#(my body is not quiet right now. my body is sending up fire sirens) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yoongsisbae · 3 years ago

Text

Bon Voyage: Into the Sea - Chapter 3

BTS fantasy AU. OT7 x reader. werewolf!Namjoon x werewolf!Hoseok x werewolf!Jungkook x siren!Yoongi x vampire!Jimin x vampire!Jin x whatis?Taehyung. This is the "vampire chapter" :'D

Thank you for all the love on this random nightmarish story lol. This extra update is for all the readers who made it my most popular post! Thank you! <3 Also this is my contribution to the start of the spooky season :D

Warnings: Hi, remember when I said this was horror? This chapter in particular is pretty horrific, you have been warned! blood, fighting between m/w, blood, graphic violence, blood, imprisonment, blood, blood, blood, minor character death, vampires doing vampire things including noncon blood drinking, human imprisonment, mind manipulation, stockholm syndrome, dubious consent, slut shaming, anal, degradation, foursome, orgasm control, orgasm denial, what a ride, you must be over 18 to ride this ride, scary scary scary

Word Count: 22k

---

“Scared, y/n?” Jimin’s face sends you a wicked smile.

You look back and forth between the men, uttering an unconvincing “No.”

Seokjin speaks again, “You should be.”

---

‘So did you get the answers you are looking for?’ You sit up, jolted out of your sleep, Hoseok’s words echoed softly in your mind.

Seokjin moved so fast, his striking face in front of you in an instant, his red eyes centimeters from yours, delicate lips curving into a smile over his fangs as water splayed around where he stood. That was the last thing you remember.

He smiled down at you sweetly and held you by the neck, putting pressure on your vein until you passed out. It all happened so fast your scream remained halted until this moment. The response came out of you abruptly, as fleeting as the memory.

And now where the hell were you? It looked like the room of an old bed and breakfast; large bed, writing desk, love seat, high windows; but to your captors the breakfast on the menu was you.

The first thing you notice is how the curtains are drawn together blocking the sunlight, but you know it’s there, just out of reach, as evidenced by the small line of light that trails its top edge. The room you found yourself in was dark, from the wallpaper to the furniture, the stillness unsettling, you listened as your own rapid breathing filled the silence.

You were seated right in the middle of a king size bed. They left you atop the cleanly-made white bed sheets, a treat placed in the center of a platter. You shiver, your clothes still remained damp from the night before, cold and stuck to your skin. That is why you shiver, you tell yourself, because you don’t hear them, but you feel them...watching you...

You build up enough courage to scan the room, and that’s when you see two pairs of red orbs staring back at you from the corners’ shadows, glowing in the darkness. Eyes of beasts, watching you, studying you.

You try not to react, not show your captors how scared you are, but every mechanism in your body betrays you, and the pair immediately pick up on your rapidly beating heart, the sweat on your brows, your unsteady breathing-

“Good morning, y/n,” Seokjin says, walking out of the shadows. Jimin stays hidden, but you can hear his soft laughter.

Those answers you wanted, where are they?

Seokjin slowly moves to the edge of the bed. “It seems like our friends have taken quite an interest with you and I want to find out why. Is that okay?”

You purse your lips, keeping your eyes trained on the thin strip of light showing at the top of the window curtains. You sit in silence. Has your breathing always been this loud? The shaking of Seokjin’s legs, a sign of his growing impatience, rattles the bed and your resolve.

He clasps his hands together, finally saying “If you don’t want to speak to me,” he leans in slightly and whispers the rest, “I can always let Jimin pry information out of you, but I don’t think you’d appreciate that very much.”

The pounding of your heart and the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach makes you feel like you’re going to become sick at any minute, but you manage to form a coherent sentence to ask him, “What do you want to know?”

“First, I want your permission to find out,” he speaks softly, placing a gentle hand on your calf, but you flinch away anyways. That’s a loaded question if you ever heard one. You wonder if it’s all an act, the same way Jimin fooled you. You stay silent.

Seokjin sighs again, looking over his shoulder, “Jimin?”

“No!” you yell. “Not Jimin! You...you, okay I give you permission.”

“Thank you, y/n.” He smiles, “I’ll be gentle.”

You yelp. Seokjin’s cold hand travels down your leg, wraps around your ankle and pulls you down the bed closer to his body, and in an instant his lean frame is hovering over yours. This close, his beauty is intimidating alone, but his eyes feel like they are piercing through you, digging inside, seeing all the ugly secrets you try to hide from even yourself, you feel like you could catch fire the way his gaze burns you.

He holds you down loosely by the neck, fingers searching for a pulsing vein, eyes focused on you with the concentration of a doctor performing surgery. Seokjin wipes away the tears that begin spilling from your eyes and smirks, “Don’t cry Dove, I promise this time will be the least pain you’ll experience from now on.” His words are devoid of any real sympathy, a false comfort, a looming warning.

You consider fighting back, but in this position there is no way you would be able to reach for your dagger (hidden away in a secret pocket in the front of your corset) without Seokjin stopping you, and even if you were lucky enough, there’s still Jimin, waiting in the shadows.

So you choose to wait, and try to find comfort in Seokjin’s twisted words. It could be worse. A tiny voice inside you reminds you it will become worse. You’ll just have to escape before then. You take a deep steadying breath, preparing yourself.

Don’t cry.

Seokjin’s lips latch onto your neck, soft and full as he rolls his tongue harshly over your pulse point. Goosebumps bloom across your body, and you try to focus on the sunlight rather than the vampire above you and his overwhelming aura, that sliver of light that you pray won’t dim.

This could be worse. This could be more painful. This could be Jimin.

Seokjin can feel the jumping of your pulse against his tongue. The vampire wants to know your story, what is it about you that riled Jimin up more than he’s ever seen him. But with your sweet scent enveloping him and the cocktail of emotions Seokjin’s keen senses could smell: fear and anger and mounting arousal, you smelled better to him than the finest wine and he can’t stop himself from teasing you a little longer, drink it in just a bit more and savor the moment.

Seokjin still understood the importance of ‘living’ in the present, he enjoyed taking his time with things. Others would have gone mad by now with the infinite amount of time, but not Seokjin, he used it to his advantage. Your warm body, your addicting smell, the softness and saltiness of your skin, the shifts in your breathing, Seokjin took his time to savor the gifts of life that he still missed.

You try not to react to his sensual touches, tensing your body under him, until you feel two sharp pricks on the surface of your skin. Your reaction is involuntary, you grip the bedsheets with your fists and let out a soft cry, moving against him. His bite hurt for only a second, like a pin prick, but Seokjin in his precision had nicked an artery for optimum bloodshed. With each gasp of breath you take, with each pounding beat of your heart, you feel your blood drain as it escapes the punctures in your neck and into Seokjin’s waiting mouth.

Seokjin groans against your skin, sending fire through your veins, pressing himself harder into your body. The vampire is better at keeping his physical responses to blood drinking at bay than Jimin, but he hasn’t had a new taste in awhile, and you’re so responsive.

When he pulls away from you you reach to cover your neck and stop the blood, a reflex in an attempt to save your own life, but Seokjin grabs your wrists before you can, pinning you to the bed, studying, his red gaze challenging you.

You gasp as the blood rushes out down your neck, over the sheets, seeping into your clothes. ‘They’ll underestimate you...’ Yoongi’s words replay in your mind and you stay still. No matter how much you want to fight back, this time you have to be smarter, you have to believe in Yoongi’s words.

Jimin has stayed quiet for this long, staying in the shadows, but your whimpers and grunts of pain are music to Jimin’s ears, the blood pouring from your body like an offering to him. His groans can be heard from the shadows.

He holds himself back for now, waiting for his turn. Jimin wonders where all that fight went, he had expected a show, for you to thrash away from the older vampire like you did the merman. He can’t help but feel a little disappointed. When it’s his turn, he thinks, you’ll become more entertaining then.

You watched in silence as Seokjin licked his lips clean of your blood. The red liquid that he had stolen from you, that was now steadily seeping from your wound and covering the white bedsheets underneath you, like a Rorschach picture mapping your life. “You’re strong,” he grins, speaking too tenderly for the brutality he was inflicting. “Stop fighting and it will end sooner, y/n. Let me into your mind.”

What does that even mean?! In your blood loss the tips of your fingers begin to feel cold like your captor’s, your head pounds and your vision blurs with each passing moment as the blood drains from your artery, you don’t want to give in, but if it will end this torture...

You shut your eyes tightly, and turn your head to expose your bleeding neck further to the monster above you. When Seokjin lowers his lips to your neck, you try to think of sweet Jungkook instead, his warm body instead of Seokjin’s cold one. You didn’t dare wish to be with him again, you didn’t dare think you made a mistake, that you should have stayed. Now all you can do is hope you can save him and yourself from this horrible island. Jungkook doesn’t deserve to be imprisoned with the likes of them.

Seokjin drinks the warm liquid pouring from your throat. You listen to him gulping down your blood, How much longer, until he finds what he’s looking for? You feel your fight escape you with each swallow, you feel yourself slipping away. It reminds you of drowning, it reminds you of Yoongi and how he kissed life into you instead, but this was the kiss of death.

‘Yoongi,’ you close your eyes and think of him. And then you felt it, the pull inside your mind. Your current circumstance falls away in shambles, your memories are pulled out of you through the cracks, the images race through your mind as Seokjin bears witness to it all.

---

Yoongi sits at the table, hair and clothes dry, turning his head to see you awake.

The relief that softens his features as he’s walking to your side.

The delicate way he places the hairpiece back in its place.

The way his eyes melt at your words.

Why hadn’t you seen it before? Seokjin saw it all. The way Yoongi screams at you, the rage and embarrassment in his eyes as he tells you how much he can’t stand you, the way he licks his lips when you yell back. His eyes studying you when you yank him closer, full of anger and full of-

You weakly push against Seokjin, you don’t want to remember, you don’t want to miss him. You can’t stop it, you can’t stop the memories flooding through your system.

You suddenly remember Jungkook’s sparkling round eyes watching you, wanting you, the crinkle of his nose when he laughs, the pink flush on the edges of his ears when you talk to him, the muscles of his arms flexing as he cages you under him, his deep groaning in your ear, the vein in his neck when he pushes into your wet heat, the truth in his voice when he says he’ll protect you.

You feel Seokjin’s hands travel down your body the same way you remembered Jungkook. You curse him in your mind, but your body couldn’t tell the difference, your stomach tightens and you’re no longer cold, warmth spreads over you to the tips of your toes.

You want to scream, scream for Jungkook, but you’re frozen, lost in your own thoughts, confused by your senses. Jungkook feels as real as Seokjin, but you know he’s not really there, no matter how much you wanted it to be true.

You remember Hoseok’s harsh looks, the growing anger in his eyes, the hurt in his eyes, the pain in his eyes, the pain still present in his eyes even in his wolf form when he howls and cries at you. He’s begging you to stay, he’s telling you he can’t bear to lose someone again. How could you leave them? Why can’t they be enough for you? Hoseok will treat you better, if you just stay with him, please. You understand his barks and howls now, because Seokjin understands. Tears well up in your eyes and you try to move away, but Seokjin is too solid, too powerful, and unyielding in his search.

Namjoon’s eyes are on you as you eat next to his brothers at dinner, filled with nothing but warmth and happiness. Those brown eyes, you miss them. You feel dizzy and helpless, you can’t take it anymore. You grab a fistful of Seokjin’s hair to try to pull him off of you.

“What have you done to Jimin? What have you done?!” Namjoon’s voice roars in your memory. But it’s not any memory you remember having. Before you realize what you are doing, your hands hold on tightly to Seokjin’s hair, pulling him closer and holding him to you so you can see more.

---

“It-It wasn’t me...” The tall vampire is covered in blood. Some of it is Jimin’s blood, yes, but the majority of blood that drips down his face and hands, that covers his clothes, belongs to five other men. Dead men. Men who beat the broken man in his arms to the brink of death.

Seokjin found his dear friend screaming in pain. He saw them over Jimin’s bleeding body, blood Seokjin treasured just as much as he treasured his bond with the compassionate and playful man. His friend, Jimin, who wailed for Seokin, for Namjoon, for Hoseok, for Taehyung, for anyone to help him, while his bones cracked, lying in the dirt, choking on his own blood, precious blood.

Seokjin explained to Namjoon when he saw them laughing, like hyenas over a carcass, spitting hateful slurs down at Jimin, he couldn’t control himself. Seokjin tore them apart one by one. He chased each one down like the pathetic animals they were, and tore the limbs that touched his dear friend straight from their bodies.

Seokjin had been weak, he had become too accustomed to the harmonious life he and Namjoon had created for themselves. Had it been decades before, he would have endured, but living with the pack had softened him too much and he couldn’t stand the pain of losing Jimin, so when he found a weak pulse he gave Jimin as much of his venomous blood as he could.

Namjoon simply nods at the information, his weary eyes examining his two friends, friends who were like family to him. He didn’t want to lose Jimin either. “We need to take him somewhere safe...to the island, before he wakes up,” Namjoon places a hand on the trembling vampire’s shoulder.

“What if he doesn’t wake up?” the vampire’s voice shakes, he notices the cuts on Jimin’s face and body have yet to heal themselves.

“That’s not something you should be worried about,” Namjoon runs his hand through Jimin’s tangled hair, gently placing the dark strands back into place, his eyes filling with tears, “it’s when he wakes up, we need to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

Seokjin nods weakly.

“Go now. I’ll clean up the mess, brother.”

Your hands fall, the blood loss making you too weak to grip onto Seokjin’s hair. Seokjin had taken more blood than he intended, lost in his own memories.

The vampire pulls away from you, even as the edges of your vision blurs, you see his eyes, glowing red and glassy with unshed tears, staring at you with a mixture of pain and surprise. He shakes away his bewilderment and rips into the flesh of his wrist, placing the cut across your lips as you can no longer hold consciousness.

---

When you wake again it’s night time, the light behind the curtains has left you.

Your body aches. You run your fingers along your neck, searching for the punctures, and you can only feel smooth skin crusted in dried blood. Your head feels like it’s splitting. You groan in pain.

You see Jimin before you hear him, and even then you’re not sure if your brain created the sounds to ease your mind as he stalks closer to your waking form.

“Finally! Now what could you have possibly done to Jin?” Jimin says, contemplating the reason his friend holed himself up in his office, refusing to speak to Jimin or even look at him.

He jumps on the bed, shaking your already pounding head. “He refuses to let me bite you,” he whines, “Explain now, pet.” Jimin prods you with his foot. “Explain what memory of yours Seokjin pulled.”

You just groan back, turning away from Jimin, burying your head into the cold pillows of your bed, one of the few things not soaked in your blood. Everything is so cold you can’t stand it. Jimin places a hand on your shoulder to make you face him. Cold fingers touch your skin, everything is cold.

“Don’t touch me!” you pull away from him, yelling.

Your face stings. Jimin had slapped you hard, you come to the realization only after the fact, the skin he touched burns hot. It makes you laugh, because you wanted warmth, didn’t you?

Jimin’s eyes narrow on you, “Say that again, I dare you.”

You bite back tears and ask, “What the fuck happened to you?!”

“So you’re back to being a disrespectful brat. You’re not on the same level as me, human. Learn to behave.”

“No! What happened to you to make you so heartless? What changed you?” How did the bleeding man you saw Namjoon cry over in Seokjin’s memories become this monster? He was human at one point too, you wouldn’t have believed it if you didn’t see it for yourself.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “Don’t act like you know anything about me, bitch.”

You take a deep breath trying to calm your temper. Not only had you seen Seokjin’s memories, you had felt his emotions. His pain lingers in you still, beside the fear and hatred you feel, you look at Jimin and feel...sorry for him. You have to look down, the emotions are too much and too overwhelming. It was easier when all you knew was the monster before you. Jimin takes your silence as obedience instead.

“Now can you be a good little pet and answer my question,” he says, tapping you on the head hard enough to make your headache roar back to life. You flinch and search the eyes of the man before you. Or rather the shell of a man, you think bitterly.

And what a beautiful shell it is. Jimin is stunning, bright white hair pulled away and styled so you can see the delicate features of his face. He holds himself gracefully, like a dancer, his elegant figure hiding his true strength. You wonder what he was like before turning into a monster, what kind of man was he? Someone whom Namjoon cared for.

“It wasn’t my memory...you. I saw you…” You whisper, knowing Jimin’s sharp senses can hear you loud and clear, “I saw Seokjin turn you.” Silence falls over the room again, a silence so deafening you start to hear the pounding in your head becoming louder.

The vampire stares at you, soft features stoic. He looked lost in thought, you pictured his face full of cuts, bloody lip, black eye, human, and Seokjin so unsure, scared, worried, trembling, so unlike themselves now.

“How did he turn me?” It surprised you how genuine Jimin’s question sounded. Did he really not know?

You keep your mouth shut, you don’t think it would be wise on your part to tell him. Jimin seems like the type to shoot the messenger. Unfortunately, unlike Seokjin, Jimin had little to no patience. His expression changes like lightning, full of anger. He pulls you by the hair dragging you off the bed and onto the floor.

The vampire crouches over you and grabs your face, holding you down to the wood floor, pressing his sharp nails into the skin of your cheeks making you yell.

“Ahh there’s your voice! Tell me.”

“Why don’t you ask Seokjin?!”

“But I rather you just do as I say,” he says playfully, as his fingers dig harder into your skin, cutting the flesh and drawing blood.

“Why don’t you just bite me, then?!” You spit the words out through clenched teeth.

You watch the vampire lick his lower bottom lip, thinking it over briefly as he pulls your face closer to his, you struggle against his painful grip. “How impetuous...” he watches you squirm like an insect stuck in glue. “You’re rather dumb, aren’t you?”

Should you reach for your dagger now? Should you try to kill Jimin?

Every time you thought about hurting him, you remembered Seokjin’s crying face, and you wanted to cry as well, what was happening to you?

“Jimin, leave us.” Jin stands in the doorway to your room.

Jimin stands up in a huff, letting you go. You fall back onto the hardwood floor. He balances on his heels, ignoring you and scrutinizing Seokjin. He wanted to question the older vampire, he has so many questions now, but decides against it. What does it matter anyways? The idea of being a weak and powerless human revolts him. “I’m getting impatient,” he says before he leaves, slamming the door and making you jump.

“T-thank y-you.” You try to calm your breathing.

Seokjin looks at you with a frown, extending his hand out to you. You hesitate and place your hand in his and he easily lifts you to your feet. You watch the older vampire walk slowly around the room, drawing his fingers along the furniture he passes. You stand awkwardly, you don’t think making a run for it would gain you any favors right now.

“I’m hungry,” Seokjin says. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it, continuing to meander around the room, waiting for your response.

You clench your jaw. So this is what you’ve been reduced to, you think, a late night snack. “Are you going to just keep me trapped in this room? I’m hungry too, I haven’t eaten anything-”

“Dinner's already passed. Before I let you go roaming around, I need to make sure you’re going to behave yourself, do you understand?”

No, you don’t understand at all. It sounds like he’s going to starve you into subservience, and you have to get out of this room, you have to find the portal.

“I will do as you say...please...” you walk over to where he’s standing, trying your best to seem meek. “I’m starving,” you reason, “I’m sure you know how it feels to hunger for something” you say, turning your head to stare at the windows, curtains now open to the night sky, extending your neck to the vampire. His eyes are pulled to your attention, following the lines of your shoulder. You roll your neck, loosening the stiff muscles, moving close enough to him that your chest bumps into his. You look up into Seokjin’s eyes through your lashes, “I-I will behave.”

Seokjin smiles, bringing his head down into the curve of your neck, lips skirting across the skin. Your fingers reach up to caress the back of his head. You can see the pair of you in the bedroom mirror. Another myth proven wrong, you think, as you study your seduction, how his lean frame bends closer to yours, his arms wrapping around the lower part of your back.

In truth, Seokjin wasn’t hungry. He had taken more than enough blood from you this morning already, but Seokjin wanted to see if lightning could strike twice. Never had the pull been so strong for him that a human had been able to enter his memories, not even when Jimin was alive. He needed to learn more.

Seokjin licks your face, tongue tracing the cuts Jimin’s nails left behind. You hold your breath, trying to act like you enjoyed it. You hated it, you wished you could stick Yoongi’s dagger into Seokjin’s cold dead heart and be done with it already.

Seokjin trails kisses back to the place he bit you before. He keeps kissing your sensitive skin until his lips reach your ear and he whispers, “I’m not Jungkook, little Dove, you’ll have to do better than that.”

You stumble backwards but it’s too late, Seokjin already has you in his clutches.

He pulls you into a tight embrace, walking you backward even more. His bite is precise, you suspect perfectly precise to where he bit you this morning. Your arms are locked tightly in between your bodies as he holds you to him.

Thunder roars in your memory, you feel yourself drowning. Your muscles ached, your lungs burned. You feel Yoongi’s hand on your ankle, pulling down, hand on your waist, pulling down, hand on your neck, pulling you closer, his lips on your lips-

You cry and yell against Seokjin’s grasp. Cold turns to warmth as you see Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok laughing around the firepit, and Seokjin, and Jimin, laughing too. Yoongi sits with a calm expression on his face, his lips curved upward, and a man you don’t recognize sits next to him-

Seokjin yanks his mouth away from you and you fall backward, back hitting the bed while you struggle to breath. You cover the holes on your neck with your palm to stop the rushing blood.

“How?” is all Seokjin can say, shaken by the happy memory that even he had forgotten about.

You stare up at the high ceiling dazed and too weak to move, “Do I...” you can feel the blood spill between the gaps of your fingers, “look...” you gasp, “like a vampire expert...to you?”

Seokjin moves to the window, his back to you. He watches the waning moon and lets his mind wander to his old friends. If they were off the island, he could see a scenario where you and he would meet at a bar, laugh over drinks, but the ending would always be the same. “You look,” he looks over his shoulder at you, “like you could use a drink,” his lips curving into a half smile.

“Are you,” you gasp, “offering?”

He walks over to you slowly, bringing his wrist to his mouth, and then extends the sliced skin to your mouth, waiting expectantly.

You take his offering bitterly, gulping down the metallic liquid, the wounds burn like fire as they heal over. The pain is nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. You shut your eyes tightly, you want to cry, or scream, but like Namjoon said, no one can help you here. You feel fingers intertwine with your bloody fingers, pulling your bloodied hand away as you weakly protest. The room spins, even if your wounds are healed, your blood is still gone and you’re feeling the effects of two feedings.

Seokjin brings your hand to his lips and licks away the blood, tongue circling your fingers. “This can hurt or it can feel good,” he says slowly.

You laugh, delirious from hunger and blood loss. “I wonder, that memory,” you gasp, still laughing, “does it bother you to be reminded of your humanity? Does it hurt you?”

You probably shouldn’t have said that, but the blood loss is doing funny things to you, or maybe you just really wanted to get a reaction from the guarded man, no, guarded vampire.

If your accusation angered Seokjin he didn’t show it with any emotion, instead he sighed and bent over you, biting down hard on your shoulder. The searing pain makes you scream. You cry out, not expecting the sharp and throbbing kind of ache from his bite as Seokjin’s teeth stayed deep in your flesh.

Seokjin pulls another memory out of you, and you curse your luck in remembering Jungkook again, remembering his tanned and muscled body next to yours. Jungkook kissing your knuckles and telling you how he’s yours now. Jungkook kissing down your body. His head between your legs, his mouth feverishly licking at your folds. The more you try not to think about him the stronger the memories feel. The pain in your shoulder dulls as your legs tighten around the vampire's sides.

Perhaps it was your bloodloss mixed with Seokjin’s bloodlust seeping into your consciousness, the memory of Jungkook’s length buried deep inside you and feeling of Seokjin’s growing bulge pressed against your stomach makes your head spin and you just want to feel more. You hear Namjoon’s deep authoritative voice whispering dirty things in your ear, it makes you shudder, a moan escapes your throat-

Seokjin pulls away from you abruptly at that, his eyes are deep red, so dark they look black. He watches as your body twitch in pain, as he focuses on calming the storm of human emotions, your emotions, running through him, as he tries to forget the compromising memory of his old friend. He bites down on his bottom lip until he draws blood, his blood mixing with your own blood in his mouth, and he presses his lips on yours.

You realized how passionate Yoongi’s kisses were compared to Seokjin’s. The merman was distant, but his actions were full of feeling, whether they be good or bad. Seokjin was cold in body and mind, a hard shell, you felt like you were kissing a statue as you choked on his blood, the liquid metallic and sweet.

You can feel the punctures in your skin closing, it hurts so much worse than when he bit you, you distract yourself by licking into his mouth, feeling his tongue against yours.

Seokjin jumps off of you the second your wounds are healed and leaves without saying a word. You can hear the door lock in your daze.

You scoff, what was up with him, you wonder, dining and dashing like that. The blood loss has you quickly falling asleep despite wanting to use the time alone to plan your escape.

---

They both leave you alone all day until night again. You wake up hungry and weak. When Seokjin wordlessly stalks towards you that night you tell him so.

“I still can’t trust you to play well with others.”

“I need food! I need to eat! I am not a goddamn vampire like you! I can’t survive off your blood!” You throw your pillow at him. Should you have done that? Probably not, but you’re too hungry to care.

Seokjin pauses, looks at the floor where the pillow lays at his feet after coming in contact with his chest. “I’ll bring you food later tonight, now lie down, I’m hungry too.”

Ugh.

---

There were so very little things now that intrigued Seokjin, and this connection had become a mystery he wanted to solve. The strength of his pull on you was so intense it had become almost addicting to feel for Seokjin.

A vampire's pull had always been one-sided, but this pull acted like a wave, crashing onto the shore of your consciousness, pulling back and forth, dragging his memories along the current too.

Promised food, you comply, lying down against your better judgement. You glare at him as he lies next to you, and he smooths your furrowed features with his fingers instead of matching your anger. It makes you feel self conscious, the way he watches you with searching eyes. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

“So demanding, do you want me to bite you that badly?”

Is he teasing you? “No. I don’t. At all!”

“Okay then.” he lies back down, his arms underneath his head.

You sit up to look down at him. “Is this a joke?”

“I’ll wait, I don’t mind. I can wait for days, the question is can you?”

If you tried to stab him now he would definitely be able to stop you. Too bad. “I think I can’t stand you.”

“You barely know me!”

“I’ve seen enough,” you scoff.

“I’ve lived a long time,” Seokjin says, serious again, “you don’t care to see more? Who I really am?”

“Who are you?”

“Let me bite you and find out,” he winks.

'Well, he seems to be in a better mood,' you think. You wonder why he is even bothering to ask you, you’re his prisoner, after all. “So this is not just about feeding anymore?”

“I’m a vampire, of course it is.”

You sigh, you’re hungry and tired from blood loss. “Okay, bite me, but choose some place else,” you rub the sensitive spot on your neck and shiver. “NOT THERE!”

Seokjin stops pushing your legs open. “But there is an artery in your leg-”

Your face goes hot, you shove your wrist in his face. “Here then!” He sighs and lies back down again, pulling you over his body easily. You sit awkwardly against his lap as you watch his fangs prick your inner wrist. The blood loss this time wasn’t so bad, but it still made your weak body sway, your free hand bracing yourself against his chest.

He does the same thing to you again, pulls memories of your life. You saw memories from before the boat wreck to your childhood, and you saw glimpses of Seokjin’s life as well. You learned at one point in his very long life he stopped being a complete monster and became a part time bartender.

For decades he moved from taverns, to pubs, to bars. The perfect career, and as his beautiful looks were admired everywhere he went, he was never short of meal options. You woke in the morning and you laid on clean sheets, there was water for you and bread and butter and jam, an apricot and an apple, food not found on an island. The portal.

Tonight. This night you will be ready for Seokjin. You quickly realized you weren’t just remembering with Seokjin, you were feeling, and he was feeling too. If you could distract him well enough with a memory, you think you’d be able to escape!

---

Tonight Jimin walks into your room instead.

“Where’s Seokjin?”

“You didn’t miss me?” He holds a pear in his hand, throwing it up in the air and catching it easily. “He is busy, the others were feeling neglected by him-”

“There are others? Other humans?!”

Jimin smirks at your wide eyes. “Yes, pet, did you think you were special?” You swallow, keeping your questions to yourself. So Seokjin really meant it when he talked about playing well with others. Who were they and how long have they been here? Could some of them be your friends? Maybe you weren’t the only survivor on your boat! More humans, more people to help you fight against Seokjin and Jimin, if you could just meet them and somehow convince them...

Jimin heard your accelerating heartbeat, could see the happiness dance across your features. “What ever you are thinking, I suggest against it. Actually, go ahead and try, I haven’t punished anyone in so long.”

“Are you going to bite me or not?”

“Oh, so now you’re eager for it, it’s always the same.”

“Still not allowed, huh? Must suck to be you. Ha! Get it?”

“Do you think you’re being cute? Jin said I can’t bite you, he didn’t say anything about not hurting you.” Jimin throws the pear in the air again, “What? No clever retort?”

“I don’t know about Seokjin,” you speak softly, “but you used to be human, why do you act like this?” You watch as Jimin drops the pear on the ground and steps on the fruit with his feet. You bite your lip. What a waste. You consider pulling out your dagger just for that.

“Being human?” Jimin runs a hand through his hair, “I don’t remember anything about that. I can’t imagine being so weak and foolish.”

“You really don’t remember?” You look at the pear, squished into a pulp. “Can you do what Seokjin does, with the memories?”

“What makes you think I want to learn about your pathetic life?”

“No,” You idiot. You sigh. “But maybe you want to learn about your pathetic life?”

You scream, Jimin’s nails were digging into your skull, a handful of your hair in his fists. “Call me pathetic again,” he threatens lowly.

“Pathetic,” you say bearing your teeth. Jimin smiles, because in that moment you reminded him of someone. He’s going to enjoy breaking the bones of your body and watching your limbs reassemble again. He grabs your forearm, pulling your arm closer to your face. You wince as his grip tightens, struggling against his tight hold on your hair. “Call me pathetic again,” he sings, his eyes sparkling with delight.

You weigh your options in that moment.

“Seokjin!” you scream.

Jimin laughs, tightening his grip even more so you are sure to have bruises, “Do you think he really cares about what happens to you?”

“Jimin was a regular at your bar! Wasn’t he?!” You had seen the younger vampire, only briefly, you barely recognized him with dark hair, but you knew it was Jimin the way you felt your own heart soar when Seokjin glanced at him for the first time.

You screamed louder than you’ve ever heard yourself, making the vampire wince at your volume, because in that moment Jimin snapped the bone in your forearm. “Even if you don’t remember,” you cry, mumbling out the words through your pain, “you were human. Just. Like. Me.”

Jimin grabs your upper arm this time, and squirm in his hold. You start to cry harder despite trying to hold the tears in. The door to your room slams open. Seokjin looks furious when he steps towards the both of you.

“Jimin leave!"

“What?” The white haired vampire loosens his grip, but stands his ground. Seokjin doesn’t speak again, only gives him a look, and Jimin relents, breaking his stare with several blinks and releasing you. The younger vampire can’t hide his emotions as well as Seokjin and you see the hurt twist his beautiful features.

You sit on the ground grimacing in pain, holding your broken arm to your chest. Outside your room you hear the familiar crash of glass and scrape of wood and you suspect Jimin is not taking Seokjin’s orders well. Seokjin looks much more unhinged than you ever recall seeing him and then impassiveness washes over his face again, much to your disappointment.

“He is usually not like this. He can go months without drinking blood, it seems my ban has just made him all the more obsessed with you,” he sighs.

“Greeat,” you wince, “Lift the ban then, might as well.” If you were being honest with yourself, you were curious what would happen if Jimin bit you. Maybe then he wouldn’t despise you so much.

“The ban is not to protect you, naive little dove.” He sits down on the floor next to you. You find the sight comical, Seokjin in an expensive suit sitting on the dusty floor.

You roll your eyes. Of course. “You care a lot about him,” you whisper softly. He nods. You turn to him, “Do you remember why you started caring? Do you think who he is now still acts in the same way that made you care so much for him?”

“You think I’m a fool?” he laughs softly, “I know Jimin’s...lost his way...” You sit in silence as you struggle to take your mind off the pain in your arm. “For us, time, is infinite. This is only a small stretch of time compared to what I’ve been through. Jimin will come back around, I know it.”

“Well I think he’s a lost cause,” you mumble.

“He’s not, no one is...This is going to hurt a lot, if you don’t mind, I can make it quick.” His hand traces your jaw and turns your head to face him, eyes glancing towards your lips.

“Am I going to have to get used to this, you fixing the pain he causes-”

“Am I going to have to get used to you both provoking each other all the time?”

You bite your lip, he started it, it’s not your fault he freaks out over every little thing you say. You change the subject. “Are there really other prisoners here? Other humans like me?”

Seokjin tuts disapprovingly, “House guests, y/n! They can stop being in service to us whenever they want, we provide them all with a choice.”

“Oh, and what are the options, be your personal feeding supply or die?”

“Ahh see, you catch on quickly, and Jimin calls you stupid.”

Your eyes narrow on him, “Not much of a choice there.”

Seokjin leans into you, “it comforts them, when they think they have some control. You know, you would all be at the bottom of the ocean if it weren’t for us.”

You pull your legs closer to your body, it’s hard to look at him, much less listen to the disturbing things he says, “Why are you telling me this? Am I supposed to be grateful?” You shuffle your body, trying to get comfortable despite the throbbing pain of your broken arm.

“Perhaps,” he scrutinizes your body, “At least don’t provoke Jimin. Ready?”

You hum, “Yeah, I’m ready for my medicine, Doctor.”

He looks down, nodding. “No anesthesia for this surgery I’m afraid.”

He motions you closer, bites into his wrist and fills his mouth with his own blood. You’re careful not to jostle your arm too much as you move in front of him. His long fingers hold your head still as he presses his mouth onto yours, feeding you his blood. Even when you scream in pain he holds you to him as your bone readjusts itself and heals back together, your body in excruciating agony. He holds you tightly, his mouth swallowing your screams until the process is complete, until you pass out in his arms.

---

You wake up to clanging silver. The light feels warm on your face, and then you feel nothing as the curtains are drawn. You open your eyes, ready to protest.

“Oh my god!”

The woman before you jumps at your words. “Your breakfast,” she motions to the tray.

“You're real, oh my god, it’s true! Help me! Please, we can escape together!” The woman stumbles away from you as you desperately try to hold on to her.

“What?” Why is she looking at you like that? Why is she acting like that?! She pushes you away as she opens the door. You’re too stunned, too hurt by this stranger who you thought could help you to question her when she says, “There is no escape.” She closes the door, locking you inside. What just happened?!

Now that you’re alone again you search the room from top to bottom, desperate now that you’ve realized you’re up against so much more. All the drawers are empty, not even a pen and paper in the desk. The window opens but that doesn’t help you because you’re several floors up. The bathroom has running water and the prettiest bathtub you’ve ever seen, so you give up and spend the day soaking yourself, in your clothes. The dress floating and surrounding you reminded you of a certain man, well, merman. No one visits you that night.

The day repeats itself six times. You try different approaches to try and convince the older woman to help you and every time she refuses or ignores you completely.

You don’t get it, you don’t understand, and her behavior disturbs you. You had asked her, “Don’t you want to see your friends and family again?! Do you have children? Or a spouse?” Her answer was, “I don’t think so.”

‘I don’t think so.’ She couldn’t tell you how long she’d been here either. The implication scared you.

You sit at the door, your ear to the wood all day. Sometimes you’ll hear footsteps, you know it’s not Jimin or Seokjin, because they don’t make any noise when they walk. Sometimes you yell and bang on the door waiting for a response that never comes.

One day you yanked down the drapery, opened the window completely letting all the sunshine in, and soaked it in like a cat. Before you woke up the next morning everything had been set back the way it was. It was maddening.

So one day you flooded the bathroom, just to see if anyone would come to stop you. They didn’t and the next morning the tub was gone. You cried all night.

For six nights you’re alone. The fifth night you dig into your dress pockets to find the tiny shell Yoongi gifted you. You tap it three times and wait, holding it to your ear.

“Y/n?” His groggy voice fills the sea noise. You can’t bring yourself to speak, or you would really break down. Hearing his voice was enough.

---

Before the sun sets on the seventh night there is a knock on your door. You’re already so close to the entrance you can hear the soft click as it unlocks and you swing the door open to see Jimin.

He smiled down at you, a picture of sin. The young vampire wore casual loose-fitting clothes, shirt hanging over his shoulders. He dresses so relaxed, so opposite to Seokjin, who wore his shirts buttoned up to the collar. All you wanted to do all day was talk to someone, be heard, but with Jimin here you feel like an animal cornered in a trap, and you want to hide.

He gives you a cocky smile and drapes his arm over your shoulders, dragging you back into the room. “Look at you! Perfectly fine, Seokjin always overreacts,” he whines, “I’m tired of waiting. I can trust you not to tell on me, right pet?”

The vampire presses himself against your back and wraps his arms around your waist, locking you to him, chin digging into your shoulder. You stand frozen against him, Jimin is excellent at making sure you feel like you’re trapped and powerless when you’re around him.

His nuzzles your neck, lovingly like a lover would, inhaling your scent. You craved human contact, but this man isn’t exactly human now, is he? Your stomach turns as the familiar feeling of fear bubbles inside you.

“And if I don’t?” you whisper, and his grip tightens around you.

“You tell me, what do you think will happen, if you don’t?” he mumbles against your neck, teeth grazing your skin and he moans softly. He wrapped himself around your body, caressing your curves, it confused you at how affectionate he was being, or was he just a snake constricting his prey?

Your stomach tightens, you were stronger than this, right? A week in time out didn’t work on you, right? You couldn’t stop the sounds escaping your lips every time Jimin shifted against you. You blame Seokjin’s fondness for him that must have rubbed off on you. You try to step away but Jimin pulls you in closer.

“I thought I was a disgusting human, are you the one who missed me, Jimin?” You ask him softly.

“There are things about you that are only barely revolting, I guess.” He can feel the shift in your mood as annoyance bristles through your body, it makes him smile. You are so defiant for being so scared, it makes him want to break you even more.

You’re scared, but deep down there was a part of you too curious for your own good, that just wanted Jimin to bite you, just to see why and what Seokjin was protecting him from. It would only be to your advantage, if that was the case, right? You stretch your neck to the side slightly to see what Jimin’s reaction would be. His fingers dig into your hips. “What’s this?” Oh no.

Jimin pulls the shell hidden inside your pocket. You grab at his hands, but he’s too fast, dancing around you as he pushes you away, pushing you to the ground.

Somehow you always end up here on the floor, at Jimin’s feet, probably exactly where the vampire thinks you should be. You’ve never seen him more excited, it twists your insides.

Jimin’s cold fingers inspect the tiny shell, tutting. He mouths the words, ‘bad girl’ silently. Tapping the tiny shell, he brings the shell to his lips.

“Yoongi, I know you’re there. Do you want to hear y/n?” He crouches next to you, lifts your chin so your eyes meet his, smiling as if you were playing along on an inside joke. “Do you want to hear her cries? Do you want to hear her moans?” his sinful voice sings tauntingly.

The younger vampire promised Jin he wouldn’t touch you, but Seokjin has so many rules, and this just proved you couldn’t be trusted, that you needed to be taught a lesson. Seokjin will forgive him, Jimin thinks, he always does.

“C’mon, Yoongi wants to hear you, y/n! I bet he misses you. Let him hear your pretty voice.” You just glare at him, staying silent. Jimin didn’t seem angered by your defiance, in fact, he seemed happy.

He pulls your hair, moving your face closer to the shell, his nails dig into your scalp, and you feel them pierce your skin. The pain causes you to let out a strangled cry. “That’s it!” You hold back tears as you glare at him, Seokjin is wrong, Jimin can’t be saved.

“I’m not afraid of you anymore,” you grit out, scratching at his hand.

“Oh, no?” He releases your hair. You jump up but Jimin pulls you down to the ground again. Even as you kick and hit him, it’s obvious it’s not hurting the vampire. He easily pins you down, caging you in with his thighs, his knees pinning your arms to your sides. His fingers wrap around your neck, holding you tight as you grunt against him. You’ve become a mouse, trapped by a snake.

“Afraid yet?” You know he won’t kill you, it seems like torturing you is just too much fun for him. Jimin may be stronger than you, faster than you, but he’s as caged as you are, stuck on this island, leashed by Seokjin’s rules, acting out like a child.

“No.” He lets go and you heave in air, coughing. “Seokjin will find out, even if I don’t say anything. He said-”

“Jin,” he bares his fangs, “says a lot of things.” He brings the shell to his mouth again, “What bone should I break first?”

Jimin laughs, and you wonder what the merman said to him.

Jimin grabs your jaw, tilting your head to the side, reveling in your struggle. He places the tiny shell next to your ear. You try to silence your heavy breathing. “Yoong-g-gi?” You hear the ocean, the rumbling of the sea, and you hear-

“Y/n!” Yoongi’s voice rumbles through the tiny shell, he calls out to you, words rushed and worried, full of concern that has your heart dropping, “Jimin has a weakness, It’s T-” Jimin crushes the tiny shell between his fingers.

Jimin pouts, “I thought he would have used the opportunity to confess, now he’ll never get the chance.”

He moves away from you, “Well, aren’t you going to make a run for it? I didn’t lock the door.” He lifts his eyebrows up, nodding towards the door.

You lie on the cold hard ground stunned. Yoongi's gone. You think of a scenario where you rush towards the door, only to be stopped by Jimin as he tackles you again. No, you won’t do that. Jimin takes and takes, you're going to make it your mission to take from him. You stand up on shaky legs and walk towards Jimin.

“Actually, I rather you just bite me instead.” You’re not confident that he’d really go against Seokjin, so might as well egg him on. “Unless you’re scared of Seokjin?”

Jimin scoffs, jaw clenching in annoyance and eyes narrowing. “Any other cute little means of communication you tried to sneak in here, hmm?” He yanks you close to him again, his hands pull at your dress, wandering over your thighs, skirting dangerously close to your center. He smirks down at you as you pretend to act unaffected by the way his hands glide over your ass, kneading the flesh. His hands run up your corset, getting closer and closer to your dagger.

You run your hand over the front of his pants. It was the only thing you could think to do to distract the vampire before he found your dagger and really killed you. It worked. Jimin stops you, digs his nails into your wrist, but he doesn’t pull your hand away.

So without many other options, you send your quarrel with the vampire off into a whole other direction as you grab for the bulge in his pants. You feel the weight of him in your palm, your mouth drops a little at his size. Jimin’s jaw tightens as you rub up and down his bulge.

You’re stuck in a staring match with the vampire. Two stubborn beings, challenging each other to see who breaks first.

Surprising you, he spins you around and starts undoing the straps of your corset.

No, no, that’s the opposite of what you wanted! “What are you doing?” You try to wiggle your body to face him again, “Just fuck me already!”

Jimin cages you against his lean frame, crushing your body to the closest wall with his own. He inhales into your neck. He can sense the torrent of your spiraling emotions, he feels your hatred for him radiating off your body stronger than ever as he slows his advances down.

“You are acting more stupid than usual, pet.”

“You wanted to play,” you say, “Well, let’s play then.”

He’s never played this kind of game before, and you’ve enticed him, he has no problem calling your bluff. His hand runs along your cleavage, kneading the flesh.

Jimin pulls your dress up slowly, his cold hand running up your leg. You rest your forehead on the wall, shuddering when he drags his fingers across your center. “Your hands are cold.”

He pushes two fingers inside you, deep, you were barely ready for the stretch, crying out from the sudden intrusion and cold sensation. Jimin groans as you whimper against him, “Forget what I am already?” He licks your neck, fingers pumping in and out at a dizzying pace.

“How could I ever forget?” you whisper.

“I regret destroying that shell, I would have liked to let Yoongi listen to what a whore you are.”

Your body tenses and Jimin leans his body harder into yours, pressing another finger inside. “What would the dogs think, knowing their bitch is so wet for their enemy, hmm?” Making you angry is too easy, he thinks, and makes you smell so much better, sexier. Jimin is used to fear, he’s grown accustomed to desire, but your rage makes him ravenous. If Jimin wasn’t so consumed by his carnal desires, he might question himself as to why he wants someone to hate him so much, but all he can think about is how he’s going to drive you to madness with just his fingers. He resists the urge to bite you by sucking harshly on your neck, pulling the blood closer to your skin and leaving dark marks behind.

Before you have a chance at release he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and holding up the evidence of your arousal, the clear substance clinging to his fingers as he licks them clean, moaning in your face. The sight is depraved, and you can’t look away. He smiles smugly at you as he smells your lust surround him.

“I knew you wouldn’t bite me.”

“We will get to that, we’re playing a game remember? Or do you want to stop now?”

“All this talk and I still haven’t been bitten or fucked, are vampires impotent or something or is it just you?”

Jimin laughs, yanking your body to face the wall again and pinning you to him. “I’ll make you forget everything but my dick while I’m fucking you, you won’t have a single other thought in that pretty little head of yours other than giving me all your pleasure.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m waiting.”

Jimin laughs again, pressing three thick fingers deep inside you again, you legs go weak as he holds you up with the force of his body against yours. He drags his fingers out and higher until he’s circling your other opening. His digits press into both of your holes, filling you up completely as you cry out. You haven’t had someone give attention to that part of you in so long, you tense at the unexpected stretch. His thumb works against your clit expertly as he rocks his hand against yours. You feel so full and overwhelmed by Jimin. “So close already? Beg me to make you come, pet.”

“I’m not your pet.”

You take his torture silently, hold in your moans as he brings you to the brink of release and stops short of satisfaction over and over again. He thrusts his fingers in and out of your holes, until the tight stretch goes away, his fingers easily gliding in and out of your wetness, until the ache is replaced with a need for more. Your entire core pulsates as he slowly and torturously circles your swollen bud, changing the pressure just enough to drive you crazy by ghosting over your clit when you needed more and rubbing even harsher circles when it all becomes too much, his touch making you feverish and sick with desire. When you clench around his fingers, closer than you’ve gotten to release since he started this torture, he pulls out of you completely, pressing his hard cock, straining against the cloth of his pants, into your sore center.

“You smell so good,” he moans. You don’t want to think about Jungkook, you don’t want to taint his memory, but Jimin’s words are so similar. Jungkook is nothing like Jimin, but they are more similar to each other than to a human like you. Perhaps you are just as weak and pathetic as Jimin says, a human can be no match for a vampire, and you’ll never be able to win against him.

“Please Jimin...just let me cum...”

“Beg me.” His usual airy voice drips with arousal, and he presses his bulge harder into your wetness.

You don’t do as he says, you can’t, so he continues his torturous little game, until you’re moaning loudly, head thrown back against his shoulder, whimpering every time he stills. He pulls his fingers out of your dripping core, focusing his attention on your ass, thumb rubbing harsh circles into your throbbing clit, you feel so empty and painfully full as your sensitive walls clench around nothing and his fingers stretch your rim open for him. Your entire body vibrates, but you’d rather stay unsatisfied than say please to Jimin ever again.

Finally, as the sun sets and the last bit of light around the curtains disappears, Jimin realizes he can play his game no longer and pulls away from you completely. Your legs give out as you slide down the wall, mind finally free from the haze of lust Jimin kept you in.

“So weak,” Jimin tuts.

“...impotent...dick...”

“Pathetic slut.”

“I thought about Seokjin the entire time,” you whisper.

“...liar.”

---

You must have fallen asleep, you feel a hand cupping your cheek, and you open your eyes to Seokjin, blonde hair, red eyes, suit buttoned to the collar. You let out a small laugh, and then groan once the pain in your joints wakes you fully.

Jin carries you back to your bed. You tug on his sleeve.

“Please take the pain away,” you ask softly.

Seokin’s eyes search the expanse of your skin, “There are no cuts on your body.”

Groaning, you sit up and kiss the vampire who freezes against you. So you take the opportunity to straddle Seokjin’s lap, and start unbuttoning his shirt, kissing, licking, biting his smooth skin. Jimin’s harsh words replay in your mind and sting you. Screw him, let him think whatever he wants, let him hear you. This had been a part of your plan anyways, first Seokjin, and then you’ll worry about him, might as well have some relief too.

“What happened?” Seokjin asks as you rut into his body, tearing his shirt open. He doesn’t look upset that you popped the buttons, does he ever get upset anymore? You hastily unbuckle his belt. His hands cover yours, repeating his question, “What happened, y/n?”

You grab his hand and move it under your dress. Seokjin stills as his fingers come into contact with your thigh, slick with your wetness from hours of Jimin's teasing. His hands travel up your shaking leg.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, “...Did Ji-”

You silence him with a kiss. “Fuck me, I feel like I’m dying.”

Seokjin laughs against your lips, “Humans are so dramatic,” but he’s already pulling you closer, turning you around to lie on the bed. He bends down to your core, pushing your dress over your waist, you spread your legs wide open for him.

He licks your arousal from your inner thigh, fingers massaging your aching center.

“Ugh fuck, stop teasing me,” you whine. Seokjin fills you with two long fingers, pushing inside you to the knuckle. His teeth bite down on your inner thigh, it stings but your lust somehow lessens the pain. Your body tenses, you clench around his fingers and he speeds up, pulling more blood from your veins.

You flinch when you see Jimin again, reliving the memory from Seokjin’s mind. He’s half naked, kissing a beautiful woman who is fully naked, right in front of Seokjin.

Jimin looks so different, dark hair, flushed skin, tenderness in his eyes.

The girl lowers her body between the men, and fills her mouth with Seokjin’s hardening length. You feel yourself become wetter. Seokjin moans against your feverish skin, biting you for a second time, higher up your leg. It stings again, but you’re too busy trying to get off on his fingers to care about anything but release. Seokjin bites the mound of flesh close to your center, his tongue pressing against your hood, your vision goes white and then-

You see Yoongi’s sharp eyes above you, his naked body on top of yours, cold and wet, hard cave rocks against your bare back. You see Namjoon, a younger version of him, long hair pulled back into a low bun, across the room in bed with another woman. The room is small and empty. Two beds, two couples, Seokjin watching his friend fuck the random girl senseless.

You feel jealousy, watching Namjoon through Seokjin’s eyes. He looks so different, so feral and savage. The bed creaks loudly underneath him as he grips the headboard, and thrusts into her wildly. Jin pumps his fingers inside you in time with Namjoon's thrusts, it makes you feel like you’re going to burst into a thousand pieces. Namjoon’s eyes glow yellow as he gives Seokjin a wicked grin and you’re scared for the first time of Namjoon as he growls, releasing into the woman.

“Don’t make a mess,” he drops the spent girl on Seokjin’s lap, who caresses her face. She’s breathtaking, you feel inadequacy course through you, you feel jealousy, you feel turned on when her full lips envelop Seokjin's thumb. Namjoon pulls the sleeping naked girl from Seokjin’s bed, tapping her check to rouse her awake.

Seokjin’s arousal is overwhelming you. He slams into the woman’s body from behind, chasing his high while holding her face down into the bed, and then his fangs pierce her back as her screams are muffled. You don’t want to come to this, to the feeling of her blood filling his mouth, arousing him and arousing you. Namjoon’s grunts and sounds of sex fills your mind again and you come undone in a silent scream around Seokjin’s fingers.

---

Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit.

You run around the room, darting around Seokjin who watches you rather calmly for the unfolding situation. The rest of his body frozen, the blessed dagger lodged in between his vertebrae, stopping his regeneration.

Once you came, thighs snug around his head, you pulled the dagger from your corset and stabbed him in the back. You kicked him away from you before he could attack and he fell backward, the dagger piercing deep into his back, and that’s where he was currently, frozen on the floor, watching you as you run around the room in disbelief that you actually managed to stab a vampire.

You trip over him by accident and he lets out a soft grunt. “Fuck! Are you okay?” you sit next to his frozen body, “Like, relative to being stabbed, I mean? Don’t answer that...because you can’t. Oh fuck.” You put your head down, resting it on his chest, you don’t hear anything but your laboured breathing. ‘Believe in yourself, y/n! Yoongi believed in you…’

You gather yourself up once again and you move to the window, jiggling the handle. It’s still unlocked! You’re too high up to escape but...

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I really am sorry,” you grunt as you heave the immobilized vampire to the window, inch by inch, Seokjin’s body like a sack of bricks. You place him against the wall and crouch down so you can look him in the eyes, patting down his messy hair, tousled in your struggle to move him, “I’m sorry,” you repeat again, “but you’re a vampire right?” You say encouragingly, and you give him a couple of pats on the cheek, his eyes dart down to watch the action, “Technically, you can’t die.”

With every ounce of strength you have left inside you, you shove Seokjin out the window.

---

You quietly lock the door to what had been your room and prison cell behind you, quickly walking through the halls. You’re not sure what you expected, maybe a gothic interior fit for Dracula, burning candlesticks and red velvet drapes, but you got electricity and mid century modern eclectic, the walls were colorful with art pieces, deep emeralds and golds and blood red. You open the first door you come across.

A young woman sits on a large bed reading a book, looking up at you. Is that how you looked to them? A more disheveled and unpleasant version of her? She looked happy, until she noticed you, and then her smile fell, disappointed you weren’t Jimin or Jin. You slam the door shut and lock it again.

You race as quietly as you can through the halls, you have no idea what you’re looking for, quickly peeking into each room you come across. Strangers, stop what they are doing to look at you, waiting like obedient lap dogs. You have yet to find an empty room. Four doors you’ve opened on this floor, no empty rooms, and you begin to feel hopeless.

You open the fifth and final door and you’re assaulted with the loud sound of moaning. The moaning comes from a woman specifically, her cries almost as loud as the slapping of her skin against Jimin’s naked body. Jimin had needed an outlet after his time with you, specifically, someone to use and bite that wasn't 'off limits.'

You stand frozen in shock, it feels like all the air has escaped the room, filling the woman’s lungs instead as she screams in ecstasy. He is standing next to the bed, fucking into her at an inhuman speed, holding her hips in the air as she struggles to hold the rest of her torso horizontal. You can’t look away, because her body, her stomach, her large bouncing tits, it’s all covered in blood. You almost scream, almost, but the small huff of air you let out instead is enough. The bed stops creaking as Jimin’s movement stops and you meet his surprised eyes.

You shut the door, lock it and run.

You run down the stairs, you see the entrance and you almost run out the door, but you instead run down the hall, flinging every door you see, praying you find something. There's a kitchen, a dining room with the longest table you’ve ever seen, and an empty room! It looks like an office! You run inside. You run to the desk, looking over the papers. Weird markings litter the pages, it reminds you of the markings on Yoongi’s bag. You have to be getting closer to your objective, you have to be! You scatter the papers around, yank open the drawers, hoping to find something useful. There’s a bookcase behind the desk, and you start pulling down books, nothing is catching your eye. You pull on the bookcase, you run your hand across the wood frantically, searching for perhaps a trap door-

“What are you looking for? I can try to help.”

You jump, almost screaming. You hold your heart, it hadn’t stopped, to your surprise. You had no idea someone else was in the room with you. You stare back at a calm man with messy brown hair, he looks at you timidly. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you. I just wanted to help, and it took me a while to organize those books,” he laughs softly. The man shuffles back to the wall, you hear metal clanging and look at his feet, they have chains around them, his hands too.

You look down at your feet, papers and books are all around you “I-I’m sorry. I was just-I didn’t know-” You had no idea how much more time you had to spare so you cut to the chase. “Is there a portal here?!”

The man’s eyes go wide, “Not here,” he speaks softly, “One level lower.” He gave you the answer you were looking for without any hesitation, was this a trick? You look at him more closely, his clothes are loose, like pajamas, and he’s barefoot, he looks at you happily, like you didn’t just storm into his room and destroy his things. The innocent expression on his face reminds you of Jungkook.

You remember why he looks so familiar, “You were sitting next to Yoongi!”

The man tilts his head confused, and then he stares at the door, “you need to leave now,” he rushes towards you, “Go down the stairs to the right.” He finds a pen on his desk. “The portal is in the basement, in Seokjin’s office. You’ll need this to open the door, it will only work once.” He grabs your hand and writes a long looping character on your palm, it burns gold and then disappears, while you stand still in shock.

Before you can question him the door bursts open. Jimin stands in the doorway, looking at you and the other man. His anger is replaced by an expression you don’t quite understand. Heavy silence envelops the room. The awkward tension is cut when Jimin speaks to you calmly saying, “Come here. Now.”

The man steps between you and Jimin. “Stay here, he can’t come inside, just like I can’t leave.” The man leans against the desk, his long legs blocking you from leaving, his chains clanging again.

“Y/n, come here now.” That was the first time Jimin said your name. You look between the men.

“Why would I go to you? You’re going to kill me!”

Jimin runs a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes to the side, “I promise you I won’t kill you if you come here right now.” He says the words as sweetly as he can in his growing irritation, trying to coax you to him, but to you he sounds patronizing and angry.

“Jimin’s lying,” the man next to you whispers, confirming your suspicions.

“Tae, just bring her to me!” the vampire screams.

“No, I don’t want to, you’re going to hurt her.”

‘Tae, he said. Is this Taehyung?’ The same man you saw next to Yoongi, the same man Namjoon warned you about, the man who is protecting you and gave you a way out of this hell of a place?

“Can’t you just do the right thing for once?!”

“You haven’t come to visit me in how long, Jimin?”

They yell at each other like an old married couple. You stare down at your hand, it looks perfectly ordinary, you think you might have just imagined it all, what Taehyung did, but you realized on this island nothing was impossible.

“A-are you a wizard?” you interrupt the men’s arguing.

Taehyung turns back to you surprised and gives you a bright smile, “No, I just learned from one. He didn't call himself a wizard, though” he laughs, “I think the correct term is warlock?”

“Oh, okay, good to know,” you mumble. Jimin quietly seethes at the doorway.

“Why do you have chains on if you can’t leave this room?”

“Yeah, why do I have chains on, Jimin?” He turns to the vampire accusingly.

“Just wait until Seokjin comes,” Jimin mutters, and he pulls the dagger you used on Seokjin out of his back pocket, holding the handle with a handkerchief. “Nice trick, by the way, y/n. Seokjin is still healing himself from the fall. You’re going to regret not coming to me when I asked.” He glares at you.

“So that’s what fell!” Taehyung roars with laughter.

“I said I was sorry,” you mutter, biting your lip. How the hell are you going to get out of this situation now? As if you summoned the Devil himself, Seokjin appears next to Jimin.

You hide behind Tahyung out of instinct, grabbing onto his chained arm. Taehyung holds in his joy while the two vampires' expressions darken.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” Jimin seethes.

You let anger get the best of you and wrap your arms around Taehyung’s waist instead, glaring from behind his shoulder.

“Y/n-” “Don’t,” Taehyung interjects. “-get away from him,” Seokjin warns.

“Why?! How do I know you both aren’t going to murder me as soon as I leave this room?”

“Is there not a spell we can use to get her out?!” Jimin turns to Seokjin ignoring you. You grind your teeth. Two can play that game.

“Why are you locked in here? How do you know Yoongi and Namjoon?”

“Yoongi? We all met him when we came to the island.” Jimin screams Taehyung’s name to silence him, but he ignores him easily. “You should have seen Seokjin and Jimin, he got them all wet and they vowed to make sushi out of him!” he laughs, turning his body around in your arms to face you instead of the pair.

You look over to the two vampires who have gone quiet. “And Namjoon?”

“Taehyung..” Seokjin warns.

“What? I’m not even allowed to talk about it now?” Taehyung whines.

“Enough! Y/n come here...please.” You hadn’t expected a request from Seokjin. “I swear, I won’t punish you for what you’ve done, just come here.” he holds out his hand for you, you can see the magic swirl around his fingers, burning his skin. He winces, but doesn’t move his hand away, even when his tips begin to turn black with char.

“What about Jimin?”

“Yes, fine, I won’t punish you, just hurry the fuck up,” the younger vampire looks anxiously at Seokjin’s hand.

“Y/n, please no! I’ve been here by myself for so long, I can’t stand it! You’re the first person who’s visited me. I don’t want to be alone,” Taehyung whimpers, a high pitched whine as you hesitantly make your way to Seokjin. He reminds you so much of Jungkook. He paces around you, begging you to stay.

“I-I don’t want to be locked in that room anymore.”

“Okay! Just come here!” Jimin yells.

“How can I trust you? How do I know you won’t go back on your word?!”

“They will, y/n, please! Look, Jimin promised he would visit me, he lied!”

Seokjin pulls his hand away, completely burned black and puts out his other arm instead. “You’re just going to have to trust us, like we will have to trust you not to pull any more stunts. We’ll trust each other, okay?” Seokjin pleads with you.

“I-I’ll come back to visit you,” you say to Taehyung. “Right?” You turn to Seokjin who relents and gives you a hasty nod.

“No!” Taehyung whimpers, “They are going to lock you away! Please believe me! You’ll never be able to escape.”

You reach for Seokjin’s hand, but Taehyung jumps in between you, holding out his chained hands. “Look at them! Look closely, what are these made out of, y/n? LOOK!” You study the metal, it looks shiny and silver. It’s silver.

Seokjin lurches forward quickly, his suit catches fire, his warm hand grasps onto yours and pulls you out of the room and away from Taehyung and everything goes black.

---

You wake up in a different room. You’re not alone. Another woman sits on the bed next to you, she jumps when you wake up. It makes you jump, ‘fuck why is everyone so jumpy here?’ you think holding your head in your hands to calm your nerves.

You try to scoot away, and you feel a tug on your ankle, so you pull the covers off of you. You’re in a new dress, all white, like the sheets, like the woman’s dress next to you. You see a chain connected to your foot that reminds you of Taehyung’s shackles but darker metal. No. “My clothes!”

“They made me, I-I’m sorry, I had to give them your clothes. The necklace wouldn’t come off, I-I didn’t tell them,” the woman pulls at her sleeve. “I kept your secret, but I can’t promise you they won’t find out, Master might look into my memories.” Your hand traces the gold watch chain around your neck, calming down.

“Okay...thank you.” You whisper uneasily. “H-How long have you been here?”

The woman thinks, humming to herself. “I lost count, Master did give me this on our Fifth Year Anniversary!” She shows off the blood red jewelry dangling from her ears.

Ugh. “That’s nice,” you say and get out of bed. The dress is tight around you, covering your arms and flowing down to your ankles, the one place the fabric doesn’t touch is your neck, the hemline sits off your shoulders and plunges into a deep V. You scoot your way to the door until you can’t take it anymore and reach for the bottom of your dress, pulling the fabric until it tears.

You hear the woman let out a soft, “oh no.”

The chain stops you from reaching the door, even if you stretch out your legs you can’t grab the handle. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

You wheel your body back around, “Hey, what’s your name?”

The woman thinks, humming to herself. “I don’t remember.”

“Listen, I’m going to need you to-WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T REMEMBER?!”

The woman flinches from your volume. “Well Master calls me his little doll and I like that name a lot, and I just, well, forgot my other name.”

You take a deep breath as you try not to be sick. “Well Dolly, your MASTER IS A HUGE FUCKING ASSHOLE. YOU FUCKING LIARS!”

---

The group in the parlor turn their heads to the small voice echoing through the halls, Jimin winces, hearing your words clearly, moving one of the women off his lap. “She’s awake.”

“I’ll go-”

“It seems you failed at controlling her, brother. Why can’t I just try?”

Seokjin scoffs, “You can barely control yourself.”

Jimin’s jaw clenches. “I’ll-” he coughs, “-use restraint. I won’t hurt her.”

---

“Monsters!”

“Oh no, they’re going to be so mad.”

“Taehyung was right! I swear to God-”

“So so mad, oh no, oh no no no.”

“I won’t let you get away with this! Liars! Bastards!”

“Master!”

The door opens and Jimin stands against the door frame, ignoring your irateness and addressing your new roommate with a smile, “Hey Doll.”

Jimin standing in front of you had extinguished some of your rage and replaced it with apprehension, halting your tirade for now. “You fucking lied,” you glare at him.

“It’s not locked, I’m not forcing you to be here,” He looks over your shoulder, “Right Baby Doll?” The woman nods enthusiastically back. “The chain was a precaution, I’ll remove it, I promise. We just need to set some ground rules, okay pet?”

“I am not your fucking pet!”

He moves around you, like a buzzard circling it’s next meal, “You look so much better in this instead of that ugly sea dress.”

“Don’t I look pretty?” you hear the woman’s tiny voice ask Jimin.

“Of course!”

You rub your temples, “Jimin, just take this chain off me.”

“After everything you’ve done, and you’re still trying to make demands? Do you know how incredibly lucky you are? Can’t you just show a bit more gratitude like her?”

Jimin kisses the woman and she moans against him, deepening the kiss. You rub harder at your temples. You're chained, a captive audience to what ever the hell display is happening in front of you, becoming more uncomfortable and annoyed with each passing minute.

“Seriously?”

He drapes his arms around the woman’s shoulders and stares at you, “Jealous?”

You scoff. You think back to the version of him in Seokjin’s memories, with the other woman. You remember the tenderness in his eyes as he watched her and you swallow down the lump forming in your throat. You are not jealous! And anyways, Jimin’s tenderness is all gone now.

“She doesn’t even remember her name anymore.”

“She doesn’t seem to mind,” he winks at her, and the woman giggles at your exchange.

“Her entire life has been taken away! What happened, it’s worse than death.” You hug your arms close to your body. Was that going to become you if you stayed here?

“Worse than death?” Jimin echoes your words and you notice him stare at his reflection in the room’s mirror. You stand in silence, watching him as he runs a hand through his hair, pushing back the loose strands while the woman softly hums to herself a sweet melody. She doesn’t sense the looming danger all around you and it makes your chest tighten in anxiety.

“You’re right y/n. Come here.” He holds out his hand for her.

He pulls her into a kiss, she smiles against her lips. You awkwardly shift at the exchange. She seemed happy with Jimin, even if she couldn’t remember the person she was anymore. It makes you wonder if she had resisted in the beginning or had always been this irritatingly agreeable...or maybe she even loved him, maybe her love was the only thing left in her.

Jimin holds her face in his hands, dragging his lips across hers, a spectacle of two lovers. She’s beautiful like Jimin, they fit perfectly together, a rose and a thorn.

It happens so quickly you stand stunned, you don’t have time to scream or stop him. She’s on the ground, neck twisted, dead.

You’re so stunned you can’t even cry, you just shake, fallen to your knees, staring at her beautiful lifeless face. Her red earrings dangle from her ears catching the light.

“What have you done?” Your voice sounds tiny and high, like hers.

“I saved her from a fate worse than death, according to you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

You can’t speak. He moves closer, putting a hand on your cheek, the same way he had held the woman’s head a few seconds ago. His cold finger wipes away your tears. When did you start crying?

“We aren’t liars. I’ll unchain you. So, will you behave now?”

---

You walk the halls during the sunlight. You stop by Taehyung’s door knocking four times, opening the door an inch. “I found this in the kitchen!”

“I’m...allergic.”

“Allergic to chocolate?! I-I’m sorry,” you mutter, though it doesn’t stop you from enjoying the bar yourself.

You lean forward into Taehyung’s room, he puts his chained arms over your head, and gives you a hug. He reminds you of Jungkook so much, sweet and gentle. But he’s not warm like him, he’s still a stranger to you, always dodging your questions. Namjoon’s words constantly play in your mind not to trust Taehyung. Even though out of everyone here, you trust him the most, you like him the most. Being able to spend time with him, even if your conversations are shallow and lighthearted, is the best part of your day.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“Why haven’t you escaped?” He whispers.

You play with the hem of your dress as a distraction, “I don’t know.”

He always asks you the same question and you always give him the same answer, but today Taehyung persists. “They won’t catch you if you go now! Isn’t that the whole reason you let yourself get caught?” Even though you hardly know anything about Taehyung, he knows so much about you already.

“I’m...I’m scared.”

He pats your head, you shake his hand away, lightly shoving him back. “I’m not a dog!”

Taehyung laughs, “Yeah, you’re a scaredy cat.”

“How dare you!” you hit his leg as he giggles.

“I want to show you something! It will help you when you finally escape!”

You cover his mouth with your hands, shushing him. Looking around to see if there were any others lurking around you, but no one ever comes around Taehyung. “What is it?”

“Well, um, you’ll have to come all the way inside.”

“...I can’t.” You move away from him again and lean your head against the door frame.

Taehyung sighs. “I knew you’d say that!” he whines. “Do you do everything Jimin says now?”

You roll your eyes, “Not even close,” you mutter. “And it’s not just Jimin...”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been told not to trust you...and you haven’t been very open with me, have you?” you look down at your hands, intertwined with his, you trace the gold markings along his chained wrists.

“It’s complicated,” he whispers.

“I can’t see how it could get more complicated than being a werewolf trapped in a house full of vampires.”

“It’s much more complicated,” he pulls on your arm, staring at you with pleading eyes. “Leave a shoe outside and they won’t notice you’ve come inside, I promise!”

You hum, searching for a compromise. “How about this,” you scoot over the entrance, sitting closer to Taehyung while making sure to keep your legs outside. “Technically, I am inside and also outside.”

“But the magic won’t work unless your body is fully inside here,” Taehyung pouts. “The spell on the room will clash with mine and who knows what will happen then!”

“How do you know so much about magic?”

“I can’t say…” Taehyung whispers.

Your expression turns sour, ‘What can you say...’ you think. “Well can’t you just like, Houdini yourself out of here?”

Taehyung shakes his head regretfully. “No, if only it were that simple. And please don’t ask me to explain,” he teases. Taehyung scoots behind you and pulls your body onto his lap. “Let’s stay like this for a while.”

“Okay,” you hum.

“Let go of each other!” You wake up on the floor with Taehyung cuddled to your side, one lone foot of yours still remains outside the door. Jimin pulls on your foot before you can untangle yourself from Taehyung, dragging the rest of your body into the hallway. Taehyung grunts, waking up as you’re pulled from his embrace.

You blink away the sleep from your eyes, face-to-face with Jimin, his head hovering over yours, eyes bright red with anger.

“Leave her alone, Jimin!”

“I-I am allowed to talk to him,” your words come out small and high when you finally speak and you hate it, the way your fear strangles your voice.

“On one condition, just one.” Jimin hisses.

“W-well, t-technically-”

"You're being so unfair!" Taehyung yells. "Do you like her that much?"

“Tae, enough!” He slams the door in Taehyung’s pleading face.

There is a bang on the door, only once, so loud and strong it shakes the entire connecting wall, the picture frames wobble and dust falls from the ceiling, the sound so abrupt and booming it makes you, and even Jimin, flinch.

---

“Jimin told me you were in a...compromising position, with Tae today.” You and him watch the stars from your bedroom window, now locked.

Your stomach tightens. “Taehyung is lonely, maybe if Jimin spent time with him I wouldn’t have to,” you mutter.

“Do you care about Taehyung?” Jin’s eyes study your features, his sharp hearing picks up your heartbeat, waiting to hear any lies in your answers.

“No, I just-He’s the only normal person here.”

“Person? Normal?” Jin quietly laughs.

“A werewolf is a person too.”

“Ahhh, so you think Tae is a werewolf.”

“He is, isn’t he?” You spin around to look at Jin but his poker face is as strong as ever as he smiles down at you.

“Is a vampire a person too?”

You chew on your bottom lip, “I guess so,” you side eye the man next to you, “Deep down. Somewhere.”

Jin kisses your lips softly, carrying you back to your bed and placing you beneath him. You’ve managed to latch onto Jin since that night, a lesser of two evils. The vampire truly was a forgiving man, and even if parts of you were weakened by fear, your mind had impressively blocked Seokjin’s pull since that night as well, so he had deemed you his personal pet project, his puzzle to solve, keeping Jimin an arm’s length away from you.

Jin was nice, sometimes. And sometimes, you enjoyed his company too.

You play with his soft blond locks. You know the pain is coming eventually, so you do everything you can to distract yourself, admiring the vampire’s beautiful features before you. He pulls the deep neckline of your dress easily down your body, exposing your chest to his piercing eyes. His eyes stop on the gold piece nestled in your cleavage, like always, he ignores it. He knows what it is, what he doesn’t know is why Namjoon gave it to you.

The cold air and Seokjin’s cold fingers kneading your breasts sends you into a bout of shivers, when he drags his tongue across your skin you arch your back and push your chest closer to his soft lips. He’s so gentle with you now. Sometimes, you wish he was rougher, like the Seokjin you witnessed with Namjoon.

“Won’t you let me in again, Dove?” Namjoon’s watch falls into the dip in your clavicle, replaced by Jin's fangs as he bites the flesh of your breasts, his fingers pull at your nipples distracting you from the pain. He doesn’t drain you unconscious anymore, instead Seokjin likes to covers your skin in lovebites, taking all night with you.

“I-I can’t control it.”

“Let’s practice control,” Seokin smirks, lips stained red, and he moves his hands down your body.

He takes time stretching you full with his fingers, his lips never leaving your chest, steadily building up the pressure inside you with each quick stroke of his thumb against your core until you’re tightening around his digits. “Don’t cum.”

You tense around him, unable to successfully hold in your moans. “I can’t. I’m going to-”

“Just try, Dove.” You would hope he’d stop moving his fingers, at least slow down, but he’s steady and relentless, his digits pushing inside you in the most perfect mind-numbing pace. There’s no way you could stop your impending orgasm, but you try to hold it off, just two more three four five agonizing seconds longer. Seokjin sucks on the sensitive skin of your breast, mouth pulling as much of the mound as he can fit inside while you pulse around his digits. You feel his teeth sink deep into your flesh and his name escapes your lips in a strangled moan.

His usual dull eyes look up at you shinning with desire. “Let’s try again.”

---

“I brought biscuits.” You hold up the sweet cookies in front of Taehyung’s confused face.

“Thank you, y/n.” Taehyung gives you a bright smile and hugs you extra tight when you peek your head into his room.

“Ready to escape?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Taehyung pouts. “You’re-I'm-” Taehyung struggles to say the right words, “We’re running out of time, y/n.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just need a couple minutes with you, please. I have everything ready!” Taehyung runs to his desk, pulling together a stack of papers. “You want to see everyone again, don’t you? You friends and family?” he pleads.

Your family, you’re ashamed to admit you haven’t thought about them. It wasn’t even purposeful, your mind just had stopped wandering to thoughts of them.

Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about them anymore either, it hurt too much. The small traces of their personalities that Taehyung reminded you of had become sufficient enough as you tolerated living. “W-What do you mean we’re running out of time?”

“I think I have just enough magic to fill your necklace,” he whispers, “but if I remember correctly, that model only holds twelve weeks worth of time. How long have you been on this island, y/n?”

Your fingers clutch at Namjoon’s watch resting against your heart. Could you really rewind back time to when you never got on that damned boat! “I-I just need to take off a shoe?”

Taehyung’s face lights up. “Yeah, or something that has your scent that they can still sense, just in case”

“So the more I leave the less noticeable it would be?”

“Well, I guess so?”

You look around at the hallway, still empty like always, and pull off both shoes from your feet. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” You begin to shimmy out of your dress. Taehyung’s eyes go wide, and he wets his drying lips, then he springs into action, searching his closet for something to cover you. You pull his large sweater over your body and take a hesitant step inside.

Taehyung wraps you into his arms in a proper hug, holding you close. “I’m so happy you found me, y/n. I’m so happy.” He whispers.

He holds you tight to him, you're ashamed how affected you are by his kind gestures, you shouldn’t feel this way about someone who Namjoon told you to stay away from, it felt like a betrayal. “Don’t forget about me once you escape,” Taehyung whispers.

You melt into his embrace. “I won’t. Isn’t there a way to break the spell on the island? There just has to be! There has to be a way to save you and Yoongi and-”

“You like him,” Taehyung pouts.

“What? Who? Yoongi?!” Your face flushes hot.

“I don’t like sharing,” Taehyung mumbles into his sweater currently draped over your shoulders.

You swallow thickly. “Tae?”

He pulls away, holding you loosely, searching your eyes. During your interactions, you usually kept your attention around Taehyung, unable to focus too long on his intimidating aura and good looks, worried you'd start feeling too much for the mysterious man, worried you'd disappoint Namjoon. But now Taehyung is all around you, and his magnetism is too strong for you to resist. “Tae-”

His kiss is brief, however no less impactful, the way he pours his desires into you until your lost in a haze, following his lips as he pulls away, entranced by the small smile he shows you.

When he lifts his chained arms over your head, he pulls your necklace off as well. You were surprised how easily he removed it, when even Jimin couldn’t pull it off you (much to the vampire’s annoyance). You watched intently as Taehyung turns the watch's dial and whispers a spell in a language you can’t understand. “There, it worked, I set it to the full twelve weeks. you’ll know when to use it.” He places the watch around your neck again, his fingers cupping your cheeks and he rests his forehead against yours, content. Your face burns hot, Taehyung is so affectionate and sweet and treats you like glass.

This close, you can peer into his deep warm brown eyes, irises twinkling back at you so beautifully, it looks like gold swirls in them. “Just one more thing, and then the world is ours,” he says.

---

You sit up in your bed abruptly. Your fingers search for Namjoon’s watch as you try to steady your breathing. The hard gold feels comforting against the tips of your fingers as your eyes adjust to the darkness. You’re reminded of the night you first arrived. But gone is Yoongi’s colorful dress, the clinical white fabric of your new dress, sits tight around your body like a straight jacket and blends in with the white bed sheets.

Weren’t you just with Taehyung, what happened? You remember he told you you were running out of time. Then what happened?

You have to go find him!

You leave the bed and search out his room again. Jimin passes you in the halls, as quiet as a cat, startling you so much you almost fall if it weren't for his fast reflexes. “There you are, ugh I figured you’d be headed to Tae’s room,” Jimin frowns, “Let’s go.”

“Where are you taking me?” You fight against his grip as he pulls you in the opposite direction.

“I haven’t fed in weeks, and my favorite meal is gone because of you.”

You shut your eyes tight, trying to push away the images of the woman who haunts your dreams.

“So you’re taking her place.”

“What?!” You're doing what now? “J-Jin said-”

“Are you his parrot now? Well lucky for me, tonight Jin went to go speak with Yoongi,” he says smugly.

You step into Jimin’s room. The dresser was covered with random items that don’t seem personalized to the vampire’s taste at all. Unread books, countless jewelry pieces, and a plethora of knives.

“Don’t even think about it, pet.” Jimin warns as he sees your eyes stop on the sleek blades.

“I wasn’t,” you mutter. It was the truth.

There’s no window in his room, no mirrors, just wood furniture, covered in scratches and dents of aggression. The areas of his room, like his dresser, are littered with things, so many discarded things. The room is soulless, like Jimin, it feels like a lavish prison cell.

“So,” you don’t look at Jimin, instead you look at his things, trying to find some sense of his personality, “I guess you’re going to finally prove to me you aren’t impotent after all?” you mock. You know you shouldn't poke the beast, but Jimin is like an annoying itch you can't help but scratch.

Jimin scoffs, “Slut, can you go a night without getting fucked?”

“Can you?!”

Jimin smirks. “I'm almost going to miss that.”

You take a step away from him at his words. “What are you going to do?”

“Jin is too sentimental, he only skims the surface of his powers now. There is another aspect to a memory pull, it’s much more fun. Can you guess what that is, pet?”

You’ve been guessing and trying to make sense of everything since that night. “That woman's memories, you took them, right?”

Jimin claps his hands, slow and mocking at your right answer. “It’s not a simple task, but she was particularly compliant,” he bites his lip in memory. “She was much more willing to part with her past, her previous life wasn’t so great if you were wondering...some would see what I did as a blessing.”

The vampire stands in front of you cupping your cheek. “But I’m sure you...” his hand follows your jaw, “...will put up an impressive fight.”

You let out the breath you've been holding, if you can do what happened to Jin, maybe you can find something you can use against him. Maybe his torture won’t work on you...!

“You’re going to regret this,” you say, pulling your head away from his hand.

He laughs, “I regret not doing this sooner.” Jimin was tired of Jin's special treatment of you, all these new rules, all the things you've gotten away with when he wasn't even allowed to drink from you, follow his most basic of urges, it was annoying, you were annoying.

You feel exposed under his penetrating stare, you turn your head and hold your wrist out to Jimin, “Well? Go right ahead.” You think the inevitable has been dragged out long enough.

He looks at your wrist, lips rolling over his tongue as his fingers glide over the thin skin, and then he pulls you closer so you stumble into him, yelping. He looks up and down your body, his hair brushing against your forehead, the strands ticking you. You're supposed to hate each other, but the way he holds you and touches you, it’s too intimate, too rough and too soft for you to make sense of it.

“Do you have to ruin all the dresses we give you?” He noticed the slit you cut into your too long dress.

“Why are they so tight?” you say, watching his eyes as they roam over your exposed skin, feeling hot from his attention. You try to keep your thoughts calm, pure, so he doesn't notice what he's doing to you. “I can barely walk around.”

“Then maybe you should stay on your back,” his voice low and taunting. His free hand reaches for the torn fabric and as quick as a flash Jimin tears the slit higher up to your hip bone.

Your hands attempt to pull the slit closed in vain, and Jimin takes the opportunity to pull at the neckline of your dress, ripping the line even lower, exposing your cleavage to him. You slap him across the face, like you would have done any other man, but Jimin is not just a man, not anymore. He turns his face around and you see his fangs against his curled lip, he looks delighted, like you gave him just the reaction he wanted.

He grabs you around the waist and you feel vertigo as you're thrown across the room. You land on his bed, sinking into the mattress, and before you can scream Jimin is hovering over you.

“Your foreplay sucks.”

Jimin pulls your head back, laughing down at you.

"Get it?" you struggle to speak, “because you're a-”

You scream as Jimin finally bites the column of your neck, his body weight pressing down on you. Pain erupts and you can barely breath. His bite is somehow even more painful than Jin's, you hit his shoulders, pull at his shirt, trying to push him away to release you.

---

“What’s your name?” You can barely hear Seokjin’s voice over the trumpets of the band.

“Jimin.” He yells back.

“Military man,” the bartender nods to his uniform, “This one is on the house.”

“Thanks, um?”

“Seokjin.”

Jimin pulls his bottom lip in, studying the handsome stranger. “Thank you Seokjin.”

---

Jimin pulls away from your neck, breathing heavy. You laugh, and laugh, feeling exhilarated, eyes meeting the vampire while you laugh again. Did you just beat Jimin at his own game?

Your laughter stops when Jimin flips you on your stomach. His fingers dig into your hair, bending your back up to meet his chest. You grunt, jaw slack. “Still waiting to see what you've got, Jimin.”

You’re confusing. Jimin doesn’t even smell fear on you anymore, even when he tightens his grip. You must be feeling overwhelmed, like Jimin, who is trying to make sense of the long forgotten emotions coursing through him right now.

For the first time in a long time, Jimin feels uncomfortable, struggling to make sense of your taunts and why you aren’t submitting. Something unpleasant inside him stirs. He’ll make you regret acting like this, he’ll break you in half until you beg for mercy. He’ll do it. So why isn’t he doing it?

“Well?!”

“Fuck, you’re annoying,” he hisses into your ear.

“So I’ve been told, military man.”

Jimin knows you're goading him, yet still, blind rage courses through his veins, stinging his chest. He rips the back of your dress, tearing it down the center.

Was Jimin fulfilling a twisted fantasy you had ever since you saw Namjoon and Seokjin fuck that nameless woman senseless? Could you admit that to yourself as you feel your core become wetter as he presses his hand down onto your bare back.

You push up on your elbows, but Jimin uses his strength to push you back down, holding your head down. His sharp hearing can hear your muffled moan and the unpleasant feeling in the center of his body twists again.

"You like this?" He groans, affected by the smell of your lust. “Fuck, you act like such a desperate slut.” He palms his dick, needing a release. His moans fill your ears as his stokes himself to the state of your body.

You feel his spit hit your skin, his hard length running along your center, covering his member in your juices and his saliva. His tip teasing your entrance, you push back into him seeking more, and his hands hold you down, making you all the more feverish.

Your arousal hits the vampire’s senses in waves, affecting him more than usual as he tightens his grip to keep you still, focusing on the blood blotting your neck. His cock runs up your slit until he rests over your second hole. You look over your shoulder, prepared to taunt the vampire even more, but his dark expression, filled with carnal desire, slightly unraveled, entirely captivated by you, sends your thoughts into a tailspin.

Jimin pushes his thick length into you, stretching you over his cock, inch by inch until your whole body spasms.

Jimin stayed pressed up against you, a small kindness, his fingers circling your aching core. “Don’t-” you moan, and he stills against you, “d-don’t hold back.”

"I wasn't intending to."

And he doesn't. Your orgasm wracks through you, you feel so full and empty as your walls clench down on nothing while he pounds himself into you relentlessly. You start to shake in overstimulation. His thrusts are wild, your neck is there, you smell so delicious and he's so close to release.

When you come close again, at the peak of arousal, he bites down on your soft skin. You yell, clenching around him even tighter.

“This is your fault.”

You see Tae laugh, so unlike his usual sweet boisterous laugh, he chuckles deep, fighting against the chains around him, his wrist markings glowing gold, then deep orange like fire. “No, this is your fault. You were supposed to kill Jin, we could have had everything we ever wanted. How could you betray me like this?”

Jimin’s hands go lax around your waist, so you put yours over his, holding on as tight as you can.

You see Seokjin and Jimin under a street lamp, you and Jimin watch the way the flies dance around the bulb.

“You’re a vampire.”

Seokjin tenses, so Jimin continues, “I saw you with that girl, the regular with black hair.” His eyes scan the man beside him.

“And what are you going to do now?” Seokjin’s words come out low, almost menacing. Jimin laughs.

“Would you believe me if I said you’re not the strangest thing I’ve seen?” Breaking the awkward silence, Jimin brings an arm over Seokjin’s broad shoulders, pulling the man into a headlock. “I forgive you for always ditching me for lunch.” He teases.

Jimin releases his mouth from your neck.

You shift beneath him to look up at the vampire. Jimin’s bite wasn’t as meticulous as Seokjin’s who knew how to expertly pierce an artery, so you weren’t profusely bleeding, but the wounds still ached. Seokjin has the precision of a doctor, Jimin is messy, wild, his entire front is covered in blood. Jimin's eyes were unfocused, you could tell he was lost in thought.

“Jimin?”

“Enough,” his voice shakily commands you. “I’ll just take the part of you that keeps doing this.”

He pierces your exposed flesh once more concentrating harder.

---

Jimin is tiny. His head reaches the older woman’s knee as he hugs her leg. He points to the butterfly, wings fluttering back and forth slowly as it sits on a leaf Jimin found.

“I fixed it, see!”

“My beautiful son,” she kisses the top of his head, laughing at his cuteness. She looks weak and fragile, sunken eyes and skin pale.

“I’ll fix you too, I’ll learn!” He hugs her leg tighter. She soothes her little boy, knowing it’s already too late for her.

“Grow up to be a doctor, heal people.”

---

He pulls away from you. His eyes look wild, like an animal’s, caught. “Stop looking into my mind!” He screams.

“I can’t control it!” You’re just as stunned as Jimin, you never expected to see a version of himself so innocent.

Jimin holds you down by the neck, he doesn’t squeeze your neck enough to stop your breathing, even though he should, he thinks, he can’t do it, he can’t bring himself to tighten his grip.

“Do it again and I’ll fucking kill you,” he lies.

“I said I can’t control it, asshole!” you struggle against his hold, “Maybe if you weren’t so weak-minded-”

Jimin roars. Pressing his weight back on you, his fangs strike at the sensitive flesh between your collar bone. Your first kiss was so special to you, you could still remember it to this day. You were young, awkward and shy, he was your first crush, a cute boy, his features reminded you of one of your favorite idols at the time, who was-

What did he look like? What was his name? When did he kiss you again? It was after school, you think, you can’t remember. How did he kiss you? That’s right, it was an awkward kiss, because you and him were...friends? Weren’t you? You can’t remember, you can’t remember what had happened, it was so special to you and now it’s gone.

Jimin sucks harder onto your skin, pulling more blood out of you. He took it, your first kiss, you know he did. Jimin, if that sweet little boy could see himself now.

You start to cry. You cry for your stolen first kiss.

His teeth sink into your neck again, pulling more blood greedily, trying to silence the memories he found with the steady beating of your pulse instead. He drags his fangs across your skin, more blood releases, so much blood lost already that everything spins around you. “Jimin!”

He covers your mouth to stop your protests. Jimin seems determined to lose himself again, ravaging your body with more bites. So you close your eyes and your thoughts drift to the young boy.

“Good job!” the soft voice of his mothers fills both your minds. Jimin holds a syringe full of milk to a tiny kitten’s mouth. “You have to take care of her now, remember, treat her gently. There you go!”

“She’s so cute, momma, I love her.”

“You both have to watch out for each other when I’m not around, okay?”

You can hear Jimin whimper into your neck.

You feel sadness wash over you. He could have been a doctor, he could have been a healer. He is, in some twisted way, he been given the gift of healing, and yet he uses it to inflict pain. Even if he wanted to pretend he didn’t experience it, you felt the love that he held so dearly for his mother as a small child. You can hear his laughter, he had the same laugh as his mother.

‘Jimin, I’m going to save you too.’

---

You wake up healed, your head pounding. You look around, Jimin lies next to you, he’s out like a light. You both look like you’ve been in a massacre. Your clothes shredded and blood everywhere. You move away from him, his features look angelic, but his skin is covered in dried blood, like a killer. What the hell happened? You take a step and your legs buckle, you cry out when you knee hits the hard floor. The vampire next to you sways, moves across the bed until he falls completely out of it, groaning.

You crawl your body to the other side of the bed where he is still lying on the floor.

When you look at him again, meeting his eyes, you come to a realization. You know his secret.

“Oh Jimin...”

“Y/n...” his voice is shaky, he covers his face with his hands and his soft cries fill the room. You struggle to get up, everything feels tilted on an axis. You sway and hit furniture as you make your way to the door.

There’s a ringing in your head that won’t leave. You follow the halls down to Seokjin’s office, a place Jimin has been so many times before, retracing his footsteps from a memory of his.

Taehyung’s spell worked just as he said, opening the door to Seokjin’s office, the bright markings glowed and then burnt away from your skin, leaving a trace of ash. ‘Taehyung,’ you’ll have to deal with him later, you think. First you need to get away, as far from the island as you can and try to find Jimin’s family.

There’s a large door to the right of his desk, wood an alien shade of purple. The high pitched ringing in your ears makes the room sway again, but you’re able to grip the handle and fall through to the other side.

---

You sit on the floor of a tiny shop. There’s intricate gold pieces; statues, vases, piled high on countless of glass shelves, every inch of the shop is filled with items, it reminds you of someone but you can’t remember who. You can’t even remember how you got here. Where the hell are you? It feels dangerous, it feels wrong.

You move to a corner and hug your knees to your body. ‘Where am I? Wait, who am I?’ You try to remember anything, any memory from your childhood, from your adulthood. And the past five minutes replays in your mind instead. Gold jewelry in glass cases and the feeling that you shouldn't be here, and a deep voice in your head whispers, “y/n.”

Y/n, is that your name? Your hands skim over the fabric of your torn dress, looking for pockets, looking for anything that might explain something to you. You need to get out of here, you need to leave, but you don’t even know where you are.

You hear a ding, a bell alerting an opening door. You hear a man speak to another. You run out the door while the man behind you lets out a surprised yell to come back.

You run and you run, past buildings past people. You’re barefoot, your clothes hang off you. Eventually you stop. Eventually you decide to ask an old couple who looks unthreatening where you are while you unsuccessfully try not to burst into tears. The old woman holds your hands and strokes your arm to calm you while the husband calls the police.

At first they suspected you were a victim of abuse. They took you to a hospital. The doctors performed several tests on you, each one worse than the last. You had no old memories, and all your new ones were horrible. Clinical, painful, strangers prodding and poking your body. Your dreams were filled of palm trees and warm sunshine on your skin, a sparkling blue ocean, laughter, happiness. So you slept most of the day.

Then one day, detectives came with nurses and they told you who you were. That it took so long because you had been pronounced dead over a month ago. Your parents were on a flight to come get you. You listened to them explain the events hoping to have a jog of memory but nothing comes. They talk about the boat, the crash, no survivors. Always another horrible new piece of information. When will it end?

When your parents picked you up, a lovely man and woman who you tried desperately to remember, the hospital staff gave you a bag with the clothes they found you in. There was a gold pocket watch, an item you didn’t remember having, but you didn’t remember anything, so it didn’t surprise you. You told them to throw everything away, but you kept the watch with you.

You have to stay with them, everything in your life had been reduced to a few boxes they had kept. You lost your home, your identity, you had no money, no job, the only thing you acquired during this whole time was a death certificate.

You start remembering your childhood, slowly at first, a memory here and there, a fall and cut knee, a tea party with stuffed animals, a school field trip, and then years at a time.

You found yourself again. You remembered who you were, your entire life up until you didn’t, the memories fracturing at the end, and the harder you tried to remember how you could have ended up in a different country across the world, your mind would construct horrible images instead, blood, drowning, and death. You couldn’t bare to think of it.

---

“Y/n!” you make your way into the coffee shop, you reconnected with some old childhood friends now that you were back in your hometown.

“Hey, oh my god, who is this big cutie?” Your friend’s dog barks excitedly while you fluff the black fur on his head. He’s so cute, his ears flop to the side with each happy bark.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You’re...well you’re crying?” She looks at you concerned.

You touch your wet cheeks. Why? You don’t know when it started, but as your friend’s dog nudges his head into your palm for more pets, your heart aches.

---

One night, a crazy thought enters your mind. You want to go back to that shop. You want answers. You leave a note for your parents telling them your intentions and pack your freshly made identification cards and travel documents into a suitcase.

So here you are again, in a foreign country, alone again, filled with purpose that seems to pull you in despite how terrified you are.

You scroll through your phone while you lie on the hard foreign hotel mattress. You open a map of where you are on your phone, and zoom out until you see water.

There's islands around the peninsula, you zoom into each one and search each name on your phone, learning each habitat, who lives there, if it is accessible. You do that to pass the time until you fall asleep.

“It’s too dangerous.”

You reach for the merman, grabbing at Yoongi’s shirt and pulling him closer, your eyes meeting his. “Explain.”

Yoongi is taken aback, licking his lips trying to think of a good way to start. "We made a blood pact to protect this island from the outside world, it's indiscoverable and once anyone does come here, they can't leave."

"Why..." you let go of his shirt, but he stays close, "Why would you do that?"

"Think, just think what you humans have done to the world...the others needed some place safe to go to and I-" the merman huffs, "At the time, I thought...well, they were...at the time I didn't mind sharing the island with them. "

Your fingers roll over the bracelets Yoongi put on you. "That was nice of you." The merman glares at you in return.

"You know, they'd come here, we all spent time together." Yoongi's stare is faraway and distant. "In the beginning, at least."

"I-I'm sorry." You hold his hand, and he stares at your fingers only briefly before shaking you off.

"Whatever, I'm surprised they didn't start trying to tear each others throats out sooner," He mutters. "We had portals of course to leave when we wanted to, but one day Namjoon and those dumb dogs destroyed all the portals-"

"What?! Why would they do that?"

"I don't know all the details, but I believe Namjoon did it to protect the rest of his pack. I can respect him for that...but the problem is they trapped us all here like idiots!"

"Is that why you're helping Jin and Jimin?"

"What? To get back at Namjoon? Pfft no. Jin came to me with a deal. He looked off, sick, and he offered me anything I wanted, so I helped him. That's it."

"So technically you can leave the island?"

"I can swim the waters, but I can only go so far, the magic always pulls me back eventually, it's useless to try," he mutters.

You hum.

"Anyways, what Namjoon doesn't know is Jin used some leftover magic and created a portal. Jin has lots of friends that serve him, owe him favors, he uses it as a delivery system."

"So you think if I?"

"That's the only portal I know of, but the magic is dangerous, the vampires put so many protections on their house, they won't even go through it themselves, there has to be a reason, right?"

"I...I'll take my chances."

"They wont even chance going through it, and you will?"

"Yes! And what if I can find a way to break the spell? Then you can finally leave! Yoongi, you have to let me at least try!"

"You're going to get yourself killed one way or another," Yoongi scoffs.

"No, I refuse to believe that."

"You're impossible to understand."

"I'm going through that portal. Then I'll come back for you."

"Wait, you'll come back?" Yoongi asks.

"Well, yeah, if you help me, a deal is a deal. Yoongi please, help me come up with a plan and I swear to you I'll come back with your payment. You're the only one who can search the ocean, you just have to find me again, so what do you say merman?"

"I'll find you again."

---

Your alarm wakes you up. 'What a weird dream,' it felt so realistic. Like all your dreams, the more you think about it, the less you remember, but that man's scarred eyes, whose name you forgot already, they stay with you.

You brush your teeth and wash your face. You notice something as you rinse off your skin. 'What the hell is that?' You inspect the gold writing behind your ear. Taking some more soap, you work to remove it but it doesn’t come off, the glittery ink is permanent. You rubbed your skin raw trying to take it off, it didn’t look like a tattoo, but nothing you did would get rid of the gold markings. You pace around your hotel room, things are getting weirder and you start to feel a nagging sense of dread, but there's a voice inside you that says to keep going until you find the answers you are looking for.

You don't walk right into the shop at first, instead casing out the place. You drink coffee at a nearby restaurant and keep watch on the shop. There are not many visitors, and those who do enter are not who you would expect. You would think maybe some older people who were looking for vintage items would decide to enter, or eccentric younger people, but it was almost always a intimidatingly large man entering, bringing items in rather than taking items out.

You’ve gotten into the habit of playing with the gold chain around your neck, the gold pocket watch had become a permanent accessory.

It's almost closing time for the restaurant, so you reluctantly make your way to the shop, and walk in after a group of tourists.

The shop looks different than what you remember, new items litter the shelves. You hide behind the large cases, studying the objects, until you come across something that makes you hesitate. A necklace with a large red gem hidden behind a thick glass case with a lock.

“You’re that girl! You...you came back.” Your head turns into the direction of the voice, a very old man stares back at you. He looks at you incredulously while you can only stare back dumbly. “C'mon, let’s go,” the old man says, he grabs your elbow. “Seokjin should be awake by now.”

“Let me go! You can’t keep me here!” You pull away from his grasp, your hand tightens around the amulet.

He laughs at you amused, giving you some space. “You walked into my shop, did you not? You don’t want to talk to Seokjin?”

“I…” Do you?! Would he know what happened to you, why does it make you shiver hearing his name.

Wait...you look down at your hand, to make sure you didn't imagine it, and there you see the necklace in the middle of your palm, heavy in your hand, you hide it behind your back, looking over your shoulder to the empty case, the shock of it makes you freeze.

The man looks at you cautiously, “Why are you here, girl? Are you here for Seokjin?”

Seokjin. That name fills you with dread. A vision of a man flashes across your mind only briefly, “I d-don’t know.” The old man raises an eyebrow at you. “Stay here, girl. I'll be right back.”

Where is he going? What is he going to do with you? Your mind spins and the skin behind your ear stings. 'Now y/n. Do it now.' that deep voice is back. You panic when the old man comes back with two others.

'Use the watch, y/n. Use the watch. NOW!'

---

“On one condition, just one.” Jimin hisses.

As you lie on the ground you feel like the weight of the world just crashed upon you. Your chest feels like it’s going to explode, there’s a ringing in your ears, the skin behind your ear still burns hot.

Jimin noticed the sudden shift in your demeanor, the way your heart begins to race as you start to break down. Every day, starting on the night your boat was capsized, replays in your mind as you start to remember your time on the island. You see Taehyung, who looks at you and then his eyes go wide, realizing the situation, eyes ablaze with growing excitement.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Taehyung’s deep baritone voice breaks the silence. You can only take in shaky breaths as your tear filled eyes try to focus on where you are. You traveled back in time, precisely twelve weeks to the second, you’re back on the island, thrown back into your nightmare like you never left. The only difference now is your left hand clutches a second pocket watch, now broken, and your right hand clutches the amulet.

Jimin looks between you and Taehyung. “What have you done?” Jimin accuses Taehyung, whose eyes haven’t left yours. Taehyung’s lips curve into an encouraging smile, he holds out his chained wrists to you. The vampire whips his head in your direction, but it’s already too late. You throw the amulet into Taehyung’s awaiting hands. You didn’t want to give it to him, but as if Taehyung had pulled strings around your body, you complied to his silent request. The minute the gem touches his skin, the gold markings around his wrists burn away.

The explosion knocks you back meters, everything is broken, everything is dust, you can’t see and your body aches. You hear screaming and yelling and groans of pain. You crawl through the debris searching for a way out.

Red light flashes through the smoke. You choose to crawl towards it, hearing Jin’s loud booming voice.

Taehyung pulls you back, his body behind you like it just materialized out of thin air. "C’mon y/n. Let’s escape."

“This...This is all your fault!” He looked surprised by your reaction.

“What you think you know, you’re mistaken.” He lifts you to your feet easily.

It feels like the air around you is vibrating, your body feels lighter in Taehyung’s presence.

“Please let me go,” you cry.

“Don’t worry, once we escape, we’ll be fine again.” His hand holds your hip tight to his body as he drags you in the direction of the portal.

Seokjin crashes into you both, knocking Taehyung away from you. You hear their struggle, and you’re back to crawling away through the smoke helplessly. Your fingers hit the hard cold gem of the amulet, and you wrap the chain around your fingers.

You can’t remember how you found the stairs, the wood half shattered, or the exit, blown wide open by magic, you can’t remember leaving the mansion, you just remember once your bare feet hit the soft grass outside you ran and you didn’t stop running, until you heard the sounds of waves. You ran until water hit your feet and then you screamed.

---

YAY I FINISHED THIS MONSTER OF A CHAPTER (Get it? I’ll shut up). Thank god, I felt as trapped in this chapter as y/n in that damn room :’). Okay, but now we’re getting somewhere! What do you think is going to happen now? Looks like this story might finally be headed off the island :D. I’m excited!

Questions to ponder for the next chapter: What is Jimin’s secret? Looks like there was a good reason for keeping Taehyung locked away, so what is his ultimate goal? What did Taehyung do to you? And why are Jin and Namjoon no longer friends?! Those are just some of the questions floating around in my mind as I am writing the next chapter, now do you have any questions you want answers to? Let me know! <3

907 notes · View notes

raggaraddy · 4 years ago

Text

I'd Die Fighting

Request from @dramaclub-thin: Mafia BTS where the reader is shot for/because of them.

A/N: Thank you for your request! I really like the concept, and kind of got carried away with the stories and now they're too long. So I'll release them as individuals as I finish them. I hope you like them! ^-^

If anyone else wants to request you can here.

Mafia Bangtan Other parts:

Namjoon

Yoongi

Taehyung

Jungkook

Summary: Pinned down by the cops, you know you're the only one who can stop Jimin from getting himself killed.

Trigger Warnings: Police shooting, gun usage, blood, violence, death, ambiguous ending.

Jimin

Mafia! Jimin

You were in the middle of a scheduled pick up, collecting the gang's share of the profits for the month. There had already been 3 today and all had gone as routine as the times before. You're in a residential building site, parked in one of the driveways, and on a Sunday too, so it's nice and quiet and empty. There was no reason to think that this stop would be any different than the last.

That was until the lights and sounds of police sirens filled the street.

You could only watch on in dread as 4 cop cars sped into the driveway trapping you and the two men into a box. With a 10-foot foundation wall behind you and building walls on either side, you were now realizing that this location wasn't so much secure, as it was an obvious dead end.

Looking back in the side-view mirror, you can see Jimin with the dealer. The guy panics instantly, pulling out his gun without a chance to even aim it before he is blown away. There are dozens of deafening shots all at once and the guy, no older than you, drops down dead.

Barely able to contain your terror, you are not able to do anything but to watch helplessly as Jimin dives behind the rear of the car to avoid the stray bullets.

Slowly, the officers start down the concrete path, closing in tighter, all of them with their guns drawn, all of them looking alarmed and ready to fire. With this many cops, you know neither of you stands a chance. There is no escape here, not without a miracle. But you know Jimin. You know he isn't going to just give in. He's said it before, he's said it often. He might die, but he'll die fighting before he dies in a cage.

The officer coming closest to the car bangs on the hood to draw your attention making you jump. "Stay in the car," He mouths the words.

You can't abide. If you don't do something Jimin is going to get himself killed. He may be willing to die, but you're not willing to lose him. You shake your head hard, swinging the car door open, stepping out tensely with your hands upright. Your arms and legs are shaking with pure adrenaline, relying on nothing but a prayer that they don't shoot you right now.

"Get back in the car." "Stay in the car." "Miss, get back in the car." A sea of loud, demanding voices shout at you all at once. While your survival instinct is telling you to obey the angry people with guns, you ignore them all. Your instinct-your love for Jimin is greater than your fear.

Walking paced steps backwards, you're watchfully eyeing them. They're still pressing forwards, but they have slowed substantially. Half of the group aiming more aggressively, and the other half pointing their guns at you more hesitantly. Calls of stay in the car turn into orders to get on the ground. But you can't, you won't.

Coming in line with the back of the car, Jimin is knelt behind it his gun in hand. "Y/n! What the fuck are doing?!" he snaps, eyes full of worry.

He may bluster to everyone else, but you know the full expression. In private he'd whisper the ending to you and only you. 'I'd die fighting before I ever die in a cage. And I'll spend my life locked up before I ever see you hurt.'

"Get back in the car!" He growls.

"No," you whisper.

"Get back in the car!"

"No."

"Oh for fucks sake, will you just listen to me for once!" He growls, running his hand back through his hair, about to lose any composer he has remaining.

"No!" You shout, your eyes darting from the cops to Jimin and back.

He roars, grabbing your shirt, yanking you down the ground beside him. The commands of the police heighten and start coming more frequently as they steadily begin to entrap the two of you again.

"I'm gonna beat the hell outta you after this." He shouts, reaching over the top of the car to fire a slew of shots, not aiming to hit anyone but just trying to keep the cops away.

"Fine. Do it. But just let there be an after." You plead, eyes filling with tears. "Put the gun down. Please!"

"What?! No!"

"Come out with your hands up or we open fire." A far off voice, coming through a speaker, gives a sickening order.

Jimin's harsh defiant look turns to one of pure fright and frenzy. He knows if they're shooting at him, they're shooting at you.

His hand scrunches in the scruff of your shirt, dragging you flat to the ground further out of harms-way, using the same momentum to launch himself into the open, weapon ready. He gets only 2 shot off before they retaliate with more than half a dozen. Not all connect, one catching his leg, another his shoulder. The hits double him over, making him drop the gun.

It all happens before you are able to even turn back over. The sight of him struck has you screaming, acting rashly and impulsively. You wail his name clambering to your feet, wrapping your arms around his neck. Lifting him upright, you're covering him with your body as much as you possibly can. You don't pause think what might happen right now if the officers began to fire again. You only know you need to save him from them. Save him from himself. Pushing him with your chest, you force him back more and more until his body hits the foundation wall. You turn yourself around towards the encroaching men and women, shoving your weight roughly against him. To shield him, and trying your best to keep him pinned to the bricks so he is unable to act suddenly or foolishly.

Thankfully the cops still seem hesitant to shoot at you. Although you don't trust it for it to last much longer.

Your stomach drops, feeling a warm wetness dripping over the exposed skin on your upper back. Jimin's shoulder is bleeding heavily down you.

This is so fucking bad.

"Stop, please stop, Baby!" You whisper to Jimin, nearly unable to form the words due to the shake in your voice. It's just the two of you opposing 7 armed police officer. You know he hates the thought of defeat, he may even hate you for this, but neither of you has any way of winning this standoff.

His forehead presses to the back of your head, his hot breath fanning down your neck. In the smallest motions, you feel him nod against you.

Raising them in surrender, his arms come out from behind you. There's a sharp pain in your side with a sudden booming sound. It knocks your breath away. You whine, your hand squeezing tighter against his legs, into the fabric of his jeans.

"Y/n?" Jimin knows what's happening before you do.

One of the officers mistook Jimins actions as hostile and got twitchy with his gun.

You gasp slumping back into him, your legs weakening. He catches you, lowering with you as you fall to the floor. "Baby!"

Jimin looks up to the cop who fired. He's memorizing every detail of their face. Already having resigned to hunt them down and make them suffer.

Finally able to inhale, you cry out a low scream, pain spreading from your stomach up. "Jimin," you cry clawing his arm, fingers wrapped in his sleeve.

The swarm of police starts to move more frantically. A knee flies at Jimin sending him into the wall, separating him from you. Without him, you fall flat into the dirt. To your right one of the men is forcing Jimin to the ground with a knee trying to flatten him. But he isn't giving in, fighting and struggling against the weight, desperately trying to get back to you.

Even as there are three of them versus only Jimin, he is still putting up enough resistance that they are unable to fully hold him.

"Y/n!" He yells, as one of his arms is pinned behind his back, driving him heavily into the dirt. "Get the fuck off!" he snarls.

Your throat feels full. You're starting to choke, spluttering blood out and down your cheeks. Your hands clutching your stomach are wet and slippery from blood. The heavy amounts of it pouring from you making you weaker with each passing second.

"Alright!" There's a heavy thump as Jimin stops resisting and is plunged aggressively into the floor. "Just help her! Help her!" With all of the pain and fear you're feeling, it's the pure panic in Jimin's voice that finally brings you to tears.

Rolling your head towards him, his chin is dug into the concrete floor, his skin and clothes red with blood, his face pale and flush, his eyes red and teary with emotion. With him no longer fighting they are able to cuff his hands. They haul him to his feet, carrying his weight. He yells in pain, his cries turning into pleas for you, calling again and again for someone, anyone to help you.

One of the officers comes to your side pressing firmly on your wound making you shriek, spitting out even more blood. They speak into their walkie-talkie describing your state and injuries calling for an ambulance. Explaining that a male will be coming to the hospital by a police cruiser.

In front of you, the others are dragging a limping Jimin away. Being pulled from you he begins his fight again, battling to not leave you. But he's too injured and restricted to combat them much more. Only able to call out to you over and over.

Even as the car doors close on him, you can still hear him shouting your name. Even as you lose consciousness you can still hear the echo of his voice.

#bts #bts fanfic #bangtan #jimin #park jimin #yandere jimin #bts jimin #yandere bts #yandere bangtan #mafia jimin #bts requests #bts reactions #bts mafia imagine

292 notes · View notes

dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Bubblegum Princess, Cherry Angel | Kai Parker

Hello my lovelies! 2020 is almost over, can you believe it? I sure as hell can’t! I have no idea what inspired this, I truly don’t, but it seemed only fitting to end this year off with a raunchy round of sex! Because why the fuck not! I hope you all have a safe and wonderful new years, and I can’t wait to see you all in 2021! Please enjoy loves!

Description: He smells her bubblegum lip gloss and then wonders how on earth he managed to convince an angel to let him fuck her into next week, let alone get in his truck.

Pairing: Kai Parker x Female!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC ONLY!! Smut (terribly written smut is more accurate), nothing more than the usual but, like, it is like 7000 words of pure sex so read at your own risk

Word count: 9.2k

Tags: SMUT, FLUFF

The four hours in which it took two people to find magic within each other, all thanks to one tube of drugstore, bubblegum lip gloss.

Hour One

Her bubblegum lip gloss attacks him from all the way across the café, cutting cleanly through the aroma of coffee and donuts and sending his heart racing at the obscenely sweet scent. He should hate it. No, scratch that, he shouldn’t think anything of it at all. It’s not in his nature to enjoy things- or to feel things at all, to be frank- but he can’t help it. The drugstore brand, wildly over-scented balm makes his head fuzzy like nothing else.

Kai watches as she pours over the book in front of her, tilting his head when she scrunches her nose. She murmurs something inaudible, tapping a pen to her lip a couple times. One tap, two taps, three taps. Each time that pen touches her lip he grows more envious, his heart now very much in his throat. Does the pen know her lips taste like candy? Does it at least have the courtesy to enjoy it? He releases a breath when she finally writes something down, leaving her mouth alone.

He forces his eyes away from her and back to his own coffee. Well, the term coffee should only be loosely used here; it’s more sugar and cream than actual coffee. The sweet syrup warms his chest as he takes a sip, lighting his taste buds on fire. Maybe this is what her lips taste like. He shakes his head to clear her face from his mind- a task much more impossible than one might think- before setting the mug down and turning to the device between his fingers. A cell phone.

Kai presses the ‘on’ button, his eyes lighting up with the screen. Damon had handed it- the cell phone- to him a few days ago, muttering something about leaving the 80’s in the past where it belongs, and told him to get used to it. A little apple symbol appears and he scrunches his eyebrows. Is that supposed to be there? It disappears, replaced now by a picture of the forest he took a couple days ago. That’s better. He swipes past the lockscreen, coming to a page of little square pictures. Damon said those are called apps.

He clicks on one with a little bird- Twitter, he thinks it’s called- and opens it, scrolling a little sloppily through the page. He comes across a picture, one with a man holding a guitar, and stops to look at it for a minute. It looks like someone he used to know and he clicks on the picture to check. That looks like the same birthmark and he kind of remembers the guitar-

All of a sudden the picture starts moving and music starts blaring from the phone, filling the quiet café with an obnoxious twang. It startles Kai, his heart jumping and his cheeks much too hot, and he drops the phone on the table, a sharp bang now joining the music. He grabs at his phone frantically, feeling all the stares that are now on him as he blindly searches for the ‘off’ button and sighing in relief when the screen goes black once more. Cell phones are awful, he decides in the moment.

Kai hears soft giggles as his shoulders sag, the same bubblegum fragrance tickling his senses. The musical laughter and the sugary gloss are a lethal combination, one that taunts his senses and consumes him whole. The giggles echo in his ears, invading his head and bouncing around every nerve. He turns towards the sound- he doesn’t have a choice- and his eyes meet the girl, zeroing in on her glossy lips now wrapped around the end of her pen. He takes in her face, every curve and edge, before landing on her eyes and promptly losing his breath. Does she know she’s the prettiest woman he’s ever seen?

He smiles at her and rolls his eyes in what he can only hope is a playful way, holding up the phone and shrugging his shoulders. Her eyes draw over his face and down his arm, trailing fire over him with her very gaze before landing on the estranged device. She giggles again and Kai wishes he could grab the sound out of the air and pocket it. Is that normal? He bites his cheek as she looks back to her book, the pen still between her sweet lips. He doesn’t bother trying to answer the question; he doesn’t care.

He clicks the phone once more, this time simply to check the time. A quarter to five. He glances back at the woman, his eyes widening as she slips her book into the leather bag hanging off her chair. Shit, she’s leaving. He stands quickly, shoving his phone in his pocket and slapping a five dollar bill on the table. When he looks up again she’s at the door, her bubble gum aroma fading as she clears the threshold. He shrugs his jacket on, racing out the door to catch up with her.

The cold air bites his skin as soon as steps onto main street, his eyes scanning for the pretty girl with the worn satchel and voice like a siren. He spots her halfway down the square and doesn’t think for a moment before jogging to meet her, his chest a mess of warmth and butterflies. Her head is down, lost in the sound of her heels against the pavement and quite oblivious to the love struck puppy chasing after her. It seems that only a bark will catch her attention now.

“Hey, wait up,” Kai calls, his heart screaming in his chest, “you forgot something.”

He’s a few feet away from her now and her bubblegum scent has morphed into the sweetest mixture of maraschino cherries and candy and every, little, perfect thing he’s ever experienced. It makes his mouth water and his cheeks flush, two things which are only intensified when she turns around and her eyes light up, a soft smile taking over her supple lips.

She tilts her head at him, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, “I did?”

He almost can’t answer, the cheesy line he had already lined up on his tongue melting away at the sound of her angelic voice. Two words. Two little words and she has him completely wrapped around her perfect finger. He doesn’t understand the feeling in his chest, the way her voice makes him feel like he’s breathing for the first time in his entire life, but he doesn’t care. That’s a recurring theme with this girl.

A grin spreads across his face, his stomach twisting as he finds his words once more, “you did,” he nods, taking half a step towards her. “You forgot to let me buy you dinner.”

Her face lights up even further as she throws a hand over her lips, her giggles once more flooding his body with tingles. She looks like an angel, the way her eyes close slightly when she laughs. She must know what she’s doing to him, how when she throws her head and her neck curves against the setting sun his entire body goes stiff. His fingers squeeze at his sides, wanting nothing more than to trace over her soft skin. What is going on?

“How silly of me,” she murmurs, her pretty eyes- yes that’s all he can think, that they are the most pretty eyes he’s ever seen- dancing over his face, “how could I possibly forget to let a man- whose name I don’t know- ask me to dinner?”

His cheeks flare with heat but he can’t wipe the adoring smile off his lips, “where are my manners? I’m Kai,” her takes her hand, pulling it to his lips and stealing a few more of those delicious giggles from her throat, “and I would really like to buy you dinner.”

She hums appreciatively, a wide smile on her lips. His heart flutters rapidly when she twists her fingers into his, running her thumb over his. Every part of her is soft- gentle- and he would give anything in that moment to be able to pull her into his arms. That isn’t normal, though, he knows that much.

“Kai,” she tests his name on her tongue and his heart stops, his whole being screaming at him to beg her to say it again and again, “I like that. I’m y/n,” she supplies and the name clicks into his chest like a missing puzzle piece as she continues on her little ramble, “Kai.” She tilts her head, her eyes clouded over in thought, “something is missing, though. Is that your full name?”

His eyes widen, his chest flooding with dread at her soft inquiry, “no, actually. It’s Malachai,” he winces slightly as it rolls off his tongue- he always has hated that name- watching her closely for the moment she recoils in disgust, “I know, what were my parents thinking right? I sound like a villain-”

“I like it better,” she interrupts, her eyes catching his and her hand squeezing a tad harder, “it suits you. Malachai.” This time when she says his name he has to swallow the lump in his throat, his stomach tensing, “tell me, Malachai, do you like pizza?”

Hour Two

Her heart pounds hard in her chest as she sits in the booth across from him, his chocolate and honey scent still clinging desperately to her hand. She brushes an invisible strand of hair from her face, using the excuse to breathe him in again. He’s intoxicating, she muses to herself. Does he know he’s the most handsome man she’s ever seen? He smiles at her, his grin tugging at his red lips and sending her heart even further into overdrive. He must know.

“I hope this place has good pizza,” Kai laughs, the sound like heaven to her ears, “I haven’t actually tried it yet. If it’s awful I give you full permission to hate me.

She laughs as well- she can’t help it, she never giggles this much but he around him it’s impossible to not- pressing her hand to her mouth, “you’re lucky then; you chose my favourite restaurant. I always make sure to stop by the grill when I’m home. The pizza here is wonderful.”

That’s what she says. The pizza is wonderful. What she wants to say is that she doesn’t think she could ever hate him. That five minutes under his gaze, listening to his smooth voice and honeyed laugh, is enough to have her completely spellbound. That she’s almost certain by the time an hour passes she’ll forget every other boy she’s ever laid eyes on. What she wants to say is that she thinks he’s wonderful. But that’s not normal- not proper- so she just smiles at him.

He tilts his head, his eyes skimming over her face in a way that makes her cheeks warm, “when you’re home?”

She nods, trying to ignore the way he leans towards her slightly and how it makes her blood pump harder, “I go to school out of town. Not too far away but far enough that I have to live on campus. I actually have to head back tonight,” her heart stings for a moment, thinking about how she only just met him and now she has to leave, “I was only here for a day.”

“So I only have a few hours,” he hums, his smile like a bullet straight to her heart, “I think that’s enough time.”

His fingers slide slowly across the table, his pinky skimming her hand. It’s the simplest of touches- just a brush of his skin against hers- but it’s like she can feel all of him through it. She can feel his hands skimming her body, every inch of it, in intricate detail, as if she’s been in this very moment before and her muscles can recall each of his. It only increases when he grins, no doubt catching the way she sucks in a breath. The sinful twist of his lips strikes something in her. She has felt those lips on her, perhaps not in this life but definitely in another. She can feel it.

She’s breathless, the phantom feeling of his mouth on hers consuming her completely even as she speaks, “enough time for what?”

He slips his fingers between hers and she sighs, the feeling of their hands fitting so perfectly together overwhelming, “enough time to make you fall in love with me, obviously.”

Her mouth falls open and he laughs again, pulling her arm across the table and kissing her knuckles once more. Too late, she wants to scream, you don’t need an hour. She pulls her bottom lip between her lip, artificial bubblegum bursting across her tongue. His lips on her skin is too much; too much and not enough all at the same time. How is that even possible?

She doesn’t need to ask herself the question again. No, this isn’t normal. Nothing about how she feels right now is normal. Not the way she wants to wrap her arms around Kai, not the way she feels like she knows him already, and especially not how she’s dreading leaving this town when normally she wants to run as far away from it as possible. The most not-normal thing about it all, though, is the way she wants to tell him each and every one of those things. She wants to grab his face, run her fingers through his gorgeous hair, and tell him everything she’s feeling right now.

But she can’t so instead she whispers, “what if I make you fall in love first, Malachai?”

Kai squeezes her hand tighter, his legs tangling with hers under the booth. His lips part, his tongue darting out and wetting his lips. Her heart hammers in her chest as she watches, ridiculously jealous at the notion of not getting to taste him in the same way. Her body floods with heat when his eyes twinkle, a response dancing on the very same, traitorous tongue, but before he can answer their waiter arrives, setting down a large pizza and turning to face her. He has blonde hair and an easy smile, one that would send most girls reeling. Matt Donovan. She remembers him from high school; he was a good kid but they never really ran in the same social circles. She doesn’t regret not knowing him, his group is part of the reason she left this town.

“Alright, one pizza. Is there anything else I can get for you,” he smiles at her and her heart doesn’t hammer anymore, it slows.

She tightens her fingers around Kai’s, her voice less melodic than moments ago, “no, this is great thank you.”

Matt nods, stalling a moment and smiling at her. She can feel Kai tense, his legs stilling against her own. Her eyes dart between the two and she catches the way his eyes narrow at the blonde, his head tilting as if calculating what he should do. His chocolate scent increases, if that’s even possible, wrapping around her like a blanket as he sits up straighter. Matt doesn’t even look at him, his eyes focussed on her and her alone.

“You sure I can’t get you anything else?”

She nods but before she can speak Kai answers, his voice clipped but a smile on his lips regardless, “actually,” his eyes lower to the nametag on Matt’s chest, “Matt, we’d love a box.”

Matt’s eyebrows scrunch and she giggles, a tad confused but deeply invested in the cruel twang to Kai’s voice. She meets his eyes, pulling her lip once more between her teeth and swallowing her heart that has crawled it’s way into her throat. Something about the way he’s holding himself- the way he taunts the boy she went to school with only a few years ago- makes her feel alive. Who would have thought that the bubblegum princess would get such a thrill from watching the devil go head to head with the boy next door?

“A box?” she has to stifle another giggle, not wanting to appear rude despite how much joy she’s feeling.

Kai nods, “please, and the check. We really should get going now.”

Her heart thrums, wondering what on earth he’s up to. She doesn’t care. It’s starting to become a recurring theme with this boy; how little she cares about anything but being in his presence. Each second that passes she falls deeper into something she can’t explain. Her heart jumps when Kai’s eyes meet hers, his smile softening from the malicious grin that he had been aiming at Matt. She shakes her head lightly, nudging his foot under the table and rubbing her calf against his.

“Alrighty,” Matt grumbles, “I’ll get that for you right now.”

She watches as he walks away, turning back to the man across from her with a grin on her glossy lips, “how am I supposed to fall in love with you when you don’t even feed me?”

He laughs, tugging her hand to his mouth. She’s starting to think that her hand belongs there, pressed against his lips for eternity. Every time his lips swipe across her knuckles she swoons, sparks tingling up her arm. If his lips feel this good against her hand then they must feel even better- no, nevermind that.

“You can eat in the car,” he suggests, his eyes searching hers as he draws another knuckle to his mouth and nipping lightly with his teeth.

The feeling of his teeth scraping against her skin sends her reeling, a shiver racing up her spine as she registers his words. In the car. She presses her lips together. What does that mean?

“Malachai?”

“Let me drive you back to school.”

Hour Three

Kai watches her steal the last piece of pizza and laughs, tossing the box into the back of his truck and pulling her closer on the bench seat. She tangles her fingers through his free hand and his heart explodes in his chest. His eyes lock on the road again but his thoughts are stuck on the beautiful girl beside him whose hands are wrapped around his arm. She clings to him, her bubblegum and cherry and just plain irresistible scent invading his senses. She leans her head against his shoulder, rubbing her cheek against his jacket, and he forgets that she hasn’t been in his life more than three hours.

They’ve been driving for an hour, laughing and talking as the sun set. She’s told him about her major, about the books she reads and her parents. She’s spouted all the lines of her favourite movies and listed her favourite cities in order even though she’s only been to a couple. He, in turn, has told her about his favourite song. He told her about the time he broke his leg and how he isn’t usually like this. How he’s never like this. She agreed with that, taking the opportunity to tell him how focussed she usually is. He didn’t mind when she spoke over him. Had it been anyone else he would have but he could listen to her talk for ages. She makes hours feel like minutes- like seconds- and every sign they pass he gets more and more desperate. He doesn’t want to leave her. He wants more of the minute-like hours.

“What’s your favourite color,” she mumbles, running her nose over his arm.

He’s never understood why people care about favourite colors. It’s just so trivial, the answer always changing, that it’s never made sense to him. Is it possible to have a favourite color? He doesn’t think so. For some reason though, when she asks him and her voice goes high at the end of the question- as if she’s truly dying to know his favourite color- his heart stammers, not wanting to mess up the answer. He glances at her, his eyes finding her bubblegum cherry lips. Maybe he has a favourite color after all.

“Red,” Kai responds, running his thumb over her wrist and smiling when she shivers against him, “my favourite color is red.”

She hums appreciatively, her voice bouncing around the cab of his truck, “I like red too. It’s not my favourite though.”

Her fingers untangle from his, her hand landing on his thigh, using him for balance as she tucks her legs underneath her. Kai sucks in a breath at her touch, a tingle shooting up his spine. Her innocent eyes peer into his, no doubt still thinking about colors without a care in the world. His mind, on the other hand, couldn’t be further away from the color wheel.

“Why’s that,” he forces out, his voice gravelly, “what’s your favourite color?”

“Black,” she answers and for a moment he doesn’t think about her hand still curled around his thigh, “I think I like the color black.”

He scrunches his eyebrows. Black. He wouldn’t have pegged her for a dark colors kind of girl. Every part of her screams light. Goodness. She seems like the type of girl who likes laying in the sun and eating ice cream on hot days and filling the bath with more bubbles than water. No, she doesn’t seem like she is; he knows she is. He doesn’t have to ask her to know that she is the complete opposite of him.

Kai can’t stop himself from asking, “why the color black?”

She moves her hand back to his arm, wrapping both of her arms around his, and he lets out a sigh of relief. Well, relief mixed with frustration. He didn’t want her hand gone, he wanted it higher. He’ll take her wrapped around him though, it’s just as good. It’s better. He can think of a hundred different ways he would like this woman wrapped around him.

She presses her lips to his shoulder and he wishes the stupid jacket would just burn, “because it suits you. I didn’t think I liked it before today but now I think there’s something beautiful about it.”

Kai’s hand finds her thigh, his heart pounding fiercely, “the color?”

She gasps lightly when he squeezes, a sound that hits him straight in the gut. He does it again, this time harder, and she presses her forehead against his shoulder, her soft moan tumbling against him. His hand tightens on the steering wheel at the sound. He has no idea how he managed to get an angel into his truck. How he convinced her that he was good enough to sit this close to her; good enough to hold her in his hands and hear her pleasure.

“The darkness,” she whispers, her voice hitching when his hand slides higher, “I didn’t think I would like the darkness this much.”

He digs his fingers into her jean-clad skin, reveling in her warmth and the way she squeezes her thighs around his hand. He bites his cheek, barely containing his own moans. She’s not even touching him and yet the sound of her voice alone has him so close. His eyes read the next sign, sucking in a harsh breath. Ten more minutes and she’ll be out of his truck.

Kai looks over at her- perhaps for what will be one of the last times- forcing a sharp smile to his lips, “this darkness is nothing, princess.” His voice is hoarse, his words soft but pained, “it’s just a glimpse. I don’t think you would like the real thing as much.”

He watches as her eyes widen, her mouth falling open a touch. Exactly, he thinks to himself, now you’re starting to get it. He clenches his jaw, going to move his hand from her heavenly thigh when she stops him, her hands closing around his wrist. His shoulders- among other things- tense as she drags his fingers to settle directly between her legs, using her hand to guide his motions and arching into his touch. Holy fucking shit.

“Princess what-” Kai tries to process his thoughts clearly but he can’t; the heat seeping from her and her fingers pushing his to rub against her are much too demanding for him to form a coherent sentence.

The sign for her university comes into focus as he rubs his fingers harder against her. A soundtrack of her moans fills the cab of his truck, her hands wrapping like a vice against his arm as she presses her face once more against his shoulder. He curses, breathing in her sugary aroma, his chest flooding with heat. All he can think about is how he has to park this damn car before he crashes and doesn’t get to experience more of the exquisite creature next to him. She rolls her head back onto the seat, spreading her legs further for him, her hands never leaving his arm.

“Just try me, Malachai.”

Hour Four

She moans as Kai’s hands find the button of her jeans, the tires of his truck screeching as he finally pulls into her dorm’s parking lot. As soon as he shifts the gears into park she’s on him, grabbing the collar of his jacket and pulling his lips to her own. God, she was right, he tastes chocolate and mint gum. He groans into her mouth, one of his hands finding her hip and pulling her onto his lap while the other goes to her neck, pushing her lips against his. She presses against him, rocking against the hard bulge in his jeans and gasping against his mouth.

“Malachai,” she murmurs, her hands sliding through his silky hair, “I need you.”

He wraps his arms around her back, pressing his chest against hers and backing her into the steering wheel. Her heart thunders when his lips meet her jaw, nipping at her skin before sliding back to her lips and pulling her bottom lip between his teeth.

“Fuck,” her body lights up at the throaty tone of his voice, “are you sure, princess?”

She nods, the words lodging in her throat as Kai’s lips trace to her neck, his tongue flattening against her pulse point. She’s sure alright. She’s never been more sure of anything. She wraps her hands around his back, clawing at his shoulders and mewling at his skilled lips. She tugs at his jacket, trying her best to convey her need for the material to disappear. The girl is rarely speechless but right now, when she needs her voice the most, it’s as if it’s nowhere to be seen.

“Off, please get it off,” she finally murmurs against his lips, her hands splayed hard against his jaw as he shrugs the jacket off, “I need to feel you.”

Kai’s fingers curl around the hem of her shirt, sliding underneath and around her back, his fingers digging into her spine deliciously. She rocks higher on his lap, her lips finding his throat and sucking his warm skin into her mouth. She runs her tongue against the hollow of his throat, smiling when he bucks his hips against her. Tingles shoot through her as he brushes against her and she lets loose another moan into his skin.

“More,” she fumbles, seeing stars behind her eyelids, “I need more. I need all of you, right now. Please.”

She doesn’t even know what she’s saying; she just knows if he doesn’t make love to her soon she’s going to literally combust. She slides her hands down Kai’s chest, her fingers slipping beneath his shirt and glimpsing at his hard muscles. Her fingers explore slightly and she reels when he tenses under her, a breathy moan of his own joining hers.

He crushes her against him, his head falling against the seat, “angel, I will do whatever the fuck you want me to but not in my truck.” His hand slides to her ass, squeezing so hard her core clenches, his name slipping from her lips, “I am not about to let just anyone watch me fuck you into next week. That’s mine and mine alone.”

She can hear exactly what he means; you’re mine and mine alone. It sends another wave of heat coursing over her, her core clenching again, harder, and she nods furiously against his neck, “my room. Now!”

He laughs, pulling his keys from the ignition and opening the door. She giggles with him, sliding out of the truck and all but dragging him with her. He kicks the door shut, his arms wrapped around her stomach and his face buried in the side of her neck. She squeals gleefully when he lifts her, her back pressed against his chest as he kisses the side of her neck and spins her around. The cold air nips at her stomach, exposed from where her shirt rides up.

“Malachai,” she whines, her hand sliding behind her and into his hair, tugging a tad harshly, “please hurry, baby.”

“You’re no fun, angel,” he murmurs against her skin but sets her down nonetheless.

She wraps her hands around his arm, tugging him to jog after her, her giggles spilling into the night, no doubt waking up some of the other students as she leads him through the campus. She doesn’t care, she hasn’t felt this free in ages. He laughs with her and the sound of his joy exhilarates her, lighting her whole being up with a dangerous kind of fire. It weighs down her limbs, pooling in her stomach and soaking her jeans. His hand links with hers, his fingers squeezing hers as her body tingles. She’s so close to her dorm she can taste it- taste him and everything he’s going to do to her- and she hurries quicker.

She tugs him around a corner and he stops abruptly. Her heart jumps in her throat, wondering for a moment if he’s changed his mind. When she turns to look at him, though, his dark eyes pour over her, his lip pulled between his teeth. He looks like he wants to take her right here on the stoop of a dorm that isn’t her own. She squeezes her thighs, trying to ignore the part of her that reels at the thought.

“Kai-”

He pushes her against the brick of her dorm building, his mouth slamming against hers, his tongue slipping between her lips, “Malachai, princess. That’s my name. Say it.”

She moans at his soft and stern tone, grinding her hips against his the best she can, “Malachai, I need you.”

He nods against her lips, his hands wrapping around her hips and pulling her up his body. She wraps her legs around him, sighing when he pushes her harder into the wall with his hips, pressing his hard length against her covered core and moaning into her mouth. His scent consumes her, lingering in her chest when he pulls back, his eyes consumed by darkness. Her heart thunders when his nostrils flare, her thighs clenching around him at the sight of his flushed cheeks.

“What room number,” he pants, grinding his hips and sending another relentless wave of heat racing through her.

She presses her mouth against his, her tongue lapping at his minty lips, “I’m in 102.” She tugs his bottom lip, pulling a heated groan from his chest, “it’s just a few doors down. Please, Malachai.”

She kisses down the side of his throat as Kai searches for her room, running her nose along his warm skin and sinking as far into his arms as possible. She tugs the key out of her bag when he slows, leaning away from him to unlock the door before turning the knob and all but falling into her room. She giggles as they stumble, pushing the door shut quickly and throwing her keys to the floor. No need for those anymore.

He tosses her on her bed and she can’t help but giggle at the feeling of her plush blanket, knowing soon it will be brushing her bare back as he slides into her. He makes quick work of her heels, pulling them off and tossing them to the side. She winces when she hears them clunk somewhere in her room- that loud sound better not have been one of them breaking, Kai- but is soon distracted when he kicks his own boots off, kneeling on the bed and crawling towards her. The bed sinks at his knees and her body thrums in anticipation.

As soon as he’s within arms reach she grabs him, her fingers twisting in his t-shirt as she hauls his body over hers. Well, she tells herself that she’s the one who brings him closer. In reality it’s he who complies, letting her command him in whichever way she so pleases. He leans down, finding her mouth and kissing her hard, lowering some of his weight onto her. She moans, pressing back against him and wishing that his clothes would just vanish already, their mutual affinity for jeans starting to become a problem.

“Angel, fuck,” he murmurs as her hands slide once more under his shirt and he grabs her fingers, pulling her wrists above her head, “I need permission right now before we keep going. Yes; I fuck you. No; we cuddle. I am more than fine with both options.” One of his hands slides down her belly and wraps around her hips, fire flaring everywhere he touches, “what’ll it be, princess?”

He hovers over her, his gray eyes soft on hers. For the first time tonight she can see them clearly and her breath hitches, an unexpected wave of emotion flooding her chest at the way he’s looking at her. All that talk about darkness and he’s anything but. She yanks her arms from his hand, instead loosely hanging them around his neck. She arches her chest as close to him as she can, feeling each layer of clothes between them in agonizing detail.

“As wonderful as cuddles sound,” she tangles her legs around his hips, pulling his hardness back to her heat, “I really need you to fuck me.”

A wicked grin settles over Kai’s face, his lips drawing to her ear and pulling the lobe between his teeth, tugging hard, his words sending shivers through her body, “then I think it’s high time these clothes go, don’t you?”

She nods, her voice choosing once more to vanish at the most inopportune moment. He pulls her onto her knees, his lips brushing her jaw softly as his hands find the hem of her shirt for the last time, dragging it slowly up her stomach and over her chest before finally discarding it next to the bed. His fingertips draw over her skin lightly, his pinkies grazing the valley of her breasts and his thumbs smoothing over her collarbones. Even the slightest touch makes her clench, knowing he’ll soon be putting those fingers to good work.

She thanks the heavens for a moment that she thought to put on a nice bra, her body flushing with heat when Kai sucks in a breath at the blue lace barely concealing her peaked nipples. His hands circle her waist, his thumbs trailing fire over her soft skin. He darts his tongue out again against his bottom lip, watching her breasts rise and fall with her breaths like a starved man. If a look could ever make someone come on the spot it would be this one. She takes a sharp breath, her chest swelling, the cups of her bra stretching, and his eyes darken.

“Fucking hell, you really are an angel, aren’t you?” he slides his hands up her ribcage, over the flimsy material covering her and flicking her hard nipples, his mouth falling open in a half smile at her breathy sounds, “my angel.”

She gasps, her eyes as wide as saucers, and Kai smiles, fully, his eyes flitting to hers as he does it again, watching her face as his fingers lazily sweep back and forth over her buds. Each brush of his fingers sends a jolt of electricity straight to her core, her body tensing at each pinch. Her hands jut out, grabbing onto his shoulders as to not fall over from the sensation. She squeezes her thighs, rubbing her jean clad legs together in her best attempt to quell the raging fire but it’s useless. Only he can put it out and he knows it, chuckling- a sound like ice cream melting on a hot day; slow and sweet- at her sweet agony before finally slipping behind her back, his fingers finding the clasp of her bra.

“Perhaps I should leave this on, hmm?” Kai teases and she whines, arching her back into his hand. “Watch the way you bounce,” he leans down, his mouth capturing one of her nipples through the lace, his tongue hot and wet against her, “the way the lace pulls.” His teeth find the edge of the cup gently, careful not to ruin it as he drags it over her chest. She jolts when his lips graze her nipple directly, a small taste of his electricity, “what do you think angel?”

As soon as her breast is free from the lace she digs her fingers through his hair, desperately pushing his face back to her chest, “please take it off.”

He laughs, his hot breath fanning her bud as his fingers pull at the hooks behind her back, finally releasing her from the suddenly constricting material. She hears it hit the floor but she doesn’t watch where it lands, her eyes locked on Kai’s as he lowers his mouth back to her nipple, his other palm sliding up her ribs to tease her other breast. His hair tickles her skin as he flicks his tongue over her, his fingers imitating the same sensation, twisting and flicking her peaked bud in time to the laps of his mouth. Her stomach twists, her core dripping from the stimulation.

“Malachai,” she pleads, her fingers tugging at his hair, trying to find his eyes desperately, “please more. I need more.”

Kai tugs her nipple between his teeth, biting harshly and pulling a small hum of pleasure from her lips as waves of heat attack her body, “patience, angel.” He runs his tongue over her burning bud, soothing her skin once more, “I want you to feel everything. I want you to remember it- me.” He kisses across her chest, pressing his lips gently against her sternum, “every kiss-” he bites at her breast, sucking her skin roughly into his mouth, sending another jolt through her core, “every bite.” His hands drag down her stomach, lazily drawing circles as he teases the waistband of her jeans, “I want you to think about me in every class, I want my name to be the only thing you can say when you go to answer a question. That will take patience-” he kisses her stomach, his tongue dipping against her bellybutton and his fingers grazing the lace under her jeans, “but I think maybe these can go.”

She moans her agreement, the sound tearing from her throat as she nods, most likely once a coherent thought but now just a mess of want- of need. Kai quickly pops the button of her jeans, his fingers digging into the waistband and yanking, tugging her pants down in a way that very much goes against his wish for slow. She lifts her hips from the bed, helping him as much as she can to get the damn pants off. He chuckles as she writhes, each gentle laugh zeroing in on her now barely covered core and sparking little fires across her clit. The sound of the material finally pooling on her floor is like music to her ears but her eyebrows furrow when she looks at him, still completely clothed.

She sits up on her elbows, biting her lip, “come here,” she coos, her voice breathy and her chest heaving, “please, Malachai. C’mere,” she sighs when he complies, her fingers twisting his shirt when he settles between her thighs, “this should have come off ages ago.”

She clenches her bare thighs around his own jean covered legs, mewling as the rough material scratches deliciously at her skin.

“Of course, angel,” his nose skims over her neck as she pulls the material from his body, his voice low and teasing, her fingers gliding over the hard dips of his abdomen, “where are my manners.”

She hums happily- a kitten purring from some much needed attention- as he pushes her back, his sculpted stomach now fully on display for her viewing pleasure as the soft blanket tickles her bare skin. His attention is now focused on the matching, blue lace that is not even trying to conceal her core. Kai slides off her bed, kneeling beside her, and her mind races, her heart thumping hard in her chest. What are you-

Her thoughts are interrupted when his hands dig into her hips, tugging her so that her legs dangle off the bed. He spreads her thighs, his eyes latched on hers as he leans down, kissing the inside of her thigh much too lightly. Her fingers dig into the comforter as he pulls her legs over his now bare shoulders, his hot skin soothing her aching muscles. He plants another gentle kiss on her other thigh and she almost screams- do something Kai, do anything, please- her breath ragged as she watches his lips crawl closer to the soaked lace. She digs her heels against his back, hoping to spur him closer to her.

He runs his nose along the lace, straight down her clit and she gasps, the sensation like lava flowing through her veins, “Kai!”

He flicks his head up, squeezing her hips harder, “what did I already say about that, angel,” he kisses under her belly button, purposefully avoiding her throbbing nub, “what’s my name?”

His gray eyes are wild, filled with a hunger that makes her clench around her emptiness.

She digs her heels harder against him as his teeth tug at the lace, his name a delicious moan on her tongue, “Malachai.”

“Very good,” he praises, “you’re so good for me, baby.”

She moans again as he strikes gold, no response to the name other than pure lust filling her body. His hands tug at her panties, finally pulling the last article of clothing- if a piece of sheer lace even counts as clothing- from her body, exposing her pulsing clit to the cool air of her room. He sucks in a breath, leaning down to blow warm air against her, spreading her legs even further. She throbs, watching as he finally lowers his mouth, his tongue licking a stripe directly to her core and planting stars behind her eyes.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans, more to himself than her, his muscled arms wrapping around her thighs and crushing her to him, “I was right you taste like fucking candy. So damn sweet.”

He dives back against her, his hot tongue flicking her bud back and forth. Waves of white fire pour through her, compressing together in the pit of her stomach. Her fingers dig into the sheets, tugging at the plush comforter because she knows if she runs her fingers through Kai’s hair she might just rip it out. Her back arches, her breasts greeting the air as Kai’s tongue swipes straight to her core again, dipping into her heat before going back to her clit sucking hard.

He moves one of his hands between her legs, his fingertips lazily circling her entrance as he continues to devour her, “so wet for me, baby. From the moment I first touched you,” he muses, his eyes finding hers over the arch of her sternum and swell of her breasts, “it’s like you knew I was coming.”

“Maybe I did,” she pants, squeezing her thighs around the man buried between her legs, letting out a strangled gasp when he sinks one of his fingers into her, “maybe ever since I locked eyes on you-” another gasp, this time from him pushing a second finger in and curling them both- “I’ve wondered how I’m going to forget you.”

He curls his fingers faster at her words, sucking that much harder on her nub. His eyes stay latched on hers, dark and determined. The ball of fire grows dangerously as his fingers brush over a spot- the spot- and she groans, her hand finding his hair. She doesn’t care anymore, tugging harshly on his silky hair and pushing his face as close to her as she can, grinding against his lips as her whole body starts to tingle. It’s like someone replaced her veins with fluorescents and Kai’s tongue is the outlet.

“Well maybe,” Kai curls his fingers and her body jolts, teetering on the sweet edge of nothingness, “baby,” his voice is just this side of taunting, his tongue finding a tortuous rhythm, “I don’t want you to forget me.”

He curls his fingers one more time and she falls- quite possibly in more than one way- over the edge, an earth shattering orgasm tearing through her entire body, “fuck, Malachai!”

Her body trembles in his arms, his fingers still twisting inside her, his mouth still latched to her, sucking and licking until she comes down from her high. She sinks back into her comforter, entirely spent and limbs heavy, his name still a moan on her lips. Her heat throbs, clenching and unclenching as she watches him stand. Maybe she isn’t so tired after all. She pushes her heels into her bed, crawling back towards her pillows as his hands find his belt, making quick work of the leather. He doesn’t bother pulling it from the loops, he just hooks his fingers in his jeans, his taut muscles heaving as he shoves his clothes off in one steady push.

She moans as her eyes land on everything he’s been keeping from her, her mouth watering at the sight of his thick, hard shaft bouncing slightly against his abs. She sinks back against her pillows, her toes curling at the thought of him- what was it Kai said? Oh, right- fucking her into next week. She stretches her arm out, her eyes lidded in anticipation and her nipples peaking once more, and curls her fingers at him. Come here, she almost screams, come burn yourself into my very being. She’s doing her best to remain composed but her skin is flushed, the feeling of his lips still fresh on her body, and her core aches to be filled with something more than his fingers.

He kneels on the bed once more, his lips tilted and his eyes dark, and he crawls back to her body. He grabs her thighs when he reaches her, pushing her knees to her chest and baring her core him, stretching her muscles deliciously. She grabs his shoulders, digging her fingers into his warm skin and tugging him to hover over her, her legs pressed between them. His shaft presses against her still sensitive clit and she hisses, giggling slightly from the stimulation.

“Angel,” Kai murmurs, his lips pressing against hers as he rocks his hips against her, his tip teasing her entrance, “fuck, just tell me you don’t want to forget me.” He pushes in a few inches and she gasps, cooing at the way he’s already stretching her walls, “tell me you’re mine-” he pushes further, his eyes locking on hers and making her core tighten, her fingers digging harder into his skin. “Tell me you’re mine even if you’re lying.”

He pushes all the way into her, his thighs pressed against hers and his hand shoved into the pillows beside her head, keeping him from falling against her. She feels the most full she’s ever felt, her heat pulsing as he gives her a moment to adjust. She can feel each breath he takes, each slight bump of his hips as he holds himself back, each twitch inside her like he’s a lit match and her body is a temple about to be burned to the ground. She shifts against him and a line of fire zings straight from her bellybutton, a tremor of pleasure shocking her heart. Burn me, please, she chants in her head.

“How could I forget about you?” She breathes, her mouth falling open when he slowly pulls back, only to snap his hips back into hers, driving himself deeper than the first time, “why would I- ah,” Kai presses his chest against her knees, pushing her further into the mattress and leaning on his forearms, circling his hips and stealing the air from her lungs, “I’m yours, Malachai.” She resigns, her train of thought long gone, “all yours.”

“Absolutely right, baby,” he growls, pulling out of her again and slamming back into her as soon as the words are out of her mouth, “mine.”

His hand grabs her knee, pulling her legs apart to wrap around him as he settles into a faster pace. She wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers anchoring in his hair and tugging his lips to hers. She squeezes her thighs around his hips, her toes curling from his bruising pace, whining when he almost pulls all the way out of her once again before thrusting back. She arches her spine, her chest bouncing against his as he circles her arm around her back, pulling her flush against him.

She drags a hand down Kai’s back, her nails digging against his skin and drawing a sinful moan from him. His lips latch on to her jaw as he thrusts harder into her, his arm sliding behind her neck and holding her closer, “fuck, you’re so tight-”

He lifts to his knees, bringing her with him and shifting the angle of his thrusts, his shaft brushing the same spot from before. She lets go of his shoulders, falling back into her pillows to grip her fuzzy sheets for dear life. She can feel the fire from before start building again, only this time hotter, and she rocks back against him, doing her best to match his pace but it’s impossible. He has her legs around his waist still, her bottom half clean off the mattress as he pounds her top half into the pillows; there is nothing for her to do but let the pleasure wash over her.

Kai pulls her leg further up his chest, hanging it from his shoulder as he smirks, tugging his lip between his teeth, “if only you could see how pretty you look princess, all stretched out for me.” She clenches at his words, the ball of fire pulsing dangerously, and he tightens his hand on her thigh, his eyes going dark, “do you like it when I praise you baby?” His voice is throaty and she can feel him twitch, just as close to coming undone as she is, and her walls clamp around him harder this time, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“More,” she begs, screwing her eyes shut and letting the sound of his voice push her closer to the cliff, “tell me more. Please!”

He sucks in a sharp breath, his hips slamming impossibly harder against hers, brushing that magical spot relentlessly. His fingers slide down her leg, dragging through her folds to find her throbbing nub, circling his fingers lightly and drawing a strangled scream from her lips.

“And what should I tell you, hmm?” He presses harder against her clit, his fingers picking up the pace to keep time with his increasingly sloppier thrusts, “should I tell you that you look exquisite wrapped around my cock?” She moans, his words making white flash behind her eyes, her core squeezing and sending the first taste of her second orgasm spiraling through her, “that I can’t wait to flip you over in a minute and make you cum again,” her legs jerk, the second wave so much more intense than the first, so much more earth shattering, “and again,” he pushes into her one last time, throwing them both over the edge, “and again, angel.”

Her whole body splinters when he empties himself into her, meeting her release with his with a shuddered breath. She can’t even scream his name- god, she certainly tries though- the white, hot pleasure coursing through her veins, stirring a new life into her bones, only allows her to whisper it. Mouth it over and over again as he collapses against her sticky chest. Fuck, Malachai. He pulls out of her and she hisses, swallowing the last wave of electricity as she stretches her bones, delighting in the careful pop of her joints.

“Fuck,” Kai rolls onto his back, his eyes shut and his mouth wide open, “that was-” he props himself up on his elbow, his eyes now open and swimming over her face, “that was just wow, baby. Fucking wow.”

She giggles breathlessly, her legs jelly as she turns to him, reaching her arms out. Her body still craves him, her skin aching to press against his in a way she’s never experienced. He wastes no time scooping her up, wrapping an arm behind her knees and pooling her on his chest. His other hand glides up her spine, his fingers pressing hungrily into her flesh. Her thighs slip around his hips as she sinks against his chest, her face finding the crook of his neck. His hands work at the kinks in her shoulders and she shivers, her body starting to light up again.

“Fucking wow,” she agrees as she presses her lips against his throat, squeezing her thighs as his fingers draw lower again, swiping over the dip at the base of her spine as she murmurs a soft, “you don’t have to leave yet, do you?”

Kai’s body tenses under hers and her heart stutters, her chest stinging- oh, maybe he does.

“If you do though that’s okay,” she rushes out quickly, pushing her hands against his chest to put some distance between the two of them, “I don’t want to keep you if you, uh, have places to be, I guess-”

He tightens his arms around hers, sitting up quickly, keeping her in his arms as he does so, “I have nowhere to be but here.” He presses his lips against hers and she sighs, reveling in his slightly salty taste, “nowhere I want to be but here, princess”

She nods, brushing her nose against his, “okay.”

Her fingers tangle through his matted hair and he sighs, leaning down to brush her back. Okay. It’s not what she wants to say- something more along the lines of please never leave- but she can settle for it for now. She shifts to straddle his thighs better, pressing her chest against him and sighing at the growing electricity. Round three it is. When she kisses him back she can swear she tastes a hint of her bubblegum gloss on his lips.

“Okay,” he agrees.

797 notes · View notes

duskamethyst · 4 years ago

Text

playing with fire.

a/n: sooo this is my take on the racer!AU. i’ve spent some time watching movies about car racing to get a grasp on the whole scene so i hope i executed this well enough. i also used some terms that are related to cars and wtv, so you can google if you're curious.

word count: 3.8k

genre: smut, nsfw, mature, quirkless AU

warnings: illegal street racing

pairing: racer!keigo x f!reader

summary: keigo is notorious for being the king of speed and drifting in car races and you’ve caught his attention since the first night you joined as a line girl. although keigo has his eyes on you for a while now, he realizes that he might’ve missed a few things about you. and well, surprises aren’t exactly bad.. right?

keigo loves speed. he loves the adrenaline pumping in his veins.

and what better way can he express his love for it?

cars. races.

keigo is a force to be reckoned with. he grew to be infamous for his incredible skills and talent in the scene and because of that, he also became the main target for the cops.

however, he’s not aiming for anything in particular. yet he doesn’t mind the prizes that come with it either; recognition, money, women.

and boy, how he can easily get anyone wrapped around his finger.

but one thing he’s irritated about is how you’ve never paid him any attention. he got some killer looks, has won so many races, fucking loaded with money and he’s pretty confident about his size too (you can ask the other girls if you need reference, by the way).

what more does he need to entertain you?

keigo gets excited when you’re filling the role of the line girl for his races on certain nights. he knows that it’s the best opportunity to show you what he’s made of and he wants you to know that you shouldn’t be taking him so lightly.

the starting line is crowded with car enthusiasts, boys and girls alike– gathered for their love towards expensive sport cars, the sound of roaring engines, the thrill of watching and betting between two racers. the roads on the city outskirts has been put into lockdown by the responsible crews to avoid disruptions from other vehicles or bystanders.

keigo pulls up to the arena with his red nissan a few minutes early, not wanting to be late especially because he's the main star for tonight. his avid followers would already be there before him and instantly swarm around his loud car to cheer him on, wish him luck and maybe give him some kisses on his cheeks too.

as he’s chatting with the people around him, his golden eyes wander around from time to time to catch a glimpse of you in the arena. his eyes narrow when he finally sees you standing and talking by the window of his rival’s car.

he wishes he could hear what you’re talking about that makes you all smiles and giggles while all he has ever gotten is the cold shoulder. keigo leans on his car, arms folded across his chest as he watches you from afar. he can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes when he notices you kissing the guy’s cheek before you walk away and strut in his direction to get across the other end.

a playful smirk tugs on the corners of his lips by reflex as he watches you come nearer, the noises of the engines and chatters around him are quick to become white noises. yet, you only spare him a glance.

“hey,” you stop in your tracks and turn once you realize that he’s trying to talk to you and his lips curl into a lopsided smile as he smizes you with his golden eyes. “i’m keigo.”

you look at his extended hand peculiarly before shaking it firmly. “yeah, don’t humble yourself. all people here know you.”

“oh?” he raises a brow in amusement. “i’m just saying because you’re kinda new here.”

you smile, “already keeping tabs on me, keigo?”

“how could i not?” he chuckles. “always gotta keep you in my sight.”

“right,” you scoff. “what if i say that i’m taken and he’s my boyfriend?” you tilt your head to the side to point at the guy you spoke to earlier.

keigo inhales through gritted teeth, feigning a pained and offended expression on his face. “then you have a bad taste in men.”

“ha-ha,” you roll your eyes, pretending not to be amused by him yet he can see the small smile on your lips. “race is starting soon, you should get in your car.”

“don’t you wanna kiss me good luck?” keigo stares at your ass as you turn to walk away but he quickly shifts his gaze to your face once you turn to look at him.

“i don’t think you’re the type that believes in luck.” you flash a sarcastic smile before striding off towards the front center of the track.

two race cars come forward before the red line that was freshly sprayed just a few minutes prior. keigo watches you as he revs his engine, sending a flirtatious wink when your eyes meet.

ignoring him, you raise both arms in the air, glancing between the two males who now have intense glares on the road ahead as they grip their steering wheels and gears firmly.

“ready! set!” you shout through the revving engines and the cheers from the mob. “go!”

the moment you draw your hands down, both vehicles instantly speed off and emit white smoke from the friction of tires on the asphalt. when you spin around, you can vividly see that keigo is the one eating dust.

keigo is calm and focused. like a hawk soaring in the blue sky, he keeps his prey within his vicinity before he waits for the right moment to pounce. he loves to chase– purposely letting his opponent get swept by their own overconfidence before he severely crushes down their will by swiftly changing the lead. some wouldn’t take the risk, but keigo absolutely loves the devastated look on their faces when he veers beside them by surprise.

any regular racers would be familiar with the track by now. he presses the clutch as he changes necessary gears while the mph meter increases gradually as his right foot presses down the accelerator continuously. keigo skillfully speeds through tunnels and every sharp corner until his bumper eventually lightly hits the race car in front of him, making the two of them neck-to-neck.

however, the car in front of him keeps on shifting side by side in an attempt to stop him from getting the chance to overtake. despite the adrenaline pumping in his veins, keigo is patient. he’s aware of the corner ahead where people usually make the same mistake and that’s where he finds the opening to strike.

approaching the said corner, keigo has expected that the other car would make a wide angled drift thus with his own dexterity, he maintains perfect control as he drifts through the entire corner.

“hah, bastard.” he snickers, glancing at his side mirror to see the other car struggles to catch up from the poor oversteering.

keigo steps on the gas harder before he activates the nitrous oxide and boosts his ride until the finish line; easily completing the whole lap with the other car just a decent gap behind.

his ears are ringing with cheers as steps out from the car as people instantly flock around him to express their praises for his victory. keigo notices you weaving your way through the crowd to reach him and a triumphant smirk curls on his lips.

“i’m not surprised.” you say, voice lacing in sheer amusement.

“yeah, but you’re the big prize for me tonight.” he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer, ignoring the people around him.

“i wasn’t a part of the bet.” you chide.

keigo smiles at you endearingly before he gaze trails far in the distance. “we gotta run.”

as if on cue, the most hated and startling siren echoes through the street. everyone quickly scatters to their cars and drives off while you get inside keigo’s car with him. he wastes no time and speeds off before one patrol car chases after him.

“hold on, baby.” he swerves through corners, changing gears as he presses the gas harder to try and get the police off his tail. “one more corner will shake him off.”

keigo expects you to be frantic but he is caught off guard when he realizes that you’ve opened the window and stuck your upper body out of the car window.

“what are you–”

you lift up your shirt and flash your tits at the cops behind you, “fuck you!”

a look of shock is apparent on his face but then he laughs to himself, thinking that he’s seeing you as you actually are, even for a brief second, and not the cold façade you’ve always shown him.

you get back in and sink in your seat just before keigo makes it to the last corner, giving him a chance to widen the gap between him and the car behind him before he quickly brakes at a dark, quiet alley.

“think we lost them.” he peeks through the rear view mirror to see the patrol car passing and missing the alley you both are hiding. “let's wait for a few minutes before i take you home.”

the both of you stay in the car for a few moments, making sure that there are no more cops patrolling the roads before he starts to drive off to your house. keigo doesn’t know why but he suddenly finds himself to be rather nervous now that you’re alone with him. he chooses not to make you uncomfortable so he geeks about his car instead and talks about which car he’d like to own next and gives his own elaboration why he adores it in the form of horsepower, engine and all the shit that you’re probably not too familiar with.

now he feels like an idiot.

keigo hits the brake once you tell him to stop in front of your apartment and he’s a bit upset that the journey ended quicker than he thought.

“thanks for the ride, keigo.” you say before opening the door and step out.

“sure thing. sorry if i talked too much.” he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment.

but he feels relieved and his confidence flows within him when he hears you laugh. “it’s fine. you did rather.. well.”

“you’re not too bad yourself,” he grins, knowing that you’re not talking about the race he won. “flashing your tits like that. you’re full of surprises.”

you close the door and lean down to the open window, “and i assume you’d like to know what i have up my sleeves?”

“i’m taking you out after my next win.” he snickers, honey orbs glinting with overflown confidence and mischief.

“only if i get to drive.” you smile cheekily, leaving him stunned before a cocky smirk etches on his lips.

“bet.”

it has been two weeks since keigo last saw you and tonight is another night that you’re filling in as the flagger. he’s uncharacteristically super pumped for his race tonight, coming with extra determination to absolutely annihilate the race since he can’t wait for the biggest prize that awaits him.

he watches as you stand in the middle of the starting line, not missing the wink you give him before you glance at the other male to see if both contenders are ready. both cars rev their engines as they wait for your signal. this time, keigo immediately accelerates with incredible speed and smokes the other, not offering the slightest chance for his opponent to take the lead.

the battle takes place in the parking lot tonight– from the basement until the rooftop. keigo is notorious for his drifting skills so he’s able to ascend to each floor without breaking a sweat, oversteering through every spiral ramp that eventually leads to the rooftop.

sounds of screeching tires can be heard from the wire. the winner is already expected by the crowd, yet they all stay and wait at the finish line to welcome the first car to arrive. sooner than later, keigo’s car is the first one to appear and the mob instantly runs over to him while the other arrives seconds later with some ugly dents and scratches on their car.

“you really didn’t hold back, huh?” you chaff, resting your arms on top of his shoulders before he pulls you into an embrace.

“i just couldn’t wait to take my prize back home.” he whispers in your ear, just audible for the two of you but before he can take the chance to kiss you, you pull away.

“come on, playboy. let’s take a drive.” you quickly jump into the driver’s seat and rev his engine. as he’s about to open the other door, you intentionally step on the gas to make the car move forward.

“you can do it.” you laugh, moving the car forward again when he tries to open the door.

“not funny, kid.” keigo looks at you in annoyance before quickly opening the door and sitting beside you.

“i’m just teasing you.”

keigo rolls his eyes and sighs, “okay, go slowly when we’re going down the ramps.”

he guides you the whole way down, reminding you to be careful of the corners and to keep watch on both side mirrors as you drive down until you’ve successfully reached the exit of the building and onto the main road.

“that’s good. i guess you know how the clutches work now. so when you want to drive faster, you should– holy shit!”

you immediately accelerate and skillfully shift gears as you drive through town. keigo on the other hand, quickly wears his seatbelt and holds onto his seat in fear for the whole ride. it must be the terrified look on his face because he can hear you laugh like a maniac as you drive even faster.

“fuck! slow it down, kid!” he yells, staring widely at the road in front him to make sure you’re not crashing his car to any poles or other vehicles.

keigo swears that his soul has already flown out of his body but luckily you both have made it in front of your apartment unscathed. he has no idea how, but he’s fucking glad the car has stopped.

“that was fun!” you chirp and turn off the engine.

“n-never again.” he stammers and quickly finds solace by stepping on the ground, thanking the lords that he still has the chance to see another day.

“get a grip, keigo. you’re lucky i didn’t use nos.”

you get out of the car and hand him his keys before leading him inside your complex.

“i wanted to drive to your place but you were busy screaming when i asked you where you live.” you purposely pick on him, remembering how he couldn’t utter cohesive words except for ‘watch out!’, ‘holy shit!’ and some other things of those sorts.

“shut up.” he pinches your arm.

“but my place is okay too, right?” you smile sweetly as you open your door and pull him inside. you both quickly take off your shoes and keigo’s arms easily wrap around your waist to pull you close.

“if here’s where you want to show me the tricks you have up your sleeves, why not?”

“but you didn’t seem too entertained with my surprise earlier.” you pout innocently, leading him towards your bedroom.

“i appreciate it.”

keigo crashes his lips onto yours and pushes both bodies back down on your bed. he quickly takes off his leather jacket along with his shirt and throws it to the floor before his hands roam around your body while your hands run through his fluffy blonde hair.

you moan into the kiss when you feel his erection grinding against your pussy and he breaks away to pepper kisses down your neck. keigo takes off your shirt and unclasps your bra before he latches his mouth on one of your hardened nipples and tweaks the other between his fingers.

“you’re so impatient,” he mumbles, pressing down your clit through the damped panties. “you’re so wet and i barely touched you.”

“stop it, keigo.” you whine breathlessly, rubbing the bud against his finger shamelessly to relief the dull ache.

“hm? i’m just teasing you.” he mocks. “can’t take it?”

“you’re an ass.” you bite back playfully, making the male chuckle with mirth.

keigo takes off your skirt and pulls down your panties, smearing his thumb with your slick through your puffy folds and revels over how warm and drenched you are.

“fuck.” he hisses as he watches you squirm from his touch. “what do you want me to do to you, babe?”

you nibble your lips anticipatingly, “hmm, show me how fast you are in bed.”

his eyes twinkle with pleasure and his lips twist into a sardonic smile, “oh? that sounds more like a challenge to me.”

keigo bends your knees up, holding your ankles as he dives down to lick a fat strip of your essence. you shudder from the feeling of his wet muscle lapping the slick up and down while he gazes at your blissful expression through half-lidded eyes. he intentionally circles your throbbing clit with the tip of his tongue and gives a harsh suck that causes your legs to tremble.

“mmph– keigo!” you whimper, trying to close your legs together but he only pushes your legs up even more until your ass is lifted from the bed.

he drags his tongue down slowly then prods it inside your dripping hole. he wiggles his tongue all around your walls, shoving it as deep as he can until most of his face is buried against your cunny. your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when you make eye contact with the male– his gaze is predatory and intense, his expression inexplicit as he continues to fuck you with his tongue.

the warm muscle brushing rapidly against your walls feels so lewd yet arousing. keigo can see that your tummy begins to twitch as your breath comes shorter while your legs shakes uncontrollably. keigo pulls away, licking his lips t0 clean off your juices yet you can still see some leftovers glimmering on the tip of his nose and his chin.

“shit,” he slides in a finger inside your quivering hole and groans over the feeling of your walls clenching around it. “you’re ready to take a cock, aren’t you?”

“mmhmm, please.” you whimper, grinding your hips to match his pace after he fits in another finger.

“i like you begging like this. not very cocky now, huh?” he curls his digits inside you, dragging it against the spongy part that bounds to tip you off the edge soon.

“oh, fuck–” you gasp as the muscles in your lower stomach continues to tighten vigorously. “keigo– wanna cum–”

“then cum.” he snickers, pushing his fingers back and forth at a ruthless pace while his thumb ghosts over your neglected clit. “come on. you can do it.”

keigo mocks again, not minding how he comes off quite petty since he’s the one who has the upper hand now. so he uses that opportunity to make you beg and given the fact that you’ve grown more desperate, you let it slide.

“p-please–” your hips are shaking, begging for one final push before you can completely reach your orgasm.

“you need me to touch this clit, don’t you?” he coos, grazing his thumb teasingly.

“pleaseplease. need you, keigo. make me cum–”

keigo generously rubs tight circles on your clit, causing your body to spasm violently as you’re pushed over the edge and cream all over his fingers. keigo crawls on top of you, drowning your moans with a fervour kiss and the saltiness that has enveloped his tongue embeds with your taste buds.

“but that wasn’t enough to show you how fast i can be, right?” he chuckles, freeing his throbbing cock from its confinement, tip already flushed with a bead of precum before he shifts back down and lines with your quivering hole.

you gasp when you feel his cock stretches your sopping cunny, each bulging vein brushes against your walls as he fills you to the brim.

“shit. i– ‘m so full.” you sob, clenching your sheets firmly before he takes out his cock halfway and pushes back inside you steadily.

“f-fucking tight. your pussy’s sucking me so well.” he props on his hands so he can look into your eyes while he pounds inside your pussy. reflexively, your legs are wrapped around his waist and allows keigo to ram deeper and concurrently kissing your cervix with his tip.

“hah– feels good–” you moan. “choke me.”

your request took him by surprise and it’s clear from the way his cock suddenly twitches inside you. nonetheless, he complies; circling his palm around your throat and pressing carefully.

“mmph– yesyesyes!” your eyes roll back as your mind slowly becomes cloudy from the lack of oxygen while the male growls above you, sheathing his thick cock in and out as your walls clench around him.

“goddamn, you’re clamping down on me.” he says through gritted teeth, applying more pressure around your neck as he thrusts harder.

the air in the room is filled with the sounds of his balls smacking your skin and lewd squelching noises. the pressure inside your tummy builds up drastically and your toes are curling as you chase for another orgasm while you submissively let keigo milk his cock with your sloppy cunt.

“come on, baby. cum on this fat cock.”

you’re unsure whether your mind is playing tricks on you or whether keigo’s pace has become more relentless and incredibly fast but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when it feels so good, the pressure inside your stomach is threatening to snap.

“keigo–!” with a loud cry of his name, you finally come undone– pussy fluttering around his cock and he finally lets go of his hold from your neck to let you breathe.

“fuck yeah. good girl.” keigo nibbles on your neck, marking you with purple bruises as he rides through your high. his sporadic thrusts soon starts to falter and you know he’s just close when you feel his cock twitching inside.

“fuck– baby– i’m gonna cum.” he says through grunts, brows furrowing as he desperately reaches for his climax. his hips stop moving abruptly, groaning in your ear as he fills you up with his load.

the two of you stay in trance for a moment, regaining your composure before keigo pulls out his spent cock and lies next to you. while keigo is still in a daze, you get up and reach for the drawer beside you and get on top of him. keigo snaps back to reality when he hears the clank of a metal sound above his head. by tugging his wrists, he can figure that it’s a metal handcuff. once again, keigo is astonished. it’s confounding and thrilling; how many more surprises do you have in store for him? all underneath that cold guise, he has never expected you to be such a fun person to be with.

“round two? so soon.” he smirks conceitedly, golden eyes shining brightly with eagerness. “i must’ve been that good, huh?”

but you only chuckle and shake your head before looking at him dead in the eyes. he’s slightly perplexed, but his blood run cold once you show him a shiny badge in your hand.

upon his obvious dismay, you return his smirk. “keigo takami, you’re under arrest for participating in illegal street racing.”

#keigo takami #takami keigo #keigo x you #keigo x reader #hawks x you #hawks x reader #hawks smut #keigo smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha hawks #hawks fanfic #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #bnha au #hawks au #r; writes

516 notes · View notes

jungwonenthusiast · 4 years ago

Text

Friend's Don't Lie Ch. 3 & 4

Pairing: Jungwon x reader

Warnings for this chapter: Jay trying to smoke lmfao, swearing

Word count: 2.6k

Based on: Stranger Things

Jungwon

“No fucking way.” Jay shakes his head. “I swear she did it!” Jungwon voices. “You know him right? Sunoo?”

You nod.

“This is insane. How would she know him?” Jay scoffs.

“Have an open mind.” Jake says.

“How can we trust her?” Jay argues.

“Why not?” Jungwon says.

“No, she’s crazy.” Jay climbs up the stairs and opens the door to leave but it slams in his face. “What the fuck.” he opens it again just for it to shut again.

They turn to look at you.

“No.”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“I’m telling you, she’s a psycho.” Jay sighs.

“No she’s not, she has super powers.” Jake sits next to her and she smiles.

“So where’s Sunoo?” Jay asks and you look away. “See? She doesn’t know.”

Then, you stand up and walk over to the table where the Dungeons and Dragons game lays. They’re eyes widen. You pull the board out and flip it upside down so that the board is just black.

You point at the board. “He's here.”

“What do you mean?” Jungwon asks.

“He’s here.” you point again.

“No he’s not.” Jay groans. “Sunoo’s been kidnapped.”

“No he hasn’t,” Jungwon sends him a stern look. “Something fucked up has happened. I can feel it.”

Jay scoffs. “What are you? Psychic?”

“Shut up,” Jungwon rolls his eyes. “Things have just been… off ever since that night.” “So what does this mean?” Jake comes up to the table. “She just flipped the board upside down.”

“Upside down.” you pick up the wizard character, Sunoos character, and place it on the board.

“Shit,” Jungwon says. “Is that where he is?”

“This is kind of crazy.” Sunghoon chuckles.

“Kind of?” Jay exclaims.

“Listen, they obviously have some kind of connection. She recognized him in the picture and she knows who he plays.”

“So what’s he doing in there?” Jake furrows his brow.

“Hiding.” you say quietly. Jungwon can tell that you’re scared.

“From what?”

You pull the demogorgon out of the box and slam it onto the board.

Jungwon makes eye contact with Jake.

“What. The fuck.” Niki says.

“What- what does that mean?” Jungwon looks at her.

“Monster.” you say quietly.

“Monster?” Jay bleats. “What are we in Alien now?”

“You don’t understand.” you say. “The world is more than you know.”

That silences Jay pretty quickly.

“So you know where he is.” Jungwon confirms and she nods. “Can you take us there tomorrow after school?”

“After school?” you tilt your head.

“Yeah, at three fifteen.” he says.

“Three fifteen.”

“Mhm, here,” he takes his digital watch off and fastens it onto your wrist. “When it says three one five, come meet us out by the power lines.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Okay, don’t forget, three fifteen.” Jungwon tells you the next morning.

You nod but you seem blue. Your eyes are duller than usual.

“You okay?” he asks and you shrug. He sits in front of your fort.

“Jungwon-ah! Time to go!” Mrs. Yang calls out.

“One second!” he yelps. “What’s up?”

You hesitate. “I don’t like being alone.”

“I know, being alone is boring, but I can’t stay here again, I’ll get in trouble.” he sympathizes.

“Will they hurt you?” you ask, worried.

“My parents?” he cocks his head and you nod. “No no, they won’t hurt me, they'll just be upset.”

You nod and look down.

“I’ll be back soon though, just stay put until my parents go to work, okay?” he reaches to grab your hand and you flinch. “Shit, sorry.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. I’m just not used to it.”

He smiles at you. “See you soon El, don’t forget, three fifteen.” he says as he walks up the stairs.

Everything is strange. The carpet feels weird on your feet. You’ve only ever walked on cold tiles.

You venture up to his room.

His room is dark and lived in. There are science fair trophies on his dresser and the walls are covered in band posters.

You touch one of them.

“The Cure. Boys Don’t Cry.” you say softly.

He has a bookshelf full of cassettes tapes and novels with the spines peeling off. There’s a couple baskets of vinyls on the floor and you squat to look at them.

You read them all outloud. “New Order, The Police, The Human League, Black Flag, Duran Duran, Devo, Misfits.”

You don't know what they are. You remind yourself to ask when you see him again.

You climb under his covers and snuggle into his pillow.

You notice that he still has a stuffed animal on his bed and you smile.

Jungwon

He finds you standing tensely by the powerlines. Your arms crossed and your shoulders hiked up.

“El!” he jogs up to you. “You okay?”

You smile a small smile and nod.

“You ready to take us there?” he asks.

“Yes.”

You hop into the Camaro and tell him every time he needs to take a turn until they arrive at their destination.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Are you serious?” Jay scoffs.

You had brought them to Sunoo’s house.

“What?” Jungwon says to himself. “He’s not here, El.”

“See? She’s a liar.” Jay groans.

“I’m not a liar.” you say.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Sunghoon sighs.

“You don’t understand.” you grumble.

“Then help us understand!” Jay says, agitated.

You shake your head in annoyance.

You all slump into your chairs when the blaring of sirens catch your attention.

You all twist to check out what’s going on. It’s a dozen police cars driving at the speed of light.

Jungwon puts the car into drive and follows them.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

CHAPTER 4

Jungwon

He can’t believe his eyes. He feels his knees buckle as Sunoo’s limp body is pulled out of the water.

He doesn’t remember anything that happened that night except the way he screamed at you.

“You liar! You fucking liar! I trusted you!”

Words couldn't explain how he felt. He felt cold but there was a fire building up in him. He’d never been that angry in his life.

He doesn’t understand. That body is fake. Sunoo is breathing. You can feel it.

Jungwon

You try to sit next to him on the basement couch but he scoots away.

“Jungwon,” you say but he ignores you. “Won.” that gets his attention. “I am not lying to you.”

“You keep saying that,” he groans. “You expect me to believe you? I saw him with my own two eyes.”

You shake your head. “It’s fake.”

He scoffs.

“I’m not lying.”

“I’ve had enough of this-” he stands up to leave but you grab his hand.

“Jungwon, please listen to me.” you pull him back down to sit.

You reach to the table and grab his walkie talkie. Your eyes shut and the basement light flickers.

Jungwon’s about to get up to leave again when he hears static, and Sunoo’s soft voice.

“Darling you got to let me know,” Sunoo sings, as quiet as ever. “Should I stay or should I go?”

Jungwon’s jaw nearly drops.

“If you say that you are mine, I’ll be here ‘till the end of time-” his singing is cut short.

You look at him, waiting for a response.

“Was that?” he looks at you, dumbfounded.

“Sunoo.” you nod.

“How’d you..?”

“Friends don’t lie.”

He pauses for a moment to process everything that just happened, then his head drops. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” you say and he shakes his head.

“No it’s not. I shouldn’t have yelled at you last night. I’ve been so rude.” he looks up at you for a second just to look away again.

You pick up his chin and his eyes widen.

“It’s okay. People make mistakes.” you say and he smiles.

You want to hug him, but you’re not sure how to. He looks so small right now. He looks like he needs a hug.

Jungwon

You hold onto his hand for a quick second and his heart leaps into his throat.

“What’s wrong?” you say and he looks up at you.

“What?”

“Your cheeks.” she points. “They’re red. Are you angry?”

He touches his cheek. “No, no, I’m just…” he giggles. “No, I'm not angry.”

“Your ears too.” you point and he grabs at his ears.

“I-it’s nothing.” he stutters and you shrug.

“I wanted to ask you something.” you say and he nods. “What are those things in the boxes on your bedroom floor?”

He ponders for a moment. “Oh, my vinyls?”

You shrug. “What's a vinyl?”

Has she never listened to music? He wonders.

“They’re like these discs that you put onto a player and they play music.” he explains.

You furrow your brow but nod.

“Maybe we can play them sometime when my parents aren’t around.” he smiles.

“And the papers on the wall, The Cure, Boys Don’t Cry.”

He sighs and grins. “The Cure, they’re the greatest band ever. You have to listen to them, they’ll change your life.” He begins to drum on the air and sing a tune. “I would say I’m sorry if I thought that it would change your mind, but I know that this time I have said too much been too unkind.”

“Pretty.” you say and he looks down, blushing again.

A moment passes before he speaks up again. “I have an idea.”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“How are we gonna sneak her in?” Jake asks. “She doesn’t have any normal clothes.”

“She can borrow some from Jooyoung noona.” Jungwon says.

“She’ll fucking kill you if she finds out.” Jay says.

“I know, so none of you say a peep.” Jungwon orders.

“It’s kind of funny watching her beat you up to be honest.” Niki chuckles and Jungwon glares at him.

“Remember the time she gave him a swirly.” Sunghoon chimes and the whole group breaks out into laughter.

“Yeah I remember, I almost died.” Jungwon sneers.

“Honestly I wouldn't mind if she gave me a swirly if her tits were pressed up on my back like that.” Jay jokes and Jungwon pounces on him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that man.” Jungwon huffs and rakes a hand through his hair.

“Is it so wrong to say your sister is hot?” Niki holds back a laugh.

“You wanna be next?” Jungwon raises an eyebrow and Niki playfully gallops away.

“You guys are weird.” you say quietly and Sunghoon nods in agreement.

“You’re all getting off track, how are we gonna sneak her into our classes?” Jake finds comfort in your fort.

“Do you think we can say she’s a new student?” Niki suggests.

“No, no one can know about her.” Jungwon says.

“Why not?” Jay asks and lights a cigarette.

“Dude, what’d I tell you about fucking smoking?” Jungwon groans.

“Just light an incense.” Jay says and Jungwon grabs the cig.

“My mom’s not an idiot.”

“Maybe we can just get her in during lunch.” Niki suggests.

“How is she gonna get on campus?” Jake asks.

“She can hop the fence and meet us by the gym, no ones there during lunch.” Sunghoon says.

Jungwon turns to look at you. “Do you think you can jump a fence?”

You stare back at him. “I’ve never tried.”

“We can meet her at the fence and then help her over.” Jay says.

“Wait, how’s she even gonna get to the school, it’s not like she can drive.” Niki says.

“Fuck you’re right.” Jungwon sighs. “Do you think you can bike there?”

You shrug.

“Of course she can’t, she can barely talk properly.” Jay grumbles.

“Stop being a fucking dick head.” Jungwon snaps.

“Okay bitchy Betty.” Jay jokes.

“Maybe I can just give you biking lessons tonight?” Jungwon turns to you. “What do you think?”

“Okay.” you say and he smiles.

“Here, hop on,” he holds the bike steady for you. It’s late at night and it's so cold that clouds puff out of your mouths every time you talk.

You hesitate. “What if I fall?”

“You won’t, I’m holding on tight.” he assures you.

You grab the handles and try your best to get on. You wobble and let out a small squeak.

“This is scary.” you say to him and he chuckles.

“It’s scary at first, but you’ll get it soon.” he says.

He gives you a moment to regain your balance. The moon is shining bright in his backyard and it’s illuminating his face.

“Ready to peddle?” he says and you shake your head. “Come on, it’s easier than you think.”

“Fine.” you mumble.

He holds on the back of the seat and one handle as you slowly push forward.

“I’m gonna fall!” you yelp.

“No you’re not, look how good you’re doing.” he says as you pick up speed.

And soon, he’s jogging to keep up to you. You don’t even notice that he took his hands off the bike until he points it out.

“Let’s leave the backyard,” he says and points to the gate. “Go through there.”

You follow suit.

Riding the bike is invigorating. The wind is cold and crisp against your skin. You’ve never felt anything like this before.

Eventually you look back; you see Jungwon jogging after you, his smile as bright as ever. You smile back so big that it almost hurts your face.

You let your leg down to stop yourself. He catches up to you.

“That was awesome.” he says, a little out of breath.

You giggle and his eyes widen.

“What?” you ask.

“I’ve never heard you laugh before.” he says and you look away sheepishly.

You’re all alone on this dark road and the only source of light is the moon. The scene would be eerie if Jungwon wasn't there with you.

“Well, now you know how to ride a bike,” he says. “Do you think you can make it all the way to school?”

“I think so,” you nod and he nods back.

A moment of silence passes before he speaks again.

“So how’s the fort? Is it too small?”

“Only a little, I like it though.” you reply.

“I wish I could build you your own room or something,” he says. “You could sleep on the basement couch but that’d be pretty risky.”

“What about your room?” you ask cluelessly.

“My room?” his eyes widen. His eyes are already so big and when he widens them they basically take up half of his face.

“Why can’t I sleep in your room?” you say blatantly.

“Uhm, I guess you could. That’s kind of risky don’t you think?” he says and you shrug.

You rub your arms from the cold.

“Let’s go inside,” he nods to his house. “It’s freezing.”

Jungwon

You both sneak back into the basement and he waits for you to wash up in the bathroom. He sticks his hand through the door and gives you a fresh set of clothes. Today it’s plaid pajama pants and a sweatshirt.

“Do you ever get bored here?” he asks as you change.

“Not really,” you say.

“What do you do when I’m gone?”

“I go to your room and look around.” you say and he goes beet red.

“What do you look at?” he asks, suddenly embarrassed. It's not like he had anything to hide, but the thought of you being in there makes him feel like he should’ve cleaned up or something.

“Everything,” you pull the sweatshirt over your head and exit the bathroom. “Is that bad? I’ll stop if you want.”

“No, it's fine,” he says. “I wish we could hang out more.”

You nod and scoot into your fort.

“Winter break is soon, I’ll be able to see you more then.”

“Winter break?”

“It’s this three week vacation all kids get during the winter.” he explains and you nod.

“Well, goodnight El.” he says while walking to the stairs.

"Wait," you run up to him and he whips around to look at you. You gently wrap your arms around his neck. "Thank you for tonight. It was very fun."

He stands there for a moment, too shocked to move. But he quickly snaps back to reality and rests his arms around your waist.

"Yeah, uhm, no problem." he says, trying his hardest not to sound shaky.

Your cheek feels smooth against his neck. There's this foreign electricity racing through his veins and it just makes him want to hold you tighter against him.

You pull away (to his disappointment) and smile before walking back to your fort.

He watches you get comfortable before heading up the stairs. He knows he won't be getting any sleep tonight. ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

taglist: @shawkneecaps @enhypenengenebea

#enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #Jungwon fluff #enhypen angst #Jungwon angst #kpop fluff #kpop angst

109 notes · View notes

jadelynlace · 4 years ago

Text

Ink Drinker / Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader], Chapter 5

catch up here!

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.

pairing: Ivar x F!Reader

***content warning [PLEASE READ]: this chapter is quite gruesome, please read at your own risk. yes this is based off of a trauma call I actually went to, and yes I am sparing some of the sicker details because it truly was one of the worst calls I had ever walked in on. and yes, it actually happened this way and yes, this helps me heal from it. ok, that is all.

author’s note: I’m so sorry.

✎

A sinful noise comes from Ivar’s mouth in the exact moment you entered in through the threshold. Truthfully, the sound sent a shiver down your spine, worrisome as the twenty four hour shift ended and Ivar had chosen to go to your flat last night, not his own.

“Why are you in my house, Ivar?” You say to him, eyes scanning over his half naked body as it tangled throughout the sheets, biceps set to curling around the rather feminine color of your duvet.

“Good morning to you too,” Ivar says back with a yawn that croaks from his mouth as he pulls the covers back. “Come lay with me,” Your mind rolls ideas between your ears, behind your eyes as you calculate why Ivar willingly came to your empty place the night prior, when he knew you were working yourself to death on the back of a never ending ambulance.

“That didn’t answer my question, Ivar,” Your voices teases him as you walk about the small space, pulling pins from your collar. He goes silent after your statement, moving the blankets to cover his face out of a twinge of embarrassment, not sure how you would take to learning that he felt better here. Felt happier, even when you weren’t home it gave him that sense that he wasn’t alone. You peek your head back to make out the large mound under the duvet, Ivar rolling under it and flopping on to his stomach. Tossing the discarded blues into your hamper, the tags, keys, pins and your tactical belt are all put away neatly in their homes as you pull on a shirt that no longer has a real shape to it. Ivar’s eyes peel open when you creep the covers off of his face, the cold air rushing against his skin and you’re in his vision—not as blurry to his glasses-less eyes as you make way to snuggle into him.

“Don’t want to creep you out,” Ivar says to you lowly, voice hoarse like sandpaper, scratching in its new use and you only turn your head to give him a sideways look. “It makes me feel better to be here,” He finally admits, fingers busying themselves with the loose hem on your shirt as he still won’t look at you. “Makes me feel less alone even if you’re not here,” You want to sigh, you want to cup his cheeks and push them together like he’s a toddler who’s being too damn adorable for your undertaking, but you can’t. These are words that took him a while to finally speak, progress for what darkness seems to leech in his mind at all hours, and now only a sliver of light comes through because he’s telling you how he feels. The reasoning behind it all, the baring of his soul on the bedsheets and stark naked with his emotions.

“You can come here whenever you want Ivar, you know that.” You say back, eyes searching his and they close briefly, sighing in a moment of relief because you’re not throwing him out on to the street for his choice. “Anything that makes you feel better, you should do,” You tell him, a peck to the corner of his mouth as you settle against him. “As long as it’s legal,” You add quickly, picking your head up in haste to move your point across and Ivar only chuckles as you do.

“You know what makes me feel better?” Ivar whispers and he’s climbs over you, pressing a weight to rein over you and you giggle. Sluggish as he moves with his hair tickling your face and he’s finally made the leeway with his figure, bending his forearms to catch his weight.

“What makes you feel better?” You ask him, looking up at this man who is so hopelessly in love with you he doesn’t even care to hide it on his face.

“You make me feel better,” Ivar tells you and the words hardly escape before his lips are against yours. Languid and soft, relishing in how your nails scratch up his back, humming as they press along his skin like keys on a piano and he finally drops his weight. Laying over you as his lips find their place on your pulse point, grazing the skin like thousands of little needles and you let a breathless moan pass from your tongue. Ivar only hums in response as his mouth stays busy, splotching you and navigating the skin to make sure more of the dots will stay hidden when you put your blues back on. His forehead rests on the length of your collarbone, his hand moving around the mattress to find yours. “I’ve never been in love until I met you,” Ivar whispers against you skin, sinking the praise into your pores and it shatters your heart but repairs it just as quickly. Resting his cheek he finally looks up at you, dragging his fingertips down your nose and there’s a low light that’s dancing off of his features, paling his blue eyes as he gazes at you.

“I love you, too Ivar,” You say softly and you mean the sentence with every single fiber in your body. You’d say it until you were blue in the face if it helped to heal every demon in his mind. He smiles as you say it, like he still can’t believe his luck.

“Want you—but I know you’re tired,” He mumbles and his lips take back to the game against your skin and you know he doesn’t mean to try to turn you in his favor. But you tell him about the coffee you had—more than you should have had if you planned to sleep some of the day away and he’s moving back over you again. Worshipping you with each press of his lips, each roll of his hips as he grinds down against your spread legs. He’s not rushed with how he feels you, how he only kicks his pants off and pulls your bottoms off as you undress fully for him, his eyes just watching your skin as he kisses each knee cap and then he’s back over you. Mouth against yours as the tip of his cock brushes against your opening, how that small notion is already so heavenly and when he’s finally pushing into you, you’re holding back on to him. Letting him know you’re there as he moves slowly in the morning light. Heavy breathing and soft mews between the both of you while Ivar brings you to your peek with the rolls of his hips and his tongue on yours. And he falls with you, panting and coating your walls and humming in pure contentment because this is a sensation he never wants to forget, never lose, as long as he lives, sleeping the morning away tangled between you and the sheets.

It had rolled into another slow morning left with nothing other to do than mop the bay’s floors and terrorize Hvitserk with unruly sprays from the soap gun. Laughing as he flinched, all but made inhuman noises whenever your aim got closer to his pristine blues. You two had gone on coffee runs, stopping to grab lunch and snacking away with boots up on the benches as another unrealistic drama show flashes from the screen. It was a bright change for the days that you two had spent together, but the quietness was never welcomed completely without the slow thoughts of what was to come lingering behind it. A car into a semi-truck. Hvitserk tipped his head back and groaned so loudly he nearly fell backwards from his chair. At least you were just able to blaze through the streets of town with loud horns and bright sirens and command the authority to have everyone bow to your right of way.

It was warm, growing increasingly so in the last few hours and the sun hung well above the road. Scattered with the remains of scrap metal, tangled mess of a car and the comically unbent eighteen wheeler. The fire engine met you on the scene, already blinking with two police cars and in your maneuvering to park the rig close, you caught more of the vehicle wreck. A tangled mess of a black mustang and you could feel the blood drain from your face as your heart stopped.

“Hvitserk,” You whine and that snaps his attention from the back the rig as he’s pulling gloves for both of you. “Oh my god Hvitserk it’s Ivar,” You all but yell and he bolts from the back of the double doors to round the ambulance. And then he sees it. And you see it. Your partner takes off, no protective gear as a shield and you grab him, locking an arm to pull him back as a look of panic crosses him like a field. “Focus,” You hiss at him. “Do your job and fucking focus—you’re the best medic on the god damn team and you need to prove that right now,” But you could say the speech until you’re blue in the face, gasping as the words fall with no meaning because Hvitserk is out of control for the first time ever on a call.

“He’s awake in there,” A voice calls from the other side of the car.

“Get the trauma bag.” You call to your partner and then you take off, steel toes rounding the car and there’s no door to open anymore. Just a blown out rear view window that’s already been cut by those jaws. You see Ivar blink and your mind shuts off completely.

“Hey baby,” His voice rasps when he sees you in his sight, picking his head up while the crushed front end of the car covers his legs like a blanket. Your heart is stabbed with a knife and you can’t worry about that right now, you can’t worry about how you feel because your uniform is telling you that you’re the only hope for the man you so deeply love.

“Ivar keep your head down please, I need you to stay as still as possible.” You tell him and Hvitserk makes his way behind you.

“We need the take this side off!” Hvitserk’s voice calls to the fire department. The noise of his voice floats behind you and he pulls another fire fighter to aid him in the collection of equipment he’s sending to you.

“What’s that?” Ivar asks you and you’re reaching behind you for the c-collar.

“This keeps your neck straight, Ivar, it’s very important that you don’t move. How else are you feeling?”

“My legs feel funny,” Ivar mumbles to you as you lock the device around his neck. At his words you peek down for the first time and your stomach rolls. Churning like a great open sea as you see the mess that is before the two of you. There is no clear cut determining factor of where his legs start and the car ends.

“Ivar can you feel my hand right here?” You ask him as you have it on his thigh.

“I like it when you touch me there baby,” Ivar slurs and it’s a twist of his words drooling from his mouth as he’s trying to stay awake. Even as his body shuts down. Even with the same bastard smirk. You back out slowly and Hvitserk replaces your spot as quickly as he’ll allow; tunneled vision as he asses Ivar’s closest vein and through a shake in his fingers, hooks him up to a line. “What are you doing brother?” He asks and his voice is smaller now, like a child and Hvitserk only sadly smiles.

“This is pain medicine Ivar, so we can get you out of the car. You’re going to get really tired and I don’t want you to fight it, alright? I’ll see you when you wake up.” Are the last words Ivar registers and his world becomes dark.

The hiss of the saw catches your attention as you watch the sparks sizzle on the heated asphalt. Linens down on the stretcher and reflective gear covering you but your body is so cold, chilled and down right hypothermic as the car groans lowly once it is peeled apart. Like bark from a tree as it curls into scrap metal and Hvitserk cranks two tourniquets on each of Ivar’s legs.

“Helicopter?” You call to him and he shakes his head.

“It’ll be faster if you drive him down to the trauma center. They won’t fly—it’s too cloudy today,” He calls back and you can’t help but think of the ever going joke about how the pilots don’t fly, even with only one cloud in the whole sky. There’s yelling, screams, the buzz of machines and too much noise but Ivar is still asleep, and you find comfort in the fact that he’s not seeing what you are. Your reflective vest catches the sunlight and it bounces into your face, mixes with your tear filled eyes and you wipe them along your sleeve to smear mascara and sweat. As soon as the command comes from around you that it’s safe, the car is stable and you can reach your patient, you waste no time.

It takes you, Hvitserk and two of the largest firemen on the team to pull Ivar from the wreck. Hooking around his arms and you can still smell his cologne over the burnt rubber that takes up home in your nostrils. His legs are crushed, obliterated and shattered and you’re queasy for the first time ever on a call. They drag behind him like dead limbs as he’s sliding up the back board. Hvitserk tears what was left of his jeans in adrenaline as he tries to wrap what he can to stay sterile but the injuries are far too extreme for you two alone to treat. The mess of mangled flesh and your heart breaks even farther as you see the art work on his skin now a waste because you know how Ivar loves his tattoos. They’re smashed and bent and somehow still there and if it were any other call there would be pictures being taken and you would be exchanging glances with your partner. Treating the rest of what he can and Hvitserk pales, because you both know Ivar may never walk again.

From above his belt, Ivar looks normal—he looks like the man you saw this morning—your Ivar. Obvious contusions from the seat belt and the airbag, torn shirt cut right up the middle as you attach the stickers to his chest. The Like Pak squeezes an already bulged bicep for his blood pressure and it’s dropping quickly. The non-rebreather mask’s reservoir fills with oxygen and you watch the plastic palpate, the fingers in his left hand twitch like they do when he’s asleep. It feels like a nightmare, loud noises and beating sun with clouds that pass and every time shade greats you, you find another injury on his body. The motions come so simply because your mind has gone, sucked out the window and on a vacation because you need to focus on what you’re doing, now more than ever.

Protruding tibia bones look back at you, knee caps that are now mere powder mock you. You see his bones, you see his muscles, you see every inner part of both of his legs stabbed with shrapnel and the glass, raw and cherry colored, and you think you’re going to pass out as you pull the gurney to the machine that grabs it, sucking into the back of the ambulance. Hvitserk jumps back there you slam the doors so quickly, trying to shut that world out to focus on this one. And then you pull the ambulance around and gun it, sandwiching the peddle between your blood covered boot and the ambulance’s floor. Even over the sirens, the blare of the horn you can hear your partner praying. Praying to a God he doesn’t believe in for his brother to live through this as the monitor sings a tune that Ivar is crashing.

“Come on brother—don’t do this to me,” He curses and pulls another vile, cranks the oxygen flow and sends more fluid into his body. “Don’t do this to me Ivar. Not today. Not today, Ivar,” And the tears finally start again in your eyes as you curse the vehicle for not going any faster. For its limit of one hundred and twenty miles per hour on the open lane of the freeway because cars have spread. They’ve parted as this creature screams for them to obey and you see the cop cars ahead of you, trying to pave the way and then the flight car. Your section chief right on your front bumper and you know he can tell its you driving the ambulance. You’re the fastest driver he’s ever employed and now is the time to remember that—and your job as you all carry Ivar’s body from this battle, into a much worse one.

Ink Drinker Tags:

@smileysam13579 @dreamtherapy @heisentwerk @angelofthenightposts @ill-skillsgard @youaremyfamiliar @unbetaedimagines @kathryn-jane @readsalot73 @skrsgardspam @lihikainanea @queen-sarang @anastasiaskarsgard @andmyannabellee @walkxthexmoon @flowers-in-your-hayr @peachyboneless @heavenly1927 @istorkyou @victoria-styles @quantumlocked310 @xbellaxcarolinax @mighty-ragnarssons @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @queen-of-upshur @nanahachikyuu @fandomlifeandeverythingelse @ivarhoegh @a5hl3y5ibley @apenas-mais-uma-pessoa @youbloodymadgenius @love-all-things-writing @theanxietyqueen17 @trip2themoon @tgrrose @synnersaint

*please message me to let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list. specifications for series/etc. are also welcomed, as well as feedback.*

full masterlist can be found here.

124 notes · View notes

wallwriterstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Guilty Souls ||Demetri Volturi x Female reader||

Warnings: Descriptions of fear and guilt but nothing particularly noteworthy.

Words: 4257

Taglist: @thelastemzy @a-avaunce @college-is-coming @alecvolturiswifeforever @broskibowser @volturidoll13 @raindancer2004

Summary: A request for @kpopgirlbtssvt

Demetri just wanted to feed. His food fighting back was never a problem before, and this is the first time he's ever lost that fight.

“We can meet back at the jet once dinner is done.”

“I shall see you there.” Demetri agreed. Felix was gone in an instant, eyes near black and his grin slightly feral. The tracker shook his head, unable to fight his amusement – he was glad he wasn’t a human on the streets tonight. Truthfully, he was tired. The mission was never going to be easy to start with, not with a psychopathic nomad attempting to become the UK’s next biggest serial killer. The murders had been brutal and attracted far too much attention, but she covered her tracks well and with no one left alive to steal the tenor from it had taken some old school tracking, some (falsified) detective work, and a little bit of luck for them to even begin to track down their killer. Now she was ash on the wind the lack of time to rest was really starting to show for the both of them.

Demetri could feel the burn much more prominently now that he had nothing else to focus on, like a ball of thorns rolling up and down his throat with every swallow. With a grimace, he turned his nose to the sky and closed his eyes. Felix was clearly in a good mood after the kill, eager to enjoy the hunt, but Demetri just wanted something within quick reach. Stretching his senses, he scoured the area, the sounds and smells of a city at night hitting him full force. He could hear traffic rumbling along the road, late night television and music pouring from apartments, people making war and making love and the faint shutting of doors as places closed up for the night. The air smelled crisper and somewhat damp, indicating rain was on the way, and the foul scent of pollution clogged his nostrils momentarily until he forced his mind to work through it and smell what lingered beneath. Tulips in bloom in the city gardens, greasy food from the chip shop across the road and…oh.

Demetri’s head turned swiftly, eyes snapping open and feet already moving in the direction of something truly mouth-watering. It made his throat burn fiercely, venom pooling in his mouth. It took him little time to find the source of the smell two streets over, moving swiftly away from him down the pavement with her backpack slung over one shoulder, the bag strap held in both hands. She seemed to glance about as she walked, the smell of old pages clinging to her. It failed to smother her mouth-watering scent, and Demetri was more than sure he had found himself quite the delicacy for the evening. There was something incredibly addictive about her scent, something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on but wanted to drown in. He would have played with her if he wasn’t so damn thirsty, tainted that delicious smell with adrenaline and fear for the twang it would give her blood, but the raging fire in his throat needed soothing.

Given the goings on he shouldn’t have been surprised that she sensed him behind her. He was tailing her at a very normal, human pace so as not to arouse suspicion from the many windows she passed. The woman was smart enough to stay in public view, but it would be no match for Demetri’s speed once he saw an opening, and there was just the opening he needed coming up. The moment she neared the mouth of the alleyway he moved, his speed propelling him so fast no one would see him as any more than a blur – and that was if they really looked. His grip on her shoulder was tight and he hauled her with him with ease, spinning her straight into the brick and clamping a hand over her mouth before she could scream. It didn’t stop her from trying, the muffled noise vibrating against his hand as wide eyes rapidly grew wet, spilling tears against his palm. Demetri inhaled deeply, baring his teeth as the thirst grew to unbearable levels, but he couldn’t look away from those eyes.

Shimmering Y/E/C stared at him with so much terror, his reflection in her tears absolutely monstrous. She shook like a leaf in a violent wind, struggling frantically against him in an effort to get away. He pressed close with a snarl, desperate to ease the ache in his throat, but even when he moved his mouth closer to the throbbing pulse in her throat he couldn’t bring himself to bite down. His grip on her jaw tightened ever so slightly, his frustrated growl echoing off of the brick he had pushed her against. Her quiet whimper made him pull back.

“Stop struggling!” he hissed. She was trying to shake her head, still pushing futilely at his chest. He had to admire the fight in her and the way she fit so perfectly against him would have been sinfully delicious in any other circumstance, but not while she was looking at him like that. Those wide eyes were terrified, so incredibly frightened of him, and it made his stomach churn. He just wanted to feed dammit! Why was she making this so hard! Her heart was pounding in his ears, her blood roaring and racing beneath the surface of her skin, so why couldn’t he just indulge in it?

“Hel-“ his hand had slipped without him realising and he quickly covered her mouth back up as he tried to fight with himself. The frenzy was lapping at the back of his mind, clouding his senses and his thoughts, but the last vestiges of his sanity were clinging to her desperate attempts to preserve her life. He studied her facial features, trying to spot anything familiar. Maybe he was struggling because she looked like someone he knew? There was nothing there he recognised. Her hands must have been sore by now, his skin was literally crystallised for petes sake, yet still she didn’t let up the barrage of slaps and punches to his chest she had been delivering since he had attacked her. With a growl he brought his mouth to her throat once more, his teeth hovering right over the vein he needed to break.

One bite, just one little bite and she is all mine, I just have to bring my teeth together he thought.

Her muffled screaming picked up again, her body trembling so hard against his own his entire frame was starting to vibrate. With a groan, he flopped forward and hit his head a few times off of the brick behind her. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t feed from her. He so badly wanted to, but he couldn’t. She stilled suddenly, his low moaning seemingly startling her. For a moment, all he could hear was her shaky, rapid breathing and the pounding of her heart, his own pained filled moans and the quiet sobs he was muffling still with his hand. She never stopped trembling and Demetri couldn’t stand it. He wrapped both arms around her tight, hoping to restrict her movements.

“Stop it, stop it stop moving…please stop moving.” He begged. He was slowly losing his sanity it seemed but all he could do was watch like an out of body experience was taking place, his mind spinning and falling away from him before it surged forward and all he could acknowledge was her fear and his hatred of it. She whimpered in his ear, her neck stretched so her chin rested on his shoulder awkwardly, but even the prominent way the vein stood against the thin skin of her throat couldn’t tempt him. Her scent had soured, no longer sweet and inviting but filled with the bitter twang of fear. Usually he would enjoy it. He could still feel the predator in the back of his mind howling in delight, but he couldn’t let the monster loose.

“P-please, please let me go, l-let me go please, please.” She chanted in his ear like a siren calling him to his doom, and like she had brainwashed him with four simple words he did exactly as asked. She looked shell-shocked he had relinquished her from his grip, and he could only imagine the bruises that were going to blemish on her skin from where he had touched her – another pang of self-loathing hit him. How could he have hurt her so badly? She was beautiful, even in the darkness of the alleyway with her face covered in tears, tracking mascara down her cheeks, he could see the beauty in every feature. How could he hurt a face so angelic?

“Go.” He ground out. There was absolutely no sense in him letting her go, but he was thirsty by now he didn’t want to risk anything happening to her. As muddled as his mind would that was the only clear thing that stood out to him. Demetri wasn’t sure he understood any of what was transpiring, but after another sharp order to move she was gone, leaving her backpack behind and fleeing the alleyway as he crunched a fist into the wall.

“You alright mate?” it was a man’s voice from the opposite end of the alleyway. He didn’t have her kind of sweetness, but it would do. The tracker pulled his fist out of the brick, the rubble falling to his feet and dust coating his jacket sleeve.

“No.” he said, because truthfully he wasn’t. He never let his prey escape, not once, not even on accident. Feeding was instinctual and natural, something every vampire learned to do from their very first day, so how on Earth after 2000 years of this life had failed at it so badly tonight? Footsteps alerted him to the oncoming man, and the thumping of his heart was enough to send Demetri reeling. His lips curled back over his teeth, thirst flaring once more and the frenzy rapidly flooding his mind.

“Here mate, why don’t we-“ Demetri’s teeth in his windpipe cut him off. They tore viciously through the flesh and muscle, a burst of hot, sweet blood gushing down his throat and soothing the inferno that was raging there. It wouldn’t be enough on its own but for the few moments Demetri let his mind go elsewhere, let his instincts finally take over. This was natural. This was normal. So why the hell hadn’t he been able to do it earlier? Only when his veins were dry did Demetri drop him to the ground with a relieved sigh. With the burn minimised it was easier to think, and the more he thought the more he realised what a mistake he’d made. That woman could easily run to the police and give an accurate description of his face, his clothing. He grimaced. He’d been absolutely foolish, letting her go like that.

Her backpack remained near his feet and he rifled through the contents briefly, looking for anything that might give him any indication as to what was so special about her, where he might start looking for her. There was a work badge stating her name and the logo of a bookstore he had passed while tailing her, and a quick rummage through her wallet gave him a full driver’s license and some debit cards with her signature on the back.

Y/N L/N.

He had been so caught up in the frenzy lapping at his mind he couldn’t honestly say which tenor in his repertoire was her’s, so he was going to have to track the old fashioned way. Inhaling, he winced at the irritating scratchiness in his throat when he caught her scent. He’d need to hunt again on the way but nobody would miss the drunk old man stumbling home from the corner pub would they? He didn’t think so anyway, and nobody would find him anytime soon given the lucky proximity of a wheelie bin. She must have ran part of the way, crossing more ground than he thought she could, but he did inevitably catch up. She was still snivelling, shaking with her arms wrapped around her as she stumbled along. Demetri felt his gut twist again at the noise. She was still so afraid…

“Miss L/N.” he called.

He should have guessed she’d scream.

“Someone-“ he zipped forward and quickly covered her mouth again, his expression pained. The guilt that ate him alive was less frustrating and more exasperating now. He would give anything to stop feeling this way. Heaven forbid he was turning into a self-righteous Cullen – Felix would never forgive him.

“Please do not scream, please, I just – your backpack, I needed to return your things.” He groaned. She stopped screaming abruptly, and Demetri held her backpack up between them. Her eyes snapped up to his, and with his mind clearer now it suddenly felt so obvious to him what had stopped him feeding on her before. Something in his abdomen snapped, his breath escaping him in a sharp exhale. Left dumbstruck, his hand dropped from her mouth and he was left gawping at her like a fish out of water. Her scent enveloped him not to taunt his thirst, but to comfort him like a warm hug, his mind halting dead in its tracks to clear all messy thoughts from his head like the clouds breaking to finally reveal the sun.

Mate.

She was his mate.

And she had just kneed him in the balls.

He crumpled like a puppet with the strings cut, grunting in pain while venom stung his eyes – even vampires were not immune to this particular trick. His groin aching horribly, he struggled to force himself to stand as she sprinted flat out away from him, her backpack in hand and ready to swing. Demetri tried to push to his knees and collapsed twice more before he finally found his footing again, swearing under his breath.

“Hey, hey!” She was frantically waving towards a passing cab. He groaned, stumbling forward a few steps until the pain receded enough for him to run after her. Demetri reminded himself to be gentle with her as he tugged her to his side.

“Please, if I let you go now far worse people than me will come for you and I cannot have you hurt by them. Tell him I have booked us an uber, his help is unnecessary.” He urged. She tried to pull her wrist back, her eyes welling with tears again. This was too public a place for this and the way her backpack swung in an arc towards his face was far too suspicious. She would hardly attack a friend or a lover after all.

“Just let me go, no one has to know, I won’t tell I swear.” She pleaded.

“I cannot, they will know, they always know! Please tesoro, do not make this harder, I am trying to keep you safe now and no more innocent lives need be implicated in this.” Demetri insisted, his eyes flickering to the cab driver as he started to pull up. Y/N tried to twist away again with a whimper so he did the only thing he could think to do. He had to cut through the fear, make her feel the same pull he did, even if her human heart felt it to a lesser degree. She squeaked in surprise when his arm curled around her waist to haul her in close, but even if her mind screamed no she melted into his embrace when his lips moulded to hers, her instincts overriding all common sense because he was her mate and with him, she was safe. His embrace was soothing and sweet, his body created solely for the purpose of protecting hers, and the way his mouth slanted across her own was something she couldn’t refuse.

The way they fit together was undeniable, the chemistry behind the simple movement of his lips, so chaste and so respectful with just the right hint of tongue when he was sure he had her following his lead was sublime in ways it had no right to be. It shouldn’t have felt so right to kiss a stranger, especially not a kiss that had been forced upon her, but she couldn’t honestly that, if asked if she’d like another just like it, she would refuse him.

“Miss? Did you need a ride miss?” the driver was leaning across the passenger seat now, the window rolled down. Demetri pulled back to stare at her, tenderly caressing her cheek.

“Say no.” he coaxed.

She swallowed thickly. “No.”

“Are you sure?” the driver asked, his suspicion aroused. Demetri kept his eyes locked on hers, his mouth pressed together in the hopes she would say the right thing. He didn’t want to manipulate her again. Y/N had yet to blink, still mesmerised by his vibrantly red eyes and the soul-shocking feeling of his lips he guessed. He had felt it to, his whole body coming alive for what felt like the first time in all the millennia he’d been alive. The sweet ecstasy in his veins had replaced any thoughts of the thirst he was still minorly enduring and he wanted nothing more than to satiate his every need in her. Demetri wasn’t foolish enough to think she would so much as let him look at her for some time yet.

“Y-yes, sorry, we’ve got an uber coming.” She stammered, blinking herself out of the daze. Grumbling under his breath, the driver pulled away again, and Demetri only let her go when he was far enough out of sight it wouldn’t be a bother anymore if she decided to assault him again.

“Good, you did well. You have to-“ she cut him off with a sharp slap to the face, one that left minimal impact on him but made her cry out and cradle her hand close.

“Don’t you ever, kiss me without my permission again! Just who are you!” she demanded. Demetri frowned slightly. How was he supposed to tell her? If she knew anything about him, even his name, she would become a target the minute Aro read his thoughts. Hell, she was already a target. She’d seen him, been attacked by him. The shame that bloomed in his gut was almost too much to bear and he tensed under her angry glare. He hadn’t done this right at all and Demetri knew he would have a lot to make up for in the centuries to come if she accepted him. Right now…right now he had no choice but to make the situation worse.

“I need you to believe that I truly am sorry,” he said earnestly, “That this was not the way I wished to meet you, that I truly wish you no harm, but understand that I have no choice. I am bound by laws you have to yet understand and the consequences for breaking them are severe. You must come with me now - please do not fuss! I will make your comfort my utmost priority but I cannot leave you here for either of our sakes.” He reached for her hand but she snatched it back, face pale as she took a step away from him. Demetri felt his heart shatter. The physical rejection stung even if she had no clue what she had done.

“I’m not going anywhere with you you nutjob!” she snapped.

“We have no choice. Please do not make me force you.” Demetri pleaded. He didn’t want to lay a hand on his mate but the choices before them were simple. Either Y/N came with him now and travelled in comfort to Volterra with them, or someone else would be sent to fetch her before she could cause any damage to the Volturi, and they would be far less gentle.

“Force me? You’re off your meds, you – you have to be crazy to think I’d go anywhere with you!” she took another step back, and Demetri took one forward. His expression was nothing but sorrowful, the anguish obvious on his face. He really didn’t want to force her to do anything, but she really wasn’t making his life any easier. Granted, he had forced them both into this situation but surely the mate pull should have been enough for her to trust him at least a little? The fact she was to overwhelmed by her fear of him to feel it was heart-breaking. That she had already rejected him because she would rather fear him then know him…

“Please, please Y/N.” he whispered, extending a hand to her. She shook her head, ready to take off running again, and Demetri closed the gap between them with ease. His arm curled around her throat, his lips moving to her temple. She was so fragile and it took a lot of concentration he honestly didn’t have to cut off enough oxygen that she would pass out.

“Stop -ah!” she cried out, squirming in his grip. Demetri winced.

“I had no desire to hurt you. I am so sorry.” He whispered, voice wavering slightly. As she slumped in his grip he buried his nose in her hair, closing his eyes. He didn’t need to be a genius to know he had probably ruined everything with her before it had even began, but what could he do? He had no other viable option to him available, or he would have taken it in a heartbeat. He couldn’t stand the disapproving look on Felix’s face when he walked onto the jet with an unconscious woman in his arms.

“If you think I am listening to you play with your food all the way home-“

“She is not my food! She happens to be my mate, though I am sure when she wakes up she would much rather throw herself out of this jet than come anywhere near me.” He snapped. Felix remained oddly silent after his outburst, and with a heavy heart Demetri made sure she was settled in one of the plush leather chairs, her backpack within arms reach and a belt secure around her waist for the take off. Once he was sure she was safe in her seat he slammed the door shut and locked himself in the bathroom, desperate to clear his head of her dizzying scent and bring some clarity to the negative thoughts swarming him. Felix watched him go in mild astonishment. The tracker was usually the cool, calm, collected one of the group. He had never seen his old friend this upset before.

Demetri didn’t remerge from the bathroom by the time she woke up either, stirring slowly and scrunching her nose and eyes when the light hit her full force. Her eyes wandered right over him, not really registering the giant’s presence the first time around. Felix tilted his head when her head snapped back in his direction, her heart picking up in her chest and grip on the armrests tightening.

“I – wh-where are we? You, your eyes…” she breathed.

“I’m a vampire.” Felix told her bluntly. A snort escaped her before her hand slapped over her mouth. She had to take a minute to study him, see if he was lying.

“Your as crazy as your friend. Oh god…oh god where it the demented bastard?” she whispered, curling her knees up as tears welled in her eyes, “What’s h-he going to do to me?” Felix couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Would you like the short or the long version?” he asked.

She gulped. “Sh-short?”

“He’s going to turn you into one of us as the law demands and love you like no other man ever could for the rest of eternity.” Felix shrugged. It was amusing to him, how her jaw dropped open. She couldn’t hear the way Demetri growled at him to shut up from the bathroom. Her hands immediately scrabbled for the belt at her waist and his eyebrows rose.

“You’re all crazy!” she snapped.

“Where do you plan on going? It’s a long way down, little human.” He chuckled.

“The bathroom! Away from the crazy!” she cried. Felix’s laughter echoed about the jet.

“There’s a crazy man in the bathroom to.” he promised. Demetri appeared in a flash, his expression furious.

“Could you at least attempt to be courteous? She is terrified enough.” He hissed. The giant leaned back in his seat, looking thoroughly amused at the way she immediately swung her backpack into his face. “And will you stop hitting me with that bag!” he cried exasperatedly.

“You kidnapped me you freak!” she yelled.

“I did what I had to to save your life!”

“You were the one who put my life in danger! You – you –“

“Now now children play nicely.” Felix drawled. They both shot him frustrated looks, and he couldn’t hide his grin when he realised just how similar they appeared. He had no doubt that this rocky start was going to haunt Demetri for a while yet, if only because his mate seemed quite unwilling to let it go, and yet... Felix watched them argue with keen eyes, the pair going back and forth as Demetri quite honestly told her his motivation for the attack and subsequent kidnapping. Occasionally he would chime in with something witty only to be told to shut up, but it was quite obvious to him what neither of them seemed to notice what he did. With every angry word they seemed to smash through a barrier, the pair gravitating towards each other like magnets.

He doubted they’d last a week apart.

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #volturi #demetri volturi #x female reader #demetri volturi x female reader #felix volturi #is living for the entertainment he's getting #poor demetri

238 notes · View notes

ficklefics · 4 years ago

Text

Burden To Keep - Zemo x Reader ~ Chapter One: Saviour

Five years ago you were kidnapped by a mysterious group lead by a man only known as Critical. Five years of experiments. Five years of torture. And then in a blink of an eye, you're free. Three men, your saviours, asking you one question: where is the serum? But it could never be that easy. You join them as politics and terrorism throw you across the world, the hunters and the hunted. And through it all, there's him.

(starts towards the end of ep. 3, between Madripoor and Riga. will deviate from canon to an extent, but will likely follow the plot of the show loosely. planning for this to be a short series!)

SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

The unlikely trio of allies made their way through the compound, dead-set on their purpose. Zemo had informed Bucky and Sam about a supply of super-soldier serum, purchased from the Power Broker six months ago, being kept in this facility. They were on their way to Riga when the information came through, and a quick pit-stop wasn’t an issue if it meant possibly getting evidence that could help them.

For being owned by a client of the Power Broker, the place was poorly defended. Sam came in by the air and drew their fire long enough for Bucky and Zemo to get past the outer wall. Reuniting in the courtyard, they took out the remaining guards and shut down the emergency siren.

Now they followed the path their intel had provided through the strangely unprotected building. They came across a few men with tactical gear and weaponry but dispatched them with ease. Posts seemed abandoned as they got closer to what was marked as a storeroom on their map.

“A lot of security for a storeroom,” Sam had commented when Red Wing brought back the scans. “That’s where it will be,” Zemo assured.

A long corridor marked the final stretch. The security cameras lining it were all thankfully deactivated as Zemo lead the way.

Rounding the final corner there was a lone guard in front of a solid door. Seemingly distracted by his radio, he didn’t notice anything wrong until Bucky’s metal arm was throwing him against the wall, knocking him out cold immediately.

On closer inspection, there was a slat at waist height in the door, and a glass window layered with metal and covered from the inside. With a wrench, Bucky broke the handle, forcing his way into the room.

What they found was not a store. There were no shelves or crates. No serum.

What they did find was a makeshift bedroom. In the corner stood a woman, a bloody shard of glass held in their direction.

The tray of food sliding into the delivery box set into the wall woke you from sleep that morning. The breakfast was the same as it had been every day for the past five years: two slices of buttered toast, a glass of orange juice, and a dish of assorted pills. You downed those first, barely feeling them pass through your throat as the orange juice followed. The toast disappeared quickly – they would get pissed if the tray wasn’t back within ten minutes.

“Another day in paradise.” You sighed to yourself, resting back onto the bed.

A few hours later, the sound of movement outside drew your attention. Drawing the window cover up slightly, you peered out at the guards talking in hushed German. Avengers … fucked … serum … Over your time here you had managed to pick up a surprising amount of the language. One guard left, leaving the other to stand guard at the door to your room.

The Avengers. You may not have followed them closely, but it was impossible to live in the West and not know who the superheroes were. But five years after they had failed, five years after half the world turned to dust, you had no idea what to expect. It’s better than this. That much was true. If they really were Avengers, maybe they were here to rescue you.

You paced your room, unable to hear anything else other than the occasional crackle of the guard's radio. Not knowing what was happening was like having a worm under your skin. Periodically you would check the window, hoping to see something, anything other than the guard.

That didn’t take long. You were peering out just as the group rounded the corner. Suddenly, panic filled you. These men weren’t Avengers. At least not the ones you knew. And if they weren’t Avengers…

You hurried back, almost stumbling on your feet, and grabbed the water glass from the desk just to smash it against the wall. The biggest shard sliced into your skin but you barely felt the pain. Backed into a corner, terrified, you listened as they knocked out the guard and broke the handle.

This was it.

The first man into the room was tall, with dark hair. What was most notable about him though, was the arm made of black and gold metal. He stopped at the sight of you, clearly confused. Behind him stood a slightly shorter man wearing goggles and some kind of armour. They both seemed familiar somehow, but you couldn’t put a name to the faces.

“What the hell is this?” The first man muttered as the other lifted his goggles, revealing warm eyes that narrowed at you. A quiet cough sounded behind them and they moved further into the room to let a third man step in behind them. He was shorter again, but only a little. He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Ah.”

“Who are you?” You brandished the makeshift weapon. You didn’t know these men. You didn’t know if you’d be able to take all three of them. But you weren’t going down without a fight. “Why are you here?”

“Sam Wilson.” The second man stretched out a hand, seemingly trying to calm you. “I’m an Avenger.” That’s how you knew him. The Falcon. You vaguely remembered seeing him in the back of photos, never quite taking centre stage. “That answers the first question.” “We’re looking for a serum that’s supposed to be stored here.” You turned towards the man with the metal arm. “The serum…” You’re mind immediately flickered back six months.

There were only six of you left in the dorm. The prison cell you called home. Weak from exhaustion, the countless tests, the years of suffering, it was easy for them to drag you out one by one. To strap you down to a table and inject burning liquid into your veins. You screamed through the gag as your body was set alight.

“Do you know where it is?” “It’s… it’s gone. I…” Could you really tell them where it was? You didn’t know their intentions. They might kill you. It seemed to register that you were afraid, that you weren’t a threat. The men exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them.

“Okay. Look, my name’s Bucky. What’s yours?” He took a step forward, not so much to threaten but to test how you would respond. Your shaking hand lowered, but you didn’t drop the glass. “(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/LN).” “What do you mean gone? Where did they move it?” “Why should I trust you?” “Look, you’re a prisoner here, right?” Sam spoke up. You nodded. “We can help. We’ve got a jet, can take you anywhere you need to go.” “But only if I help you.” “She could be bluffing. We should leave.” The man in the back said this, shifting on his feet and glancing back over his shoulder. “Shut up Zemo.” The other two snapped in unison.

You couldn’t risk being left here. No matter who these men were, they were far better than those who held you prisoner. “I’m not bluffing. The serum is gone. I’ll tell you more, but your friend is right. We need to go.” The man in question, Zemo, was examining you even more closely now. His stare sent chills through your body. It was as if he was inside your mind, pulling it apart, exposing your secrets. “He’s not our friend,” Sam interjected. “Come on.” He stretched his arm out once more, gesturing for you to join them, and you dropped the glass, skirting around the bed. “We’re getting you out of here.”

You followed without question as they lead you through the building. Despite spending so long here, you had never seen more than brief glimpses of the endless corridors. Out through a hangar, the sunlight blinded you. Five years without the sun. No time to take it in. The four of you exited through the main gate – there was no one left to stop you.

A mile or so out a truck sat waiting. It had been hastily covered in branches, which Sam and Bucky pulled away quickly while Zemo stood at your side. You could feel his eyes watching you.

Once it was clear, Sam sat in the driver’s seat and Bucky stepped gracefully into the truck bed which had benches on either side. A hand on your upper back ushered you forward and you obeyed, taking Bucky’s outstretched hand and letting him help you up. You sat beside him as Zemo joined you. He sat opposite, hands on his knees and gazing past you. The engine started with a rumble and Sam took the vehicle back onto the road. You travelled in silence, the only sound the turn of the tires on the gravel and Bucky’s occasional sighs. You kept your eyes fixed on your hands which fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. This didn’t feel real. What if it was all a dream, or, even worse, a trick? A simulation to see what you’d do, and any moment now your rescuers would reveal themselves and send you back to an even worse hell.

Bucky seemed to catch onto your anxiety, resting his warm hand on your shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. It helped a little.

Soon enough you were arriving at an airport where a plane sat waiting. You followed the men up the stairs, Zemo and Bucky in front and Sam behind you. What you found was nothing like what you were expecting.

You had imagined a military operation, crates and weaponry, nets against the wall, functionality over everything else.

Instead, you had been shown into a luxurious jet. Spacious, with leather seats and dark wooden tables, a plush carpeted floor against your bare feet.

“Wow.” You couldn’t stop yourself from gasping. “Danke,” Zemo smirked at your reaction. “I am rather proud of it.” “This is yours?” He nodded. You chuckled, almost in disbelief. This was it. You were actually free. Once you were in the air they would never be able to touch you again. “Take a seat, (Y/N).” Sam gestured towards the chairs. “It’ll be a few hours before we get to Riga.” You’d never heard of the place, but it didn’t matter. It was far away from here.

Settling into a seat towards the back of the plane, away from the three men who sat together, you closed your eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

Free.

CHAPTER TWO

#zemo x reader #zemo/reader #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #helmut zemo #bucky barnes #sam wilson #mcu #tfatws x reader #tfatws/reader #falcon #power broker

103 notes · View notes

rafael-silva · 3 years ago

Text

in only a moment’s time: a tarlos fic

Carlos looks over his shoulder and connects some dots in his head. “There’s a flower shop two or three blocks down,” he recalls. “We can save time if I go pick up the ones we want for my mom while you finish here,” he suggests. “Or whoever finishes first can meet up with the other.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” TK agrees and then returns the soft kiss Carlos brushes against his lips.

It was supposed to be a quick in and out at the florist before going to Andrea and Gabriel’s, but Carlos and TK’s day is quickly turned upside down and their plans ruined by a police chase gone wrong.

for bad things happen bingo: tarlos + ambulance ride

major character injury, hurt carlos reyes, worried tk strand, off duty injury, whump, angst, nonlinear narrative, gun violence, hopeful ending

3.7k | rated T | on ao3

thank you to jamie @firefighterreyes for reading through this and giving me feedback! and the title from I knew this would be love by imaginary future

*****

“You’re okay, Carlos. Stay with me, babe, stay with me,” TK pleads, ignoring how his voice breaks and instead tightens his hold on Carlos’s slack hand.

His bloody slack hand. And TK’s hand is covered in blood, too. It’s covered in Carlos’s blood. TK’s stomach churns and twists in an unnatural way when his eyes move from Carlos’s ashen face and land on the amount of blood coating their joint hands, staining their matching silver bands.

There’s so much blood. Carlos is losing so much blood.

But he doesn’t have much time to think about it because in the next moment, his head is quickly snapping up at the paramedic’s urgent voice. TK watches with horror as Carlos’s vitals drop dangerously and his own heart sinks into his knees.

The ambulance starts to move, the sirens wailing in its wake as they speed towards the hospital. TK watches the paramedic work frantically from the corner of his eye, work to stabilize Carlos but TK can’t really spare him a full glance, his attention solely focused on Carlos.

The officer’s skin is pale and clammy, beads of sweat collecting on his forehead and his breaths coming short and quick, fogging up the oxygen mask covering most of his face. Tears build in TK’s eyes, terrified he’s about to lose Carlos.

He feels helpless, he feels that Carlos is slipping right through his fingers and—

No. He can’t lose Carlos. He can’t.

TK can’t help but wonder if there were anything he could have done differently, if anything could have changed this outcome. If anything done differently could have made it so that Carlos wasn’t currently lying on a gurney, barely stable.

TK can’t control his mind when it takes him back in time. When it takes him just thirty minutes back in time, when he and Carlos were walking side by side, holding hands and laughing, the silver spark TK loves glittering in his fiancé’s eyes. And now Carlos is fighting for his life, now TK can’t see that spark and it feels like his own light is slowly fading away…

*****

“We have space in the fridge, right?” Carlos asks, he and TK stopping to stand in line to use the ATM.

TK thinks back for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.”

“Good, because you know mom will be packing up some food for us to take home with us,” Carlos chuckles. “I think she automatically adds portions for us while she makes lunch.”

TK nods, a smile spreading on his face. “Her food is amazing.”

“It is,” Carlos agrees. “And the food she packs for us lasts a while, makes me think I could stop cooking and we can just have her food.”

“Carlos Reyes, that implication wounds me, don’t you dare stop cooking,” TK gasps, playfully hitting Carlos’s shoulder. “As much as I love your mom’s food, and trust me, I do love your mom’s food, your cooking has a special place in my heart.”

Carlos chuckles again, lifting their connected hands to brush a kiss to TK’s knuckles. “Well, in that case…”

TK’s smile widens, brilliant and bright. “I am excited to have lunch with your parents, it’s been a while.”

It was deemed near impossible for Carlos and TK’s schedules to line up together for a day off in the past month. They’ve both had hectic shifts that seemed to drag and never end, shifts that were always opposite each other. One of them gets home just as the other is about to leave, barely giving them time to spend together. Their time together was either spent taking a quick shower together or having breakfast or dinner before one of them had to dash out the front door with a soft kiss brushed to the other’s lips and a promise of I’ll be careful.

And aside from their frustration at the lack of quality time they had together, they were also pretty down by the fact they couldn’t go over to Andrea and Gabriel’s as it had been established.

Since their engagement, Carlos and TK would go over to the Reyes’ once a week and it had become a ritual all of them loved and looked forward to, until the misalignment of Carlos and TK’s schedules had broken what was becoming their tradition.

They would make it work when their schedules were in sync and even opted for breakfast or brunch when Carlos and TK had shifts on the days that worked best for Andrea and Gabriel. It was important for all four individuals to have that time together, for them to grow even closer and strength their relationship.

There were the infamous Sunday dinners at the Reyes ranch they go to as well, Carlos and TK always happy to see Tia Lucy and the rest of the Reyes family, and the feeling was reciprocated, with the family always happy to see the young couple, too. But they had regrettably missed a few of those, courtesy of their jumbled work lives. TK remembers coming home from shift to find Carlos on the phone with Tia Lucy, promising they’d make it to the first Sunday dinner their schedules allowed for.

And soon, it seemed a higher form was finally in Carlos and TK’s corners and they found themselves at the Reyes ranch the following Sunday.

“Mom and dad are really looking forward to it, too,” Carlos replies. “They really missed having us over. And mom is making your favorite.”

The line moves up just as Carlos’s phone pings in his pocket. He fishes it out and his smile widens at the screen.

“Mom just replied,” he tells TK. “They don’t need us to pick up anything on the way, she says they just want us to hurry over because they miss us.”

TK chuckles. “As soon as this line moves some more.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” TK agrees and then returns the soft kiss Carlos brushes against his lips.

Carlos squeezes TK’s hand before letting go and making his way down the street, almost speed walking down the block.

TK’s eyes follow Carlos until he disappears down the road and then moves up on more spot in line. He pulls his phone from his jeans back pocket and starts scrolling through his Instagram feed to kill some time while he waits.

TK isn’t sure how much time had passed by when the all-too familiar ring of a shot has TK’s head jerking up so fast he thinks he gives himself whiplash.

And with a sinking feeling, he realizes the sound came from the direction Carlos had walked in.

*****

The ambulance hits a small bump but TK barely feels it. He closes his eyes, sending a prayer that today isn’t the day he loses the love of his life.

He squeezes Carlos’s hand, his heart breaking some more at the lack of response from his fiancé. At the absence of his loving and comforting touch, at the absence of the warmth that always radiates so brightly from him. The warmth that has become TK’s home and his sanctuary.

Part of him is scared beyond words he’ll never get to feel that warmth again.

TK’s a paramedic and he knows Carlos is in rough shape, he knew the moment he found him. He’s seen this so many times, how quickly it happens, how—

TK shakes his head, he’s never given up on Carlos and he isn’t about to start now.

He does his best to expel those intruding thoughts and he faintly registers the paramedic’s voice saying they’re three minutes away from the hospital.

“Stay with me, babe,” TK whispers, his voice catching in his throat. “Please.”

Dread stirs in his stomach when Carlos’s numbers keep dropping, the only response he gets…

*****

Carlos had just finished paying for the bouquet when his ears pick up on the sound of commotion getting louder and louder outside. It’s a stark contrast to how calm and quiet it was when he first made his way to the shop. He frowns, quickly thanking the florist and makes his way out of the store.

The door hasn’t even fully closed behind him yet when he spots three uniformed officers running in his direction, and his eyes track their movement to find a middle aged man running ahead of them. He immediately recognizes him as the perpetrator, and the atmosphere around turns heavy and tense.

His training kicks in and his concern shifts to the civilians standing around. He wants to help get them to safety, to move and guide them away from this chase. There aren’t that many people but it’s still a considerable amount, but they start yelling and dispersing when they notice what’s going on.

It turns into chaos and the fact that any of them can get hurt, that an innocent person can get hurt, powers Carlos’s legs to move. He’s about to speak up while digging his hand into his pocket for his phone to call TK when he spots the gun in the perp’s hands.

The gun that is being waved around and is being aimed at the officers.

He follows the trajectory and Carlos’s eyes go wide when it leads straight to a little girl standing alone in the line of fire, fear etched on her features.

They make eye contact for a moment, Carlos immediately noticing the tears staining her cheeks and her shaking body. His heart pounds harshly against his ribcage and the next thing he knows, he’s in the middle of the sidewalk, directly in the line of fire, his body curled around the little girl and a loud bang is heard.

Everything is still and silent for a few seconds and Carlos doesn’t move.

And then he feels the pain, it comes all at once, spreading and flaring up through his entire body and tears start stinging in his eyes. He draws in a deep breath but the smallest of movements makes the agony worse, makes the fire in his nerves burn hotter and he feels paralyzed. He pushes through it, wanting to make sure the little girl is okay and that no one got hurt. He vaguely recognizes his own voice when he asks her if she’s okay and he only half registers her small nod in response.

His hand goes to the source of the pain and it comes back wet and sticky.

Add pressure, his tired head supplies. He does his best but he has to stifle a groan at the wave of pain that shocks his system.

His vision blurs, the sounds and voices around him fading away, even the ones coming to his aid and the ones yelling to call 911, it all feels so far away now. He sways dangerously to the side, losing his balance and then everything is sideways.

A moment later, his sight narrows and darkness creeps up on him. And his last thought before he gives into the darkness is a name.

TK.

*****

TK hears the paramedic in the front radio dispatch about Carlos’s condition, giving them live updates so the hospital is prepared when they arrive. He’s done that himself so many times, taking updates from Tommy and Nancy and had that back and forth with dispatch but it never had his hands shaking like they are now.

He sucks in a lungful of air and shakily exhales. He leans closer to Carlos, and even though his eyes are closed, TK hopes he can hear him.

“You’re going to be just fine, babe, I’m right here and I promise I’m not going anywhere. We’re almost at the hospital and they’re going to help you and you’ll be back on your feet in no time,” TK sniffs. “You’ll get better and we’ll continue planning the wedding, you know our parents have so many ideas and opinions and we gotta work through all of that together.

A little heavy voice at the back of TK’s head whispers, if you get to have a wedding…

TK silences it.

“I’m pretty sure your mom’s binder for the wedding is now twice the size it was last time,” TK lets out a wet chuckle, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I need you, babe, I need you so much and just…please, please, hang on.”

TK’s hand is still shaking when he reaches out and threads his fingers through Carlos’s soft and loose curls, TK loves them when they run wild. He then brushes a stray curl back from Carlos’s forehead, the same one that falls over the officer’s forehead when he sleeps. He brushes it back in the same manner he does on the rare occasion when he wakes up before Carlos, smiling when Carlos gravitates towards him even in his sleep upon his soft touch.

But Carlos isn’t asleep right now and TK is painfully aware of that fact by how cool Carlos’s skin feels and how still his body is. Carlos isn’t a fidgety sleeper, he doesn’t twist and turn often, he’s quite calm but there are small movements that TK had noticed over the years they've been together, small movements that are Carlos; a soft sigh, a light turn, nuzzling his face against the pillow, an arm tightening around TK’s middle, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way Carlos’s eyes move a bit under his closed lids when he’s dreaming. And all of those little things are absent right now, their absence breaking TK at his core.

He wishes this were a dream, that he’d wake up and they’d be in their bed, safe and sound, wrapped in each other’s arms and he’d get to experience and witness all those little things again. He already misses Carlos’s touch.

But he knows this is reality, because if this were a dream, he would have woken up already.

It’s not a dream, but it is a nightmare.

*****

TK’s legs move on their own accord while his brain works on catching up with what he just heard. The logical side of his head tells him to wait, that maybe running in the direction of danger isn’t the best idea but he pushes it to the side, not giving it another moment of thought. He can’t. He needs to do one thing and that is getting to Carlos, to see him and to make sure he’s okay.

Something in his gut tells him that Carlos isn’t okay and that instinct has him breaking into a full sprint.

It’s easy to spot the group of people gathered around on the sidewalk and TK’s heart plumes into his stomach when he notices the havoc is right in front of the flower shop. He scans the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of his fiancé, any sign to tell him that he’s okay, but as the seconds tick by and he gets closer with no sign of Carlos, the hot pit in TK’s stomach gets bigger and bigger.

He knows Carlos would have jumped into action at hearing the gunshot, but he’s worried that that took a turn for the officer. That’s when TK’s eyes catch the blue of Carlos’s shirt through gaps between the crowd, the blue of the shirt TK loves, the blue that’s too close to the ground for it to be anything other than what TK had feared, what he felt in his gut since hearing the shot echo off the buildings and ring in his head.

He can’t control the mix of a gasp and sob that escapes him as he yells Carlos’s name.

“Carlos!” TK’s voice pierces even his own ears. “Let me through! He’s my fiancé!” He pushes through the crowd, fighting to get to Carlos as his heart rages in his chest. “Let me through! I’m a paramedic!”

TK finally breaks through the crowd, spotting the bouquet that’s now on the ground, the flowers scattered and broken. He wastes no time in dropping to his knees next to Carlos and pushing two fingers against his neck. He holds his breath, waiting for that thud…one, two, three. TK’s shoulder slightly sag forward when he finally feels Carlos’s heart beat against his fingers.

He can hear someone on the phone with 911 but it’s in the background, all his attention is on Carlos. The momentary relief at finding a pulse is quickly replaced with fear as TK registers the pool of blood already formed underneath the older man, staining the asphalt crimson.

The blood seeping out of a bullet wound in Carlos’s stomach.

Carlos’s head has lolled to the side, his eyes closed and no, no, no, this isn’t how the day was supposed to go, TK thinks as he clamps down both hands tightly over the wound, ignoring how his stomach twists at the sensation of Carlos’s blood seeping through his fingers.

“Carlos? Carlos, can you hear me?” TK speaks, hoping his voice is steadier than it sounds to him.

He presses down harder and the action has Carlos gasping, his eyes flying open and drawing in a deep breath which is immediately let out through a series of groans.

“Hey, babe, hey, look at me, look at me,” TK guides Carlos, who’s eyes roam around for a few moments before finding TK’s worried ones.

“TK,” Carlos breathes around another groan.

“I’m here, I’m right here, just focus on me,” TK continues, his eyes never leaving Carlos’s.

“Hurts…tired,” Carlos whispers, his eyes beginning to close again.

“No, no, you have to stay awake, babe,” TK doesn’t hold back the panic anymore as it coats his words. “I know it hurts and that you’re tired, but you have to stay awake for me, can you do that?”

And when has Carlos ever been able to refuse TK anything? So he slowly nods, fighting against the pull back into the darkness and focuses on TK.

“‘m sorry…”

TK’s eyebrows knit together. “For what?”

Instead of replying, Carlos uses all the energy he has to lift his hand and places it over TK’s.

TK doesn’t need words to know what Carlos means, to know what Carlos is saying. They don’t need words to understand each other, their connection much deeper than that. TK’s heart breaks some more at the realization that Carlos is saying goodbye.

“Hey, no, no,” TK shakes his head. “Don’t say goodbye, we’re not done yet, you hear me? There’s still so much for us to do together, to experience together and this isn’t the end. It can’t be, I won’t let it be. We can’t lose all that we are and all that we will be. Just stay with me, baby.”

Tears are now streaming freely down TK’s face and he doesn’t move to wipe them and where is the ambulance?

Carlos lets out a shaky sigh and he barely responds when TK’s hands press down even more on his stomach in hopes of controlling the bleeding.

The lack of response from Carlos has TK’s blood running cold.

“I’m scared,” Carlos’s voice breaks, the tears swimming in his eyes bringing out the brown of his irises.

“I’m right here, I’ll be right by your side, I’m not going anywhere,” TK is quick to reassure him. “I won’t let go.”

Carlos blinks and sends a tear rolling down the side of his face, disappearing into his hair.

“Can you…” Carlos starts but pauses to breathe. “My parents…they…our day…”

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it, I promise. And we’ll have plenty more days with them. Just save your strength, okay?”

And then the air around them is filled with the sound of incoming sirens, far away but getting closer by the second.

“You hear that, babe? Help is almost here,” TK says and moves to plant a kiss to Carlos’s forehead. “Hold on, babe, hold on,” he whispers against Carlos’s skin. “I love you so much.”

“Love…you,” Carlos replies with a hitch in his voice.

And when TK pulls back and looks down, Carlos’s eyes had drifted shut.

“No, no,” TK’s tone is laced with desperation and fear. “Open your eyes, Carlos, open your eyes…baby…”

He doesn’t hold back the wail that tears through his throat when Carlos’s eyes eyes remain closed.

TK still fights against the thought that Carlos had said goodbye.

*****

It’s a fury of action when the ambulance comes to a halt at the Emergency Room entrance. The doors are ripped open and a doctor and two nurses are standing by the rig. The information starts rolling off the paramedic’s tongue as he gives them a rundown of Carlos’s condition and injury.

TK is frozen in place, hearing the words but they’re not quite sinking in as the other paramedic jumps out of the front and rounds the ambulance. The two paramedics get Carlos out and TK watches as they push the gurney into the ER, moving quickly through the sliding door and through the hallways. TK knows he should follow but he still can’t get himself to step out of the ambulance.

Instead, he repeats the words he heard over and over in his head.

Vitals low but stabilized, bleeding controlled…

He feels his knees go weak and scared he’s going to topple over, he falls back onto the small cushioned seat.

He thinks about the promise he made Carlos and suddenly his phone feels very heavy in his pocket. He knows he has to make that call, he knows it’s going to break his heart all over again and he doesn’t know if he can get through that call without breaking down. But he will pull his phone out of his pocket. He will dial the number but right now, he can’t tear his gaze away from his closed fist. After what feels like an eternity, he slowly opens his palm and a choked sob echoes inside the ambulance.

TK stares at the ring sitting in his hand, Carlos’s ring.

He tilts his hand and the sun catches the engraved words written inside, Yours forever

He closes his hand again and brings his fist to rest over his heart, feeling it thump against his own skin.

TK prays he’ll get to slip the ring back onto Carlos’s finger and Carlos will reply with the smile that’s reserved for only him.

And eight days later, he does and the smile Carlos gives him brings the light back into TK’s world.

37 notes · View notes

keravnous · 3 years ago

Text

- agent 14/agent steve haines; american money

It's a Thursday and it's raining. The raindrops are heavy and loud on impact, running down his windshield like tears. He's on his way to the set and he prays that it'll clear up soon.

"This show will kill you", Warren sits on his bed, sheets lazily draped over his legs. Steve can see where his pubic hair begins and his mouth waters. Warren takes a long drag from his cigarette, blows the smoke into the air.

"It fucking won't, nothing can", Steve's leaning against the door frame, coffee in hand.

"Fuck yes, it can. And it will, lurking around at Forum Drive all day and for what? Two minutes of frightening pictures that will make Karens all over LS go buck wild."

"Who's Karen?"

"Forget about it. Let me suck your dick, Haines, c'mere."

As he arrives near the recreational center and pulls into one of the lots it has indeed stopped raining. The streets are still wet but the sun's coming out again and the air is already mushy with the reblooming heat. There's a lanky man with a dog and he's yelling into his phone - the man that is, not the dog.

He knows who the guy is, even though he most likely doesn't know him, probably he doesn't even know that Steve exists. He's an associate of Franklin Clinton and the Bureau keeps a close eye on him, due to the nature of Clinton being so close with Townley and Philips.

Steve watches Lamar, leaning against the hood of his car, the remaining rain wetting his thigh through the denim.

"Man Frank, you just ain't around no more, homie. That's all I'm saying. Yeah - Yeah, sure whatever, dog - Yeah, fuck yourself too, homie."

He hangs up and stuffs his phone back into his pocket. The dog looks at him. "Man, you get the fool more than I do, Chop. Wassup with him, can you tell me? He always been that fool, but something ain't right there."

Steve knows what ain't right there. Franklin must've picked up by now, or maybe Townley told him, what they were up to that one afternoon at the warehouse. And for what he knows about Clinton and what the intel tells him, the young man probably isn't much of a big fan of government-approved interrogation techniques.

And he probably also won't like what Steve has next in stock. Warren was a little careless the last time around, tongue loosend by sweet kisses and a hand around his dick, when he spoke about a securicar delivering important IAA files soon. It won't hurt 14 but it would definitely aid Steve an awful lot, so he decided to send the boys on the road again, maybe on Tuesday.

The production team's van rolls up next to him and they swarm around him like a stock of bees buzzes around their queen and then there's sound and light checks being run and a woman applies powder to his face. Lamar Davis has not moved a single step. Their eyes meet.

"What are you idiots doing here?", he hollers. Steve wonders if he could be of use.

"We're shooting a show", he replies, while the attach a little microphone to his collar, "The Underbelly of Paradise, you surely have already seen an episode or two."

"You're that Haines-guy then?", something in Lamar's voice makes his skin crawl, his files told Steve that he too is a gangster after all, killing and robbing are some of Davis' favourites. The look he shoots him isn't much friendlier.

"In the flesh", Steve dusts of the sleeves of his polo shirt.

"Yeah, aight. Fuck you then, man. C'mon Chop, we best be leavin', homie. Imma take you back to Frank's crib", oh, there is something in Lamar's voice that Steve definitely doesn't like at all but he just smiles politely at the man, until he's around the corner and out of sight. Steve's smile drops.

"Can we hurry this up a little, people? I don't got all day!" The bees start buzzing again.

The raid on the Humane goes by easier than expected. They are in Warren's living room, as the news inform about the incident. Steve is just pouring himself another glass of wine and Warren looks at him.

He knows, that the other one knows. It's a cover story the IAA will buy, but not Warren. Pain shoots through his legs as he slowly makes his way towards the sofa.

Warren mouths a few words at him. Be careful. Steve nods and leans over, places a soft kiss on his shoulder.

"Learned from the best", he whispers and Warren jerks.

"What?", there's panic in his voice.

"The Rashkovsky Job? The breakout and then his research goes missing?"

Warren blinks at him in disbelief.

"So, did he let you know if he likes it in South America?"

They laugh and Steve feels light, his fingertips tingle with it.

Steve's on his balcony. There's a saxophonist a few meters down the road, playing some Sinatra pieces and the music wraps itself around him like a blanket. The musician's interpretation reaks of melancholy and reminds Steve of the golden days of Vinewood cinema, noir films and cigarette smoke. Musicians playing at street corners isn't something foreign in a city where everyone has dreams of being the next big national superstar, but Steve usually hates him with his guts. This one's different. It touches him and he finds himself enjoying the dark, warm tunes that float through the cool air. It will be autumn soon and Steve's glad that the heat will be gone.

Warren watches him from the inside, leaning against the kitchen counter, lips curled in a smile.

Steve has always hated Michael's bloated and ugly, fat face and now he even gets to point a gun at it. It feels like his birthday and christmas fall on the same day.

"They know or they think they know that I'm the one that was behind the incident."

They stare each other into the ground, guns raised. Steve's ready to fire, has been from the minute Townley walked onto the plaza for the first time.

"Put the weapons down, boys. Fun time's over!", Steve wants to sigh. This is not happening. And then they are suddendly surrounded by their own man Sanchez has sent and then fucking Merryweather's there, too. This is not fucking happening. And so he does the only thing he's always been good at.

"We all know you Agency boys are balls deep in a plot to drive up your fundings by any means necessary", he shouldn't have said that. Warren trusted him with that info, even showed him the intel. He sees something moving behind Agent ULP's eyes, it's fear. He's got him.

Suddendly there's a loud pop and then pain shooting through his left leg. "Same goddamn leg", he blurts out as hell starts to break loose around him. Sanchez blood sprays the concrete in a bright red as the bullet pierces his skull. Steve wishes it would've been Michael instead.

He runs until he can't take the pain no more, then cowers on the ground, slowly robbing behind cover, as Dave and Michael pick up the gun fight. He's bleeding heavily, red liquid rushing out of the wound and drenching his cargos. It seems like the bullet is stuck and maybe has wounded some arteries. He figures that he probably hasn't that much time left. He strips himself out of his shirt and wraps it around his leg, adding pressure on his thigh, just above the bullet wound.

He thinks about Warren. Oh dear God, don't let me die today.

"What did you do?", it's Warren, he's sitting at Steve's kitchen table.

"Did you let yourself in, pretty boy?"

"What happend?", he sounds furious now, gets up and his eyes bore into Steve's. He's dizzy with it, with what Warren's gaze tells him, let's him know without saying a word.

"Nothing, it's nothing."

"You got shot!"

"Yeah, the same leg."

"That's - you're-"

Steve wraps his arms around him and presses him close and Warren releases a surprised noise. "I'm still here", he says and it's more for and to himself, than for Warren but the other doesn't seem to care, burying his face in Steve's neck.

The world's a little brighter and warmer and Steve doesn't feel that threatend anymore. He has to make a phone call, but that can wait a few more minutes.

He has a team on the way to the plant, it will be alright. They'll be gone for good, just another casualty. He sighs, takes a deep breath and throws the script on the seat across from him.

"Are the cameras rolling? Yes? How do I look, the chin's sharp?"

Warren looks at him, eyes still a little hazy from his last orgasm and Steve turns his head and looks at him. He's so pretty and Steve's heart misses a beat.

"I-", his voice breaks and Warren blinks.

"Yeah?"

"I hate you."

Warren laughs. It's deep and dripping with amusement, running down Steve's body like hot honey. He rolls himself over, on top of Warren, who's still laughing deep in his chest, burying a hand in Steve's blond hair.

"No. No, you don't."

They look at each other and their gazes turn soft. "Sometimes I do", Steve's voice is quiet, honesty seeping through his words, "But sometimes I-, I would burn the world down to protect you."

Warren's hand caresses his neck. "My life would be so very boring without you, Haines. It nearly makes me forget that I just really want to skin you alive, sometimes."

It's not really an I love you - I love you too, but it's as close as they can get without hurting their egos. The kiss is soft and sweet and a promise.

"Hi, I'm Steve Haines. I've tracked down killers, attacked incompetence and taken down terrorist cells, and tonight -"

The gunshot rips through the night and the camera man throws himself back, lands unpleasently on his back.

"My god! The guy! What's-his-name! Fuck, shit, they shot him!", he stares down at the dead man, blood rushing out of the bullet wound in the back of his head. The impact had torn some skin and skull apart and there's a nasty opening, his brain leaks out of it. The camera man vomits out of the gondola as sirens erupt in the night.

Warren has his feet up on the coffee table, mindlessly zapping through the programs. It's all shallow and boring and he hopes that Steve will be home soon. Home.

His stomach does a funny little flip and Warren smiles to himself, wraps the blanket around him tighter. It smells of him, his perfume. He closes his eyes and he can practically feel Steve's hand creeping around his neck, resting on his shoulder, heavy and warm. It's always like that, when he comes in on Warren sitting on the sofa. He will lean down and place a feather light kiss on the back of his head, maybe rest his nose there for a moment, taking the other man's scent in for a few seconds, before getting up again and ranting about Norton or another colleague. A fuzzy warmth spreads in his stomach and Warren sighs. A sudden noise interrupts his daydreaming and he lazily opens an eye at the TV. It's a Weazle Broadcast.

"We interrupt our nightly program for an important message. We just recieved notice that FIB Special Agent Steve Haines has been shot on duty at the Del Pierro Pier. Agent Haines died a hero, doing what he loved, which was presenting a TV show. He helped combine the chaos of anti-terrorism and the mindlessness of network television into one highly successful career. Mr. Haines, who was not married, leaves behind his mother."

The world goes silent.

He's not moving. Has not in hours, maybe it's even a full day at this point. He has not eaten, has not showered, has not moved at all.

Warren feels like a dead man. The thought makes a bitter laugh splutter over his lips and then has him break out in tears immediately after.

It's a scary thought that people continue to live their lives, acknowledging that an agent passed away last night but they are now out and about, at their jobs, maybe seeing friends or family. A lover, even. They are busy living their life's while Warren's just dissolved in a matter of seconds.

It's a scary thought being ripped off of something so dear so abruptly, it's scary how it ripped a hole it Warren's chest that is now filled with a black, emotionless but equally painful void that nags, tears and claws at him.

It's a scary thought that he's alone again.

His body, his throat gives in and he's rolling on his side, screaming and tearing at the blanket, fingers grabbing at the fabric, as his knuckles turn white. He's screaming and screaming and screaming until his throat is sore and his eyes burn and the only noises that leave his mouth are little pathetic whines of exhaustion and the gasping for air. The pain in his chest takes his breath away, chokes him and makes him want to curl up, bore a knife into it, twist and turn it until it goes away. He feels like vomiting.

It's Sunday. It's been a little over 30 hours. Warren is tired, but everytime he tries to close his eyes he sees him, hears his laughter ring in his ears. It hurts. It hurts so much, he has hardly any words left to describe the agony he is going through.

His head hurts too, so does his throat and his stomach, with the constant throwing up and the lack of hydration. But he can't bring himself to get up, to grab a glass of water and drown some pain killers and go to bed. His legs are heavy and he just doesn't have the energy.

Warren feels like dying but he's also so painfully alive.

He's wide awake. He'll need to find a solution for how he's going to be able to go to work tomorrow.

But for now he's wrapping himself in Steve's blanket, the one he sleeps in when he's been over, inhaling the fading scent.

"Agent 14?"

His eyes are red, bloodshot and his fingers are trembling, seconds away from shaking. He had powder this morning to just make it somehow and it's slowly wearing off. He hasn't been on coke since college and it sent him on a murder high, blood pumping like a race horse only to now let him dive head-first into a killer hole.

It's been three days since Steve left his life both, quiet and eardrum-tearing loudly, and it feels like a nightmare, eternal and burning hot. He's empty inside but there's also just so much pain, it feels like he's breaking into pieces. His stomach clenches and his heartbeat is heavy, vibrates thickly in his chest and he just wants to die, too.

"Mrs. Rackham", his voice is rough, it doesn't bother to hide that Warren had been crying and screaming his lungs out every night since Steve's brain had been splattered onto the ferris wheel.

"I need to talk to you."

This is about Avon and Clifford, he's sure. His hand shakes and coffee spills on his desk. He curses under his breath and reaches for a tissue but Mrs. Rackham grabs his hand with force. They look at each other. Warren blinks.

"You are not in a good condition. I don't need explanations or lies, 14. I want to offer you my sincere condolences on your loss, Mister Jones. "

Warren takes a deep breath but he can't keep his eyes from tearing up.

"Take the week off, Agent", as he's not moving, shocked and dumbfounded, she starts to pick his jacket up, "Go now, I'll cover you up."

He gets on his feet, knees weak and body shaking, takes his jacket from her hands.

"Thank you, Phoenicia", he means it.

She looks at him. "I'm sorry", and she means it, too, "The IAA could've done some-"

"Don't."

She nods sharply and then looks at him once more, eyes piercing.

"I lost my husband in service as well, Iraq in 2004."

And then they're hugging, Warren is burrying his face into her neck and wailing like a little child.

It's a weird feeling and it fucks with his head as his gaze falls on the door of his apartment. He could've sworn that he heard the key turning the lock. He stares and stares and stares and it feels like his brain is readying for Steve to come through the door anytime.

He doesn't.

It's midnight and he had five more moments like the door-lock one earlier. He feels like he may go insane.

Warren fumbles for his phone on the nightstand and opens up Eyefind, types his thoughts into the searchbar.

At the end of his research he's left with two possibilities: it's either a stage of grief (denial they call it - dying's more fitting, Warren thinks) or the sideeffects of the coke slowly wearing off.

It's raining. It's like the heavens above are pissing down on him. Warren's crying while the rain relentlessly pounds on his umbrella.

He's standing a few meters away from the funeral party. Steve's mother bails her eyes out and he would like to go over to her and wrap her im his arms but he would just be a stranger to her.

There's a saxophonist in front of the cementry. He's playing Sinatra's Summer Wind, sounding sad but warm nonetheless. Steve's family probably thinks of that as a weird coincidence but Warren has spent two full nights finding the man again, who has played down at Steve's street corner all those months ago. It was difficult and time consuming, but not impossible.

There's a new wave of tears making their way out of Warren's eyes and he has to clasp a hand on his mouth to stop the painful noises from making their way into the soft air of spring. He feels like he's breaking apart, torn into two pieces.

He cries and cries and cries until the funeral party is long gone any the sun sets. The saxophonist is still playing.

When Warren comes home the sun's gone for some while and it's dark out. There's a light burning in his kitchen. For a moment, just a split second, it feels like Steve will swing around the corner. But he doesn't.

He walks into the kitchen to find a bouquet of white lillies sitting on the countertop. He checks the card attached to them.

Sorry about your loss.

He doesn't recognize the handwriting, it looks like it could've been written by someone who's older than Warren, male maybe, but his last Hand Writing and Letter Indentification Course was two years ago. He figures his cleaner, a nice elderly lady, had put them there. He thinks about her seeing the bouquet on the door step and carefully carrying them inside, placing them in the only vase Warren has at home. It makes him both sad and glad, glad that at least she's still around.

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.

14 would've liked to ask Robert Frost if he was just stupid or naive or both.

Two days later he's so angry at the world that he grabs the vase and throws it across the room, where it collides with the wall and breaks in a thousand little pieces.

The anger keeps on coming, rage that boils hot and white in his stomach, makes him lash out at colleagues and scream his lungs out, throwing things and fits like it's nothing.

He finds himself beating into walls and furniture until his knuckles bleed.

Mrs. Rackham puts him onto another break, Temporarily Suspended Until Further Notice the record reads.

Warren's awake, restless but exhausted, again. It's three in the morning. His head hurts, his bones hurts, his whole body feels heavy.

"I should've stopped you from going", he whispers into the night and his mind conjurs up Steve's voice, consoling him.

"No, really. I should have been more persistent. If you just would've stayed with me that night."

Steve answers him again, but it sounds washed out in Warren's ear.

Oh, please don't let me forget his voice.

He's not moving again. Hasn't done so in two days.

Mrs. Rackham continues to call him, but he won't pick up. He can't handle her, can't handle her sorrow and her advices. He doesn't want to hear it. She would probably also bug him about not showing up for work again and that's just something he really doesn't want to hear right now.

It's phone rings again and he picks it up to throw it against the wall with all the force he can possibly muster, so it would just shut up, but it's not Phoenicia calling this time. It's Lester.

"14? This is Crest." He doesn't sound good. Warren doesn't know what to say.

"I am, ehrm, calling to see how you're doing?" Odd. He can't bring himself to say anything back. "You know I, err, saw you didn't clock in to work for a few days? Are you doing, ehrm, well?"

"Yeah", it sounds as broken as he feels. There's an uncomfortable silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds, maybe even for a full minute. He hears Lester's inhaler.

"I, well I err heard about Haines."

It should send him into a rage, a fit, maybe even crying manically but there's just nothing. Just the casual numbness that hangs above him like thick clouds these days.

"Yeah, a shame, isn't it?"

There's coughing, then deep breaths being taken. "You're not doing too well, Crest?"

"Can we meet up, 14? I", another cough, "I know a place."

The sun's out and it burns in Warren's eyes, on his skin, even though he's wearing both, a jacket and sunglasses. Crest sits across from him at the table, not touching his iced coffee. So isn't Warren, he is neither thirsty nor hungry.

They are at a bean machine on Vinewood Boulevard. It's one of the stores Steve used to buy his coffee at. There should be stining pain at the thought but there's just sadness, blackness wandering through Warren's mind.

"You don't look too good", Crest says.

"You neither", Warren says and to mask the shaking of his voice he takes a sip from the coffee. It tastes like nothing, like liquid paper.

"I don't feel to good either. But you also don't, so what's the matter, 14."

Warren just shrugs. Lester looks at him, a steady and stern gaze, as if he's looking for answers in Warren's eyes, in his fucking soul.

"What are we doing here?"

"Just looking after a, err, friend."

"We're not friends, Crest."

"Associates then, maybe?", the look on his face is a little sad, offended. Warren can't bring himself to care.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Any lead, yet?"

Warren lifts his eyebrows in suprise. "A lead?"

"Yeah, you know", Crest clears his throat and leans in a little, "Who did it, you know."

Maybe Warren's mind is playing tricks on him again, but Crest looks a little concerned.

"No, none. Nothing."

Crest nods and leans back. Lester doesn't offer his help, so Warren decides that he then won't ask for it. Still confused and mouth already opened he wants to know why, as Lester's lungs throw a fit, his body cramping and being thrown forward and then back again by his dry coughs. Warren's up on his feet in a matter of seconds, his heartbeat picking up a fast rate he hasn't feeled in weeks, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He grabs Lester by his shoulders and holds him up, while he coughs coughs coughs. At the end of it there's blood on his chin.

"You're not planing on dying as well, are you?"

The look Lester shoots him, slumped in his chair with other guests on the terrace staring at them in shock, makes Warren's skin crawl.

He hasn't been at an attorney's office ever. It's a weird experience.

The people are nice and calm and so is Mister Allan, who has Steve's testament laying in front of him.

"So, Mister Jones, shall we get started then?"

Warren nods. It still confuses him. He wonders what Steve's mother thought, when she heard that she won't inherit everything. Warren doesn't want money, money won't replace anything.

He must've said that out loud, because Allan chuckles.

"Mister Haines hasn't left you money. No need to worry, Mister Jones."

He leaves the office with a black box tucked safely under his arm. He doesn't open it, not in the office, not on the way out in the elevator, not at home. He tucks it away in his closet, deep down where he keeps a ski puffer, that he never wears anyways.

He finds himself talking to Steve, or what his mind conjurs up of his memories, more often. It helps him, or so he hopes.

He misses him and the soliloquy is a good substitute, at least for now.

They are at a clinic just above the hills and behind the Vinewood sign, far away from the city, the air is dry and crisp nonetheless. Lester sits in a wicker chair, wrapped in a blanket and stares at the fountain in the middle the perfectly trimmed meadow. Warren sits next to him, craving a cigarette, but not lighting one. He'll have to wait a couple more minutes, until the nurse will bring Lester back into the clinic.

"Thank you for stopping by", Crest means it.

"Am I the only one?"

"No, oh no. There's, ehrm, Franklin's coming over too, once or twice a week."

He looks better, rested. Warren doesn't know who Franklin is, but he nods politely anyways.

"That's nice."

"Yeah, he's a good kid." A crook then.

"Are they treating you well up here?"

"It's fine, I- argh, fuck it. The dinner's horrible but the doctor's are good enough. Won't make a difference anyways."

"That's what they're saying then?", Warren looks into the setting sun. From up here Los Santos seems peaceful, quiet, a big, glorious and shining city. It's a hell hole full of shit, Warren knows that now, but he can't leave. Not yet.

"Yeah. No. They don't say it, but they mean it. It's in their eyes." Lester takes a sip of his water.

"Don't say that, Crest."

Lester looks at him. He doesn't say it, but the look on his face says it all. You've been through enough, I won't tell you that I'm dying soon.

"Yeah, well, it was nice seeing you. Getting better and such", Warren gets up, the wicker creaking, his phone in hand and sunglasses back on. They look at each other for a long, quiet moment and then Warren nods, turns around to leave. A surprisingly strong hand grabs his arm.

"I have a project, it's happening right now, Warren."

He stops in his tracks. From somewhere behind the fountain laughter sweeps up the hill. There's an old lady on the meadow with their grandchildren and they're playing ball. She has a bandage around her head.

"A project?", Warren doesn't turn around.

"Yeah, I'd like you to take over. You need something to do."

"I still have a job, Crest."

"That reminds you of him." It's like a kick into his guts and there's sudden rage boiling inside of him, but there's also something else. A certain calmness, that wraps itself around his shoulders like a white blanket. T feels a lot like clarity.

"That it does, yeah."

"I'll have Paige bring you the details."

"Sure. Good night, Crest."

He walks over the little path out of bark mulch, that is overgrown by trees, back to his car. He feels oddly content.

See, life does goes on. It's a weird thought that strikes him out of nowhere. He's afraid of forgetting everything that was, since forgetting always seemed easy. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week but who knows what will be in a year? Maybe he'll catch himself sooner or later, not thinking about Steve for a few weeks, months, years.

He's afraid of that, sincerely so.

The air in the bunker is cold and damp. Some of his people are moving out the old equipment. He doesn't know Crest's newest associate, it's most likely no one from the Hertz/Clifford-Incident.

I'm sorry I called him a buffoon, if I had only known back then.

He thinks of Phoenicia's concerned face and suddendly he finds himself smiling.

"Oh, he was a buffoon, you weren't wrong, Ma'am", he says to himself and hears a quiet chuckle errupting from his chest. There's sadness floading him, but it's warm and sweet and feels like an old friend.

There's no time for tears as the door of the bunker suddendly beeps loudly, informing him of a visitor arriving.

"So, you're getting along, then?", Crest sounds better. Warren lets go a breath, he doesn't even know he held in the first place.

"Yeah. They are quiet, but I appreciate the effort they are putting into it."

"I told you, they're are reliable."

"So you did."

There's a long pause, silence.

"Listen, Crest. I gotta go, speak to you soon."

As he hangs up, he's confronted with his lie, standing alone in his quiet living room.

The next time Lester invites him over, he says yes. He lives in a bigger, cleaner house now and Warren can only guess, that he was indeed involved in the robbery at the Casino his team is trying to solve right now. He'll offer them a false trace. Maybe they'll pick that one up.

"Georgina's not home, you just missed her", Lester wobbles down the stairs to the living room, crutch in hand.

"Who?"

"Georgina, he lives with her", Warren looks up, from where he is securing Lester's arm with his own hand and looks into the face of a young man. He looks younger than himself and wears expensive street style clothing.

"Who are you?"

"That's Franklin, Warren. Franklin, that's the friend I've been telling you about."

"Pleasure", Warren's voice still on the edge, while the man's handshake is firm.

"You lost your man, dog? Lest been telling me."

"I did, eight months ago."

There's something moving behind Franklin's face but he's quick to cover it up. Warren wonders: what and why.

"Shame man, I'm sorry to hear that, homie. My girl left me, too."

"He didn't leave me. He died."

Franklin looks at Lester, confused and a little reproachful, too. Then, it seems to click, as Franklin looks at him again. He now looks a little terrified, actually.

"Franklin was just leaving anways, weren't you?", Crest sits down in a beige armchair. Warren notices that he has new glasses.

"Yeah, shit. I mean of course, I was on my way out. Nice meeting you man, I hope you're, you know, doing better soon. See you around."

"Thank you", Warren recieves an awkward pat on his shoulder and then Franklin's steps distance themselves, until the front door falls shut.

He didn't leave me. He died.

His own words echo in his skull but they don't throw him into a manic tantrum, he's not crying, not screaming. He's oddly calm.

Is this how it feels, when one comes to terms with something, he wonders. Maybe, it is.

He died.

That he did and it must've been fucking ugly. Blood and soupy brain everywhere. Warren wishes he could've held him during these moments, when the body is slowling shutting down, when something mysterious, unknown happens to the human consciousness.

He died.

And Warren had missed him every single day since then. He leans himself against the closed bedroom door of his apartment and then makes his way to his closet.

The box is still where he has left it.

He died. He died. He died.

"I miss you, Steve", he whispers into the silence of his flat and then he smiles, it's small and sad, and he sinks onto the ground, box clutched in his hands, "Fuck, I wish you were still here."

There's silence but Warren likes to think that something of Steve's mind, his soul is still left on this earth, stayed with him. It's a nice thought, even if it's unrealistic. It's still consoling.

Steve's gone for good, but just because his body doesn't walk the dirty streets of LS anymore doesn't mean that he left Warren's life completely - he still existed, left his footprints behind. And Warren's ready, willing even, to take carefully aligned pictures of them and hang them on his wall. He's ready to look at them every day that may come and maybe he'll stop crying at some point. Or maybe he won't. He'll be fine.

It's an odd feeling. His life still feels empty, incomplete since Steve passed and so does Warren. He feels empty, shallow and sad, but it will pass and he will take the time. It doesn't mean forgetting him, quite the contrary maybe.

He flips the lid, puts it aside carefully with a quiet thump on the carpet below. He takes a look inside and bursts out laughing.

"Did he leave you something?", he hasn't seen her in years, since college. She used to be his flat mate.

"Yeah", he smiles to himself.

"What is it?", she looks moved and Warren would love to tell her, but he can't. He really can't. Not all of it, anyways.

"A letter."

"A letter?"

"Yeah, a fucking love letter."

"Warren! Don't say that! It's very heartwarming!"

It's been a year. He still misses him. "He wasn't the type for it, that's all."

He thinks of the envelope he keeps in his safe. It's a document, FIB header and logo, completely official.

Reference: Counter Espionage, Crimes Against National Safety, A Report By Steve Haines to be handed to Misses Phoenicia Rackham In Relation "To Agent 14", Mister Warren Jones

"Oh, was he not, you know, a little a romantic?"

"No, it must've taken a lot for him to write a love letter." It was really sweet and it went well with the attempt to put Warren in a High Security Penitentiary.

"Really?", she looks a little concerned, but she doesn't get Steve, their relationship as it was, like Warren does.

He looks up from his coffee cup and lights a cigarette. He hasn't had a smoke in a long time but at least he stopped with the cocaine.

"Yeah. Sometimes", there's a smile tugging at his lips, "Sometimes I think he would've rather seen me locked away."

#i'm sorry but i had to #my writing #steve/14 tag #steve haines/agent 14 #agent steve haines #agent 14 #gta v #gta online

20 notes · View notes