into the back of your head, the idea of being used like this doing unspeakable things to your body.

Strong, tan hands wrap around the top of the stall, gold rings glinting in the low mood lighting in the room. You whine, loud and unabashed when you see them grip the plaster. Mind racing at the thought of those hands all over your body.

"Bet you look so fucking good with my cock down your throat," Steve groans, tiny little grunts escaping him as he punches his hips forward in sharp thrusts, "you feel so fucking good, holy shit. Good fucking girl, taking all of me like this."

You know you look obscene — saliva running down your chin, lips raw and puffy, eyeliner and mascara smeared down your cheeks from the tears that spring from your eyes. Your throat feels wrecked, stuffed full on Steve, and you finally show yourself mercy, hand running under your dress to run over the seam of your cunt.

The slick noises of fluid soaked skin crescendo in the room, filthy and disgusting in the most delicious way, erotic and adding to the senses that get you closer and closer to the edge. Your fingers slip deftly over your slick cunt, working at your clit until you're choking on a sob, body alight with how good you feel.

"You crying, baby?" Steve coos, rocking into your mouth again, tears pooling below your top lip, adding to the salty mixture in your mouth, "You're lucky the walls between us, if I saw you crying I'd only go rougher, I'd break you."

You wail, fingers slipping from your pussy as his words rattle in your ears. Your tongue flicks over every inch of him you can get between the harsh thrusts, swallowing him down and mapping out every bit.

"Can hear you fucking yourself in there," Steve comments, and you can't find it in you to even feel embarrassed, not when he's rammed so far down your throat that you're struggling to breathe and gagging, "so fucking hot, wanna watch. Wanna pull on your hair and fuck that tight little throat harder."

Your knees ache, your jaw feels like it's splitting, whole body alight with the pleasure-pain that courses through you. It's like nothing you've ever felt before.

Steve chuckles, an animalistic noise tearing from him when you suck a little harder, chasing his cock as he tries to pull out. Your core burns hotter with every passing swipe of your fingers on yourself, chasing your high so desperately that you can't find it in you to be mortified.

"You close, honey? You've gone a little stupid on my cock," he comments, tutting at you, "if this is how dumb you get on blowing me, I can't wait to see how dumb you get when I'm buried deep in your pussy."

You whimper, tears spilling down your cheeks as you shudder through your orgasm, your cries muffled with Steve's cock. Your fingers work on your clit until your hips shake, slick drips of your creamy release sliding down your inner thighs.

"Perfect little slut," Steve grunts, hips beginning to stutter in their rhythm, a constant stream of steady praises spewing from his lips, "can't believe you came sucking my cock, I'm a fucking stranger. I'm gonna cum, y'r making me cum, holy fuck."

One, two uneven thrusts later, and Steve's hips shove forward for a final time, cock kicking up on your tongue as he releases inside of your slackened mouth. Your brain and gag reflex barely cooperate, some of his load sputtering out from between your lips as you struggle to swallow it all.

Steve's loud when he comes, moaning so unashamedly that it echoes in the room, and you're so sure that your friend in the next one over will hear him, maybe even the one over from that, too. It's mortifying how attractive you find it.

There's an awkward silence once all is said and done, his spent cock slipping from your lips once you're sure he's finished. The sounds of heaving breaths and clothes shuffling are almost deafening in your ears, as you sober up from what could be considered a mind melting experience.

Steve zips his jeans up on the other side, awkwardly chuckling, "Uh, thank you for the best blowjob I've ever had in my entire life, stranger."

You bark out a hoarse laugh in return, shocked by the casualness of it, though it's so endearing — and inflating for the ego, "Thanks, Steve. It was a pleasure getting to suck your dick."

Steve laughs for real that time, breathless and almost incredulous, "I don't know if this is, uh, kink etiquette or whatever but, I'm in this ridiculous black satin shirt. Hairs high enough that you can see it through the crowd, or so my friend says. Come find me out there?"

You're shocked into silence for a moment, brain running on overdrive, trying to comprehend the invitation to actually go see him, after all of that. You feel ridiculous, how could you be prudish after sucking off a stranger?

"Or not?" Steve asks, with a deflated little huff.

"No!" You awkwardly shout, cringing internally, "Uh, I absolutely would love to, Steve. I'm in a black latex dress, I have a red pentagram necklace on, it's hard to miss."

"I'll see you out there then, honey."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I said I have OCD when I don't?

I (20X) don't have OCD. I do, however, have some of the symptoms, which is probably a comorbidity thing (ADHD diagnosis). The symptoms that are relevant here line up with contamination OCD.

I can be particular about "clean" things and "safe" spaces. I still live with my parents, and they're used to my habits. They know not to sit in my specific "clean" chair, to let me disinfect things with alcohol wipes before they get brought into the home, et cetera.

Right now my symptoms are relatively under control. There was a time when a brush against something I consider "contaminated" would result in me chucking any clothes that made contact in the laundry and washing any skin that it touched. I'm trying to avoid doing this when I feel like I can, to try and condition myself into being, for lack of a better word, normal. However, it still bothers me, especially when I'm feeling particularly anxious. And it really bothers me when we have guests over who don't know about my preferences and get their outside "contaminants" everywhere, which is where the problem arises.

We're going to have family over. They're flying in from a different country and will be staying in an Airbnb, but the main purpose of their trip is to visit us, so they'll be at our house frequently. This is mostly fine. My main "safe" space is my bedroom, and I would keep that door closed the whole time, and I think they would respect me enough to not enter. But I also have two "safe" furniture items in shared space -- a dining room chair and a couch (we have two in the living room).

Basically, I want to ask my family members to not sit on those two furniture items and say that I have OCD as a shorthand for "if you do this I will become genuinely distressed". I just feel like it's the only way for them to take me seriously and actually remember not to do it without me having to go into a whole explanation about my neuroses.

But at the same time, it feels shitty to lie about a having a disorder. And I'd also be doing this partially out of laziness, which I feel almost definitely makes me an asshole -- because in theory I could just keep disinfecting the chair and the couch between each visit for the couple weeks that they're going to come over for, but both of them are fabric, and it would be so much work to wash and dry them every single day. To be frank, I can't be bothered doing all that, and would rather they just didn't sit there at all. But it might also be an asshole move to tell them not to sit on one of our couches -- I mean, Christ, it's a fucking couch. It's meant to be sat on. (Even if I'd rather they didn't -- not because of them specifically, but because they'd be visiting in "outside clothes", which aren't clean. I also don't sit there if I'm not in clean clothes.)

So -- WIBTA? And if I am voted TA, any advice for how to proceed that doesn't involve having to steam-clean a couch every day would be appreciated.

[pretty-random-writer]

Pretty Eyes

___

Pairing(s): Harvey x GN!Farmer / Harvey x GN!Reader

Word Count: 921

Summary: You get hurt in the mines, and you don’t want to go bother a certain doctor for help over a silly little injury. But too bad Harvey doesn’t care. He’s gonna help you anyways.

Warning(s): mention of injury, mention of sex, both the Farmer and Harvey being oblivious, idiots to lovers, Clint (he’s a creep in my opinion), disgustingly fluffy.

A/N: here’s a cute little imagine of my husband, Harvey. I LITERALLY LOVE THIS MAN SO MUCH!!! anyways… enjoy ;)

Main Masterlist

||| Do NOT plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work in any way. Thank you. |||

___

“I don’t know why you do this to yourself!”

Here we go again.

Harvey is currently cleaning the wound on your leg. It was a nasty gash, you had to admit. But it was already pretty late and you didn’t want to bother him for help. You fully planned on just fixing yourself up with your first aid kit at home, until you bumped into the doctor himself. He offered to help clean it up. You hesitantly accepted. So, that’s exactly what he did. But not without scolding you, of course.

“I mean, come on,” Harvey said, still disinfecting your wound. “You went down forty-eight levels in the mines! For just some little pieces of amethyst??!”

You rolled your eyes at Harvey’s little lecture. He looks at you, scowling. “And don’t even think I didn’t see that.”

“Okay, fine,” You finally speak. “I see where you are thinking here. And I get where it could sound a little stupid. I just needed the amethyst, okay?”

“Why?” Harvey asks. He’s staring at you with so much intensity that you almost don’t want to say anything. As if he can sense this sudden anxiety, he says it again, softly this time. “Why?”

“Because…” Oh god, maybe this does sound stupid. “Because Clint needed it. He said if I get it for him, he’ll pay me back.”

Everyone in town knows that Harvey doesn’t have a bad bone in his body. He is just an overall sweet man.

So, when you see him quite literally turn red with rage, it comes as a shock to you.

Harvey gets up from his position next to your legs and starts to pace around, trying to get all this anger out of him through his steps. He looks furious.

“Um…Doc?” You say, hesitant. He starts to laugh to himself. “Are you-“

“I know you’re not about to ask me if I’m ‘okay’ right now.” He speaks harshly. “Because I’m not.”

“Why?”

“Why!?” He laughs a humorless type of laugh. “Because you put all that effort in to getting some stupid stone from the mines just for that- that creep to say that he’ll ‘pay you back.’”

“Why did you say ‘pay me back’ like that?!” You mimic quotation marks with your hands like Harvey did. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I-“

“Like, is this some sort of joke or-“

“He means sex!!!”

There is a pause in the room. You stare at Harvey, mortified over what you just heard. He sighs.

“Clint basically meant that he wants to sex. With you.” Harvey can’t even look at you. “I don’t know if you knew that but…”

How could you not have seen it? With all those suggestive comments. And the not-so-subtle winks. You just thought he was joking! You didn’t think he was serious!?

“Oh, God!” You now have your head in your hands. This has to be some sort of sick nightmare. This can’t be real. “I think I might be sick.”

You feel a hand placed on your back. You look up to see Harvey looking at you softly. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t have a small crush on him. Because you did. Just a little though. Because nothing could really happen. Right?

“Don’t worry, the bucket will be right here with you.” He says. “And me. If that even helps.”

“It does.” You maintain eye contact. He looks into your eyes, almost as though he can see everything about you. You don’t know how many seconds go by, but you don’t care. He doesn’t seem to either.

“You have really pretty eyes,” He states, in a daze. Your mind goes wild. You have no idea what is happening right now. All you can do is smile up at him. Realizing what he just said, he snaps out of it. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. I-“

“Doc, It’s okay.” You laugh softly, but that doesn’t make him stop talking.

“I can’t believe I just said that. Out loud too!”

“Harvey-“

“I mean you probably don’t even like me like that! And you’re my patient too! I really-

“Harvey-“

“I’m so sorry. I should-“ Before he can run away, you kiss him. You kiss him with such passion, that he never wants to let go. So he doesn’t. Instead, he responds with the same intensity you gave him. He grabs you by the waist, tugging you closer. You let out a gasp of surprise, in which Harvey hears. He smiles into the kiss. You both pull away slowly, the only noises being you and Harvey catching each other’s breath. You both stay like this, forehead to forehead, letting everything sink in.

“Well,” You look up and whisper to him. “In case you didn’t already know, I think you have pretty eyes too.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles softly, looking at you. You nod. “Will these ‘pretty eyes’ help me get a date with you?”

You can’t help but giggle.

“Okay! That wasn’t the best way to put it.” He laughs shyly. “But do you think you would let me take you out on a date? It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“Oh no! You are not backing out of this one, Doc.” You say, trying to look as serious as possible. But failing. “You are taking me out on that date whether you like it or not!”

“Noted.” He chuckled, smiling at you so much that his face hurts. How did he get so lucky to have a person like you?

___

[lolasimms]

what if Abby and Reader had toddlers, twins? a boy and a girl? Abby with her day off taking care of them, until late night! dinner bath time and all before other mom gets home? ❤️‍🩹

“Do you have to go?”

You hummed , closing the backseat door after you placed your bags down. It had been many months since you had spent a girl’ night with your friends. Not since the twins had turned 2 at-least. And today was Abby’s day off from the hospital, so you’d told your friends you were free to hang.

“Yes,” you rolled your eyes, buckling yourself into the front seat. Sparing a glance to the side of the car, where Abby stood holding a sleeping, Lila. “I RSVP’d, it would be rude not to show up, and it’s been months since I’ve hung out with the girls.”

Her heavy hand fell on your thigh, thumb rubbing circles on your bare skin. Pushing up your black dress so she could feel the hem of your panties. You set your hand down, sighing contently at the contact. Eventually pushing her hands away, you knew what she was trying to do. It wouldn’t work though, you were set on going out tonight.

“Abs, it’s not going to happen. Now go inside please, I’ll be back after bedtime.”

“Fine, love you.” She groans, closing you door shut and then makes her way back into the house with Lila still sleeping in her arms.

—♡—

As much as she loved the babies, Abby wished she could be some place else right now. They’d both been a nightmare ever since nap time had ended and refused to sit still for more than five minutes. Part of her wanted to give up and call you home for help, but she knew you deserved some time away from the demons, even if it meant she’d end her night with a brain aneurysm.

The twins had been fighting non stop since you’d left and Abby knew she’d have to seperate them. That however took a lot of bribery on her end. And by the end she’d given them half a pack of liquorice. So here she was, heating up dinner while Lila coloured in a princess on the kitchen island, quiet as ever. Whereas Levi was playing with his toys in the nook. She’s however interrupted from the peace when she notices Levi causing chaos in the breakfast nook.

“Hey- Hey!! Put the vase down, now!” Abby yells, racing around the island to grab the very fragile vase that was now in the hands of her wobbly two year old son.

“Momma no” Levi yells, pulling onto Abby’s legs. His failed attempt at trying to get the vase back. She places it on a high shelf and then lifts the child up with one arm, dragging him into his high chair.

“Alright, you two gremlins are eating dinner, having a bath and going to sleep. Heard?”

“Heard.” “Heard momma.” They both yell, excitedly bouncing in their chairs, full of energy. She was starting to regret bribing them with all that candy.

Dinner had gone fairly well, if you ignored the array of vegetables that had been thrown on the floor, and the pasta smeared all over the twins’ clothes. Abby knew your days at home with them were taxing but this was a whole new level of exhausting, they were a handful.

“Momma, Levi put his hands on the wall!” She hears Lila yell as she’s loading up the dishwasher.

“No I didn’t, Lila did!” Abby’s met with horror when she sees four red handprints on the very white kitchen walls. Apart of her was seething but also relived it was just tile.

“Alright both of you rats, upstairs now. I want you in the bathroom ready for your baths.” The two of them both toddle off, tiny feet pitter pattering against the floor. She sighs, grabbing a disinfectant wipe and begins cleaning the stained walls before you got the chance to see it and potentially kill her and the twins.

—♡—

Bath time was kicked into gear and both babies were splashing around in the bath. Abby was sitting on the edge of the bath, smiling as they sat up, splashing around in the water and incoherently yelling. She lathered up their baby loofas with baby shampoo before you she began gently rubbing it into their locks. Immediately, the twin’ yelling subsided, and both of their eyes closed as she massaged the shampoo into her scalp.

This was their favorite part about bath-time with momma. She cleaned them up with their baby soap and she could tell Lila was getting tired, she was the twin who always fell asleep first. She was just like you, in that she loved to be rubbed and massaged. She stood both babies up quickly, and then you drained the bath tub.

She swaddled Lila in a little towel and rested her on her on the bath mat, before turning around and doing the same to Levi. They were both quiet for once, seeing as they were on the verge of sleep, and their teeth clattered from the cold.

“Alright babies, let’s get you guys in your pjs” She smiles, placing kisses on their tired, wet faces. They both squeal in delight as she tickles them slightly, then leads them to their shared nursery. They’re both splayed out on their bean bags, wrapped up in their towels as she rummages through their dresser.

“Momma, can I have my doggy pyjamas?” She hears Levi ask from behind her.

“If I can find them sweetie, why do you guys have so many clothes anyways?”

“I don’t know” He mumbles.

Finally after a few minutes she’s victorious in finding their pyjamas. Once the babies are smothered in lotion, bundled up in their pj’s and tucked in bed, Abby races downstairs to grab them their bottles.

“Bottle for Levi, and one for Lila.” She places them inside their cribs and the both mumble quiet “thank you momma’s”

“Your welcome babies, now goodnight.” She places kisses on both their foreheads and then exhales as she shuts their door closed. She’d make a reminder to buy you something nice, after experiencing just one day of what your everyday felt like.

—♡—

“Hey baby.” You toe off your pumps, before walking over to your wife who’s making grabby hands at you. She’s sat on the sofa and immediately cages you into her toned arms.

“I missed you mommy.” She squeezes you tight, causing you to let out a surprised yelp.

“I was gone for 4 hours, honey.” You smile at her, as she makes the cutest pouty face you’d ever seen. Immediately you pepper little kisses all over her neck.

“Never letting you go again, your staying with me.” She’s acting all pouty and whiny, squishing you so hard that you could feel the air leaving your body.

“Enough Abs, how were my babies?” She huffs and then playfully rolls her eyes.

“You mean those demons? They were a handful until bath-time, then they started acting all cute and innocent.”

“Don’t call my babies demons, you little bitch.” She gasps in surprise and then grabs you by the waist, effortlessly slinging you over her shoulder and carrying you up the stairs.

“Abs put me down!!!” You whisper yell, so as not to wake the babies, but she simply laughs and continues.

“Mommy wants to call me a bitch, so I’ve got to teach her a lesson.”

[wildsidejazz]

Gosha got done so dirty, poor man went throught the WRINGER just because he wanted to become family with the one he fell in love with and BAM, his former best friend abandoned him out of jealousy for decades, his wife died of his poison because she managed to distract him long enough to dispose of the disinfectant meant to keep HER safe, his daughter disawoved him and then committed suicide because of her heritage and his poor, grieving, barely pubescent grandson cut contact with him for half a decade and then nearly lost him too, all that atop facing discrimination as a carnivore and a poisonous animal, give this poor man a break

[matt-h3w]

Okay but like Billy Hargrove, right.... We all know his dad sucks ass, but like, comforting Billy after his dad beat him..... Breaks me, but like also like the fluff of it is just Eeeeee. Ya know?

_______________________________________________

TW: wounds, abuse mentions, lack of self worth. Slight reference to readers trauma.

G/N reader, sure the man is cannonly straight, but I do it for the girls, the gays, and the theys, and everything in between.

------------------------------------------------------------

You enter his room and see him sitting on his bed, head in his hands with cuts and bruises covering his exposed skin you slowly walks over to him, brushing his hair out of his face, speaking softly "hey, what happened to you?" All he could do was look at you, tears starting to form in his eyes. Your lips make contact with his forehead as a form of comfort "it was your dad wasn't it?" You asked, and he nodded the tears spilling out.

His breathes are shaking, as he tries to keep in sobs. No one had ever seen him so vulnerable no one but you. You somehow managed to become something more than just a stranger in a small town. He couldn't manage to figure out just how you slipped between the walls he put up around his heart but there you were, he would never say but he wished your kisses meant more than comforting him. That you holding him was more than pity.

He wished that you loved him more than a friend. You gave him something he thought he could never have, someone to turn to in time of need. Someone to lean on when he felt he couldn't stand. Someone who'll care for him, and love him despite his flaws.

He always told himself he didn't deserve you. He knew he didn't. But yet you were still there by his side holding him close. "Let's get you cleaned up, hmm?" You whisper softly to him, you knew that he had been yelled at earlier and didn't want to make things worse.

_______________________________________________

you came back with a first aid kit and had been disinfecting the cuts, and putting bandaids on them if it was needed, you also took the time to make sure his bone weren't broken. He'd wince every now and again, and everytime you'd apologize. It made his heart swell, but he couldn't help but feel sorry for you, you never once hesitated to come to his aid, no matter how late, or how tired you were. He wondered how many nights you'd stay awake just in case he needed you.

He couldn't bare the thought of you losing sleep because of him, he didn't understand why he fell so easily for you, maybe it was the way you never once treated him any less than a person. Or the sarcastic comments you'd make when he was flirting with you. Or the way you didn't put up with his bullshit twords you, if you didn't like how he treated you, he'd get an earful without hesitation.

There was so much he loved about you, he thought you were undeniably beautiful. Regardless if you thought it yourself.

"Hey, you doing okay?" Your voice broke him out of his thoughts, he looked at you, the concern that filled your gaze made any tensed muscles in his body immediately relax , and his heart melt. His voice came out soft and broken as if he tried to talk to loud he'd cry again. "yeah" and the way you smiled at him, god your smile never failed to make warmth spread through his chest, up his neck, and to his face.

"You know when I heard your voice over the phone.... I wanted to kill him.." You spoke, He had called you, he always did after it got bad, every time his voice would shake and crack, trying not to break right then and there. He felt a sort of guilt run through his veins.

You felt hurt for him, when he didn't want to bare the emotion, you did, when he didn't want to bare the pain, you'd take it, when the weight became too much, you'd lift it off him. He never asked you to, he couldn't ever do that, but you still did, no matter how fucked up things got for you, you never stopped helping him.

That fact alone broke his heart.... You got up and set the first aid kit on his nightstand "do you still have the bag?" You asked gently fixing his hair. He nodded slowly "yeah, I do..." All you did was grab his hands gently, and pull him up, you both knew that he willing let you because if he didn't you wouldn't have been able to move him.

He grab the bag he kept stashed away in his closet, he had it for when he needed to get away, he never stayed away long because of Max. He'd never say it to her face but he really did care about her well-being.

------------------------------------------------------------

He found himself in the passenger seat of your car, his bag in the backseat. He would have taken his but the engine would have given him away. He was tapping his fingers on his thighs trying to focus on the road ahead. The car was silent other than the radio playing softly.

He felt your hand slide into his, which made him look at you. With a quick smile, you looked back at the road. He held your hand as if he was scared that when he let go, you'd be gone. You felt the tightness of his grip, it didn't hurt by any means, you felt your heart flutter at the way he clung to you even if it was only holding your hand.

You could never understand why he looked at you the way he did, but you were grateful that he trusted you enough to let you see the side of him that he kept tucked away. That he felt safe enough with you to cry, you knew that it was hard to do that and though seeing him so broken made your heart ache, it also made you so happy to know he'd let himself be vulnerable with you. You finally broke the silence, "you can stay in my room tonight if you want...." You're heart was pounding in your head, you'd be lying to yourself if you said that giving him that option didn't make you nervous. What if it made him uncomfortable.... You felt his grip falter just for a second.

"I'd like that.... If you're sure you're okay with it" his voice was just loud enough to hear. "I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't okay with it" you said, though within a certain perspective some might say that the words that you just spoke were talking down to him. He found them as words of reassurance, telling him you'd never do something that you didn't want to, that caring for him was something you genuinely wanted to do with your time. He found himself falling deeper into love with you with every little moment you shared.

He didn't even realize he was doing it till the back of your hand met his lips. The second he realized what he had done, he glanced over at you, frantically searching for any sigh of discomfort. But all he found was a soft smile displayed upon your lips. He felt your hand flex slightly, giving him a soft squeeze of confirmation that you were okay with his actions.

He pressed his lips further against your skin. Enjoying the smoothness against his mouth. The warmth coming off of you. When he pulled your hand back from his lips, he glanced at you again, though it was dark he could see the rosey color that had adorned your features, the smile that had grown wider, the soft twinkle of appreciation in your eyes as you focused on the road. You had finally reached your driveway, after all you didn't live very far. You didn't let go of his hand until you both got out of the car. He made sure to grab his bag from the backseat before getting out, once the car was locked you slid your hand back in his.

------------------------------------------------------------

He had set his bag on the floor of your room, he always love being in it. Surrounded by well.... You... The posters, the comic books, the drawings, the photos, the figurines, the vinyls, the plushies. He even loved the scattered books that you forgot to put away, or the unorganized makeup on the vanity. Even the random trinkets that sat in your windowsill. He has so many memories of late nights he spent with you, even if the reason he was there sucked ass, he loved being with you.

[gyumibear]

⌞BLUE SPRING⌝ — 03: Bruised Fruit

SYNOPSIS — In which you, an upcoming idol, are saved from a dangerous encounter by Song Mingi, a jaded, third-year delinquent who falls for you in more ways than one. However, both of your responsibilities constantly tear you apart. Years later, you reunite. Are the sparks still there or was your love only meant for that one spring?

WARNINGS — Heavy swearing, Descriptions of Injuries, Mingi insults YN (not maliciously)

WC — 1.6k

Mingi couldn't believe his eyes... Well, eye. Given that Hongjoong had blackened the left one and left him looking like some kind of fucked up pirate. Regardless, Mingi couldn't believe what he was seeing. The same obnoxious, if he could even really call her that, pretty girl from the store was approaching him. She walked with caution and even though she had a hood on, he could tell from her demeanor alone she was apprehensive. He didn't move to stand up from the curb where he rested. He didn't even acknowledge when she sat down next to him. Is she crazy? He thought.

"I'm not crazy if that's what you're thinking." So she's a witch. "I noticed you sitting over here and you're injured. I'm deathly afraid that my life is a hidden camera show and I need you to tell me now if I can bandage your wounds or if you're going to tell me I just walked the prank." So she is crazy. "Please just tell me. My roommate is gonna start wondering where I am, but I don't want to leave someone if they need help. So, uh, chop chop."

Mingi turned his head to actively give you a blank stare. Who walks up to someone and starts talking like that? Especially at damn near two in the morning? He gave you another once over, noticing your obvious differences. Ah, a foreigner. Mingi chalked it up to be just what they do overseas. He decided to humor you. "I'm injured alright."

You let out a sigh, grateful that he didn't continue to stare at you like you'd grown another head. "Mind if I bandage you up? I have stuff on me..." When Mingi gave you a raised eyebrow, you continued to speak, "I'm a bit clumsy and I hate seeing other people in pain. That explains why I have the kit and why I'm bothering you. So?"

"Knock yourself out." Mingi gave you a curt response, closing his good eye.

With that, you immediately got to work, pulling out your first aid kit. "You look like you'll be fine, but I'm warning you that I'm about to disinfect your wounds."

"Didn't I tell you to knock yourself out? And besides, I'm already bruised fruit."

You scoffed, dabbing the antiseptic-covered cotton ball onto the cut on his nose. "Bruised fruit... Who are you Osamu Dazai...?" You murmured. Who the fuck is Osamu Dazai? Mingi thought before letting out a soft hiss at the antiseptic's contact, with you raising your eyebrow this time. "All good there?" He rolled his eyes and you continued, working away diligently and pressing bandages to the cuts you found.

When you got back to his face, only his nose cut was left. Unfortunately, all your plain bandages were gone, leaving only your cutely patterned ones that were a gift from NingNing for your birthday. You reached into the box to retrieve one when Mingi's gloved hand grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. Your eyes led you to Mingi's face, his eye trained on the bandages.

"You're not putting those on my face."

"Yeah, I am."

"No, you aren't."

"And why not?" You shook his hand off your wrist. "You were fine before."

"I already got beat up once this week. I don't want to get fucking laughed at too." While Mingi had wanted it to come out in a threatening tone, his voice revealed a hint of sadness at the end of his sentence. Good, now she probably thinks he's a fucking loser. If she didn't already. Surprising to him though, you didn't laugh or say you thought he was a loser.

Instead, you looked up at him earnestly and said "I'm sorry."

Mingi was taken aback. He had not expected you to say that. "What- Why are you sorry? You didn't have anything to do with this."

You then started to look a little guilty, which for some reason made Mingi feel like cheap dirt. You played with your hands absentmindedly while you formed the right words. Just when the silence had gotten stale you kept talking. "I mean, I kind of saw the beginning of what happened a few days ago. When those dudes were messing with you... I didn't see everything cause I had to get back to my dorm, but I noticed how...distraught... you looked. I'm sorry I didn't step in or anything."

Mingi gave you a blank stare once more, the gears turning in his head. You'd seen what happened? How scary Hongjoong had looked? And you thought you should've stepped in? Mingi didn't know whether to think you were super brave or super dumb. But, a small part of his cold demeanor was cracked knowing you cared that much. Wait, what am I saying? I barely know this girl. "Don't apologize. I had it handled."

Now was your turn to give him a blank stare. "Doesn't really look like you did..."

"Hey!" Mingi huffed, almost annoyed. "I did. I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"No offense, but my first thought when seeing you today was 'Did that guy get ran over by a bus' so..."

"Fuck you." Mingi rolled his eye, turning away from you. Now he was annoyed. He didn't know what to make of you. You seemed genuinely caring, but then again you also seemed like a genuine little shit. He had half a mind to just walk off, actually he was going to until you let out a soft chuckle.

"Sorry!" You snickered out, his eye back on your face. "You said that so quickly."

Mingi watched you struggle to hold your laughter with a deadpan expression. You were almost turning colors trying to maintain your composure that he was even a little worried about you. Then, you started coughing uncontrollably, and then you started choking. She's going to fucking die. He grumbled to himself before using his hand to lightly tap you on the back. When you seemed to have settled down, Mingi let out an exasperated, "Are you done?"

"Yeah..." You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly. If you hadn't just almost gone on to glory he probably would've thought your actions were cute. But nope, Mingi was rendered to a state of second-hand embarrassment for you. "Um... Please pretend that didn't happen."

"No way in hell."

"Wha- Fuck you!"

"Now you're getting it," Mingi gave you a cocky smile. "Okay. Pack up all your stuff."

"Wait why?" You asked, but started putting away any unused medical supplies. "I still haven't bandaged your nose. Or your hands for that matter. Take your gloves off."

Mingi ignored your words, taking the bandaid scraps and throwing them into a nearby garbage can. He was not taking his gloves off. Fuck that. "It's late. I want to get home and I'm not leaving you out here alone, so let's go."

"Ah." You checked your phone, confirming he was right. Mingi sniffed as he waited for you to stand up. "My bus comes in a few minutes."

"Let's go then."

⚘

Mingi couldn't believe how stupid you were.

"I could've sworn it said ten minutes!"

"I could've sworn," Mingi mocked your voice, "Dumbass. That says ten hours."

You didn't even try to argue back, knowing that he was correct in calling you dumb. Your bus tracker did say the next time a bus could get you back to your dorm was 10 hours. Keeho was going to kill you... If Gahyeon didn't... Or if you didn't get FIRED.

You collapsed to your knees dramatically, surprising Mingi. He looked down at you in half-confusion, half-worry. "Are you... good?"

"I'm going to get fired." You hung your head, sighing slowly. "We all worked so hard and I've just ruined it. Everyone's going to be disappointed and I- Shit."

"Okay, relax." Mingi felt awkward, given he didn't know what you were talking about and other people's emotions made him feel weird. "We'll get you back, alright?"

"How?" You sniffed. "You don't have a car, do you?"

"No, but we both have two working legs. Get up." Mingi reached down, grabbing the back of your hoodie to pull you up to your feet. "I'll walk you back."

"Who just grabs someone like that?!" You huffed, dusting yourself off.

"Stop complaining." He started walking but stopped when he realized he didn't know where he was going. "Hey. Where do you live anyway?"

"At the HYBE dorms..."

"You're an idol?" Mingi struggled to hold back a laugh. "Wow."

"Is it really that surprising?" You rolled your eyes as he kept snickering.

"Nah, but I would've thought party clown."

"Fuck you!!" You started speedwalking in the general direction of your dorms, Mingi cutting off his laughter to catch up to you.

⚘

Mingi stood with his arms crossed, watching you hurriedly text 'your friend' to let you into the dorm. You both had been standing out there for a solid twenty minutes, probably waiting for said friend to wake up. It was damn near three forty in the morning, after all.

"She texted back!" You announced, whispering the words out. "She's on the way down."

Mingi just nodded back, not really having a response. To be honest, he was really just thinking about getting in the bed. His phone buzzed, reminding him he even had a phone in the first place. Reading the texts, his face paled significantly. When you finally turned around, you were shocked to see that he wasn't there anymore.

"Wha-" You looked around, trying to see where he'd gone. Nothing.

"YN!" Chaeryeong opened the door, whispering out your name. "Come on!"

You took one more worried glance over your shoulder before running inside. Where did he go?

← TO PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | TO NEXT →

NOTE — Saurry for the disappearance! Uni is not for the weak. 😭 Fun Fact: Mingi loves to tease people, especially if he likes them. Take that as you will... ;)

BLUE SPRING TAGLIST: OPEN! send a reply or ask to be added! if striked, you could not be tagged! — @ad0rechuu @run2seob @xynokia @hearttakesworld @scarfac3 @gvnwks @asherthehimbo @atinytinaa @urlacuna @saintriots @miriamxsworld @yungiprincess @ddextrr @rxnexxi @yyxy27 @mingis-mizu @lolos-hoes

© GYUMIBEAR. do not repost, modify, or translate my work onto other social media sites.

[say-hi-intrepid-heroes]

my experience getting/having a septum piercing!

(detailed journal under the cut, overview at the top)

TLDR: my experience was good, but that's because i planned and dedicated time to it. if you're in a situation where you'd need to hide it, make sure you get the piercing at least a week before you would need to flip it under. anything less and it's going to hurt like hell (although it'll still hurt a lot after a week)

general tips: 1) clean it at least once a day for a while. stuff builds up, especially in winter. i'd honestly recommend not getting it right before winter like i did, cause cold metal is not great. 2) try not to mess with it during the day, but make sure to move it around when you clean it, otherwise the healing skin will stick to the jewelry. 3) get a color/style you can live with for a few months. 4) don't flip it back and forth too much. 5) don't blow your nose aggressively or you might pass out from the pain. 6) dont wear face makeup to get your piercing done. touching your nose is gonna hurt like hell afterwards, so removing makeup won't be fun. 7) don't get a septum piercing as your first piercing. i've had two piercings in each ear, so i've had experience with the pain. if you flinch on an ear piercing, it's not as big of a deal cause those are so fast, but this one is NOT. major flinching is really bad here.

i've put a detailed log with dates under the cut. tw for descriptions of blood (obviously) but nothing major.

also, if you have any specific follow up questions, feel free to message or send an ask! i can't necessarily give you a perfect answer, but i can tell you what worked for me :)

(disclaimer: i wrote these on the days they are marked. i have not deleted or added anything, these were my thoughts and experiences as they happened. this does not represent everyone's experience, just mine, and is meant to be used as a reference to anyone wanting more information about this experience)

day 0 (11/11)

- got it done at a tattoo shop, they used a new/sterile needle and disinfected the area or something with something that smelled like iodine. it wasn't as fast as an ear piercing but it was honestly less painful.

- lots of initial bleeding (normal for me and head wounds in general), they nicked the outside of one nostril but that's probably because of my nose shape, lots of eye watering (also normal for me)

- cleaning it sucked, used the stuff they gave me (neilmed piercing aftercare mist) and qtips. moving the piercing was the worst part (it was slightly off center so i had to move it a bit), hurt so bad. did not appear to bleed further, however.

- nose area around piercing (nostrils, tip of nose) is extremely tender. putting on moisturizer was painful. glad i was not wearing full face makeup that i would have had to take off

- still too scared to blow my nose. i have a congestion headache.

day 1 (11/12)

- itchy. so itchy.

- currently biggest challenge is cleaning it. the area is so fragile and hurts so bad if you mess up how cleaning is done.

- also, allergies suck. i can't blow my nose. why.

- no bleeding tho, and nothing concerning

day 2 (11/13)

- cleaning is better, but i did figure out i was doing it wrong so that might be why moving the actual jewelry hurt so much. (the piercing was a lot further forward than i thought it was, so i was kinda just cleaning the middle of my nose. i wasn't cleaning where the hole is, so the scab area was just dry when i tried to move it, which is so so bad)

- area around it is much much less tender. no sudden contact though still.

- moving the jewelry hurts like a bitch

day 7 (11/18)

- substantial improvement over the last few days. no longer hurts to move the jewelry or touch my nose. only hurts if excessive force (i.e. getting punched in the nose)

day 9 (11/20)

- flipped it under (to hide it) for the first time. had to look up youtube videos for people with my nose shape cause i was doing it wrong but other than that it was very smooth and painless.

- now i just feel like i need to sneeze, but no pain.

about three weeks post-piercing

- we've kinda leveled out. no more major pain, now i'm able to flip it under in an emergency (without a mirror, without prep, etc)

- i got super sick and had a runny nose and it did fine the whole time.

- highly recommend flipping it under if you're having to blow your nose a lot, otherwise it snags and snot gets caught in it and i don't like it

two months (mid january)

- it is extremely cold where i am (hanging at about 10-15 degrees Fahrenheit) and this is making my skin so so dry.

- basically the piercing wound has cracked open a bit. it hurts a lot. i'm now drinking lots of water and running a humidifier/diffuser, but there's only so much that can do.

three months (mid february)

- just took out the jewelry, cleaned, and replaced for the first time!! it went really smoothly, no pain, no blood, but i did go slowly.

- make sure not to do it over a sink or the pieces could get lost. also, for the horseshoe i have, the little ball is kinda tricky to get back in, but if you take your time it'll work.

- i'm at the point where i feel like it is substantially healed, barring a major snag or other injury. i'm probably going to change out the jewelry soon once i get a new piece, and im very excited for that!!

[end]

[biscuitblinkeu]

Just a Simple Kiss [6]

Chaennie x Fem!reader

She gets her kiss, and you get your room destroyed.

Word Count: 3050

……………………………………………………………

Jennie was in the middle of disinfecting your wounds when Chaeyoung appeared, plopping on the kitchen chair. She gave her a light smile as she saw her, setting the medical supplies down. Your own smile faded as you saw Chaeyoung’s bloody hands. Why didn't she wash them?

“You are finished with them?” Jennie questioned coming over to the angel. Chaeyoung nods, glancing over at you who has your face in your hands.

“She didn’t put up a fight. I’m disappointed, but nevermind that, how is (Y/n)?” Chaeyoung asks. Jennie bites her lip, thinking.

“She’s a bit shaken up, and she was poisoned. It’s not that bad but her body is on fire inside, most likely killing her slowly. You need to heal her.” The grim reaper informed. and Chaeyoung frowned. Poisoned? Well that wasn’t good.

It’s not that bad, but it’ll kill you though? How does that make sense? You thought sarcastically.

“Okay. Can you dispose of that demon’s soul?” Chaeyoung said, rolling up her sleeves. They were a mess. She received a nod from Jennie.

“And call the others once you’re done.” She said sternly, knowing the reaper can be forgetful. She made her way to you, her expression changing worried.

Chaeyoung moved to stand in between your legs and grabbed your chin to make you face her. She noticed you were still crying, your eyes were glossy and slightly puffy. On the other hand, you noticed the angel’s hands were still bloody making you push her away. Chaeyoung smiled softly in amusement, quickly cleaning them.

“Are you okay?” She asked, not knowing what to do as you continued to cry. You shook your head no, letting out ugly sobs. Whatever that demon did to you, fucking hurts. The angel chuckled at that, wiping your tears.

It was cute.

“How about you make a wish?” Chaeyoung said blankly. She might as well take advantage of the situation. She wants to kiss you right now, who looks so pretty crying. She’d love to see you a mess.

“I’m sure your body hurts. I can make it feel better.” Chaeyoung proposed, her tone teasing but it really was true. You avoid her eyes, misunderstanding what she truly meant. But still, you nodded, wiping your tears and looking to the floor.

You don’t care at this point. You’re in pain, and if it means you have to kiss the angel, you will. Swallowing your mind’s protests you brought in a breath, preparing yourself. You then heard the angel murmur a small “perfect”, making you double guess your choice.

“You're adorable,” Chaeyoung whispered, right into your ear as she leaned in, “I wanna fucking ruin you.”

(Ayoooo?)

You feel Chaeyoung’s finger brush over your lips, playing with the padding. “I want you to know, this is your first and second wish since I held it off.” She informed. “Meaning, I get to do more than a ‘simple single kiss’.” She adds, smiling.

Your body heats up, what does she mean more? How much farther will she go for another wish?

“Now, I want your confirmation again.” Chaeyoung says seriously, making you look up, a sigh leaving your lips. You're not a huge fan of eye contact.

“Yes. I wish you’d heal me already— it hurts.” You whined in annoyance. You don’t understand why you need to confirm it twice. At your answer Chaeyoung smiles, and before you could even prepare yourself, she’s captured your lips in a kiss.

At first, you’re shocked, then you begin to melt into the kiss that is soft and sweet. Her hands cup your face delicately and she presses herself against you more, well, as much as she can between your legs as you sit on the counter. Your stomach flips at the sensation and you wrap your arms around her waist.

Your lips were so pillowy, so addicting, and Chaeyoung praises herself for waiting till you made a second wish, otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to stop after “one simple kiss”. She bites and sucks at them, occasionally her tongue swipes the bottom. The angel pecks your lips a few times before whispering against your lips, “That’s one…now,” and then she’s kissing you again.

Although this time, when a squeeze to your hips has you gasping and opening your mouth slightly, her tongue, hot and wet, immediately dives through and meets yours, coaxing a moan out of you.

Your eyes shoot open at the action, and Chaeyoung’s lips move along yours a bit roughly, sucking on your tongue. A whimper escapes you, feeling heat pool in your stomach.

It felt good…

You’ve never kissed like this— you don’t know how to breathe. Your eyes become glossy at the loss of air and you feel lightheaded. And don’t get it wrong, Chaeyoung’s lips feel nice, but despite that, you might faint. You could feel your lips starting to swell up.

"C-Chaeyoung." You said when you manage to pull away to gasp for air, her lips pressing up back against yours after a few seconds.

"Let me breath.” You spoke when you managed to push the angel away softly, but she moved to your neck, giving it open mouthed kisses and markings. Her hands were tightly gripping your waist. Chaeyoung makes quick work of decorating your skin with love bites, reveling in the noises that spill from your lips.

You can’t bring yourself to care about the marks or the sounds you're making— because the only thing you're thinking about is Chaeyoung.

You feel a hand go under your sweater, resting on your waist again. Chaeyoung rubs miscellaneous shapes on your skin soothingly. It was all soft before you let out a gasp feeling the angel bite down particularly harshly on your collarbone.

“Ouch…!” You say. The bite hurt, but at the same time felt nice. At this the angel pulled away, cradling your face again and looking deep into your eyes.

Her eyes are dim, the haze replacing her normal enthusiastic brown ones. She looks at the pattern of marks she made on your neck.

You noticed her demeanor shifted from a hungry list to visible concern in an instant. “I am so sorry… I went a bit far.” Chaeyoung apologizes before smiling cheekily. “You were just so cute, it’s hard not to mark you up.” She mutters, but you don’t hear it.

Chaeyoung presses a finger on one of the marks, making you flinch. The angel smiles at your reaction, letting out a snort. You don’t understand what’s funny. That hurt.

“Well, since that’s done, how do you feel?” She needs to make sure you're not in pain anymore, or that there are no after effects.

“I feel better. It’s just…my neck fucking hurts!” You seethed. “How will I hide all of these?” You whined, finger motioning to your neck. It honestly looked like you were attacked by a vampire, or huge mosquito.

Chaeyoung ignores your complaints, responding with a small “Good.” Her eyes are focused behind you. You wonder what she’s looking at, then a portal appears. On instinct, you quickly move to cover your ears, expecting screaming to fill the room. It never came, only the sound of air whistling came from it.

You had gotten used to Jennie’s portals, so much that it made you have the muscle memory to cover your ears from the first time. You thought they all made that horrible noise. You figured portals were the main method they used to travel, aside from appearing and disappearing.

A few seconds later the portal opened, and a man with short purple hair walked out. He had on a tuxedo and a golden beret with angel wing clips on it.

“You could’ve sent a note you were arriving.” Chaeyoung said, annoyed, but nonetheless had a smile on her face. The one with purple hair shrugs, glancing at you. He squints his eyes at you, practically staring into your soul. You shiver when he looks away.

“Well, I was requested to escort you home to get ready for the upcoming Golden Banquet.” He responded. “Or have you forgotten about it?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow. The expression on Chaeyoung’s face gave him the answer. “So you did.” He scowls.

“No— maybe a little, but I was focused on my human.” She lies, having completely forgotten, as she pulls you closer. She didn’t want to go. The banquet was so annoying for her with all the angels that would flirt and even try to ask her out.

“Since I’m busy…why don’t you tell my father I can’t go, Minai?” Chaeyoung tries, hoping he’d take the hint and not make her go. He chuckled, pulling her off you. He grabbed her wrist firmly, making her whine because she couldn’t escape.

“If you're worried about her I’ve already sent two from your division to watch her. And you know your mother won’t take it lightly if you don’t prepare for the banquet— let alone miss it.” He reasoned, readjusting his grip tighter as the angel was prying his fingers off one by one. “Plus, I think your human needs a little break. What did you do to her neck?” He says pointing at you.

Your face heats up and you quickly cover your neck with your sweater sleeves. As you did, a big smirk formed on the angel’s face, but it quickly fades as Minai increases his grip.

“Fine!” Chaeyoung hissed, “Who did you send? Jennie?” She hoped it was Jennie.

“No. Jisoo and Lisa of course.” Minai answers and the color drains from Chaeyoung’s face.

“Out of all them, you send those two?! They bicker so much- let alone they’re both messed up in the head somewhere— my poor human!” She cries before shooting Minai a glare, “Are you going to pay for the damage costs? The damage costs of my human losing brain cells being around those two? You know she might even get caught up in one of their fights? Because-” The angel complained, being cut off by Minai stepping on her foot.

“Son of a bit-” Chaeyoung started, her lips pursed from the pain, only to be cut off.

“As I said! Your human will have a break from you. They are more than capable of taking care of her for two days, Chaeyoung.” He repeated, “And your mother will scold both of us if I don’t get you to attend.”

You stifled a laugh as he kept winning the argument. From their conversation and the way they acted, you assumed the man was her friend or assistant.

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes, breaking out of his hold by twisting her arm. She runs back over to you, whispering. “Sorry, I have to leave again, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Beware of those two, if they bother you, call Jennie.” Chaeyoung warns you.

“Alright?” You question. You don’t know what she means by that. You watch Minai drag Chaeyoung back into the portal, and you let out a sigh when it closes.

How will you hide the marks on your neck?

…

With a groan, you stumbled back into your bedroom after a long day of honor classes and tutoring that seemed as if it would never end. You let out a loud groan as you plopped down onto your small bed, hugging your pillow and closing your eyes as you tried to drift off to sleep. You didn’t have trouble sleeping since you were exhausted.

A couple minutes later the quiet silence stilled around you, the only sound being the heater’s hum. It was a peaceful silence, other than a drop in temperature. You didn’t pay any attention to it thinking it was the window you left cracked open earlier, well, until you felt familiar chills crawling up your spine.

You immediately sat up and looked around, expecting to see Jennie or Chaeyoung, but you saw nothing. Signing, you laid back down and closed your eyes. The cold feeling still lingered, but since you already checked it out you couldn’t care less. You were tired.

As soon as you fell asleep two visitors appeared, blind to the eye.

“Can you tell me why we’re invisible again? She should be able to see us.” An angel with bangs stated, sitting on the small desk in the corner of your room.

“We don’t want to scare her, that’s why.” The brunette answered, leaning on the wall. She glances at the human who is now dead asleep, drooling on her pillow.

“Then when will we reveal ourselves, Jisoo? I’m bored, let’s wake her up.” Lisa whines.

“When she wakes up.” Jisoo answered, making the other let out a sigh. Lisa glances back at you and her eyes catch the poorly hidden marks on your neck.

“Sheesh! Chaeyoung really marked her neck up.” She snickers, hopping off the desk and approaching you. “What did she do to you?” She wonders out loud, kneeling in front of you poking your cheek. “She’s cute.” She says, “Just like a puppy.”

Jisoo has to agree with that.

Lisa studies your facial features for a while before she moves to touch your lips, Jisoo catches her hand giving her a look. “She off-limits. Don’t touch her.” Lisa ignores her, making Jisoo sigh. “Unless you wanna be in trouble.”

“I know, I know… Chaeyoung is so lucky to have such a pretty human. I just want to see how she looks when she’s being pleasured. Does she whimper when she’s getting kissed? How does she look when she’s fucked out and begging— Ouch!” Lisa said and Jisoo slapped her arm.

“Stop it. You better not touch her.” She warned, grabbing her wrist to tug her away. At this, Lisa taunts Jisoo and gives you a kiss. It didn’t last long though, as she was pulled away forcefully.

You jolted up from your sleep, looking around. You swore you felt somebody’s lips on yours, and you don’t know who. It’s definitely not Chaeyoung’s. Somebody else is here. Before you could grab your phone or maybe feel the air around you to see who it is— there’s a loud bang.

Then another.

Then another and another. You clutch your pillow and scramble up against the headboard. Your shelf is being repeatedly bumped against the wall, your books and figurines falling off of it.

“Let go Jisoo!” Lisa screamed, trying to pry the other's death grip off her shirt. Jisoo was slamming her into the dresser, her body banging into it.

“Why don’t I tell our dear leader that you’ve been touching her human?” Jisoo piped up.

“You wouldn’t. Don't you think I don’t know you slack off to see Nayeon? Why don’t I tell Chaeng about that?” Lisa hissed as she slammed Jisoo against the wall now.

“She’s in our division— and I’m not slacking off, Nayeon works with us!” Jisoo said exasperated, switching and slamming Lisa against the dresser. She groaned when the edge dug into her back.

You watched in horror as a hole appeared in your wall, shaking the whole room with the force. The furniture scratching against the wall was chipping the paint off. You came to the idea someone was fighting in your room like it was a damn boxing ring.

You needed to do something. If you don’t your room will be destroyed— and the amount of money to fix it would empty your bank account.

“Jennie! Jennie! Jennie, I need you here!” You yelled, following what Chaeyoung told you. You didn’t know whether one time was enough- buy even if it was, what if she didn’t get it the first time? You needed her to come here immediately.

A short second later appeared the cute Grim Reaper, wearing her reaper necklace, a black asymmetrical crop top, and baggy jeans that said “censored” on them. Jennie smiled at you, crawling on the bed next to you happily. “I love the way you say my name (Y/n). I was hoping you’d call me soon, I wanted to…” Jennie trailed off, hearing a bang.

Her bubbly expression soon changed to concern, and she looked where it came from. Once she looked, her face went blank. She had an idea why you called her now.

“Oh.” Jennie said as she watched Jisoo and Lisa fight— pushing each other into things and arguing. She also looks at the army of dents and holes in your walls.

The cat-eyed woman sighs, walking over to the situation, something that you can’t see. It took a while for the two angels to notice her till she tapped on both of their shoulders, making them flinch.

You wondered what she was doing till the two angels appeared. One had their hands on the other’s head, pulling at their bangs and the other had their hands wrapped around the other’s neck.

It was an interesting sight.

You then watched as Jennie pulled them apart, scolding them. “What is wrong with you two?” She spat, giving a harsh stare to them both. “You’re scaring her.”

“Lisa started it! She kissed her and I told her not l but she didn't listen.” Jisoo said, standing up and wiping the blood off her lip. Lisa glared at Jisoo because she snitched.

“You— you kissed (Y/n)?” Jennie laughed, before turning serious. “That’s unbelievable. If Chaeyoung finds out, you’re dead.” She empathizes with sliding her finger across her throat.

“Hey now— she doesn’t have to find out, right? I couldn’t resist, don’t you know how cute she is— I mean, it was just a greeting.” Lisa tries to play it off.

It’s like they forgot about you. You’re just sitting there listening to them talk about you, but at least you know who kissed you, as well as who destroyed the wall.

“Are you guys gonna fix it?” You spoke up, catching their attention. “Jisoo and Lisa, was it?…” you guessed they were the ones sent to watch you.

“The wall.” You add, just in case they don’t know.

“Oh, right. We’ll fix it. Sorry about that.” Lisa murmurs, looking at Jisoo who nods, apologizing too. That’s the least they could do after destroying your room. One of them claps their hands and the wall starts to rebuild itself.

Once that’s over, they turn back to you, apologizing again.

“Can you guys cook?”

A/n: This chapter was really fun to write and the Lust Angel division? They’re basically a bunch of highly sexual perves if you ask me LOL

I’m going to add more Jennie and Reader moments, but we’re reaching the middle of the story, so expect more :)

Would you like to continue? ϵ( 'Θ' )϶

[staytinyville]

Taehyun

PLEASE REFER TO MASTERLIST TO GET FULL TAROT READING EXPERIENCE

↣ Summary: After a saesang pushes you down the stairs, you begin to fear going outside. When Taehung helps find who was responsible, you get the justice you deserve. 

↣ Characters/Pairing: Kang Taehyun x gn!reader

↣ Genre: fluff

↣ AU/Trope info: idol!au

↣ Word Count: 1.1k

↣ Warnings: None

↣ A/N: Don’t be a saesang. Moral of the story. People will find you. 

JUSTICE

Justice, Fairness, Truth, Cause and Effect, Law

If you have been fair and just in your life, you have nothing to worry about. However if you are hiding something you haven't it's clear this card is meant to tell you it's time to own up to your actions. If you know that what you did isn't something big, just know that you will be tried for fairly.

If you are waiting for justice yourself, just know that it is waiting fro you around the corner. This card can mean that whatever it was you were looking for will be found. And once you have it you will find that all your worries over it will slowly drift away.

Be aware that this card is meant to tell you that the decisions you make now will come back for you later. It can be in a good way or bad, it's just meant to say that you need to be clear in what you plan on doing.

XI JUSTICE

The night was a bit cold which meant that you were all wrapped up cozily in your colder clothing. You have always loved this kind of weather. And it was even better when you got to spend it with the people you loved so much. You were finally going home after going over some of your things with your managers. 

You had been close friends with the boys from TXT and other groups in the HYBE labels. However today it had Taehyun who met you outside and was walking you out to the car to take you home. The boy was walking at your side, his shoulder pressed close to yours making you heat up. 

“Oh, I left my charger.” You frowned as you dug through your bag. “I'll be right back.” You told him.

“I'll wait for you.” You gave him a smile before turning back. 

Finding your things wasn’t hard. You were quickly going back down to the garage where you spotted Taehyung waiting for you at the car. Walking closer to the steps that lead down into the parking lot, you hadn’t noticed the person waiting for you in the lobby. 

They quietly followed behind and without a second thought, as you were about to go down the first step, you felt the harsh shove on your back causing you to fall forward. 

“Ah!” You yelped, hands coming up to cover your face as you tumbled down the five steps. 

“(Y/N)!” Taehyun yelled when he watched the person push you. His eyebrows pulled together when the person began to run but he was able to see their face clearly. “Hey!” He shouted after the culprit. 

However as you began to whimper, he stopped what he was doing and turned back to you. You had landed on your side, causing your breath to fall from you. Your ribs felt bruised from the tumble on the cement steps and you had small pebbles digging into your palms that caused them to burn.

“Are you okay?” He asked you, coming to help you up. 

“I don't-I don't know.” You cried softly, hands shaking as you tried not to touch them.

When Taehyun took in the small red dots forming on your palms and knees, he quickly pulled you along to get some help. 

“Let's take you to a clinic.” Taehyun helped you up, moving you along to the car where the driver had quickly gotten out to help you after hearing you scream.

The nurses were kind to you and disinfected your wounds. They also checked your ribs and did an x-ray just in case. From what they could tell, you only had bruises that would heal within a couple of days. They did tell you it would look ugly but not to worry because it was part of the healing process. 

Taehyun had gone home with you seeing as he felt worried after you wouldn’t say much to the doctors. The company was already contacted about what happened and have begun to search for whoever it was that was in the building at the time. 

“Everything alright?” He asked as he came to sit next to you on your couch. 

“I don't want to go outside.” You whispered, sitting up due to the pain you felt in your ribs when you moved too much. 

“No one is making you.” Taehyun tried to soothe you. “It's okay to want to stay inside.”

“But work and you—” You quickly tried to tell him but he only shushed you. 

He gave you a cup of hot chocolate, making you smile just a bit. Taehyun had promised you a cup after leaving work but that wasn’t possible. But yet he came to your home to make you your drink. 

You had always admired Taehyun for both his looks and his talents within the industry. He was someone who sang and danced with such passion it inspired you. You also couldn’t help but to fan over him. You were someone with eyes–who wouldn’t enjoy someone like him. 

It didn’t help your crush that he was also such a kind person who cared deeply about others. You were quite happy to have someone like him in your life and were even more happy to learn that he wanted to talk to you in a romantic sense. 

You had yet to make anything official but you knew you guys liked each other more than enough for that. And now having him here trying to make you feel better only made you smile at the thought. You really like the boy and you were glad he liked you back. 

“I'll be here until you get better.” He told you. “And when you do I'll come with you.” His smile made your heart feel happy. 

Before you knew it, a week later you were talking with the legal team about the saesang that had pushed you. They easily found the person, which led you to this predicament. 

“Do you wish to press charges?” They asked you.

“How can I when I don't even know who did it?” You frowned. 

“We have security camera footage.” One of the men explained. “And Taehyun told us he'd give a witness statement.”

You snapped your head up at the revelation. “Witness?” You tilted your head. 

“He saw the whole thing at the bottom of the steps.”

Your leg bounced up and down through the entire process. You were waiting to be let go to go do something you have been wanting to since the moment they said Taehyun was helping you. You wanted to hug him tightly and tell him how much he made you feel better. And not just in person. 

So an hour later you were quick to find him in a studio waiting for his turn to go into the booth. He was on his phone but the moment you bumped into him, he let out a grunt. He laughed a little at the way you rubbed your cheek into his chest, smoothing down your hair with his hand. 

“Oh, hey.” He chuckled. “Are you okay?” He asked, looking down at you as you pulled away. 

“I'm just—I was worried.” You told him softly. 

“About?” He raised a brow. 

“Not catching that person who pushed me.” You admitted. “I was scared of leaving my home after. But you were always there to make me feel better.” You pulled him back into you. 

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You spoke into his chest but he heard you just fine. 

“Hey, it's my job to.” He smiled softly, pulling you back. He gave the top of your head a kiss, making you feel warm. “I'll always take care of you.”

Tags : @cultofdionysusnet , @sandsofire , @k-vanity

[lilacliquors]

Hello :) I saw you are tking requests and I have something in mind for the prompt  [ TENSION ]  one muse is patching up the other’s injuries which leads to intense eye contact,  lingering touches and them finally crashing their lips against each other’s. maybe for Soldier boy But if you dont want to write it you dont need to so feel no pressure. have a nice day :)

patched

pairing: soldier boy x reader

prompt: [ TENSION ]  one muse is patching up the other’s injuries which leads to intense eye contact,  lingering touches and them finally crashing their lips against each other’s

word count: 767

contents: kissing, possible of blood, swearing, suggestive stuff, you know the drill

notes: this is just some classic stuff right here, we love kissing on this blog. and you have a lovely day yourself, nonnie!

it was a miracle he wasn't dead yet, with all the stupid shit he kept getting himself into. isn't wasn't every day payback had a serious threat to handle, they were mostly for show, but this time, he'd gone and gotten himself cut up. sure, the compound v in his system meant his injuries weren't as bad, but still, he was bleeding, and it was up to you to patch him up.

there he was, sitting on his couch in his cushy apartment, just waiting for you. he always refused to come down to medic, he thought he was above all of that. and you were the only one who didn't mind going to him. as long as you got the job done, and you got paid, that's what mattered.

he watched you as you set up your stuff, gauze pads and rubbing alcohol, pain killers and surgical thread for possible stitches, and his silence actually concerned you. normally, he was running his mouth, boasting or propositioning you, but you always ignored them.

"must've been pretty bad out there," you said finally as you gently dabbed at a slice in his arm with a gauze dampened with rubbing alcohol.

"wouldn't have been if those fuckheads kept their guard up," he muttered, eyes locked on the view from his window. you could see the horizon and beyond, and the sun was starting to set.

"bet it was the tnt twins," you said, only half joking.

"fucking a it was. fucking clowns can't get their shit together, and they need to touch their stupid little hands to even be worth something. if it were up to me, the pussies would be gone."

you simply nodded as you covered the gash with a non-sticking gauze that wouldn't rip a scab off. luckily, none of these cuts looked like they'd need stitches, which was a good sign.

"maybe you can say something to mister edgar. bad publicity is probably the last thing he wants right now," you said, reaching for another pad.

"not a bad idea. probably won't work, but then i can say i at least tried to rework this shitty fucking team."

again, you nodded. hero and team making policy wasn't your forte. but this was better than him ranting and raving like he normally would have done, along with the comments on your body. you looked him over once more and saw that the remaining cuts were littering his face, and inwardly, you groaned.

"uh, soldier boy?" you asked, and he turned his head slightly, an arched brow answering you. "you won't mind if i, uh..."

"darlin', you do whatever you need to do," he said, and there it was that signature smirk. at least he was sort of coming back to his old self.

with a soft sigh, you dampened another gauze pad and carefully eased onto the couch, settling your legs on either side of his so you were straddling him. it wasn't your ideal position, but it was the only way to reach everything.

you felt your face grow hot as you dabbed at the cuts. his eyes, those striking green eyes, were scanning your face, and as you went to disinfect the cut on his cheek, you found yourself gazing back into them. you'd never seen such beautiful eyes before, and it was like they were piercing your soul. gently, you brought a hand up to cup his face and turn his head, and to your surprise, he let you. and yet, his eyes were still locked on yours.

even after you finished and could move your hand, you didn't want to. even as he turned his head back to its original position, you didn't dare move. there was something unspoken, the tenderness with which you held him, it was foreign. and he couldn't help himself.

it was like you shared one single thought at that moment, and you were both quick to press your lips together in a searing kiss. his hands gripped your waist while yours cupped his face, and he couldn't let you go. one of his hands traveled up to lay flat on your back, pushing you against his chest, and you hummed, letting your thumbs caress his cheeks.

it was a kiss unlike any other. it didn't feel like he wanted anything more from you, just closeness. there was no rush for him to pull your top off you rip the pants form your legs, he just wanted to hold you. you, the only person who'd ever been gentle with him. and he didn't want to let you go.

[stayimpact]

Omegaverse - Chapter 4

Pairing : OT8 x Reader 

Genre : Omegaverse 

Warnings:   Angst, Felix is really jealous, smut, minor dni

Word count:   ~2,8k

When you regained consciousness, everything was blurry and confused. You were lying in a hospital bed with an IV attached to your arm. Your whole body felt sore as if you had been beaten. You tried to move but you were too weak. Indistinct sounds reached your ears, but you couldn't understand them and they hurt, your senses were still very sensitive.

Then a nurse came into the room. She smiled when she saw you awake and went over to you to check your vital signs. You tried to speak, but your voice was weak and hoarse. She handed you a glass of water that you drank eagerly.

"How do you feel?" she asked in a soft voice, almost whispering as if she knew which state I was in.

You nodded your head to say you didn't know. You were so sore all over that you couldn't tell what was normal and what wasn't. "You were unconscious for a few hours," she said.

"You have been unconscious for several days. Your body has undergone major changes," she began, you didn't understand what she was getting at and she must have understood your confusion and gave you a sympathetic look before continuing, "You are now an Omega, and we must take precautions to keep the Alphas away from you," the nurse explained.

You didn't understand what she meant, but you had a strange feeling. Your skin seemed more sensitive and soft. You felt as if your whole body had been reset, that you had become a new person.

"Why did I become an Omega...?" you asked, becoming more and more worried. "But how can that be? I mean, I was a Beta a few days ago and now you're telling me I'm an Omega?!" you pounded your fist on the bed in frustration "What am I going to do?! I have to work, earn a living in order to live! I don't want to be an Omega!!!" you cried and screamed.

The nurse hesitated, "I'm sorry ma'am... We don't really know even with the tests we gave you when you were unconscious..." she said, bowing her head, probably feeling useless and desperate not to be able to give you, her patient who was obviously in shock, any answers.

You had always been a Beta, independent and living a comfortable life that you enjoyed. Now that you were an Omega, submissive and vulnerable. A prey to the Alphas. You didn't know how you were going to cope with this new reality that had completely turned your life upside down, sweeping it away.

The nurse decided to leave the room to give you a few moments alone to gather your thoughts and reflect on the situation and returned a few minutes later with a tray of food. You were hungry and ate greedily. The food tasted strange, sweeter, and saltier than usual. You found it hard to identify the flavors.

You spent several days in the hospital, confined to a special ward for Omegas. Alphas were not allowed in, as their smell could disturb you and put you in danger. The nurses took great care of you. They wore masks to mask their smell and gloves to avoid direct contact, and a complete disinfection was done each time they entered and left the room.

Guests were not welcome inside, they could communicate with you through a secure glass window by texting or writing, microphones were removed from the room as a precaution, and an Alpha could probably endanger your life with just his voice.

You realized that your body had changed significantly. Your skin was softer and more sensitive, your hair was shinier, and you had gained a few pounds. You also noticed that you had a strong urge to reproduce, to find an Alpha to protect and cherish you.

It was a strange feeling that came over you as if someone was trying to manipulate you to their will. You didn't like it, maybe it was due to your change of sub-genre, but you still had the mind of a Beta, and it was fighting a power struggle with your new Omega side.

You had been isolated from everyone in this white room for several days, and after the doctors checked on the progress of your physical changes several times a day, they decided to explain to you what life was like as an Omega.

You learned that you were part of this 5% of the world's population, a very low number which surprised you because you thought that Omegas were at least 20% of the population. The doctors looked sadly at your remark, which you did not understand.

"In the last 30 years the number of Omegas has dropped drastically, for no reason at all," the gynecologist began, examining you, "On the contrary, the number of Alphas has increased by about 9%. The problem is that an Alpha can only breed with an Omega as you must already know." you nodded in confirmation "Being a species that has become... rare." he coughed to clear his throat "You Omegas have become a source of desire for them. A kind of trophy, a possession that drives them crazy and they fight to have you and keep you," the gynecologist explained as he finished his examination.

So your worries proved to be true. You had really become the prey in the cat-and-mouse game. But maybe it was the Omega in you that was controlling you, but the fight the day you fell unconscious with Felix didn't make you feel as uncomfortable as before. You even began to understand his reaction and it made you happy that he cared so much about you.

The next few days were quiet, but your transformation continued slowly but surely. His doctors had explained to you that you would soon go into heat, a very difficult time for Omegas when their bodies were in need of mating. They had also explained that Alphas would be even more attracted to you during this period and that you would have to be very careful.

You had a few options. You could either go into your first heat alone, or you could have a low-level Alpha look after you during this period. Unfortunately, the low-level Alphas were older people, as the pheromone level decreases with age.

The second solution made you want to vomit so you accepted the first. You wanted Felix to be there with you so much more than a stranger at your grandfather's age. A small tear came to your eye, he still hadn't come to see you in the hospital because of your fight with him the week before.

A few days passed and you began to feel the effects of your first-ever heat, the sensations were the same as at the presentation, your whole body was burning with desire and excitement.

You felt restless, and anxious and had abdominal pains. You felt a growing tension inside you, an irrepressible urge to feel the presence of an Alpha close to you, inside you. It scared you, but at the same time, you couldn't stop thinking about it. You needed their smell, their presence, their physical contact, you wanted to intoxicate yourself with it and stay there for the rest of your life.

You had heard that the heat lasts about a week and that it is very difficult for the Omegas to bear. You understood that you had to stay away from the Alphas during this critical period and that it was dangerous to leave the hospital before your heat had completely passed.

You had made a nest with the blankets of your hospital bed, a seemingly natural reflex for Omegas, in order to seduce an Alpha and mate to give birth to pups.

Despite the risks, you felt like your head would explode if you didn't find an Alpha soon. You had tried to distract yourself by reading books and watching movies, but nothing could calm your burning desire so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

The nurses had kindly brought you some sex toys to help with your heat after you refused to see an Alpha and you intended to use them. You stepped out of the nest you had created to close the curtain of the secured glass so that no one could see you and returned to the nest before removing your stockings.

You ran your hand between your folds with a moan, very sensitive to the touch. You rubbed your clit with one hand and massaged one of your breasts with the other, sometimes pinching your nipple which made you squeal.

You were soaking wet before you even started and you gently inserted one of your fingers, moving back and forth a few times before inserting another. Desire burned in your veins but it wasn't enough to satisfy you. You felt like you were going to go crazy.

It wasn't enough, you needed something else, something bigger and thicker. So you took off your top and threw it on the floor before grabbing a sex toy. It was shaped like a penis and reminded you of Felix's sex. You salivated at the sight of it and began to suck on the tip to lubricate it as you continued to push your fingers inside you, making you moan louder and louder.

You took more of the sex toy into your mouth, even choking slightly as you made a deep throat. You withdrew your fingers and the sex toy from you before getting down on all fours, your breasts resting on the mattress, and inserting the fake penis into yourself as if it were Felix penetrating you.

You let out a sigh of pleasure and closed your eyes, imagining that it was him pounding into you incessantly. You imagined he was grabbing your hips as he slammed his pelvis against yours on the floor, burying his sex deep inside you.

Your free hand grabbed the sheets, and you held them tight. Almost tearing them with your strength. You squealed loudly, powerfully. You imagined he suddenly grabbed your hair and kissed you, pushing his tongue in and wrapping it around yours.

A knot began to form in your stomach, and you moved back and forth more quickly with the sex toy. Your mind was foggy and you could hardly tell the difference between your fantasy and reality.

Your juices flowed down your thighs and you picked up a fast pace, tilting the sex toy so that it brushed your sweet spot with each stroke which made you scream as you drooled on the sheets, tears welling up in your eyes as it felt so good. The knot got tighter and tighter, and you felt you were about to cum.

You used your other hand to retrieve some of your juices to use to rub your clit quickly, your orgasm hit you almost instantly and the wave of heat invaded your whole body and you let out a long high pitched moan. You used the sex toy to prolong your orgasm, and gradually you came down from your height. Slowly coming to your senses.

Your heart was pounding, you had sweated profusely and you clearly needed a shower. You pulled the sex toy out with a wince, covered in your juices. You absolutely had to clean this up before the nurses came back.

A feeling of dehydration then set in, and you reached for your bottle to hydrate yourself. You emptied most of the contents before putting it down. And you lay down in your nest, falling asleep instantly.

However, you didn't know that there were several witnesses who heard everything from behind the glass. Felix felt he was going to go crazy when he heard you moaning earlier, a huge erection could be seen through his pants. So did Minho and Han, who had decided to visit you to check on you.

They used their hands to hide the tent in their pants and walked away from Felix who was glaring at them angrily "She's mine!!!" he muttered with a growl before walking to the door to enter the room to join you.

He was quickly stopped by the doctors and nurses but so caught up in his pheromones and your moans from earlier, he punched one of the doctors in the jaw to let him through. So that he could finally be at your side, taking care of you.

He fought hard, using his Taekwondo techniques to fend off the nurses and doctors. However, they were too many for him and he was quickly overpowered, a pain shot through his arm and he saw a syringe attached to it, a nurse had injected him with a sedative and he screamed in rage before passing out from the drug.

You had no idea of the turmoil that was going on behind the door of your hospital room, you were sleeping peacefully with your earlier activity that had completely exhausted you. Several days passed and you repeated your activities in the hope that it would stop. After 5 days it was finally over.

You stayed a few more days for observation, to make sure that your body had finally finished its transition and that your health was not affected. You were finally able to welcome visitors, provided that they took suppressants to avoid triggering a second heat.

Felix paid you a visit, he cried with joy when he saw you and threw himself into your arms. You stroked his hair as you cooed, letting him calm down. "I missed you Y/N!" he said as he cried, tears streaming down his cheeks, unable to calm himself.

You wrapped your hand around his cheek and kissed him gently in the hope of calming him down "I'm here... I'm here..." you cooed. You held back a small laugh, it was more his job to reassure you at this moment.

He calmed down after a moment and looked at you with red eyes. "Y/N I..." he began, stammering, his gaze avoiding yours. You waited patiently, a feeling of anxiety rising in your throat. "I'm so sorry, for the last time..." he said, wiping away a tear. "I was horrible to you on the day of the presentation. And...and I wish I could have been there for you when you needed me the most," he continues, grabbing your hand and kissing it.

You smile slightly, tears welling up in your eyes as well, his pheromones giving off sadness and you knew he meant it.

"I'm sorry I wasn't any help. I'm sorry I left you alone all that time without coming to see you. I was a jerk and I feel so bad about it," he said, his gaze still avoiding yours. You didn't answer, knowing he still wanted to say something else. "Even though your sub-genre has changed now, you are and always will be Y/N to me. I love you and will always love you," he finished with his lips quivering.

You didn't answer immediately and that made him sadder. "I'm sorry, you probably need time to think," he said as he stood up and walked towards the door, sniffing.

"Felix." you say simply, he stopped but didn't turn to you, clearly afraid to face you. "My Lixie," you say again, in a soft voice.

This time he turned to you. "Come back and sit down, Lixie, please," you ordered in the same tone, and he obeyed, returning to the chair near the bed, where he had been a few moments before.

You smile fondly as you look into his eyes and place your hand on his cheek. "You don't have to apologize, Lixie. You're here now and that's all that matters to me. You're still the one I love and will always love, no matter if you're an Alpha or an Omega," you said sincerely, your voice trembling slightly with emotion.

He looked into your eyes, tears still streaming down his cheeks, but this time with a smile of relief.

"I was actually afraid, afraid that my becoming an Omega would disgust you," you said and Felix looked at you wide-eyed from his chair, he was about to say something but you interrupted him, "But seeing you crying for me right now makes me realize that I was wrong to doubt you. »

He took your hand and squeezed it gently. "I'm so relieved to hear that. I love you, Y/N." he said with conviction. You smiled again and moved closer to him to kiss him gently on the lips. "I love you too, Lixie. And I'm so glad you're here with me now," you whisper against his lips.

He held you close, the tears had stopped flowing. "I'll always be here for you, Y/N. Always. Always," he said with determination. And you knew it was true. You had found each other, stronger and more in love than ever.

A/N: I did wrote smut again omg

Tag list: @mal-lunar-28

[ellascreams]

Memory, Mortality, and Apathy

[Members of The Agency, Zoraxis, and this fandom, have all found themselves wondering how Phoenix survives so many things, and there have been many theories. Phoenix is worse at theorizing, but they’ve been wondering how even more than anyone else.]

There were hardly any Zoraxis or Agency employees who didn’t know the name Agent Phoenix. There were hardly any who hadn’t heard of them surviving things like being crushed under a building they just fell from or atmospheric reentry. There was hardly anyone in their line of work who hadn’t wondered how Phoenix did it.

Many people came up with their own theories. Plenty of people tried to ask them about it directly. Even some of the heads of the EOD asked them how they did it, and Reginald had asked them many times. Still, they never told anyone. They never even said anything. They’d simply put their pointer finger in front of their smug smile.

The secret to the Phoenix’s survival was something only they knew, or so everyone seemed to think. They did have a secret only they knew. The secret was that they were just as confused as everybody else.

There was no logical way they could’ve survived the Death Engine. Phoenix knew this because they had tried several times to think of one. But no. No matter how many times they tried, they always came to the same conclusion. They shouldn’t have survived. No wonder Zor bought their fake death. It made way more sense than the truth.

Then there was the Peace Summit. They had a much higher chance of surviving that so it wouldn’t be that odd if it wasn’t for literally everything else. If it wasn’t part of this pattern of them escaping death practically or relatively unscathed.

There were different types of unscathed, by the way. During their many trips to infirmaries, Phoenix noticed that even Agency doctors had their own codes. “Unscathed” meant what it was supposed to mean. They escaped with absolutely no injuries. “Practically unscathed” meant that they had gotten a few scrapes or cuts, but it wasn’t anything bad. It was injuries that really only needed some disinfectant and bandages, if not ointment and bandaids. “Relatively unscathed” meant that they were seriously injured, but they should have died, or at the very least had the decency to fall into a coma.

While Phoenix was never truly unscathed, they usually didn’t get very hurt. They broke their leg at the Peace Summit, which was the main reason it took them so long to contact Reginald, and they were covered in burns after the Death Engine, but both times they were still missing some injuries they should’ve had. Like concussions. They had never gotten a concussion. And while they were almost sure that was just dumb luck, it still worried them, because it meant they couldn’t make any excuses for their memory loss.

The Death Engine. They remembered being there. In space. The explosion and Solaris’s cries. The strange sensation of falling, but not because gravity was pulling them, it was because something was pushing them towards the world below. Then gravity began to pull. Then… well something must’ve happened. Maybe the air pressure or lack of oxygen made them pass out. That was perfectly reasonable, but Phoenix didn’t know if what was reasonable mattered anymore.

They had some very vague and fuzzy memories of getting medical attention. But their next clear memory was being back in their office with Reginald’s voice in their ear again, and a slight burning pain all over their left side and torso. They remembered it feeling like they had been half asleep and then suddenly woken up. They knew that time had passed in that weird way they just knew that every time they woke up, and they were generally aware of everything that had just happened, but if they tried to remember anything specific it got all weird and dream like.

They remembered the Peace Summit. They remembered the feeling of falling the normal way, where gravity was pulling them downwards. They remembered being so relieved that they stopped Zor, the world seemed to slow down. All seemed calm, even though it was anything but. Their muscles relaxed as they enjoyed the feeling of the wind rushing around them. Maybe they fell asleep. It wouldn’t have been that odd if they did, they were really tired, and they tended to feel very relaxed when they thought they were going to die. The worst was already happening, so why worry? Why not take a moment, their last moment, to rest?

They remembered waking up with a broken leg pretty well because WOW did that hurt. You’d think a spy would get used to that, but no. Pain catching up when adrenaline wears off will always be unpleasant for everyone who experiences it. Then they remembered climbing out of rubble. Everything after that sort of blurred together. It was a lot of walking, limping, searching, and surviving. How long did it take them to find that base? A couple hours? A couple weeks? They didn’t know. But who would know in a situation like that? Then they got to the base and they remembered everything so clearly.

They remembered their other missions almost entirely. Well, they blacked out during Operation KBOOM so they didn’t remember all of that one, but there was a good explanation for that. Phoenix was pretty sure human brains weren’t designed for any amount of telekinesis, but they were positive human brains hadn’t been designed for that much telekinesis.

The important thing is that they could remember most of their missions all the way through in a way that made sense. In a way where it would actually make less sense for there to be something else there they had forgotten. Therefore, those memories should have been normal. But they weren’t.

Every now and then, when Phoenix thought back to a mission, they got this strange feeling that something was… off. Like something small was being blocked out. Like they were missing a couple moments, or something they remembered thinking wasn’t actually what they’d been thinking at the time, or maybe even that something or someone else was there with them. But they were sure that if they added in what they thought was missing, the memory would’ve made less sense.

How did Agent Phoenix survive so many things? Were they forgetting something? What was the secret to their success? Those questions were too broad. They started asking themself smaller questions.

Did any of this have to do with their TK implant? How were they supposed to know? They guessed that if these… symptoms only started after getting their implant, it was probably related to the implant. Phoenix didn’t remember forgetting anything before the implant. They didn’t have many near death experiences back then, so they weren’t sure if they could’ve avoided death. They had been pretty immune to anesthetics and stuff their whole life.

That led Phoenix to their next question: was being pretty immune to anesthetics and stuff related to everything else? Alcohol was supposed to mess with memories, so surely it wouldn’t affect their memories if it didn’t affect them any other ways, right? Then again, their odd constitution did make them resistant to certain poisons, and those could be lethal. That meant it was yet another thing that protected them from death.

They were assuming the cause was scientific, but what if it was magical? Phoenix didn’t believe in magic but they were open to being proven wrong. Maybe they were blessed with some sort of immortality, or luck, or something a while back. Actually, would it have been a blessing or a curse? They weren’t sure they liked it. They weren’t sure they disliked it either.

Question after question they discovered dead end after dead end. They had no idea what had been happening to them and they had no way of finding out. They considered asking Prism for her help. Maybe together they could find the answer. But they shook their head.

No matter how many questions they asked, how many hours they spent thinking, no matter how hard they tried, Phoenix couldn’t get themself to care that much. They felt like they should. Normal people would be worried or curious about these things happening to them. Normal people might even feel bad about having some weird protection, like they were cheating somehow. But they saw no issue with cheating if it meant saving the world, and they didn’t need to know about any strange powers they might have, so why bother knowing about them?

If an opportunity ever presented itself, Phoenix would be happy to learn what has happening to them. Until then, they decided they just didn’t care enough, and they stopped thinking about it. Eventually, something would remind them of their situation, then they’d start thinking about it all over again. It might take them a while to escape this cycle.