#The pocket watch thing was about the mechanism you wound it with
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I hope that we can summon the spirit of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle just to see him rage about how many adaptations of his character there are because boy there are a lot of Sherlock Holmes adaptations and the quality is variable. We still like this stupid ass detective.
#If I recall correctly#The pocket watch thing was about the mechanism you wound it with#And it was a little fiddly bit#So I imagine it was just as stupid a deduction at the time as the Sherlock version with the cell phone charger was#But here we are still talking about this damn character whom even Doyle couldn't kill off
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➵ WRIOTHESLEY
synopsis : when old wounds reopen, he's relieved to have found solace in your presence wc : 1,4k tags : fem!reader, reverse comfort, fluff, little angsty bc of wrio's past
Wriothesley feels it brewing like a storm. It starts in the noon, when a light headache makes his temples throb, when his chest seems to tighten, and his scars ache as if someone is about to rip them open again.
He knows that sleep tonight won’t come easy. He always does. So instead of tossing and turning beside you, robbing you of your own rest, he prefers to stay the night in his office.
“Got some paperwork to finish. Will probably stay the night here. Love you.”
That’s the message he lets deliver to you when the dreadful feelings return like a supposedly defeated enemy. Everything seems fine until it is not. Until his concentration tends to drift off into another dimension overflowing with darkness. His thoughts leave him irritated, and unable to interact with other people without scaring them off.
At night, Wriothesley eyes the couch in his office. He contemplates whether he should try to at least close his eyes. Maybe this time he’ll fall asleep.
But he knows that a night without the vivid, gruesome images flashing before his eyes is only wishful thinking.
Instead he plunges himself into the dark space of his past. He watches small patches of blood form along the surface of the punching bag. The pain is almost impalpable, inexistent compared to what’s happening inside him right now.
His breaths are laboured as he throws jabs into the bag, one after another rubbing off more and more skin from his knuckles. There’s sweat trickling down his face and back after only a few minutes, and he realises that he’s already drained.
His thoughts, his fears, his past. They've all caught up with him in a matter of hours, pulling him left and right, almost tearing him apart.
You have to keep on fighting, Wriothesley. You can’t let them win.
Clouds obscure his vision until all he can see is red, all he hears are screams, and all he wants is peace.
But he’s not aware that oftentimes, the one thing that you need the most is already right in front of you. He’s not aware that he could have lessened the pain of his restless nights a long time ago.
The mechanical sounds of sliding metals and working machinery catch his attention, and the doors open. The clouds suddenly disappear, and what remains blinds him.
Like a miner getting out of the deepest parts of a humid cave, he feels the rays of light warm his skin, and he swears it makes him shiver in delight.
“One of the guards told me I’d find you here.” Your voice bounces off the walls as you approach him slowly. The ring in the middle of the room is empty, though a single glance at Wriothesley is enough to conclude that he comes down here to engage himself in different kinds of fights.
“Y/n? Love, what are you doing here?” His words sound garbled as he speaks, and he’s reminded to take a few gulps from his water bottle.
“Could ask you the same.” You eye him carefully while wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself. Just like the sea, the temperature inside the Fortress of Meropide seems to drop drastically at night. “Is this your so-called paperwork? Or have you already grown so tired of me that you prefer your workplace over our shared bed?”
Your words obviously carry no malice as you offer him a lopsided smile. Wriothesley can tell that you’re worried though. And tired.
“You know that’s not true.” He watches you pluck a handkerchief out of your pocket, and sighs when you use it to wipe away some of the sweat beading his hairline. “It’s late, you should have stayed at home.”
“You should have come home, Wriothesley.” There’s a change in your tone, and just your entire demeanour, when you spot the raw flesh and bruised skin on the back of his hands. But you swallow the sadness that the sight of him brings you. You push aside the disappointment of him not wanting to share his burden with you.
You suppress the anger and resentment that you hold for all the people that have let down Wriothesley’s younger self. The people who have hurt him, the monsters that still haunt him. Wherever they may be right now, you wish them nothing but utter agonising hell.
“What am I going to do with you, hm?” Your eyes skim over the damaged knuckles before you pull him to the edge of the ring on which he leans against.
“You should have seen the other guy.” He smirks while his gaze follows your form wandering around the room, looking for some clean bandages and a bowl to pour water in.
“Sure, his Grace has done quite the number on a sand-filled bag.” You roll your eyes as you find your place back between his legs, wetting and wringing a cloth out. “And on himself.”
Watching you tend to his roughed up skin with utter gentleness, Wriothesley’s again reminded how well his big hand fits into your smaller one. Hands that have destroyed so much, harmed so many, held by hands that look so delicate and which are used for mending and caring. The times that he has felt undeserving of them, of you, have been way too many, though he knows that you’d get upset if he told you so.
It catches him off guard when the sensation of your soft, pillowy lips spreads along his freshly bandaged hands. Like a light breeze in the morning, you sweep away the remaining clouds from the previous stormy night, leaving the newly risen sun in your wake. The only difference is that the sun does not choose its target. You do, and you chose him.
Something about him makes him worthy of your love, of your time, of your touch. He’s not sure what it is, because to be frank he has never deemed himself as someone with extraordinary qualities and talents. He’s just an ordinary man with a less ordinary past. But maybe it’s exactly the former one that has made you choose him. You chose Wriothesley. Not the Duke. Not his Grace. Not a former criminal. Just him and all of his rough edges.
“Let’s go up and sleep, hm?” His hand cups the side of your face, the other settles on your waist as he pulls you in closer until your chest is flush against his. Wriothesley’s cheek nestles over your collarbone, and you feel his warm breath fan over your skin when he heaves a deep sigh.
“I want to stay like this for a while. Is that okay?” You hum approvingly and watch his body relax against yours as the tension slowly but surely leaves his shoulders. A small groan slips past his lips when your fingers start tracing the muscles along his back. Like a map, you have memorised all his sore spots, all his ticklish spots, and the ones that are the most sensitive.
Wriothesley feels one of your hands slide further up to the nape of his neck. You start twirling his hair around your fingers, combing through the messy and sweaty strands, and lightly scratching his scalp in a way that makes his eyes droop, and body feel heavy.
You hear him mumble incoherently something beneath his breath and you laugh softly.
“What was that?”
“You’re amazing, you know that?” He says it so effortlessly as he gazes up at you with hooded eyes that seem to hold the entire world inside them. The corner of his lip twitches and you wonder if it is because he can feel your accelerated heartbeat.
“Well, you aren’t bad yourself either.” It’s when your chest quakes the slightest bit beneath his head, and when your sweet laugh reaches his ears-
It’s right then that he knows that he’s fine. For now, he’s fine.
And when you’re later on lying on the too short and too uncomfortable leather couch in his office with your body draped over his. When his past flashes in front of his eyes in form of nightmares. And when you hold him through every single one of them, caress his arms and chest in hopes that it will calm him down and ground him.
It’s right then that he realises that he’ll be fine as long as he has you by his side.
#wriothesley#wriothesley genshin impact#genshin wriothesley#wriothesley genshin#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley fluff#wriothesley drabble#wriothesley x you
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okay but imagine re4remake switch!reader and dom!leon oneshot that takes place after the mission, in which you had to help leon (as his partner) from the chain mechanism he was held captive in. back home, you both get a little tipsy and you decide to unknowingly tie him up to your bed BECAUSE YOU COULDNT GET THE SCENE OUT OF YOUR MIND??!!!!?? just imagine teasing him, not letting him cum and getting him so fucking worked up that he literally BREAKS the thing you tied him with AND GOES LITERALLY FERAL????????????? HELPDASBJA (THE REST IS GIVEN)
Never would you have thought this would happen. Having your fellow agent in your home, and a bonus because he was a little tipsy. His normally pale cheeks flushed pink, warmth spread through them. Leon was a silent type of drunk and honestly you didn’t expect anymore, he had his priorities straight.
But really all you could think about was that little scene back in Spain..
You hadn't gotten any intel from Leon for almost half an hour, and honestly you were getting worried. What if Luis had betrayed him? You couldn't really trust the man, he hadn't really proven himself trustworthy yet and you still had to find Ashley Graham.
Trudging through the outside of the castle, the air smelling of dirt and gunpowder made your stomach churn in disgust. You began walking down one of the endless looking corridors into the castle, the ruby coloured carpet stained brown with collected dirt over the years.
Walking past a certain room but reversing your steps, as you caught sight of two bodies trapped in chains a large mechanic hovering above.
“Leon?” You made your way inside hurriedly, grabbing the chain but immediately let go because your intrusive thoughts had broken through.
He had been bickering with Luis, a dead ganando lay near your feet, something glistening in the left pocket.
You grabbed the key and began to make work of the lock on Leon's wrists.
“I bet you've been in situations like this before.” Luis plastered a big grin on his face staring at Leon.
You inaudibly gasped, the key slipping from your fingers. A rosy blush began creeping up your cheeks, as you kept your head down quickly picking the key back up.
“Fuck sorry.” You mumbled, pushing your hair behind your ears and eventually unlocking the lock on Leon's wrists.
“It's alright, are you good? You seemed a bit startled after Luis decided to open his big mouth.” He looked at you concerned, like you were injured like some wounded lamb.
“No honest to God I'm fine Leon, I'm just happy you didn't die on me.” You awkwardly laughed, as he patted your shoulder.
All the while Luis's eyes dragged back and forth between the two of you, wow this senorita totally knew what he meant when he commented on Leon's sex life but of course he was oblivious.
After your mission was a success, and you brought the president's daughter back home safely you invited Leon around to your place for a celebration.
It was the biggest accomplishment you guys had pulled off as agents, and people would look and whisper how did they manage that? Holy shit only two of them?
You knew Leon wasn’t a party person but you reassured him it’ll only be the two of you. When you said those words over the phone your heart soared but you momentarily smacked yourself.
So now here you and Leon were tipsy, even though he definitely said he was going to stay sober, edging his cock to release a cumload for you.
“How does that feel Leon?” You cooed, one hand on your trusty vibrator the other on Leon’s cheek squishing his flesh between your thumb and index finger.
“Wanna ha- cum you bitch.” His breathing intensified, and he whined leaning back into your plush cushions, back plastered against the wall, hands tied to the headboard with the plastic toy handcuffs that you finally got to use.
“No way, bad boys who aren’t good don’t get to cum.” You tutted as you watched in awe as more precum was spilled from his slit before pulling the vibrator completely away knowing he was on edge.
Leon was so pretty. Prettiest you’ve ever seen, and you’d boast it to him if you didn’t have alcohol swimming around in your system. His tip was a natural blushed pink, angry and drooling with precum. Lengthy and curved to the left a little, a throbbing vein ran along one side and a small freckle dotted at the top. His light hair trailed from under his belly button to the base of his cock. You wanted to feel his heavy cock on your tongue but restrained yourself because when will there be another time you see Leon Kennedy this submissive?
“Fine shit- if you won’t let me go then I will.” He began tugging on the cuffs harshly shaking the bed frame, ignoring him and slipping off your top so you were just in your bra advancing closer to Leon.
“If you're a good boy I’ll let you suck me.” Revealing your bare tits and pinching your delicate nipples yourself you moaned in front of Leon making him halt.
“C’mere.” And you listened leaning in closer so Leon could take in the full picture of your ethereal beauty.
His face was practically squished against your boobs now, sticking out his tongue and kitten-licked one of your nipples knocking the breath out of your lungs. That’s when Leon latched his wet, warm mouth straight onto your bud, tweaking and nipping the other. Lost in the loving pleasure Leon was giving your tits you hadn’t realised he’d broken his restraints as he pushed you down back pressed against the mattress.
“Mmph Leon don’t stop.” You watched him unclasping the cuffs flinging them to the side.
“Oh princess, you're in for it now” He surveyed your coy expression.
You should have been scared at those words, but the adrenaline just pumped through your veins making you excited and aroused at his curt words. He grabbed the hem of the short skirt you were wearing and pulled it up so he could take a look at your white cotton panties on full display for his eyes. So innocently cute, but he knew better that you were nothing but. He poked his nose against your clothed cunt breathing in like a pervert that had you whining feeling the pressure of him against your nose.
“You're such a filthy whore y’know that?” You just mewled in return to Leon’s chidings, as he peeled back your underwear watching your glistening cunt in awe.
“Fuck I knew you wanted me.” Placing a finger on your wetness he stroked up and down languidly, watching you for a reaction.
You jerked up when you felt his finger apply pressure to your clit, your moaning intensified “Please Leon, want you to fuck me.” You lazily mumbled drunk of your mind and just let him do as he pleased.
“Don’t think I need to prep you.” His slurred words turned your mind hazy. “You're already practically dripping.”
Inserting a finger inside your heat stretching you out, coming up to your fervent mouth and indulging the taste of you. The relish of booze permeated on both of your tongues tasting it off of each other.
“Shit Leon! Feels mmh good!” Leon liked to tease normally but not right now, he was too drunk of his mind and wanted to be inside of you as soon as possible. You cried when your orgasm washed over you grabbing your bed sheets as hard as possible twisting in Leon’s grasp. His cock was pressed against your folds as he carried on devouring you roughly lips connected like a puzzle piece, a glob of your saliva slipping down your chin and making a mess on your chest.
“M’gonna fuck you stupid I swear.” He said Pumping his cock a few times. “Get on all fours now.”
Obliging straight away, you stuck your ass in the air giving Leon a view. You heard him curse and slap your ass groping your cheeks. Letting out a squeak you turned to watch him slide into your cunt in one swift movement, the pleasure washed over the both of you as you moaned for him to go faster. Listening to your pleas he sped up the pace spreading your ass cheeks wider so he could slip inside deeper inch by inch.
“Shit your tight baby, not been fucked by someone as big as me I can see.” His smug grin said it all, but you didn’t reply you physically couldn’t trying to keep your eyes open as Leon fucked the majority of alcohol out of your system. Your tits smacking against the fabric of your duvet, as you collapsed lower from the delicious fucking happening from the other side of your body.
The smacking of the bed frame was evident in the background, definitely leaving a massive mark on your white wall but at this point you didn’t really care. Your landlord probably would but that was something you could worry about another time, because right now you were getting the best sex of your life by none other than your very hot agent partner. He was so deep in your guts, when you realised you gasped a little from the penetration.
His eager fucking had you tumbling over the edge and before you knew it you were cumming tight around his cock. Your little whines made him slow his pace groaning about your pussy being the best thing he’s fucked, before he pulled out and cummed on the small of your back.
“You did so good, the best pussy I’ve had in a while and I’m still drunk but I was wondering.. do you want to go get dinner with me?”
No response from you had Leon worried, did you believe this was a mistake? You were half drunk after all, but he crawled over to your collapsed posture and could hear your soft breathing, you’d fallen asleep. Relaxing his shoulders Leon smiled, maybe dinner could wait.
#leon kennedy#leon scott kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#resident evil#resident evil x reader#resident evil smut#resident evil 4#re4#re4 leon smut#re4 remake
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What would raul do if the courier (or anyone else traveling with him) were to wear his old mechanic outfit after he begins wearing his vaquero costume?
A Week's Vacation in Goodsprings, Nevada
Pairing: Raul Tejada x Reader
Word Count: 9,926
Warnings: smut (18+), some fluff, hand jobs, groping, mutual pining, ruminations on ghoul impotence, Raul's inability to fully relax (ever), mild mentions of blood and wounds
Notes: Obligatory apologies for the wait, as I started and first mentioned this what feels like a million years ago. But, like I've said before, I refuse to force things when they aren't coming naturally. Please enjoy, Raul lovers especially. I know the pool of content for everyone's favorite vaquero is shallow, so I thought I'd contribute a little something myself.
Reader can be Courier Six if you like, but doesn't have to be.
Goodsprings, a little hovel just a stone's throw outside the hungry shadow of New Vegas, was not an especially interesting town. In days long gone by, it might've been an interesting pit stop, a place to stretch your legs and snap a photo or two on your way along the wide-stretching interstate system. Now it was nothing but a cluster of mostly abandoned buildings and a tiny community of folks struggling to get by, one of so many. Well, them and a whole score of scraggly coyotes. As the specter of nuclear holocaust had begun to fade away into unpleasant memories over the decades following the Great War, some places had slowly, painstakingly reclaimed some small nugget of life, revived their spirits enough to be worthy of recording in the new histories; Goodsprings was not one of these places.
It was a rough day to be out and about. The heat was searing, making the relatively short walk back from the town proper (what little of it there was) to the monument on the horizon feel punishingly long, your gate still a bit awkward as you continued to heal. For several days, you and the sharp-shooting mechanic who kept you company had been bedded up in the abandoned shack on the safer edge of the fairly unsafe territory, an unplanned recess that had wound up much more pleasant that you'd initially anticipated. Normally, you only stayed in the same location a night or two, always on the move to a new place, pursuing a new way to put a little money in your pocket and some food in your belly, but your roaming had been been interrupted when you'd were injured in a skirmish with some Powder Gangers.
It had been your own fault; Raul had strongly advised that the two of you not pass so close to the old prison on your way towards the little village's saloon, but you'd insisted you could eke it out without attracting any attention, impatient to settle down for the evening. You'd been mostly right, but still came out of the decision with a rifle round lodged in your leg.
Better this than get it blown off with some of that dynamite they like so much, you'd joked in an attempt to cut the tension as he helped you over the hill to Doc Mitchell's. Raul, however, hadn't found it funny in the slightest, clearly quite worried as he quickly decided that carrying you was the better option. You garnered a couple of stares as you cut straight through the scant cluster of buildings, though less than you might've, owing to the late hour. The doctor, fortunately, was easy to rouse from sleep and even easier to apologize to, nothing but concern and lingering grogginess painted across his softly aged features as he ran his eyes over the bloody wound, slicing your pant leg up to the hip with a pair of sharp scissors. Your companion had lingered silently in the corner of the exam room, watching as the other man patched you up, looking away when you'd tried to make eye contact with him. His own shoulder seemed injured, a blooming patch of blood far too high to be your own soaking into the overcoat he wore, but he didn't acknowledge it.
It had taken the contents of two doctor's bags and several stitches to stymie the crimson leak that continually ran from the hole in your leg, the pain fairly substantial when the bullet was extracted; the Doc had offered you something for the pain almost as soon as you'd arrived, but it was slow to kick in compared to how quickly his skilled hands moved. The only times Raul seemed willing to look directly at you were the moments when you couldn't hold back and cried out, but in those moments, the pain and worry in his own gaze was too much, and you squeezed your eyes shut so you wouldn't have to see it.
After about an hour, your leg was significantly improved, the stimpack you'd been given pushing the thing along on its way to healing. Still, he'd elected to bandage it and gave you a pair of crutches to encourage you to keep weight off of that side for a few days, pointing you to a few places in town where you could lay your heads for a bit. He'd rather apologetically stapled your pant leg back together as best as he could, knowing how much a good pair of pants could mean to someone, but you held no resentment towards him, grateful for his assistance. The pants could be cleaned (somewhat) and repaired.
As the two of you made your way towards the exit, Raul watched you closely as you struggled to master walking with the unfamiliar mobility aids, Doc Mitchell studying your gait from the side for the same reasons.
"Alright, you seem to be doing fine, but mind all the rocks and the cracks in the road. Could be a nasty spill." the doctor said when you reached the front door and turned back towards him, his eyes studying the two of you. "Sir, I could take a look at that shoulder for you, if you need."
Your companion stood a hair taller at being directly addressed, and you smiled comfortingly at him.
"No thanks, doc. It'll be healed by morning anyway." was all he said before pushing the door open in front of you to help you outside.
Though you'd suggested a place further out of town, knowing Raul wouldn't want to bed down too closely to everyone else, he refused to allow you to walk further than absolutely necessary, helping you up the short hill to the gas station and settling you in among the crumbling shelves. While he checked around the place, you dug your bedroll out of your bag and managed to re-jig onto it, much more comfortable as you took in your surroundings. There was tense silence between the two of you, and you felt somewhat like a child waiting for chastisement. However, none came.
When he finally seemed satisfied that the place wasn't rigged to explode or anything, he leaned against the counter and dug around in his bag, pulling a few different things from it before finally turning to approach you. He held a folded mass of greenish cloth out to you, which you strained to recognize as his old mechanic's jumpsuit in the dark, the dirty white Petro-Chico logo almost seeming to glow.
"Better than half a pair of pants with a buncha staples in it." he said, his tone hard to interpret.
"Thank you." you replied quietly, accepting his offering and laying it in your lap.
"Does it still hurt?" he asked, eyeballing your leg.
"No, I feel fine now. Just tired and kinda tender."
Your attempt at reassurance didn't seem to accomplish much, as he simply nodded and proceeded to take up a spot near the door, shucking part of his shirt and jacket to bandage his shoulder. You felt a brief moment of confused annoyance as you could see his wound was worse than you'd initially thought, but it didn't take long for you to parse out why he might not be amenable to accepting care from a non-ghoulified person he'd never met before.
As he set to working, he turned his back fully towards you. Initially it stung, feeling like a rejection, but then you realized he was giving you privacy, waiting for you to change out of your pants. The task was tough alone, and you were more than once tempted to ask him for assistance, but decided against it for fear of making him uncomfortable. Eventually, you managed to wrestle your way into the thing, your curves somewhat making up for the length you couldn't quite fill out, the rest solved with some rudimentary cuffing. When you finished, you settled back onto the floor, studying your traveling companion's posture as he readjusted his seat to face the door.
It wasn't an unfamiliar habit; he spent the majority of nights posted up by the entryway when you camped out in unsecured places like this, occupying the silent hours that passed while you slept with little repairs, polishing your guns, whittling small carvings, all while keeping one eye out. You'd never seen him sleep.
There was never a moment when Raul didn't seem a bit on-edge. Sure, there were nights where things felt easier, where you could convince him to step away from his post and settle in with you just a little. You'd have a drink or two, play some cards, swap stories; you loved seeing his playful, more confident side come out, unhindered by his frequent self-effacement. Once or twice, more recently, you'd swapped a few kisses, though that kind of small physical gesture had been a long time coming. The memory made you smile, though it quickly faded from your face as you took in his rigid spine, the way the smallest noise seemed to grab his attention. Teetering closer and closer to sleep, the analgesic you'd been given wrapping your brain in a heavy fog, the iron tang of remorse in your mouth was the last sensation you took in before giving yourself over to unconsciousness.
The sun had barely begun to peek in through the holes in the roof when you awoke again, groggy and sore. You struggled to sit up, grasping around blindly for one of your crutches as your leg and bladder pestered you in an annoying duet.
"Need help, boss?" a familiar voice came from the corner.
"Nah, I got it." you reassured, managing to pull yourself to your feet without humiliation. Making your way around the old counter top, you took in the sight of him, his old coat splayed out in his lap as he worked away at the bullet hole in the lapel with an old needle and some thread.
"Your poor jacket's already been through quite a bit." you noted as you moved close enough that your bodies nearly touched. You bent a little to allow your fingers to run along several other patched-up holes and re-done seams that decorated the thing.
"Did your pants, too. They're hanging up over there." he said, gesturing towards one of the other shelves with his chin as his hands continued to work. "They're wet; cleaned them as best as I could. For people who keep bighorners around, they sure don't have much open water here."
You smirked at the image in your mind of him creeping around Goodsprings in the middle of the night, seeking out an open trough to do a little laundry in.
"Thanks." you said earnestly, shuffling your weight a bit between the crutches and your good leg. "Could you hop up? I gotta go to the bathroom."
He didn't offer more assistance as you passed by, holding the door for you instead, but you could tell he was tempted. Instead, he waited outside for you to finish up, helping you up the little stoop back into the building when you came back around the corner. You could feel his eyes on your back (maybe your backside) as you hobbled along; if things had been a tad less awkward, you'd have cracked a joke, asked him how he liked the look of it on you.
Flirted a little.
"So, how's it feeling?" he asked, helping you lower yourself into the chair he'd been using.
"It's sore, but not terrible or anything. How's your shoulder?"
"Fine, boss. It was just a through and through, so it's basically gone already." he answered, not pulling away as you leaned in close to try and inspect the area. Granted, you couldn't see much through his clothing, but it felt nice to be so near him, the air between the two of you much less heavy than it had been the night before. However, you knew that both of you could feel the slight discomfort that lingered.
"Think you could stand a little move? Not sure this is the best place to sleep another night." he followed up, his voice tinted with unease as he leaned against the old sales counter.
Casting another glance around, your brain ran a bit faster trying to determine exactly which factor about the place had made him come to that conclusion. True, he didn't usually like to spend too much time in settlements where no other people like him lived, but the folks of Goodsprings were by and large accepting of or indifferent to ghouls. Perhaps the shoddy roof of the place made him uneasy. You knew there were also cazador nests somewhere near town, one of the reasons the journey from there to Vegas often took most people so long, despite how physically close the two places were. Maybe he'd seen signs of them and gotten spooked. The idea of relocating somewhere a little more comfortable certainly didn't bother you. Besides, you didn't feel like dealing with the flying blights, either.
"I can handle that. We can check out a place I know on the other end of town." you agreed, rising carefully and moving towards your makeshift bed to gather it up. "I can walk there, though."
With your back turned, you missed the way he shook his head in silent disagreement.
It was slow going along the patchy, sometimes rudimentary road. Raul kept to your side, afraid you'd fall at any moment, both of your bags draped across his back. The pair of you cut behind Trudy's place to avoid drawing too much attention, the sun moving higher in the sky and the town beginning to show what little signs of life it could produce. Things were uneventful, save for one or two bark scorpions that scuttled by. As you passed the big hill the cemetery sat upon, the terrain became a lot looser, rockier, and the man beside you paused to look at you as the grade began to decline.
"I can still walk." you insisted, passing him as you began to descend the small decline into the shallow gully behind the saloon. He didn't stop you, but kept a hand on your elbow the entire time, ready to snatch you up if needed. The coyotes that seemed to run this part of the Mojave watched you from a silent distance.
You hadn't been technically incorrect; you were able to walk fairly unencumbered, but you'd vastly underestimated how strenuous doing so on crutches would be on the terrain, how quickly you'd tire. Trying your best to keep your breathing steady, you could feel yourself breaking a fairly substantial sweat as the air around you continued to warm. The hard upper padding of the crutches also dug painfully into your underarms, but the more you tried to hold yourself up off of them, the harder properly walking was. You could see the massive cross on the horizon, though, only a few dozen yards ahead, and you tucked your chin and tried to tough it out.
However, after only another minute or two, you had to stop for just a moment, panting heavily as you wiped your face on the jumpsuit's sleeve.
"Boss, just lemme carry you." Raul insisted.
"It's fine! It's right there. I can make it." you said, pointing towards the rickety little building that hugged the rocks near the base of the looming statue. However, he paid no mind to your protests, stooping low for a split second to scoop you up into his arms.
"Raul! Your shoulder!" you protested, scrambling to balance yourself as he re-jigged you in his grip until you were cradled securely.
"It's fine! It's right there!" he smirked slyly, making quick work of closing the gap between you and the ramshackle place. Too exhausted to fight back much more, you settled, clinging to him lightly and blushing at how strong he was. Soon, you were passing by the eerie monument, many of the names that had once been inscribed into it impossible to read now. Its long shadow, however, was welcome, providing some relief from the already rather scorching heat in its darkness.
He sat you down on your feet to check inside the place, not unwise since it was a known pit stop for some, but seemed satisfied with what he'd seen. You waited patiently to the side, assuming he'd hold the door open for you when he was done, but instead he grabbed you back up, sending you squealing in surprised glee as he carried you over the threshold and into the dim little room. Feeling emboldened, though sweaty, you clung to him a bit when he sat you down once more, smiling up at him.
"You're sweet." you said, studying his face as he stared back at you with those milky eyes of his.
"I try." he replied jokingly, letting his hand linger for a split second on your hip before letting it fall back to his side.
For a beat, there was silence between you, almost comfortable, but not quite.
"I'm sorry." you blurted suddenly, unable to hold it in anymore. "About last night. I didn't mean to worry you."
"Eh, you know me, boss. I'm just a worrier. Glad you're okay, though." he shrugged in reply, his face not moving enough for you to read it.
"Still, I don't wanna worry you more. I trust you to keep me safe. Next time I'll listen to you."
He laughed in response to that, but there was no humor in it. It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but couldn't. You didn't press.
After that, the both of you set to looking the place over a little closer, testing the sink and toilet in the corner to see if they still worked (blessedly, they did, as much as anything worked, at least), righting the overturned table in the middle of the room. The fire that usually burned in the barrel against the wall had long grown cold, a good sign that no one had been utilizing the place recently. That gave you enough confidence to unpack a bit, pull your boots off and slouch onto the discolored cream couch beside the old reloading bench, the crutches leaned against the table. Your painkiller had long worn off, and your still-healing leg throbbed.
You'd intended to sleep here one more night before setting back out to finish your business; after all, the only reason you'd dragged yourself out this far was to deliver something you'd come across for Trudy, some desperately wanted parts for her beloved radio that she'd pay pretty generously for. However, the longer you rested, the better the place seemed, and eventually you figured that a few days off wouldn't kill you, especially if you wanted your wound to heal properly.
You both rested a while, Raul excusing himself outside once or twice to check the outer perimeter of the place. Curled up on the sofa with a scavenged book, you eventually began to eyeball the bed near the door. Generally, you slept on the floor in temporary shelters like this, burned one too many times by contaminated, dirty mattresses across the Mojave. However, a longer duration of stay than usual gave you plenty of time to inspect the thing for anything crawling or seeping. Plus, you truly did want Raul to join you if you could make it happen, and you felt bad at the idea of making him get down on the floor with the way his knees and back often bothered him. When you didn't find anything blatantly offensive, you unzipped your bedroll all the way, laid it out over the whole thing, and crawled under the dirty improvised blanket you kept tucked up inside for a long nap.
The next several days passed nice and slow, full of time spent occupying yourselves and one another. For the first night or two, Raul couldn't be pulled away from his post near the door, but he was conversational, at least; your apology had seemed to resonate with him well enough despite his strange reaction to it. However, after that, he started to open up more and more to the idea of taking some genuine leisure time with you, moments of closeness you found yourself increasingly wanting for. One night, you played Caravan until some obscene hour, cracking jokes and trying to outdo one another's snark. The next, you taught him a few word games you'd learned as a child, and he'd taught you some card game you highly suspected he was making up on the spot.
The night after that was almost unbearably stuffy inside, so bad that you opted to extinguish the fire you'd re-lit and use a lantern instead. Still, the inside of the small cabin was oppressively hot, so you propped the door open and sat outside on the rickety stoop, hip-to-hip, sharing a sarsaparilla and looking up at the stars as you waited for the place to cool. Seizing the moment when it felt right, you kissed him again, and he let you easily, his hand clasping yours as you traded pecks. You'd almost asked him to join you in the bed that night, but you were afraid it would come across as too forward, so you held your tongue, watching him fiddle with things at the reloading bench as you drifted off alone. In your inky unconsciousness, you dreamt of him splayed out across that awful off-white couch, lying flat as you rode him. You swore you could still feel his hands on your breasts when you awoke, and it made it hard to look directly at him, your cheeks burning.
The next day, you felt well enough to walk into town and deliver the parts to Trudy, who asked you about your interesting arrival a few days prior. Word sure did spread fast when only a dozen or so people lived in a place. You showed her your newest battle wound, hiking the looser leg of the jumpsuit you still wore most days up high so she could see. She'd given a low whistle in response, half-joking that next time they may have better aim. She'd still been grateful for the parts, and the amount of caps she'd paid you almost made the bullet in the leg worth it.
When you'd left the saloon, you'd turned back west and climbed the small slope up to Doc Mitchell's, dragging along the blasted crutches. You'd been finished with them for days, and you wanted to return them, hoping someone else could get some use out of them the next time he had an emergency on his hands. He, too, had been grateful, offering to check you over before you left.
"I'm glad it's looking better." he'd said as he'd walked you to the front door when he'd finished. "By the way, how's your friend's shoulder?"
"It's fine now." you replied. "Advanced healing and all that, y'know. Sorry he was sort of cold to you. He's had bad experiences in the past."
"I understand that. People can be so cruel to folks they don't understand. But please tell him that next time he needs help, if he's in the area, that he can always come here. Far as I understand, ghoulification doesn't stop bleeding out."
You nodded, smiling warmly at the kind older man.
"I'll tell him, Doc. Thanks again." you said, making your way out the door.
With that, you set yourself on the path back to the old abandoned shack, all those four-legged eyes watching you from the hills as you made your way up the short incline at the far end of the road. Just as you crested the small peak at the foot of the old Yangtze memorial, a single shot rang out, and you kicked your speed up double-time in concern, your thigh protesting immediately. However, when you made your way to where Raul stood, you found him re-holstering his gun smoothly, his entire demeanor quite calm.
"Just a radscorpion. Not even a big one." he said as he turned to you.
"Oh, good." you responded, stopping to massage your pink, still-raised scar. You didn't mention that sometimes there were big ones in the area; they weren't the worst things in the world to dispatch if you had help, so you kept that little bit of knowledge to yourself.
That evening was especially quiet, Raul working away at some sort of gun modification he'd been experimenting with over your last few trips. You curled up at the end of the couch nearest the bench, watching him quietly, attentively. Lovingly. All the time alone, not focused on covering as much road as possible or watching your backs, had made you realize how much you truly cared for him, wanted to be even closer.
You really wanted tonight to be the night.
It felt a little embarrassing to feel as nervous as you did to broach the subject, the problem only growing as the hour grew later and later. Settled deep into your spot, you gave a little yawn at one point just as the place had begun to cool, no more sunlight filtering in through the tiny cracks in the walls. He smirked at you in silent reply, looking over at you from his task for a quick moment. It made you roll your eyes playfully; he got far too much satisfaction out of teasing you when you got sleepy.
Keeping your head high, you pulled yourself up to your feet and moved closer to the center of the room, allowing for the space you needed to do your nightly stretches. Being ready to run or fight at any moment without strain had saved your life more than once, so it was a habit that had stuck firmly. You'd been limited in what felt safe to do without aggravating your leg for a few days, so now that things felt nearly back to normal, there was a tightness lingering in your muscles that was usually only there after a long, long day of hiking through the heat. It lent to longer, deeper stretches, reaching towards the floor as you stood bent over at the waist.
Raul enjoyed your stretches as much as you did. More, if the feeling of his eyes burning into you as you went about each form was anything to go by. The pair of you exchanged a few jokes, quips about the day as you finished up readying yourself for sleep, peeling out of your boots and sweeping your hair up and away from your face. By the time you sat on the lip of the rusty frame, the individual springs easy to feel through the thin padding of the mattress, you were nervous he'd pick up on the strange vibe, trying your best to steel yourself.
For the briefest moment, you nearly chickened out, tucking yourself beneath your thin blanket and curling up on your side facing him, ready to close your eyes and drift off dissatisfied. But you concentrated, tracing your gaze over his lean, broad-shouldered frame from the back, the only bit of him you could see as he continued to stoop over the wooden desk, movements soft and quiet. You took a steadying breath, drawing in deep the familiar smell of machine grease, old books, and gunpowder that followed the older ghoul.
"Come cuddle with me a while, eh, handsome?" you called, trying your best to not sound timid.
Pausing, he turned his whole chair most of the way to look at you, the glint in his eyes tough to decipher. You were only a bit surprised when he actually gave in and rose from the little table, stretching a somewhat dramatic arc into his obviously protesting back and shrugging the rather dirty overcoat from his shoulders. Smiling as he made his way closer, you scooted a little closer to the wall, taking advantage of what little extra space the full-sized mattress allowed to make room for him. It was clear his long-lived body was stiff as he maneuvered himself in beside you, but he continued to move closer until your knees were touching. Your heart raced at his new proximity. The improvised pillow you were using, crafted out of your wadded up jacket, wasn't big enough to share, so he propped his head up slightly on his hand.
Briefly, you simply soaked in the new feeling of being all snuggled up like this, both quiet and sneaking little smirking glances at one another. Your eyelids, however, continued to grow heavy.
"Whatcha think about heading out tomorrow, maybe some time before it gets too hot?" you asked eventually, allowing yourself the indulgence of running your hand softly across his chest, grasping for something to say.
"Sounds good to me, boss." he responded, smiling contently.
You wanted to say more, to scoot a little closer to him and see if he felt comfortable sharing a kiss or two, but the room had grown so dark that it was almost hard to make out the details of him, even as close as he was, and it made it nearly impossible to keep your eyes open. When they rested, you fought hard to remain awake, listening to all the little sounds around you and studying his slight movements. Such effort proved useless quickly, as it was a losing battle.
It was tough to tell how long you'd been sleeping when your eyes popped open again a while later, but you were pleasantly surprised to feel Raul still behind you, figuring he would have returned to his seat at the reloading bench after you drifted off.
"Are you asleep?" you whispered, quiet but playful, completely expecting the response that came from behind you just a second later.
"Nah. Are you?"
That earned a chuckle from you, and the sound made him smile behind you.
"Kinda figured you'd have gone back to your chair since I so rudely interrupted what you were doing earlier."
He laughed again, softer, at that.
"I'm pretty comfy here, boss." he murmured, the 'boss' tacked on at the end after just a moment too long, like he'd forgotten it. You turned your head back his way, ready to tell him that he didn't have to call you that anymore, something you'd informed him of previously. However, before you could speak, you were interrupted by the surprise of him actually pulling you a little closer, your chest flush against his own and his arm around your waist.
Caught off-guard, you stared up at him quietly for a few moments, his own gaze reflected back at you, but with a shaky edge that felt like he, too, might look away at any moment. Feeling a heat creeping up your neck and into your cheeks before hiding your face under his chin, you planted a couple of soft, fairly chaste kisses there. Your desire to show him affection didn't mean you needed to be pushy, and you tried your best to be mindful of that.
"I'm glad you're comfy." you replied, just to have something to say, anything to distract you from the heat you felt building in your gut at how close he was holding you. It had already felt like quite a big deal when he'd become comfortable enough to let you kiss him sometimes, so him initiating this much contact seemed significant. Nevertheless, you didn't want to press your luck.
Trying your best to go back to sleep, you flipped onto your other side so the two of you were in a proper spooning position, facing the wall. You placed your right hand over his where it rested near your navel, softly stroking the back of his scarred palm as you settled back onto the folded jacket. Things were quiet once more, what would have been a comfortable silence if you could think about anything other than the feeling of his warm, firm body behind you, the way he was holding you so close like it was the most natural thing in the world.
A minute or two passed, nothing but the sound of sand scratching by the old worn metal door with the breeze and the occasional creak of the shack's half-circle frame, his lone hand playing absentmindedly along your waistline through the jumpsuit. The heavy material of the thing made you feel increasingly warm as his hand continued along its set path. Despite your efforts, the excitement you felt at his closeness was too great to overcome, and sleep evaded you.
"If you ever need it back, just ask. I may lend it to you." you joked, one eye sliding open to peek at him. "It's pretty useful."
He smiled down at you, propped up a bit higher on his shoulder as the arm he laid on began to pet gently at the ends of your hair. His response took a moment longer than you were anticipating, but you kept silent, a reaction that continued in surprise when he replied, humming:
"Eh, it looks better on you anyway. I might like to take it off you, but you can keep it."
After a blink or two of frozen excitement, you turned your head as you giggled at his bawdy words, a bit surprised at his boldness and hiding the resulting flush in your cheeks against the filthy mattress. Raul also chuckled at his own quip, though only for a moment, the sound dying down as he softly pressed his lips to the exposed side of your throat.
You tried your best to not freeze up, hoping to not accidentally come across as uncomfortable in your genuine shock at the further initiation from him. Seemingly, you succeeded, as he placed a further line of kisses from the spot on your neck that made you squirm to below your ear. You swallowed back a groan, though barely, goosebumps raising sharply all over your body. Unfortunately, you weren't lucky enough to pull it off twice; the gentle scratch of his scant facial hair inside the crook of your neck tickled in just the right way, and the resulting sound that broke free from your slightly parched throat was downright unseemly.
"Sorry." you muttered, embarrassed at your lack of control. But when you moved to pull yourself away a bit, to give him a few inches of space where you weren't imposing yourself on him, his arm actually caged you in, the other slipping beneath you, holding you gently in place; you could've detached if you continued to try, but his embrace made it clear that he didn't want you to go anywhere.
"Don't be." he replied, his lingering hand flattening against your belly and slowly, slowly sliding upwards, following the middle seam of the jumpsuit. You held still, letting him touch you how he wanted, nervous you'd frighten him away with the wrong response. Carefully, his palm smoothed up your rib cage until it met the underside curve of your breast, hesitating before brushing against it softly.
"This okay?" he asked quietly, and you nodded clearly in response, tongue already tied into a fat knot as your heart raced.
Carefully, you let your left hand move up to rest on top of his, cupping it and pressing it closer to you, allowing you both a more substantial feel. He hummed, low and deep in his throat, in response. For a few minutes, he groped around your chest gently, carefully exploring how his touches would make you react. The hand that sat tucked beneath your body wriggled its way out the front, giving the other side near-equal attention. You couldn't feel that much through the multiple layers of clothing you wore, but the pressure against your sensitive nipples made them stiffen eagerly, his increasingly heavy breathing tickling in your ear and zapping down your spine in a way that set you to quickly wriggling against him, seeking out more stimulation. It was the only sound you could hear besides the occasional crackle of the once-more burning fire.
Things briefly paused again when his fingers moved up even further, grasping at the zipper that sat at the base of your throat. You shuddered as you repeated your move from before, wondering just how far he was going to take things as both of you worked the metallic fastener down. Letting him lead, the thing was tugged down to your waist, your well-worn undershirt exposed.
He seemed to be gaining courage as things ticked along, not waiting for you to guide his hand inside the now unzipped suit, tracing over your chest, squeezing experimentally at the mass of your breast. It was your own turn to hum pleasantly, arching your back to press your chest closer against his hand, your rear closer against his body until they were lightly touching. Time sort of faded into the background as you moved closer and closer, his touch eventually making its way beneath the hem of your shirt. Like when he'd first touched you, he faltered a bit, lingering along the warm, soft skin of your stomach, hesitant to dive too deep. Tucking your lower lip between your teeth to distract yourself, you let the curve of your ass rub against him, ever-so-slightly grazing him as you moved your hips back and forth.
That bit of motion seemed to ease whatever uncertainties he was feeling in that moment, as he ran both hands fully over your ratty brassiere, slipping them beneath the band to gently, gently peel the thing up. A shudder ran up your spine at both the sensation of the momentary pinch at your nipples and the growing chill in the room. You let out a quiet, truncated moan, however, when you felt him touch your bare chest for the first time, one hand cupping each breast. He was still behind you, his hands barely moving at first, almost like he was studying the feeling of them; it made you want to giggle, but you held back, trying to match his placidity.
The patience you'd forced out of yourself was soon rewarded, as he began to gently knead at the flesh beneath his palms, letting his fingers start to gently pinch at your nipples when you sighed in pleasure. He teased you a bit, alternating the pressure of between a very light touch and a firm tweak, the latter of which sent your hips bucking back firmly into his. Though it felt like it should have been impossible at that point, your face heated up even further and you instinctively tried to pull away, but before your apology could fully form in your throat, his left hand quickly moved down to grasp your hip, keeping you pulled flush against him.
Though it was slight, almost undetectable through the haze, his hips were undulating back against your ass.
The hand that remained up your shirt had stopped moving, his mind seemingly drawn to other points on your body. His lips returned to the side of your throat, this time choosing a spot beneath your ear and latching on, sucking and delicately brushing his tongue along what he could hold in his mouth, while his other hand continued to grip your hip, firm but not hard. Quickly, those fingers were on the move again, jumping up to your navel to grip the tongue of the zipper once more, pulling it down the rest of the way.
The more he gave you, the less you tried to move against him, convinced that any wrong step or sound would convince him that he was doing something improper, that you didn't want this, need this as badly as you did. You let plenty of small noises slip, though, wanting to encourage him; his name rolled right off your tongue when he reached back into the jumpsuit, nimble fingers gently tracing down your bare thigh. He must've been rather taken in by the sound of it, burying his face into your hair affectionately as he let the back of his hand trace along your still-clothed mound.
"Oh." you sighed as he gently pressed against your swollen, aching clit through your damp underwear. The sound drew out a sigh of his own, and he tucked his face against your neck, pressing his lips to your nape as he softly stimulated you. Off in the near distance, a coyote call split the air, mixing in with the sounds of snapping flames and harsh breaths.
It genuinely surprised you when he hooked his thumb into the band, slyly sliding his hand all the way into your panties. His movements no longer held that hesitant edge, replaced with a certain calculatedness. Gasping, you instantly set to attempting to fuck yourself on his hand, your entire pelvis rocking and dipping in an attempt to better find his fingers, to place them where you wanted them. However, he was persistent and still much stronger than you, carefully holding you still by placing a little bit of his weight onto your hip, nuzzling your cheek in an attempt to mollify you.
Your efforts to remain quiet were quickly degrading, huffs and quiet whimpers punctuating the increasing amount of wriggling you were doing against him. He certainly didn't seem to mind, continuing to rut rhythmically against your backside. Pushing back against him more firmly, you could somewhat feel the shape of him tucked into the cleft of your ass, though not as clearly as you'd expected. Fleetingly, you wondered if being a few centuries old and plied with radiation made it difficult to get it up, but you decided it didn't matter as long as he kept doing what he was doing with his hands, another sharp sigh leaving your parched mouth.
His thumb strummed easily at your clit, the rough pad deliciously stimulating as his other fingers gently explored the rest of your sex. Occasionally, one or two would swipe down to feel around your entrance, but they never pushed inside, providing a teasing pressure all too close to where you wanted it most. The way he moved against you indicated a fair amount of prior experience, but the way he hesitated slightly as he did so showed a lack of confidence nonetheless. If you'd had enough blood feeding your brain, you might've pondered how long it had been since he'd been with someone, who that someone might've been; instead, all you could wonder was how much longer you'd be able to hold out.
It turns out, the answer was "not long" as a few more kisses and light licks along your nape were more than enough to make your gut flutter.
"Raul...fuck, I'm gonna cum." you groaned throatily, your words fighting their way through the growing haze of your impending orgasm.
The man behind you huffed out his response in a rushed, airy tone, but the words were in choked-up Spanish, and you couldn't understand them. His strokes to your swollen peak didn't falter, however, maintaining that same pace and rhythm perfectly as he forced you all the way over the edge. Your entire core clenched almost painfully tight as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over you, your thighs clasping possessively around the old vaquero's hand as you rubbed against it, drawing out your high as long as possible. He was groaning lowly, his face buried deep into your hair as he continued to grind against you. The grip he'd maintained around your breast with his other palm tightened absentmindedly, and the added sensation drew a sharp cry from you that reverberated through the whole shack.
A moment later, there came a scraping sound against one of the outer walls, somewhat near the door, and everything seemed to freeze.
Raul's touch disappeared from your body, pulling himself away and upright so quickly you barely saw it. As he stared down the junky door intensely, one hand rested on his hip, lying in wait right atop the pistol you hadn't realized he'd still been wearing. Every hair on your body stood on end as you tried your best to reorient yourself, your companion's sudden change in demeanor alarming. However, several long seconds passed with no additional sound other than the pounding of your racing pulse against your temples.
Slowly, with the grace and tension of a great cat about to strike, he rose from the side of the bed and silently made his way to the door, casting a quick glance at you as he cracked the thin door open, peeking outside. Without a word, he slipped out into the dark, and you held your breath, listening close. His steps tracked about halfway towards the nearby memorial monument and he suddenly grunted something out, his tone making everything suddenly feel much less urgent. Every muscle in your body finally began to relax as he reappeared after a moment, giving you a reassuring nod as he shut the thing firmly behind him once more.
"Just one of those coyotes." he told you, though something in his tone left room for doubt. Whether that doubt was merited, you supposed time could only tell.
"I can't believe how much those things breed around here. I saw maybe ten just walking back from Doc's today. That's, like, a couple hundred yard walk. Is there even enough food for them all?"
"Eh, coyotes are scavengers. They'll eat whatever they gotta." he shrugged as he resumed his place on the bed, sitting tall beside you. "Don't worry, though. I won't let them munch on you."
You smirked at his somewhat playful tone, cuddling up just a bit closer to him as you sat up halfway, balanced on your hip and elbow. For a moment or two, things fell silent, though most of the tension that had filled the tiny place before had gone, replaced with familiar warmth tinged with awkwardness. Hesitating a moment, you placed your hand on his knee where it sat curled on the bed, wriggling preemptive embarrassment in your core making goosebumps bloom across your arms.
"Are you gonna think I'm incredibly lame if I ask if you, uh...?" you stammered, unable to quite force the whole question out.
"Nah. Ask me whatever." he smirked, seeming almost relaxed, but not quite. "And no, but that was still nice."
"It sure was." you smiled back, your tone soft as your cheeks warmed a bit, eyes dropping to the bed. A twinge of guilt stung behind your breast at the thought that you hadn't really done anything for him, but he seemed content. He didn't say anything for a beat, studying your face, your swollen lips and increasingly heavy eyelids. Carefully, he reached out and laid his palm against your cheek, those agile fingers lightly stroking your cheekbone. Studying you closely, his words were quiet when he spoke again.
"You should probably get some rest. Didn't you say something about heading out tomorrow?" he asked.
"I guess I did." you replied, settling back down under the thin blanket, a tingle running up your spine as your blood continued to run hotter than usual. You left enough room to your side for him to lie back down, but, to your chagrin, he didn't, instead scooting closer until your bodies touched once more. Swallowing back your protests, unwilling to be greedy, you balled your "pillow" up beneath your head once more and closed your eyes. However, you did allow yourself the indulgence of resting your hand back on his knee, a move he didn't protest. As you began to drift off into a shockingly exhausted sleep, you thought you felt him petting softly at your loose hair.
The air in the little shack was cool and crisp the next morning, the tip of your nose cold against your palms as you smoothed them over your face. The fresh scar that adorned your leg ached in protest at the low temperature, and you rubbed at it for a moment, pulling yourself into a sitting position on the edge of the creaky bed.
"Morning, boss."
You cast your glance into the corner where the rough voice had come from to find the older man back in his usual chair, though he sat turned away from the reloading bench he was usually bent over, clearly using the old holes in the siding of the building to keep watch once again, clearly shaken by the previous night's minute events. A small lump of disappointment formed deep in your stomach at the sight; though you understood he was likely in fine overall health thanks to the incredible healing ability that came with ghoulification, you still worried for him and what the constant state of hypervigilance he seemed to live in could do to him.
The knowledge that he was worried about you and your safety, specifically, only made you feel worse. You didn't consider yourself to be that fast-and-loose with your decision making, rather partial to living, but all the care and caution in the world couldn't change the face that the Mojave was simply a dangerous place. Raul, more than anyone you'd ever met, knew how much peril and uncertainty lurked around each corner, how easy it was to lose those who meant the most to you in the blink of an eye. As much as you wanted to reassure him that he didn't need to worry about you so much, beg him to let his guard down for a moment, you knew that you'd be both cruel and a liar to do so.
"Morning, baby." you replied, swallowing back the guilty lump in your throat and dropping the shiny new pet name into the conversation as if it were nothing. A correction without a correction.
As you moved to pull the scant blanket from your lap, you noticed his overcoat tucked in among the folds of it, nestled in where he must've laid it over you.
"Got cold last night." he said, eyeing you boldly as you pulled yourself to your feet and set to righting your clothes. The outer jumpsuit was still unzipped almost all the way down, your clothes underneath displaced and tucked strangely from the way he'd pushed everything aside, and you worked rather quickly to right it all. Though, you allowed your hands to trace over your curves in some places, stealing a glace or two at him as you did. His eyes didn't leave you, but he did shift a bit in his chair.
"Sure seems like it." you replied, trying your best to smooth some of the wrinkles out of the jumpsuit. Gathering up the coat from the bed, you shook it out gently before crossing the small gap between the bed and the bench, tucking the worn brown leather over the back of the chair carefully. You leaned down slowly as you finished, wrapping your arms around his rather broad shoulders from behind, keeping your movements steady so as not to unpleasantly surprise him.
"Hi." you smiled, leaning far enough forward over him that you could see one another's faces.
"Hey." he chuckled, turning his head as far as his stiff neck would allow.
"Thanks for lending me your coat. Did you get any rest?"
"Oh yeah." he replied, following up when you quirked your eyebrow in doubt with a quick "Just sitting here is resting!"
"You've got to relax to rest, silly." you murmured, letting your hands run gently further down the firm planes of his chest. He tensed palpably at the contact, but you persisted in your soft massaging, keeping your touch delicate. Soon, he sat back fully back into his chair once more, and you rewarded his acquiescence with some soft kisses to his cheek and jaw as the heel of your hand rubbed across his sternum. Raul's eyes fell shut, making him appear deep in concentration. You took the opportunity to study his face closely, running your eyes over the scarred skin, noting every little mark and studying his incredibly scant eyebrows, drawn tight together as you let you palms slip further down over his flat stomach until your fingertips gingerly touched his belt line.
The response you earned with this motion was stronger than before, a brief moment of him squirming in what seemed to be genuine discomfort as his eyes flitted back and forth between your hands and your face. Easing back just a bit, you allowed one hand to move back up to his chest, stroking it comfortingly as the other simply rested along his torso, barely touching the edge of the leather strap. His writhing slowly ceased as you tried your best to soothe him, softly pressing your lips to his temple and cheek, a soft gesture he seemed to really appreciate, leaning into your kisses even as he continued to move decreasingly. For a moment, you sort of awkwardly held him in a half-hug from behind, waiting until he settled fully.
"I wanna help you relax." you whispered into what was left of his ear.
A low groan left his chest at your words, a louder echo following as you let your lips kiss a trail down the side of his throat. His hips arced off the seat just a bit, and you seized the moment to allow your hands to join one another back at his belt buckle.
"You can try, boss." he half-chuckled quietly, his tone a mixture of overstimulation and dismay.
Taking a deep, quiet breath to steady yourself, you let one hand trace lower, groping him through his pants, each small move calculated. Like the previous night, he was nowhere near completely hard despite how strained his breathing was, but you tried your best to not let it affect how you touched him, not wanting to seem like you were judging him. You mirrored his technique from the night before, teasing him while tracing your lips along his throat. While his kisses had been experimental, slowly evolving into measured teases intended to rile you up, your own were sweet, worshipful, lacking expectation. No need to put pressure on him to perform when all you wanted to do was show him how you really felt.
"Mm." he grunted tersely when the hand that wasn't actively groping him started to fiddle with the flexible, well-broken-in leather strap that wrapped around his hips, the relatively large metal buckle cool against your fingertips as they traced along the shape it.
"If you want me to stop, just say so, okay?" you murmured comfortingly as you began to tug the tongue of the belt from where it had been tucked away. Raul had grown uneasily silent, gaze transfixed on the way you manipulated the leather strap. However, when you manipulated the button loose and tenderly wrapped your hand around his shaft for the first time, he looked away, chin sharply pointing towards the wall. His lack of full engorgement made it easier to tug him free of his worn denim trousers.
You gave his length a soft squeeze in your hand, then a firmer one, the latter drawing a quiet rumble from the man sitting before you. That made the corners of your mouth quirk up against his skin.
Feeling him breathe deeply in, you began to stroke him with a rather light grip, letting him acclimate to your touch. His face remained turned away, though you couldn't quite pin down his reasons for refusing to watch. At one point, he grew squirmy, and you pulled you lips off of his skin to avoid overstimulating him, instead resting your chin gently on his shoulder, studying every aspect of his reaction. The hand that had undone his belt moved back to rest on his opposite shoulder, fingers resting softly at his nape. He seemed to enjoy these more static touches, leaning into the light pressure you applied, so you let your whole body still except for the hand around his cock, which was slowly increasing the speed and grip of its strokes.
Though Raul was seemingly uninterested in seeing the scene that was unfolding, you were spellbound, unable to look away from the way his mouth and scant brows contorted, the way his scarred cock reddened at the tip. The old ghoul seemed to be enjoying your attentions thoroughly despite the way his body seemed to protest the pleasure; his spine was so rigid it looked painful, his fingers wrapped around the arm rests of the chair he sat in, but his hips had begun to unconsciously buck into your embrace. He still hadn't grown much harder, despite his obvious excitement, but you didn't care, excited and aroused that you were making him feel good.
You stayed like that a while, continuing to ratchet things up until he was panting and groaning, the sound shooting hot lightening into your gut. Letting your lips wander his throat once more, you gave him a playful scrape with your teeth, and his whole body jolted.
"Ah--" he grunted out in an attempted warning, his grip on the chair arm so tight that you could hear the dry wood splinter. At long last, he turned back to look at you, and his eyes were wide and wet.
"Oh, baby. Let go." you breathed, struggling to maintain the same pressure and rhythm with your touches in your excitement. You'd never seen him so raw and vulnerable, the almost pained expression on his face making your gut tight.
Though he never did grow harder than maybe halfway, you were beyond pleased when he began to throb and leak in your grip, his head falling back loosely as another moan left him. When he finally lost control, it was as if someone had touched him with a cattle prod, his whole form jumping and tensing rhythmically as he gasped and groaned. He came hard, it seemed, though not much, a few spurting dribbles of slick warmth running down the backs of your fingers as you continued to tug at him gently. You planted more kisses, light as you could place them, along his temple as he shuddered against you.
He let his face rest, neck lax, against your chest, and your clean hand moved to cradle the back of his hairless head. You left your hand wrapped around him, feeling him grow softer as his breathing did the same. Briefly, you thought how nice it would be to get to hold him so close forever.
"Alright, let me clean up and we can get around to packing." you sighed eventually, satisfied with yourself as you moved to straighten up fully. Your back protested a bit as you did, having grown accustomed to the angle you'd been holding it at, the resulting twinge distracting you from the way his hand struck out lightening-quick to grasp you gently around the wrist.
"Lemme help you with that, honey." he said, that worried edge in his gaze softer than you'd ever seen it as he looked up at you. Your free, unsoiled hand moved up to cup his rough cheek, mirroring the way he'd touched you the night before as the energy that radiated from his flesh tingled into your palm. Staring at him for a moment, you felt it safe to lean back in for a kiss, a feeling that was instantly validated when he kissed you back more passionately than ever before. A little gasp left your nose as you felt his own unoccupied hand creep up the back of your thigh, giving a rather playful squeeze to your ass and sending you pulling away giggling.
Maybe you'd resume your travels tomorrow, instead.
#raul tejada#raul tejada x courier#raul tejada x reader#raul tejada smut#raul tejada headcanons#fallout new vegas#fnv#submission
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Soul by roaroftheninth | T | 4772 Liam tosses a grin back over his shoulder. “What are you going to do when I’ve gone and there’s no one around to drive you round the bend?” Louis’ bike coasts to a stop. It happens so slowly that by the time he’s at a standstill, Liam is far ahead, up by the curve. “I’ll forget.” Liam stops much more quickly. They’re alone in the dome; their private conversation can be held across thirty feet of open space. “You’ll what?” Louis watches him. “I’ll forget,” he repeats. “Not the way you forget things, when you can’t pinpoint them but you still carry them in your heart. I’ll just have my hard drive wiped.” Or: Louis is the medical android tasked with taking care of Liam in a world after nuclear war.
Will You Still Call Me Superman by el_em_en_oh_pee | T | 6370 When Harry opens his locker, there's a box wrapped in blue tissue paper, wound messily in a skinny white ribbon, just sitting on top of his textbooks. A piece of paper taped to the top of the box readsTo Harry, Happy Christmas! I noticed how you're always chewing on your pencils in class so I thought this might help! -Your Secret Admir Santa xx In which Harry has an overwhelming crush on Liam, the nicest, coolest guy in school, and his friends aren't very supportive of the pain his crush causes him. The jerks.
we speak in tongues and start to teethe by theamazingpeterparker | G | 8856 There’s a moment, a second, where Liam’s eyes are spitting angry. Bright gold and looking like he’s going to tear Louis’s throat out. And then Louis growls low and tightens his grip on Liam’s neck, leaning close enough that he can lay his sharpened canines on the pulse that’s jack-hammering in Liam’s neck. He could kill him. He could at least bite him, sink his fangs into the soft meat where his neck and shoulder meet as a reminder of who’s pack he’s interfering with, whose turf he’s on. It’s the first time that Louis misses it, for a heartbeat, blood flooding his mouth from more than just a scratch in a fight. Enough blood to satiate the full moon buzzing in his ears. Or, werewolf fight club.
FourFiveSeconds from wildin' by apfelhalm | E | 11366 "What about this one? He doesn't look too bad. I could take on, uh," he stops to look at the name, "Liam. I bet I'd stand a chance against Liam." Liam looks fit, well-trained without being too beefy, and perhaps a bit ridiculous, too, with his gold chain and a bandana hanging from his trouser pocket. He also looks fit fit and if this were a normal dating app, Louis would swipe right in a heartbeat. This isn't a normal dating app, though, and Louis has a bet to win. "So? Are you going to pick him or what?" Harry asks, grinning very much like a predatory shark. Or: the one where Louis and Liam meet through a Tinder-style fighting app.
written in my memory by carissima | M | 21646 Liam turns towards the voice. It sounds a bit like Harry, but deeper somehow. Huskier. He blinks carefully as he stares at Harry, who's half-sitting in the window, staring back at him. Or maybe it's not Harry, he thinks dizzily because this boy is taller, much taller than Harry is. He's also got longer hair, tucked back in a bandana, and he's wearing clothes that Harry would never wear; tight skinny black jeans and a loose black tee, silver chains around his neck hanging loose over his chest. Or the one where Liam has amnesia and he struggles to connect with the boys.
Your Lips On Mine by taecheeks | E | 56139 The situation is weird, like really fucking weird. Liam thought maybe he was hallucinating when he first saw Zayn in their apartment, exhausted from work or something. He thinks about Bradford a lot more than he probably should, always eager for the next time he gets to watch him. But when Niall told him about the other new roommate, Zayn, he never in a million years thought it would be him - even when Niall said Zayn was just his type and had silver hair. [Or the one where Zayn is a camboy, who likes to think about the fit mechanic with a liking for leather jackets and scruffy beards from uni during his shows. And Liam, the mechanic, who realizes his new roommate is Bradford, the man with the smooth skin covered in tattoos that Liam watches late at night with a hand wrapped around himself.]
Floating On The Water by scottmcniceass | M | 58206 Liam just wants to get through his last summer working at Malik Resort before University without incident. Of course, life is never that easy, and he ends up getting roped into giving the bosses son, Zayn, swimming lessons. That wouldn't be so bad, if Zayn didn't happen to hate him so much.
Crawling on Your Shores by juliusschmidt | E | 66631 "You're a mechanic?" Liam nods. Harry gives him another long, appraising look. This time it lingers on his hands. "Your nails are clean." The tips of Liam's fingers tingle. "Got laid off a month ago." "Sorry to hear that." Harry smiles, soft and small. ~ Liam is searching for direction, purpose, connection, and, ultimately, himself. Harry is searching for aliens.
Easy As All That (Go Around A Time Or Two) by sunsetmog | E | 84957 Sometimes the hardest part of growing up is figuring out who you are in the first place. Or: The one where Liam and Louis only kiss when they're on nights out, when it's secret, when there's no one around to see them. If no one knows you're having a sexuality crisis, that means it isn't happening, right? Or, or: Liam accidentally turns Louis' world upside down. A high school sixth form AU.
#liam#Soul#roaroftheninth#Will You Still Call Me Superman#el_em_en_oh_pee#we speak in tongues and start to teethe#theamazingpeterparker#FourFiveSeconds from wildin'#apfelhalm#written in my memory#carissima#Your Lips On Mine#taecheeks#Floating On The Water#scottmcniceass#Crawling on Your Shores#juliusschmidt#Easy As All That (Go Around A Time Or Two)#sunsetmog#fic has brought so many of us together and i'm sending out so much love to everyone. maybe this will help someone in some way.
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An Unfamiliar Place
A/N: Ah yes, my first foray into writing anything Transformers related. No specific characters are mentioned, I'll have to consult the wikis and read the comics before I even try to add any characters.
Also First Contact AU stuff WOOOOOO
Reader is gender neutral.
Word Count: 409
Warnings: SFW, mentions of injuries and blood (no gore tho)
Edit: A version of this that was not written while watching a clown Vtuber can be read here.
Everything was so massive to you, yet familiar. Like you were a doll in a normal sized house. However, there was no time for that. Not with the injuries making you bleed out from so many places you can’t figure out all of them. Clutching at your side, where you 100 percent knew you were bleeding the most, you stumbled your way through the unfamiliar territory.
You had to find somewhere to hide, and hopefully tend to your wounds as well. At least figure out where you got injured during the crash. If anyone’s in here, they’re looking for me. You thought to yourself. Fortunately, you had the gut feeling to have some medical supplies in the several pockets of your jacket and pants that you can patch yourself up with. If you didn’t have that, you’d be fucked.
Limping against a wall, you found a potential place to hide. You weren’t sure how long you could hide before anything detected you, but it’s a place to hide. It looked like a metal crate to you, about the height of a shipping container. There was the slightest gap at the side, which you eagerly shimmied into.
There were glowing pink cubes inside, light enough for you to check your wounds. Lifting up your jacket and shirt, you assessed the damage to your torso.
A decent amount of blood was trickling out. Not flowing as much as before, but still enough to be concerning.
It might’ve dripped on the floor.
The ones here might see the blood, they could find you.
You unzipped the pockets of your jacket, grabbing something, anything, that you could use to cover the hole. Stuffing a large cotton ball inside was the most you could do.
Fortunately, that was pretty much the only injury that needed treatment. It was just scrapes and scratches from what you could see.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Mechanical whirls, growling of machines speaking vowels and consonants. Did they notice blood? From what you could tell, there were at least two speaking. Will they notice you? Will they help you? Or will you die here, succumbing to either your injuries or an infection?
The voices and thumping stopped. Mumbles from the mechanical beings started, then a set of footsteps got closer and closer to where you were. You squeaked, unsure if they’ll even consider trying to help you.
What looked like a finger prodded the gap you entered, then pulled it open.
(Sorry this was super brief, I don't know how to continue this or what characters to include. Hope y'all enjoy this funky thing I wrote at midnight :3)
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Felix kranken x New employee!
(Fem POV)
Fluff/angst/comfort
Tw: alcohol, alcoholism.
To the wonderful person who requested this I am so sorry I wasn’t sure how to insert the weight gain/fat kink hope this is ok tho! 😔💔
Ah, today was the day Bon’s Burgers would welcome a new employee! Felix was excited, eager to give y/n a warm welcome to the crew. As you entered in casual clothing (you hadn’t yet received your uniform), you spotted Felix alone at a table, engrossed in the show. You approached him and took a seat.
“Oh! I, uh, didn’t see you... y/n, right?” Felix jumped slightly, rubbing his tired eyes.
“Yep, that’s me. And you’re Felix, correct?” you asked with a soft, patient smile. He chuckled softly before straightening up, trying to appear more professional.
“This place is really neat; the animatronics are incredible,” you beamed, your admiration evident.
“Y-yeah, I suppose they are,” he replied, glancing over at Bon with a hint of concern before focusing back on you with a regained smile. “Let me give you a quick tour, and then you can start your first shift.” He stood up, hands tucked into his suit pockets.
After the tour, you got to work. Your tasks were simple: maintaining parties and cleaning up around the place. The lively chatter of children filled your ears as you set up a table.
As the day wound down, you met Felix at the door as he began locking up. “See you tomorrow, y/n!” he waved, watching you leave. “God, she’s so cute,” he whispered to himself as he finished locking the last door and headed to his car.
The next day, Felix showed up to work drunk again. Concerned coworkers scolded him, urging him to stop drinking before work and driving under the influence. He slumped down at a table, resting his head and sighing deeply.
“Good morning, Felix! Everything alright?” you asked, noticing his disheveled appearance.
“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, I’m alright,” he slurred, sitting up slowly and rubbing his eyes. His hair was tousled, tie loosened—a complete mess.
“You don’t look okay. Others mentioned you might have a drinking problem,” you frowned, sitting beside him in a supportive gesture. “If something’s bothering you, feel free to share. Only if you’re comfortable, though.” Felix shook his head, placing a hand on his forehead.
“It’s just… things have been tough. I don’t know how to handle it all, so I drink,” Felix choked out, tears welling up. Concerned, you placed your hand over his, prompting him to look at you before turning away awkwardly.
“Drinking isn’t a healthy coping mechanism. When I’m struggling, spending time with people I care about helps,” you smiled gently, softly caressing his hand with your thumb.
“But… nobody here likes me,” Felix sniffled, removing his glasses to wipe his eyes before replacing them.
“Well, I like you,” you giggled softly. “You’re kind, energetic, proud… funny? You’re one of the nicest people I’ve met.” Felix calmed down a bit, his sobs easing as you comforted him.
“Y-you really think so?” Felix mumbled, turning to face you. “I mean… damn… you’re really nice. Thank you.” He smiled sadly before you leaned in and hugged him. Initially tense, he relaxed into your touch.
“You’re welcome,” you hummed softly, giggling at his reaction. The two of you sat there for a bit before separating to your workstations.
I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot!!!
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open wounds
frank castle x gn!reader, ex dating, hurt/comfort, 2404 words
for day 6 of whumpril : salve | painkillers | bad coping mechanisms
warnings for burns, implied suicidal intentions, terrible first aid probably
a/n: yknow when you love a character so much that you dont even know where to start with writing about them?? no?? just me?? im shaking in my boots... also huge shout out to @ashlingiswriting for helping with this!!
tagging: @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa (five times as requested)
He’s dripping wet. Frank, back at your door, for the first time in half a year, and dripping wet from head to toe. His jeans, his hoody, his boots—which must weigh a tonne, if they’re as full of water as the rest of him. He’s scrubbed his face dry, clearly, because the front of his hair is sticking upright, brushed up by the rough of his fingertips, and his cheeks are cleaner than the rest of him. Bare of the grime he’s covered in. If it wasn’t so obviously a bad thing—him being here, him being anything other than his usual self—you might’ve laughed. Might’ve joked about him choosing the worst church for an over-due baptism.
‘What the fuck happened?’ you scoff, bypassing all other greetings. You don’t even spare the thought to be annoyed at him, to tell him to go away, get out of here, before someone sees you. You just balk, and frown, and hang off the door as you look him over. ‘You look like you went free-diving in the river, Frank.’
He doesn’t respond, just sighs and tilts his head as if to say—
‘Oh my God.’ He did. He jumped into the fucking river. ‘That explains the stink, then.’
‘Yup.’
It’s pouring off him. Stale water, oil spill.
‘Look, I gotta ask you a favour,’ he says, awkward about it, though you’d thought as much already. ‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be.’
And you wouldn’t let him in, either, if you didn’t have to.
‘Come in.’ The less time he spends in the corridor, the better. ‘Do I even want to know what you…’ The words fizzle out once you’re behind him, door closed and facing his back.
The material of his hoody has been singed away, not entirely, but across his shoulders and in patches down his spine, the t-shirt beneath in a similar state. He’d been set alight, somehow, long enough for it to burn all the way through. Two layers of cloth and then skin. Red, raw, skin.
‘Jesus, Frank.’
‘Had to put it out somehow,’ he shrugs, ‘seemed like the quickest option.’
‘Do you even realise how much shit is in that river?’
But he must do, of course, because he’s here. He’s not at home, self-medicating, slapping soap and water on it and hoping for the best. He’s here because he’s smart enough to realise bacteria will kill him easier and faster than any bullet would. Which isn’t usual, for most, but he has a knack for surviving no matter how many holes they put in him.
‘Bathroom, please,’ you tell him. You remember where it is.
You watch him nod in front of you, hands tucked in the sodden pockets of his hoody. He’s holding himself rigid—tense arms, straight shoulders—to hide the shakes, you realise. The wet has gotten into the bones, chilled him deep enough to send shivers through the muscles. Why he’s bothering to try and cover it, you don’t know. You’ve seen him in worse shapes.
When he reaches the bathroom, you in tow, he turns and waits. In front of you, on the curling blue bath matt beneath. It’s been a long time since you’d done him a favour. A long time, since you’d been alone with him, for reasons other than why this doesn’t work, why the two of you won’t work.
You sigh, close your eyes. He knows as well as you do what’s coming.
‘Am I in danger,’ you ask, feeling the sick twist of regime in your stomach, the edge of familiarity in the question, ‘by you being here? Is it putting me in danger?’
‘No, no, I promise.’ His head shakes. ‘No-one knows I’m here.’
‘You’re sure?’
He pauses, swallows. Nods. ‘It’s just me.’
‘And is it only the burns? Nothing else?’
‘I’d do it myself, but I,’ his teeth chatter, ‘I can’t reach.’
‘Okay.’ No surprise gunshot wounds, no broken bones. You can handle it, as long as you know what to expect. ‘I’ll do my best,’ you tell him, now you know it isn’t at your detriment, and turn to look through the cabinet above the sink.
‘Thank-you,’ he begins, which you try to wave off. ‘No, I mean it, I—I know you must hate…’ The words get away from him. A drop of water shakes from the peak of his hair onto his cheek. ‘Yeah, just, thank-you.’
You know what he’s implying. He’s as wrong about it now as he was then.
‘I don’t hate you, Frank.’
‘Well, you don’t like me much,’ he grumbles. ‘Not that I blame you.’
You don’t like his choices. You don’t like his instincts. You don’t like his susceptibility to getting himself in trouble, once a fucking week. ‘Take this off,’ you tell him, tugging at the sopping wet of his sleeve. ‘You’re shivering.’
He complies, jaw-setting as he pulls both the hoody and t-shirt over his head, no doubt having to rip the burnt-fibres from the edges of his wounds. He does well to hide it—if that’s the case—removes them without a hiss of pain, or any hesitation. The wet lump of them lands on the tiles with a slap, water splattering over your socks.
You fill the sink, making sure it’s lukewarm, cool. It’d be better to douse him with hot water, really, to stop the shivers and get rid of the smell, but the burns are more pressing. The very last thing they need is more heat.
‘Jeans and socks too. Then sit on the bath,’ you instruct before leaving the room. It isn’t for privacy’s sake, but to get your blanket from the couch and a clean towel from the closet. Get him warm, get the site disinfected, then cover it in Saran wrap and hope for the best. It isn’t as good as real, authoritative, medical treatment, but it’s better than he could manage by himself.
When you’re back, he’s done as you said again, and is sitting on the edge of the bath in just his boxers. A sorry sight, long past the invitation that it used to be. You’re sure there’s scars there that you aren’t familiar with, across his chest, below his naval, but there isn’t time to inspect them. He’s shaking still, and looking up at you like he’s sorry to occupy the space at all.
‘You ever treated burns?’ he asks, as you hand him the blanket.
‘Nothing like that,’ you admit. ‘Spin.’
He does. You put the towel on the floor beneath his back, where the drips will be, as he drapes the blanket over his lap. He isn’t shy about it now, how cold he is. He pulls the edge of the throw up to his chin, tucking his arms inside it, and gives a bigger, exaggerated shiver afterwards. Like he’s purging it, and inviting warmth to take it’s place now that it’s out.
Without the clothes, the burns look dangerous. Red and angry, almost the print of a cross over his back, with the worst of them sitting in a thick strip along his shoulder blades.
‘What even…?’ You brush a thumb by the edge of it, bending down to get a closer look; it’s not just a burn, but a scrape too, a layer of skin torn off like he’s been dragged over tarmac. ‘What happened, beyond the fire?’
You don’t mean the order of events that led to it, or the reasoning behind him shouldering fire in the first place—you’re long past caring or asking about his endeavours. Anything that ends in a list of dead bodies, people he’s killed, is none of your business. That stopped being your problem, the same time he did. But the longer you look, the less it seems like a simple, standard burn. The less you know about how to treat it.
Frank grunts, head dipped. ‘Over-estimated a jump. Slipped off a, a wall, going into the river.’
You wince. ‘Yeah, looks like you left a bit of your back attached to it.’
He puffs out through his nose. ‘That bad?’
Not by his standards, you’re sure. ‘Well. I think it’s saved you from the worst of the blistering, at least.’ The smaller scalds will, no doubt, tonight or tomorrow, but the wide abrasion across the top might have saved him from something more severe. ‘I don’t think you’re supposed to put cream on them,’ you say, ‘but I’ve got an antiseptic spray that I think will be worth the risk.’ And the pain. ‘Okay?’
‘Yeah,’ he agrees, without hesitation, ‘do what you gotta do.’
When you start at it with the water, poured slow from a mug and onto his back, he hisses. Sucks breaths in and out between the clench of his teeth, regulates the pain for your sake alone, you’re sure, and you can bare that. You can work while he does that, quiet and dedicated.
But when you move onto the spray, he swears, low and rasping, like he hates you for a moment. Like he’s angry at you, the antiseptic, the base of the bath that he thumps with his heel.
‘I’m sorry,’ you put quickly, unable to ignore it. ‘This is the worst part.’
Maybe bad enough, really, that you shouldn’t be doing it at all. In the grand scheme of things, agitated burns are better than infection, right? Better than leaving whatever germs live in the Hudson, to fester in the scrapes of his skin.
‘Keep going,’ he insists, through the clench of his jaw—so you do, grimacing each time he swears and flinches under you.
By the time it’s done, dried and wrapped, you’re both exhausted. Him more than you, that you can admit. He sits quietly on the bath now, waiting for the painkillers you’d promised. It’s the first time he hasn’t tried to convince you that he doesn’t need them.
‘Here.’ You hand him the pills, the glass of water. Watch him swallow them both, before sitting beside him, facing the opposite way. Shoulder to shoulder. ‘I think that’s about all I can do for you,’ you say, glancing at his waiting gaze.
He’s got his head turned towards you, dark eyes only inches away. You can’t match them for long. You’re looking back at the pile of wet clothes on the floor before you speak again.
‘If it shows any sign of infection, Frank.’
He puts the glass down, head shaking in the edge of your vision. ‘I’m not going to a hospital. I can’t.’ He’s dead already, he means, and waltzing into the ER would ruin the only leg-up he has.
‘Then someone who knows more than me, at least,’ you insist. ‘You can’t do any of your righteous, vigilante bullshit with sepsis, you know.’
‘I know,’ he says, and he means it. Sounds sore about it too, regretful, even. Not because of his health, but because of what it would take from him.
You let him sit with that for a moment, watching him drop the blanket from his shoulders and put his hands over the top of it instead, pooling in his lap. The shaking’s stopped now; without the wet clothes, and in the warmth of your home, it didn’t take long to scare them away. After the ordeal you put him through, he’s sweating instead. Damp across his brow.
‘Why d’you do it?’ you ask, though you’d told yourself long ago that you would stop asking him that. Stop wasting your breath on something that would never change.
‘Do what?’ He looks like he might laugh, glancing sideways at you, like he’s itching to say, you think I toasted myself on purpose? But it’s over-compensation, really. He knows what you mean.
‘Put yourself in these fucking situations, every time…’ You sigh. ‘You had a chance to get out, Frank. To start fresh.’
But why bother saying it to him? You know the answer as soon as it comes from your lips. You know what makes him do it. You know he can’t function otherwise. If bad coping mechanisms had a poster boy, he would be it. If self-hatred and self-pity was a competition, he’d win. He would lap everyone before they’d even got off the mark.
‘You’ve got to retire at some point,’ you tell him, which sounds like a plea you hadn’t aimed to give.
He scoffs, shaking his head. His thumbs toy with the edge of the blanket. ‘You know it doesn’t work like that.’
Not for him, that’s the truth, and it snowballs in your head until you say, ‘You’re gonna keep going until something kills you, aren’t you?’
He doesn’t answer, because he can’t do that either. Admitting it aloud, to himself or to you, would make it real. Undeniable.
‘Well,’ you start, bending the conversation into something liveable again, ‘you’re lucky your ex is so good at first aid.’ You shoulder him, lightly, smiling until he smiles back. Just enough.
‘Yeah,’ he breathes, ‘yeah, I am.’ He considers you for a moment, before tucking his chin and looking to his hands. ‘I didn’t think you’d be so,’ he hesitates, searching for the word.
‘Willing?’
He nods. ‘Thought I’d have to talk you into it.’
You snort, a real smile creeping onto your lips. ‘Would you have begged if I asked you to?’
‘I don’t know.’ His brows pinch together, thick and sorry-looking. ‘Would you have turned me away if I didn’t?’
‘No,’ you realise, because you had patched him up too often to let him suffer now. The blood on your hands has to have been worth something. ‘But I’d have taken an extra pass with that spray.’
He laughs weakly. ‘Yeah, that, I’d probably deserve.’
Because that’s his answer to everything, isn’t it? Every ounce of pain he endures, is nothing but a coin in the never ending debt that he owes himself. The only person that would ever expect it of him. The only one that thinks he deserves this, burns and wounds that he can’t fix for himself.
‘I think you should go,’ you say quietly, as your heart tugs in the opposite direction. ‘It’s late.’
Late, and approaching the longest time you’ve spent with him since the two of you broke up. Any longer and you might forget why.
#frank castle x reader#frank castle fanfiction#whumpril2023#whumpril#the way i am shakinggggggg at this being my first frank fic every omg#i dont even know if its frank like at all but it certainly carries the name#LMAO
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tw rarepair week 23: day 2, season 1 lydia/scott
|| for @teenwolfrarepairevents event
|| tags: alternative universe, mechanic!scott, bartender!lydia, underage drinking/working at a bar, creepy guys, protective scott mccall, slight angst, confessions, first kiss, somehow set in the summer but also s1 idk
After getting a side job at an automotive repair shop just outside of Beacon Hills, a way to get away from all the chaos of supernatural creatures, the last thing Scott expected to see was Lydia Martin working the bar attached to the shop. But after months of working in the same vicinity, he’s made a point not to go into the bar, assuming she came out here to escape Beacon Hills the same way he has.
Yet that’s where he stands, watching how she smiles with her glossy lips before pouring a drink for an older gentleman sitting at the bar.
Scott hesitates before making his way over to the bar, sitting furtherest away from all the other patrons. He didn’t even know teenagers could serve alcohol, but then again, he wouldn’t be surprised if the owners were paying Lydia under the table the same way they pay Scott.
“Hi Scott.” Lydia says nonchalantly as she wipes down a glass with a white towel that mirrors the one sticking out of the back pocket of her shorts. He makes a point not to stare at them, or at how tight they are, or how small her top is and how low cut it is. It’s nothing like what she usually wears, it makes Scott a little uncomfortable to see this much of Lydia, as though he’s seeing something he’s not supposed to. If anyone asked him how old he’d think Lydia was without knowing her he’d say in her early twenties, he wonders if being here makes him look older too.
If the grease on his hands and uniform add a couple years, or maybe that’s the newfound werewolf features. His fangs itch to come out, not in anger, not because of danger, but just to let them be free for a moment. To feel them in his mouth.
“You gonna order a drink?” He blinks himself away from his thoughts and nods, trying to think up a drink order.
“Whiskey, neat.” It’s what his dad would order, and Stiles’ dad, he knows because he sat in the bar next to them more than once as a kid. Stiles never did, Noah’s too good to do that shit, but Rafael definitely isn’t.
“Whiskey neat, enjoy.” The glass gets slid towards Scott, he quickly sips it, both out of how hot it is outside and how nervous he is being in a bar like this.
It feels all sorts of wrong to watch as Lydia laughs and jokes with the costumers, ignoring how their eyes linger on her chest, or how they make a point to hand her her tip just so their hands can linger a moment too long. It makes Scott feel sick, angry, he wants to slam their heads into the bar and ask what the hell they’re doing. Lydia’s eyes catch his own, probably seeing how hard he’s staring and how angry he is, he softens seeing Martin shoot him a reassuring smile.
“I deal with it everyday Scott, you don’t have to get all wound up.” She hustles back over and starts to pour more whiskey into the glass Scott didn’t even realize he finished. It’s not like he’ll get drunk anyways.
“It’s gross.” A small sigh escapes Lydia, she settles her elbows on the bar and leans towards Scott, looking a little exhausted in the action.
“Like I don’t see the girls out there harassing you when you’re trying to work.” She has a point, nobody knows either of them in this town so they assume it’s okay to flirt and get touchy with them. Scott’s always quick to politely decline and mutter up an excuse of having a girlfriend that doesn’t really exist, it doesn’t always make the people back off, but he cares about this job so he keeps his mouth shut.
“That’s different, you shouldn’t have to deal with those guys.” He side eyes the men talking amongst themselves, oblivious to Scott and Lydia even being in the room. Self centered assholes.
“And you should? Scott, it’s just part of the job, and I need this job so I handle it.” A piece of hair falls forward and without thinking Scott leans to push it back behind Lydia’s ear, fixing a few pieces so it looks like how she normally wears it.
“You’re too sweet to me.” Lydia’s hand wraps around Scott’s wrist, pulling his hand down from her face and dropping her head as she does. Scott frowns, he can smell the guilt on Lydia, the small hint of sadness that makes Scott’s heart squeeze.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” There’s a sheen layer of tears built in Lydia’s eyes, she looks over a moment, the group of men are leaving change and crumpled bills on the bartop before they stumble outside into the California desert heat.
“I was so mean to you and Stiles before, me and Jackson— we were assholes.” She huffs, Scott hates that she blames herself for the control Jackson had over her. Scott forgave her ages ago, and Stiles never even held a grudge in the first place.
“None of that matters now.” Instinctively Scott threads their fingers together, squeezing slightly to try and ease the hurt coming from Lydia.
“Still, I- I don’t think you’d be so nice to me if you knew that—.” She stops herself with a click of her mouth closing.
“What?” Lydia’s eyes level with Scott’s, her heart rate speeding up enough for concern to grow in McCalls chest.
“I like you. Like- really like you Scott, and I know you deserve someone better than me and—.” His lips are pressed into Lydia’s before he can think about it, cupping his free hand around her cheek and not daring to open his eyes in fear of this all being a dream. Martin kisses him back just as deeply and desperately, leaning herself in as close as she can get with the bar still acting as a barrier.
“Your fangs are out.” She pulls back with blown pupils watching how Scott’s tongue flicks across his teeth, she’s right, he doesn’t know when they came out.
“Sorry.” He mutters and tries to get them to go back up but it’s not working all that well, he isn’t good at that type of selective control yet.
“No, it’s okay, I like it.” She smiles into another kiss, Scott forgets about his fangs.
#twrarepairweek#they technically count as a rp bc they only have 465 fic’s up#lydia x scott#scydia#mechanic!scott#bartender!lydia#scott mccall#lydia martin#teen wolf#jj moodboards#jj writes
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Pst- hey if it’s ok with you before the floor swallows me can I get some more Houston angst
Absolutely!! I actually had one written last night or so when I was Going Through It(tm)
Also i felt the "floor swallowing me" thing, hope it passes soon <3
Would He
The silence isn't as welcoming as it used to be.
Over the months turned to years, Houston has grown comfortable with this odd position he holds in the gang. He's the shadow standing in the corner, and a punching bag for a man with more rage than his mind could cope with (the betrayal of being replaced and abandoned still sparking in his eyes every so often). He's the skeleton from the Chief's closet, following him close, waiting for a moment to catch his attention.
Time didn't heal wounds. It just became easier to tend them.
Off in the main room of the safehouse, the majority of the gang watches movies, celebrating a month of good work. Sangres and Jiro had gone off on their own after the first movie, Jiro deciding to head to bed for the evening, and Sangres just tired of the stuffy air. Houston had attempted to talk with his brother, but Dallas- always more focused on things that weren't Houston, had brushed him off.
Houston gave up and returned to the balcony. His fingers had gone to light a cig, but the desire wasn't there, and he’d put the lighter back in his pocket.
He jumps when the door behind him slides open.
"The 'ell are you doin' out here?" Hoxton asks, the door shutting behind him. "Hate fun?" The Brit pulls out a cigarette, and Houston absentmindedly hands him his lighter.
Hoxton blinks, then cautiously takes it. When he returns it, it's with a quiet 'thank you'.
The silence is the closest to comfortable it can be. Before Hoxton had come out, it was suffocating Houston. Too loud.
Now, it just was.
"Hey, Hoxton." Houston starts, his voice low. He waits for Hoxton to grunt. When he does, the mechanic continues. "Would Dallas… be sad if something happened to me?"
The surprised flinch is unnoticed, and Hoxton turns to him. "What'd'you mean?"
"Would he care?"
The Brit grows somber and looks out off the balcony, standing next to the other man in contemplation.
Eventually… "Do you want an honest answer?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know." Hoxton looks remorseful, worried. "Why?"
Houston stays silent, a part of him not wanting to burden Hoxton with his woes. He shrugs, staring at the ground.
"You two aren't close." Hoxton says.
"No. Were when I was really little, but otherwise, we don't talk." Sighing, Houston rests his head on his hand. "Was just… thinking. Don't worry about it."
"Well, now that you've said that, I'm going to." A sad smile appears on Houston’s face, but it fades quickly.
"I just wonder, y'know. If he would care if I died."
Hoxton makes a noise, wanting to say something. Instead, he pats Houston’s shoulder. It's awkward, not forced, but uncomfortable. "A lot of us would."
Houston nods. Hoxton goes to say more, but a crash inside, followed by incoherent Swedish and a frantic sounding Jimmy, alerts the two. They turn to look in the door, neither eager to go investigate.
Until Wolf starts calling for Hoxton. "Ah, I better-"
"Yeah, probably."
Hoxton opens the door, turning once to Houston to speak, only to be interrupted by Jimmy. More crashing and yelling.
"Oh my God, what did you do?" Hoxton shouts, rushing to the two.
Houston shuts the door, shaking his head. Eventually, he sits with his back against the wall.
He's not sure how long he's out there for. By the time the door opens again, he's gone stiff, body aching.
"You alright?" Jimmy asks. Houston nods.
Jimmy plops down next to him. "When I worked for Akan, I wondered, you know, if anything I did mattered. I was always in pain, and watching everyone around me. I'd go up to the roof sometimes, think about if it'd matter if I died, or vanished, you know."
"Yeah."
Jimmy stares at the sky. "If I had, then I wouldn't have gotten to meet you lot. Never would've stopped Akan." He turns back to Houston. "Out there… there's somethin' for ya. I'm sure of it." Jimmy claps Houston on the back and stands. "I mean it. And if you ever need to chat, you know where to find me."
Houston stares, watching as the man heads back to his bar. Wolf and Hoxton are asleep on the couch, Dallas throwing a blanket over them.
He should sleep, too.
Houston gets up, stretching as he steps back in, closing the door. Dallas turns to him. "Were you outside all night?"
The younger Steele nods, pulling the curtain shut.
"Are you…" Dallas shifts. "Are you okay?"
"Mhm." Houston walks past him, refusing to look.
A quiet sigh, almost a whimper. "Hey, Derek… I-"
"Don't. Just… just don't." Houston snaps. He keeps walking.
Behind him, Dallas's outstretched arm falls to his side.
He watches as Houston walks away, before turning and going his own direction.
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tempportal:
@theseancekid said: “I’ve made a huge mistake.”
“Klaus,” the noise that pushes its way out of his mouth can’t really be called a groan in the absolute strictest sense of the term, but it’s definitely not a whine, and he’ll stand by that even as he (very reluctantly, and very resentfully) lifts his head up off the pillow to level a dark glare at his brother. “It’s three in the goddamn morning. Unless you’ve just kickstarted another apocalypse or broken the coffeepot, the only ‘huge mistake’ you have to worry about is waking me up.”
And that should be the end of it, really — hell, that would be the end of it if he had anything to say about it, because it’s three in the goddamn morning and he’s finally beginning to establish that “normal sleep schedule” that Allison and Luther are always nagging him about, and he wasn’t even having one of his terrifyingly vivid Apocalypse Dreams or anything, so he probably could have maintained that peaceful slumber until sunrise, honestly, fuck you, Klaus — but it’s not.
Because he is such a disgustingly sentimental sucker for his stupid family that it only takes a single look at his brother (little Number Four who’d sneak into his room in the middle of the night when the ghosts got too loud and scary, little Number Four who never really grew up) before he softens, all his frustration melting away like a lump of sugar in the rain.
Five huffs out a deep sigh and pushes himself up on his elbows, rubbing blearily at his eyes with his knuckles, before he refocuses on Klaus. “Okay, okay, just—just tell me what’s going on. What did you do?”
He’d convinced himself that it was the lesser of two evils, but now that Five is leering at him through the darkness, he’s not quite sure. Even with just the one syllable of his name, Five manages to imbue an unreal amount of venom from someone who has only been awake for approximately 3 seconds. The worst part of it all is that he still manages to look cute! Even with the sharpest strain in his voice and the meanest of glares, he still looks like a bleary-eyed little boy, and perhaps that’s what scares Klaus worst of all.
To be fair, Klaus has done worse in the middle of the night without supervision. But those were different times—different, drug-fueled times—and even if he should arguably know better now, it’s a little bit comforting to know that sober Klaus is just as curious, just as batshit crazy as strung out, fucked-up Klaus.
And to be fair, on the scale of Klaus Shenanigans, this was on the lower end! Right between petty theft and pranking Diego. It should’ve been easy peasy lemon-squeezy; he’s broken into his Dad’s office a million times as a kid. He knows which floorboards creak, which handles to pull to get to the actual good stuff locked away. All he needed was a bit of a top up on his inheritance; maybe an old pocket-watch or solid gold paperweight he could pawn off in the morning.
Only it turns out the old man is a real bastard after all. Even after leaving this celestial plain, he’s finding ways to ruin Klaus’ life with post-mortem booby traps, like some kind of Indiana Jones villain!
Long story short: Klaus has managed to drag himself up the stairs and into his brother’s bedroom with an arrow lodged in his shoulder because apparently Reginald took to medieval fucking defense mechanisms in the last years of his life, and Klaus is too chicken to pull the damn thing out himself. He leans closer to Five, turns his shoulder so the wound is unmistakable, even in the dark.
“Um...I’m bleeding.” He says, which is a very lame understatement, but the pain is positively dizzying as it radiates out from his shoulder with every pulse so it’s about the best he can do at the moment.
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cmon T hes already held you when you cried at least once, you can have a LITTLE moment
Tartar huffed, and turned away to look at him with a wry side smile, clearly feigning disappointment, "You still haven't won a giant Judd for me… You haven't given up, have you?"
"Me? Give up?" Despite his cool smile, Octavio's body betrayed his fragility in the curl at the tips of his tentacles and the flickering of his eyes as they fought to stay trained on their face, looking for escape. He adjusted his hands at his sides, fluttering his fingers before balling his hands into fists. There was no danger. He was safe, he was fine. Octavio repeated this silently, finding a grain of clarity in the repetition.
Mindlessly, he wiped his hands on his suit pants and turned to the stall where he had already tried three times to win them the promised plush. Yes. A goal. Something to fixate on. Something other than that cod damn prophecy.
The jellyfish attendee approached and handed him a ball, happily anticipating they would receive a few more hundred gold from the stubborn man. Octavio turned the sphere in his hand. It was cold, smooth, and pitifully light, but still weighted just enough to fool you into thinking you had a chance at winning. He sucked in a breath, releasing air slowly through his mouth as he stepped back, wound his arm, and launched an adrenaline charged pitch.
The ball whizzed through the air, toppling the tower of metal cans and revealing the pegs meant to rig the bottom row in place, before finally leaving a hole in the back of the fabric tent.
“Oh my-” had they any less constitution, Tartar might have flinched at the aggression in the Octarian’s pitch. DING DING! The jellyfish rang a bell, small eyes wide as it stretched its arms to pull an oversized Judd plush from the top of the tent, quickly handing it over to Octavio.
They leaned back into his field of vision, calmly smirking, “On your first try, too.”
Octavio rolled his eyes and plucked the Judd from the Jellyfish as he turned to face Tartar. His posture relaxed as he handed over the stuffed feline, bowing slightly at the waist with a smirk.
"For you~"
They accepted the prize graciously, "Awh, you shouldn't have…"
Though the man was too proud to avoid their eyes, he didn't hold their mechanical gaze for long, casually looking to the sky to pick out a few visible stars past the flashing carnival lights. Watching his back as he turned away once again, Tartar’s processors hummed with life as they puzzled upon what exactly had put Octavio in such a sour mood so suddenly- and, why it was something he was making an effort to hide.
Octavio scrambled for something else to say; anger and grief battling to surface under a layer of aggressive repression.
Ancients torn apart.
Of course some part of him hoped that the third leg to the prophecy had applied the ancient bond between Inklings and Octarians, but deep down he knew that the prophecy was gruesomely personal.
Still. It couldn't be Tartar, it couldn't.
If he was so sure, then why couldn't he look them in the eye?
The Octarian drew a shaky breath, begrudgingly acknowledging the looming threat of hysteria.
"Hey T, I'm getting a little tired." He yawned and stretched theatrically, before replacing his hands in his pockets. "Seems like a good time as any to head back.”
"I was thinking the same thing," They replied calmly to his petition to leave, and they joined his side quickly as they began the small hike to the exit. Contemplating further in the silence what to do to console their partner was quite the subtask. Their arm found its way around his with a delicate attitude, the demand to be escorted silent as they hugged the giant plush around its neck to their hip.
Something about the way the tacky fortune teller greeted them had upset him, they could gather that much. They acknowledged there was much to Octavio Takowasa they did not know or understand; they had never ventured to try knowing him beyond the basics needed to work together. But, after the time they'd spent being nothing short of torn to pieces by the man in his efforts to understand them, they could take a guess about what might be bothersome about divination (fake or not) to him in general.
"It's a good thing we didn't waste any gold on that clam," they laughed softly, "Projecting the future of a person without any substantial backing data is a fool's errand."
"And," They leaned into him, a slight bump to ensure his attention hadn't wandered away, "You are meant to determine your own path. You have more than enough power to do so."
Octavio inhaled deeply, looking up, and then at the ground as he considered their words. "Using my own words against me, neh?"
The air was turning cool, the Octarian brushed his tentacles out of his face as he looked back at the bustling carnival, a slurry of light behind them. His smile was playful, as he glanced down at Tartar, wondering if they would give him the same answer if they knew it would encourage his pursuit of their affections.
"So, you mean to say… I should leave it in the past, and seize the future now that it's in my hands?"
They hummed a confirmation, “How do you expect me to believe it, if you don’t yourself?”
[Previous]
#splatoween2022#hypnothesis#hypnothesis au#splatoon#splatoon 2#splatoon3#dj octavio#octavio splatoon#dj octavio splatoon#wasab#tartar kamabo#commander tartar#tartar splatoon#tvax
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heajix ― jungkook (m.)
jungkook/reader | alien!au | angst, fluff, smut
wordcount: 13.1k
contents: violence, blood, stabbing, minor character death, murder, mentions of mass genocide, knotting, breeding kink/impreg kink, light size kink, dirty talk, blowjob, fingering, cunnilingus, begging, multiple orgasms, light cumflation, cum eating, cum sharing
― synopsis: you find yourself on palacios, home to the sehebon. unfortunately, it’s not by choice and you quickly realize how deadly the planet is.
note: heajix is pronounced hay-jicks
© httpjeon 2019. do not repost or modify.
blog masterlist ― made of stardust masterlist
You'd been traveling, backpacking to be precise, through Fanet IV System — the newest system to be open for interplanetary travel. While you were traveling and exploring the newly available system and planets you began experiencing extreme technical difficulties. You wound up having to make an emergency landing on the planet of perpetual night called Palacios, home of the Heajix — an obscure, secretive race small in population.
Unfortunately, the least developed planet hadn't taken too kindly to their status of open-for-visits and had seemingly gone into a global lockdown of some sort since it began.
The second you stepped off your craft, you began to cough. The pollution in the air and smog that you could see had you scrambling for the mask you'd been given ahead of your visit.
You were in the heart of the capital city, Yathe, and it was nothing like you'd expected. Instead of a bustling metropolis like on all the other planets — it was nothing but abandoned buildings and graffiti covered walls. There seemed to be limited electricity supplied as street lamps flickered on and off, though most didn't work. The ones that were flickering helped you navigate your way around regardless.
The place was basically lawless, from what you knew, and the citizens did what they wanted to for the most part.
Pulling your backpack over your shoulders, you began to make your way through a nearby residential area. The houses, if you could call them that, were dilapidated and run-down; some had broken windows and others were completely destroyed. The Heajix's native tongue was plastered all over the ruined buildings and, while you weren't fluent, were talking shit about the other planets.
Using the flashlight on your phone, and aided by the illumination of the moon, you managed to find yourself in front of a house. It was small and wooden, no doubt old. When you walked inside, you realized it was just a simple one-room house with an attached bathroom as the only other room.
It was a gamble to assume it was unoccupied but, you really didn't have any other choices since you really couldn't spend the night out on the street. Your communications were down and there was no cell service.
You sighed and stepped inside, wincing at the visible dust floating around the room — thankful for your mask. When you turned to lock the door, you were dismayed to find there was only a broken locking mechanism. Groaning, you banged your head against the door.
"Why does my life suck? This planet might actually kill me!" You grumbled to yourself.
You dropped your backpack on the floor, unraveling the sleeping bag that was attached at the bottom and dropping it in a suitable sleeping place. There was a window right beside the front door, large enough for you to clearly see outside and allowing the moonlight to drift in.
You placed your bag in the corner near your sleeping bag and sat down. It was soft and cushioned, helping you to not feel the hard, rough floor beneath. There was a pillow sewn into the sleeping bag which you laid your head on.
The trip had been long and grueling, taking a week to complete so sleep quickly caught up to you. As your eyes fluttered closed, just before darkness completely overtook you, you swear you saw someone moving in the window.
Waking up to no sunlight was definitely jarring and you quickly realized that your circadian rhythm was going to flip out. Regardless, you looked at the time and it was just past 9 in the morning so you stood up and stretched, intending to take a shower. Grabbing your backpack, you dragged it over to the bathroom. Toting the thing made you realize how heavy it was — you'd packed so much into it for the trip. It hit the floor with a clunk and you were briefly concerned it would break the wood floor beneath.
There was a shower — a rusted spigot and a broken hot water nozzle. You groaned, realizing how shitty your morning was about to be. You reached in, turning the nozzle. The pipes clanged loudly and made a high pitched wailing noise before spurting out water. Your jaw dropped open and you let out a cry of despair at the yellowed water.
After finishing your horrifying shower, 20 minutes of holding in shrieks from the cold polluted water, you sat on the floor in the main area by the window. You did notice that the moon was a lot brighter than it had been and provided more visibility. Pulling out your file from your backpack, you hunched over the floor to take note of the crummy conditions the planet lived in along with their lack of fresh, clean water.
It was a hobby of sorts, traveling through newly opened solar systems and journaling your stay on the planets.
Checking your phone, you noticed it was nearing noon and your stomach began to growl. You slipped your shoes on and put the mask back on your face before stepping out; hiding your belongings in the bathroom to make it seem like the house was empty should anyone come by.
When you stepped outside, you felt a shiver travel up your spine at the ominous atmosphere. It was completely silent, not a single soul in sight and it set you on edge. Pulling the hood of your hoodie up, you kept your head down as you began to walk towards the area where your ship had been parked.
Truth be told, it was quite common on planets of weaker economies for the Capital Planet to provide the citizen with rations.
There were other planets you'd seen them on, and as you walked through the smoggy city you were pleased to find a run-down building marked with a giant red symbol of Vulia — capital of Fanet IV.
The glass doors were smashed open and you easily stepped inside. It was dark and dusty with minimal light helping to guide you. Finally giving in, you turned your cell phone's flashlight on and began to look around.
The place was massive and you were shocked to see that the shelves were still lined with food. It wasn't abundant but it was clear not many people had been picking from the rations.
You grabbed some things from the shelf, realizing you should have brought your backpack. Most of the food was marked in foreign text but you didn’t care. You just needed food or else you wouldn’t survive long enough, on the planet, to even figure out how to get home.
You put some in your pockets and carried others in your hands as you swiftly left the building. Looking around, you felt like someone was watching you but the streets were pedestrian-free. In fact it was eerily empty — it was reminiscent of a ghost town. Strange considering it was the capital city of the planet.
Not wanting to risk getting into trouble, you hurried on your way the your ‘home’. Regretfully, as you shut the door, you remembered the door didn’t properly lock. You weren’t particularly handy enough to really fix it by yourself, unfortunately.
You saved as much food as you could in order to avoid having to go back out and quickly found yourself bored. Looking at the clock, you realized it was only about 2pm. There was no way you could go outside to find something to do. Aside from the fact you knew close to nothing about the planet, you also didn't feel safe out and about.
So you sat there, watching the hours tick by. Your phone battery was depleting and there was no way to charge it — the planet wasn’t quite equipped with outlets and electricity. Once it was dead you were going to be so fucked — no flashlight and no way to tell the time.
It was still early when you decided to roll out your sleeping bag and lay down. You spent a while simply staring at the walls and ceiling daydreaming.
As you lay there in your own world, out of the corner of your eye, something shifted in the darkness of your window.
You sat up quickly, turning your head to look but found nothing to see.
"Now I'm starting to hallucinate," You grumbled, laying back down and turning your back to the window.
You sighed when you woke back up, glancing at your phone indicated it'd only been a couple hours. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, your gaze shifted to the window once again.
Your breath caught in your chest when you could make out the shape of a person standing there — silhouetted against the moon's light.
You couldn't see their face but you knew they could see you, you could feel their gaze burning into you, as they brought their hand to the glass and tapped three times. You didn't breathe, eyes wide with fear you watched as their head tilted to the side. They lifted their hand up again, no doubt intending to knock again when they froze.
You swear you could hear muffled voices but it was so faint it was nearly impossible to be sure that's what you heard. The person's head snapped to the side, body going stiff.
Much to your horror, a second figure made an appearance from a few feet behind them.
All was still for a second before the first figure bolted and took off running. The second person stood there for a second and you were scared they were going to harass you as well. However, the person turned and walked in the opposite direction the other one ran.
With your sleeping bag pulled up to your eyes, you knew you weren't going to be falling asleep again.
When the morning came, you began trying to fix the lock — the night before having made you terrified for your safety. It was a simple type of latch and it took you hours to figure out a way to get it to work — with the help of a bobby pin and a spare pen you had in your bag.
It wasn't the best but it gave you a sense of peace of mind.
You hoped you'd be able to sleep.
Staring at the window, you sighed — maybe you could find something to cover it up when you grew the courage to go out again. You really needed to, having run out of rations and on your last bottle of water that you had collected.
Your phone was almost completely dead after you had been using it to light your work on the lock. The bar was red indicating a sad 18% power left.
The time was a bit past 5PM and you decided to go while it was still technically daytime. Once outside, you wanted to cry with how much you hated it.
Curse you and you terrible luck.
You could only hope that the signals for help you'd sent out would miraculously find their way to someone who could help you. There was also the possibility of you finding someone in Yathe who could help you — whenever you gained the courage to venture around and find help for yourself.
Until then, you'd just suffer by yourself.
You did the rounds again, this time you stuffed much more into your backpack — which you’d remembered to take. Every little creak and gust of wind caused you to jump, the image of that person standing at your window was still haunting you.
You were going to be severely out of luck soon; with no phone, no way to contact Earth or a nearby planet to get to for safety, along with the apparent stalkers hiding in the dark. With worries weighing heavily on your mind, you found yourself drifting into your thoughts. Anxiety riddled your being and you cursed yourself for not having been prepared for an event like the one you were in.
The only thing that pulled you from your thoughts were the heavy footsteps not far behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end and your hands began to tremble. Taking a glance over your shoulder, you saw a broad-shouldered individual meandering around behind you. With their hood pulled over their head, you couldn't see their face but you were sure it was a man.
When he noticed you looking, he picked up his pace intending to catch up to you. You held a whimper of fear in, speeding up your own pace.
His footsteps sped up again and you felt tears of fear pricking at your eyes — your house was right up ahead. You could get inside and lock him out.
Just before you reached your house, the footsteps stopped altogether. When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw the man talking to another person.
He had a friend.
You were in such deep shit.
Practically bolting to your house, you locked the door shut and placed your backpack in front of it — it was heavy and it wouldn't do much. Nonetheless, it helped you feel safe. You slid to the floor underneath the window, out of view.
Despite your fear, your stomach began to grumble with hunger. You chanced a peek out of the window and found there was not another soul in sight.
Your hands were shaking so bad it made it difficult to bring your drink safely to your lips. It took you an hour, according to your phone, to eat some of your food as you had kept drifting off into space.
A loud bang made your eyes shoot open, having fallen asleep against the wall with your knees to your chest. Drowsy, you looked around for the source of what woke you up.
Another bang and you saw your poorly locked door move with the weight of someone slamming against it. You scrambled backwards away from the door, eyes wide as tears pricked at them in fear.
There was nothing you could do as the lock gave and the door flew open. A man stood there, shoulders heaving as he glared at you. You could see only his eyes as his face was masked with scarf.
"Please..." You whispered, backing yourself into a corner.
"I knew you were a human," He growled, voice gruff and raw. "You know you're not welcome here."
"I-I..." Your mind blanked with any defense you could have made.
Just as he took another step forward, a second larger figured barreled through the open doorway. He was covered by an oversized black hoodie and black face mask. The heavy black boots on his feet added more to his height. You saw your life flash before your eyes and you just knew you were doomed.
"You—" The new man moved forward in the blink of an eye and had the other man jacked up against the wall by the front of his shirt.
"What did I tell you?" The second man asked, voice muffled by the full-face white mask he wore.
"Look—" The first man began but stopped when the second tightened his grip. "Fuck fine, I'll go."
The second man said nothing, simply letting the other go for him to run out the door. He sighed, shoulders relaxing as he turned to you.
You were frozen where you sat, his dark eyes, through the dark shadow his long bangs casted, doing nothing to quell your fear.
"What's your name?" He suddenly asked.
"_-_____," You muttered, not taking your eyes off him as he began to walk around your house. His boots thunked against the wood floors as he investigated whatever he saw.
"Well ______," He turned to you and sighed. "My name's Jungkook."
He crouched in front of you, the chain hanging on his jeans jingling when it met the floor, pulling the bands around his ears off and removed his mask.
It felt like the air was promptly knocked out of you. Even in the dark you could make out beautiful features on his face; wide, sparkling doe eyes with long curly bangs that hung in them. He had pretty, delicate lips with a small freckle beneath and a sharp jawline.
He was young and really good looking.
"N-Nice to meet you, Jungkook..." You stuttered.
He cocked his head to the side, fully sitting on the floor in front of you with his legs spread and arms resting on his knees. His dark eyes analyzed you, scanning over your features and body.
"What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice portraying no identifiable emotion.
"I-I just found this e-empty house and—"
"No, I mean why are you here...on Palacios," He nibbled on his bottom lip as he stared at you.
"I um...I was traveling and had to make an emergency landing on the nearest planet," You explained.
"Why are you still here?" Jungkook's eyebrows were furrowed.
"My...my communications are down and Palacios doesn't have cell reception," You explained. "I attempted to send out an emergency beacon when I landed but there's no telling if it went through. And I've been too scared to try and make the trek back to see."
"It's probably been looted and dismantled by now for spare parts," He said, making you groan in despair.
"Are there any like...Embassy officials I can talk to? Government officials that can help me?" With every question, you felt your heart beginning to race with anxiety once more.
Jungkook's shoulders shrugged as he shook his head. "Do you not know anything about this place?"
"Only what's been released through the media," You replied honestly. "That you guys went into a lockdown or something."
"We don't...like outsiders here," He whispered before looking away. "There's no one who can help you. We're governless and we have no officials."
"Well how do you have laws a-and—"
"Does it look like we have laws, _____?" He snapped, making you flinch. "Look around. This isn't Earth. We don't have the luxury of being law-abiding citizens. We do what we have to to survive."
"I-I'm sorry I didn't mean—"
"Let's go," He cut you off again, standing up.
"Where?" You whispered, staring up at him.
"I said let's go," He growled, reaching down and grabbing your elbow. You whined when he aggressively jerked you to your feet, ignoring the painful grip he had on you.
"Wait! My things!" You complained, trying to break out of his harsh grip.
Jungkook growled, snatching up your backpack and tossing it over his shoulder.
"My sleeping bag..."
"You don't need it," He grumbled, yanking you out of the broken doorway.
As you walked, you noticed he tugged his mask back on — hiding his face. To your surprise, he pulled you only a few houses down from the one you had been in. He pulled out a key ring from the belt loops on his jeans and slid a key in the lock.
The house was still fairy dilapidated but it had clearly been renovated and fixed up to suit his needs. He hastily slammed the door behind him and locked the three locks that were there — a knob lock, deadbolt, and a simple latch lock like the one in the place you’d been hiding in.
The house was a bit bigger than the one you'd been in — it had an actual bedroom. All except a single window towards the back of the house and a window you could see in the bedroom were boarded up. Jungkook dropped your belongings on the floor with a thud and dropped to sit on the tattered couch in the living area.
"Um..." You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, watching as he removed his mask again and tossed it away. His eyes cut to you and he raised a brow in question. "Why am I here?"
"What do you mean?" He asked, closing his eyes as he laid his head on the back of the couch.
"I mean...at your house, why...am I in your house?"
He chuckled at your question and you bit your lip at the sight of his crooked smirk. "Well, you were nearly killed over there. Did you want to spend your night there?"
"Well, no, but..."
"Look," He sat up and sighed. "There was no way you could survive on your own in this place. Actual Heajix can barely survive. So, I'm doing you a favor and helping you out, okay? The least you could say is thank you."
"I...thank you." It came out more as a question and Jungkook scoffed.
"You can sleep here," He mumbled, getting to his feet and stalking past you to his room. As he passed you, a sweet smell, delicate scent wafted off of him and you couldn’t help but inhale. It was nice.
You felt around your pockets and realized you had left your phone behind. You whined as you sat down on the couch, not willing to ask Jungkook to go and retrieve it for you. Jungkook's door clicked shut and you were left alone and in silence. It was dark, the moonlight from the back window barely reaching where you were sitting.
You curled up, shivering at the cool draft and your lack of a blanket. Closing your eyes, you hoped for sleep to overtake you.
Soft footsteps moved around you and your eyes fluttered open. Jungkook stood in the kitchenette, shuffling with something on a plate. Sitting up, you winced at how sore your muscles were from curled up on the small space all night. Your neck felt stiff and hurt when you moved it a certain way.
"Um what time is it?" You asked, voice groggy from sleep.
"I don't know," He replied, not looking at you.
"What do you mean you don't know?" You asked.
He turned around, carrying a plate over to the coffee table and placing it down. He was wearing a loose white sweater and sweatpants, long curly hair messy and hanging in his eyes. "I mean...we don't exactly have a concept of time anymore. There aren't really functioning clocks so we all just...run on our own schedules."
"I see..." You watched him pick at some food on the plate and pop it in his mouth. It looked like some kind of diced meat. "What is this?"
"Food," He replied shortly, not offering any other information even as you glared at him. "Eat before you die of starvation."
You sighed but couldn't deny the hunger pains in your stomach. Albeit suspiciously, you took a piece of meat and popped it in your mouth. You hummed, finding nothing strange tasting about it — it tasted similar to ham.
The two of you finished it together and he leaned back on the couch with a groan, patting his stomach. You sat in silence, listening to the wind blowing outside.
"It's probably going to storm soon," He muttered suddenly, eyes drifting towards the window.
You hummed in response, picking at a thread around a hole in your jeans. You weren’t sure how to reply to him, truthfully his tough attitude and mannerisms intimidated you. The last thing you wanted to do was make him mad enough to kick you out and it seemed like he had a bit of a short fuse.
"Do you want a shower?" He suddenly asked, making you jump.
"Um...yeah I guess," You dreaded taking another shower in the filthy water but it’d give you a chance to be away from him and relax a bit.
Jungkook led you to the bathroom and you were surprised by how well maintained it was. He grabbed a towel from a shelf on the wall and tossed it to you. Then without uttering another word, he shut the door and left you alone.
You were pleased to see a hot water handle and eagerly turned it. Then, much to your surprise, the water came out perfectly clean and clear. Without wasting a second, you eagerly stripped and stepped under the warm shower.
It felt like you were in there for ages, having to use some soap Jungkook had to clean yourself. You hoped he didn't mind, though it smelled very good.
When you stepped out, you felt fresher and you were surprised to see new clothes on the countertop.
He had come in while you were shower.
Your face burned hot, hoping he hadn't looked. Throwing on the clothes, you hummed at how clean and nice you felt for the first time since being on the planet. When you walked out of the bathroom, Jungkook was sitting on the couch with his eyes closed and arms over his chest like he was napping.
"H-How did you have clean water?" You asked, taking a seat beside him.
You heard him inhale and felt his body tense. For a second you thought he was going to yell at you, but instead he opened his eyes to look at you. "I hooked all my piping to a private water reservoir that continuously purifies the water."
"That's...impressive," You whispered. "How'd you learn to do that?"
He shrugged. "Took a lot of testing, trial and error with the purification. But my parents were mechanical engineers in Zlathe."
"Zlathe?" You asked.
"It was another city a long time ago," He replied, running a hand through his hair revealing his forehead.
"...Was? What do you mean?" You sat up straighter and he sighed.
"Before everything fell, Zlathe was a neighboring city even bigger than Yathe," He explained.
"I don't understand," You muttered. "What do you mean everything fell?"
"You really are ignorant," He chuckled, though it held no mirth. You couldn’t find it in you to be offended because it was true; but no one outside knew anything about the planet.
"Well it's not my fault your planet is a secret," You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.
"We were less developed than everyone...the other planets," His voice held nothing but spite as he spat out the words. "Palacios is the smallest and collectively they all decided, even as we rejected the idea, to create landfills here to dispose of their waste so their own planets didn't become a mess."
"So...that's what caused the pollution?" You asked.
He nodded. "The more toxic the air became, the more sick people became. Those who were able to leave did and those who couldn't were trapped. All of our government leaders left us without a word. Everything went to complete chaos."
"That's horrible! They just abandoned their citizens?" You gasped, eyes wide with shock.
"One by one the cities became desolate. Yathe is, from what we know, the only standing safe city. When the population became crammed into this last safezone those fucking Vorderans swept in and raided every nook and cranny they could. We went from 500,000 people to a mere maybe...20,000?"
"Vorderans?" You hummed. "The people of Vulia? Capital Planet for Fanet IV? Why did they do that?"
Jungkook scoffed. "Why would I tell you? So you can report it back to the Humans and they can take what's left of an already dying people? We're a doomed species — pushed to the brink of extinction over greed and classicism. Why do you think we kill any outside official that comes here, huh?"
"W-We just...everyone just said Heajix were very...private," You muttered, a little startled by his aggressive attitude.
"Yeah they would," He spat. "They don't want to have to explain the complete genocide and decimation of a planet they spearheaded."
"Did you say kill?" You suddenly whispered, brain catching up to what he’d previous confessed.
"Of course, any foreign person who comes to us...after we warned the Embassy to leave us alone...they sign their own death warrant," He said, absolutely no remorse in his voice.
"Is that why that guy broke in?" You asked, which he nodded at.
"Yeah, you were targeted by him even though it wasn't even discussed," When he heard you hum in confusion. "We may not have people in high positions telling us what to do but we do maintain some order. Any foreign person who comes here is watched and if they're deemed a threat we take them out. So far...every person has proved themselves to be so. But you...we hadn't caught you doing anything other than trying to survive and hide so we voted to leave you alone."
"So why did that guy—"
"He went off the deep end I guess, didn't trust you and wanted to take you out on his own terms to be safe. He'll be punished and dealt with appropriately," He said, pulling his sleeves of his sweatshirt up to show a wide expanse of tattoos written in a foreign text. "All criminals after punishment are made to have a tattoo on their skin detailing the nature and severity of the crime. It's kind of like a way to shame us for behaving that way. It’s a little piece of our culture we’ve maintained even after the fall."
You leaned closer, looking over the intricate text that was displayed. He had a handful from what you could tell.
"I take it you're not going to tell me what your crimes are?" You asked, unsurprised when he yanked his sleeve down harshly.
"What the hell happened to your arm?" He suddenly asked, changing the subject, eyes pinned to your arm.
When you looked down to follow his gaze, you were shocked to see a nasty purpling bruise around your elbow.
"I have no idea," You muttered. However, he grabbed your wrist and you gasped, attempting to yank yourself away. "That hurts, you know! Jeez, why are you so rough?"
"Rough?" He scoffed. "I'm barely even touching you!"
"Well, you've got a twisted concept of gentle," You muttered, rubbing your now sore wrist. "Oh."
"What?" He grumbled, pouting at having been chewed out by you.
"It's where you grabbed me yesterday," You muttered. "Jeez I knew you were rough but..."
"I wasn't that rough..." At the tone of his voice, you looked up and saw him frowning. He lightly ran his fingers over the bruise. "I didn't meant to hurt you."
"I..." You were shocked by how upset he seemed over it, showing actual concern. "It's okay...it'll heal. J-Just be more careful next time, okay?"
"I didn't realize how easy you are to hurt," He muttered, still staring at your bruise. "You're a delicate race, huh? I'll be more careful, I promise."
You smiled at him and nodded. His lips twitched upward in his own smile and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.
The following day, Jungkook stood before you with a backpack on his shoulders. His mask was in place and he looked at you where you sat on his couch.
"When I leave, lock the door behind me," He ordered you, watching as you quickly nodded your head. "And don't open up until you're sure it's me, got it?"
"Got it," You replied, feeling anxious over the situation.
His boots stomped against the floor as he walked to the door, casting one strong glance at you over his shoulder before walking out and slamming it shut. You quickly raced over and slid the latch lock in place and twisted the deadbolt while he locked the knob. Left alone in the silence, you felt extremely uncomfortable.
You looked around, eyes falling on the door to Jungkook's bedroom. Debating for a moment, you decided he'd probably be gone long enough for you to have a peek.
Pushing the door open, you were pleased at how nice it smelled — Jungkook's clean scent permeating from every inch.
As you stepped inside, you noticed a pile of old, worn books in one corner. He had a table beside his bed with a picture frame on it. Taking a seat on his mattress, you grabbed the frame and examined it. There was a picture of Jungkook, albeit a bit younger, standing with a man and woman on either side of him and behind him a taller man who looked similar to Jungkook.
You opened the drawer of his table, having to pull hard as it seemed to be off the track. It was empty inside aside from a paper you couldn't read and a bottle of lotion. Humming, you simply pushed the drawer back closed and looked around the room some more.
Deciding there was nothing else worth looking at, you stepped out of his room and shut the door. Boredom struck immediately and you dropped down onto the couch and curled up.
The least you could do is take a nap.
Your rest didn't last long because you were startled awake by violent knocks on the door. From outside, you could hear Jungkook calling your name. Jumping to your feet, you scrambled to unlock the door and let him in. He sounded so panicked that your hands were shaking by the time you slid the latch lock open.
Jungkook burst in the second the door was open and promptly fell to the ground with a groan. You shut the door and shakily locked it again before turning to him.
"J-Jungkook? What happened?" You crouched down and helped him pull his backpack off.
He winced, making a hissing noise the second he was made to move. You gasped, noticing the way that he was holding his side — red seeping through his fingers.
"Oh my god, what happened?!" You cried, hands hovering above him not knowing what to do.
"J-Just a stupid accident," He groaned, the back of his head hitting the floor harshly when he tossed it back. The impact didn’t seem to bother him. "Was chasin' some animal and I fell. Caught myself on some scrap metal on the way down."
"Holy crap, how bad is it?" You urged him to move his hand so you could see his wound.
The metal had torn a hole in his shirt and you could see a deep gash across his ribs. There was blood gushing from it and you were worried about the possibility of infection.
"It needs to be cleaned and probably stitched, Jungkook," You muttered, watching him put his hand back over it to slow the bleeding.
"I don't have t-to clean it or stitch it," His eyebrows were drawn together and his jaw was clenched in pain.
"I have a first aid kit in my backpack," You stood up quickly, ignoring his protests, dashing over to where your backpack was leaning against the wall.
Zipping it open, you began to fish through your belongings searching for the little white box. You pulled out a towel, deciding it might be good to help clean him up some. You made a soft sound when you finally spotted the kit, pulling it out and holding it up in triumph.
Sitting beside Jungkook again, you helped him remove his shirt. There were a few tattoos and scars scattered along his chest and abdomen but you didn't have time to ogle at his naked body. You pressed the spare towel against his wound and apologized as he hissed in pain. His hand was covered red in blood — some of it having dripped down his wrist to his elbow. You noticed that his mask was gone as well.
"Okay, I'm going to put some antiseptic on it alright?" You asked, pulling the towel off slightly. "It's going to burn like...really bad but—"
"Just do it," He groaned. "Nothing can top this pain right now."
You sighed and ripped open an alcohol wipe. The second it touched the wound, Jungkook's entire body jerked and he let out a sharp word in his mother tongue that you assumed was a cuss. In another situation, you would have laughed at the reaction. Next, you cleaned it with some hydrogen peroxide, making sure to flush the wound as best you could.
"Wh-Where did you learn to do this?" He asked, voice tight with pain.
"Well...I have just basic knowledge from things I've seen on like TV and..stuff like that. So I don't actually know if I'm doing it right or not," You whispered. "But the point is it's getting cleaned, right?"
"Shit, I guess you're right," He mumbled, eyes focused on the ceiling above him.
"I-It's still bleeding, it really will need stitches...it's so deep," You whispered, watching as blood continued to seep through.
"Can you do it?" He asked.
"I don't know...the only thing we can do is try, right?" You were lucky you had a full first aid kit, complete with a sterile needle and thread.
It was quite dark and you had to lean close to see the edges of the wound. You took it slow, apologizing to Jungkook whenever the needle pierced the torn skin. Little by little, the wound was closed until you managed to tie a tight knot to ensure the stitches wouldn't open back up.
Sitting back, you let out a sigh of relief. "I have some pain medicine," You said, taking out a few tablets of Ibuprofen from the first aid kit.
"Thanks," He popped them in his mouth, wincing as he had to swallow them dry.
Then was a big sigh, his body finally relaxed against the floor. He blinked slowly, as if he was struggling to stay awake. You assumed his adrenaline rush crashed and he was growing tired — no doubt exhausted from the adrenaline crash.
"This is insane," He mumbled suddenly, voice sounding slurred.
"What is?" You questioned.
"Before I would just think of getting myself home safe and that'd be the end of it," His lashes fluttered as he fought the sleep that threatened to overtake him. "But this time...all I could think was that I had to get back to you so you would be safe. Unbelievable."
You couldn't help but smile, though he missed it as his eyes finally closed. In a matter of moments, his breathing evened out and you knew he fell asleep.
Right on the floor.
Chuckling, you shook your head and wandered to his bedroom to pull the blanket off his bed — just a thin throw blanket and one of his pillows. You returned to him and carefully, doing your best not to wake him, placed the pillow beneath his head and the blanket over his body.
Your own exhaustion seemed to catch up to you and you curled up on the couch, your own eyes shutting as you stared at Jungkook's sleeping form.
When you woke up, it was on your own. You saw Jungkook was still asleep and sighed. Quickly pulling yourself up, you wandered over to him. Sitting down, you peeled the blanket off of him. You moved his arm off his chest so you could look at his wound but you let out a harsh gasp at what you saw. Jungkook's eyes immediately popped open and sharply turned to look at you.
"What is it?" He asked, body relaxing when he realized it was just you.
"Y-Your wound..." You leaned down to get a closer look, looking at your uneven stitching over the red skin.
"What about it?" He hummed, looking down to take a look at himself.
"It's healed up..." Beneath the stitches, the skin was still reddened but there was no sign of the open wound that was once there. Just a puffy looking scar was left in its wake.
"Oh good," He sat up and stretched his arms — his joints popping at the action, making him groan. "Hand me my backpack, yeah?"
"What do you mean good?! Yesterday you were bleeding out on the floor a-and now you're acting like it's just okay?!" You cried, throwing your hands up in frustration.
He stared at you for a moment, looking confused before sighing. He rolled over and grabbed his backpack, pulling it into his lap and digging through.
"Eat something and then we'll talk, okay?" He pulled out a bar of something and when you opened it, it resembled a granola bar but was much softer.
When you took a bite, you were surprised that it tasted like meat. But it wasn't bad. Jungkook pulled out his own and quietly began eating. It was silent between the two of you, as you simply ate. Before long, you were finished and Jungkook simply threw the wrappers into his backpack.
"Now will you tell me?" You muttered, raising a brow when he sighed.
He stood up and moved over to the couch, leaving you kneeling beside his makeshift bed. He sat down and looked at you expectantly, making you rise to your feet and stumble over to sit beside him.
"I guess there's no reason to hide it," You scanned over him as he spoke, taking the opportunity to look over his body again. He was fit, no doubt, with faint abs and lovely, veiny forearms.
"So you have super healing abilities?" You asked quietly.
"We...our species produces a chemical naturally that can heal virtually anything," He explained. "It's in any fluid we excrete; even sweat. And it's in our blood, obviously."
"That's amazing..." You whispered, eyes drifting back to his wound. "Why did you let me take care of it if you knew it was going to heal up?"
"I...Because the other planets use us for it," He muttered, fists clenching. "Do you remember what I told you? About the Vorderans?" You nodded and he continued, "They...collected us for the chemical. They produce the highest quality super medicine in the solar system. And it's because they slaughtered thousands of us to get it."
"So...you didn't trust me to tell me?" You asked, though there was no tone to indicate you were trying to guilt him.
"No," He sighed. "But since you did take care of me...I figured I could at least give it a try, right?"
"Thank you, Jungkook," You smiled. "I'm really happy you're okay, you know. I was really worried. Without you, I'd be doomed here."
"That's very true," He smirked, relaxing into the couch. "You're absolutely helpless!"
"Hey!" You pouted. "You could teach me, you know?"
"Teach you how to survive out there?" He asked, nodding his head towards the door. You nodded and he shook his head. "You're too much of a target. I wouldn't be able to handle looking after you and trying to scavenge."
"I guess that's true," You muttered. "I just don't want to be a burden. You went out of your way to help me and I've done nothing in return for the fact you keep helping me."
He wore a frown as he looked at you. "You're not a burden. In fact, I actually appreciate having you around."
"You do?" You asked, your heart stuttering in your chest as he looked at you with sparkling eyes.
"Yeah," He smiled. "I hadn't realized how lonely I was. But with you here now, I feel a lot...happier. Lighter. It feels nice to not be alone."
"I...I'm happy I can make you feel that way, Jungkook," You whispered, meeting his eyes.
The two of you sat like that in silence. You felt a soft brush of Jungkook's fingers on your hand and he easily laced his fingers through yours.
You felt content; happy even.
You were curled up on the couch, unable to sleep through the howling sound of the wind outside. Rain was pouring down and the thunder was so loud your ears were ringing. Clouds blocked out the moon, blanketing you in complete and total darkness.
It was cold, Jungkook still hadn't given you a blanket and you were beginning to think he forgot. The storm had brought the temperature down drastically, leaving your teeth chattering in effect.
The storm was unlike anything you'd experienced on Earth. It was actually a bit scary.
You sat up, finally unable to take it anymore. There was no reason for you to suffer like you were.
You tiptoed over to Jungkook's bedroom and suddenly hesitated. You didn't want to wake him up for a silly blanket, you'd feel bad. Your shoulders sagged and you turned back to sit back down on the couch.
Somehow, you managed to doze off, curled up in a ball in an attempt to keep warm.
You were awoken very soon after by the weight of something warm being laid upon you. Eyes fluttering open, you met Jungkook's eyes. His brows were furrowed and when he saw you were awake, knelt down beside the couch.
"You're freezing, why didn't you ask me for a blanket?" He whispered, mindlessly tucking the blanket around you.
"I-I didn't want to wake you," You mumbled, voice wobbly from shivering.
"Don't worry about that," He grumbled. "I'd rather you wake me up than fucking freeze to death during a storm."
"I'm sorry," You whispered, eyes fluttering again as you finally warmed up. It felt so cozy beneath the blanket and it smelled just like Jungkook. "Thank you, Jungkook."
"Don't worry about it," He whispered, brushing some stray hair off your face as your eyes closed once again.
"It's my duty to take care of you now," He uttered once he was sure you were asleep.
The first time you noticed something was wrong was when you began to get dizzy randomly — usually accompanying a roaring headache. You ignored it, however, choosing to nap off the headache and continue your days on like usual.
Jungkook began going out for scavenging more and more — bringing home killed rodents and other animals. Sometimes he would come home with some rations or a snack from when the world was a functioning metropolis.
"Are you feeling okay?" He asked one morning while the two of you ate some breakfast you prepared.
"Huh?" You looked up from your plate at him.
He was gazing at you, brows furrowed as usual but his head was cocked to the side. "You just look really dazed. And you're barely touching your food."
"Ah, I just..." You cleared your throat. "I lost my appetite, I guess."
"Well, I'm going to go out again today," He said, eating the last of what was on his plate. "I'll be back tonight as usual, alright?"
"Yeah, be careful okay?" You whispered, watching as he hesitated staring at you.
He lifted his hand and placed it softly on your head, smiling.
"I'll see you soon."
Left alone, you ate as much of the food as you could before you had to toss it. You found yourself laying on the couch once again, feeling sluggish and lazy. Deciding a nice nap was in order, you let your eyes flutter shut.
When you woke back up, it felt like you were hit by a bus. You groaned, your head pounding making you whine. Sitting up proved to be a bad move as you felt your stomach turn. Immediately you let yourself flop back down.
Of course you'd get sick on a dystopian planet with no access to medicine.
The hours ticked by and there was no sign of Jungkook. You'd gotten accustomed to his schedule and the general time frame you both ran in so you knew he was well overdue for his return.
You became antsy, pacing around and taking naps when you could. The cold you'd acquired seemed to only get worse as you were plagued with an unfortunate fever. Hiding under your blanket didn't help and being out from the blanket didn't help either. You whined, knowing you didn't have any medicine to help break your fever.
Feeling crappy and concerned about Jungkook made tears sting your eyes; you were always a cry baby when sick.
The door opening finally is what woke you up. Jungkook grumbled, slamming the door.
"Why the hell wasn't the door properly locked?" He snapped, dropping his bag on the floor with a bang.
"Hey...that's loud," You whined, flinching at the way your head began to pound.
"Answer me—hey...what's the matter?" He asked, losing his anger for concern.
"I'm sick," You complained, watching as he kneeled down.
"Sick?" He mumbled, looking over your face — noticing your glassy eyes.
"I have a fever," You explained with a sigh.
He hummed, bringing his hand up to press his palm against your forehead. He hissed, pulling back and sighing.
"I was so scared you weren't coming back, you were gone so long," You whispered, shakily sitting up.
Jungkook's hands hovered in the air, ready to help or catch you if you fell. "I'm sorry, I went a little further than I usually do. But I was only gone overnight. It wasn't that long."
"It felt like days," You whined, tears stinging your eyes.
"I'm sorry," He whispered, cupping your cheek and brushing some hair away from your eye. "I didn't mean to upset you so much."
"It's okay, I'm just...a crybaby," You muttered, cheeks flushing at the fond smile that crossed Jungkook's face — a cute bunny-like smile.
"I...can help you feel better, if you'd let me," He asked, moving to sit beside you on the couch. "My species can cure illnesses, remember?"
"How will you do that?" You asked, voice a little slurred.
"Well..." In the moon's illumination, you could see his ears burning red. "I...I can kiss you?"
Your mind blanked at those words, blinking several times to take in what he said. You recalled what he said about his saliva, or any fluid, possessing the chemical to cure illnesses. Still, despite the fact it was for medicinal purposes, your stomach fluttered with butterflies and your heart stuttered in your chest the idea of kissing him.
"I-I don't mind..." You uttered, subconsciously licking your lips.
He cupped your cheek, leaning down and ever so softly brushed his lips against yours. When you sighed happily at the contact, he surged forward and pulled you into a much deeper kiss. Your lips moved in unison and you couldn't help but reach up to wrap your arms around his neck.
Shuddering, you held in a whimper when his tongue met your lips. You eagerly opened your mouth, shuddering as the taste of him lingered upon your tongue. Your fingers clutched at his hair as you continued to deepen the kiss.
After several long, lovely seconds of the kiss — he finally pulled away. There was a small strand of saliva still connecting the two of you. He brushed his thumb across your lips, breaking the strand.
The two of you sighed, falling silent but he kept his hand on your cheek.
"You should rest now, you'll feel better soon," He whispered, standing up and stepping away.
You missed his touch immediately, and watched him until he disappeared behind his bedroom door.
You curled up under the blanket, fingers pressed to your lips as the feeling of him kissing you lingered. The way your heart began to race made you sigh heavily; what an effect he had on you.
The next day, you were feeling much better and were back to eating properly. You could tell Jungkook was happy; he was positively beaming and smiling at you every chance he got.
It was cute.
The two of you were playing a card game; using some cards you'd had in your bag for when you were bored on the trip through Fanet IV. You were teaching him Earth games and how to play.
You were just about to beat him for the 5th time at Go Fish when there was a heavy knock on the door. Both of you jumped and Jungkook was on his feet in a second.
His whole body was tense and his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. He carefully moved in front of you, shielding your body from the door subconsciously.
"Wh-What is it?" You asked, keeping your voice low.
"No one should come here," He whispered back. "Go hide in the bedroom, alright?"
"But Jungkook—"
"Just do it!" He snapped, giving a gentle push to your back to urge you into the open doorway.
You spared him a longing glance before he pulled the door shut with a soft click.
You took a seat on his bed, listening through the thin walls as Jungkook's heavy footsteps moved towards the door. There was a loud click as he unlocked the deadbolt.
There was a quick beat of silence before a slam so loud that you had to cover your mouth to keep from shrieking.
"Fuck! What the fuck are you doing here?!" You heard Jungkook shout.
"Followed you home," Came a gruff, almost bored-sounding reply. "You weren't very smart. Didn't even notice you were being tailed."
"Fuck," You heard Jungkook swear.
"Now, I hope you make this easy for me and just come along nicely," The stranger asked. “Maybe if you tell me where more are hiding, I'll go easy on you.”
Jungkook didn't offer a reply but you could hear heavy boots approaching the bedroom door. You kept your hands over your mouth to keep from making a peep as you slid off the bed and huddled yourself into a dark corner.
The stranger suddenly shrieked and there was a heavy thud of someone falling to the floor. Jungkook let out a string of curses before there was a crash, grunting and scuffling filling your ears.
What was going on?
From where you hid, you could see a little box beneath Jungkook's bed. As quietly as you could, you pulled it out and opened it up.
It was an array of several different knives. Eyes flicking over to the door, you hatched an idea to hopefully help.
If Jungkook didn't win, the man was going to take him away. The mere thought of that happening sent a spark of terror through you.
Picking up the biggest knife that was in the box, you tiptoed over to the door. You could still hear the two of them fighting, the sound covering up the soft click of the door opening. Peeking through the crack, you were shocked to see the table smashed completely. The man was pinning Jungkook down by his throat. Jungkook was struggling, obviously unable to get air. The stranger laughed mockingly down at him.
Your hands and knees were trembling as you quickly crept out.
"You barely even put up a fight," The stranger spat at Jungkook. "You Heajix never were able to take us on though, isn't that right? That's why we were able to kill so many of you! Such incredible strength yet still unable to protect yourselves. Pathetic.”
You couldn't even register his words as you finally stood behind him. Jungkook's eyes were fluttering and he was dangerously close to passing out.
Steeling yourself, you raised the knife overhead and brought it down as hard as you could. The man shrieked so loud that your ears were ringing. The knife was stuck in his back, buried more than halfway through. Part of you felt proud for putting the power behind the attack.
Jungkook let out a desperate gasp, finally getting the oxygen he desperately needed. While you were distracted looking at Jungkook, the strange man spun around and grabbed you by your throat.
"I knew there was someone else here," The man snarled, squeezing your neck as hard as he could.
You couldn't even make a sound of pain as your feet were lifted off the ground. Your vision was swimming but you could make you Jungkook getting to his feet. The man, you noticed, had strange glowing eyes — as if a light were coming from behind them and illuminating the whites.
In the blink of an eye, Jungkook ripped the knife from your assailants back — making him drop you in shock. You hit the ground hard, knocking what little air you had left in you right out.
Jungkook was on the man before he could even blink, stabbing him several times until he was on his knees. Jungkook paused, chest and shoulders heaving as he glared down at the man.
Then, you watched with wide eyes as Jungkook lifted his leg and kicked the man so hard his body physically flew back. The man was limp, blood dripping from his mouth and nose — eyes open and unseeing.
"Holy shit..." You whispered from where you were still laying on the floor.
"Are you alright?" Jungkook asked, helping you sit up with a gentleness that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. His hands were coated in the intruders blood but you didn't mind.
Throwing your arms around his shoulders, you knocked him down on his butt. You hugged him tight, sighing when you felt him wrap his own arms around you.
"I-I didn't know what to do," You whispered. "He was saying he was going to take you away. I saw you were about to pass out and I knew he would take you. I'm sorry I got involved."
"Hey, it's okay," Jungkook pulled back and smiled. "You saved me! Maybe you aren't as helpless as I thought."
You smiled, shaking your head. Then, without thinking, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. He froze for a fraction of a second but quickly cupped the back of your head and returned the kiss.
When you parted, you asked, "So what do we do with him?"
"The Vorderans are going to come looking for him when they notice he's not reported back to them," Jungkook mumbled, looking over his shoulder at the body. "I'll take him out somewhere and dump him off where they won't be able to link it to me."
"You're going to leave right after that?" You asked, your shoulders slumping.
"I shouldn't be gone long, _____," He smiled, brushing his thumb over your pouted lips.
"But what if there are more of them? What if they take you away and I don't even know!"
As if sensing the panic in your voice, he cupped your cheeks and brought your gaze to him.
"That won't happen," He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead — sending your heart into painful palpitations. "It'll be easier to hide out there and easier to lose them if they do find me. I promise, I'll come back and everything will be okay."
"I'm just...scared, Jungkook," You admitted, feeling your eyes burn.
"I know," He sighed, pressing another kiss to your forehead. Your cheeks immediately felt like they were on fire. "But I would never leave you like that."
You clung onto him as long as he allowed you before he decided it was best to get going. He told you to hide in his room until he got back and to just rest.
"Don't open the door," He warned, though he already knew he didn't have to worry about that.
Left alone, you didn't know what to do with yourself. You'd watched Jungkook lift the body like it was nothing — which only reminded you of what the Vorderan has said; Heajix just had incredible physical strength.
You had a much better concept of time since you weren't sick and you were sure 2 days had passed since you'd last seen Jungkook. You could barely sleep, anxiety plaguing every second that he was gone.
You'd taken to sleeping in his bed, taking comfort in his scent surrounding you. Thankfully, Jungkook had managed to stock up on food so you were able to properly eat in his absence. Though it was more a mechanical task to pass the time than it was for actually sustaining you.
It hadn't occurred to you how much he had changed until you were laying in his bed one night. You thought back to the rough, cold exterior he had when you first met him. And now you were blessed with his smile and comforting caresses.
He made your heart ache in the best way and you wanted to hold him and have him kiss you over and over again. He was so sweet and did his best to take care of you.
You'd really been lucky that he was around when he was that night.
The fact he hadn't returned didn't help quell the fears of more Vorderans being around just waiting for someone to come around. For a Heajix to take away.
You didn't think you would hate an alien planet over the sake of another alien race but you knew the Heajix had been treated unfairly. It was cruel and the fact it was just allowed to happen and no one cared really made you angry.
If you ever got back to Earth you were going to do something to help.
You were lost thinking about the things you could do to help when the front door clicked open.
A spark of fear went down your spine as you sat straight up in the bed. Through the door and walls, you could hear heavy footsteps moving around.
They moved to the door and paused. You held your breath, pulling the covers up to your chin as you watched the door creak open.
A black head of fluffy hair popped in and smiled when he saw you sitting there.
"I was wondering where you—!" He was cut off by you flying off the bed and throwing yourself into his arms.
"You're home!" You gasped, burying your face in his neck. You didn't bother fighting the tears that tumbled down your cheeks.
"Yeah..." You could hear the smile in his voice as he wrapped his arms around you, fisting the back of your shirt tightly as if you would slip away. "I'm home."
"I was so worried and..." Your cheeks burned before you muttered, "I missed you."
Reaching up, he cupped both your cheeks in his hands, making you look up at him. You leaned into the feeling of his touch on your skin as he wiped your tears away ever so carefully. He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours.
"I missed you too," He smiled, pecking your lips again. "But I'm back just like I promised I would be. I told you I'd never leave you, right?"
"You're right," You whispered, moving forward to kiss him again. He eagerly reciprocated and you whined into his lips.
He gripped your hips, rough and harsh. You winced, pulling your lips away slightly only for him to chase them — muttering a soft apology before relaxing his grip.
Neither of you wasted time moving to the bed. With your back pressed against the mattress and his wide shoulders above you, you couldn’t help the shiver running down your spine.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him down for another kiss.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” He breathed against your lips.
“Please,” You whispered, reaching down to tug at the hem of his dirty shirt.
“So pretty when you beg,” He growled, sitting up on his knees to pull the shirt off.
Immediately, your hands were roaming across his chest — grazing over scars and tattoos.
He groaned when your fingers brushed over his pebbled nipples. Leaning down, he nipped against the sensitive skin of your neck. As you sighed in pleasure, he began to push your own shirt up until he was able to toss it away.
Sitting up, he let out a curse at the sight of your bare breasts. One large hand cupped one, thumb rolling the nipple harshly until you whimpered. His lips moved down your neck to take the other nipple into his hot mouth, tongue flicking the bud. Your hands wound into his hand, back arching to get more of the delicious feeling.
“Jungkook, please…” You whined, arching your hips upwards. “I-I want you so much.”
“Yeah?” He groaned against your breast, moving to take your other perked nipple into his mouth. “Who would have figured I’d already have you begging?”
“I missed you so much, Jungkook,” You whined, sniffling softly as the emotions came rushing back. “I need you to touch me, please.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” He whispered, leaning back up to peck your lips.
In one swift move, your pants were tugged down your legs until you were left in just your panties. He hummed cupping your heat through the fabric, easily finding your clit and pressing against it. You sighed, head rolling back as you ground your hips down into his touch. Unable to take it, you reached down and tugged your panties off. He allowed you, watching as you kicked them away and spread your legs for him.
“Fuck,” He groaned, dropping onto his stomach between your legs. “So pretty and wet.”
Your legs trembled as he slid two fingers between your folds, spreading them to expose your leaking entrance. He groaned, low in his chest before quickly diving in to catch some of your arousal on his tongue. You sighed, eyes fluttering close as he swirled his tongue over your clit.
“Ah, Jungkook!” You cried, gripping his hair.
“Fuck,” He growled, pulling back slightly. “Does that feel good, baby?”
“G-Gentle,” You whined, gripping his hair tighter. “It’s sensitive.”
He didn’t respond, simply chuckled before diving back in. He took your clit into his mouth and sucked until your back arched. Soon, he introduced his fingers — easily sliding two in. There was a slight burn but it lasted only a second.
“You can take 3, right?” He chuckled, rolling his tongue over your clit. “You’re gonna need that many to even think of trying to take my knot.”
“Kn-Knot?” You gasped, unable to wrap your head fully around his words as he pumped the two digits in and out.
Your hips bucked when he hit your g-spot. Your eyes rolled as he continued to abuse the spot while playing with your clit in any way he could.
“I’m gonna cum soon, Kook,” You whined, unaware the pet name had slipped through your lips.
He growled, viciously pounding his fingers upwards and suckling your clit into his mouth. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, a tight coil of pleasure winding in your stomach. Opening your eyes, you looked down to see his bangs matted to his forehead with sweat. His eyes were closed and his brows were furrowed in concentration. He looked like he was in utopia himself.
What broke the cord, however, was when he eased the third finger into you. You gasped, back arching as you cried out his name — cumming around the digits. He didn’t stop, fucking your spasming hole and sucking on your twitching clit throughout your entire high until you were whining and pushing him away.
He separated his mouth from you with a lewd pop and slid his fingers out. You felt empty, clenching around nothing as he popped his cum soaked fingers in his mouth. His eyes rolled back at your taste and he chased what was left on his lips until there was nothing left of your cum.
He stood at the foot of the bed, unbuttoning his jeans and letting them slide to the floor until he could step out of them. He wasn’t wearing any underwear and you nearly drooled at the sight of his hard cock— weeping at the flushed, red tip with a soft swell at the base of his cock.
You scooted forward on your knees, wrapping your hand around his shaft and leaning forward to slide your tongue of the slit. He sighed, head falling back on his shoulders as you took the thick head on your mouth and sucked. The taste of his precum was delectable — salty-sweet with a bitter tang.
“You’ll make me cum too fast with your pretty lips on me like that, baby,” He whispered, gripping your hair to pull you away.
You whined at the loss but let him urge you onto your back. Your feet hanging off the end of the bed and Jungkook standing at the end with a fist wrapped around his cock made you lick your lips. He looked so powerful standing over you like he was.
“Scoot back,” He ordered, crawling onto the bed after you.
With your head in the pillows, you spread your legs for him. Knees on either side of his waist, you both looked down to watch as he slid the head of his cock between your wet folds — coating himself in your juices. A split second of hesitation as he positioned his tip at your entrance felt like an eternity.
“Are you sure you want to…?” He asked softly, mindlessly slapped your clit with the head of himself.
“Please,” You gasped, wrapping your hand in his hair to tug him down.
Your mouths simultaneously fell open as he pressed inside, the fat head spreading your walls open. The sound was wet as he sunk inside, dirty and obscene. Your eyes rolled back as he finally bottomed out — the base of him almost as thick as his head.
He dropped down onto his elbows beside your head, pulling you in for another kiss as he began to thrust in and out of your clenching walls.
Every time he sunk inside, he grazed your g-spot making you moan.
“So fucking tight,” He growled. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to take my knot, babygirl.”
“K-Kook—”
“Fuck!” He snarled, cock twitching at the sound of the nickname, slamming his cock into you harshly, making you whined. “Keep calling me that.”
“Kook!” You cried, scrambling to claw at his muscled back.
“I’m gonna knock you up, beautiful,” He breathed, chuckling when he felt you clench around him. “Oh? You like the sound of that? Tell me.”
“Pl-Please kn-knock me up, Kook,” You begged, voice breathy as you fought back sobs of pleasure.
“Yeah, sound so pretty begging for my cum,” He chuckled, reached down to find your swollen clit. “How about you cum for me first?”
Your mouth fell open as everything became even more intense. He didn’t stop the rapid circles on your clit until you were crying out his name and arching. You gushed around him, walls spasming uncontrollably as he fucked you through the high.
As you came down, everything became more intense and sensitive. Every time he sunk inside, the base of his cock would catch at your entrance and stretch you just a tad more. You clung to him, eyes closed as he fucked his knot into your sensitive walls.
“I’m gonna cum,” He warned, suddenly pausing balls deep — his knot popped into your walls, swollen big enough that he couldn't pull back out.
You could feel his cock as it pulsed inside of you — a hot rush of cum immediately following. His head fell into the crook of your neck as he moaned and trembled above you. The knot at the base of his cock throbbed — urging more and more cum out of his cock.
He chuckled darkly, looking down at your swelling tummy — having been stuffed full of his cum that couldn’t escape around his knot.
Your cunt clenched around him and you whined. You felt so full but it felt so good.
Jungkook's nimble fingers found your clit and began to circle the hardened bud in brutal circles. With a dark smirk on his lips, he met your gaze where your eyes were wide and your mouth was open in a silent moan.
"That's it...give it to me, baby," He ordered, grinding his hips against you — his knot and cock stirring your sensitive walls up. “Cum on my knot for me, like a good girl.”
Your head fell back against the pillow as your back arched. The both of you moaned in unison at your orgasm, the tight squeeze and gush from your orgasm set him off again. Tightening his grip on your hips made you whine but the pain blended into the pleasure as Jungkook's knot throbbed as more cum poured into your already well-filled cunt. Slowly, his body relaxed and he heaved a sigh before beginning to change your positions.
His knot tugged at your walls, making you both hiss. You laid side by side, your head resting on his arm.
As you both caught your breath, you felt his knot slowly shrink until he was able to pull out completely. You whimpered at the gush of cum that followed — oozing out of your stretched entrance and staining the bed beneath you.
He groaned, dropping back onto his stomach between your legs. Feeling embarrassed, you moved to close your legs but his strong hands caught you and forced them back open. You covered your face with your hands and whined as he suddenly slid his tongue across your cum-soaked folds.
Absolutely obscene sounds of him moaning and licking you clean filled the space. Your hips jerked in oversensitivity whenever he brushed over your clit.
Sliding his tongue into your entrance, he caught and swallowed down everything he could reach. Him eating his own cum out of you had your walls clenching again and he chuckled before pulling away.
Pulling your hands away from your heated cheeks, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You whined, circling your arms around his neck as he fed his cum into your mouth for you to swallow.
You moaned at the taste of him, swallowing everything he gave you — continuing to kiss long after you swallowed it. The remnants of his cum lingered on your tongue and on his lips.
Pulling back, he leaned his forehead against yours and moved to lay on his side beside you once again. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulled your body close to his.
The two of you dissolved into a comfortable silence; his fingers tracing random shapes along your skin and you taking in his sweet scent and enjoying the warmth of his arms around you.
You were sitting with Jungkook on the floor in front of the couch. Since the table was broken, the two of you were using the couch as a makeshift table. He had an array of papers and old book across the surface and had been spending the last two days teaching you to read the Heajix written alphabet. It was difficult and you frequently confused letters but Jungkook was patient — and gave you kisses whenever you got something right which was great incentive.
Unfortunately, the relaxing atmosphere was broken by a series of knocks on the front door. Jungkook was on his feet immediately, knife drawn and at the ready.
You stayed back, watching as he approached the door and slowly unlocked it. You watched as he took a deep breath and threw the door open.
"What—" Jungkook was at a loss. There was a man standing at the door with his hands up to show he was unarmed.
"My name is Hakyeon," He said, motioning to his badge. "I work for the Interplanetary Embassy on Earth. We received an Emergency beacon and we've been told the human was here."
"Holy shit! It actually got through?!" You cried, jumping to your feet and running over to the open door. "Why did it take you so damn long?"
Hakyeon looked confused, shaking his head. "We received it only 2 days ago...I was the nearest representative and was tasked with finding you."
"Weird..." You mumbled, shrugging your shoulders. "I guess I can go home now, right?"
"If that's what you wish still, yes," He replied, eyeing Jungkook by your side.
"Um," You cleared your throat. "Your ship will be nearby right?"
"Yes, I'll...wait for you there," Hakyeon said, taking the hint.
The door shut and Jungkook was silent.
"Jungkook—"
"I guess you're leaving, right?" He asked, keeping his eyes down. "There's no logical reason for me to ask you to stay here...it's dangerous and you should be somewhere safe."
"But Jungkook..." You reached forward to touch him but he backed away.
"If I'm honest, ______," He wandered away, leaving you to watch him. His voice was shaky, wobbling with the onslaught of tears. "I really don't want you to go and I know that's selfish! But I really don't think I can be alone again. Especially after finding someone I can actually love."
"Jungkook!" You snapped, making him look at you. You sighed speedily walking up to him and pressing your lips to his before he could back away. "I love you too."
"But—"
"Come with me," You whispered, clutching the front of his shirt in your hands. "Come back to Earth with me. We'll find someone there who will help. The Embassy would be more than willing to assist in the cleanup and protection of Palacios and Heajix. You can speak for everyone here who is struggling to survive and those you haven't."
"You want me to come with you?" He breathed, covering your hands with his. Tears still fell from his eyes but in a matter of seconds, he was smiling and pulling you against him in a hug so tight it knocked the air out of you.
"Of course I do, stupid!" You laughed, hugging him back as tight as you could. "Why would I leave you when you refused to leave me, huh?"
"...I love you," He whispered, giving you another kiss.
"Let's get our things together," You said before the two of you separated.
Jungkook packed his bag with anything important, sentimental or not. You noticed he packed his picture away with a sad smile.
Once the two of you were ready, you took his hand and walked out the door. He paused and looked behind him, at the house he'd been living in for the longest time. The boarded up windows and the water reservoir he'd spent ages perfecting.
You squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to you. He smiled, taking the first step away.
You felt yourself relax against the seat once the two of you were on the craft. Jungkook was gripping your hand tight — it was hurting a bit but you didn't say anything. His gaze was locked on the window, watching as his home planet disappeared from view.
The surface was covered in a green, gaseous layer of pollution and smog that he seemed almost surprised to see. The pollution of the planet was most evident one outside of the planet's atmosphere.
"I'm happy you're here, Jungkook," You whispered, leaning your head on his shoulder.
"I am too," He replied, resting his head against yours as he watched the stars and planets pass by until Palacios was out of view.
#btssmutclub#bts smut#jungkook smut#bts scenarios#jungkook scenarios#bts imagines#jungkook imagines#jeongguk smut#jeongguk scenarios#jeongguk imagines#jungkook x reader#jeongguk x reader#bts x reader#bangtan x reader#bts fanfic#jungkook fanfic#jeongguk fanfic#bangtan fanfic
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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
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“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
#bts smut#jimin smut#seokjin smut#namjoon smut#Jungkook smut#bts fantasy au#bts fanfic#bts hybrid au#bts vampire au#werewolf bts#ot7 x reader#jimin x reader#jin x reader#seokjin x reader#taehyung x reader#namjoon x reader#yoongi x reader#jimin fanfic#jungkook x reader#rm x reader#jin fanfic#seokjin fanfic#taehyung fanfic#namjoon fanfic#yoongi fanfic#rm fanfic#bts angst
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Straying into My Heart
Partially inspired by the absolutely delightful tag: Bheem’s little meow meow (which I think was coined by @rambheem-is-real, but if not, let me know who to acknowledge!)
A swift kick against his door startled Ram from his chair. Quickly moving to unlock the door, he grabbed a pocket knife which he kept curled behind his back. And yet, when he opened the door, he was met with a sight so baffling the knife fell onto the small stool beside him.
Standing in the doorway, covered in mud and sand, with his jet black curls now a pale brown was Akthar. Specifically, he was in an equally dirty dothi, and in hands a squirming mass wrapped in a towel. Outside the drizzle turned into a downpour.
"Oh thank God you were home, I was worried I may have to break the door to get in." Akthar said as he shouldered past Ram, who was still frozen with a half open mouth. "Anna close the door or you'll let the water in!"
Mechanically locking the door, Ram followed Akthar, grimacing as he caught sight of the muddy footprints. At least the younger man had avoided dripping any onto his books. In the small bathroom, Ram found Akthar with his sleeves rolled up, humming a song that was being drowned out by the whimpers of whatever was inside the towel.
"Akthar, what the hell is going on? What is in the towel? Why are you covered in mud?!" Ram exclaimed.
Akthar looked at him apologetically. "Sorry about disturbing you Anna, i just didn't want to aggravate his injuries farther and your place was closer than mine."
"Him? Injured? What are you taking about?"
In lieu of answering, Akthar unwrapped the towel, revealing a very angry cat that tried to lunge at Ram, claws gleaming in the sunlight filtering through the window. Ram backed away in surprise, arms raised to protect himself, but Akthar caught hold of the animal, grip strong enough that no amount of squirming would let him be released.
It was...it wasn't a particularly attractive cat, covered as it was in mud. One of it's ears was weirdly shaped and Ram realized it was too straight a wound to not have been man made. Above it's piercing black eyes was a small cut, and in them was a fury at being manhandled. Ram would have laughed if he didn't get the distinct feeling this cat was battle hardened and would aim for his throat.
"Ay, ay, just relax little one, I'm trying to help you!" Akthar cooed at the cat, bring it to his chest and running one of his huge hands down its back. He kept up the cooing until the cat stopped shredding at his arms and relaxed slightly, realizing they weren't going to hurt him further.
Akthar beamed the cat, cuddling the thing closer as he switched to whispering nonsense at whole simultaneously wetting the old towel in the water. Then switching his hold to pin the cat to him, he started to clean it, matching the volume of his comforting words to the volume of the cats yowls.
Ram stayed where he was, mesmerized as Akthar managed to turn the feral animal into a tame one.
He did notice when the water started running red. The cat must have been seriously injured to have that much blood on him.
Once Akthar had gotten the cat as clean as he could manage he turned to Ram.
"Anna, could you take him while I clean myself up?"
"Me?" Ram asked, strangled. "I-uh, I'm not the best with....animals." he finished lamely.
"Nonsense, look at him, he's exhausted. You just plop him down on a pillow and I am sure he will go right to sleep." He lifted the cat to look him in the eyes. "Yes you will won't you? Because you're such a brave and handsome and good kitten..."
Ram felt oddly like he was dying as he watched Akthar praise the cat more.
And an even odder desire to be the cat.
“Right. Just. Hold on a minute!” Ram yelled over his shoulder as he dashed back into his room, taking out his bigger shirt and loosest pants and a clean towel. He left them in a stool near the bathroom door.
“For when you are done cleaning yourself. Remember to also clean the mud from the bathroom too?” Ram asked, gulping as he stretched his arms away from himself.
Akthar laughed. “Anna, if you try to hold him like that he will be scared. Cats usually scratch people because they don’t feel secure. Here, come closer for a minute.”
“Akthar…”
“Just trust me.” Akthar said, looking at him with such a warm smile Ram melted to his knees in front of him on the dry side of the bathroom threshold..
Akthar switched to hold the cat in one hand, the beast still looking at him imperiously but secure in its position. Akthar positioned his hands and told him to hold them steady as he transferred the bundle of cat and towel into Ram’s arms.
Ram stiffened as the animal sat in his hands, both human and animal evaluating each other. Ram’s eyes widened in panic as the cat started to stiffen in his ow arms, preparing for an attack, only for Akthar to start stroking him over the towel again. He kept doing it till the animal calmed down, and Ram had a second of wanting Akthar to calm him the same way.
“There we go. Go on Anna, I will be out in a few minutes. Just put him down on the warmest part of the floor, and lock the doors so he doesn’t run away. He is quite tired, I’m sure he will fall asleep right away.” Akthar said as he pushed at Ram.
Ram kept his eyes trained on the cat, but as Akthar said, the cat merely yawned and rubbed itself on his chest before settling into his arms. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Ram went to the place near his big window, lowering himself to the ground before gently laying the cat on the floor.
The cat squirmed inside the towel some more, stretching again as it yawned before curling into itself.
Tentatively, Ram lay an arm on it’s side, pressing his hand more firmly when the cat didn’t react.
Now that he had been cleaned, one could see the cat had dark black fur, with a white belly, and a white stripe on one of it’s feet, plus a few on it’s tail.
Ram started running his fingers through his fur, softly at first, then sinking them in a little deeper. He paused when he felt vibrations beneath his hand, but then continued when the cat kept sleeping.
That was how Akthar found him, Ram sitting against the wall, one hand on top of the cat’s head, and the other stroking him.
“See, I told you you’d like him.” Akthar whispered as he lowered himself on Ram’s other side so that the cat lay between their thighs.
Ram’s lips curled upward. “I’ve never had a lot of chance to interact with animals. Or the desire to. Mostly I ignored them, and they ignored me.”
Akthar hummed. “Animals are wonderful Anna. So smart and they feel just as much as we do. They also love their cubs, they play with their kittens, they feel hunger and fear and anger. People all like to claim that we are so much better than these other creatures, but look at the state of us. I look at them, and,” Akthar shrugged. “Life might be a lot simpler if we had been born anything but human.”
Ram’s heart ached at the deep sadness in Akthar’s voice, but he didn’t know the words to help him.
Akthar shifted to lift the cat, and before Ram could protest, placed him on Ram’s lap. The cat blinked his eyes open for a minute before turning until he found a comfortable position. Namely, trying to burrow into Ram’s stomach.
“What do you think we should name him?” Akthar asked, breath fanning across Ram’s cheeks as the younger man leaned over his shoulder.
Ram tried to contain his shiver, the combination of Akthar’s soft voice, warm body at his back, and the adoring look he was directing at him all being fatal to his concentration.
“Um.”
Akthar giggled, before running a hand over the cat’s head, fingers brushing over Ram’s stomach.
Ram did not whimper.
It was close though.
“If you name it you get attached to it. Are you planning on keeping him?” Ram finally managed to ask, so grateful his voice did not crack.
Akthar bit his lip as he scratched his head, and god why was Ram so weak?
“I was hoping you would?” Akthar asked, and Ram’s world shifted back into focus.
“Wait, what?”
“It’s just. Well you see my sister is allergic to cats, and I don’t want to put him back in the street Anna, look at him. I found him shivering under a crate, he had been so scratched up by some other street cats and starving. He practically swallowed both the fish I gave him. It was only after he had finished eating that I could get him still enough to be picked up.”
Ram stared down at the cat, and then back at Akthar’s doe eyes, so filled with hope.
“Absolutely not.”
Akthar’s pout magnified, eyes somehow getting even larger. “Don’t say that Anna, where will he go?”
To make matters worse, Akthar was now leaning on him, one arm curling at Ram’s elbow, and damn it no, he had a mission, he could not afford a pet!
“Akthar, when I am out at work, I can’t leave him here by himself! All my books will be destroyed!” Ram said, the excuse sounding pathetic to him.
Akthar sat up again, “That’s not a problem Anna, I can come by during my lunch breaks and before I go for work to feed him, I can take care of him all by myself, could you please just let him stay here?”
Ram looked at him helplessly, feeling how close he was to caving, but he shook his head.
“I’m really sorry Akthar, I can’t.”
Akthar’s shoulders slumped as his smile disappeared, face disappointed as he looked at the cat. Ram wanted that look gone.
“Wait, how about we ask the family downstairs? The grandmother with the two grandchildren who always gives you laddus?”
Akthar’s eyes lit up. “Bhagya didi? Anna that is a great idea!”
Ram ducked his head, feeling himself flush. “Hmm, I’m sure you can convince them to take him in. You’re very difficult to say no to.”
Akthar leaned in close, and Ram forgot to breathe. “You just told me no.”
Ram’s mouth dropped open, and there must have been some panic showing because Akthar backed away, though he had raised an eyebrow. There was a meow from the cat, and both men turned to it.
“We should still name him.” Akthar said.
“Why?” Ram asked confused.
“Because I found him! That means I get to name him!” Akthar declared, looking so proud of his logic. Ram couldn’t help but watch him with a besotted grin. What a fool he was. And Akthar too.
Knocking his head back against the wall, Ram hummed. “Fine. What do you want to name him?”
Akthar’s expression changed to one of deep concentration, his brows furrowing adorably as he bit his thumb. A minute later he snapped his fingers, eyes alight with mischief. “I know the perfect name for him!”
Ram raised an eyebrow, gaze still focused on the cat he had started stroking again. “Are you going to share your idea?”
“Raju!”
Ram squawked, both at the name and the fact Akthar reached to his lap and lifted the cat again who hissed in displeasure at being so rudely woken but blinked at the other man.
“What do you say dearest? Are you Raju? Yes you are, oh that name suits you!” Akthar cooed while Ram gaped at him.
“We are not calling him Raju!” Ram finally rasped out, and now it was Akthar’s turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow.
“And why not Anna? You said I could name him. I want to name him Raju.” Akthar said firmly. Then he pressed a kiss to the top of the cat’s head. “Yes, you are my precious Raju aren’t you, so handsome and well-behaved.”
Ram whimpered faintly. Is this what dying felt like. How pathetic.
“Why Raju…” he begged, voice still faint as he continued watching Akthar shower affection on the cat.
He refused to be jealous of the cat.
God, he was doing a terrible job of it.
Akthar laughed, still not looking at him. “Because. He is handsome, and brave, and so strong. Just like you!”
That whimper definitely escaped him because Akthar finally lowered the cat to look at him, eyes widening at the sight of Ram.
“Anna! Are you ok?”
Was Ram ok? No. Definitely not.
He gave him his faintest smile and a thumbs up before leaving the room. With dignity.
He did not run out of the room. The disturbed papers floating to the ground in his wake had nothing to do with the speed of his exit.
He splashed his face with water, and looked at himself in the mirror.
“Get it together you idiot.” He hissed at himself before returning to the room. Only, he paused at the corner when he heard Akthar continue speaking.
“Hey you are up! Oh let me see, such big eyes you have, you’re so smart aren’t you. I am going to get you the biggest fish I can find tomorrow as a treat. My little Raju. I will visit you everyday with a fish. You will grow so strong and handsome and rule the streets.”
When Ram dared to peek into the room, he saw Akthar rubbing his forehead against the cat’s face, and the cat in turn had curled his tail around Akthar’s wrist and was purring in delight.
On the other hand, dying by accidentally slipping in his bathroom might be a less painful death than this. At this point he did not think he had any dignity to save.
///
@rorapostsbl, @alikokinav, hey since you guys asked to be tagged! What do you think? Did I get the characterization right? And did I name the cat appropriately?
#rrr#rrr fanfic#ram x bheem#alluri sitarama raju#komuram bheem#my fic#my writing#let me know what you think!#bheem's little meow meow#rambheem
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Ashbert Headcanons: Intimacy
Note: These random headcanons are about romantic and sexual intimacy.
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Ash is an incredibly clingy boyfriend. Not in a "he calls you every five minutes" kind of clingy, but like physically. He loves to hug and kiss and nuzzle Herbert or just straight up scoop the scientist into his arms. While Herbert is in the lab, Ash likes to just hug on him from behind or kneel between Herbert's legs and just hug around his waist. And Ash will just stay there. Not talk or tickle or make sexual jokes. He'll just exist in the reality where he has a partner who is alive and safe. Since he's not a bother, Herbert lets him do as he pleases because Herbert's still allowed to work.
Herbert has subtle little habits to convey his feelings for Ash. He'll make a sandwich if Ash had a bad day. On days where Herbert's mood is a little perkier and loud sounds aren't agitating, he leave the lab and sit down in the living room to watch whatever mind-numbing show Ash is watching. When Ash has had a deadite incident or had to deal with Herbert's experiments, Herbert will silently start checking him over for new wounds.
Herbert is asexual but not sex-repulsed. Sex is just not appealing to him. He has like zero interest in it. He'd rather be doing other things. He doesn't engage in sex often and when he does (he's not entirely selfish, he's willing to let his partner have fun), it takes quite a bit of work to get him into a receptive mood.
While Ash is not hypersexual, he can be both hyper and sexual. He can get rather needy. It's an enjoyable pastime as well as a coping mechanism for trauma. Herbert knows this and tries to accommodate him by saying its alright for Ash to go get a fling for the night (Herbert rather he'd not but shoves that part down). But for all Ash's many flaws, he's a loyal, loving partner with a heart that's just a bit too deep and scarred (Herbert always finds Linda's necklace in Ash's pocket). He puts off his needs/desires to wait for whenever it might be that Herbert's feeling up to screwing around.
Sometimes Herbert will let Ash fuck him even if Herbert's a little checked out/uninterested emotionally at the time. He is not above reading while Ash does his thing.
Sometimes during sex or directly afterwards, Ash's bravado will shatter. He's a very tired man with lots of trauma. Especially concerning romantic partners. Sometimes he just needs to kneel over Herbert, face pressed to the scientist's chest and arms wrapped tightly round him. Just muttering muffled words no one's going to comprehend because there's too much stress and pain and constant anxiety that's just building to a head.
Herbert isn't a fan of most sweets. He just doesn't have much of a sweet tooth and he's very picky. But he won't way what it is that he likes. Ash just keeps getting him little treats and keeps an eye on what kinds Herbert actually takes seconds of.
Ash isn't one for picking fights. He honestly really doesn't like conflict. He's got enough problems with deadites, he doesn't need to be on some human's shitlist as well. But he will step up and raise his voice if someone starts talkin' bad about his boyfriend. Later he'll convey the events to Herbert, who simply scoffs and mocks whatever shitty excuse of insults were used against him.
Herbert's a loner and a bet of a gremlin, but he does get lonely. He enjoys showing off his work. He wants to engage his partner with whatever he's working on. So sometimes when the urge to speak is strong, he'll go to Ash and begin to gush about the progress he's made or bitch about the complications he's having in his work. Ash only understands like 65% of what Herbert babbles about but is and engaged listener, asking questions to which he won't understand the answers to. All to see just how animated his boyfriend gets while talking.
#In My Dreamrealm || Headcanons#herbert west#ash williams#re-animator#reanimator#evil dead#ashbert#ash x herbert#ash/herbert#ash williams/herbert west#my art#long post
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