#We Are Bulletproof Pt. 1

[bangtanstoriesondan]

Chapter 1: We Are Bulletproof Pt. 1

Warnings: 18+ content, strong language, acts of violence, thievery, depictions of child abuse, mentions of a suicide attempt/suicidal thoughts, mentions of blood, and depictions of domestic violence

[Daegu, Korea - Circa 2007]

“Hey! What are you doing? STOP!” the older gentleman bellowed. The startled young teen took off running once he heard the man coming from the back of the store with his hands still in the cash register.

The juvenile pulled whatever money he could grab and took off running out of the convenience store. “STOP! THIEF! STOP! HEY!” The store owner chased after the adolescent robber down the street.

Shortly after, a younger child entered the empty convenience store and locked the front door. He smirked as his baseball bat slid down the sleeve of his hoodie. Once he gripped the bat, he began trashing the unprotected store.

Breaking glass canisters, knocking over shelves, he pocketed any candy that wasn’t smashed into the ground and hopped over the counter and stole the remaining money from the register. As the child came back around the counter and unlocked the door to leave the store, he paused when he heard the footsteps of someone rapidly approaching behind him.

“Yo! What the fuck k-” before the person could finish their sentence the boy began viciously swinging the bat trying to attack the mysterious person trying to get him.

“Holy shit!” the young man barely ducked every attempt the boy made to assault him.

The second the store employee saw his opening, he tackled the prepubescent child to the ground and pinned him there. He was roughly the same age as the first thief, but much taller. The agitated child was no match for him either way. But that didn’t stop the boy from trying to break free.

“You’re not getting out of this little man, forget it!” The store worker tightens his grip on the child. The door chimed open and they both looked up to see the store owner returning out of breath and empty handed.

“AY YA! My beautiful store!” The owner's hands gripped the top of his head in anguish. He quickly looked down to see the second thief pinned down.

“GOOD! At least we got one of those little bastards, I’m calling the police. Keep him down!” The older man gritted his teeth as he walked over them, heading to the back of the store.

“You hear that kid, you’re in trouble now.” The store worker smirked.

The young boy briefly looked up then looked at the store clerk again. “I’m in trouble?” he replied.

“Yeah.” The store clerk replied.

The young boy smirked mischievously. “So are you.” he quickly spat in the clerk’s face. Before the clerk could wipe his face, he felt a fist hit him at full speed in the jaw and the young man fell back, freeing the child who was laughing as he ran off with the teen boy from earlier.

“FUCK!” was the last thing the mischievous boys heard as they ran down the road at top speed.

The boys ducked into an alleyway and out of sight. The older boy swiftly peeked around the corner to see if they were followed. The both were trying to regain their breath after a narrow escape.

The younger boy begins to laugh. “That was fucking awesome! The way you punched that guy outta nowhere and he fell bac-” His was cut off by the older one pushing him against the cold brick wall.

“Hey! I thought I told you to only take the money from the register. The bat was only to keep anyone from grabbing you, not to fuck up the store. If you did what I told you, I wouldn’t have had to come back to save your ass!” the older boy huffed.

“Where is the bat I gave you?” he continued.

“I lost it.” the younger boy shrugged.

“You lost my fucking bat, you idiot!” the older boy shoved him, the younger boy pushed him off.

“But that doesn’t matter, we still got away bro! Look at all this money we got!” the younger boy retorted.

“How many times do I have to tell you Taehyung, you’re not my brother… you’re my half-brother and that chump change doesn’t mean shit if we get arrested because you always have to do extra shit.” The older teen hissed.

“My fault ‘half-brother’, why do you always think your way is the right way Yoongi? If we only took the money, he’ll put up cameras and then we can’t hit the store anymore. But if we trash the place while robbing it, the owner would have to focus more on fixing up the place and we can do it again.” Yoongi’s half-brother retorted.

“Tae, are you fucking dumb? The store worker had a good look at your face for a long time. We can never go back there!” Yoongi kissed his teeth. “C’mon, let’s go home. It’s getting late.”

———

Yoongi and Tae crept slowly into the apartment as nighttime fell in Daegu. They tried to watch their steps to avoid any creaking of the old, worn down wood floor as Tae tried to slowly close the door. Tae closed the door harder than he thought, and the boys paused holding their breath before they proceeded. The moment Yoongi turned around he felt a hard smack across his face which landed him on the floor.

Tae was wide eyed and stood in fear as he saw his father standing over Yoongi. Tae slowly backed up from the scene, then froze when his dad looked up and pointed at him.

“Don’t you fucking move or you get it too!” he threatened.

He then grabbed Yoongi by the collar and began to repeatedly punch Yoongi in the face. Yoongi’s mother ran from the room and tried to pull him off of her son.

“Woo-Sung! Woo-Sung, that’s ENOUGH! STOP IT! GET OFF OF HIM!” She wailed, grabbed his arm trying to stop him, but her husband shook her off.

“You want my son to be a piece of shit like you, eh? You are a thieving piece of trash! I know what you two were up to!” Woo-Sung continued to land blows repeatedly on Yoongi’s face and ribs. “A fucking useless bastard like you is less than fucking dog shit!” Woo-Sung spat on Yoongi as they both rose slowly from the floor.

Woo-Sung then turned to backhand Yoongi’s mother Eunji so strong she fell to the ground still sobbing.

“Bitch, don’t ever do that shit to me again, or I’ll kill you.” Woo-Sung was the most drunk that he has ever been on many nights like these. He could barely stand straight, but his wrath was as potent as ever.

Woo-Sung walked over and grabbed Eunji by her hair. Before he could strike her again. Yoongi grabbed him and threw him to the ground yelling and cursing at him to stop. Taehyung quickly cowered into the corner covering his head and ears as he began crying while all three of them argued loudly.

Yoongi repeatedly landed blows on Woo-Sung while in his blood stained his clothes. His mother begged for him to stop, but Yoongi kept punching him again and again. By the time he got off of Woo-Sung, Yoongi’s arm was completely numb and his hand was covered with blood. Taehyung slowly lifted his head in disbelief of the mayhem he was witnessing. Yoongi’s mother quickly ran to comfort his step-father, the same man that he was defending her from.

“Oh my God, what have you done?” her voice quivered.

Those words instantly filled him with hot, white rage before he spoke.

“What have I done?! He was going to beat you! How could you let this piece of shit treat you like this?! Treat me like this?! Where is your pride? Oppa would nev-”

‘ENOUGH!” Eunji bellowed, cutting her son off.

“Your Oppa isn’t here anymore! He is GONE! And I can’t raise the two of you on my own, I need him.” she looked down as she caressed Woo-Sung’s head before looking back at her son.

“Get out, I don’t want you living here anymore. I won’t have you corrupting our son.” Her words stung like fresh venom in Yoongi’s veins. She never heard her speak like this.

“Wh-What? What are you talking about?” Yoongi’s voice softened.

“GET. OUT!” she screamed.

“I’m your son too, you can’t kick me out. Where will I go?” Yoongi’s anger was building again.

“You brought this family enough shame, you will not take Taehyung down with you. Now leave and never come back!” Eunji began sobbing over her abuser.

Yoongi looked over at Tae who remained in the corner of the wall, still paralyzed with fear. Yoongi looked back at his mother and then nodded.

“Okay, fine. I’ll leave. Don’t expect me to bury you after he kills you in front of him.” he points at Tae.

Yoongi walked back to his room, grabbed his knapsack, and filled it with whatever clothes were clean, some toiletries, and took and took the money he had hidden behind his drawer and put it in his pocket. It was a good ₩1,240,800.00 (About $1,000 USD). He went under his bed and took out a Nike shoebox and opened it to reveal several bags of weed and a loaded handgun. He stashed the drugs, money,  and weapon in his pockets and walked out back out to the living room. Yoongi stood next to his mother as he  pulled the money from his pocket, he tapped his mother’s shoulder with the large wad of cash. She looked at him trying to hand her the money.

“Umma, this is for you.” Yoongi calmly spoke.

“I don’t want your cursed money, it stinks of evil. I don’t want it and I will never use it, now go.” his mother coldly replied.

Yoongi sighed as he pocketed the money and walked out the door. Tae started calling out for Yoongi as he got up from the floor.

“Yoongi hyung! Yoongi hyung, wait!” Tae’s voice was loud, but cracking.

“Taehyung don’t! He’s no good, let him go!” Eunji called out.

Taehyung ignored their mother as he ran out the door and ran down the pitch black road to catch up with him.

“Go home Tae.” Yoongi said not even looking at him.

“YOONGI SSI!” Tae screamed which caused Yoongi to stop in his tracks and face his half-brother.

“You can’t leave! I don’t want you to leave!” Taehyung began crying again, Yoongi stood there expressionless.

“Where will you go? You can’t be out here by yourself, it’s too dangerous!” Tae tears turned into sobs of anguish.

“Whatever happens to me doesn’t matter. I never wanted to be alive for this long anyway. I guess I may get what I always wanted.” Yoongi sighed.

Yoongi took out the money from his pocket and handed it to Tae.

“Hyung, I can’t take that. You need it more than me.” Tae refused the money.

“No, I’ll be fine. You know that damn drunk pisses away his money. Just help Umma with the bills from time to time and groceries too. Don’t tell her nothing, just take care of her. She needs us, she just doesn’t get it yet.” Yoongi tried to reassure him.

“Are you sure?” Tae reluctantly took the money.

“I’m sure, now head back home. Don’t make her worry.” Yoongi licked his lips, keeping his same blank expression.

Tae swiftly, but firmly hugged Yoongi. Yoongi slowly hugged his step-brother back, accepting his embrace.

“Stay safe hyung, I’ll pay you back… I promise.” Tae pocketed the money and sniffled as he wiped his tears.

“Hurry back.” Yoongi shooed him off.

Tae smiled as he ran back home. Yoongi turned back around and quickly wiped his silent tears as he walked in the opposite direction.

“Shit!” he spoke under his breath as he braved the late night streets alone.

[cowgodmoo]

150609 - we are bulletproof pt. 1

[ulfdistracted]

BANGTAN SONGFEST, ROUND 1

[euphoricfilter]

come sit on my lap:

pairing: jungkook x afab! reader

genre: porn without plot || smut || established relationship || non-idol au (?)

tags/ warnings: pwp, mentioned masturbation, thigh riding, dick riding, praise kink, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid, this is fiction), creampie, mentioned cum stuffing because it didn’t make the cut. afab! reader (no gendered nicknames are used, terms like pussy is used though)

notes: listened to we are bulletproof pt.1 while writing this so do with that information what you will. yoongi’s part has me creaming myself it’s so delicious

notes 2: slight changes have been made from the original plan, otherwise this would have probably been 10k words of straight smut

my full masterlist || archived masterlist

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

“you’re home early”

jungkook’s gaze flickers to where you’re stood in the doorway of the living room, your eyebrows furrowing. it wasn’t displeasure painted across your face, just curious confusion.

“i missed you” he instead replies, the corners of his lips quirking upwards.

you slip further into the room, used to jungkook’s eyes on you. the rawest form of silent appreciation for the living art that stood before him; perfect in such a human way. jungkook never thought he’d find the right words to describe you. not when you looked so pretty, and perfect, and every other lame excuse of a word that was never really enough to encapsulate your entire existence.

his eyes glaze over the flush of your cheeks, sure to have just gotten out the bath. you liked to treat yourself on your days off, slipping into the hazy water, scented with the fancy bubble bath jungkook liked to treat you to.

you meet his gaze, head tilting in a silent question of what he was doing.

“come sit on my lap” he hums, “been thinking about you all day”

it’s neither a sigh nor a laugh that spills from your lips, maybe amusement. maybe love. maybe an unexplainable emotion that you reserved especially for jungkook, and jungkook only.

“yeah?”

and he nods, taking your hand into his own once you’re close enough. he tugs you down, helping you straddle one of his thighs; exactly where he’d wanted you.

he’d been thinking about this all day. how slick your cunt would get, always so easy to rile up. how he wanted to suck meanly on your poor little clit until you cried, and you begged for him to take the barest hint of mercy on you.

the mere thought of you sat in his lap, desperate for him to bring you that mind-numbing pleasure you loved to much— had his cock hardening in his pants.

if he had any lick of shame, then he might have felt guilt for getting himself off in the bathroom during his lunch break. his cock spit-soaked sticky, fist tugging at his length, a pitiful imitation of what your pussy would feel like squeezing his length until he came into his fist.

“so pretty” his hands slip down to your waist, lithe fingers barely grazing underneath your shirt, his chest deflating at the touch of your warm skin.

his thigh flexes, and you have to bite your lip to stop the moan that threatened to slip out— a flit of pleasure crawling up your body.

and as subtle as you’d like to be, jungkook can’t help the slow smile that pulls at his cheeks. not when he can feel your pussy clenching through your thin sleep shorts.

he wonders how long it’ll take for them to soak through. or how long it’ll take you to beg he run his fingers over your pussy, pressing over your clit. sinking past your walls and pressing meanly over your sweet spot until you’re shaking and begging ever so sweetly.

your hips roll forwards ever so slightly, desperation seeping from every morsel of your body. desperate for the faintest of friction to solve the issue you found yourself facing.

“don’t be shy, baby” jungkook hums, fingers digging into the meat of your hips, “use me”

“don’t say things like that” you whine, hands coming to cover your face, hot embarrassment searing your cheeks the faintest pink.

jungkook’s head tips backwards, low laugh rumbling from his chest. he flexes his thigh, cock throbbing at the moan that gets caught in the back of your throat.

“hands away from your face, come on. you know i love how pretty you look when you feel good” he takes hold of your wrists, tugging your hands to his chest.

your tongue wets your bottom lip as you find your rhythm, hips rocking forward in desperate little circles.

one of your hands slips from jungkook’s hold, thighs straining as you push yourself up. you slide the crotch of your shorts to the side, bare pussy clenching when it come in contact with jungkook’s pants.

“no panties?”

you smile, shaking your head.

you fumble with jungkook’s belt as you rut your hips forward, delicious pleasure spreading up your body with each drag of your clit against his thigh.

“want your cock” you press a kiss to his jaw, warm breath tickling his skin.

“yeah?” his voice comes out breathless.

“mhmm”

jungkook helps you, undoing his button as you push yourself to kneel over this thigh. you moan when his bare skin knocks against your clit, lifting his hips to pull his underwear down, fabric pooling at his ankles as you slip your shorts off.

your fingers wrap around his shaft, spit dribbling from your tongue onto the tip of his cock.

you jolt forwards when curious fingers part your labia, teasing over you hole.

“fuck” you whine when a finger slips into you, curling as a thumb rubs over your clit.

you squeeze his cock, thumbing the underside of the head, smearing the pearly little beads of pre cum down his shaft.

“spit on it, baby” jungkook looks at you through hooded eyes, tongue toying with his lip ring as you bounce ever so slightly on the second finger jungkook slips into your pussy.

you spit into your palm, mind too muddled to cringe at the stickiness that clings to your skin as you curl your fingers back around his cock, wrist flicking how you know he likes it.

“so good for me” he groans, hips bucking up into your hand, “come here”

his fingers slip from your cunt, helping you fully straddle his lap. his cock slides against your thigh, trail of pre cum painting your skin sticky. weird, primal satisfaction buzzing through jungkook’s veins as he marks you up with his leaking arousal.

you take hold of jungkook’s face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks.

“gimme a kiss” you whisper against his lips, “please”

“so polite” he murmurs, tilting his face, lips pillowing yours.

your mouth parts, breathy sigh licked up by jungkook as he presses his tongue past your lips.

blindly you take ahold of his cock, tugging at it once before you line him up with your entrance.

your hips rock forwards, folds parting around his cock. fizzling pleasure vibrating within you with each nudge of his cockhead against your clit.

“don’t tease” his voice comes out low, tongue prodding at your bottom lip. so shiny, a mixture of both your spit mingled and threatening to drip down your chin.

“sorry” you lift your hips up, tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. your hands brace on his shoulders, thighs quivering with each thick inch of jungkook’s cock sliding further between your walls.

“oh fuck” you moan, head falling onto his shoulder as you bottom out.

jungkook’s fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, stomach tightening in pleasure as your walls clench around his cock.

“you okay?” jungkook asks, hips barely rutting up into you.

“yeah, just feels nice” you trail a finger between your bodies, fingers thrumming ever so slightly over your clit.

arousal soaks jungkook’s cock, dribble of slick wetting his balls.

“might get tired though” you tell him as you sit up a little bit, hips rocking forward.

“i’ll help you” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.

you hum at that. feeling a twinge of a burn in your thighs as you push yourself up, head of his cock still sheathed within you before you drop back down his full length.

you think the air is punched from your lungs, hand that had been playing with your clit balancing yourself on his knee.

“shit, baby” jungkook groans, pulling you up his cock from your ass, “loosen up a bit”

you shake your head, mouth falling open, a moan cutting you off when his cock knocks against your sweet spot. desperation and adrenaline a fiery combination that has you pushing through the pain in your thighs, pussy swallowing his cock over and over until you’re leaking slick, and jungkook can’t help the moan that spills from his lips.

“jungkook” you cry, “s’ so good”

you feel yourself hurdling closer to an orgasm, each rugged stroke of his cock, and each brutal brush against your sweet spot sending you into overdrive.

“gonna cum?” he asks, fingers digging into your hips as he thrusts up into you. merciless and be chases his own high, rutting up into your with a new found vigour that has you hiccuping— nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

you wilt into his chest, fingers curling into his shirt as you reach your peak; quickly tumbling down the other side as jungkook’s balls slap wetly against your ass, pleasure fueled moans a harmony with your own.

you feel jungkook’s cock twitch as you ride out your high, cunt creamy leaking down his balls as he cums; coating your walls sticky with his seed.

he ruts up into you once more, hands pulling you down as far as you can on his cock as he empties himself out inside of you. thick pulses of cum spilling into you.

“fuck” his head knocks against the back of the couch, “you’re milking me” he laughs, balls tightening when your walls clench around his softening length.

your chest stutters for a breath, hips twitching at the aftermath of your orgasm.

“you’re insatiable” jungkook licks his bottom lip when you circle your hips. “gonna have to give me a minute to recover”

jungkook lays you back, fumbling around for the small pillows propped up against the arm of the couch. he pulls the bottom half of your body up by your ankles, slipping two pillows under your hips.

“no clenching. and no spilling; i plan to stuff you full tonight” he raises an eyebrow, a silent challenge to disobey.

he runs his fingers through your slit, barely dipping between your walls to push his seed back inside of you.

“think you can do that?”

you nod, “don’t make me cum, otherwise it’s gonna make a mess of the pillows”

“you’ll be making more than a mess of the pillows” his nose scrunches. and you’re unsure if it’s bubbly love that fills your body, possibly a new wave of arousal.

maybe both.

[spencerreidsreads]

PART 3: CRIMINAL MINDS FIC RECS - (S.R and A.H)

(Link to part 1 and part 2)

Aaron Hotchner:

@luveline - If Things Go Bad… Not Fault, Just Love

@chvoswxtch - Baby

@ssahotchnerr - Whole masterlist pt 1 & 2

@ptersparkers - Reckless

@headkiss - Steady Hand… Something More

@ynscrazylife - I Need To Be Excused

@hotchnisslvr - Power Struggle… How Do We Carry On? & pt2

@anothermansjeans - Kaleidoscope

@thewulf - Bulletproof Bonds

@hotchnerxo - The Chances You Take (series)

@miley1442111 - Pinky Promises

@em-prentiss - The Comfort of You

@zvdvdlvr - I Love You pt1, pt2… We Regret To Inform You

@navia3000 - So Long London pt1, pt2, pt 3

@undiscl0sed-desir3s - Go Ahead and Cry Little Girl pt1 and pt2… Give Peace a Chance (series)

@atlabeth - Dance Until We’re Bones

@14buddy22 - How Far We’ve Come (series)

@basketonthedoorstepofthefbi - Look at Me

@kisses4reid - Red Tissue

@write-orflight - Trouble (series)

[justbelievinginmagic]

the dragon-blood chronicles ⎯ part 1: the spark.

pairing: namjoon x reader series summary: There are tales about dragon-blood men ruling over the kingdom of Bangtan for centuries; old myths that Crown-Prince Seokjin and second-born Prince Namjoon heard while growing up. Stories about bullet-proof, fire-breathing serpetine creatures with the ability to shift into human form and dominate the land with an iron fist. It was a fable of power, but just that - a fable. Dragon-blood folk have been gone for centuries. But when Prince Namjoon get sent away from the Palace at a young age for unruly behavior, things being to change in the kingdom as a war beings to brew, causing eight magical fates to intertwine. glimpse: Namjoon was the second born. The useless prince. The back-up. Forgotten and locked in a tower of a far-off castle, he brewed in his uncontrollable frustration at his fate... until a spark ignites that changes the path of the kingdom. warnings/tags: This is a repost of an older oneshot inspired by the song, we are bulletproof pt. 2 i wrote! i've updated it a bit to loop into the larger story and just to follow the way i write now! ive added about 2.5k new content so if you liked the og give this one a look! PG-13, Romance, Fantasy/Royalty AU, bad family dynamics, possessive & protective Namjoon, dragons, unspoken love, illness. word count: 7.1 k -> next chapter series masterlist

Heavy was the crown on the head of a king.

Namjoon wouldn’t know about that though – even if he wanted to know what the hefty load of a kingdom on his shoulders felt like, he would never have it. He was, after all, the second born. A spare prince. A back-up king. Second to the throne, third in life of the royal family.

The king, naturally, was first. First to enter a room, first to eat their meals (after a servant tested it for poison, of course.) But after him, it was Seokjin.

From birth, Seokjin was first for everything. First to be taught, first to eat, first to be tended to, first to be trained at swordsmanship. Namjoon was quick to learn that as he hobbled around the halls of the palace as a youngster. He was ignored among the royal family – seemingly weaker, smaller than his older brother when born. He made the queen quite sick during her pregnancy. When born, Namjoon was prone to illness as a child. An annoyance, a drain on the kingdom’s resources.

He still tried to follow after his older brother.  Seokjin, eldest by three years, tried when he could to be a good bother. He loved the idea of a younger brother, wanting to be the best of friends. He wanted to play Knights and Fiends with him; he wanted to teach him how to read and write; he wanted them to go on fishing trips like he read about in his fairytale books. The older brother played with his little brother only to have the sounds of his nanny calling to him distract him.

“Come along, Prince Seokjin. You have your classes. Leave him alone.”

He hated it, but complied with a frown towards Namjoon and a sad wave.

Namjoon, at the mere age of seven, couldn’t help but begin to try to gain attention. He wanted attention. He wanted to have all the attention that his brother had. He began to do what a child does when upset. Tantruming. Pleading for attention through misaction or disobedience. He’d throw his food to the ground at dinners, arms crossing over his little chest. He’d interrupt classes with cries of ‘this isn’t fair’. He’d fight as his nanny dragged him away from Seokjin, screaming. It grew to such a state – even with Seokjin’s quiet scold of pleadings - “Namjoonie, you’re going to get into trouble; please stop” – that the royal family acted.

That was when he learned he wasn’t loved.

Not like Seokjin. Never like Seokjin.

Namjoon was cast aside. Thrown into a tower at another castle. He was stole in the night – taken in a carriage and awoke in this new place. Alone.

His family didn’t love him. No, they didn’t. The little boy cried and cried.  

Namjoon was utterly alone now; all in the name that he couldn’t “distract the crown prince from his duties.” He was cared for enough to know that he was still a prince. Given the finest of things – silver, gold, and silken treasures to keep him content. A collection of maids and servants were there to feed and care for him and a table of knights were there to protect him. He was carefully watched over from a distance. Sadness ate a child and few cared. Few knew what to do when the little boy slammed his door and hid in the tower. The prince fell into a lonely state.

The knights protecting him looked at him as a stranger – an isolated boy, a spare – even if he strived to learn to study weaponry. He tried to join them on their practice range once; he was turned away.

“Your Highness!” there was a cry from a nanny. “You have no need to learn such a skill.”

No, he didn’t he sulked. He didn’t need to learn anything apparently. After all, the second prince had no need to learn of knightly duties, nor fighting, nor war, nor kingly duties. His brother had learned though; at the old castle, Seokjin beamed and preened about his lessons with swordmastery. But Namjoon didn’t need to know it. Because, in the end, Namjoon wasn’t the prince headed to the crown.

The Second.

He was the second.

What did that even mean? If he wasn’t a King, if he wasn’t a Knight, if he wasn’t seen as a worthy Prince either… what was he?

Namjoon learned – like most things in his life – he would have to adapt. He would watch things from afar, learning from high up in his windowed tower. Mimicking the motions the knights made, the strikes of the blade against his bedpost (instead of a training dummy) left deep grooves into the fine wood.

The servants gossiped about his anger issues and how he destroyed things. A monster of a prince.

Namjoon’s focus grew on things he could do without the roadblocks put up by the servants and the royal family. He couldn’t study metalsmith with the knights. But he could study wordsmiths.

Besides his tall tower room, he was granted access to the library. He threw himself into his studies – he learned charts for sailing, war strategy, language, public speaking, trade, and folklore. He’d learn to be king – even if he wouldn’t be one.

When a nanny asked what he was reading, he’d learn to lie a white lie. Just a fantasy book.

After all, wasn’t all of this a fantasy? What was a Prince to do when he wasn’t a Prince?

At first, he envied his brother. He used to think he hated him. Hated him for everything Namjoon couldn’t be. Namjoon fueled himself on that hate in the early years of his isolation – studying with spite on his tongue. Writing curses towards his brother in the sidelines of books. He knew his brother had all the highest advisors and scholars telling him this… and he knew Seokjin didn’t listen. Seokjin wasn’t a good student, in a traditional sense. He liked stories, and most of the history and war tactics the youngest Prince read about was not a good story.

Until he received a letter from his brother.

I don’t know where to turn. I’ve missed you, brother. I feel so lost. I don’t think I’m meant for this. I don’t think I’m meant to be King.

The words were scratched out over and over, as if even writing what was beneath was forbidden.

Father expects so much – expects me to talk with a booming voice. He wants me to be like our ancestors.

Namjoon knew what Seokjin was referring to – even if it had been years since he’d been by his older brother’s side or heard the tales of their family line. Everyone knew the stories of the dragon bloods. How they were creatures that could shapeshift into reptilian beasts that flew. Powerful myths. How they took the throne with ease and led with wisdom beyond this realm. How their royal bloodline supposedly came from them.

It was a story, a folklore. But it was still used to rally the people. The kingdom was strong, strong like a dragon.

Seokjin wrote to Namjoon for advice. And though he thought he despised the crown prince, he replied. At first because Namjoon’s nanny urged him to – “it’d be rude to not reply to the future King, my prince” – but soon he wrote to ease his brother’s worries. He was an aid in running the kingdom even at his young age.

He liked that.

He’d write advice for his brother, sending flocks of pigeons with letters. Books were his escape. And soon, so were you.

He was sixteen when he found you when he was looking for a novel in the library. It was early in the morning; the dew had barely settled on the grasslands. Namjoon stumbled down the stone steps into the grand library, sleepy eyed and still in his fine-tailored pajamas. It took him far too long to notice you. It was only when you let out the smallest giggle. His head snapped to the sound, and he saw you for the first time. A servant’s daughter dressed in worn dark browns and creams; an apron sat dirtied around your waist; it was clear you weren’t where you were supposed to be. Engrossed in a book, your eyes taking in gulps of words even if you stumbled over the larger ones – a finger resting over the word that seemed too complicated to pronounce let alone understand.

And instead of anger, instead of a tantrum, perhaps due to his isolation, he felt… kinship.

You liked to read like he did. You were like him. Alone in the place. He hadn’t seen someone his age before this, he was so used to the older figures rushing around. But you… you were like him. Even if you were dressed poorly.

“Excuse me?” His voice was now a rumbling deep thing with the brink of teenagerhood, deeper even more when dusted with the throes of sleep.

It startled you, slamming the book shut with a puff of dust from the old thing. Your gaze settled on the fine clothes – finer than you had ever seen – and a fear clung to your bones.

The worst-case scenarios tumbled through your head. You would be sent away. You’d be beheaded. Your family would suffer. Your eyes would be plucked out. He was an angry boy – you had heard the rumors and here you were trespassing. In the royal library. His royal library.

“My prince,” you stumbled to your feet, bowing your head. “I’m sorry – please forgive me.”

No, no, no he didn’t want this. He didn’t want fear or babbling or… to lose a possible friend. He had never seen someone in the library. It was his private library, too grand for a single soul to occupy. It wouldn’t hurt… to share. It felt like nails down a chalkboard, like someone was taking his to from him. Why was that so hard to concede to that? Sharing.

Still, he bit down on his tongue.

“No, please. It’s okay,” he tried to soothe.

His hands outstretched to touch your shoulder as if to urge you out of your bow. You shuddered under his touch as if he’d strike you. “It’s okay. Really.”

His voice, deep and warm, lacked the fire of anger. It was more like a hearth, bumbling with embers.

“What… what are you reading?”

“What… what am I reading?” you repeated, incredulous. Baffled.

He offered a small smile, cheeks red as he nodded slowly. He was so unused to this. So used to the nannies who were frightened of him or the tired old maids who didn’t want to put in the effort to care for him truly.

He tried to make himself look smaller, that’d help right? You were so much smaller than him already he noticed. He nodded again.

“It’s… it’s a fairytale, you probably wouldn’t like it,” she insisted.

“I like reading,” he said simply. “Tell me about it? Please.”

You licked your lips, eying him up and down before nodding softly. It wasn’t a beheading. It wasn’t a violent tantrum. In fact, he looked kind of sweet, bashful, as his sleepy face broke into a grin and he settled down next to the spot you were previously sitting.

Day by day, you’d meet in the early morning light of the majestic library. In that time, he’d hear what you were reading; even insisting on you reading the words aloud. He’d correct you where he could. Never did his corrections make you feel ashamed or stupid. He was surprisingly gentle with his words you noticed.

Your mornings – when you were meant to be preparing his breakfast - were spent reading beside the young prince. Eventually, when you got scolded so much, it made you cry and you were trembling in your shoes to miss a shift – he changed your schedule. While in the early morn you’d share your books, by mid-morning, he shared with you the books he loved – philosophy, folklore, science - while you rushed to make his breakfast in the grand kitchen. He’d lean against the cutting counter and stare as you whisked eggs and kneaded dough.  

It was sometimes difficult to be around him. The Prince was a handsome man. His hair was long for his age, curling up at the nape of his neck. You wondered if he cut it himself. Most servants were warned of his unruly temper and childish tantrums; they avoided him the best they could and it was easy with how much he stayed in his tower. He was violent… That was why he was sent away – at least, the rumors spoke of that.

The prince you grew to know wasn’t an angry person. No, he smiled with a softness, his cheeks squishing to reveal dimples. He listened as you spoke about things in your life– from the novels you had read and loved to the flowers you liked in the gardens to the work you loathed to do. (He had laughed when you mentioned you disliked when he requested bacon for the splatters of oil always burned your arms; he promised he’d request bacon less for your sake. He hadn’t requested it since.)

Namjoon enjoyed your company. You were his friend. His only friend.

He hadn’t had a friend before.

He cared for you, watched, and aided you when he could. He didn’t want you to suffer or feel alone. You were the only other teenager so far outside the kingdom’s town. It must’ve been lonely. He couldn’t imagine you hurting or else his heart felt like it’d burn up.

Even as he felt stirrings of things within him as the years went by, he focused on what you needed. A love that was selfless wasn’t second-nature to him. It was an effort. He didn’t want to be greedy and lose you. He grew fond of you beside him. His fingers intertwined with yours as you walked through the gardens, shyly at first, before it happened every time afterwards. Your hand in his was cool to the touch; he hoped you weren’t cold. He gifted you a pretty cloak a few weeks later, one that was the same shade as your favorite flower.

You leaned towards him when you read together. Sometimes your cheek was so close he could feel their warm. His lips would tingle and he couldn’t read the manuscript in his hands. All he could focus on was how pretty your skin was… how your cheeks were a reddish pink and your lips… oh your lips were so tantalizingly close for him to press a kiss to them. He swallowed down this love, keeping you close to him but guarded from himself.

Perhaps it was anxiety – the consequence of being friendless for so long. He was bashful, fearful. Him – fearful it made him want to shake his head at his foolishness. He ached to wrap you into his embrace, to shower you in kisses, to allow you to lay in his bed. But he settled for now, the softness of your friendship was a comfort. Your hand against his was still enough to get his heart racing. His love festered in his chest with the inability to grow further – if only he could speak of his fondness.

He claimed he’d try again tomorrow – and the next day – and the next.

However, as his love grew into a mess of tangled vines, an illness began to fester and choke him as well.

It had occurred when he turned twenty. At the stroke of midnight, you had knocked onto his bedroom door.

“Joonie!” Your voice chimed as he opened the door. Dressed in his pajamas, it should be improper but you had seen him in them many times before – you met him in them. His face lit up at the sight of the cake – his birthday cake. It was decorated with edible flowers from the garden and a gentle blue frosting.

“Happy Birthday!”

“Y/N,” he exclaimed. “This is beautiful – all for me?”

You giggled and he smiled wide enough his dimples peeked at you.

“Yes, your Highness,” you chuckled. “Don’t eat it all or you’ll get a stomach ache.”

“I won’t… aren’t you tired?” he asked watching you blink slow and steady like a cat.

“A bit; I wish I could stay awake longer but I wanted to be the first person to see you and wish you a happy birthday.” You claimed.

He wanted to press kisses all over your face; he wish you knew that you were sweeter than this cake. That you’d be the only one to wish him a true happy birthday. Instead, he simply place the cake aside on a desk and hugged you close.

“Thank you. I love it.” You.

You hummed happily. “I’m happy. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Not too early,” he promised. “I’ll take breakfast later, okay? Prince’s orders. Sleep in a bit.”

It was sweet. Even on his birthday he was treating you. You smiled up at him, squeezing his hand fondly.

“As you command it, oh mighty prince. But other than that, we will spend the whole day together.”

That sounded like a dream. With the door shutting behind you, he felt a giddy rush course through him. His skin warmed and his stomach filled with butterflies. Looking over at the cake, he took his finger and swiped at the frosting, tasting it. But the mere taste of the sugar felt like curdled milk in his stomach. Namjoon frowned. That didn’t make sense. Your treats were always so good. He loved this cake recipe in particular – you made it every birthday since you became friends.

Perhaps it was his excitement. His face already felt clammy. His hand shaky. Sleep claimed him quick, his cake left untouched.

He awoke in the morning to a fever, his skin burning hot.

“Stay away, Y/N,” he had called out when you insisted on helping him. A cool rag to his forehead, sweat trickled down his temple.

“You’re burning up, Joonie” you had murmured, swiping his hair aside. Once, you’d shake in your boots imagining touching the prince like this, but after your friendship grew through the years. You had stopped referring to him as your prince and simply as Namjoon, and later even Joonie – something he had smiled warmly at.

“Don’t want you to get sick,” he continued as you lifted a goblet of water to his lips.

“Shh.” You hushed as you let him sip the fresh water. It didn’t ease the fire in his veins. “You’re the one sick on your birthday.”

Namjoon’s fever didn’t break for days. It felt like his muscles were combusting, aching, and burning. No doctor had the answer. The royal family even came to visit – fearing the worse for the bedridden prince.

“Namjoonie, you better get well.” It was a light threat from Seokjin as he sat on the bedside of his younger brother. It wasn’t much of a threat when Seokjin sniffled and raised a handkerchief to his eyes.  “What would I do without your aid if you left? I’d be waiting for your letters daily.”

You worked on with a watchful eye. Wringing cool rose-water from a rag to place on Namjoon’s forehead as the crown prince held onto his brother’s hand. You couldn’t decide if the first-born prince was being genuine. You noticed other things though. The way the plump lips of Seokjin were bitten raw. The trembling broad shoulders. There was a quiet to Seokjin, a timidness even if he was built and grown as a Prince; he wasn’t built to be a King. Even a servant girl could see that.

It was as interesting as it was fearful.

There was a night when he refused to let you into his bed chamber. The large clanking of a goblet hitting the tiled floors echoed, and you had rushed to the door with his name on your tongue.

“Don’t enter,” his voice was pained.

“Namjoon, what’s wrong?” you asked.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” he sounded pained, his voice coming through gritted teeth.

Clanking and shattering objects came from within the room. You did not cease your calling. Servants whispered and gossiped about the prince having a temper tantrum in his weakened state. Some things never change.

The next morning, Namjoon’s fever broke finally. And you nearly cried of relief.

“You scared me so much,” you scolded the prince as you clung to his hand. His arms wrapped around you tight, pulling you closer and closer until you were in the bed with him. Surprised by not frightened, you remained in his arms. They trembled with a weakness, from the sickness you assumed, but they didn’t let you shift in his embrace. He held you close and breathed you in. You smelled of home. Of everything he cared for. The smell of food cooking on a hearth, of indigo flowers planted in the garden, of the vanilla hidden in old books. He trembled under your hug, but he pressed his lips to your hair, something you don’t miss. Fondness bloom in your chest like a flower.

“What happened yesterday?” you murmured, curiously.

You knew it wasn’t a temper tantrum. He didn’t do that. It wasn’t Namjoon.

He breathed out shakily. He felt… different. His skin felt tight to his bones; his muscles remained tense like a suit of armor forged into his own flesh – but he didn’t feel unwell. The fire that had burned through him had settled into a steady flow of embers through his veins. A comforting warmth, a harness-able power.

“I-I don’t know,” he lied as he held you closer.

After the illness, Namjoon held himself differently. He was taller, broader. He almost reminded you of Seokjin’s naturally wide shoulders – except Namjoon’s frame was different. More muscular, beefier.

He could lift you now, carrying you to your quarters ( which had moved to the castle, per his request ) when you fell asleep reading beside the prince. He was eating more – but maybe you simply forgot his appetite after suffering under the illness for so long. He’s moved into training again – now outside the tower he called his living quarters – something you knew he had liked to do after years of friendship.

He was different but the same. He almost seemed more at peace as he greeted you in the kitchens with a friendly kiss to your cheek.

He was bolder. Happier.

Different but good.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he wrapped his arms around you.

It was a welcome change; Namjoon had begun to hug you closer, wrap his arms around you more and more now. Your hand moved to rest against his intertwined arms.

“Good morning, Joon.” His chin rested on your shoulder, watching as you made his plate (and yours at his request – he loved eating breakfast with you.)

“You’re in a good mood,” you commented.

“I received a letter from my brother.” he didn’t speak of Seokjin with ill-will; he had spoken of the king with a tone of discontent – detested affection - before.

“He wants me to be his Advisor.” He revealed. He sounded excited, happy. “Officially.” He turned to rest his cheek fully on your shoulder, rubbing his cheek against your servant garb. “Father is preparing to shift things around, giving Seokjin more power in decision-making.”

Which Namjoon knew Seokjin hated.

“You have worked hard. You’ll finally be able to show off that big brain of yours in front of the court,” you added as you continued to slice the apple for your individual porridges.

“Finally,” he sighed against you. Things were looking up.

He dragged his cheek against your shoulder once more before hugging you close. As he pulled away, his fingers swiped an apple slice from the tray.

“Your Highness,” you scolded, making him chuckle out as he pressed another fond kiss to your cheek.

It left tingling warmth in its wake.

You couldn’t seem to rest despite yawns tumbling from your lips. Restlessness clung to your bones, making you stand from your bed. Your gaze peered out the high window to look into the night sky.  The tower room that Namjoon insisted on you having as you tended to him while he was ill was grand. It was larger than your homestead, draped in finery that you had been fearful to use. There was even a balcony to look out into the night sky – which you used now. Namjoon hadn’t asked for anything in return, simply saying he adored your company. He wanted you here. He had been kind to you; sweeter than ever.

The very thought of the prince made your heart race. Letting out a girlish giggle, your eyes continued to stargaze. Arms draping over the baluster, you pressed your cheek to the cool stonework. There were many stars you could name; Namjoon particularly enjoyed astronomy. You were naming each one you could.

There was the Chamaeleon, Corona Borealis, Lepus, Lupus, and the Dragon.  Your eyes drooped sleepily when something caught your gaze. There was flicker against the midnight skies like a shadow dancing across the stars. The shape made you shudder, your eyes widening like saucers.

It looked like a dragon flying high in the sky.

You blink, blink, blinked.

It was gone. No, you know what you saw. You saw the impossible.

“What are you reading, Y/N?” Namjoon asked after catching you in the halls of the palace, curled in an alcove he knew you favored.

“Folklore,” you commented.

He noted your sleepy eyes; lavender painted your under-eye area. His brows pursed – even if you continued reading with interest.

“What’s caught your attention, sweet one?” he chuckled softly before his fingers tucked stray hairs away from your face. Fingers grazed your skin fondly. You looked up at the gentility. He lips pursed into a frown. “You look like you’ve been up all night; were you reading by candlelight again?”

Your face didn’t lighten up like he loved. It made his stomach churn a bit. His brows pursed. He was far too easy to read like your favorite book.

You tried to comfort him, shaking your head. Your cheek pressed into his large, hot hand reassuringly.

“No, no; I just – Namjoon –, “ you started a sentence, pausing in your words.

Licking your lips, your tired mind caught up to your train of thought and you had to pause.

Everyone knew the tale of the dragon bloods. Creatures who could transform at will – fire breathed into their souls, powerful and greedy but wise. They took over the throne from an evil ruler; then they ruled with wisdom for decades. It was a tall-tale you were told since childhood. But… it was just a story. How could you have seen one? And why did it strike such fear in your heart for Namjoon and the royal family? Was it an omen? Was he in danger?

Your breathing shuddered.

You couldn’t tell him. He’d find you crazy.

Your gaze shifted from his kind umber eyes to the book beneath her fingertips.

“I’ve just been engrossed in this story,” you said quietly.

It wasn’t quite a lie.

He frowned, but brushed a thumb over your cheek soft. He didn’t like you keep things from him. But he’d let you for now.

“Seokjin-hyung truly doesn’t know how to rule; what did he do during all those lessons? He knows nothing!” Namjoon lamented, flopping down beside you in the grassy riverside. It was a heavy thud of his body against the vegetation.  

“Be careful,” you commented at his violent action yet he didn’t even grunt from the action.

“I would’ve loved lessons on trade routes,” he sighed out, frustratedly. His hands trailed over the wild indigo tousling in the wind.  He watched the petals pass through his fingers before huffing again.

“I know, Joonie, but you learned regardless. That’s resilience.”

He hummed out an agreement. His gaze shifted from the weeds beside his head to focus on you. You were reading again. A sight he loved. He loved when you were focused, immersed in something more. It was like he could see your brain working, see the imagination flickering behind your beautiful eyes.

The leather-covered book bore the same “History of Fae & Other Creatures” title. You’ve been reading it for more than a week now. It made his curiosity spike.

“What are you so intrigued about, sweetheart?” He leaned up on his forearms, gazing up at you with flower petals and leaves clinging to his long hair.

You let out a soft chuckle at the sight, reaching out to pluck the remnants away. Why were you nervous to tell him? Would he laugh at you? He hadn’t before. You knew your fears were foolish – a Dragon wasn’t coming to destroy his family line – and him. That was… not set in reality. Its been something you’ve ruminated on night after night as you laid in your cushy bed. You could’ve seen something totally real that night – a strange bird or a kite or a very solid looking cloud that moved really fast. Right?

Fiddling with the corner of the worn page, you hemmed and hawed. Namjoon waited patiently. Smiling up at you. He’s never been cruel or mean. Surely, he’d just tell you saw nothing. That it was the sleepiness. Reassure you. He fiddled with the fabric of your dress – a new one he had made for you of indigo blue.

“I just – I’ve been thinking of dragons recently,” you finally said, turning the page.

Namjoon paused, his smile freezing. His dimples weren’t showing as the smile faded into a confused frown.

“Dragons?” he asked again. Namjoon’s blood felt hot.

“I—you’ll think I’m silly,” you said, shaking your head – your gaze hadn’t left the page. “I thought I saw one the other night. I was tired though. Maybe I just was – I don’t know, day-dreaming.”

“Maybe,” Namjoon supplied.

He felt hot.

He’d tell them soon. He promised.

Namjoon’s face was grim as he sat in the rocky carriage. Stuck in the royal attire he often disregard around the palace, his limbs felt tight and itchy; his fine silver crown atop perfectly styled locks. His hair had been cut, by your hand at the insistence of the maids and caretakers. He was a Prince not some long-haired pirate! He felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. He was stuck in a carriage far away from you and only taking him further and further away by the second. It left him worrying. A pit growing in his stomach as the carriage shuttered against the rocky path.

Even if he hadn’t spoken his love to you, you hadn’t rejected his affections. His soft kisses to your cheek, his embraces where his hands remained respectfully at your waist, or his affectionate nicknames. It was more than friendship, surely you knew that. You weren’t dumb. You were the smartest woman he’d met. It was one of the many things he loved about you.

He felt anxiety creep up at the thought of the castle unprotected by him. You were unprotected. It made the fire splutter and splatter like lava within his soul.

But he had a duty – not to his father, but Seokjin.

It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.

The castle was a day’s journey, one that he handled as gracefully as one could. Soon enough, he was back in his childhood home – yet it felt unlike the true home he left behind. Bereft figures, dull colors of dark blacks decorated the halls. Sobs filled the streets.

After all, the King was dead.

Seokjin was going to be crowned – and soon.

It was the night after the funeral. Seokjin had barged his way into Namjoon’s quarters – a forgotten childhood bedroom. Everything had been left where Namjoon had place it. His dragon stuffed animal sat on the window’s ledge, looking out.

At least it has been, before Seokjin had picked it up and fiddled with it. Squeezing it, tossing it between his large palms, hugging it.

“I can’t do this, Joonie,” Seokjin hyperventilated.

“What are you talking about, hyung?” Namjoon tried to understand.

“The crown,” he blurted out. “The ceremonies. The ruling. The laws. The court. I’m not—I can’t. I’m not – built for this.”

Seokjin was trembling; his fingers digging into the stuffed animal harshly. His lips were bitten red, bleeding.

“You’ve grown up learning for this,” Namjoon countered, disbelievingly. “Its your-“

“I don’t care!” Seokjin cried out. “I—I never wanted the crown. I never—I can’t handle the pressures; Father, before he passed, he knew – he knew. He said if the crown failed in my hands that I’d go to hell. That I’d be cursed to be outcasted. History rewritten. He called me weak – he called me-“ Seokjin was sobbing. Namjoon had never seen his brother cry before.

“I don’t know what to do. You do.”

You know how to rule.

“Help me, Joonie. Please. Please I revoke my crown. I revoke it. I revoke it to you.”

There was a jostling outside your balcony, waking you with a start.  A grand wind pounded on the glass panels ferociously, rattling and creaking them violently. Your eyes flashed open and you looked about bewildered.

There had been no wind when you fell asleep. Especially not so violent.

“What is going on?” Your fear made you jump, holding the covers to your form as if that could protect you.

You saw no clouds nor tells of rain or wind last night. But now, it was almost like your window frame was trembling from the force outside.

Standing to look, what you saw nearly made you faint. There, outside your window – perched awkwardly on your stone balcony’s balusters – was a dragon. Larger than you by an incredible amount. Its form wasn’t even at its grandest; you could see its body was curling inwards; its large clawed paws were shifting underneath it as it balanced, almost similar to a cat. Its wings were outstretched wide, the width of them taking up the length of many men. It didn’t look threatening; there was no fire or brimstone. Instead, it almost looked clumsy. It was far too large for the foundation beneath itself. The stonework gave a horrible groan, loud and bellowing from the creature’s weight.  

A scream was on your lips, aching to tear out of your throat – but before you could, you saw before your very eyes the dragon begin to tremble and shrink until… there was no dragon there anymore. No, it was just Namjoon.

Namjoon was on your balcony.

Rippling muscles shuddering as he stumbled off of the stone baluster and towards you a wild look in his eyes.

“Y/N,” you could hear him even with your balcony window shut – however, not for long, as you promptly fainted.

He was a dragon.

“Darling,” you could hear a soft croon. “Oh, my sweet girl.”

Your head ached, but you could still recognize that voice anywhere. It was the same voice that had read you countless novels in the field of flowers by the gardens.

“Joon?” you queried in your drowsiness.

Blinking your eyes, you look up to see him, clad in his royal attire – the very attire he had left in – sitting beside you in your quarters.

“I’m so sorry,” he pleaded, rushing to press kisses to your knuckles. His crowned head bowing towards you in regret.

He hadn’t thought about how it could startle you – all he could think was he had to return home. Had to discuss things with you – his only friend, his love, his confidant.

“I—I, did—I had the strangest dream,” you murmur out. “You were a—” Your gaze traveled to the window, now open to where you had seen the creature perched in your dreams. Only to see the shattered stonework. The broken balusters laid messily in front of the gargoyles.

“A dragon,” Namjoon supplied, quietly. Almost bashfully like that morning you met.

Your eyes drifted back to him. His umber eyes were fiery, even if they were glancing away almost boyishly shy.

“What?” you asked quiet. “Namjoon, what?”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing a bit. His head tilted downwards. All the fire of a dragon he had – but its courage he still lacked, he scolded himself.

He lacked when it came to you; selfishly afraid and yearning to protect and shield you away from him.

“I’m a dragon blood. I-I learned about it a few months ago,” he said. “After my illness, I had these abilities. These powers…”

You stared at him; partial awe, partial fear, partial confusion, and partial betrayal painted your features.

Before you slapped at his shoulder, angrily.

“You—” You nearly curse at him, anger peaking.

His hands went to capture yours before you could slap at him again. Firm but not painful, his grasp was one of desperation as his brows crinkled in despair.

“I know; I know. I didn’t tell you. How would you have reacted?” he rambled on. “You would’ve thought me mad; you would’ve left me alone. You would’ve never spoken to me.”

His fear was laid out in a rush– you leaving him.

“I couldn’t bear that.” he whispered ardently.

“So, you lied!” you bitterly exclaimed. Your hands – now curled into childish fists – couldn’t shift in his grasp. He was strong.

“You never asked!” Namjoon countered smiling awkwardly. Your glare shut him up, his mouth opening and closing as his eyes shut. “That doesn’t matter I know. You can be angry later, please. I have news from the kingdom. I need you!”

A Dragon never needed anyone. But he needed her. He always would.

“Seokjin is going to revoke the crown – and I’ll be crowned king.” He said out in a flurry.

Once again, as if a bomb was dropped on you, your mouth dropped open.

“He’s revoking the crown?”

Namjoon nodded, almost excitedly. You could see flames dance in his eyes – had that always happened?

“This is horrible!” you murmured out, fear written in your face.

Nightmares of disasters flickered through your mind. Namjoon and Seokjin being killed in an uprising. Namjoon being prevented taking the throne. Seokjin lying to cause Namjoon’s death. So many worst-case scenarios flickered through your mind. Your mind was an expert at plotting the worse. Even if the dragon you saw was him – it could be a warning. He could be a warning of worse things to come.

“Darling?” Namjoon asked, his voice gentle as he saw your outburst – your fear and disapproval were the opposite of what he predicted.

“Seokjin doesn’t want the crown,” Namjoon reassured, hands leaving your wrists to cup your face. Tilting it his way to watch your mind rush faster and faster. He licked his lips as he saw your mouth shuddered.

“If you do this, Namjoon, the kingdom will be in uproar; they will fight against a shift in power – even if it’s as peaceful as your brother granting you the throne.” You countered. “It’s signing a war declaration.”

He let out a huff of a growl, smoke tumbling from his nose. His impatience bubbled up. He didn’t like being told that he couldn’t do something; he never had.

The smoke shocked you, but somehow not enough to scare you. It was just… new.

“I don’t want a war,” you said looking at him with a look he hadn’t seen before. Desperation and yearning. Longing. It was complex and somber and… soulful. He felt like he saw your soul for a moment. And it was scared for him. You didn’t want him harmed or put into harm’s way in any way. “And I don’t want you fighting in it.”

Want. Want. Want.

Namjoon wanted too. He wanted so much over the years. He had wanted his family’s love. He didn’t receive it. He wanted to learn. He was given road block after road block. He wanted you, all of you. And he forbade himself.

He wanted the throne. He wanted what he deserved. He wanted respect. Your breath left in a soft huff of a sigh. You pushed yourself up to sit higher on your bed, closer in his embrace, his hands sliding to your jaw to accommodate.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Joonie.”

His fiery gaze eased a bit at your words. You were precious. Kind-hearted, gentle. His only true friend. His. And as a dragon blood, he was greedy. You were a treasure he didn’t know he hoarded. Until now.

“I don’t fear anything anymore. At least nothing like that.” he commented softly. “Not after the change.” He shifted from the floor to your bed, his tall form towered over you, but you didn’t feel discomfort as he embraced you. His thumb caressed over the soft supple skin of your cheeks, lovingly. “Why should a monster fear anything he can devour?”

You think if someone else had said those words a shiver would go down your spine. But it was Kim Namjoon. The very Namjoon who you’ve known for so many years. Namjoon – the prince who didn’t tattle on you – a servant girl – when you were avoiding work. Namjoon – who learned botany because you said you loved the wild indigos you found on the path between the castle and your homestead. Namjoon – who would sit beside you and point at the words you couldn’t decipher from old folklore scripts and ramble on and on about the history of them. Namjoon – the man who would grab your hand and sneak down to the river’s shores to skip stones with you. Namjoon - who had pressed soft kisses to your forehead when you fell asleep beside him in the grand library. Namjoon – who gently took your hand in between his as he confessed how much you meant to him beside the hearth of the fireplace.

Namjoon – the son of the Dragon, the inheritor of the flame – the rightful heir of the kingdom as a dragon blood.

It felt like two separate people – but even now, when his hand slid to your jaw – you could see both sides of him. The powerful being and the gentle giant. He would fight to protect you. And you knew deep down you would fight to protect him.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured lowly. “Of me, of a war.” He clarified. “What I am now – what awoke within me - is bulletproof, darling; I will not fail us. I will protect you and my kingdom.” And with that, he leant down, cupping your cheeks, and kissed your lips for the first time.  

You swore you could taste fire-smoke and ash on his lips.

[albatmobile]

a conundrum of redheaded proportions pt. 2

the second and final part of this ask!

𓅪 Rated: E | 6.5k includes: misunderstandings, confessions, selectively mute!reader, blow jobs, vaginal sex, deep throating, praise kink, spitroasting, begging, lots of smut y'all ur welcome, voyeurism, jealousy, Justice league AU

𓅪 previous hookup fem!reader x jason todd, eventual fem!reader x roy harper, eventual fem!reader x jason todd x roy harper

my Hero OC! Cardinal comes from this series: tumblr [1] [2] || ao3

It seems like fate that not even three days later Batman’s listing you off with Jason and him to lead a low-stakes mission with some of the younger, noob League members.

“Seems like we keep bumping into each other,” Roy teases you lightly before your squad’s debrief. 

You quirk your head questioningly and make to apologize as if you’ve actually bumped into him. 

“No, I just meant the other night,” he trails off unsurely, wondering if it’s too taboo to bring up you seeing him naked and hard in the hallway.

You don’t say anything, obviously, but you hardly even move. 

Shit, he fucked up. Again.

“Er,” Roy clears his throat subconsciously, “anyway, sounds like it should be a pretty easy in-and-out type of deal, right?”

You nod bashfully and give a lame thumbs up. 

Roy watches Jason sign something to you with a cheeky tinge to his movements and you respond with a flurry of sharp motions. None of it being anything Roy comes remotely close to understanding. 

Roy clears his throat and both of you stop with your hands mid-sign, faces nearly touching through the armor of your masks.

It’s Roy’s turn to quirk his head.

“She said she,” Jason starts out in an obvious lie that has you instantly flicking him off. “I didn’t even say anything yet, beautiful.” 

Put aside that Jason and you had just completely left Roy out of the conversation, now Jason’s giving you nicknames?

Fuck this.

“Uh,” Roy barely contains the urge to punch Jason in the stomach, knowing it’d only be in vain with Jason’s insanely padded bulletproof vest.

You huff in aggravation, looking from Jason to Roy.

“Fine, I won’t say anything.”

Okay, now Roy really feels like punching Jason. He’s supposed to be helping Roy hook up with you, not trying to steal you away for himself. 

Roy’s feeling the second-hand heat from the glare you’re undoubtedly shooting Jason’s way. He can’t help but feel like you’re talking about him and he really wants to know why Jason would be refusing to tell him.

You smack at his arm and clearly sign something before motioning your head toward Roy. 

“What’d she say?”

You shake your head in your hand. 

Jason pats Roy on the back. “First off, just because someone’s translating doesn’t mean you talk to her through me, dumbass,” Jason says as he motions to you. Roy gulps as he follows the movement. “Second of all, she said she doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

Consider it gotten.

“Yeah, no,” Roy lies, sheepishly tugging his trucker hat lower. “No wrong idea from me, that’s for sure. Nada, baby.” God, can he shut the fuck up? “Sorry,” he says finally.

You shake your head hesitantly and look down at your hands like you’re unsure of something. When your head pops back up, you look to Jason before reaching over and squeezing Roy’s hand like a reassurance that you aren’t mad. 

“Shit babe, you should already know you can squeeze more than that,” Roy spews. He slaps a freckled hand over his mouth as soon as his word vomit catches up to him, but by then, it’s too late.

If you weren’t mad before, you definitely seem upset now.

It’s as if his words electrocute you back to reality, jolting the realization that you’d actually gone ahead with the action.

“Jesus,” Jason shakes his head like he can’t believe either of you, “it’s like watching a goddamned train wreck in slow motion.”

Roy, personally, can’t believe he keeps fucking up so tremendously with you.

It comes as a relief to all three of you when your ride shows up and the mission begins, preventing any further awkward mishaps.

𓅪𓅪𓅪

Jason takes control of the ship, sitting in the pilot’s seat before discreetly signing something to you. 

Roy hears you ‘tch’ before you sign something that Jason doesn’t need to translate for him. Without another word, well, sign, you saunter out of the cockpit, throwing one last look over your shoulder at Roy before walking to the back of the vessel.

It’s not fair.

It’s really not when your waist goes in so perfectly and your ass flares out unmistakably. Each sway comes with the cruel reminder he can’t touch it. He can’t touch you.

“God, she fucking hates me,” Roy sighs, slumping over in the jump seat. “God, I keep fucking up. I keep acting like a fucking pervert in front of her. It’s not fucking like me. I don’t know what’s going on,” he groans in frustration. “It’s like I’ve got zero fucking game around her and it’s really starting to piss me off. I can pick up any girl, but her? She’s seriously fucking me up, like, in the head and stuff, dude,” Roy cements his statement by jamming his index finger against his skull psychotically.

Jason clicks on the autopilot and gets up to shut the cockpit door, looking around to make sure no one’s overhearing them as he does so. When he sits back down, he removes Roy’s finger, which still remains against his forehead.

“You look and sound like you’re on fucking crack again, Roy.”

“It was heroin, but thanks. Always a class act to joke about addiction,” he mutters.

Jason can barely contain his eye roll. “Is it so hard to just, I don’t know,” Jason opens his arms dramatically like it should be the most obvious thing in the world to him, “be yourself? Don’t you think maybe, at the very least, that being yourself is a bit better than this weird, lame shit you’re pulling now?” 

Roy sits there, definitely not pouting, as he takes in his best friend’s words.

Jason knows the real him and still lets him hit, so maybe…

“You’re right,” Roy sighs. He slumps back in his seat, exhaling dramatically enough for Jason to roll his eyes again. “If anyone’s gonna help me understand her, it’s you.” As much as he hates to admit it, Jason’s the only one who can offer him any sort of sage advice right now. “What should I do?” he asks.

Roy’s expectant puppy-dog-look has Jason milliseconds away from clicking the eject button and leaving Roy to figure shit out on his own. While he does eye the button, his hands remain on his knees as he takes in his friend’s desperate demeanor.

“Consider this a mitzvah,” Jason says monotonously, finally deciding to divulge Roy. “I can tell you straight up that if all you want to do is fuck her, you’re going to keep fucking up because she’s not like that.”

Well, Roy definitely hadn’t been expecting that.

“All the two of you did is fuck,” Roy points out saltily. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you ditched me to go get your dick sucked.”

“Roy,” Jason rubs at the tension steadily forming between his brows, “what did we just talk about?”

Roy puts up his hands in surrender easily. “I swear, it’s not my fault. It’s like my filter’s completely gone,” he complains.

“You’ve never had one to begin with,” Jason states plainly. 

“Fine,” Roy gives in, motioning for Jason to continue. 

“So, it wasn’t just a one-time thing like I told you. It’s a bit more complicated,” Jason says, leaving Roy’s eyes to bulge. “We’d been talking ever since her split with Kate, but I didn’t want to take advantage of her. She told me she rushed into things with Kate, so she wanted to take things slow.” Jason shrugs. “You know, not like jumping into something right away. Anyway, I understood, so, in the end, I just got to know her.”

Roy shoots a knowing brow but doesn’t take the bait this time. “You seem to be forgetting I’ve also known her for years.”

“Knowing someone and knowing of someone are two different things. You and I both know that, Roy,” Jason points out. “When the time finally came that she was ready, probably like a year later, that’s the day I ditched you.”

“What happened after that?” Roy asks curiously.

“It was a one-time thing in the sense that it was only one day,” Jason says. His attention shifts to the closed cockpit door as if it might somehow magically open. “After that, I never pushed and she never reached out like that again. We both got consumed in missions. When we’d finally get around to catching up, she’d act all shy again with me.”

Jason almost sounds embarrassed about the whole ordeal. He clears his throat, moving to busy himself with the controls, seemingly to signal the conversation was officially over with.

Roy can’t help but think back to how the two of you acted earlier… like you guys were close.

Fuck.

He mentally berates himself for getting in the middle of his friend’s… uh, what exactly are you to Jason? His friend with benefits? 

No. 

Love interest? 

Roy chances a peak at Jason out of the corner of his eyes, but with his Red Hood mask on, it’s impossible to get a read on the stoic man.

This can’t be Jason’s way of telling Roy to back off, right?

“Tell me to back off and I will,” Roy says.

Jason’s helmet remains facing forward. “I could say the same for you.”

Just like that, the topic gets dropped for good and Roy’s no closer to any sort of clarity.

𓅪𓅪𓅪

Just like Batman had promised, the mission was get-in, get-out. 

The swamps of Louisiana refused to be left behind as its grime sticks around long after the hostile info swap with Swamp Thing. 

By the time you’re loading the dirty mutant teens back into the ship, Jason’s already calling dibs on the shower. You make sure everyone’s buckled securely into their seats before heading to the cockpit to let Jason know it’s safe for liftoff. 

Your interrogating skills could use some work, Jason signs.

He can’t explicitly see it, but he knows your brow is quirked under your mask. You mean lighting him on fire wasn’t protocol? you sign back.

“The fuck are you two jabbering on about?” 

Roy’s voice visibly startles you and your hands still defensively in front of your chest where they’d been signing. 

“Just rehashing the mission,” Jason says. He shrugs, moving to flip a few switches on the control panel.

“You mean how she lit that oversized weed bush up like a Christmas tree?”

You snort.

He’s not usually like this. Jason looks at you before tilting his head Roy’s way. He’s trying, though, Jason signs.

You wave him off with a huff, You’re delusional.

If you’d just fucking talk to him, you’re expecting his usual response to your concern, so you’re definitely not expecting what he signs next, you’d see you’re both being delusional.

You flip him off for the second time on the mission before slipping back into your seat in the main cabin so Jason can take off.

“Women.” Is the only explanation Roy gets before the ship shoots off into the boggy, yellow sky. 

Once the ship is set to fly on autopilot, Jason makes good on his dibs. His commanding boots stomp down the cabin aisle, shaking the entire aircraft as he does before coming to a halt in front of the bathroom. 

“The Justice League requires an immediate debrief to be written once a mission's complete,” Red Hood's robotic voice warbles menacingly. “You have until we’re finished with this report to wash the mud from your acne-covered faces. Take any longer and your ass will be spending the ride back to base with shampoo in your hair.” His gaze shifts across the rows of seats to solidify his point to the scared prepubescent mutants who’ve yet to move. “Might wanna get a move on if you plan to rinse and repeat.”

His helmet snaps your way, gesturing you to join Roy and him up front.

You shouldn’t scare them like that, you berate him. It’s mean.

“Sorry,” he says, though he doesn’t sound it. “Thought I was, at the very least, being gentlemanly considering I just handed you private shower access.” 

He doesn’t bother with signing once you’re both back in the cockpit, though you seem more focused on Roy. Even when Jason removes his helmet, you hardly react. 

Truth be told, your attention is making Roy extremely nervous. 

He’s already been overthinking, well, everything, but it’s worse now. 

He keeps second-guessing every movement he makes. Every single word he says feels wrong no matter how long he languishes over the right thing to say.

Case in point:

“Private showers?” Roy wiggles in his seat, similarly to how Lian so often would in her highchair.

“Yeah,” is all Jason says, with a pointed look your way. “You’re welcome. Now let’s fill out this corporate bullshit so I can get Swamp Thing’s things out of my crevices.”

Roy snorts when you shiver distastefully at Jason’s choice of words.

To his surprise, Jason hands you a notepad and you begin furiously scribbling out your responses. 

Meanwhile, Jason busies himself with recording Roy’s and his recollections of the mission. By the time they’re done recording, you’ve blown through six pages all filled to the brim with information. For some reason, he thinks it’s completely normal to give you a thumbs up because of this and mentally smacks himself when you respond by slamming the book shut before he can see it. 

The debrief goes over smoothly, with Roy only managing to make somewhat of an ass of himself, which he considers a new personal best.

The ‘somewhat’ quickly turns to ‘a complete’ when he decides to say, “You know, for someone who doesn’t talk a lot, you sure have a lot to say.”

Jason makes a hasty ‘abort’ gesture, but it’s too late. 

Roy’s fucked up for the fucking gazillionth time with you.

You don’t even react. Instead, you gesture for your phone from the ship’s safe. Jason hands it over easily enough, though he’s obviously not exactly sure where this is going.

Roy swallows heavily, focusing his attention on the setting sun, which casts a golden sheen on the clouds that pass by. He tries to block out your loud typing, but the fingertips of your costume tap thunderously against your screen until it’s all he hears. 

He thinks you’ll ignore him the rest of the way back until you’re suddenly flipping the screen around his way.

Jason makes a face at Roy as if to say, ‘I told you she’s into you.’

After chatting back and forth, Roy notices you shifting uncomfortably. 

Jason seems to understand immediately. “Roy, show her how to turn on the showers,” Jason insists. Roy gawks at his best friend, not missing the hidden meaning. Roy’s about to protest, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you’re already up and nodding to the back of the plane. “And, for fuck’s sake,” Jason huffs under his breath to Roy, “don’t make me wait too long.”

On the shower, or…?

Roy shakes his head, placing a delicate hand on your back to guide you into the pretty clean ship bathroom, considering how many people had just used it.

Before he loses the courage, Roy strips and turns to give you a full view of his bobbing, pink-tipped cock. He watches you hesitate to remove your mask as if it’d been a secondhand reaction. Ultimately, you do pull it off, shyly biting your lip as he drinks in your godly beauty as if it’s the first time. 

You slink out of the rest of your costume at a tantalizingly slow pace as you step closer and closer to Roy.

“Think we should turn on the showers to drown this out?” 

You nod with half-lidded eyes as your hands slowly descend down his chest. 

The faucet squeaks as Roy fiddles with a good temperature, but you seem completely preoccupied with studying his cock. Your legs obscenely spread into a squat as you come face-to-face with his bobbing erection.

Roy has to restrain himself from smacking you in the face with his dick and forcing it down your fuckable throat for fear of scaring you off. 

You seem content to stroke him at a gentle pace, with your firm grip exposing and concealing his tip as his foreskin stretches around each stroke. You draw a dribble of precome and curiously flick at it with the tip of your tongue. Roy suddenly surges forward, grabbing a fist full of your hair to cushion your head as he pushes you completely out of the spray and against the shower wall. 

You release a small gasp before you’re back on his cock, this time with more fervor. Your tongue teases along his length, audibly slurping up the mess of spit you’ve left behind as you retreat.

“God, this is so embarrassing,” Roy whimpers, hips sputtering against your swollen lips. You quirk a brow at him as you pull off a move that leaves his knees shaky. “You’re so good to me, baby. There’s no way I’m gonna last, fuck.” You’ve started to deep throat him again and it’s all too much.

You’re too pretty and his one-off session with Jason did nothing to increase his rusty stamina. After a minute, he pulls out of your wet, hot mouth and spurts loads of thick come across your face and expectant tongue.

Absolutely sinful.

Once he’s breathing normally, he helps you stand up and begins babbling the moment your hand slips into his.

“I never thanked you for saving me from Enchantress of all villains, by the way,” he says when he finally comes down from the high. He’s not expecting you to respond. He just wants to get it off his chest.

You short-circuit, staring at him with an owlish gaze that leaves him mesmerized. 

Roy thinks he’ll never get used to looking into your eyes. The stunning mix of colors so unique to you, private to only him and, well, the rest of the redheads in the tower, but it’s something Roy can deal with if it means he gets to hold you close again.

Your mouth quivers and he thinks he’s said something wrong until you speak.

“I’ve had the biggest crush on you since we met,” you say. Roy’s mouth goes dry as a blush steadily creeps across your plump cheeks. He watches as you subconsciously tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “I thought you hated me, though,” you admit. Suddenly, your eyes flick down to where his dick is still twitching in the aftermath and add, “Okay, well. Yeah, I just sucked you off, but still.”

Your voice is sweet, soft and understated; everything Roy never knew he needed and more.

“Cap,” Roy says, leaving your head to tilt comically in confusion. The redhead bursts into laughter at the action. “I mean, you’re lying, babe.”

He hears a quiet gasp from you before you dramatically shake your head no, then seem to remember you’ve already revealed your voice and speak, “You intimidated me.”

Roy laughs again, “Me? Intimidate you? Oh, damn. Babe, please, you’re like the definition of intimidating. I kept thinking I was fucking up and that you’d gotten the wrong impression of me.” When he finally catches his breath, he shakes his head like he finally understands what’s been going on. “I definitely should’a had Jason hook us up earlier.” He pulls you back under the spray, murmuring with your face between his hands, “I’ve wanted you for so long, beautiful. You have no idea.” 

“I,” your ethereal voice cracks slightly from underuse. You clear your throat, “I always mistook your staring as you not liking me. Well, until the other night, then it finally clicked.”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to hearing you speak.

“You mean when I got a hard-on at the sight of you alone?”

He watches you swallow with greedy eyes.

“Yes.”

He groans at your answer, feeling his restraint slipping again with each passing moment under your spell. “You gonna keep talking to me when we fuck, or are we gonna need some hand signals?”

You bite at your lower lip, causing Roy’s dick to twitch back to life in response. “I could talk to you forever, Roy,” you respond honestly.

His hips buck helplessly into the small amount of air that lies between the two of you. 

“Say my name again.” 

It’s a command you give in to easily; over and over. 

His gruff, gravelly voice is nothing like you’d ever heard on a mission before and it’s driving you crazy. Your clit twitches on command as his hands tighten into fists. It’s as if to hold himself back from taking you right here and now.

“Roy,” you tease, closing the remaining distance. Your chest squishes against his armor, eyes flicking up at him through your long lashes as if you don’t already have him completely wrapped around your finger. “I need you to fuck me.”

“You…” he trails off in a daze, searching your eyes for any signs of hesitation, “You need me to?”

In response, your eyes slide into slits and he still finds none. Your fingers trickle over his freckled shoulders, twirling around them tantalizingly slow like a promise that this is real. 

“I can’t come on my fingers just by thinking about you anymore,” you breathe, shaking your head lightly. He watches as you bite at your lip again. You’re so fucking sexy, holy shit. “Not since I saw you that one night,” you admit. Roy’s dick twitches eagerly in anticipation of what’s to come. “It’s not enough anymore. I need you, I need the real thing, Roy,” you’re practically moaning as you breathe his name against his lips. “Please, don’t make me keep begging.”

“Oh?” Roy’s fiery eyebrow quirks upward as a dominating confidence settles over him. “I think that’s exactly what you’re going to keep doing, baby.” Another twitch as you gasp from his words alone. “I want you to beg me until you’re about to come,” your mouth parts as lust overcomes you, visibly filling your eyes, “then I want you to beg me to stick my cock back in your wet cunt because you’re such a needy slut for me, aren’t you?” You unwittingly nod, completely enraptured by his raw sexual energy. “I want you to rut against it like the fucking whore I know you are until I finally give in and fuck you. Then and only then, are you allowed to come. Got it, princess?” 

Your eyes are wide, feeling slick already leaking out onto your inner thighs. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh,” he groans, allowing his hands to trickle down from the small of your waist to the dip right above your infamous ass, “you know exactly what you’re doing to me. Don’t you, baby?” Your fingers unclasp his remaining gear, stepping back slightly as it falls to the floor before closing the distance again. He feels your heart ramming up against your ribcage as you press into his now bare chest. “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he asks. Roy watches as your wide eyes flicker between his, searching their verdant depths helplessly and chuckles darkly, “You don’t have to say anything, princess. I got you. I’ll take real good care of you, I promise.”

You seem shocked that he understood your nonverbal cue and, to be honest, so is Roy. 

His dick is aching, practically humping your thick thigh with every movement of your swollen lips keeps causing it to bob up and down. Before he can stick it in, however, there’s a wiggle and twist on the bathroom doorknob.

You both panic, looking at each other with wide eyes, when you realize that neither of you had bothered to lock the door.

Roy scrambles to hide you, fully erect cock facing the intruder, only to sag in relief when he sees that it’s just Jason.

“It’s just me,” Jason says. The raven holds his hands up in faux-surrender. He hardly seems startled by your and Roy’s naked state. If anything, he looks pleased? “Was kind of hoping Roy’s shitty stamina would mean you’d be finished by now, but I refuse to sit in my sweat any longer,” he says nonchalantly, however his eyes flick to your bare face with the hints of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Shut up,” you say with no malice behind it. You find yourself blushing and duck in the safety of the junction of Roy’s freckle-spattered neck for solace.

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up briefly at your verbal response before he schools his surprise. “Well, don’t let me interrupt.” 

Jason then begins the motions of sudsing up his body, brow quirking when he feels the continued weight of your eyes on his movements. Roy would be pissed if he weren’t busy staring, too.

Roy’s jaw nearly drops when you place your hands against the shower wall, partially under Jason’s spray, partially under the one that's already on next to it.

You arch into the wall, wiggling your hips teasingly for Roy to come closer.

Jason’s eyes flicker down out of the corner of his eyes, watching as Roy watches him. Whether for support or permission, Jason doesn’t know, but he holds Roy's gaze, nonetheless. 

Roy’s cock bobs enthusiastically in response, wondering if this was all some fucked-up sex dream he was going to wake up from. Roy places gentle yet firm hands on your hips as he draws you backward against his erection. He paces himself, rubbing his tip against your slick entrance as his hands grope your ass in awe.

Jason's hard, spending a little too much time pumping his cock to spread his body wash for Roy not to notice. The way your head is pressed against the tiles keeps your face out of the spray but also means that you can see both Roy and Jason. 

You huff, arching your back even further 

“Talk to me, baby,” Roy practically purrs, grabbing a handful of your ass as his cock continues to rub against your slick folds. It’s enough friction to leave your legs shaking with want.

Your half-lidded eyes sear into Roy’s lower abdomen like a siren’s call and, boy, is Roy ready to go overboard.

“Please, Roy,” you moan as you press your ass against his hard cock. You wriggle backward, hoping to gain more traction, but he continues to taunt you with the promise of his heavy heat. “I want you to fuck me.”

“You need me to wreck that pretty little cunt of yours, baby?”

You nod, biting at the corner of your lip. Jason curses somewhere beside the two of you and it’s all the encouragement Roy needs to put on a show.

He drags his hands up your wet, lithe body as you perch so beautifully for him to take. He fondles your tits as he covers more and more your body with his own until his mouth is directly next to your left ear. On your right, Jason watches, emerald eyes lit with barely retrained want.

Roy smirks at his friend before turning his attention back to you. His deep voice rumbles lowly against the shell of your ear, “Beg.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, turning your head to the other side to capture his lips with yours. “I need you to fill me up, I’m so wet for you, Roy.” To prove it, you press backward into his erection- as if Roy wasn’t already restraining himself from fucking your cunt full of his come. “My pussy’s aching for you, please,” your sinful voice begs.

Jason’s remained entirely quiet up until this point. “Finger her,” he commands.

Roy barely holds himself back from shivering under Jason’s commanding tone, leaving him no choice but to obey. He teases you, tickling along your labia before briefly teasing your leaking entrance. Your mouth opens and produces a porn-worthy moan, only to remain open and empty when Roy finally reaches your clit.

Jason bites his lip, looking between you and Roy for permission to oblige to your body’s reaction. Roy looks down at you, but your tongue has already lulled out to accept Jason’s girthy cock.

Roy shifts the position so you’re all in between the two shower sprays. You’re bent over, in between the two muscular men, with your face eye-level with Jason’s bobbing cock. Meanwhile, Roy’s soft hands hold your hips steady as he lines himself back up with your entrance.

Once you’re all settled, you waste no time in surging forward to swallow around Jason’s impressive length. Spit trails down the sides of your mouth as you force him deeper down your throat.

Your muffled moans and sighs are all the encouragement Roy needs.

He whines pathetically when the tip of his cock finally breeches your tight entrance, waiting briefly as you become accustomed to his girth.

Your voice is godly, so it’s no wonder that the little pleased noises you make are heavenly. Your breathy moans echo across the small room as Roy finally takes what he’s always wanted. 

The wet heat of your cunt draws the most pathetic noises out of Roy as he slowly fucks his tip into you with a fluid motion of his freckled hips. Each shallow thrust leaves you aching and pressing back into him to beg for more.

“So good for us, aren’t you, baby?” Roy bites his lip impishly as he meets Jason’s half-lucid gaze head-on. Roy’s tip catches deliciously against your twitching cunt, forcing out a wanton moan that vibrates up to the very base of Jason’s cock.  

Without warning, Jason groans as he releases your hair. 

Roy looks questioningly at him before he’s pulled forward by his fiery hair to meet Jason’s eager lips. Roy can tell when you’ve begun sucking again because Jason’s lips become sloppier and more aggressive as they mesh against Roy’s chapped ones. When they break apart for air, Jason’s hand remains firm in Roy’s long, fiery locks. He pants, leaning his forehead against Roy’s while you eagerly work your body in between them.

Jason takes it upon himself to punish your ass cheeks while Roy uses his free hand to tangle in your tresses and tug. All the while, the men remain connected by their violent clashing of spit and teeth above your pliant arch. You feel your inhibitions deliciously slipping with every passing moment.

For once, you’re not being quiet.

If anything, it seems like Jason knew the only way to shut up your sultry whines was with his cock. The thought alone nearly sends Roy over the edge again.

He breaks away from his raven-haired best friend to grab desperately for your swinging tits. His gentle hands squeeze and jiggle them with his thrusts slowing.

“Don’t wanna come again, baby,” he whimpers, flicking your nipples so that you unleash an equally pathetic noise. 

Jason smirks. “Fuck that.”

You get no further warning before Jason’s calloused hand comes down on your ass cheek. His thick cock catches the majority of your pleasured scream, though not completely. Roy rubs the spot, completely hypnotized at the red shape forming across your skin, then quickly pulls away and motions for Jason to repeat the erotic action.

With each hit, your moan reverberates around his cock deliciously. 

A particularly hard smack forces Jason deeper into your pliant throat until he’s forced to grab a fistful of your hair to control the pace.

You feel entirely filled. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the realization as you allow your biggest crushes to use your body in the best way.

“Yeah,” Jason says darkly. At the same time, he grabs your chin, squishing your cheeks in the process as he ruthlessly fucks against your swollen lips. His voice is a dark timbre that shakes every particle of your being. “Take that shit, you fucking slut,” Jason hisses. He wraps his hand around your hair again as he reaches forward to smack your ass.

Your hips stutter as you whimper against the dominant pace of Jason’s hips against your mouth. “Fuck,” you whimper.

His eyes contain an emerald ire, as if he’s just barely restraining himself from pushing Roy aside and fucking you like he knows you like. You can’t help but stutter forward, body spasming in Roy’s secure grasp as your orgasm releases a euphoric, chilling heat all across your body.

Jason removes his dick, moving to support your weight with Roy as they savor every wrecked moan that crackles from your abused throat.

They only allow you to recover for so long before Jason smacks his veiny cock against the side of your mouth for you to open again. “Just like that,” he rumbles your name out lowly. “Good girl.” He nods at Roy who follows his lead and smacks your ass, reveling in how your abused cheeks jiggle salaciously in response.

Jason drags his cock in and out of your swollen, spit-covered lips a few more times before he maneuvers himself into a crouch.

“What are you-" you start, but his gentle fluttering against your clit cuts you off immediately. 

His rough hand instantly stifles your wrecked moan. “I know you can come again,” Jason says, drawing another pathetic weep from you. “That’s right, you’re gonna show Roy what a slut you are, aren’t you?” Your thighs unwittingly snap shut around Jason’s skillful fingers, only to instantly be forced back open with a dark smirk. “There we go.”

His dark green eyes capture yours as he slurps at his slick-covered fingers before shoving them down your throat.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He chuckles darkly, looking between his two-fucked out partners with a sadistic glee only Jason could harbor. He shoves his calloused fingers further down your throat, earning a low moan that vibrates straight down to his cock. You wriggle impatiently and he gets the message. Jason’s free hand snakes teasingly down your panting torso to tickle your pulsating clit while his other hand fucks into your obedient throat.

With his expert fingers, it’s no surprise that you come again.

Your wobbly knees nearly give out to crumble down onto Roy’s dirty, discarded uniform on the floor below you. Luckily, he catches you before you can come back into contact with the disgusting swamp muck. 

Roy forces his dick back inside your overly-sensitive cunt without missing a beat.

“Roy!” you exclaim as the overwhelming yet welcomed stretch starts up again. Your thighs have yet to stop shaking, but if anything, it only makes Roy fuck into you with reckless, primal abandon. 

His freckled hips snap in and out of your doubled-over body at a toe-curling pace while Jay pumps his cock at the desperate display.

Roy doesn’t last much longer after your second orgasm.

The lewd sound of his dick squelching in and out of your slick-filled pussy, coupled with the clenching of your fluttering heat does him in.

What Roy doesn’t expect is for Jason to watch him come so carnally. 

“You good?” Jason’s voice rumbles lowly like a predator closing in on his prey. It draws another spurt of come from his sore dick with a pained groan.

“Fuck, Jay,” he pants as he looks between you and his friend. 

Roy tiredly crumbles to the dirty uniforms below with you still in his arms. You willingly follow, too exhausted to remain standing.

“Don’t think I’d mind seeing the two of you like this again,” Jason says. He stands from his crouch, staring down at the two of you with a domineering demeanor. “Shit. Yes,” he groans when you and Roy move toward his thick cock in transfixed unison. “So fucking good.”

You and Roy share Jason nicely, taking turns licking lewdly up and down his veiny length. It takes a moment to find a rhythm, but once you do, you’re eagerly sucking and exchanging heavy-lidded glances with the redhead beside you.

Roy takes over, flicking and moving his tongue obscenely for your pleasure. When he pulls off, he spits onto Jason’s dick, causing it to bob up and down in arousal. You waste no time in slurping it up, using it as lube to work Jason’s cock deeper down your throat. This, however, only lasts so long before Roy’s grabbing the back of your head to pull you in for a messy, toe-curling kiss.

He stares down at Roy’s noisy slurps, then at your teasing flicks with barely concealed dark want hiding behind his slitted emerald eyes.

He’s rough with both of you, taking a fistful of each of your hair to intermittently draw each of you down onto his cock, one after the other. If no one had heard you getting the best orgasms of your life earlier, they were now definitely hearing Jason’s gasps and curses clear as day.

You feel Roy’s eyes on you the entire time. Normally you’d be anxious with his undivided attention, but right now, it only spurs you to suck in Jason’s length deeper. You moan around his cock, feeling tears trickle out onto your cheeks as you finally manage to reach his hairy base.

Roy’s hands flit across your body, finally landing on your tits as he leaves open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive neck. You instinctively lean into the touch, eyes rolling to the back of your head, when Jason slowly begins to rock in and out of your throat.

They’re both unable to tear their eyes away from the show you’re putting on, but it does stop Roy’s breathy question, “You like having both of us sucking your dick, Jay?”

“Shut up, Harper,” Jason groans as he halfheartedly glares down at the redhead. 

All at once, your deep-throating ceases as Jason replaces your mouth with Roy’s.

You watch as Roy gets a far more aggressive treatment as if they’ve done this before. Jason’s brows furrow together as his long fingers regain their grip on Roy’s fiery tresses before snapping far down into his throat at a brutal pace.

You gasp at the sight and are even more surprised they both falter to look at you.

“I-" What do you even say? ‘This is the hottest shit I’ve ever seen and I want both of you in me at the same time’?

“Well,” Roy smirks wolfishly after he pulls off of Jason’s red-tipped cock with a lewd ‘pop,' “I’m down.” Jason’s biting down painfully on his lower lip, cock gripped strongly in his fist as he wills himself not to come from your words alone. Seeing this, Roy, of course, doesn’t let him off the hook so easily. “Would you want that, Jay? You want to feel that wet, tight cunt again while your dick rubs against mine?”

You’ve never seen someone come so fast.

Jason’s lips part slightly as he pumps his hot come all across your and Roy’s fucked-out, sweat-glistened bodies. His moan is breathy, slightly broken as the last of his orgasm spurts out across the two of your expectant tongues.

“Fuck,” Jason curses. He stares down at both of your slumped, sticky bodies like he’s trying to figure out if this is actually real.

By the time you’re all done making up for all the lost time, your fingers have pruned and your legs are too wobbly to hold your body. Needless to say, the quick trek back to the cockpit is the worst walk of shame any of you have ever experienced.

A/N: this was a total self indulgent fic- i hope you enjoyed and lmk if you did! I've been in a huge creative rut recently :\

[end] || ao3 || pinned || ways to support

[tatatmic]

:･ﾟ✩ 2 COOL 4 SKOOL ✩:･ﾟ✩

; Intro: 2 Cool 4 Skool ;

@/sckool24 (mess sorry)

; We Are Bulletproof pt. 2 ;

@/bullertproof / bulletrproof

@/bulletwoof (bullet + part [two] + pro[of]) (mess sorry)

@/arwbullet / arwebullet ([we] [ar]e [bullet]proof) (mess sorry)

; Skit: Circle Room Talk ;

@/circleskit / skitcircle

; No More Dream ;

@/nodreamvs (no more dream + mvs)

@/not7dream ([no] more dream + ot7) (mess sorry)

@/nmrdream / nwmrdream

@/nmoredrm

@/nomrdream

; Interlude ;

@/isnterlude

@/inrterlude

@/interluwde

@/intterslude

@/interludette (mess sorry lol)

; I Like It ; (mess sorry)

@/ilikeitmp3

@/ilikeitsus

; Outro: Circle Room Cypher ;

@/outrozcypher

@/outrocyphier

@/cyphercle (cypher + circle) (mess sorry)

@/outrot7

@/cypherseus

; Skit: On The Start Line ;

@/onthwstart

@/startwline

@/skitwline

; Path / Road ;

@/pathdeus / pathseus

@/roadmp3

@/pathscene (+ beyond the [scene])

✩:･ﾟ✩ O!RUL8,2? ✩:･ﾟ✩

; Intro: O!RUL8,2? ;

@/ohreulate / ohrulate (oh a[re] yo[u] late) (mess sorry)

@/introulate (intro + yo[u] late)

; N.O ;

@/lyricswno (lyrics + no)

@/nowmvs (no + mvs)

; We On ;

@/weonmv / weonmvs

@/weondeus / weonseus

; Skit: R U Happy Now? ;

@/skitnow

@/skitrhappy

; If I Ruled the World ;

@/ruIedworId (LL = ii)

; Coffee ;

@/coffeendless

@/coffeelled

@/coffeernate

@/coffeejours

; BTS Cypher Pt. 1 ;

@/cypherwone

; Attack on Bangtan / The Rise of Bangtan ;

@/bngttanck

@/bngtnrise

@/attackboys

; Satoori Rap ;

@/satoorism

@/uttsatoori

@/sawtoori

@/raptoori

; Outro: Luv In Skool ;

@/luvsnkool

@/luvnoutro

@/skoolutro / skooutrol / skooutro

@/luvrskool

✩:･ﾟ✩ Skool Luv Affair ✩:･ﾟ✩

; Intro: Skool Luv Affair ;

@/skooluvffair

@/skoolffair

@/Iuvffair (L = i)

; Boy In Luv ;

@/tboynluv ([tb]h + b[oy] i[n] luv)

@/boynrluv

@/boynzluv

; Skit: Soulmate ;

@/soulwmate

@/joursmate (toujours = always + soulmate)

@/sourlmate

; Where Did You Come From? ;

@/whrdid (mess sorry)

; Just One Day ;

@/tbharuman

@/justhrday (just + hr= haru + day)

@/haruseus

; Tomorrow ;

@/tomorroiw

@/tomowrro

@/tomosrrow

; BTS Cypher Pt. 2: Triptych ;

@/tripcypher

@/triptyrch

@/utlcypher

; Spine Breaker ;

@/spinerbrkr

@/breakspiner

; Jump ;

@/jumpseus

@/jumpstwt / jumptwts

; Outro: Propose ;

@/outropose

@/prowpose

@/missrighrt

@/itslowjam (i like it (slow jam remix)

✩:･ﾟ✩ DARK & WILD ✩:･ﾟ✩

@/darkvwild

@/darkwildsus

; Intro: What am I to You? ;

@/introwhat

; Danger ;

@/offciaIdanger (L = i)

@/featdanger

@/lyricsdanger

; War of Hormone ;

@/kthormone (mess sorry)

@/warfhrmne

@/hormowne

; Hip Hop Lover ;

@/hhplover

; Let me Know ;

@/letmrknow

; Rain ;

@/rainhoutte (+ silhouette) (mess sorry)

@/trailerain

@/rainfelts

; BTS Cypher Pt. 3: Killer ;

@/killwrcypher

@/partkiller

@/cypthkiller

; Interlude: What Are You Doing? ;

@/whtrdoing

@/whaterlude / whterlude

; Would You Turn Off Your Cellphone? / Can You Turn Off Your Phone? ; [mess sorry]

@/wldturn

@/wldphone

; Blanket Kick ;

@/blantkick

@/blanketmp3

@/blankthicc (mess sorry lol)

; 24/7 = Heaven ;

@/heavendless

; Look Here ;

@/lookzhere

; 2nd Grade ;

@/twndgrade ([tw]o + nd + grade)

; Outro: Does That Make Sense? ;

@/outrosznse (outro + sense)

@/outrodoes

✩:･ﾟ✩ The Most Beautiful Moment in Life, Part 1 ✩:･ﾟ✩

; Intro: The Most Beautiful Moment in Life ;

@/themostiful (mess sorry)

; I Need U ;

@/ineedsus

@/ineedusz

; Hold me Tight ;

@/holdmrtight

; Skit: Expectation! ;

@/expecttion

@/exrpectation

; Dope ;

@/dopethyst

@/dopensfw

; Boyz With Fun ;

@/boyszwfun

@/boyzwrfun

; Converse High ;

@/convrsrhigh

@/lyricsnverse (+ lyrics) (mess sorry)

; Moving On ;

@/movingwon

; Outro: Love is Not Over ;

@/outrosnlove

@/loutrover (mess sorry)

✩:･ﾟ✩ The Most Beautiful Moment in Life, Part 2 ✩:･ﾟ✩

; Intro: Never Mind ;

@/nvrwmind / nevrwmind

; Run ;

@/offcialrun

; Butterfly ;

@/buterlyrics

@/bwrtterfly

; Whalien 52 ;

@/wharlien52

; Ma City ;

@/mawrcity

@/ilysmacity (mess sorry lol)

; Silver Spoon ;

@/baespoon

@/silverspoorn

; Skit: One Night in a Strange City ;

@/nightwcity

@/skitnight

; Autumn Leaves ;

@/autmnrleaves

@/tmnleaves

; Outro: House of Cards ;

@/outrorcards

@/housecrds

✩:･ﾟ✩ The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Young Forever ✩:･ﾟ✩

; Fire ;

@/offcialfire

@/fireffct / fireffcts (+ effects)

; Save Me ;

@/lyricsavem / lyricsavme

; Epilogue: Young Forever ;

@/ywngforever

@/epiloguewl

✩:･ﾟ✩ Wings ✩:･ﾟ✩

@/uttwings

@/articwings

; Intro: Boy Meets Evil ;

@/introboysz

@/boysmeetvil

; Blood Sweat & Tears ;

@/bloodwtears

@/bldswtears

@/bldsweatrs

@/bwtears

; Begin ;

@/beginseus

@/bewgins

; Lie ;

@/liedosed

@/outroslie

; Stigma ;

@/soultigma (neo [soul] + stigma)

@/stigmacist (+ supremacist)

; First Love ;

@/firstflove

@/firstdlove

; Reflection ;

@/reflwcttion

@/joonflection

; Mama ;

@/mamalogist (mess sorry)

@/mamajours (+ toujours = always)

; Awake ;

@/awakeffct / awakeffcts (+ effects)

@/awakedeus

; Lost ;

@/lostmvs

@/lostjours (lost + toujours = always)

; BTS Cypher 4 ;

@/cyphefour (mess sorry)

; Am I Wrong? ;

@/featwrong

; 21st Century Girls ;

@/centwrygrls

; Two! Three! (Still Wishing There Will be Better Days) ;

@/betterzdays

@/bttrwdays

; Interlude: Wings ;

@/interlwings

@/intterwings

✩:･ﾟ✩ Wings: You Never Walk Alone ✩:･ﾟ✩

; Spring Day ;

@/sprngdwy

@/springdaiz

@/springcday

; Not Today ;

@/nowttoday

@/nosttoday

@/snwttoday (mess sorry)

; Outro: Wings ;

@/outrownsg

@/featwings

@/outroftwings

; A Supplementary Story: You Never Walk Alone ;

@/trilogynwa

@/lullabynwa

@/frostynwa

[twst-megane]

Assigning BTS Songs to the TWST Boys

I'm letting my ARMY braincells work for this one enjoy!~

Had to split into three parts

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Riddle Rosehearts - Fake Love

❝ For you, I could pretend like I was happy when I was sad For you, I could pretend like I was strong when I was hurt I wish love was perfect as love itself I wish all my weaknesses could be hidden I grew a flower that can’t be bloomed in a dream that can’t come true ❞

Ace Trappola - Boy With Luv

❝ Listen my my baby I'm flying high up in the sky (With the two wings that you gave me back then) Now it's so high up here I want you tuned in to my eyes Yeah, you makin' me a boy with luv ❞

Deuce Spade - MAMA

❝ Hey mama, now you can lean on me I'll always be by your side Hey mama, because you gave selflessly to me Because you were my support Hey mama, now you can believe in your son, you can smile ❞

Cater Diamond - Go Go

❝ Dollar, dollar Squandering it all in one day Run, run, man, I spend it like some party Dollar, dollar Till the sun shines through this mouse hole Till the sun comes up ❞

Trey Clover - Paradise

❝ Stop runnin' for nothin' my friend You don't need something like a dream that everyone dreams Stop runnin' for nothin' my friend Every language that makes you, is already in paradise ❞

Leona Kingscholar - Awake

❝ Maybe I, I can never fly I can't fly like the flower petals over there Or as though I have wings, yeah Maybe I, I can't touch the sky Still, I want to stretch my hand out I want to run, just a bit more ❞

Ruggie Bucchi - Baepsae (Silver Spoon)

❝ Ah, stop going on about "effort" and more "effort" Ah, it makes my skin crawl Ah, try harder, ah, try harder Ah, you really don't have a chance As expected from the ones before us ❞

Jack Howl - We Are Bulletproof Pt. 2

❝ Everywhere I go, everything I do I’ll show you as much as I’ve honed All the people who looked down on me are now ❞

[faggotryandtransjesterism]

if bts end up going on a world tour after they've all returned from the war the military, they had better be putting together the most insane unpredictable setlist known to man. i need it to open with namjoon performing what am I to you by himself. i need to hear tomorrow, hip hop phile, we are bulletproof pt. 1, and begin. they should loop baepsae so they can perform it for ten minutes straight. they should let hobi perform jack in the box all the way through somewhere in the middle. if i don't get outro: her concert performance i will kill myself and if i hear dynamite or butter even once i will kill everyone else. i want to hear songs from namjoon's first mixtape live and i'm willing to make inadvisable choices to get it. if we ask really niceys they will make jimin strip on stage again. dis-ease. house of cards. still with you. people. jump. danger. boy in luv. wishing on a star. and i need yoongi to dye his hair orange again

[sp00kymulderr]

Spots still open for this challenge! Details here

MASTERLIST:

(Please read individual warnings in each fic)

I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love

Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough for the Two of Us

Vampires Will Never Hurt You

Drowning Lessons

Our Lady of Sorrows

Headfirst for Halos

Skylines and Turnstiles

Early Sunsets Over Monroeville - Early Sunsets over Jebble by @clawdeewritesfanfic

This Is the Best Day Ever

Cubicles

Demolition Lovers

Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge

Helena

Give 'Em Hell, Kid

To The End

You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison - all the trouble we’ve seen by @kedsandtubesocks

I'm Not Ok (I Promise)

The Ghost Of You

The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You

Thank You For The Venom

Hang 'Em High

It's Not A Fashion Statement It's A Deathwish

Cemetery Drive

I Never Told You What I Do For A Living

The Black Parade

The End

Dead!

This Is How I Disappear

The Sharpest Lives - Give me a shot to remember (pt 1) by @crowandmousewritingco

Welcome To The Black Parade

I Don't Love You

House Of Wolves

Cancer

Mama

Sleep

Teenagers - Another cog in the murder machine by @crowandmousewritingco

Disenchanted

Famous Last Words

Danger Days

Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na)

Bulletproof Heart

SING

Planetary (Go!)

The Only Hope for Me Is You

Party Poison

Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back

S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W

Summertime

Destroya

The Kids from Yesterday

Vampire Money

We Don't Need Another Song About California

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Telepathy AU Pt 1

So basically, my idea is this-- the next big bad that they face after the finale, is BAD. Like, worse than anything they've faced before, and multiple members of the superfriends have been hurt in the fight against it. Over a few weeks, Kara slowly but surely makes the decision to go against them alone-- she's the only one who can face them and have a chance for survival, and they're after her anyway, so she's not going to let any more of her friends risk their lives any more.

When she and Lena-- they're closer than ever these days, as close as two friends can be without stepping over that terrifying precipice into something more-- are alone in the tower one day, one of Lena's simulations finishes in failure once more. Nothing they've thought to try has worked, or even made a difference.

While Lena is distracted by the computer and her calculations, Kara makes her decision. Without a word, she quietly leaves the lab and closes the pneumatic door behind her. Startled by the hiss of the doors, Lena spins just in time to see Kara disengage the interior sensor, trapping Lena inside.

In an instant, Lena is at the doors, swiping ineffectually at the sensor, trying to get it to open, all the while words spill out of her, angry at first, then panicked. "What are you doing, why are you doing this, you can't do this!"

"I have to," Kara returns sadly. She holds Lena's gaze through the bulletproof glass as Lena pounds on it with increasing fervor, as though it may--it will-- be the last time she looks at her best friend. Like she's memorizes face, her eyes. "I won't watch any of you die. Not when I have a chance to stop it."

"Oh, but you'd make us watch? At the wedding we said we'd do this together! You promised!"

"I'm sorry."

Kara turns away, set in her decision. As she slowly walks towards the balcony to take her final flight as Supergirl, Lena grows frantic.

"No, I love you! Please don't do this! You can't do this!"

"I'm sorry," Kara returns. Though she paused briefly at Lena's admission, she doesn't turn around, knowing that to look at her friend would only weaken her resolve.

Neither of them notice the invisible energy between them, lifting the hair on their arms and rustling the papers in Lena's lab. Lena can only see Kara, and Kara can hear only Lena.

"I already lost you once! Please. Please don't make me do it again!"

Unable to respond, Kara simply pushes onward, stepping over the threshold onto the balcony.

All of a sudden, the forces gathering around Lena tightens sharply.

"NOOOO!"

A tidal wave of energy surges outward from Lena. In a violent explosion the glass trapping her shatters into thousands of pieces and pours into the rooms beyond. Chair tip over and tables squeal under the force of it, enough so that even Kara has to dig her heels in to withstand it.

When it wanes mere moments afterwards, an unnatural calm settles over the tower. Kara spins to face Lena, shock and concern in her eyes at the unexpected display of unimaginable power.

"What--"

Before Kara can finish Lena's eyes roll back in her head and her entire body slumps.

"Lena!"

In an instant Kara is there to catch her, just as Lena's knees slam the floor and she pitches forward.

Lena comes to quickly, though her body trembles and her voice is ragged. She mutters something Kara can't quite discern.

"What?"

Lena takes a deep breath, gathering just enough strength to lift herself out of Kara's bracing arms.

"I said I'm sorry," Lena croaks. "But I can't let you do this."

Before Kara can even puzzle what she means, Lena reaches up and touches two fingers to Kara's forehead. This time, it's Kara's turn to slump into sleep, and Lena can barely manage to lower her to the floor before she too collapses, falling unconscious beside her.

[toodle-coups]

Soooo I am starting my journey as an ARMY as someone who was a casual listener of BTS and lowkey Jimin solo stan.

I just started listening to 2 Cool 4 Skool. That intro was very ghetto😂 Like the intro was more black than me frfr

I’m fucking with We Are Bulletproof, pt. 2. A really strong song to start the album off with. But where is Pt. 1???

[park-jimin-isnt-real]

"dusk" masterlist

pairing(s): yoongi x reader (endgame); kai (exo) x reader; kai x oc (endgame); side namhope, jinkook, vmin rating: PG-16 genre: twilight au, urban fantasy(ish) romance current total wc: n/a

summary: When you moved to Forks, Washington, you only expected awkward conversations with your adopted sister's biological father and a lot of rain. You did not expect to see the love of your life walk through the high school cafeteria doors - especially when you thought he died back in 1918. But Yoongi doesn't remember you, and believes you to be fully human. With the seemingly endless amount of danger coming your way, how long can you keep the act up?

tw: angst, depression, suicide attempt, violence, fights, murder, blood drinking, liar revealed storyline, fluff & crack, yoongi and a piano, mint yoongi, so many kpop groups and soloists, chaotic taehyung, covering twilight-new moon-eclipse, i am not touching breaking dawn, nearly everyone goes by their real name not their stage name ~ this will be updated as the series goes on!

read on ao3 ~ read on wattpad character profiles playlist ~ faq moodboards ~ characters ~ pt.1 main masterlist

act i ~ dusk

prologue: when dusk falls ~ one: and they were roommates ~ two: just another fucking monday

three: they always say 'i can explain!' but they never get the chance to ~ four: in case you haven't noticed, i'm weird. i'm a weirdo. ~ five: rule #1: the doctor lies

six: get in loser, we're going shopping ~ seven: hi, welcome to chili's ~ eight: my brand of heroine

nine: "be myself", what kind of garbage advice is that? ~ ten: late-night interview with a vampire ~ eleven: and then i didn't

twelve: the iconic baseball scene ~ thirteen: there's only one snacc here and it's me ~ fourteen: how to run from the mess you've made

fifteen: not everywhere you fit in is where you belong ~ sixteen: was that the bite of '87?! ~ seventeen: it's just a flesh wound

act ii ~ dark

eighteen: and you did it at my birthday dinner ~ nineteen: as if i never existed ~ twenty: don't cry, craft!

twenty-one: it is wednesday my dudes ~ twenty-two: top 10 anime betrayals ~ twenty-three: take a number

twenty-four: at least there's a dog ~ twenty-five: wishful thinking, mindless dreaming ~ twenty-six: a world so dark

twenty-seven: so maybe i'm not okay ~ twenty-eight: v is for validation ~ twenty-nine: we could be

thirty: my past, my future, my hell ~ thirty-one: now would be a good time to be anyone but me ~ thirty-two: orpheus and eurydice

twenty-three: late-night interview with a half-vampire ~ thirty-four: feel my wrath and extreme self-doubt ~ thirty-five: how to be a failure 101

act iii ~ dawn

thirty-six: oh my god they were roommates ~ thirty-seven: howdy-do, fellow kids ~ thirty-eight: it's murder time

thirty-nine: the fine art of bullshit ~ forty: hey guys, i'm really trying here ~ forty-one: alexa, intruder alert

forty-two: thanks, i hate it ~ forty-three: you, bulletproof, in black like a funeral ~ forty-four: prom (an important high school rite of passage)

forty-five: there's no 'i' in 'justice league' ~ forty-six: the blood on your hands ~ forty-seven: probably unethical experimentation

forty-eight: i promise to love you forever ~ forty-nine: late-night interview with a werewolf ~ fifty: murder time is now almost exclusively the time, always

fifty-one: for what it's worth ~ fifty-two: t.g.i.f. ~ epilogue: dawn was breaking

[for-yoongi0309]

[NOTICE] BTS PERMISSION TO DANCE ON STAGE in THE US Release announcement

We are excited to announce the release of BTS PERMISSION TO DANCE ON STAGE in THE U.S.

BTS PERMISSION TO DANCE ON STAGE in THE U.S. filled two cities – Los Angeles in 2021 and Las Vegas in 2022 - with a sea of purple lights and thunderous cheers. We’ve compiled these special memories between BTS and ARMY, with the first show in LA’s SoFi Stadium and the last show in LV’s Allegiant Stadium. As a token of appreciation for the unwavering love from ARMY worldwide and the long two-year wait, We present you with stunning 4K resolution videos that showcase BTS’s passionate performances and the incredible energy of the audience. And that’s not all – get ready dive deeper with behind-the-scenes footage from studio practices and rehearsals in both cities, d-day sketches, and heartfelt interviews with the members in LA. The renewed digital code, designed to let you relive these cherished memories, are made with recycled materials as a reflection of our commitment to sustainability. Also, don’t miss out on an array of special items that connect the purple wave and the orange passion, including a photobook set, a photo card set, a fold card, a postcard frame holder set, and a photo charm set! The pre-order for ‘BTS PERMISSION TO DANCE ON STAGE in THE US’ begins on November 17, with the official release on January 05, 2024.

For those who want to enjoy the LA show to the fullest– The concert film for “Permission to Dance on Stage – LA” Day 2 is available for streaming on Disney+. [Weverse Shop-US] • PRE-ORDER DATE : From 11 AM, Friday, November 17, 2023 (KST) *WHILE SUPPLIES LAST* • RELEASE DATE : January 5, 2024 (PST)

- OUT BOX Size : 152x206x38mm Note: This outbox is designed to protect the product during distribution. Exchanges or refunds due to stains or damage during distribution is not available. [SPEC] 1. DIGITAL CODE+PHOTO CHARM SET DIGITAL CODE Size : 27x85mm [144p], [270p], [360p], [480p SD], [720p HD], [1080p FHD], 1440P[FHD] 2160P[UHD] KOREAN, ENGLISH, JAPANESE, CHINESE ABOUT 511 MINS *This product is made of recycled plastics, so the marbling pattern varies for all products. Furthermore, natural phenomena such as tiny spots and parting lines may occur naturally as part of the manufacturing process in some products, and they are not considered defects. PHOTO CHARM SET PHOTO CHARM Size : 50x78mmㅣ1EA (RANDOM 1EA OF 7EA) FRAME CHARM Size : 50x78mmㅣ1EA 2. PHOTOBOOK SET Size : 148x189mmㅣ2EA 1SET Los Angeles - 132P Las Vegas - 132P 3. PHOTOCARD SET Size : 54x86mmㅣ7EA 1SET 4. FOLDING CARD Size : 720x90mmㅣ1EA 5. POSTCARD+FRAME STAND SET POSTCARD Size : 152x102mmㅣ1EA FRAME STAND Size : 185x132mmㅣ1EA [CONTENTS] MAKING-OF FILM PTD Los Angeles PRACTICE & REHEARSAL SKETCH PTD Los Angeles D-DAY SKETCH PTD Los Angeles INTERVIEW PTD Las Vegas PRACTICE & REHEARSAL SKETCH PTD Las Vegas D-DAY SKETCH BTS PERMISSION TO DANCE ON STAGE in THE US : 1st Concert @ Los Angeles ON Burning Up (FIRE) Dope DNA Blue & Grey Black Swan Blood Sweat & Tears + FAKE LOVE Life Goes On Boy With Luv Dynamite Butter Airplane pt.2 + Silver Spoon + Dis-ease Telepathy Stay So What I Need U + SAVE ME IDOL We Are Bulletproof : the Eternal Permission to Dance

BTS PERMISSION TO DANCE ON STAGE in THE US : Last Concert @ Las Vegas ON Burning Up (FIRE) Dope DNA Blue & Grey Black Swan Blood Sweat & Tears + FAKE LOVE Life Goes On Boy With Luv Dynamite Butter Telepathy Wings Stay + So What IDOL Anpanman + Go Go Permission to Dance How To Watch “BTS PERMISSION TO DANCE ON STAGE in THE US” Watch the high definition VODs on Weverse by registering/verifying the digital code on the product enclosed with the merchandise. [How To Use The Digital Code] - MOBILE * QR code: Using the smartphone camera, scan the QR code to visit m.weverse.io/code/dc. Redeem the digital code and enjoy the video on the Weverse app!

※ This product is made of paper certified by Forest Stewardship Council and printed with biodegradable soy ink.

※ Please be aware that sizes and content are subject to change depending on production company circumstances.

※ Due to the nature of the materials, there may be cracks, discoloration or color bleeding in the product.

※ Please note that the perforations on the outbox may show signs of cracking due to the nature of the material.

ⓟ&ⓒ 2023 BIGHIT MUSIC & HYBE. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

MADE IN KOREA.

[agvstdae]

BANGBANG CON ‘24 SETLIST

the red bullet:

N.O.

We Are Bulletproof pt.2

We On

Hip Hop Phile

Let Me Know

Rain

Embarrassed

Look Here

Outro: Propose

No More Dream

Tomorrow

Danger

Boy In Luv

Road

Jump

Attack On Bangtan

wings tour, the final:

Mic Drop

We Are Bulletproof pt. 1, 2

Hip Hop Phile

Cypher pt. 1, 2, 3, 4

Begin

Lie

First Love

So Far Away

Lost

Save Me

I NEED U

Reflection

Stigma

MAMA

Awake

DNA

Go Go

N.O.

No More Dream

Boy In Luv

Danger

Fire

Run

Blood, sweat and tears

You Never Walk Alone

Best of Me

Road

Born Singer

Spring Day

Outro: Wings

speak yourself, the final:

Dionysus

Not Today

Outro: Wings

Just Dance

Euphoria

Best of Me

Serendipity

Trivia: Love

Boy with Luv

Dope

Baepsae

Fire (Burning Up)

Run

Singularity

Fake Love

Trivia: Seesaw

Epiphany

The Truth Untold

Outro: Tear

Mic Drop

Idol

Anpanman

So What

Make It Right

Mikrokosmos

Happy 11 years w/ BANGTAN 💜