#a bit of redness cause i burn easy but nothing impossible; i sit down

[helreigns]

okay so looking @ this blue box still annoys me but lemme tell you all some funny shit that happened at my last job interview

[aro-is-gay-af]

The Midnight of Despair | Volturi Kings x fem!reader | Part 3

I reckon, that if you’re reading Part 3, then you know two previous ones. In case you didn’t read them yet: Part 1 | Part 2

Thank you for all warm words and praise! It means world to me. 

I also love this series, folks! I need to admit, I did get addicted to it a little, so I thought it’d be great to set updates schedule. It won’t be precise, but you can expect another part roughly in two weeks time from now. 

As per usual, sorry for any confusion and grammatical mistakes. 

Warnings: Rape (mentioned), Depression, PTSD, Forced Pregnancy, Blood

Word count: 6200

No summary this time. Also, this one has very sweet parts in it!!!

ENJOY!

The next day, you had your appointment with the doctor. A doctor was apparently a woman and you were sure the kings were paying her something extra for the visit to be immediate. Unfortunately, she didn’t know any English, as she was a local gynaecologist. Your mates didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable in any way, so before the visit, Aro asked you, who you’d like to be the translator for you.

The ideal situation would be a woman, but you didn’t trust anyone in the castle, except the kings. For this reason, your first shot was Aro, as he had already seen your memories. There was nothing that would shock him, you also didn’t need to hide anything from him and you knew, he was the best at dealing with others. You figured it’d be an ideal solution and you had to admit to yourself that you simply wanted him to accompany you.

The whole visit took place in your room, which meant a lot of carrying the necessary equipment, but more mental comfort for you. In those two days, you managed to get quite settled in and didn't want to leave the castle. You felt safe and secured in your suite. Kings seemed to notice that, as it was Marcus, who proposed, it would be a great idea to have an appointment without the need of leaving your room.

While you both were waiting for the doctor to come, it was the first time you had seen Aro with brown eyes. He looked really out of place. You shared this thought with him, by saying you prefer when his eyes are normal. That’s what it took. Two days, to consider red eyes normal. As usual, he was polite and revealed to you that he also hated the colour, let alone the lenses.

When the doctor finally arrived, you were already a nervous wreck. Aro tried to distract you, asking questions mainly about your house in Forks and whether you had already spoken to Bella about family heirlooms. He succeeded for a while, but it couldn't last forever, could it?

The lady was extremely kind and gentle. The truth was, it was hard to hide how stressed you were about this visit. You didn't want anyone to touch you, not when you weren't ready, and this time you definitely weren't. Despite the doctor's initial efforts, you were unable to shake her hand in greeting. She only smiled sadly, as if understanding perfectly what you were going through. Aro assured you beforehand, for he had not told her anything and only if you wanted to, you should share your trauma with her.

The doctor, seeing your nervousness, decided that you should talk first. While she asked you questions, you noticed that she chose her words carefully and only then did you realise that she was also stressed, but in her case it was probably Aro's presence that made her uncomfortable. Although Aro tried not to impose his presence on her, you understood why it might overwhelm the doctor. You felt confident being in the same room with Aro, while she probably sensed danger, even if she could not rationally explain it to herself. You promised yourself that you would try to learn at least the basics of Italian before the next visit.

She needed to ask you about exactly everything since, unfortunately, you didn't have any medical records with you - neither from the obduction, nor from the subsequent visit to the doctor, where you confirmed the pregnancy. You made a mental note to tell Bella about it, so she could send your documents, along with the things she was supposed to take from your house.

Aro was great in his translator role. Of course, you were still looking at the doctor, while answering the questions, but Aro’s voice, at least, soothed your shattered nerves just a little bit. When the questions started to get more complicated or more intimate, Aro used such words as to not make you feel uncomfortable, while still conveying the meaning.  The more difficult part started, when you had to describe the situation from the hospital and how long it took for the bleeding to stop. Every word seemed linked to a particular image or smell from that night, until finally, you were unable to say anything at all.

The doctor was very understanding, probably having already guessed what exactly was your weird behaviour all about. You didn't say anything directly, you only described the situation from the hospital and then told her the details of this strange bleeding after the rape. Mainly because the doctor was very concerned about it. She explained to you that it was definitely not normal, even if you had wounds inside.

The worst part, however, was the examination. You didn't even want to think about whether you would have to undress, but it turned out to be unnecessary. The doctor had a great intuition, even if she herself was under a bit of stress. You told her that, indeed, you had been to the check-up before and that was how you found out you were pregnant. And that the doctor then checked if all the wounds had healed. The lady didn’t discuss the issue, for which you were very grateful.

After the interview, the doctor told you to lie down on the bed and only pull your blouse up, high enough for your belly to be visible. You didn't feel comfortable with this, but you preferred this way to undressing from the waist down. This was the first time you didn't feel comfortable lying on that bed. You knew that once the visit was over, everything would return to normal, but it wasn’t meant to become a memory you would return to with pleasure.

As it turned out, your first trimester was long over. The pregnancy was about 14 weeks old and that would explain the slight curving of your belly. Before the appointment, you were not sure if you would even look at the monitor to see the baby, but you did. You could not deny yourself this. The room fell silent and you could not tell what you were feeling.

The doctor pulled out some kind of a strange device and after a moment, you could hear the baby's heart. You glanced in the direction of Aro, who was obviously alarmed by your face. You grimaced, too overwhelmed to say anything to him. Up until this point, you were sure that the decision, if you should terminate the pregnancy or not, would be fairly easy. Now, you were certain that nothing in your life could be simple enough.

 *

 Over the next few weeks, your day usually looked the same or similar, yet you managed to do something completely different every day. You were glad you had so much to do, because you didn't have time to think about what had happened. You didn't want to analyse it over and over again. The kings respected your choice - unless you yourself mentioned the traumatic events, not a single insinuation or implication about it fell from their lips.

Your days were filled with various activities. Every day you spent at least some time with each king in private - you knew you needed this to create and strengthen your bond. To keep you from being inundated with information, you learned something new from each of them about vampires and their lifestyle. After all, it was supposed to become your lifestyle in the nearest future. You discovered that thinking about your transformation caused you far less anxiety, than any memory associated with rape. Even after you learned that it more or less consisted of burning alive for a few days.

During your time with the kings, you tried not to show the insecurity you had acquired about your body, and yet, you were sure they knew anyway. However, the time spent with them was what you treasured most. With each of them you did something different, as you wanted to know what they like to do in their free time. Marcus, as he had promised on the first day, taught you Italian for two hours every day. It was not easy, but after a few weeks of intensive course and communicating in broken Italian, not only with Marcus, but also with the other two, you were able to maintain basic conversation.

Marcus was a great teacher, but that wasn’t the only reason why you loved spending time with him. He was the one who had the most time for you - he wasn't as busy as Aro or Caius, and besides, he had countless amounts of patience. He wasn't tired of your constant questions, not only about vampirism, but also about his past. You would often sit for hours in the library or in the gardens, which, by the way, were breathtaking. You both loved books and your only regret was that you weren't able to read most of their vast collection. Marcus assured you, you would have all eternity to do so. You could talk with him endlessly, as these conversations were truly effortless – even the most difficult topics seemed simple and uncomplicated.

You were surprised to learn about a gift of his. Your human mind was unable to comprehend it in the full sense of the word. Mostly because of this, he was the one to explain to you, what your bond even was and how exactly it worked. You have learned that after your transformation, you will feel the bond even more strongly. It is not often that one person has as many as three matches and is able to feel the bond while being human. Marcus explained to you that for now, both your mind and body are only subconsciously sensing the presence of the mates, as it’s impossible for human senses to do anything else.

It was so remarkable to you that you discussed it for hours. You also learned that the bond can be broken, as it is not forced in any way. However, this would be emotionally painful and very few vampires would choose to take such a desperate step.

One afternoon you were spending time in the garden again. You loved being outdoors, but for your own safety you did not go outside the castle grounds. Together, you decided that it would be safer to do only after your transformation. Besides, you didn't want to go anywhere. You were safe under the watchful eye of your mates and Renata, who, apart from the time spent with the kings and in your room, followed you in a constant manner.

The gardens were gorgeous and you wondered, who was taking care of all those magnificent flowers. You were strongly convinced that this was exactly what Eden might have looked like. You and Marcus had your favourite bench. You spent a lot of time outside, especially on sunny days. When you first found out why sitting in the sun might be a problem, you couldn't take your eyes off Marcus. He shimmered brilliantly, but your eyesight couldn't stand it for too long, because of the blinding effect. The gardens, however, were fenced off and inaccessible to the common passer-by, so you were safe to stay, as long as you wanted to.

“I asked Aro recently, if vampires can be killed in some way,” you began cautiously, not wanting to scare him away from this conversation. No one had talked to you about it, however, it still crossed your mind what state Marcus was in when you first saw him. You were willing to swear you looked exactly the same after your mother died. Now, knowing what all the mating bond was about, you were convinced that Marcus had lost someone dear to his heart.

As per usual, he smiled gently at you.

“I'm sure his answer was sufficient, my dear. What are you aiming at?” he asked, looking at you obliquely.

You took his hand in yours. With Marcus, physical contact was as easy as a conversation. He, however, never initiated any touch. He waited for you, just like he was waiting now, to reach for his hand or gently grasp his arm. The only movement he allowed himself was to stroke your hair every now and then, but only when he was absolutely sure you were willing.

“I wanted to ask what happens to the bond, when the vampire…is no longer here,” you said bluntly, not taking your eyes off him. Your understanding was unique. Marcus was gentle in manner, patient and extremely caring towards you. In no way did you want to ruin, what you had built over those few weeks.

His smile turned into one of the saddest you've seen on his face. By the time he answered, you regretted asking at all. You didn't want to cause him pain. You squeezed his fingers in your palm.

“Until you came to Volterra, I was sure that a vampire could only experience this special, unique bond once in a lifetime. I did experience it, yet this story does not have a happy ending,” he said, with utmost sadness in his voice.

Your heart ached, as you watched his suffering and grief. You had asked the question unnecessarily, but now there was no turning back. You continued to stroke his fingers, holding his hand securely in yours.

“When one of the vampires connected by mating bond dies, it does not mean that the bond disappears. It exists, but only on one side. It cannot be cherished, it cannot be repaired in any way. It isn’t reciprocated. What remains are the memories, and they are the only reminder of what the bond really meant, when it existed,” he explained in a distressed voice, slowly and carefully.

Holding his hand, you laid your head on his shoulder and sighed heavily.

“I'm so sorry this happened to you,” you whispered after a moment, feeling tears stinging under your eyelids. Even now, you couldn't imagine losing any of them and you couldn't possibly envision the amount of pain Marcus had gone through.

He embraced you carefully and gently hugged you to his side.

"Don't fret over it, cara. I've made my peace with it. However, that doesn't mean I've forgotten. I still miss her, after all these years," he said with longing in his voice, stroking your shoulder gently.

After a long moment of silence, you were in a genuinely poor condition. Tears dripped down your cheeks and your breathing quickened. Not only because of the pain Marcus must have gone through, but also because of your own yearning. You had come to terms with the death of your parents, but you missed them so much. You wanted to have them at least a little longer. Now, standing on the verge of immortality, you wished you had spent more time with them.

Marcus placed a kiss on your hair.

“Sob it out, dear. Nothing helps the soul more than honest tears,” he whispered, and you were ashamed, because you should be the one providing comfort for him. However, the memories were too fresh and you couldn't hold it back.

Once you had calmed down a bit, he handed you a handkerchief to wipe away your tears.

“I wish I could change my memories. Even if it was only for a brief moment to be able to forget that I will never see them again. To be able to forget what this…this monster did to me,” you whispered, snuggling tighter into his shoulder.

You heard his sigh and his embrace around your shoulder tightened.

“You have been terribly abused, cara. No one deserves such a fate. The most important thing now, is to get on with life. Our loved ones would not want us to dwell on their deaths,” he said, as wise and thoughtful, as ever. The hatred towards your abuser was palpable in Marcus’s voice.

“You are so good to me. I don't deserve this,” you whispered after a while, your voice swollen with emotion. He only smiled indulgently.

“You deserve the very best, dear. I've already lost one mate. I won't let anyone hurt you.”

“I’m sure she would be proud of you,” you said with compassion, after another moment of silence.

“I’m not quite certain about that,” he said, placing another kiss on the top of your head.

But you were sure. You were also sure, you would do anything to prevent Marcus from experiencing something like this again. You knew all too well the taste of grief.

 *

 You truly had little time to think about the rape and pregnancy at all. If you weren’t with Marcus, it was Caius who loved to kidnap you, so he could spent some private time with you. Caius was the complete opposite of Marcus – absolute chaos, you could say. You had no idea how the brothers even got along. You had already noticed that Marcus rarely spoke, while Caius was rather impulsive and liked to discuss things in detail. However, until you started spending time alone, you had no idea what he was really passionate about.

It turned out that his greatest passion was art. He would show you countless paintings he himself had painted throughout the centuries. He could talk for hours about types of paint and how to mix colours properly. Although you were not very good at painting, you tried to learn a little with Caius’ help. When he was alone with you, he was still abrupt and impulsive, but in a charming way. He never imposed himself on you and you discovered that annoying him was really great fun. So banter and frequent teasing were the order of the day.

You often spent afternoons and evenings with Caius. He taught you how to paint, but not only. Art history was his passion and you loved to listen to him tell stories. His voice was mesmerising and hypnotic. He also eagerly answered all your questions about vampire race. You listened about the horrible children of the moon and how Caius singlehandedly had almost slaughtered them all. He warned you that after the transformation you would be violent and impulsive, that you would have nothing on your mind but to satisfy your thirst. This frightened you slightly, but at times when things got weird or dangerous, Caius assured you that you would always have full support of your mates. You never doubted that. You knew they would help you to grow accustomed to your new life.

Caius loved every variety of art you could name. When he asked you for permission to sculpt you, you were so surprised that you made a strange sound. He said that, of course, he wasn't going to overstep your boundaries and you yourself would choose some beautiful casual attire, so he could portray your beauty in sculpture. All you had to do was dress once as he asked and stand in the right pose. He remembered every detail of your posture, including your facial expressions. Often, he would sculpt you, while you would talk about insignificant things also learning how to sculpt...well, things that didn't resemble anything. Yet, you wanted to be as good as he was.

You were in your nineteenth week, when he invited you for a long painting session. His studio was huge and consisted of nothing but breathtaking works of art. You were decorating some random sculpture that you had never seen before. Caius also loved contemporary art, so you could go wild. Taking classes with him was better, than any therapy. You could smear paint on everything - the canvas, the sculptures, yourself, and even him, because he was usually in a good mood and you could enjoy it. He never showed you even a trace of anger, and you, fooling around with him like that, were genuinely pleased and happy.

When you finished, the room looked rather bad, not to mention the clothes or your hair. Caius would never have appeared that way to the guards, let alone on trial, but with you it was different.

“I wanted to show you something,” he said, wiping the paint off your cheek.

You took his hand. Caius, like Marcus, did not invade your personal zone, unless you specifically gave permission. However, carnality and touch were important to him, and so, once you were more comfortable in his presence, he liked to show you affection by stroking your cheek or your back, and intertwining his fingers with yours, when you held hands. You didn't mind his cold skin – by now you were accustomed to it, as three of them had similar body temperature. You were the hottest here. Literally.

You walked slowly to another room.

“I didn't tell you, but I finished craving” he said, and you could hear the excitement in his voice. You smiled at him. That was the main reason why you had agreed to have yourself sculpted in the first place. You wanted to get close to him on a level, which was inaccessible to do in any other way.

“Before you show me, will you tell me as to where you even got the idea of carving me?” you asked, amused. Caius was much taller than you, you had to slightly lift your head to look him straight in the eye.

At first, he smiled archly, but immediately his smile softened. He pulled at the material that covered the sculpture, so that it fell to the floor. You were simply speechless. The woman, who stood opposite to you was over four metres tall. The sculpture was made of marble and the woman looked, as if she was an actual person. There was something elusive about her. Her face, thoughtful yet serene, her hair flowing freely over her shoulders onto her back. She was clad in a fine fabric that flowed in waves down to her bare feet. She looked nothing like you and yet, you two looked exactly alike.

You had no idea that you started crying. The woman was beautiful. You could feel the power and dignity emanating from her, and on the other hand, she seemed to you as if... fragile and ephemeral. Caius had captured in this sculpture all the feelings you had been feeling, without even knowing it.

You felt his hand on your cheek, his fingers gently wiping away your tears along with some paint, which remained on your face.

“I thought I would like you to see yourself through my eyes. Exactly as I see you – without a single flaw, yet with all your imperfections. I don't want you to be unable to look at yourself, because of what this animal did to you. I don't see it. I only see you, [Y/N]. The real you. Beautiful and fragile, yet powerful, without inhibitions or scruples. Capable of anything.”

The words were trapped in your throat. You wanted to say something, but you were sure, that as soon as you were going to open your mouth, uncontrollable sob would come out. You looked first at Caius, then at the woman carved in marble, then back at Caius. He only smiled gently.

“Who we are – we decide that ourselves. No one else does. To me, you are beautiful. Pure. Never think otherwise, dolcezza.”

Without warning, you hugged him so hard, that it hurt. You forgot that his skin was different from yours. He embraced you without hesitation, even though you were all covered in paint. You wept, cuddling into his chest, as he soothingly stroked your hair and back.

Once you had slightly calmed down, you looked up at him. His blond hair looked like a halo over his head. He amazed you in every sense of the word.

“Thank you. Thank you for letting me see this,” you whispered poignantly, and then went straight back to hugging him.

“There's nothing to thank you for, my lovely [Y/N]. I would like you to accept yourself as you are. Because you are truly magnificent.”

 *

 The only person you talked straightforward about pregnancy was Aro. Was it because of his gift? Most likely, and you simply felt you could trust him. From the moment you first found yourself in his arms, the bond between you two only strengthened. Also, a memorable visit from the doctor was also significant, and then, together with him, you went through the documents that Bella had sent you. To say he was furious, was an understatement. Yes, Aro saw your memories, but the reports were written from a third-person perspective. And the other evening was really awful – you couldn't stop crying because you couldn't block out the flow of memories.

You were close with each other; close enough for you to try to overcome your insecurities, to talk about how you really felt about this whole situation you found yourself in. It was far from easy, but Aro was a really patient specimen. In the course of these talks, you discussed practically everything. You knew that every scenario had to be worked out and discussed, because there were many different options of the outcome.

Despite many conversations, you were still unsure about keeping the baby. You didn't know if you wanted to, if you would be able to raise it and then tell it that it would forcibly have to become a vampire. After the doctor's appointment, things did not get any easier for you. You heard the heart and knew that the child was not to blame for its father’s actions. You were raped, but this child had nothing to do with it.

So you waited. You waited for a miracle to decide for you or for the baby to move when you were thinking of having it removed. It’d be a sign not to do it. However, nothing of the sort was happening and fate was not deciding for you. Aro convinced you that, even if you decided to have an abortion, there was nothing wrong about it. No one would blame you for it. The only person to blame here, was the monster who raped you.

You hadn't decided what you would do about the pregnancy, but you and Aro knew what would happen, if something went wrong. For your mates, it was your health and life that came first. Aro assured you of that a thousand times over. Because of this, if anything went wrong with the birth or if there were any complications, you were to be changed immediately. Also because of this, Aro talked to you about all aspects of your transformation. He was the one who introduced you to what transformation actually looks like. He didn't scare you with the pain you were about to go through, but only gave you the facts. Facts that you needed to know.

When you weren't talking about such serious matters, Aro also loved to spend time talking to you, but about different topics. He seemed to know all your thoughts, but you were still able to surprise him. He explained to you, that the human mind was more disordered and chaotic, than vampire one and that he certainly didn't see everything. Your brain chose the memories, often associated with strong feelings and emotions, which were meant to be remembered. You were joyful about this, because you could talk endlessly and he kept finding out something new about you. And you kept finding something new about him. You knew from the first moment that he was extraordinary, and the more you talked, the more you became certain about it.

Besides, Aro adored dancing. You were not convinced about this form of activity, but it was the intimacy of this act that convinced you. In his arms, no one was able to hurt you. You felt safe and, after many attempts, quite confident in your movements. He literally beamed, being able to teach you to dance and to be so close to you. You found nothing in his eyes but the infinite adoration he had for you. When you found out the reason behind this, your heart almost broke with sorrow and compassion.

“I must confess something to you, cara mia,” he whispered, holding you securely in his arms. It was evening, you had long since been prepared for sleep. He found your long nightgown to his liking, when he came to check how you were doing and if you needed anything. You rested your head on his shoulder. There was no music, he was the one giving the rhythm to your movements, yet it was the most wonderful dance you had yet had the chance to dance with him.

“Do tell, please,” you said, trying not to lose the rhythm. You were tired, as throughout the day you sorted through the things Bella sent you from Forks. In addition, you worked with Marcus to sell your house, because you were, after all, a little concerned about what hands your family home would pass into.

“I have been bound over the centuries to both men and women. My ex-wife, Sulpicia, whom you know and, to the best of my knowledge, whom I permitted to leave, was my faithful companion, basically from the beginning of my immortality. However, until now, I did not know what it meant to have a true mate.”

He tilted you gently, wishing to look into your eyes. You continued to sway to a non-existent rhythm, completely oblivious to your surroundings. You furrowed your brows.

“Are you serious?” you asked in a whisper, not wanting to ruin the moment. The light emanating from the candles, illuminated half of his face. He smiled, and you were unable to take your eyes off his red irises.

“Yes, my dear. I have waited over three thousand years for you. I must tell you, that I could wait another three millennia, only to see your beautiful face,” he said affectionately, holding you tighter against him to stroke your flushed cheek with his fingers.

Your eyes welled up with tears and he slowly bent down and kissed your forehead.

“That's enough for today, cara mia. You must rest well. Caius has something planned for tomorrow, but he didn't want to reveal what, under any circumstances,” he said amused, giggling under his breath. You loved when Aro was in a good mood, because then you were in a good mood too. Before he walked you to bed, he wiped away your tear. You squeezed his hand in yours, then climbed onto the bed. He covered you carefully with a duvet and stroked your hair.

“I'm glad I came here,” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “I never want to leave you,” you said with force. He smiled softly at you and stroked your hair once more.

“We will always be by your side, [Y/N]. Good night, cara.”

His voice so soft and tuneful that as soon as he snuffed out the candles, you drifted off to sleep in an instant.

 *

 Apart from the fact that almost everything was going great and your mental state was in constant improvement, your relationship with Bella had severely worsened. In the beginning you talked every evening. She still couldn't understand why you were selling the house and why you wouldn't, at least, want to visit Forks. After a while, you got fed up with explaining it to her. There were an awful lot of things she wasn't happy about and she didn't hide it. She kept criticising the Volturi without knowing them and having no idea, what they were actually doing.

You loved her like a sister, but because of that, she could annoy you exactly like one. Because of her pinching remarks and your lack of patience, you called each other less and less. You didn't want to keep getting annoyed and you were tired of explaining things to her. Besides, you didn't like that she didn't say a single good word about your mates. You at least tried to accept Edward. Suddenly, what he did to her was all forgotten and you couldn't understand it. You didn't know, what was happening to your sister and your stay in Italy didn’t exactly make things better. You still hoped that once you saw each other after the transformation, you would be able to explain it all to one another. You didn't want to lose Bella, the last person you considered family.

So you talked less and less or not at all, and when you did, you avoided difficult and sensitive topics. It was not like with Bella at all and it made you anxious. You were at ease with each other, almost always, and you didn’t get why she was so bitter and hateful towards your knew, chosen life. Especially, because partially your presence right then, in the trial chamber, was the reason for her to be alive at all.

Shortly after Caius presented you with your sculpted self, you were to spend the whole day together, the four of you. These were the days you loved the most. Although you cherished the time spent with each of your mates separately, the presence of all three put you in an ecstatic mood. You usually spent your afternoons like this – there were still a lot of things to do and solve, and a lot of trials to carry out.

Being in Volterra for so long, you learned a lot about the existing laws and how to enforce them. You knew that kings were not flawless, but it was logical to you that keeping the entire vampire world in line, required some sacrifices. Some greater than the other ones.

You usually sat down in the study, where you had ended the very first day, at a round table. You listened to the discussions and arguments, but also just spent time with your mates. You often sat on Aro's lap or tried to calm Caius down, when he became too agitated.

You were extremely excited since the morning, because they promised you a whole day outside. It wasn't often that all three of them wanted to spend time with you in the gardens, so you couldn't restrain your exhilaration. However, there were also days, or rather moments, when, under any circumstances, you could not leave your room. Such a moment was to occur today, after breakfast. You slept for a long time, almost until eleven o'clock. When you ate your breakfast, it was Renata who informed you that it was time to eat. Of course, you knew what it was about.

The only situation, in which you could not leave your chamber, was at lunchtime. Not yours, though, but the lunchtime of all the vampires, who inhabited the castle. For your own safety, usually for about two hours, you were not to leave and to occupy yourself with whatever you wanted. The only two hours, in which Renata or anyone else was not around you. Not many people knew about your stay in the castle and because of this, the kings decided that Renata should eat with the rest of the company.

You did not consider it strange in the slightest. Of course, you tried not to think about the fact that people would die, but you knew that they were chosen at random. Which meant that they could just as well have been run over by a car or they could have died in a fire. You did not think about it. You were just enjoying your two hours of freedom. Sometimes you sunbathed on the balcony, prepared your outfit or just played on the computer. These were little things that still reminded you of being human.

This week, when Renata told you that she would be gone for a while, you were already enjoying a long soak in the bathtub. The home spa was one of the favourite things you and your mum liked to do together. You poured hot water into the tub, applied a mask that you had prepared yourself with a few ingredients and relaxed.

Since you had no idea when, you were no longer afraid to look in the mirror. Sure, your body shape was far from ideal, but at least you weren’t terrified to look. You weren’t terrified to acknowledge that, yes, your body was raped, but you were recovering from it. And that you started to think that your body didn’t cause any of this.

After some time you spent in the bathtub, you felt a little dizzy. It wasn’t exactly a good sign, so you figured it’d be wise to get out of the tub. When you rinsed yourself off with clean water, you stood up, and that was the moment of terror. The room immediately started spinning, like you were on roundabout for the last forty minutes. You felt nauseous, but there was nothing near you to which you could cling to. You managed to step out of the tub, on the marble step, and then you felt it. Pain, excruciating pain, suffocation. Streams of blood went down your legs and before you fell onto the ground, you could only see white marble floor all covered in sanguineous blood.

[foli-vora]

more than words, pt.4

A/N: Hello, angels! I hope you’re all safe and healthy! Next instalment is here, and I’m very excited for what’s coming. I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you enjoy, too! Love to you all! (I hope I haven’t forgotten to tag anyone but if I did, I’m really sorry!)

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x f!reader, best friend!Benny Miller x f!reader

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF, swearing, brief alcohol mention, bit of spice (reminder: this fic is 18+), Frankie being the tease he is

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.5 / pt.6

+

Your lips were still tingling when you woke the next morning, eyes fluttering open and a smile creeping onto your face as the events from last night replay through your mind for the millionth time. Frankie had been on your mind the entire drive home, the tenderness of his first kiss kicking your heart into double time, and the pure unrestrained passion of the kiss that followed hitting a far lot lower.

Was it possible for a first date to go as well as it did? There wasn’t a single moment in your time spent with Frankie that had you unsure about his character or intentions.

Benny had actually done it. He had found you a guy you really liked. Is Hell freezing over?

You reach for your phone as you slip from bed, stretching leisurely as you make your way to the kitchen, and finding Benny’s contact before pressing ‘call’. It takes a few rings, until his drawl finally greets you through the phone.

“Did you puke?” is his immediate answer and you roll your eyes, tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder as you putter around your kitchen putting some breakfast together.

“No, you asshole.”

He laughs. “He’s that whipped, he’d probably thank you.”

What? What does that mean? Has Frankie spoken to Benny? Did he talk about last night? What did he say? Did he think it went as well as you did? Shit. Calm down. You try to steady your suddenly quickening pulse, a pleasant flutter consuming your stomach as you attempt to sound casual.

“Oh? Has he said something?”

Benny’s voice is sly, teasing – he knows you far too well. “Maybe.”

“What do you mean ‘maybe’?”

“Maybe I’m sitting next to him right now. And maybe he’s sitting here blushin’ like a little –” Benny grunts suddenly, seemingly in pain, and the phone crackles as he shifts on the other end, “don’t fuckin’ kick me. Anyway, Fish wants to know what you’re wearing.”

You hear him then, raspy voice piping up in the background with an aghast ‘What?! No–’ and then there’s more scuffling, more grunts of pain, and Benny’s snort of laughter.

“What are you even doing up?” Benny redirects his attention to you after a few minutes of bickering with Frankie, words muffled as he talks around whatever food he has rolling around his mouth. He had noted the early time when your face had flashed over his screen, wondering what could’ve possibly gotten you up and out of bed so early on a day off.

You shrug lightly, even though he couldn’t see it, and prepare your pancake batter. “Just couldn’t sleep in.”

He’s quiet, chewing thoughtfully and then asking softly, “You okay?”

“Yeah – I’m fine, just bored sitting at home. For some reason, I wanted to see what you were up to and if you wanted to hang out, but you’re busy so never mind.”

Benny laughs, “Aw, you missin’ me, angel?” he teases.

“Ugh, I take it back. I’d rather sit here in silence and stare at my wall.”

You can hear him laughing even as you pull your phone away and press the red button, shaking your head and smiling to yourself.

-

A week passes by before you even know it, work taking over much of your week, and much to your delight, Frankie had eagerly organised another night to meet up. You had talked all week of course – a phone call every evening once Mena had been put down for the night, texts here and there throughout the day, and when he had asked if you were free at all over the weekend, you had agreed without a second thought.

Eagerness buzzes through your system the entire day of the date and the drive to the restaurant, a much welcome change from the anxiety riddled one before. It was a breath of fresh air.

Frankie was waiting for you, as he said he would, leaning against the wall of the restaurant and a smile immediately widening his features when his eyes find you.

This time there was no hesitation, no voice in the back of your mind wondering how to tackle the situation. As soon as you saw him – you couldn’t help yourself – you were in his arms and giving him a soft kiss in greeting. Pleasantly surprised, he smiles against your lips, arms winding around your waist, and the electric tingles that rocket up from your palm when his rough hand gently takes yours has your heart going wild in your chest.

It’s dinner instead of drinks this time, and the two of you squeeze yourselves into one side of the leather booths, instead of sitting opposite each other. You order quickly, and sip at your beer while you listen to Frankie talk about his week, the conversation soon moving in all sorts of directions as you wait for your food.

“How could you not?” You cry at one point, slapping a hand on the table and watching his shoulders shake as he laughs, stomach twisting at the pleasant sound of it.  “The universe is huge – like, huge. We are not alone.” You say ominously, and he laughs harder, head hitting the back of the booth.

“Where’s the proof?”

“What?”

“The proof! If it’s so big and we’re not the only ones here, where is everyone?”

“It’s a cover up.” You sniff indifferently, sipping your drink and fighting the twitches threatening to turn your pursed lips into a smile. “Oh my god, you were in the military – are you in on it?”

He’s struggling to breathe, cheeks aching under the grin stretching his features and stomach starting to cramp. “In on what?”

“That’s it! You’re part of the cover up!”

“Yeah, you’ve got me. I was actually a part of a crew chasing away UFO’s.”

No longer able to keep it in, you erupt into a fit of violent giggles, melting over the table top and letting the laughter shake your frame. Frankie watches you fondly, affection flooding his system and causing his insides to warm pleasantly.

He was still trying to work out how he was here, with a beautiful woman, having great conversations, fun conversations, and laughing more than he had in… shit… a long time. It was refreshing and, if he were completely honest with himself, slightly nerve-wracking. Nothing ever stays so perfect, and that thought had him ensuring he was enjoying every second he could with you before you inevitably realised you were incredibly out of his league and went looking elsewhere.

But… how could you ever? When you peak up at him, you can’t help but study the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way his dimples deepen in his cheek, and you honestly couldn’t imagine anywhere else in the world you’d rather be. It was… scary. You’d only known him a couple of weeks, and you were feeling like this?

The night melts away before you both even know it happens and soon, you’re snatching up the bill before he can move, and walking out onto the street, Frankie’s arm slung around your shoulders and keeping you pressed close up to his side as a sharp late evening breeze sweeps through you both.

“You’re not serious.”

“I am.”

“Chickens?”

“I’m sorry, but have you ever been chased by a rooster? Those things are fucking vicious, Frankie.”

He grins, shaking his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay, well what about you?”

“Heights.”

What?

You frown, “But you’re a pilot?”

“I can handle heights if I can control the situation. Flying is easy – I know what to do when I need to do it. It’s when something’s out of my control – falling off a cliff and shit. It’s just… a long way down.” He’s quiet, obviously dwelling on something before he’s shaking his head and smiling, “Do you have a favourite book?”

The short walk to your car takes longer with the leisurely pace you both had unconsciously set, wanting to milk the remaining minutes of the date as much as you could before having to part ways.

“Thank you for dinner.” He spins you into his arms and you laugh quietly, smiling.

“You’re welcome.”

Silence falls over you both as you regard the other.

Frankie… your voice is so quiet, the soft whisper of it dances in his ears, igniting a fire through his veins. He unconsciously presses himself closer, lost in the way your lashes flutter when you look at him. You raise a hand, fingers trailing softly against his jaw and he turns his face into your touch, chasing the feeling of your warm fingertips as they glide up and around his neck.

“Kiss me?”

He smiles, enjoying the way your face scrunches slightly as he nuzzles his nose against yours, “Say please,” he mutters playfully, grin widening when you breathe a quiet giggle.

“Please kiss me, Francisco.”

Oh shit.

You don’t miss the way his face slackens for a brief moment, eyes widening and breath seemingly getting caught in his throat. He swallows, the flicker of a flame that had been burning lowly in his stomach suddenly blazes red hot and then he’s moving, hands cupping your cheeks and claiming your mouth with an intensity that had your knees buckling the second his lips touched yours.

You melt instantly, unable to stop the small whimper that bubbles from your mouth as his tongue traces teasingly along your lip. You open your mouth automatically, tongue immediately sliding greedily along his. His mouth was hot, rough against yours, and the grunt he lets out when your fingers dig into the dark curls at the nape of his neck has a delicious heat shooting to your core, your hips rolling against his.

Fuck. Did you just grind on him?

The sudden stab of panic at potentially going too far is quickly extinguished when his hands fly to your hips, pulling you impossibly closer and keeping you tight up against him while his fingers dig hungrily into your flesh.

The sudden blaring of a car alarm has you both jumping apart and a mile high, Frankie’s hands tightening on you instinctively, and it’s not until you look around that you discover it’s your car making that God awful noise that is ripping your ear drums apart.

“Shit,” you fumble for your keys, quickly pressing the button while Frankie chuckles into the skin of your throat, hands softly rubbing up and down along your waist to calm you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault.” He grins, not at all remorseful for causing such a big disturbance. “It was probably for the best – any longer and we might’ve been arrested for indecent exposure.” The words are growled playfully against your skin, but you can’t help thinking he wasn’t far from the truth. You laugh, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso and placing a final kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Drive safe,” you say as he begins to pull back, and he smiles warmly at you.

“You too.”

You slip into your car, watch him disappear down the street and sigh dreamily, body working on auto-pilot for the drive home while your head remains firmly in the clouds. You could only hope you had actually somewhat paid attention to the road and didn’t miss any stop signs or red lights.

Your phone goes off in your hand when you eventually walk through the door to your apartment, and you read the text as you shrug off your jacket. Your eyes have to read it back and forth a few times before the words actually sink in, and then you’re holding it to your chest, delicately cradling the device while you rest heavily on your door, heat flushing along your cheeks.

I’ve thought about whether or not I should say this the entire drive home, but fuck it... miss you already.

Well, fuck.

-

Delivering a sharp little karate chop to the remaining flat cushion on your couch to fluff it, you place it with the others and then neaten the edges of the blanket hanging over the back, casting one final glance around your apartment and trying to imagine seeing it through a visitor’s eyes.

Clean.

Really clean.

Frankie was picking you up for a ‘mystery date’, which meant – naturally – you had spent the entire day scrubbing every surface in your apartment until it looked like you semi-had your life together. Did you inhale more bleach than what is probably considered healthy? Most definitely. Do you regret it? No. Will your apartment ever be this clean again? Also probably a no.

Checking the time, you’re startled to see how long you had spent fluffing fucking pillows and chant curses as you run to your room, kicking the clothes you rip off under your bed to deal with later and quickly pulling on the outfit it had definitely not taken you two hours to decide on. Your eyes dart to the alarm clock next to your bed when a knock on the door echoes throughout your small home.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, he’s on time –

God, why can’t he just show up half an hour late like the others? You immediately regret giving him the code to your building… that could’ve bought you an extra few minutes.

Stupid perfect face with his stupid perfect punctuality –

You open the door with a grin, hoping your forehead doesn’t look as sweaty as it feels, face softening when you find Frankie standing on the other side with a little potted houseplant cradled in his palms. He sees your eyes fall to it curiously and holds it out to you, your fingers brushing his when you carefully take it from his hands.

“You said flowers make you sad when they die, so…” he shrugs lightly, a gentle smile curling his lips.

Oh.

Emotion claws at your throat as your fingers trace the patterned leaves softly. Not only had he paid attention and actually listened to you during your many conversations, he had gone out of his way to find you a gift you could nurture, one that wouldn’t inevitably end up in the trash after a week or two of blossoming.

You swallow the sudden lump in your throat, clearing your throat quietly before glancing up at him, shy and overwhelmed by the wave of adoration that inundates you.

“Thank you, Frankie. I love it.”

And he knows you really do. He can hear it in your voice, sees the gratitude shining in your eyes. He follows you as you turn back into your apartment, eyes following you fondly as you walk around, eyeing potential places to situate your new addition.

“I think he looks good there.” You say, turning to confirm his approval over your shoulder after you situate it in the middle of your small dining table. He smiles, nodding his support and watching you turn back to look at the plant, taking his own little minute to admire you and the way you look bathed in the bright afternoon sun shining through your windows.

Fuck. He was captivated, completely infatuated by someone he had only known, what – three weeks? He should be nervous, should be alarmed that such strong feelings had developed so quickly, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than joy – hope. Maybe this could be it, you and him. Endgame.

Fuck. Don’t get ahead of yourself.

His arms open automatically when you saunter up to him, enveloping you into a warm embrace while you press an appreciative kiss to his cheek.

“So, this mystery date,” you say, pulling back to gaze up at him while your hands wrap loosely around his neck, “will I need a jacket?”

“Yes,” he nods, grinning when your brows pinch in contemplation. “You’ll never guess so don’t hurt you head trying.” Lips press against your forehead and you press back into the soft touch, heart jumping at the tender gesture.

-

“Minigolf?” You question, looking up at the colourful entrance.

“Is that okay? If not, we can go somewhere else –”

He���s nervous – you can hear it in his voice.

Easing his anxiety, you shake your head and grin, “It’s perfect.”

You watch him relax, a pleased smile curling his lips, and then your hand is in his as he leads you through the gate and to the reception area to pay. The both of you meander outside once collecting your clubs and balls, and you feel childishly giddy at all the bright colours and fun obstacles set throughout, bouncing slightly in excitement as you walk to the first hole.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” He asks around a grin, head tilting as he watches you set up and take your position.

“This isn’t my first time,” you hum, shifting on your feet and lining up your shot. Swinging the golf club gently, you watch the neon orange ball bounce along the walls and finish up teeteringly on the edge of the cup before falling in with a satisfying clunk.

“Oh, by the way,” you spin, smirking, “I kick ass at minigolf.”

“Good,” he returns your smirk, gently nudging you out the way, “I don’t have to take it easy on you, then.”

What had started out as fun, quickly becomes competitive, and with competition comes foul play. Frankie had pinched your sides when you went to hit your ball, your body jolting with a yelp of surprise as he exploited your ticklish spots. In return, you knocked his golf club when he swung, and giggled wildly when he immediately turned on you, wrapping you in a tight hold and raining scratchy kisses along your throat in punishment.

The afternoon melts into evening with mix of steady conversation, laughter and hidden kisses behind obstacles – Frankie stealing the breath right from your lungs when he crowds you against the side of the colourfully decorated windmill and claims your mouth, the crowds of other couples and families wandering around the course oblivious to the two of you hidden in the shadows.

If he was trying to work you up, it was working. He had to know what he was doing to you, had to know how all-consuming his presence was when he swept you up into kiss after kiss. You were so wrapped up in the touches he would caress you with, so focused on the feel of his moustache as it tickled the skin above your lip, that you were completely unaware you were losing… until you peaked at the card Frankie kept sticking out of his back pocket (totally not because you were checking out his ass) and the wave of vicious competitiveness shadows the overwhelming desire to jump him right in the middle of the course on the artificial turf.

Payback.

The next course, you took your short as normal, squirming as you feel Frankie come to stand right behind you. Focus –

Breathe, he’s not there. Breathe, he’s not there. Breathe –

Goosebumps rise along your arms in waves, the skin on the back of your neck prickling as he ghosts his curved nose down the column of your throat, your head tilting ever so slightly to allow him more access.

Fuck. No, breathe –

You swing the club, satisfaction rolling through you when the ball ends up in the cup perfectly in one shot. He’s slightly shocked, incredibly impressed, and presses a soft kiss of praise just below your ear. You watch as he takes your place, dropping his ball on the ground and readying his posture.

God, you need to stop looking at him like that.

The golf club feels loose in his grip, palms clammy from the fiery gaze locked onto the back of his neck as he hunches over for his turn. He feels a presence behind him but doesn’t pay any mind to it, and instead pays all of his attention to lining up the ball, mentally calculating what sort of angle he’d need to get it through the tunnel and around the winding corners to the cup a short dip below.

The cool puff of air suddenly blowing past and tickling his ear makes him fumble, the ball missing the tunnel and bouncing off of the sides and rolling back to his feet. He sighs, eyeing you over his shoulder with a playful frown as you blink innocently back at him.

He lines up again, tensing when warm hands work their way under his jacket, resting softly on his hips. He could feel the heat of your palms through his t-shirt and clears his throat, shifting on his feet and trying to focus back on the ball. You nuzzle your nose into his neck, teeth nipping lightly at his skin when he swings the golf club softly. Another miss. Frankie watches the ball return again, stopping at his feet with a light knock to his shoe.

“Yeah, that’s right, Morales – I’m onto you.” Your soft voice rings in his ear and he grins, knocking the ball into position with his club. “You may play dirty… but I do, too – try again.”

The words settle hotly in his stomach.

“You think you can win?”

“I know I can.” You all but purr into his ear.

He blocks you out then, focusing everything he has on getting that stupid fucking pink ball through the tunnel. He’s got it this time. This time –

Fingers dive under his shirt and his stomach jumps as they trace along his hot skin, slowly following along the waistband of his jeans teasingly. Fire shoots through his veins, muscles clenching under the feather light touches, your nails softly dragging along his skin.

Fucking Christ –

“Are you just going to stand here all day, Francisco?” You question slyly, voice soft and mocking. At your teasing, both verbal and physical, he hits the ball a little harder than intended and it bounces off the turf entirely and into the bushes lining the course.

You’re smug as you watch it disappear into the shrubs, “I’d say that’s forfeit.”

You go to step away when he starts to turn, but a hand grabs your wrist and keeps you flush against him, your insides somersaulting as his dark eyes burn through you.

“You’re trouble.” He accuses gruffly, heart still hammering in his chest while his skin burns from the ghost of your touches.

“You love it.”

He does.

Fuck, he does. Too much.

“Come on, loser,” you murmur, lips leaving a whisper of a kiss against his. “I’m hungry.” And with that, you turn, winking cheekily at him from over your shoulder, and he watches you walk away with a dumbfounded expression before he follows along behind you, jeans feeling a little tighter than what they did before.

-

The tension is stifling in the truck on the drive home. You feel your heart beating in your ears, the anticipation bubbling in your chest growing with every mile Frankie travels closer to your apartment. You were aching. Physically in fucking pain, and rubbing your thighs together was doing nothing to soothe the insistent throbbing from your core.

All that playful teasing, the touches and the rough kisses during the day, had caught up, and it was destroying you.

Frankie had briefly mentioned Mena staying with his parents for the night, and it had kickstarted your thoughts into overdrive. Was that a hint? Was he giving you a green light to potentially take this further? Was he saying he would be open to staying over? Was he asking to?

You were worried you were thinking on it too much, maybe getting the wrong idea and he was just expressing how nice it would be to have a night all to himself, but then his hand landed on your thigh and squeezed, and any inklings of doubt all but vanished.

He watches you from the corner of his eye, trying to focus on the road and not the way you keep shifting in your seat. He feels every time you squeeze your thighs together, feels the muscles move under his hand, and he physically has to stop himself from making a noise every time you do. Do you have any idea what you’re doing to him?

Your building comes into view and then he’s pulling up outside, removing his hand from your thigh and throwing the truck into park, letting it idle while you study the structure and get your thoughts together. Swallowing the sudden spike of nerves that settle in your stomach, you look to Frankie and find him already watching you quietly.

For a moment, you say nothing, and he doesn’t bother filling the silence. He lets you have all the time you need while you decide on your next move. Not that you need much time – you know exactly what you want.

“Do you want to come up?” You ask quietly, watching his eyes darken as they flicker to your building before returning to you. You watch his Adams apple bob as he swallows, and then he’s nodding, turning the keys in the ignition and the truck cuts out beneath you.

+

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[jjungkooksthighs]

Claws of Carnality | jjk (8)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

Genre: smut, fluff and angst, abo/werewolf!au, soulmate!au, fantasy!au 

Rating: 18+ / nsfw

Word Count: 7.8k  we really can’t ever have a short chapter around here smh

Summary: Alacrity augments you in the aftermath of your alpha’s perfervid performance and in his subsequent summoning of you, neither of you can stave off sin from overwhelming you in the desire for each other that consumingly captures the wolf and his mate. 

Warnings: alpha!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub! reader, omega!reader, mentions of breeding/ruts/heats, mentions of blood, slick and pre-ejaculatory production, scenting, dirty talk (lbr I love that shit), praising, fingering (just a smidge), grinding, fellatio (cock sucking), cock worship (just a bit), breast/nipple play, nipping, sucking, begging, muscle kink, scratching, cum eating, manhandling, cursing, wet and messy sex (kind of), size kink, hair pulling, impreg kink, dual orgasms 

A/N: So, this chapter took a bit longer to get out due to graduate applications, schoolwork and inclement weather that took out my Wi-Fi, lol. It also went through a series of deletions because I felt self-conscious after the original posting of chapter seven, but eventually, it came along to what I had pictured in my mind despite the rework to the style of this chapter that I hoped to make easier for you guys to read with lessened uses of terminology/vocabulary. Also, I’m not the best at writing this type of smut, so please go easy on me! 

Oh, and the gif that you guys see at the top? That’s Jungkook’s outfit inspiration for what he wears at the end of the chapter. :)

As always, please share with me your thoughts about my work! There is no greater reward to writing than seeing what your readers think of what you spent so much time to create. I am eager to know what you guys make of my story, so please don’t hesitate to let me know what your thoughts are because I love to hear it!

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7 Part 9

Meekness muddies you in the solid substratum of it that settles over your throat as you try to keep from liquifying under your alpha’s scorching gaze that leaves no part of you unscoured by its high heat.

 It muffles you to a mutter as you struggle to swallow what little spittle has not dried up in your mouth at the parching sight of him as you manage, “Alpha….what are you doing?”

 There had been something else you’d wanted to ask him, but in the roots that tangle thoughts around him, your perception is twisted by your peripheral field that extends only for the half nude man that looks fixedly at you.

 Jungkook smirks before cocking his head to the side in quick movement in a display of avid amusement before he utters, “Is it not obvious to you, pretty? I’m stripping and shedding myself of the clothing I wore to entice you. It has served its purpose,” He turns to pierce you with a dark glare as he leans back on the wooden table behind him, the burled brawn of his arms bearing his weight as he leans back on them while his supple skin shines with the sweat that sluices it as he taunts, “I no longer require them here. Others may look at me, but no one but you, my mate, shall ever be able to touch me.”

 You whine a that, your silver irises interspersed with golden streaks shimmering over him as they sliver down from perfectly plump lips that have spoken such sweet nothings to you and bedecked you in his brand as your hand absentmindedly rises to lay over the purpled petal he’d made ascend amidst the garden of you in his efforts to tend to his terrace.

 You trail your visage over to the Adam’s apple that juts proudly out from the column of his neck, an irrational urge sprouting to life within you in the need to nip it for daring to sweetly stick out like the ripest berry from the sturdiest stem you’ve ever laid your eyes upon.  

 You lick at your dried lips that are not slicked against the tongue that tries to wet them from the arid desert of your mouth that your alpha radiates away from you as your sight slides lower until it settles over the bodacious bough of his chest that branches brashly with muscles along every inch of him, your fingers twitching in remembrance of how strong and sinewy he’d been under your digits as you’d brushed them against him.

 When your sight drops along the thatched thighs that the fabric strains stiffly against in its stretch over them, a picturesque memory of what you’d done atop of one of them paints colorfully itself in your mind.

 Its vibrant vividity has you biting your tongue to keep from releasing another sound as your cheeks turn themselves red like the rose you are to him while your alpha grins at the vivacious view of you, wholly intrigued by the spectacle that is you as you struggle against the slump that soon has you falling back against the door as you whimper in the damning distance between you and your alpha that takes him away from you far too much.

 “Jungkook,” you imploringly plead.

 Your alpha chuckles at that to push off the vanity behind him with no effort at all before he strides over to the chaise lounge made from the leather of aged cattle against the timbered wall. He is slow in the languid lowering of himself over it, his back resting against the arm of the piece of furniture as he husks, “Bring yourself over to me, pretty,” his voice deepens before one hand rises, his fingers curling inward in a come-hither motion that has your heart stuttering in the excitement electrifying it as he orders, “Come and sit on your alpha’s lap, my omega, and tell to me all that you thought of my performance that was devoted solely to you.”

 In the scarlet moonlight crimson as blood that drips like wax from a never burning candle’s wick from the glass window behind him, the color sinfully stains him in a dangerous sheen of a garnet glow that emanates effervescently off him in everything that promises impurity as his eyes glint goadingly at you from around the blackened wisps of his locks that have fallen around them.

 As a creature that has only known chastity’s constraining shackles your whole life in your wait for your mate, you very much want them to be crushed under your alpha’s heel, for he has already caused them to crack amidst the sweet pleasure he’s delivered to you in the forest and in the sanctity of your own chambers.

 As if caught in his unyielding undercurrent, your body moves under his watery sway that sweeps you forth. Perhaps it is the omega in you that is utterly unable to resist temptation taking its form in Jungkook. Maybe it is the inescapably inexorable draw to him that paws at you to be near to him lest you incur its fangs if he is absent and away from you. 

Conceivably, it could be both that have you pad forward without pause as he watches you with interest while you move, his golden irises never drifting from your own as a wave of heat falls over them and, in your undertow he’s surrounded you in, it washes over you, too.

 Once you stand before him, he makes a sound of appreciation as he appraises you attentively.

 One hand sinks under the furs that hide you from him, each finger suggestively sidling up along your waist while the other palm joins it on the other side as you close your eyes while your arms wrap around his muscled shoulders, his calloused and strong digits dipping deliciously over your soft skin as he hums, “Mmm, that’s a good girl. I like it when you’re obedient like this. You’re so receptive to me already, pretty,” His hands sensuously slide downward, his fingers streaming outward like a consumingly surrounding sea that washes you over in his thrilling touch while he splays his legs out before, all in one fluid motion, he pulls you forward until you fall like the tide over his hips as each of your legs pools on either side of him only for him to smirk as he amusedly muses, “So responsive to me, too, my mate. You do not resist me at all. You’re so willing to submit, aren’t you, sweetling?”

 Not prepared for the sudden shift in position, you gasp in surprise, your eyes shooting open to be submerged by his golden irises beginning to seep with the licentious lust that dooms you in their dusky dimness. They beckon you to lose yourself in his deep depths, one hand diving under the thin terrain of your gown only for him to trickle the phalanges of his fingers along the soft skin of your leg. He’s unrushed and unhurried as his digits drip their warmth over you to flow over your ankle through his ascent upward, his digits oozing along aqueously while his fingers spread outward like a tributary that must get its fill as he drags them ceaselessly along.

 Your breath wells up in your lungs in the anticipation that swims there and when his hand torturously trails over your thigh only to brutishly, brutally halt his ministrations, that’s when you whine, your arms tightening around him as you lean forward to lay your forehead against his own as you whisper, “Please, alpha.”

 Your alpha croons, his index finger running in circles along the innermost part of your leg that borders along the sex that has not stopped crying for him since his performance as he says, “I know what you want, pretty. Do you want your alpha to take care of you again like I did in the forest? It would be so easy. I could make you fall apart so quickly with how readily you receive me, my mate,” His digit dribbles impossibly closer to where you want him most, a shaky breath falling from your lips as one of your own hands veers down over his chiseled chest, catching on all the defined muscles that ripple in its wake before it settles over his heart that beats briskly in the same time as your own that instantly stammers when his finger stops once more as you whimper out while your alpha’s eyes narrow, “Much as I wish to give to you what I know you desire, you’re going to answer to me before I do anything else, pretty. You have such a pretty voice. Use it for me, my mate.”

 Your irises slip below to his lips that move so very precariously with how close you are to them and an urge soaks you to feel them, your other hand dowsing him in your touch as you draggle it along the back of his nape and up along his neck until your fingers tentatively trace the outline of them. You etch his rounder and fuller lower lip into your memory as you draw your digit around the upper one, entirely entranced by the cupid’s bow that crowns the middle of his top lip and the way that a long, pink tongue is swift to poke out of the mouth he parts for you in your exploration of him.

 He laves it first along the bottom one to carefully coat it in saliva that gleams against the soft firelight that licks at your alpha from the corner of the chamber and when he dares to lap the muscle along the underside of your finger at the same time the palm on your thigh trails forbiddingly forth to cup your womanhood, you mewl.

 The lewd sight stirs within you a hunger for that which only your alpha can sate.

 It is as if his tongue are hands are the keys that unlocks the cage of words in your mind that he’d been the one to padlock there as you breathe, “I would very much like that, but you’ve been so good to me. You made me feel so wonderful in the forest and even dedicated that stunning performance to me that made me fall impossibly harder for you, my alpha,” you breathily profess while you pigment the column of his neck with the stain of your lips as you lightly graze your teeth along the notch you’d been staring at before to whisper, “You were so mesmerizing up on that stage while you danced for me. I’ve never seen a creature as enchanting as you were,” the hand that you’d left over his heart begins its journey anew as you veer toward the bulge in his pants that he unabashedly displays to you while you offer, “You’ve done so many other things that have exhibited your sentiments for me and I want to give you something in return. Please, let me show to you how special you make me feel, Jungkook.”

 Your hand has barely even lain itself over his member that hardens at your very words before there’s a growl, your alpha’s hand extricating itself from between your legs to encircle around your dainty wrist as he roughly pulls it up and between the two of you before he warns, “Do not toy with me, my omega. Once you start, you’re going to finish, yeah? I can only control myself so much with you looking so goddamn beautiful for me while you’re on my lap like this.”

 You lick your lips to whisper, “I have no intentions of playing with you, Jungkook. I only wish to please my alpha if he will allow me to indulge in him like I’ve wanted to for so very long,”  you fully seat yourself on him, your clothed sex rubbing against him as you grind atop him while the hand on your waist bunches the fabric around it to draw it up and away from you to ease your access as your head dips down so that you can imbibe yourself of his taste after being denied it in the woodland, “I’m so parched, alpha…please, help me. You’re the only one that can.”

 The moment your mouth ghosts over the sternocleidomastoid muscle along his neck and your breath warmly whisks itself over him, he releases you only for his hand to tangle in your hair as he rasps, “That’s right, my mate. No one but me can quench you like I can. You want to satisfy me, pretty?” His hips impetuously impulse upward against your own as he hisses, “Do it, then. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

 Needing no further coaxing, you press your lips against him in a chaste, short osculation that earns a rumble from his throat in a sound that has you smiling against him as you string a line of wet kisses over him, your hips rolling atop the tented bulge that hardens inconceivably more under you as you moan at the delicious friction that cascades through you with every eddy of your hips along his member that is all too fast to try to escape his trousers.

 Raptness for you floods his irises and it swells around you until you take one of his hands to delve under the furs that conceal you from him, his head falling back when you swirl your sex over him while you slide his fingers over the exposed sliver of skin between your breasts, his digits diving under the thin material of your bodice to palm at your tit as you sigh in satisfaction at the way his long, slender fingers sinfully swathe you in their hold.

 Your alpha husks, “Gods, these tits were fucking made for this. They were made for me.”

 “Yes, alpha…all for you,” you breathe as he kneads at your tit while you continue your expedition along the mountainous terrain of his chest and when he brings his lip between his teeth at the sight of your hooded gaze as you stare hungrily back at him, he watches the way that your irises flick toward the peaked summit of the same nipple that had taunted you from under the enclosure of the sheer shirt he’d worn to agonizingly afflict you earlier.

 When you glance back at his eyes for permission, they flash dangerously at you and with a swivel of your hips that has him momentarily shutting his eyes, you seize your opportunity and enclose your mouth around the dark nipple to suckle at him only to earn a guttural groan from him as his back bows inward while his fingers dig into your hip at the same time that the digits in your hair curl inward to pull tightly as he utters, “Fuck, pretty. That feels amazing. Keep going, my omega. You’re making your alpha feel so good.”

 Your wolf preens at the praise, your tongue daubing his tender areola in kittenish licks as you suction the sensitive skin between your lips, your other hand pawing at his pectoral while his thumb flitters over your own nipple only to have you quicken your pace as he strums you like an instrument atop of him.

 You soon shift your attention to the other neglected bud, your lips enveloping him as he grunts with the way that you scuff your nails down his swollen peak while you twirl your tongue along the abandoned areola.

 Distracted by your ministrations to his chest, your alpha does notice the way your hand seeps down his chest until it bears down over the fully hardened member to have him buck from underneath you. The movement jostles you atop him and, accidently, you nip at him only for him to pinch your own nipple between his fingers in punishment as you whimper.

 Through it all, your hips do not cease their undulations over him as they continue to rotate rapturously around him, the pleasure too sweetly succulent as it glazes over you the longer that you lather yourself on him.

 You are steadfast in your venturous voyage to discover more of your alpha as you frisk your tongue along the underside of his pec before continuing your descent toward the steep sierra that rises tall between his legs.

 You hadn’t realized you’d been staring at his now engorged, edematous buds, but the fingers in your hair constrict around you to condense your vision only to golden irises that flare fiercely at you when he rumbles out, “Up here, pretty. I want to see your eyes while you use your mouth on me.”  

 “Yes, alpha,” you obediently reply as you press a hot, open-mouthed kiss over each of the eight abdominal muscles that comprise an impressive slew of sinew over the skin of his belly.

 With the choker clasped around your neck, you can only go so far before it unforgivingly cuts into you and with one last sweep of your tongue along the ridges between his abs, you rise to plant your hands on his chest as he rolls your nipple expertly between two fingers, a moan tumbling from your lips as you grind with fervor over him.

 Wanting him to feel just as pleasured as you are, you lay your palm flat over him, your fingers furling around him to give him a small squeeze that earns a groan him that is drawn out when you lean forward to drag your lips along the underside of his jaw that he presents to you under the light, soft brush of your mouth over him.

 One of his hands finds itself under your chin, two fingers grasping your jaw as he pulls your chin up while he husks, “You really do want to please me, don’t you, pretty? If you want me that bad,” he sits up with you still sat on his lap, his eyes scintillating lethally as the pad of his thumb slides up to nudge along your lip, your saliva dripping and coating the digit that he uses to penetrate the warmth of your mouth that you close around him as he growls, “Get on your knees and take this cock into your mouth. Drink from me until you’re so full of me that you won’t wish for anything else to feed that thirsting desire within you.”

 Under his command that sidles swelteringly through golden irises from under his locks, you shakily exhale when he extracts his finger from your mouth, each of you watching the way your spittle clasps itself to him before breaking off and falling between you.

 You whine at the loss of him, but you know that you won’t leave you empty for long and the thought energetically bounds through you like a sylph springing through the air.

 He easily lifts you from his lap and sets you on the carpeted floor, your limbs far too weak to support your weight without him as he helps you to fold your legs under you so that you sit on your heels like he’d ordered you to do.

 A lagoon of fabric from your skirts profoundly puddles and spills outward around you as you stare at the bloated bulge in his trousers, your salivary glands secreting spit as your mouth waters at the prospect of what you’re about to do.

 Your fingers fiddle with the linen lining the end of your alpha’s trousers, however, as diffidence coils around your ribs.

 You have never pleasured a man with your mouth before, for it is a rule that such intimate practices are not to be engaged in unless a wolf has presented as either an alpha, omega or beta.

 At your hesitance that is made palpable in the way that you chew at your lip, your alpha softens if only for a moment as he hunches over you, both hands laying along the sides of your jaw as his tone lightens when he asks, “What is it, pretty? Are you having second thoughts? It’s alright if you are. I would never have you do anything you didn’t want to do.”

 His support only makes you want him more, for there is care that he’s imbued innately in each word that flowers within you under his reaching radiance.

 His irises search your own beseechingly and you place your own palm atop of his as your cheeks redden with embarrassment that shyly quiets you to a whisper as you tentatively confess, “It’s just…it’s just that I’ve, well…I’ve never done this before. I want to satisfy you, alpha, but I just don’t know if I’ll be good at it or if I’ll even make you feel half as fulfilled as you did for me in the forest.”

 Your alpha only smirks at that, his expression darkening damningly as understanding shadows him while he utters, “All the better for me, my omega,” He turns his hand to capture your fingers between his own as your digits intertwine with his own as he drifts your joined hands toward his weeping member, “The only cock you will learn to fuck with that little mouth of yours will be mine. You shall only know my knot on your tongue. I alone will gladly teach and instruct you on how to pleasure your mate, pretty.”

 Familiar fire ignites in you as his promises plunder your being with anticipation. He strews your hand just above where his tip leaks through the linen before, with a scalding glance, one of his palms is crossed over the other and without pause, he trails them seductively slow up his thigh in a path that will drive him right where he needs it.

 You watch, entirely engrossed, as fingers are rubbed against his member, a heaved breath forcing itself through ajar lips that follow with a clenched jaw as he rasps, “The first thing you would want to do is get me hard like this, pretty. I don’t have to be for you to take me in your mouth, but it’s better if you, ah-“ you spare no time in replacing his hands with one of your own, your fingers stroking him through the fabric as he groans, “-Yes, pretty, just like that. Shit. Take my cock out now. The pleasure is increased tenfold when there are no barriers that bar you from me.”

 You obey, your breath hitching at his considerably large size once again as your alpha makes quick work of his soiled trousers.

 Your ardent awaitment of him is not long when he sheds the last piece of clothing he’d had only for your eyes to widen as large as stars at the sight that greets you.

Your eyes widen in wonderment as you quietly gasp, “Alpha, it’s… it’s enormous. You’re magnificent, but,” you gulp as you stare, “do you think that will fit?”

Your alpha caresses your jaw as he coos, “It will fit if I wish it to. You were designed and created for me by the moon above,  pretty. I know you can take me.” 

 Nestled between thick thighs, his sizeable shaft arcs upward like a crescent moon with constellated veins spanning through the sky of his skin, the bulbous head framing it all where it hovers over his abdominals like a planet that you’d very much like to explore yet have never seen before.

 “Still, how are you even larger than before, Jungkook?” You blurt, your fingers dipping down to gingerly pad over him in your fascination of his behemoth dimensions as he bites down on his tongue to keep from bucking underneath you, for he does not want to startle you.

 Between his legs, you stare at him with the eyes of a doe rather than a wolf from your inexperience that tucks your tail between your legs and he is intent on ensuring that nothing will deter you from venturing out into the field where he waits anxiously for you.

 “This is what you do to me, pretty. You make me like this, for it is my need for you that makes me so much bigger to you than before. I have been denied of you for far too long, my omega,” his fingers enclose around your wrist as fervid fervor fills his irises before he orders, “Put your little hands around me, pretty. You can be as gentle, or as rough, as you wish.”

 You do as he says, instantly wrapping your hands around him and then blinking innocently at him as you tilt your head to the side in question.

 The moment your touch titillates him, his brows pull together in concentration, for your fingers are far smaller and more delicate than his own in their timidity that holds them back.

 Despite it all, you are a sight that is far too beautiful to behold as he encourages, “That’s it, my omega. Now, open wide and take me.”

 Tentatively, you part your lips as each of your hands bring his member down to your gaping maw. The closer it gets to your mouth, the more colossal it towers over you. All it takes for you to gulp and push down the lump of apprehension in your throat is one glance up at your alpha, whose irises simmer over your own with the heat of the sun as he draws his lip between his teeth while he devours the vivid visage of you between his legs.

 There’s so much you want to say to him, but right now, there’s only one thing that can possibly show to him what you feel for him.

 When he finally breaches you and his heavy girth falls over your tongue, it is warm like the rest of him and engorged with the blood that rushes to it as you try to nestle him between your lips the best that you can.

 He tastes of a musky tanginess that is mixed with a salty, briny tint. You find that it is not an unpleasant flavor.

 Your walls contract around nothing when you watch his face contort to one born of pleasure in an accidental brush of your tongue along the underside of his shaft in your attempts to gorge yourself of more of him. Like this, his base is still grasped by each hand as he sinks his fingers into your tresses to urge you forward impossibly more.

 Like this, he’s resplendently ravishing as he succumbs to the damned delirium that you are solely and wholly the bringer of.

 You’re not sure if the human body was created for this purpose, but you do know that your alpha’s pleasure is the only thing that matters to you now. There’s a feral rawness in him that has slept in him and you want to be the one to awaken it. You’ve always been a stubborn creature and you aren’t about to let unseeded unsurety stop you now when you can see the glimpses of the satisfaction you could grant him like he has for you.

 There’s something so gratifying in knowing that you could be the source of his pleasure and so, you experimentally swirl your tongue around his tip that sobs with precum as you allow him to plunge himself even deeper inside your mouth.

 Your alpha’s head is thrown back at that as he groans, “Yeah, fuck, pretty. Gods, I knew you could do this. So fucking perfect me, my omega… my mate.”

 Inch by impossible inch, your alpha penetrates you inconceivably as you lick at him like a cat starved of its water for days. The hand in your hair starts to push and pull you to and fro and you watch, captured by captivation, as your alpha’s breaths begin to become uneven and heave into pants as he stares heatedly at you.

 “Use your hands, pretty. Touch me.” Your alpha husks and you obey, each of your hands constringing around what you can’t fit inside your mouth as you stroke him up and down, your fingers catching along the veins that you take care to caress as you squeeze in a vice-like grip his member that throbs under you.

 Your alpha gives a grunt of approval, his back arching as his eyes screw shut under your ministrations as his lips part in pleasure.

 Your confidence grows the longer that you lave at him, unsure of what you are doing but nonetheless spurred into action as your alpha clutches your hair between his fingers to secure you to him as you fleetingly flick your wet muscle against his sensitive glans while your alpha laments.

 As you stare up at him, he is carnality’s manifestation in the way that the scarlet light erotically colors him in passion’s dangerous hue, his sculpted brows scrunched together under wild curls that curve voluptuously along his angular face.

 Lost in him, you make the mistake of scraping your teeth against him only to earn a sharp hiss from him as his fingers tighten in your locks.

 Breathless, your alpha’s eyes open while he grimaces, “Loosen your jaw, pretty girl. That hurts, yeah? Try not to graze me with those teeth of yours. I know you can do that, can’t you, sweetling?”

 You pull off him with an apology already on your lips, “I’m sorry, alpha. I didn’t mean to harm you. I’ll be better for you, I promise.”

 Your alpha coos, “You already are the best for me, pretty,” he brushes his knuckles under your mandible, “There is no one I would do this with beyond you. You’re mine and you will learn, my mate. I do not expect you to be perfect when this is your first time. You’ve been doing so well already, my omega. All you need to do is relax for me.”

 Your wolf bays at his praise, affection for him blooming inside you as his words water you.

 You heed your alpha’s command, your maw slackening as you guide him back between your lips. This time, you swallow him as far back as you can possibly guzzle him, your mouth flooded of all that is him as you whirl your tongue lasciviously around him.

 Your fingers compress around his base while one hand, with renewed spirit, seeps over his balls as you fondle them, your alpha’s eyes rolling to the back of his head as you claw away at the last of his control to cause him to buck into your mouth, his cock driving itself even deeper down your throat until it buries itself so far back that it blocks your airway, hot tears quick to burn at the edges of your eyes as he hits your pharynx and blocks your airway.

 “Fuck, don’t stop. Suck me, my mate.” Your alpha drawls out, the efforts of speaking laboriously difficult in the breaths that strain to dislodge themselves and leave him.

 It is a sensation you have never felt before to have your mouth so thoroughly filled and though it is not the most comfortable, the pleasure lies not in you, but rather within your mate and in what you are swiftly reducing him to. You would do this a thousand times if it meant wracking your alpha to this.

 Ever the dutiful omega, you follow his decree. You hollow your cheeks as you bob your head along his length while you suckle him enthusiastically, inhaling through your nose in spite of the breath that eludes you throat.

 “Gods, yeah, pretty. Right there, right there. Fuck me, you’re going to drive me crazy, ” Your alpha rasps as you unsuccessfully try to silence the gag that erupts in the back of your mouth while his fingers knead into your hair to tug at the roots as he thrusts into your mouth to plummet lecherously lower.

 Spit pools in every crevice of your mouth until you’re overflowing with it and, as he rams himself into you, all you can do is bear it as your slobber falls like a fountain from your lips in his jostling movements that shake your vision. His eyes have become hazed with craving craze for you and you relish in the way he struggles for breath just as you are in your damning decimation of him.

 Transfixed by the way your eyelids flutter as his dick disappears into the wet warmth of your mouth that he could spend forever in, he husks, “You’re so hot like this with my cock between your lips, pretty. You like this, don’t you? You like sucking your alpha’s dick?” He asks while he watches in interest the way that your saliva escapes the cushion of your lips that pillow him inside you, his thumb brushing it away and back over your lips.

 You moan to let him know that yes, you really do enjoy seeing the way you’re wrecking him through your own devices. Right now, this is about him and seeing his pleasure is far more satisfying than anything you could have imagined. Knowing that you are the one that is affecting him in this way is inexorably exhilarating. It makes you feel powerful. Now, it is you that holds the key to his raptured raptness.

  When your alpha drags his digit along your lower lip, you hum in agreement and the vibrations shoot straight into his member as he arches his back, his head falling even farther as you work him in your mouth while he utters, “Shit, of course you do. You really are perfect for me,” one hand grabs your own to pull you down to the neglected testicles that ache for you, your fingers closing around one delicately to give him a gentle squeeze as he bites at his lip while he growls, “I’m not going to last much longer, pretty. Gods, use that tongue of yours like you did out there when you told those bastards that you’re mine. Show me you meant it, my mate. Let me see how badly you want to please me.”

 His words send a wave of blazing heat through you, tenacious tenacity sweltering within you at the realization that he’d been watching from the shadows and had seen and heard everything that had occurred between you and the two wolves that so stupidly believed they would win you from your soulmate.

 You swallow fatally around him, your muscle swishing and swiveling around him as you unhinge your jaw to completely take him in his entirety when he tugs you down on him. His facial expression detorts to one of unadulterated, unbridled bliss as his own tongue lolls to either side of his parted lips, his eyes closing yet again while the sounds of slurping drip from your lips with the spittle that dribbles below them.

 Your alpha hums, “Mmm, fuck, you’re so good with that little mouth. You fuck my cock with it better than any bitch in this pack ever could.”

 Your cheeks running red at that, you fondle his balls with one hand, your other running your nails down his chest to leave reddened marks of your own over his skin all while you greedily ingurgitate him while he stuffs himself inside you with another dangerous undulation of his hips.

 When your fingers roll his balls like dice between them, that has him keening as he pants, “I’m close, pretty. I’m going to fucking fill you up so much that the taste of me will fucking linger in that hungry mouth of yours for days. You want that, yeah?”

 You nod instantly, your stomach grumbling your salivary glands producing more of their offspring at just the thought of it as you suction him with eager earnestness betwixt your lips.

By now, he’s swelling and throbbing between your lips, his end near by the way his testicles palpitate as you titillate him.

 Your alpha grunts before he rumbles out, “Gods, you are such a ravenous little girl for me. I bet that cunt of yours is just as starved to receive me, isn’t it, little one? Fuck, I could knot you, my mate. I could breed you so well. Do you want my pups, pretty? Do you want me to stuff you to the brim with my fucking seed so you have no choice but to get pregnant and bear my children?”

 You moan at the thought of it, the ostentatious oscillations strafing over his dick as your head bounces back and forth while you quaff him to have him grunt.

 There’s an urge to bask in his simmering gaze as you give him over to his end and, with another sinful swill of him within your mouth as you grope his gonads, you splutter amidst the very large cock currently nestled between your lips, “I want it a-all, Jungkook, but p-please…I w-wish,” you slabber him with your saliva as your tongue twists itself around him, “I wish for y-you to look upon me when you finish in my m-mouth.”

 Each word trickles from you under the labored breaths you inhale through your nose and you hope that they are not burned by the fire that blazes in the corner of the chamber before they can reach him.

 Your voice submerges and dives after him through the sea of exaltation that you have deluged him into and, in your final act to bring him back up for the air of his ecstasy, his eyelids flicker up to reveal golden irises that singe you in their voracious torridity.

 You whine at the way the smoke of desire has smoldered him, his long tongue poking against his cheek as his head tilts back while he consumes you in his sights that leave you squirming along the floor as he husks, “You want me to see who has made me feel so fucking good, yeah? Very well, pretty. Watch me cum just for you.”

 If the dangerous twirl of your tongue along his slit while your hand that had been attached to his testicles slides sinfully down to rub along his perineum isn’t enough to have him come undone, it’s the way that your eyes now gleam with the glazing of the yen of yearning that every blood vessel burns of yours is coated for him with as you fervently fix him inside your mouth.

 You’re the picture of innocence in the white of your dress that curtains you in its angelic wing, but the cock between your lips that you ardently take between them damns you in sin’s tendrils that Jungkook captures you with.

 It is his utter undoing when your cheeks fatally concave in their incurvation as you suck him with tightly compressed pressure inside your wet warmth while you run your tongue along his base at the same time he draws you forward so that your nose brushes the thicket of pubic hairs as you blink with innocent doe-eyes up at him as he howls, “Ah, fuck, I’m there, pretty. I’m cumming because of what you did to me.”

 Euphoria pours itself through him like a cascading waterfall that does douse every part of him that it washes over as his knot swells inside you, his irises never abandoning you through his climax as his seed bursts out of him and spurts across every corner of your mouth.

 You flatten your tongue to catch every bit of him as he feeds you his nectarous ambrosia. His thickened essence spreads and spills over your hot muscle and down your throat deliciously viscous as he makes good on his promise and nourishes your parched body with his sinful sustenance.

 He spouts and streams his taint into you as endlessly as a river and when you think you might just overflow with it, that’s when he extricates himself from you, one hand rising so that his thumb caresses your swollen and abused lips as he coos, “Such a good girl for me. You did so well for your first time, sweetling,” his digit swipes at the stray bead of cum that leaks from you only to sweep his finger over your tongue and you close your mouth around him, moaning out at his tasteful tinge as his eyes flash darkly at you, “That’s it, pretty. Drink every last drop. We wouldn’t want you to thirst for me again while you watch me fight the other alphas for you, now would we?”

 He pulls his digit from you with a ‘pop’ as you lick your lips as you breathe, “No, alpha. That would be a travesty, truly.”

 Your alpha chuckles at that as he gathers you from the floor and when your scent wafts wantonly under his nostrils, he smirks wolfishly, “My, my, my… you really can’t get enough of me, can you?”

 It takes you a second to realize, but when he settles you on his lap once more and your thighs skim each other in the movement, your eyes widen as you draw in a short, small breath.

 Your alpha only arches a sculpted brow, amusement coloring his tone as he teases, “What? Surprised that you got off by humping my leg like the animal that you are while you sucked my cock, pretty?”

 So focused on delivering your alpha over to his end, you’d hardly paid attention to the way your legs had clamped around one of his own as you rutted against him with fervor. You really couldn’t help it with the sight of sin that had commanded your capture under it.

 You whine, your irises dipping low as you trace circles along his bare chest as embarrassment tints your cheeks red, “Jungkook, I didn’t mean to. You just… you did this. It’s your fault.”

 Your alpha laughs at that, one hand settling along your jaw to coax your visage back up at him while your wolf hounds at you to obey as he rumbles, “I shall gladly take the blame then, beautiful. You know, the fact that you came from giving to me the best head that I’ve ever had,” the fingers of his other palm snake under the folds of your dress to drag through the deposit of wetness that now drapes your legs as he brings the digits to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick his finger clean of you as he groans at the flavor of you while his irises dilate, “That’s hot as fuck.”

 Your blush is as red as a ruby as you whimper at that and your alpha grins as his stray hand lands on your hip to trail up and down your back in soothing circular motions to reassure you. His mouth opens to say something else, but before he can, there’s a loud series of knocks against the wooden door interrupts the two of you amidst your illicit indecencies.

 “This is the last call for all alphas that might remain here. The Offering is about to begin,” says the muffled voice of an elder that likely had been sent to collect any lingering wolves that were still in the den.

 You whine loudly as your arms intertwine around your alpha’s neck, your baser being demanding you keep close to your alpha as he softens, the fingers on your cheek splaying out so that his digits caress you as utters, “Come, pretty. I must ready myself for what is to come and I require my mate’s aid to assist me in dressing, for you’ve temporarily robbed me of my faculties after what you’ve just done to me.”

 Your wolf preens at that as your hand lifts as you lay your palm over his own while you implore, “Must we go so soon? I do not wish to leave your side.”

 Your alpha stands and he’s careful to lift you up and off of him even while your arms tighten around his neck as he rumbles, “After this is all over, you will be free to be with me whenever, wherever and however you desire, my mate. You know the rules,” he moves back and you follow him in your embrace until his thighs hit the back of the vanity where his clothes sit on the abandoned chair, “I must duel anyone that tries to contest me for you, sweetling. It simply is the way of things and I will not hesitate to engage in battle with any wolf that attempts to take what is rightfully mine. You are everything to me and I will make certain that everyone knows it. Do you understand, pretty?”

  You nod as you nuzzle the sensitive gland along his neck as a purr trembles from your throat while you scent him, “I understand, Jungkook. I only fear the bloody destruction you’ll leave in your wake for any fools that think they can tear you away from me.”

 “That shall be their mistake, pretty,” he sighs in satisfaction as he tilts his head back to grant access as you paint him with the stroke of your lips over the tender skin along his clavicle, “I will not lose you.”

 Tenet blazes in his eyes and conviction radiates his words that emit with the sun’s might their fierceness as they fall over you to set your own affection alight within you as you lace your lips along his jaw in a stripe of kisses that you thread there as you manage between them, “There is not a shred of doubt in my mind that you will be the champion amongst them all. However it may be, you have already won me, alpha.”

 With that, you embellish him with the cloth he will wear in his battles for you. You help him delicately pull the garment over his head that shades him in the color of soot. It is akin to a sheet of thin charcoal that dyes him in its film of darkness that, like his earlier shirt, is grainy and dusts him lightly in its hue, his sun soaked skin shining brilliantly from beneath it. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of it as you tuck it into cotton trousers that are black as night and your alpha smirks when the smell of your arousal drips down to collect itself amidst the pool of your taint yet again as he watches with interest the way that you chew at your lip while you tug the white blazer across bulging arms that catch at the heavier material as you drag it over him.

 He makes certain to playfully provoke you by wrapping an arm around your waist only to schlep you forward, your hands planting themselves against his broad, strong chest as he asks, “Are you ready to watch me show everyone that I and I alone am the only wolf that is deserving of you as his mate?”

 You nudge at the edge of his collarbone to catchily collect as much of his riveting redolence as you can before you sow another row of kisses along his skin only to pull away and admit, “Always.”

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Bruises

Request: @whormotional​ asked: “hi i have recently become obsessed with your writing! youre like the best luke writing on this app i swear. could you do one where the female reader gets kidnapped on a case and tortured and just like luke and the team saving her and luke being there for her later that night pls”

Word count: 5.4k

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau​ , @alvezstan​​ , @lcvischmitt​​ , @ogmilkis​​ , @goldenalvez​​ , @ssa-morgan​​ ,  @akimagies​, @zhangyixingxing1​​ , @pinkdiamond1016​​ , @yourwonderbelle​​, @rachelxwayne​ , @sc4rletw1tch​ , @ellvswriting

Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, gun tw, blood mention

A/N: love angsty requests thank youuu. hope youu enjoy!!

You wake up to the taste of blood in your mouth.  Your breath was ragged and shallow as you shook yourself out of a deep sleep. It was the first sense you were able to regain, but before you could force your eyes open, you felt the  pulsing pain coming from the back of your head.  It shot down your neck and around to the front of your forehead, making you wince.  

Images from the dream you had been having were still clear in your mind.  You had dreamt of Luke.  Maybe you dreamt about him because he occupied most of your thoughts, or maybe it was because his face had been the last thing you saw before blacking out.  You remembered seeing his brown eyes- usually warm and inviting, turn wide with worry as they didn’t quite meet your gaze.  It was like he was staring at something behind you. 

You saw him raise his gun and aim it slightly to your left.  You had been just about to ask him what was wrong before he opened his mouth to warn you.  His words were inaudible, though, as the blow that suddenly hit the back of your head had ensnared all of your senses.  The look on his face was what lingered in your mind now.  You tried desperately to memorize all of his features- the lines around his eyes and the way his hairline curved around his face.  You squeezed your eyes shut even harder, thinking of his tan skin and stubble beard. You really didn’t want to open your eyes, because you knew that wherever you were and whatever had happened to you, wasn’t good. 

…

When Luke comes to, he’s propped up against a cold wall and there are voices around him.  A headache was pulsing behind his eyes as he finally cracked his eyelids, eyelashes fluttering on his first few attempts. 

The blurry faces of Emily and Tara slowly start to come into focus as he wakes up.  He sees Tara sigh a breath of relief when her gaze meets his own. 

“Thank God,” she exhales quietly. 

Blood.  There was blood running down his head. And there was a bloodstained brick lying close to him. 

“Luke,” Emily’s voice is louder.  “What happened?”

“He came out of nowhere-” Luke states, he raises his hand to find the spot on his forehead that throbbed.  When Luke pulls away, there’s blood on his fingers.  Suddenly, images of the incident reentered his mind.  “I tried to shoot- but I didn’t want to hit her-”

“Where is Y/N?” Emily asks calmly. 

Just the mere mention of your name makes Luke sit up straighter.  The sudden movement makes his head wobbly, but he ignores it.

“Woah, take it easy,” Emily instructs. She puts her hand out to steady him. 

Luke falls back against the wall.  “She’s not here?” he asks, panic and fear flooding his insides. 

Instead of a yes or a no, Emily states, “We’ll find her.”

...

When you do finally open your eyes, you find that you're sitting in the corner of a dingy room, arms and legs bound to the worn chair.  The room reminded you of a basement, concrete walls with pipes and ducts running along the ceiling between the hanging lightbulbs that were much too bright without covers.  

You blink your eyes a few times, trying to make everything stop blurring together, but it seems impossible. 

You gasp, chest constructing at the sharp pain suddenly shooting up your left side. You breathe through your nose, trying to will down the panic and fear that’s engulfed you.  Each breath pulled in the strong presence of mold and mildew, making you want to gag.    

There’s a man in the corner of the room fiddling with something.  His back was turned to you until he realized you were conscious again.  He begins approaching slowly.  You recognize his wild hair and narrow eyes almost instantly.  

From the information Garcia had gathered online earlier, the man’s name was Greg Atwood. And he was your Unsub.   

You and the rest of the team had been called to Seattle over a week ago- after the third body showed up.  Once Seattle PD made the connection between the victims, it was clear their problem was severe enough for reinforcements.  You had worked the case just like any other- analyzing victimology, creating a geographic profile, combing the crime scenes. It became glaringly obvious that you were dealing with a professional, someone who killed efficiently and knew how to clean up their mess.  And when Emily sent you and Luke to interview the witness who found the latest body, neither one of you had any idea you were about to walk into the arms of the apparent killer himself. But the profile the team had established, fit.  

When Atwood opens his mouth to speak, his evil smile makes you cringe.  “You’re awake,” is all he states.  His voice is filled with venom. 

You jerk, thrashing against the restraints that bind you. The man steps forward, his finger trailing along the barrel of his gun. He smiles confidently, but it’s his eyes that burn into your brain.  

“What do you want from me?” you ask.  You knew all too well how these interactions went, but you were desperate to stall. 

The man looks at you for a long moment before inhaling deeply.  But he doesn’t speak. 

You blink again, trying to rack your brain and remember the profile.  What would buy you some time?

You dig your teeth into the inside of your cheek- a habit Luke had always given you shit for.  You briefly wonder if you’d ever get to hear him lecture you about it again. 

You tug at the restraints again, testing it.  But there’s no give. 

“What do you want?” you try again.  

Atwood takes another step closer, creepy smile still in place.  “I want to know how you found me,” he says simply. 

You bite your lip.  He takes your hesitation as an invitation to talk more.  “You see,” his voice trails. “I was very careful.  I cleaned up my mess, I didn’t leave behind a single trace of DNA.”

“We didn’t find you with DNA, we found you with our profile.” He didn’t need to know you and Luke had originally thought he was a witness. 

His smirk returns.  “Right,” he says, like he doesn’t quite believe it.  He turns his back to you and walks back towards the corner of the room he originally came from.  He hoists something up, you can’t quite tell what it is until he turns around with it in his hands.  It’s a tripod, and attached at the top is a camera. 

Your chest feels tight again- you didn’t like where any of this was going. 

The tripod is placed about six feet in front of you.  Atwood adjusts the angle a bit before pressing a button.  A light flashes red before he turns to look at you again.  His smile has faded. 

“Tell me where she is,” he orders. 

Your eyes widen, but you don’t speak. 

He waits, only a moment, before saying it again.  “Tell me where I can find Emily Prentiss.”

You clench your jaw.  

“I know you know where she is.  She is your Unit Chief after all, isn’t she?”

You ignore his question.  “Is my team seeing this?” you ask, nodding your head towards the camera.  

His silence makes you assume that’s a yes.  “You know- we profiled that you’d be extremely intelligent,” you say.  “But if you think I’d rat out my Chief or anyone on my team, we must’ve gotten that part wrong.”  

Your response gets you backhanded- hard across the face.  Your head whips back, but you try to shake it off quickly. 

You taste copper in your mouth again as you raise your head up.  Your hair has fallen in your face, but you don’t make any effort to move it. 

Atwood is looking at you, expression calculating.  “If you want to get out of here alive,” he says, “you’re going to tell me where she is.  It's up to you how hard you want to make this on yourself.”  When you stay silent, he continues.  “You see, it’s not you I really want.  I don’t want to kill you.  Just like I didn’t want to kill the agent you were with.  You’re collateral damage to me, it means nothing.”

His words make you freeze in place.  

Just like I didn’t want to kill the agent you were with. 

The sentence seeps into your skin like poison. 

Luke. 

Your face is blank and your mind can’t process the entirety of what he’s said, before he proceeds. 

“You see, it’s Prentiss I want.  Tell me where she is and this will all be over.”

“You killed-” your voice is shaky as you try to comprehend the words Atwood has just spoken to you.  “Y-you killed him?”

His smirk brings bile up in your throat. 

He was lying, you say to yourself.  Luke was fine, he was lying.  “No,” you whisper, your eyes burning with unshed tears. “No-”

Atwood sighs, pretending to be sympathetic. “Like I said- I didn’t want to do it. But he got in my way. Just like you’re getting in my way right now.” 

His words are muffled in your own head as your mind races to make sense of it all. Luke- Luke was your purpose and your happiness and your reason.  Luke was everything.  

“Tell me where she is.” Atwood presses. 

If he was telling the truth, and Luke really was dead- then what did it matter if you died too? “Go fuck yourself,” you spit, trying not to show him the brokenness he’d just caused. 

Atwood sighs, “I was hoping we could do this the easy way.” 

He approaches you, rolling up his sleeve as he walks.  You noticed a brass ring on his finger.  

You wonder what the rest of the team was thinking and if they could even see you right now.  You knew that they’d be looking for you, no matter what.  They’d probably even encourage you to give up Emily’s information- even though none of them would.  But it probably didn’t make whatever was about to happen to you easier for them to watch. 

“This doesn’t end until you tell me where she is,” Atwood sneers.  It’s his final warning.  You look straight at the camera and try to broadcast a message to the team.  In case they were watching, you wanted them to know you could handle this.  You offer the slightest smile, one they’d probably only catch if they rewound the tape, you’re reassuring them that you’d be fine.  

…

When the video stream first comes through, it makes Penelope gasp.  She was sleep deprived after being transported to Seattle.  Her job was to comb through the Unsub’s computer, and to hopefully find a hint as to where he might have taken you. 

At first, she’s surprised, and disturbed by the distressed looking girl tied to the chair.  Penelope has seen her fair share of gruesome images and videos in her days with the Bureau, but she never could seem to get used to it. 

But when the girl lifts her head and reveals a face Penelope recognizes immediately, she’s horrified.  Your eyes are tired, and every breath looks ragged. 

“Emily!” she calls out, “Guys!”  

Just then, a man comes into the frame, his voice is muffled and quiet. Before Penelope can turn the volume up to hear what he’s said, he raises his hand and strikes you across the face.

“No!” Penelope cries, squeezing her eyes shut.  Only when she feels a warm hand fall on her shoulder does she dare to open them. 

It’s Emily, and in her trail is JJ and Rossi. 

“What’s going on?” Emily asks, concerned. 

“It’s Y/N-” Garcia has tears running down her face. 

“Oh my God,” JJ breathes, she covers her mouth with her hands. 

“She’s hurt,” Garcia whimpers. 

Emily inhales sharply. 

“Is this live? Can you trace it?” Rossi asks, leaning in. 

Garcia nods, the rapid clicks of her keyboard answering for her. 

“Where’s Luke?” JJ asks, turning her head. “He can’t see this-”

“See what?” Luke’s voice rings through the room, making everyone turn their heads.  He’s standing in the doorframe with an ice pack held firmly to his head.  After being attacked, he’d refused to go to the hospital.  Not until you were home safe, he had said.  No one tried to argue it.  

They stand speechless, unsure of what to say to Luke. 

“See what?” he repeats.  But that’s when he sees the screen. 

“Who is that?” he asks, voice cracking. He leans so that he can see past Garcia. The panic on his face told them that he already knew. 

“We’re going to find her,” Emily says calmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

Suddenly, there’s a man’s voice speaking from the video.  It’s Atwood. 

“All I need is a location,” he says calmly.  “Tell me where I can find Emily Prentiss.”

Everyone in the room inhales sharply. Luke grits his teeth as he sees you pick up your head.  Your face looks scared. “I don’t know,” you say weakly. 

Atwood sighs.  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With that, Garcia cries out again as he sucker punches you in the jaw.  Just as you’re wincing from the first impact, you take another hit, a punch to the gut that leaves you heaving and breathless.  

Luke is wild, gritting his teeth.  “I’m gonna bash this guy’s head in myself,” he roars, turning away.  

Just then, the rest of the team filters in the room.  “What’s going on?” Reid asks.  He’s holding an evidence bag in his gloved hands. 

“The motherfucker’s recording it- he’s live streaming it,” Luke exclaims.  He’s gripping his hair frantically. 

“Anything, Garcia?” Rossi asks. 

Her typing has become more frantic as she desperately tries to secure a location.  

The assault against you continues, hit after hit, mostly centered on your left side.  It’s clear that you were doing your best to zone out.

Luke has started watching again, despite Matt trying to pull him away.  

You keep your mouth shut, even when your side aches so bad you think he’s broken one of your ribs.  When Atwood finally stops hitting you, your face is hot and bruised and bloody.

It makes Luke want to be sick. 

Just then, a pinging noise comes from Garcia’s computer and the room goes dead silent. 

After a moment, she turns to Emily questioningly. “I have an address,” she states. 

“What’s wrong?” Tara asks, picking up on the confusion in her tone. 

“What’re we waiting for?” Luke roars.  “Let’s go-”

“It just feels- wrong,” Garcia says, unable to put her finger on it. “Why would an Unsub as intelligent as him not block his streaming location?”

“Do you think it’s a trap?”

Garcia shakes her head.  “I don’t know-”

“That’s a risk we’re going to have to take,” Emily says.  She turns to the rest of the team.  “Let’s go.”

“Be safe,” Garcia whimpers. 

…

You barely feel alive anymore.  You had your eyes closed, and were resting your head against the back of the chair when you tried to imagine yourself back in your apartment with Luke.  You imagined being snuggled into him on the couch as you watched some cheesy, romantic movie. You had given up struggling- your restraints were too tight, it was no use. You tried to count how much time it had been since you’d been here. But the truth was, you had no idea how long you’d been out for. Hours? Days? 

You were wondering if the team was still looking for you when you hear a distant thump coming from upstairs.  

The thing was- you knew this wasn’t just about Emily’s location.  It wasn’t even about your team’s location.  It was about beating you- the power involved in outsmarting the FBI. 

You kept your eyes closed, taking deep breaths and trying as best as you could to get your body to stop shivering. You were bruised and bloody and dehydrated.

You hadn’t opened your eyes in a while now. And even though you couldn’t sleep, you didn’t want to open them because you didn’t want Atwood to know you were awake.  

You wished your mind would quiet down, but of course it wouldn't.  You had nothing to do here besides think.  You think about the last words you said to Luke, and you think of how meaningless and insignificant they were.  You try to remember when the last time you told him you loved him was.  You think about if you even wanted to get out of here alive if there was no Luke to go home to.  

In the midst of your thoughts, you gasp loudly when the only door leading out of the room blows off the hinges.  Dust fills the air and you flinch at the feeling of your neck suddenly being barred by a strong arm.  

Atwood. 

“Drop it!” Emily’s familiar voice fills the room.  

You sigh a breath of relief, despite knowing there was a gun pressed directly against your temple. 

“You’re not getting out of here,” Rossi’s voice says.  “So you might as well put the gun down now.” When the dust finally settles, you see him filing to the left corner of the room, his gun drawn.  Matt has already situated himself in the right corner. 

Atwood chuckles from behind you, his grip tightening. 

“What makes you think that?” he sneers. 

“Look around you, man-” Matt says.  “We’ve got you cornered.”

Atwood shoves the barrel of the gun harshly against your temple, making your head spin. 

“I like my odds.”

His eyes flicker to the clock on the wall- a motion that Rossi picks up on immediately. 

“What’re you waiting for Greg?” There’s a taunting tone to his voice. “For three o’clock?”

Atwood’s head shoots up. That hit a nerve. 

“We know what your plan was, Greg,” Emily says.  “We found the bomb.”

For a brief moment, you feel the gun being dropped from your temple.  Just as quickly, the sound of a single gunshot makes you flinch.  Atwood drops to the floor behind you, collapsing in a pool of his own blood. 

It was Matt who took the shot- taking advantage of the brief moment of hesitation that Atwood demonstrated.  You turn to him, trying to express your gratitude, but your head is spinning. 

“You’re okay,” Emily states.  It sounds like she’s trying more to convince herself of that fact. 

You nod without even realizing it. 

Matt’s the first one at your side. He’s frantically ripping away the ropes from your wrist.  There’s ligature marks already visible on your skin. 

Cops and EMTs start rushing through the room just as Emily speaks into her mic that it’s clear.  

You try to stand up, but the world around you spins immediately, tilting on its axis.  You almost black out in just about half a second. 

“Woah-” Emily says.  

Matt catches you before you fall to the floor.  

You struggle to look around the room, but everything is too bright and people are moving too fast.  It’s impossible to tell who’s here and who’s not. 

“L-Luke?” You hesitate because you almost don’t want to know. 

Matt gives you a soft smile, pausing when you’re finally free from your restraints. “He’s okay, he’s outside.”

You blink a few times, not sure if you heard him right. “He’s alive?” you lock eyes with Matt. 

Matt nods, his face sincere. 

“But he’s hurt- Atwood said-”

“Hey,” Matt whispers, tightening his grip around your waist.  “He’s okay, I’ll take you to him.”

You let out a sigh of relief, but it could double as a soft sob.  There are tears falling down your cheeks. 

With Matt bearing the majority of your weight, you let him lead you out of the building.  The glaring, afternoon sun makes it hard to see once you get outside, but you trust Matt’s guidance. 

After only a few steps, you hear your name being called. 

It’s so hard to focus, and you can feel your vision blurring in and out- but you’d know that voice anywhere. 

“Luke-” you whisper tentatively, because you still weren’t entirely sure that the voice wasn’t a hallucination. 

But then you hear it again.  This time it’s clearer and closer. 

You blink a few more times, the brightness fading as you strain to see. 

Slowly, Luke’s figure comes into focus.  He’s rushing towards you, and you realize that’s the first time since being taken that you feel like you could breathe again. 

“Oh my God-” Luke stammers.  Once he reaches you, he hesitates, like he’s too afraid to touch you.  You were sure nothing about you looked even remotely beautiful right now.  Between the bruises on your face and your tear-stained cheeks, you can only imagine the type of image Luke was taking in. “Are you okay?” he asks, he grasps your upper arms gently. 

You ignore his question and throw your arms around him, letting your cheek rest against his chest.  He wraps his arms around you, one hand falling on your upper back, while the other cradles the back of your head.  He kisses your hair firmly before pulling away.  He holds you at an arm’s length and scans your body. 

He takes in the sight of you.  There’s bruising along your jawline, red swirled with blues and purples from broken blood vessels.  It makes his stomach lurch to know you’d been hurt like this- that he couldn’t stop you from being hurt like this.  

There’s blood caked into the side of your hair- crusty and turning dark crimson.  Luke runs his thumb along the length of it.  

Suddenly, he sees you frown.  After blinking a few more times, his face has finally come into focus, which allows you to see the cut visible on his forehead. “Your head-” you observe. 

Luke starts protesting immediately.  “I’m fine, I’m okay.” His small cut was nothing compared to the bruises that inevitably littered your body. 

Your head spins again, making you sway in place.  Luke’s quick to wrap an arm around you and you fall into his side with ease, wincing when his hand falls on your bruised side. 

The EMTs are already on the street, ready to throw you into the back of an ambulance. 

You try to protest, assuring Luke and everyone else that you were fine. But Luke insists.  “You need to be checked out.  You’re not fine.”  

It feels like forever before the hospital clears you.  You have a concussion and a couple broken ribs, nothing that won’t heal on its own.  You’re grateful to not be more severely injured.  But you’re also just exhausted and sore and ready to go home. 

Luke barely let’s go of your hand, let alone leaves your side for the next twenty four hours. It’s comforting having him beside you, but you don’t like seeing him so worried. 

Once you’re discharged from the hospital, Luke and you head straight to the jet, where the rest of the team is waiting.  

Everyone wants to know how you’re feeling- how you’re holding up.  But talking about it made you think about it, and you really didn’t want to think about it. 

The plane ride home feels agonizingly long.  Every time the jet jostles or has turbulence, you wince. And every time you wince, everyone rushes to your side to make sure you’re alright. 

“Can I get you anything?” Tara asks.  She had just stood up to refill her own cup of tea.  

You shake your head, offering her your most convincing smile. “No thanks, I’m fine.”

“Blanket?” Reid offers. 

“Ice pack?”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Coffee?”

“Vodka?”

You decline. 

You sprawl out on the couch with your head resting in Luke’s lap and feign sleep just to avoid their fretting.  It makes you feel guilty to know you had them all so worried. 

His hands are in your hair, stroking the strands softly. 

“Luke, m’tired,” you whisper quietly enough so that only he hears. 

“I know,” Luke answers.  “We’re almost home.”

You lose track of the rest of the plane ride to your scattered brain, only picking up on small details: the murmur of Rossi and Emily talking beside you, the roughness of Luke’s jeans against your bruised cheek, the way your legs have to be slightly bent in order to fit on the couch.  Time passes in a disorienting lurch. 

It is an eternity before you land in Virginia.

And it’s an even longer eternity before you’re pulling into the driveway of you and Luke’s shared house. 

He tries to help you walk up to the door but you wave him away.  “I got it, I’m fine.”

You add a small smile when you see the hurt look on his face. 

“Bed or couch?” he asks while rushing to collect his keys out of his pocket. 

“Couch,” you murmur.  Your choice was based solely on the fact that the couch was significantly closer to you than the bed.  It also didn’t involved a flight of stairs. 

Luke drops your bags by the entryway before guiding you to the living room. His hand hovers wearily on your lower back- like he’s afraid you’ll collapse at any moment. 

You exhale choppily when you’re finally able to sit down on the couch.  It’s worn, familiar fabric makes you feel safer. Your eyes are heavy and your head wants to lull forward.  It’s hard to focus. 

Luke pulls the throw blanket down from the back of the couch and lays it gently on top of you.  It’s warmth brings comfort and ease.  

Luke kisses your forehead gently.  

“I’m gonna go grab some water,” he tells you. 

You just mumble incoherently in response. 

You quickly succumb to the exhaustion- letting your eyes fall shut.  But as soon as you let them close, his face appears.  It’s right in front of you, so close that if you reached out you could touch him.  Atwood is flashing his teeth with his signature evil grin, their tint of yellow and crookedness felt way too detailed to be a dream.  You wonder if you’re back in the basement- if you never really left in the first place.  Maybe being rescued was the dream. 

A soft clinking sound makes you shoot up from the couch, alert and panting while you frantically look around the room.  

Luke is setting a glass of water on the coffee table in front of you, but your startled response makes him whip his head towards you. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, face full of worry. 

As soon as you see him, you realize that you’re home and safe. You try to calm yourself down, embarrassed by your reaction.   

You take a deep breath. “Nothing,” you mumble, shaking it off.  “I’m fine.”

You both knew it was a lie. 

But Luke doesn’t argue- he doesn’t push.  He just settled down beside you on the couch, his arm wrapping around your shoulders carefully.  

You wait for a minute, steadying your breathing, before attempting to close your eyes again.  At first, it’s just the back of your eyelids and their darkness.  You stay focused on that and your breathing.  

As you finally start to relax, you start to feel a strange pressure against your wrists.  You jostle your arms, but for some reason they won’t move.  You’re stuck in place- restrained to the chair again. 

Suddenly, you feel Atwood’s fist against your jaw- his ring tearing open the flesh of your cheek.  His snickering is loud in your ears. 

You snap your eyes open again- you’re met by your dimly lit living room.  

Luke’s thumb is trailing up and down your arm comfortingly.  You were safe- these images you were seeing weren’t real. 

The third time you close your eyes- you see him almost instantly.  This time he’s close enough so that you can feel his hot breath on your neck.  

You shoot up quickly, panting heavily.  Your face collapses in your hands as you try to rub the images from your eyes.

It was real. It was very real, and you had the markings and bruises to prove it. 

This- laying on your own couch, finally getting to sleep- was what you’d been waiting for.  But now that your adrenaline had faded and some of the grogginess from your concussion had subsided, you couldn’t shut your eyes without hearing him, seeing him, feeling him- all over.

Luke sits up too, attentive to your uneasiness. 

“I c-can’t-” your voice is shaky.  “I can’t close my eyes,” you explain. 

Luke’s large hand rubs your back soothingly.

“I can’t close my eyes without seeing him.”

Luke nods, his hand travels from your back to your arm, he grips it securely before leaning in and pressing his lips to your temple.  You lean into his touch, letting him pull you closer to him.  He falls back against the couch, and you fall against his chest, practically on top of him at this point. 

“You're safe now,” he soothes. 

“I’m so tired,” you whisper, exhaustion making you start to tear up.  

“I know,” Luke murmurs.  His fingers trail up and down your arm, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. 

It doesn’t take long of Luke holding you like that for you to fall asleep.  At first, it’s nothingness- just a deep, peaceful slumber.  Until it isn’t. 

This time you don’t see Atwood.  Instead, you see someone curled up on the ground.  As you step closer, you realize it’s Luke.  You call out to him, but there’s no response. 

When he doesn’t answer, you reach your hand out, fingers grazing his bicep.  His skin feels ice cold.  You shake him lightly- but there’s no response.  Harder this time, you pull his weight towards you, hoping to get his attention.  Instead, Luke’s lifeless body flops onto his back.  His eyes are still open, lifelessly baring into your own. His mouth is parted slightly but there’s no air coming in or out of it.  That’s when you see the blood dripping down his face and pooled beneath his hair. 

You wake up screaming. 

“Hey-” Luke’s spinning and sitting up to position himself in front of you.  He cups your face between his hands. “Hey, hey- you’re okay. You’re safe, I got you.”

But you shake your head.  “It wasn’t me-”

Luke’s brown eyes narrow slightly, like he’s trying to understand. 

“It was you,” you say, voice fading into a sob.  “He t-told me that he k-” you swallow the lump in your throat, but it does little to make you stop crying.  “He told me that he killed you.  He told me you were dead.” 

Just saying it outloud makes you erupt into a puddle of tears.  You’re so distraught that you barely notice Luke pulling you into his lap on the couch. 

He’s murmuring soothing words into your ear, but continues letting you cry into his chest.  The numbness from earlier had completely worn off, and while you were scared and hurt- it felt good to feel something other than exhaustion.  

You’re not sure how long you stay like that- curled into Luke’s chest sobbing into his cotton t-shirt.  At some point, Luke had used his free hand to reach for the remote.  He put your favorite show on the television.  You’d seen every episode several times, but Luke knew it brought you comfort. 

Your eyes were red rimmed and puffy and you sniffled weakly. “I’m sorry I’m keeping you from sleeping,” you whispered, when you were confident you wouldn’t burst into tears again. 

Luke tightened his grip around you. “It’s okay,” he assures you.  “We’re both concussed, and I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to sleep while you’re concussed, anyway.”

You smile. 

Luke linked your hands together, looking down at you and giving you a soft smile. “I love you.” He whispered, lips pressing against the top of your head.

“I love you too.” you replied quietly.

Things were a mess.  And you were sad and scared and it would probably take a lot of sleepless nights and painful sobs for you to get through this.  Luke would be there to dry your tears though, just like he always was. And Luke would probably have to try harder to keep you feeling safe and eventually, you were going to have to talk about what happened.

But right now, wrapped in each other's arms on your shared couch, all you needed was each other.   

[shealolz]

"you're too memorable to forget" - Inosuke Hashibira

Warnings & Notes: descriptions of injury, this is more of a drabble than one shot

Inosuke Hashibira x Gender Neutral Medic Reader

genre: fluff

Summary: inosuke get's hurt on a mission and medic!reader helps him

Word Count: 1,172 words

You scratched at your ankle absentmindedly, you sat in the garden of the butterfly estate, watching the girls run around and play tag as Zenitsu and Tanjirou trained (not that Zenitsu wanted to). You giggled and stood up, stretching your arms over your head and walking back into the kitchen where you would start an easy yet healthy lunch. The boy's deserved it after all the training they've done.

Inosuke was on a mission at the moment, something about Tokyo (you didn't know the details), but he'd be here before lunch to enjoy a meal. You started to make some simple tonkatsu because it was one of your personal favorites and you knew Aoi liked it, especially when you made it.

Out of your varying talents from training under the Insect Hashira herself, your favorites were cooking and healing, then again everyone who studied under her learned it at some point. You weren't a demon slayer nor did you have extraordinary senses like the boys did but you were skilled with what you knew and that was good enough.

Speaking of the boys the front door slammed open to reveal Inosuke. "Inosuke!" you cheered, pausing in your cooking to run over. You lifted the boar mask from his head carefully, knowing underneath he was probably drenched in sweat. Inosuke grinned at you, his black and blue hair plastered against his forehead and neck. "(NAME)!" he shouted, ruffling your hair. Your name happened to be the only one he managed to not screw up.

What you took notice of though was the gash against his cheek and the several cuts littering his bare chest along with the slowly blossoming bruises. "your all scraped up." you sighed, grabbing his bicep to direct him to the infirmary all the while yelling for someone to finish the food.

"I can't get hurt! I'm invincible!" Inosuke screeched but complied nonetheless. You hummed non-committedly as you made him sit on a cot in the medical wing. You rummaged through the cabinets to find ointment and bandages.

You cleaned up the cheek cut first, wiping up the blood with a clot before applying a cream made from yarrow and calendula before placing gauze over it. "the great Inosuke doesn't need no medicine." Inosuke pouted, glaring at his feet. "yeah well even the mighty get hurt sometimes." you respond calmly as you apply the ointment to the cuts, not seeing the need to put bandages over them since they were that tiny. They'd close up quickly anyways.

"Is there anything else I should be concerned about?" you couldn't really do anything about the bruises except for having him use an ice pack before bed. "pfft- no I'm fine!" Inosuke smirks, trying to stand up before he ultimately collapsed into your arms. "you were saying?" you teased.

Inosuke huffed but sat back on the bed and reluctantly began to roll up his pant leg to show a deep cut that almost hit the bone. "you should've told me you idiot!" you screamed, smacking him gently on the head. "were you planning to bleed out all day?"

"I didn't think it was that bad..." he mumbled. You wanted to facepalm, even if he was raised by animals this was common knowledge. "you're gonna need it stitched you, bozo." all your insults were light-hearted, you swear.

Grumbling, you pulled out the stitching kit and held it in front of Inosuke's face. "this is gonna go through your skin, bud." you said slowly. "so don't scream, I'm not trying to fight you." he blinks before shrugging and rubbing at his ear.

Letting out a breath you slowly began to stitch the skin of Inosuke's leg back together. He bit down on his lip due to the lack of anesthesia, you would've given it to him if you had it but Lady Shinobu wasn't home and she had the key to the pill cabinet. After stitching it you cleaned it and wrapped a bandage around it tightly to make sure nothing came loose.

You lifted your head and blood rushed to your cheeks realizing the position you were in. you sat on your knees, between his legs as Inosuke stared down at you. "You're all red. Are you sick?"

"Inosuke n-no!" you yelped, your hands flying upwards as you stood.

"MANJIROU! BENITSU! (NAME) HAS A FEV-" he started to yell but you pushed your lips against his. When you pulled back he blinked at you multiple times. "what was that?" he asked. "a kiss." you responded, your face burning impossibly hotter. "why? don't couples and mates do that stuff?" his eyebrows creased as he titled his head.

How can someone so stupid be so cute?

"uh yeah. but I needed you to be quiet." you smiled awkwardly. "oh. so it was a one-time thing?" Inosuke sighed. "I-I mean it doesn't have to be if you want too of course! I wouldn't mind being in a relationship with you-"

Inosuke kissed you.

"and what was that for?" you muttered, hoping one answer over the other. "'cause I needed you to be quiet. and I don't think I'd mind being in a relationship with you if we can do that more often," he said, grinning at you with his head bowed.

"y-you wanna make it a regular thing?" you croaked. He laughed, not his maniacal one but a soft chuckle. "I do. but I assume you do as well?" you nod shakily at his proposal and kiss him again, this time long enough to actually acknowledge it.

It wasn't rough, hard, or bruising but instead surprisingly gentle like Inosuke was nervous to move his hand in the wrong place and accidentally break you. It was your first kiss (was it? you've technically kissed him three times now) and it certainly was a pleasurable one.

Your hand moved to rest against his cheek, your thumb rubbing over the gauze as his hands hovered over your hips. Your lips moved against each other's slowly, not in a heated way but more in anxiety to see where it would go away. Neither you nor Inosuke had been in a previous relationship and he could barely read social cues and you could barely keep a stable conversation with someone.

A soft coo came from the door and you and Inosuke pulled apart. Tanjirou stood at the door, smiling softly with his hands clasped as the younger girls crowded around him. Zenitsu laid on the floor and Kanao patted his back in a stiff apology. Your eyes widened and you pointed out the door. "out! now!" you screamed as Inosuke cackled in front of you.

Tanjirou winked jokingly and helped Kanao drag a defeated Zenitsu out the door, the younger girls following.

"wow (Name) you have them on a leash, dont'cha?" Inosuke hummed, patting your arm softly. "wait- I just realized you've never mispronounced my name. why's that?" you smile, turning to face him. He looks at you, his emerald eyes glowing with something you couldn't read.

"you're too memorable to forget."

[alpacaparkaseok]

Lost & Found

Pairing: Park Jimin x soulmate (oc)

Warnings: Insecurity, anxiety, abandonment

Word Count: 1.6k

a/n: *long sigh* finally. This story has been haunting me for months now. I was so tempted to just go crazy and start uploading it because I love it so much. But If I’m uploading this, it means that we’ve made it to the promised day! Yay! You guys, I think this may be one of my favorites. Which, if we’re being honest, all of my works are my favorites. But this is everything.

That is all. Please read and enjoy. Let me know your thoughts, I’d be overjoyed to hear from you.

Chapter 1. Unbreakable Bond

It was easier than I thought it would be; breaking the bond. Perhaps I was just desperate enough. Practically begging on my knees as I stood outside the dingy apartment building, knowing that this was irreversible.

Wanting it to be irreversible.

The woman’s name is Christina, and she gives me a wary look as she explains the cutting process. Her own severed thread is a testament to her underground business. I trust her.

“I need you to be absolutely positive about this,” she warns. “There's no going back once I cut the thread. It will be nearly impossible to find your soulmate.”

That’s the least of my problems. I know that it’ll be all too easy to check in on the whereabouts of my soulmate; after all, he rarely goes anywhere without it being broadcasted to the entire world.

“Burn it.”

Warning me about the impending heat as she pulls out a blowtorch, I hear her sigh. Christina gathers up my thread and places it delicately atop a metal slab. 

The little warehouse attached to her apartment offers little distraction; there are a few scattered tools laying about and nothing else but dull gray walls. In a time like this, a distraction would be nice.

“Do you ever regret it?” I ask, an uneasy turn of my stomach pushing the question out. Christina pulls her faceguard down, gesturing for me to look the opposite way. My shadow takes up the entire wall as she fires up the blowtorch.

“Me?” I can feel the heat of the fire, but I refuse to flinch. “Not really. But I do feel a bit bad for my soulmate.”

I frown at the gray wall. “Why?”

Christina shifts to get a more direct angle on the thin red thread that hangs from my finger and extends to disappear under the door. “You’re not the only one who is about to lose a soulmate today. At least it’s your decision.”

Staring at the unforgiving gray wall, I have plenty of time to mull over her response. However, the second I begin to worry or feel sorry for my soulmate, I remember the sweaty palms and crippling anxiety from earlier.  

As Christina takes a step back after nearly thirty minutes, turning the blowtorch off, I turn to assess the damage. Frowning at the still intact thread, Christina snorts.

“Don’t move.”

She takes a lofty hammer in her hands, bringing it down hard on the thread. I gasp as sparks fly into the air, my thread tightening around my finger and pulling. Grabbing my hand, I struggled to remain upright on the stool.

“We’re almost there!” Christina huffs, bringing the hammer down again and again. Sparks continue to fly, one landing on my shoulder and burning a small hole in my shirt. My hiss of pain is cut short as the pressure on my finger suddenly loosens, nearly causing me to fly backward since I was straining against it.

My breath comes up short as Christina removes the hammer from atop the thread, and I see what happened.

The formerly vivid red hue fades to a dull color, almost a brown-red like dried blood. I watch as the frayed ends begin to retreat, one end slipping off the table and disappearing under the door.

I push off the stool, ripping the door open just in time to see the red thread glinting under the moonlight, drifting away on a breeze. Retreating to its other half.

Glancing down at my hand, I hold up my finger where the other frayed end stops just a few centimeters away from the base of my finger.

“Yeah, it’ll stay like that,” Christina says as she comes to stand beside me. “Unless you want me to burn your finger off…?”

I give her a dry chuckle. “No, thanks. It’s alright like this.” I tilt my head, marveling at the fact that I’m looking out into the world without my thread obscuring my view. “So...will his thread just disappear?”

Christina shakes her head. “Your threads, while cut, still mirror each other. So his will look like yours in a few minutes when it catches up to him.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

She invites me back inside, offering me a salve for my aching shoulder that was burned, frowning as she tells me that it will most likely scar.

“I’ll just consider it a souvenir,” I mumble. Christina laughs.

“That’s the spirit.” She passes me a mug of apple cider, sitting across from me at the same metal slab she calls a table where my thread was severed. “So, do you know who your soulmate is, then? Is that why?”

I take a long sip of the cider, my mind instantly replaying the scene from hours earlier. “I know who he is. Although, I wouldn’t say that I cut it because of who he is. He’s a great guy, actually. Top notch.”

Christina raises her brows at me. “Really? What makes you say that?”

I pause to look at my frayed thread, the string of fate loved by the world over. The thread that I always thought would bring me joy beyond belief, but made me realize that it would be better to let go.

For him.

“Do you know BTS?”

Christina sets her mug down with a loud bang. “Do I - of course I know who they are. Why?” Her expression turns to horror. “Why?”

I wince, taking another sip of my cider. Holding my hand up to display my severed thread, I wiggle my finger. “Park Jimin.”

✂

Jimin is in the middle of his dinner when he feels a sharp tug on his red thread. Chuckling at it, he holds his hand up for the thousands of fans watching his live to see.

“My soulmate is acting up, I think.” He watches as the comments flood in, most everyone mourning the fact that they are not his soulmate. A few people tease him about it being them on the other side of the thread, and while he knows that they’re simply joking with him, he can’t help the increase in his heart rate.

If only.

The thread tightens around his finger, making him hiss in pain. “Ouch,” he mutters, pulling back against the thread in order to sit still. “Sorry, everyone. What were we talking about? Oh, right. The concert today -”

Jimin whines as the thread pulls even harder, nearly causing him to spill his drink. Pulling back as hard as he can, he gives the camera an apologetic smile.

Then, his eyes widen as an idea strikes him. “Do you think I should follow it?” He asks excitedly. He hasn’t ever heard about people’s threads pulling them in the direction of their soulmate when they’re not even in the same room, but maybe she’s here, staying at the same hotel-

“I’ve gotta go!” Jimin shouts, blowing a kiss with his free hand before promising to visit everyone again soon. “Thanks guys!” Ending the live, Jimin shoots out of his chair, barely remembering to grab his room key before bursting out of his room and into the hallway.

Following the pull of the thread, he grins as he follows it to the elevator. Punching the button as hard as he can, he jumps from one foot to another as he waits for the doors to open.

“C’mon, c- bingo!” Sliding into the elevator with a gleeful shriek, he ponders for a moment before deciding to hit the ground floor.

Jimin’s cheeks are red with excitement by the time he reaches the lobby of the hotel, not even noticing when a couple of the bodyguards that escorted them to the concert venue today see him and immediately start following him.

“Mr. Park!” One of them calls. “Mr. Park! You can’t just leave without some form of security!”

Jimin hardly spares him a glance as he bolts for the exit where his thread continues to pull him. “Then follow me!”

The bodyguards chase after him into the night, exchanging concerned glances as Jimin follows after his thread like a convict on the run.

They nearly tackle him as they round a corner he just turned a few seconds prior, stumbling to a stop as they see Jimin standing still in the middle of the empty road.

“Mr. Park,” one of them pants. “Where are you going?”

Jimin stays completely still, the sudden lack of tension from his thread causing his heart to stop. Glancing down at where it’s wrapped around his finger, he feels the exact moment his heart stumbles to a stop.

Floating on a breeze, he sees the other end of his thread. Skimming along the ground like a plastic bag tossed about by the wind.

“What is it?” Jimin breathes out, the question leaving his lips without his consent. “What is it?”

There’s a chill that settles over him as the thread comes closer and closer, making Jimin retreat almost as though he could stop it from reaching him.

“No!” He yells, taking another step back as the end of the thread now arrives at his foot. “No! Not like this!”

The bodyguards watch on with disbelief as the thread works its way up to Jimin’s hand, slowing to a stop just below his finger. They’re continually glancing down at their own threads, making sure that they aren’t about to stumble upon the same ugly fate.

But it’s just Jimin with the cut thread. It’s just Jimin, who falls to his knees with a dull thump. Staring down at the thread, raising his shaking hand and grasping the frayed edge.

“Are they…?” One young bodyguard asks. His senior shakes his head.

“No. The thread turns gray when they die, remember?”

“Then what happened?” He asks again, eyes wide.

His senior sighs heavily, heart breaking at the sight he’s only ever heard stories about. “They must have found someone to cut it.”

The young bodyguard gasps. “Cut it? Is that even possible?”

Jimin’s sobs answer the question for him, the sound echoing off the buildings. One by one, lights turn on in the surrounding apartment buildings as people wonder what the commotion is all about.

Jumping into action, the bodyguards swarm Jimin, picking him up and supporting him between the two of them. Jimin’s body is weak and limp as he shouts and sobs.

“C-come back to me.”

next

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taglist: @taylorroe3​ @dreamcatcherjiah @thecaffeinatedscribbles @onewoneman @moon-write​ @marianeamine​ @missseoulite​ @preciouschimine​

[a-detraque-barista]

Bread and Blood

Yandere Vampire Jimin x Reader

Genre: Yandere, Horror, Angst

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: blood, abuse, anxiety, insecurity, yandere themes, mentions of religion, reader getting ignored??

A/N: Hello hello everyone~ this took me s o long cause it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written but I hope you enjoy~ @strwbrry-lia

(I created the aesthetic myself 😊)

“Now now, Blood Bag. No need to get emotional over someone like him” whispered the blood-sucking monster that stood in front of you. Blood Bag. That was the ‘cute’ nickname he had come up with for you. The man in front of you wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The same hand that he put on your shoulder to make you look at him. “Why don’t you stop crying over that good-for-nothing for one second, and tell me what you were doing.”

Even though he used the word ‘why’, it was not a question. It was a command. Living with him for five months has taught you what different tones of voice he had. It was a wide range and some blurred with others making you tread lightly at those times. But right now, you knew you needed to respond correctly.

“I was just going to pack my things and bring them back home,” you choked through your tears as you tried your best to sound convincing.

“Tsk tsk, blood bag. We’ve talked about lying and that it’s bad. Haven’t we?” his grip on your shoulders became tighter as his red orbs stared into yours.

When you didn’t respond he repeated his question, “Haven’t we, blood bag?” His hand that was still covered in blood trailed the slope of your neck and wrapped his fingers to where you were struggling to breathe.

You quickly nodded. His fingers eased but did not leave the scarred and bruised skin. His eyes landed on the bite marks he’s left and couldn’t help the shiver slither up his spine. You were doing things to him that no one else could. Ever since he found you broken and beaten in this very building, his infatuation for you has only grown. How this happened, you have no clue. From the first time he bit you, you’ve been trying to leave his clutches. But you have no home, the only friend you had is now lying on the floor dead, and your family hates you. However, finding a place to stay wasn’t the only difficult part. The undead, blood-sucker wouldn’t let you leave.

“You always seem to be up in the clouds. Tell me, blood bag, what are you thinking about?” he spoke in his usual sickly sweet tone, masking the beast that was hiding.

“Thinking about how I got here,” you confessed and finally noticed you were back in the living room you’ve had to sit in for so many months.

“Well, that’s easy,” he stepped impossibly closer with his hands now cupping your face. “I saved you.”

⠽ ⡰⠑ ⠍⡠⠑

Tonight was no ordinary night. Tonight was Halloween. One of the most liked holidays. When kids go trick or treating and teenagers along with adults get drunk. Frights and screams are all around except for your little apartment at the edge of town. Your apartment was cold and dreary as you sat curled in your favorite corner. You were waiting impatiently for the inevitable beating that was coming for you. The knocks at your door went ignored as you cowered behind your bed.

An hour of waiting ended in a thunderous pounding at your door. Covering your ears did nothing to drown out the loud banging. Suddenly, in the middle of your panic-filled mind, you think of the fire escape outside of your bathroom window. You just had to get your legs to work before you could carry out your scattered plan.

Using the bed to help you up, you slowly and shakily make your way to your bathroom. You groaned internally as you realized this was the window your landlord had warned you about. It was the one that got stuck and needed force with special angling. You’ve never opened this window so you had no idea how to open it. Your fear overcame your pessimism making you try your best to get the window open.

After time and time again, you couldn’t open the damn thing. Stepping back and taking a deep breath, you tried to calm down. You heard the door bust open making your head snap to the bathroom door that was still ajar. Quickly closing and locking it, you tried prying open the window again.

Someone was looking out for you up there because the window had finally budged, allowing you to crawl out and onto the rusted fire escape. You shut the window closed just in time as you saw your father burst through that door. Flipping him off, you climbed down quickly and into the alleyway. You began to run as fast as you could, already knowing your father was only now exiting the front door of the building.

You ran and ran. Even as your lungs began to burn and your legs aching, you kept running. The bruises and cuts on your face and stomach hurt more than anything at that point. You knew you couldn’t stop until you found somewhere he wouldn’t find you. Where no one would find you.

Then, the old abandoned warehouse where thirteen people mysteriously died came into view. Practically skidding to a stop, you were panting while contemplating if you should go in. Convincing yourself it would only be for the night, you squeeze through the wood that blocked the main door.

The air was no colder than your apartment so the clothes you had on were more than enough. You sat down on the floor next to the door that read ‘office’. The letters were faded and there were small bits of them missing. If you remembered correctly, this factory was almost seventy-five years old. The broken windows and cracked foundation proved as support for your guess.

After catching your breath, you stood up to head into the office. Looking around to see if anything was interesting. As nothing popped out at you, making your way upstairs seemed to be a good idea. That was until you saw him.

The man wasn’t necessarily tall, but he was still taller than you. His back was turned towards you but you could see the terror on the girl’s face that noticed you. Tears were rushing down her features as she winced in pain. Her voice was lost when she tried calling to you for help. Her face paled and her eyes rolled back. The woman’s body dropped to the floor and the man inhaled deeply. You heard the hitch in his breath and you backed away as slowly as you could manage. Unfortunately, glass crunched beneath the heel of your shoe. Without thinking for too long, you turned around and sprinted back down the stairs.

“Fuck no, not doing that shit,” you mumbled to yourself as you tried to exit the factory as fast as you could.

You felt a hand grab the back of your hoodie causing you to fall onto your back with a grunt. Turning over to your side to ease some of the pain in your back, you see a pair of shiny black dress shoes stand in front of you. With the tip of his foot, he pushed onto your shoulder so he could see your face better. His head tilted to the side, causing his hair to show more of his eyes that were glowing. The crimson color almost distracted you from the rest of his face.

His jawline was sharp and tilted up slightly as if he was looking down at you in a more demeaning way. His full lips that were covered in drying blood tugged into a smirk. He hummed as if thinking about what to do next. He planted his foot back down on the concrete floor before crouching down. You had to admit, the murderous man was even more handsome up close but you sadly couldn’t focus on him right now.

Your head began to feel light and fuzzy the more you looked at the man. Closing your eyes maybe wasn’t the best idea, but your head was suddenly submerged in pain. You moved the hand that was gripping the opposite shoulder to your head. It did nothing to take away the pain but there’s not much you could do as a killer stood above you, planning to do who knows what.

“Don’t worry, blood bag. I’m not gonna do anything to you...yet,” you heard his honey-like voice before feeling him wrap his arms around you. “My name’s Jimin, and you’re going to love your new hell.”

⤐ ⤐ ⤐ ⤐

Five months later and you were in, just as he said, hell. You have scars from his fangs all over, fatigue from blood loss, and an appalling adoration for the man who has brought you to his home. What he called home, you called hell. Not only were you used as livestock, but you were tormented by the fact you had fallen for your shepherd.

You hated calling him by his name because you thought it fit him so well and rolled off your tongue like it was meant to. So you called him anything but his name.

He was still locked up in his room like always and you’ve already ventured the enormous house, there was practically nothing to do. You’ve been staring at the wall so often you can no longer sit on the couch, where you’re certain has an ass print from you. Nothing in this mansion intrigued you anymore. Should you maybe...leave the house? You’ve never attempted to leave since you figured he would punish you for it. But how would he know if he’s always in his room or workspace?

You got up from your bed to look into the closet of wonders you’ve never bothered looking through. You just see a comfy set of clothes and go with that since you don’t do anything. Luckily, you found an outfit that matched your style. You didn’t have any money so it would just be a walk around the town, and getting to know exactly which town you were in.

It was a lot easier leaving than you thought was possible with a vampire living there. The house was on an isolated street but you saw old and rusted signs pointing towards the town. It was maybe a twenty-minute walk with you humming and slightly tripping over nothing. It was nice to finally get out of that suffocating house and go for a walk. The air was brisk and made your lungs feel like they were fully inflating.

Once you got to the main road of the city, many people were seen walking. Either by themselves or with children. The day was nice but it seemed there was an event going on. Crowds weren’t your thing so you decided to keep exploring the quaint town.

Walking by bakeries, craft stores, and many other family-owned shops. It was all different to you, having lived in bigger cities your whole life. You were walking by the only bookstore you’ve seen so far and decided to go in. It smelled of old paper and incense. Tall aisles were filled with any genre you could think of and more. You couldn’t remember the last time you were in a bookstore.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” a deep voice broke you from your thoughts as you turned towards the man it came from.

“Oh, no, just looking. Thank you though,” you smile slightly before continuing your way to the back where the sign read ‘Folklore’.

“Well, it’s just that I’ve never seen you around town before. You just move here?” he followed you while asking his question.

“Yeah,” you didn’t feel like talking at this point.

“I figured. Well if you need someone to show you around I’d be more than happy to-”

“Yeong-Jun, go bother somebody else. She’s obviously not interested,” another voice interested the man that was pestering you.

The guy next to you huffed before leaving the store and you looked to see who had said that. He was behind the counter where a register and binders sat.

“I’m sorry about him, he does that all the time,” he smiled gently at you before going back to the small paperback in his hand.

You went back to scanning the spines of the books that sat in front of you, but your eyes kept glancing at the nice man who helped you out. You couldn’t help but think that maybe the two of you could be friends. He seemed nice and he obviously liked books, same as you. But what would you even say to him? Talking first was never your strong suit, or just making friends in general. You never knew what to say so maybe, it’d be best to just leave him alone.

At this point, you didn’t even know why you were taking so long in the store. It’s not like you could buy anything. Sighing, you headed towards the exit before the man at the counter’s voice stopped you.

“Didn’t find anything interesting?”

“No, that’s not it. It’s just that I don’t have the money for it.”

“Oh, well...How about you take one anyway?”

“I’m sorry?” you turned back to face him.

“You can take a book of your choosing. Think of it as me lending it to you. For free,” he said through a chuckle after seeing your expression.

“You sure?”

He nodded before motioning at all the rows of books. Swiftly, before he could change his mind, you made your way back to the Fantasy section and grabbed the one you had been eyeing almost the whole time.

You stopped at the counter, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, just bring it back when you’re done and you can borrow another one,” he smiled so wide it made his eyes turn into crescents.

You tried hiding your smile while nodding and exiting the store like a child who had just gotten candy. Books have been your only entertainment ever since he kidnapped you. There was no television to watch, no laptop, or a gaming system. The castle held no form of technology besides electricity for the lighting and sound systems. No matter where you were in the house, you could always hear music. It was beautiful yet sad performed by a group of woodwinds, brass, and many other instruments.

It’s good music to read to. You decided to head back to your hell. Wait...Why...Why would you go back if you were able to walk out the front door, be gone for almost an hour, and walked around town with no questions asked?

You turned around and headed to the church because that was the only place you could think of that would let you stay for free without worrying too much about a creep.

The last thing on your mind now was the thing that was holed up in his room, becoming hungry.

You slowly opened the door to the only church in town that was almost as big as the castle you came from. Not seeing anyone, you fully entered the building with the book in your hand. You tried to walk as quietly as you could but your shoes hitting the polished tiles caused echoing that bounced off the high ceiling walls.

“Hello? Is someone there?” a voice was heard coming from the side. You didn’t respond as you heard footsteps coming closer. “Oh, well hello there. What can I help you with?”

“I-I...I was wondering if I could, um, stay here for the night?” your social skills have suffered tremendously because of the anxiety your family has caused.

“Oh dear child, of course, you can. God’s house is always open to anyone,” he guides you to the other side of the building where he opened a door showing a long hallway.

As you walked down the large corridor, you noticed all the doors you passed by. Some were closed and some were opened. The opened ones revealed empty rooms with a bed and nightstand. You assumed the closed doors were occupied rooms.

“Many people stay here, all for their own reasons. We have a dining hall just around the corner, baths are just past that, and you are always welcome to join sermons,” he stopped in front of a room that was at the very end of the hall. “If you need anything, we have many sisters throughout the church that will be happy to help.”

“Thank you,” you slightly bowed before entering the room.

“Of course,” he closed the door and walked to a random spot in the corridor. He placed his hand on the wall while whispering a murmur in Latin. A door opened and he entered.

He descended the spiral case of marble stairs before coming to another door. This door had carvings of so many symbols, you couldn’t count. He touched a particular one causing the door to creak open.

“You all felt it as I did,” he spoke loudly before he sat down in his designated chair.

“You wouldn’t be able to,” another pastor said sarcastically.

“Will he come?” asked a nun.

“I do not know,” sighed the pastor who showed you to your room.

“Will you protect the girl, Claude?” asked a woman who sat in the middle of the table.

“Yes.”

✨

You had fallen asleep almost seven hours ago, according to the clock that hung on the wall opposite of the bed you laid in. That was the most sleep you have gotten in about two years. Insomnia was a bitch you knew all too well. Being able to sleep for so long made you full of this energy you haven’t experienced in so long. A knock was heard at your door before a nun poked her head in.

“It’s time for supper,” she said softly.

“Thank you,” she closed the door after slightly nodding to your response.

You sighed before looking out of the window that was close to the ceiling. You slept and found a place to stay but now what? You couldn’t live here so close to him. Yes, you loved him but it was unrequited and you knew it. It’s not like you could help it. In the little time you’ve spent with him, that didn’t involve your blood, he was kind and his smile gave you a serotonin boost. The way he was gentle with the plants he had and how he disagreed with the disgusting morals of characters from a different era. All of these things made you grow feelings for the undead immortal. Maybe it was because you’ve never encountered such a personality. But who knew?

You climbed out of the bed and headed to the dining hall with the book in your hand. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a meal that wasn’t frozen or from a restaurant. You never felt like cooking even though you knew how, you just never felt like it.

The volunteers were kind as they offered you everything they had. Sticking with only the bread and stew they made, you sat down at an empty table while beginning to read the book you picked out from the store. The front and spine read Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by April Genevieve Tucholke.

Someone had sat next to you making you look at them in the corner of your eye. It was the priest from yesterday. He had a plate of his own filled with stew, bread, and rice.

“I hope I am not disturbing you,” he motioned towards the open book in front of you.

“Oh, uh, no. It’s fine,” you nodded making him smile softly.

“What brings you here?” he asked while respectfully eating his bread.

You had to think carefully about what you wanted to say. You couldn’t just tell him that a vampire had kidnapped you, but didn’t care enough to keep an eye on you.

“I ran away from home.”

“Why is that my child?”

“My father- he uh…he would hit me...a lot, so one day I ran away,” it wasn’t a complete lie. That is what had happened at the beginning of all of this. However, your town was most likely miles and miles away.

“I am sorry, my child. Do you still, um, have bruises or anything?” he was hesitant in the way he spoke hoping he wouldn’t upset you.

You nodded causing him to sigh. Some people were truly out of God’s reach and your father needed to be punished for abusing as he had.

“Where are you from?” he asked looking back at you.

“Seoul.”

“Seoul? My, that’s ways away from here. How did you get to Busan?” he was shocked by how far you have traveled and was curious how you managed to get down here. Of course, he knew how you got there but he wanted to know if you trust him or not. By how long it took you to answer, it was obvious you didn’t trust easily.

“Many many buses,” you lied through your teeth, to a priest no less. Good thing you lost faith a long long time ago.

“I see,” bells rang in the distance signifying everyone that supper time was over and it was time to either go to your room or do chores. “We’ll get you started on chores tomorrow, okay?”

You nodded once again before standing up and taking care of your tray before heading back to your temporary room. Started on chores?? How long does he think you’re staying here? Now that you know what city you’re in, it will be much easier to get back to Seoul. You just had to find a way to get back and then figure out where you were going to stay. Your mind went to the book in your hand

You laid down so the growing headache could maybe stop from spreading from your frontal lobe to the cortex. Setting your book on the table beside you, sleep was your best choice at the moment.

Candy apple eyes stared down at the pathetic looking ‘House of God’. The eyes held hatred and disgust for the building and the oh so holy salvation that occupied it. The man’s features turned sour thinking about all the bothersome puppets that have tried to kill him, more often than not.

He wasn’t here for them, no-no. He was here for you of course. At first, he didn’t even realize you had escaped. Your scent was covering every inch of his mansion so it took maybe a whole day before he realized you were gone. The vampire was in his office so he wouldn’t bite you so much. Whenever he drank your delicious blood, he felt it course through his veins, he felt the warmth he once did when he was alive, he felt. And that terrified him. He was scared of the feeling, but he didn’t want to lose it. So he spent hours and hours researching from the very scripts his ancestors and others wrote, trying to find a way to keep you forever.

Now he’s sitting there thinking, how fucking stupid could he have been to let you leave like that. All the doors had normal locks so it wouldn’t take much brainpower to figure them out. If he didn’t get you back before another creature claimed you, it would be over. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. Because you were different. He knew that. Your smell, your taste, and your personality. All of it was so entrancing and he let it slip away just like that. Maybe he was just being dramatic, but what vampire isn’t? Maybe it was a good thing you escaped. How else could he hunt for such scrumptious prey? He loved to hunt before he fed but that usually ended with his prey dying. This time, he was going to keep you. Not only for your blood but also for you. The sarcastic remarks you made had made him laugh, your smile made his unmoving heart skip, your eyes told a story that only you knew. Yeah, he wasn’t going to let you go.

The priest who had welcomed you had once again descended the marble stairs into the secret hideaway. Once the nun saw him approach she spoke loudly, “He’s already here and you’re playing tea party with the girl.”

“No need for malice, sister,” the priest sat down in his usual chair and placed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. He knew he was here. Years of training his perception had been fruitful.

“I wouldn’t need to be malicious if you would just do your job!” her voice reverberated against the walls and back to them.

The woman sitting at the head of the table cleared her throat before addressing the nun who had gotten out of line, “Do not point fingers, let alone yell in the House of God, sister.”

The nun sat back in her seat while crossing her arms. She had never encountered a vampire before and she wasn’t trying to now. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Exhaling, she stiffened. She felt powerful energy that she wasn’t able to identify.

“Hello~” Jimin stood not too far away from the table but far enough to where no one could touch him before he could move. “Let’s negotiate.”

↬ ↬ ↬

It’s been a week since you’ve arrived at the church. You haven’t seen the pastor since that awkward dinner in the hall. Maybe he realized you couldn’t be helped and decided to move onto the next person. Who would help you right? You’re just a nobody who has parents that hate you. That’s normal...it’s all you’ve ever known. You sighed as you hung up the last piece of clothing on one of the lines. Not wanting to spend all day at the church again, you decided to take the book you finished back to the store. Hopefully, the nice employee was working today.

You went back to your temporary room to grab the book before you made your way to the exit of the building. On your way to the exit, it seemed like all the nuns and pastors you’ve passed we’re trying to distract you. First, a nun had asked for help with cleaning the rooftops, which sounded like a pointless job that would take all day. So you politely declined but when she insisted you told her you can help after you take the book back to the store. Then, a pastor had asked how you’ve been feeling and if you’re comfortable in your room. Saying yes to both and walking at the same time, you were able to get out of that conversation fairly quickly. And as you placed your hand on the door, two more nuns were asking you questions about you and where were going. Thankfully, another nun held their attention while you slipped through the crack in the doors.

You let out a sigh of relief and made your way to the bookstore. It felt nice to get out of there, at least for a little while. The weather seemed windy today and the clouds were slowly becoming a dark grey. Hopefully, a storm will come by. That’s always when you slept the best no matter where you slept. You were never able to sleep well, but on nights where you could hear thunder and see flashes of lightning, it lulled you to sleep, unlike any stories or songs.

Your mind suddenly went to him. Does he like storms? You stopped walking for a second, realizing your mistake. How could you think of him like that? Your cheeks get warm before you start walking again to try and forget about him and focus on getting another book.

Who cares if he likes storms? Certainly not you, he means nothing to you...do you mean nothing to him? You sighed as you weren't able to stop wondering about the handsome man that captured you months ago. It kind of made you sad that he hasn't come to find you yet. Your thoughts had you passing the bookstore before the employee from before calls out to you, “Hey!”

You snapped your head up and looked around before your eyes landed on the person who called out to you. Looking around again, you realized you had walked by the store without noticing. Your cheeks turned red before you made your back to the store where the worker waited for you with a smile.

“I think I have one you might like,” he motioned for you to follow him to the desk. He told you to set the book in your hands on the cart to the right and slid a different one on the desk.

It read Between the Spark and the Burn, the sequel to the book you had just returned. “I didn't see this the last time I was here,” you carefully picked up the book and held it in your hand by your side.

“I noticed the book you chose so I requested it from the next town over for when you finished the first one,” he sat down on the wooden stool that was rickety and old.

“Thank you,” you said quietly while keeping your gaze anywhere but him.

It’s been a while since someone did something nice for you. You're usually the one doing things for other people. You could see him smiling in the corner of your, making you realize that you were also smiling. Your cheeks were beginning to hurt so you decided to introduce yourself, “My name’s Y/n.” Hopefully, that was the right way to begin this conversation.

“Taehyung, a pleasure,” his smile grew before he covered it with his hand.

You nodded before reluctantly walking towards the door. Just as it closed behind you Taehyung was met with somebody standing next to him. He casually looked to see who it was only to find his best friend.

“Jimin~ it's been so long since you visited!” he stood up to give Jimin a hug and Jimin reciprocated. “What brings you here?”

“Turns out, you were just flirting with the girl I was talking about,” Jimin sighed as he straightened his posture to not look as short compared to his friend.

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot and pointed his thumb towards the door where you just exited. Jimin nodded before pinning him to the wall, “And you're gonna help me get her back.”

⤐ ⤐ ⤐

“Y/n!” your name echoed throughout the spacious corridor. You turned around to see the priest waving to you while jogging to catch up to you.

...you don't remember ever telling him your name. You began to panic so you quickly made your way outside and into the garden to hide behind the large rose bushes.

You heard him calling for you but stayed behind the bushes and went deeper into the rows and rows of red and white roses. You let out a sigh before sitting on the ground more comfortably.

“Blood bag, how come you haven't come home yet?”

Your whole body stiffened, but surprisingly relaxed. But now wasn't the time to question your muscles. You looked up to see the man who you thought you wouldn't have to see again.

“I've missed you, ya know,” he crouched down so his piercing eyes could be level with yours. It reminded you of the first time you met, back in the warehouse.

You remained quiet and averted your gaze to a wilting rose at the bush behind him. What were you supposed to say to him anyway? Did you miss him too? Of course, you did, he has given you more attention than anyone in your life. Up until you had spoken to Taehyung a couple of days ago.

“Blood Bag, it’s rude to ignore me,” he cupped your face with his hands decorated with silver rings.

“You ignored me for days at a time but that doesn’t matter, does it?” your anger got the best of you, making you regret even opening your mouth. You watched as his eyes widened slightly before he smirked.

“It does matter because I was doing something very important in that office.”

“Of course, what would be more important than using me as food whenever you felt like it.”

You saw his eyebrow twitch at your smartass comment. You didn’t know what had gotten over you at that time. You were usually the pushover but it seems that something about this vampire made you want to talk back. Maybe it was the smirk on his ethereal features or maybe it was just you trying to deny your feelings for him.

“I’m gonna let that slide since there’s something else I need to talk to you about,” you stood up before you had to hear any more of this unnecessary conversation. Before you were able to take a step, you were brought back to the ground. Your back hit the hard dirt making you wince. Jimin sat on your waist with each knee on either side of you. “You have recently met a very good friend of mine without even noticing what he was. I’m afraid he wants to take you as his. So I was nice enough to come here and warn you about him. But it seems you don’t want my protection…”

He trailed off waiting for you to start begging for him to help you but it never came. His smile fell and his eyebrows furrowed. Why were you not groveling? Were you not afraid? That’s not it, he can smell the delicious fear coming off of you.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m leaving by the end of next week,” you lied hoping he wouldn’t catch it.

Jimin stared at you for a second before getting off of you. But not before giving you a quick peck to the lips. Your face burned as you looked up at the grinning blood-sucker of a man. It most definitely gave Jimin an ego boost to see you so affected by his action.

“See you later, Blood Bag,” he waved before disappearing around the corner. What you didn’t see is that Jimin had to stop after turning the corner. He held his hand over the left side of his chest. It hurt. His chest was in pain. Like his heart was beating once again. The cold skin of his cheeks flushed while he felt like his lungs were actually working. If this was what it felt like just to kiss you, imagine what it would feel like to...Jimin had to stop himself. No need to let his mind go too far until you’ve fallen for him. And he was confident you would.

You finally willed your legs to get up and move to hurry to your room. You stopped when you passed an opening leading to the street in front of the church. You didn’t want to give Jimin or the priest time to find you again, so you made your way back to the bookstore.

When you got there you opened the door and your eyes instantly landed on Taehyung...and his bruised cheek above a busted lip. You stopped in your tracks making Taehyung look at you.

“Done with the book already?” a smile stretched across his face making him mumble ‘ow’.

“What happened to you?”

“Just a little friendly brawl.”

“In fifteen minutes?”

“Lots can happen in fifteen minutes.”

You shook your read to get your thoughts focused, “I came here to ask you if there was a bus or a train that left the town today.”

“Hmmm, I’m pretty sure the next train outta here isn’t for another two days,” Taehyung lied without hesitation. The next train left today in thirty minutes and wouldn’t be back until next week. He didn’t want another beating from Jimin.

“Oh, well thanks. I’ll have the book back by then,” you nodded before heading back to the church. What were you supposed to do for the next two days?

Once you made it back to the church you headed straight to your room to find the priest sitting in the wooden chair. He told you to have a seat on your bed after you closed the door.

He cleared his throat, “So you obviously seem uncomfortable around me and I apologize for whatever I have done to make you feel that way.”

Your eyes were on the book in your hand before you quietly replied, “I just never remembered telling you my name so I panicked. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I should’ve been more careful,” he saw your confused expression before continuing. “I am no ordinary priest. I am a...protector of sorts. I protect people from supernatural creatures of all kinds.”

Your eyes looked into his, and his were telling you he knew about the vampire that had kept in his home. Of course, he knew, this made you breathe out a laugh, “So you know about him.”

“I do.”

“You know, I was able to walk out the front door of his house like it was nothing,” Claude’s eyebrows raised in shock. You nodded, “He was so deeply in his work while in his office, I was able to walk out of there. But now he knows I’m here and I need to find a way out of here.”

“I can help with that. The train that transports out of town leaves in twenty minutes. I can get you there along with a ticket straight back home. If that is what you wish.”

It only took you a few seconds to register his offer and you quickly nodded and followed him out the door. All while leaving the book from Taehyung on the bed.

“What’s your name?” you asked while trying to keep up with the man that has been trying to help you for the past week and a half.

“Claude.”

He looked around the corridor before muttering the Latin mantra for the hidden door to open. Claude had to come back up a few stairs to grab your wrist to lead you down the stairs. You had unknowingly frozen in place after seeing the wall slide open to a set of stairs.

“Do all churches have a basement like this?”

“Not all, we’re one of the few that do.”

“So cool,” you whispered as you skimmed all the symbols and words that were engraved into the walls.

“There’s a tunnel that leads straight to the station. We don’t want you to miss the train, the next one won’t be here for another week,” Claude explained all while hurriedly walking down the tunnel.

You didn’t want to think about how Taehyung lied to you and how you didn’t realize that he was the friend Jimin was referring to. Just then, passed the room where you could see people sitting around a large dark wood table.

“Are we not going to talk about how you guys have a literal l a i r down here?”

“Nope.”

“Alrighty.”

Claude had led you up a flight of stairs that lead to the back of a building. You couldn’t tell what kind it was until the two of you walked up the side to the front. The large sign read Train Station. There were many benches set out but only two other people were waiting to get on the train. Claude had just realized he still had a grip on your hand but luckily you didn’t seem to mind as you read all the signs telling you the train’s schedule.

Claude paid for your ticket to Seoul before having you sit down on a bench close to the entrance gate. He looked around to make sure Jimin was nowhere in sight. Then he would glance back at you to make sure you were still there. The loud whistle of the train made it to your ears before you stood up and watched as it slowed to a stop.

“I have nowhere to stay up there,” you paused in front of the bench and started at the open door showing a few metal stairs.

“You do,” he brought a piece of paper from his pants pocket and gently set it in your hand. He nodded towards the train, motioning for you to get on before it leaves.

You thank him before boarding the locomotive and taking a seat in the designated section. Your seat was on the side of the station. Looking out to see Claude waving and smiling at you through the window. No one else was around him, nobody had gotten off and the few people that were waiting were already boarded. You waved back before your blood ran cold.

Claude’s neck was snapped right before your very eyes. His now lifeless body fell to the ground, in what felt like slow motion. The one person that had been helping you from the kindness of his heart, lied on the floor, dead.

Through your teary eyes, you saw it was Taehyung. His face showed no emotion, not even as he stared into your sorrowful eyes. As you went to stand, the train began to move and when you looked back to where Taehyung was standing, he was gone.

🩸🩸🩸

You rushed off of the train and hurriedly went to find whatever stood at the address Claude had given to you. Your head constantly went from side to side, causing a headache to form. But you didn't want the pounding of your brain against your skull to be the reason you were caught.

Finally, you ended up at the place where you met Jimin. The warehouse still appeared worn down and abandoned. Nothing had changed since you last saw it, except for the door. The door used to be blocked by wooden planks but now, it was a sleek and elegant carved piece of wood. There laid a door knocker that looked to be recently polished, in the shape of a cross.

You hesitated in reaching for the knocker and just as your fingers touched the cool metal, Taehyung interrupted. You spun around to see him even more beaten than the time before. When you went to knock again the door was gone, and the old wooden beams replaced them. You froze, that was going to be where Claude promised safety. Now you met with the thing that killed him. The thing you had considered your friend for only a short period of time.

“I didn't wanna hurt you like this, ya know. I really did want to be friends with you, and maybe even one day be more than that. Because you seem like a great person and-” he stopped talking once he noticed you had slipped through the wood and into the building. He sighed before following you in.

You wondered if there was even a point in trying to hide from him. He obviously wasn't human so he could track you down in seconds. Yet, you still went to hide in the room where you saw Jimin feeding on that stranger. And after months, her body was still there. Rotting and decaying. You gagged before exiting the room quickly.

Taehyung was right there, causing you to run into him. He held you close as you tried to pull away. He rolled his eyes as you struggled, irritated you wouldn't listen to his practiced speech all while running away. It was clear Jimin had no issue throwing punches towards his friend. Even though they were the same age physically, Jimin had been alive for much longer than he had.

You attempted to pull all your weight back as Taehyung dragged you down the stairs and to the entrance. Suddenly, you went flying back onto your ass as Taehyung’s grip left your arm. Your gaze landed on Jimin wrestling with Taehyung on the concrete floor. You looked around to find another door but there wasn't one that you could see. You didn't want to wander the building and get lost, but you also didn't want to wait for the two supernatural beings to be done with their fight.

You let out a shaky breath after realizing you're going to have to sneak past and get to the entrance. Your legs trembled as you slowly made your way around the two that were yelling at each other. Threats and fists, along with knees, we're thrown back and forth. When you got to the entrance you heard a sickening thud. It wasn't someone falling on the ground or one being thrown. No, the thud had an underlying crack to it. Turning around, you saw dark crimson ooze from Taehyung’s skull.

He was face down, making the sight easier for you to stomach. If you were able to see the look on his face and the emptiness of his eyes, you wouldn't be able to sleep again.

Jimin picked you up by your biceps, making sure you were as close to him as possible. He rested his forehead against yours. He bit his and leaned in for a kiss. Jimin kissed you over and over again until every inch of your face had met the touch of his pillowy lips. lip

“So tell me, Blood Bag, are you ready to spend an eternity with me?”

[fandomlovingfreak]

Incidentally In Love (10/?)

Charlie Weasley/Reader

Rating: Mature / Lemon ( Triggers: pregnancy )

Word Count: 2580

MasterList Link I AO3 Link

Summary: Sleeping with Charlie Weasley was easy. He was charming, and handsome, and was quite talented in bed... Finding out you're pregnant with your casual fuck buddies baby was not easy.

Reader's journey through co-parenting, an overbearing Molly Weasley who wants reader to marry her son to give the baby a "real family", and maybe falling a tiny bit in love with her baby daddy.

Notes: I’m so nervous to post lemon fics/chapters because I’m never sure I’m good at it...but this is a lemon chapter. 

Also not tagging anyone in this chapter since it is mature and I don’t know if it would make someone uncomfortable to read! 

Enjoy 

Charlie's reading another one of his new father books as we sit on the couch. He's got a hand lounging lazily on my stomach, his thumb tracing circles over my thin maternity shirt. The baby kicks up towards Charlie's hand. He grins, lightly tapping back. Three rapid kicks respond in seconds, and again Charlie responds with his own taps.

"Charles," I look up from my own book, "stop riling them up."

"Sorry, love," he grins, rubbing again at my swollen stomach. He looks down at his book once more, obviously distracted by the softer kicks the baby places under his fingers. The child refuses to give up on their game.

I set my book down on the arm of the couch, "I have to get up. You and your child's games are distracting me from my reading."

Charlie chuckles, "It's cute, though, the way she's playing."

"Maybe to you. You're not the one getting elbowed in the bladder every time they kick back to your tapping."

"Sorry," He stands, helping me up from the couch. I lean towards him, silently begging for a kiss. Charlie grins broadly before pressing a quick kiss to my lips. 

"It's alright. Really if they weren't causing me pain, it would be cute. Once they're out, it'll be more adorable." I brush aside a lock of his hair from his forehead.

Charlie's face pinkens, "Truthfully, I'm a little afraid of that."

I frown slightly, "Of--?"

He exhales shakily, "I guess of everything after the birth? Well, and that bit as well."

"Yeah? What about it? You can tell me. I'm also nervous about well--about everything, honestly."

"What if I'm not a good dad?"

I cup his cheek, "You're going to be the best dad. Trust me. I can tell."

Charlie leans into my touch, "But how?"

"Well--" I rub my thumb gently against his cheekbone, "you're so gentle and thoughtful. And so caring, Charlie. You take such good care of me, darling."

He maneuvers his face to press a kiss to the palm of my hand, "I love you."

The words shock me, not because what he's said is terrible or anything, but because I feel the same way. Going from casual fuck buddies to expecting parents and then into a relationship in the short amount of time we've done all three feels incredibly fast. But I can think of a thousand instances where I felt something more than friendship or companionship with Charlie. He was my rock in most situations, always made sure I was comfortable and happy... 

Charlie looks shocked himself, immediately trying to backpedal, "I--I didn't mean to spring that on you..."

"You love me?"

He goes beet red to the roots of his overgrown hair, "I do? But I know that you don't feel the same way right now--"

"Don't put words into my mouth, Charlie Weasley."

He cocks an eyebrow, "Yeah?"

"I'm so madly in love with you," I try to close the space between us, the bump hindering my attempts.

His eyes widen, cheeks burning in seconds, "You love me?"

I nod, feeling embarrassed. "I love you."

Charlie's got me caught up in his arms instantly, "I love you. I love you so much. I think I was falling for you before the baby--And it sort of killed me that you were so insistent that we were nothing, (y/n), because I love you--"

I giggle, inhaling his earthy, cinnamony cologne, "I'm sorry for that, Charlie. I just didn't want every part of my life to change--"

"I know. And I understand why you said no to getting married. I don't think that would've been right for us, but my god, woman. I never want to be apart from you."

"Yeah?" my eyes flicker down to his lips.

"Never. Everyone's going to have to deal with however we decide to do life. I just want to be with you. If I'm with you, I'll be content."

I can't help the tears that prick at my eyes, "Charlie." They spill rapidly from my eyes.

"Don't cry, darling," his thumbs brush against my cheeks, collecting the tears delicately from my eyes.

"You're so sweet, and I'm so pregnant." I laugh, trying to wipe away my own tears.

Charlie's chuckles accompany mine, "Don't get me started on that. Gods, I wouldn't have imagined in a million years that I'd ever get to experience having a family of my own. And you're so perfect--and you look damn good like this."

I roll my eyes, "When you talk about how good I look pregnant, I suspect this was some elaborate plan--"

Charlie grins, "I wish I had been smart enough to plan this." He places his hands on my stomach.

"Charlie!" I smack his chest, playfully, "just be happy it did. There's no way in hell I'd have let you put this baby in me if it hadn't happened on accident."

"I would've wooed you. Turned our little arrangement into something more..." Charlie kisses me again, "well, I would've done things more properly." 

"Made an honest woman out of me?" I tease as I begin to feel the familiar tight knot in my lower stomach. There was nothing hotter than Charlie Weasley falling victim to his primal desires as he told me exactly how he would have done things. His light blue eyes are nearly hidden by his lust blown pupils as he caresses my arms.

Charlie continues to kiss me, "Gods, yes." The way he grips at my waist confirms to me he's in a similar state as myself.

"I love you," I say between kisses.

"Let me show you how much I love you," he's got his fingers at the edge of my shirt, begging to lift the material from my skin.

"Yes, please." My shirt comes off in a hurry. 

"I'm going to thoroughly ravish you," Charlie kisses my neck. Groaning, I place my hand under his shirt below his navel, letting it slowly travel down to his belt. I tug on the worn brown leather, flicking my eyes up to his.

"Merlin--you're such a pretty little thing. So good for me."

A little smile tugs at the corners of my lips, "Yeah?"

"Yes. Always." He grins, a slightly cold hand finding my breast. The temperature of his palm has the bud stiffening instantaneously. 

"Take your shirt off."

Charlie's white undershirt is off in seconds. He gently yet firmly pulls me towards our bedroom door. "Get on the bed, darling."

I sit down on the edge of the bed slowly, mindful of my stomach's extra weight as Charlie watches like a hawk. He stalks towards me as I reach out for him, my hands coming to rest on his bare abdomen.

"What are you going to do to me?" My hand again, slyly reaching for his belt. 

"Whatever you want, darling. My only goal is to make sure your toes are curling because you've been properly fucked."

"Oh god, Charlie..." I feel incredibly flustered by his words.

"You like that, baby?" His fingers graze my jaw, landing lovingly on my chin. 

I nod frantically, "Yes. So much. You know exactly how to play me with your words Charles."

He chuckles, "I should. I've been doing it for months."

"Not like this," I pull him inches from my lips, only stopping to speak, "this--very attractive persona you've put together for yourself is very new for me. And I love it."

Charlie grins, leaning in to kiss me, "what do you want first?"

"Your tongue," leaning back on my arms, I pull him down to the bed with me. Charlie's arms hold his weight on his arms as he hovers above me. I frown, missing the weight of his chest against mine. It's been near impossible for months now, and Charlie won't risk even the slightest amount of his weight being put on me.

"Careful, love. I don't want to crush junior."

I roll my eyes, "Okay, okay. I desperately need you to do something, Charles."

He presses his lips underneath my jaw, chuckling lowly before he's pulling down my jeans. "Eager, are we?"

"Obviously," I try to reach behind my back to unclasp my bra.

"I got you," he reaches behind me, practiced fingers get the clasp unhooked in seconds. He sits up to admire my body. "Look so good--"

Embarrassed, I look away. Charlie grabs my chin gently, making me look up at him, "I'm serious. You're a goddess."

I giggle, "you think?"

"Think? Darling, I know. Look at you, you're perfect. Bred and glowing."

I smack his chest playfully, completely embarrassed now, "bred? Really?"

He grins, "Yes. There's no other way to describe it. You look perfect."

I giggle, "Geez, Weasley. You're something else."

"Let me get these off," he pulls at the edge of my jeans, asking for permission. (y/n) nods. He pulls them off along with her panties. "You're soaking, darling." Charlie can't help but run a finger through my glistening core. He also can't seem to help himself as he moves my legs further apart to lick a strip up my drenched core.

"Oh!" my fingers pull at his hair, "yes!"

Charlie chuckles, latching onto my engorged clit, sucking as he inserts a finger into my entrance.

"Charles," my hips grind against his mouth, looking for more friction.

"Use your words, love."

"More! Fuck--Charlie, please. Another finger." He happily obliges, removing his index finger and replacing it with his middle and ring finger. Charlie continues to stretch my drenched sex as he sucks on my clit.

"Oh my god--" 

"Cum on my tongue (y/n)." He glances up, met by the sight of my swollen stomach. Charlie chuckles at the view, the vibrations pushing me over the edge. My thighs clamp down around his head as I ride out my climax.

"Merlin, have I ever told you how talented your tongue is?" I lean up on my elbows to peak over my stomach at him. Charlie leans up to catch my gaze. His hair is messy from my fingers, and his cheeks are tinted with pink.

"At least a thousand times." Charlie laughs before pressing a kiss to the underside of my stomach, "what would be most comfortable for you, darling." I think about it for a second, wanting nothing more than to be able to move how I liked but knowing my current limitations.

"from behind," I struggle to sit up fully.

"Are you sure? We haven't--well, tried that position for a month now. Are you sure it's safe?"

"It'll be the least weight put on my stomach." I take his held out hand, and he pulls me to a standing position. With lustful eyes, Charlie watches as I crawl back up the bed, completely aware of how my body is displayed for him. I subtly move my hips, hoping to entice him further.

He quickly climbs up behind me, relishing in the soft plushness of my ass. "Just to be safe, put a few pillows underneath your stomach, (y/n)."

"Planning to be rough, are we?" I turn my head to look at him, a small, teasing smile painted on my face.

Charlie rolls his eyes, a grin plastered on his face, "I'll be more comfortable knowing there's something there to catch you a bit." He begins to remove his trousers and underwear, throwing them on the floor.

I groan, "fine." Pulling some of our pillows underneath my body, I turn my head to look at him, "are you happy?"

"Yes," Charlie leans over my frame, pressing a quick kiss to my lips, then to the top of my shoulder. The affection causes a shiver up my spine. I hear him casting a wandless lubrication spell quickly. The wetness of the artificial lubricant suddenly inside of me causes me to yelp in surprise.

"Sorry, love. Should've warned ya." he dips two fingers in my sex to coat his cock. 

"It's okay," I laugh.

I hear him stroke himself a couple times before he brushes the tip of his cock against the wetness between my thighs. The slow stretch of him entering me is divine. Charlie maneuvers our bodies so that he's got his arms by mine, his chest pressed lightly against my back as he bottoms out. Leaving himself full access to my neck and breasts.

"Gods, you always feel so big like this--" I've got my head hanging loosely between shoulders arms, feeling utterly wrecked already.

Charlie thrusts a few times shallowly. Setting a rhythm a lot closer to grinding than anything else. He's always thinking of me, knowing how sensitive my body was right now. I'm a moaning mess in moments, begging him to make me cum on his cock. The fluttery feeling in my stomach lights up with every grinding movement of his pelvis against my ass. Charlie reaches below my swollen belly to circle my clit.

"Yes!" I sob out a string of curses as he pushes me over the edge with his expert fingers. His hips stutter a few times, and I know he's holding off from cumming as my body convulses around his. He presses a kiss to my neck, maneuvering my compliant body onto the bed. He's got my back pressed against his chest, his cock, drenched with cum and lubricant, pressed against the back of my thigh.

"Think you can manage another?" he asks, pressing light kisses to my shoulder and neck. I nod, reaching my arm to weave my fingers through his red hair.

"Words, love." He smiles against the back of my neck.

"Make me cum again, Charlie...I want you to fill me up with your cum--"

Charlie groans, "anything for you, baby." Without missing a beat, he fills me again, "can be a little rougher with ya like this--" he grunts, his hands grabbing for my thigh. He drags it up to his hip, "keep your leg here, understand?"

"Yes, yes--" I rest my head on the pillow below, surrendering my body to his ministrations. Charlie gets back to work, his pace demanding as he plays with my body. 

I turn my body enough to connect our lips in a messy, desperate kiss. "You're so good--so good to me," I can't help but mumble between the heat of our kiss. Charlie's large hands play with my breast's softness as he kisses me back, paying particular attention to my nipple. A spike of pain at his groping causes a whimper to leave my lips.

"Does that hurt?" he asks, his hand coming to rest upon my stomach instead.

"A little bit..." I admit, cupping his jaw to press another kiss to his lips, "are you close?"

Charlie nods, his breath stuttering as I clamp down on him, playfully, "gods, you're incredibly tight." I giggle. It's a short-lived giggle, dying on my lips as his hand snakes down to my clit again. "Need to feel you cum on my cock one last time, though."

I nod frantically, my hands finding my sensitive breasts as he applies steady pressure to my aching clit. "So good--" I've got my eyes shut tightly as I gush praises about how good he is, how he fills me perfectly, how only he can reach exactly the right places inside me that make me cum harder than ever before... I'm quickly coming, my mouth slightly agape in a silent scream as I ride out my orgasm. That's it for him.

"Shit--" he leans his forehead against my shoulder as he cums hard inside of me.

[echo-of-sounds]

hypersensitivities

How Aizawa, Toshinori, and Hizashi would help and support their s/o with hypersensitivities.

While hypersensitivities can be caused by many things (both mental and physical), mine are from ADHD and anxiety. I believe I kept these as general as possible so others can relate even if their issues aren’t caused by the same things as mine.

Aizawa Shouta

Aizawa’s the least picky person out there. Come home with a different smelling shampoo for him or a new comforter made out of your preferred material and he won’t bat an eye. If it works, he’s fine with it.

Rubbing. Digging. Scruffing. Itching. Constricting. You just can’t get away from it. There’s always something touching you. It makes your entire being uncomfortable and agitated. He’ll ask if there’s anything he can do. He knows you sometimes need space to breathe and calm yourself. Those times when you want someone to help, he’s there. If you need your weighted blanket, he can find it. If you need shea butter lotion, he can apply it. If you just need some skin-to-skin contact, he can provide it. Anything to get you to stop scratching and pulling at yourself, he’ll do because he hates seeing you so visibly distraught.

Having a strong sense of taste and an aversion to textiles can lead to a difficult food life. Onions are fine if they’re in this dish, prepared this way. Tomatoes, mushrooms, and bananas? Gooey and slimy. Seafood? Beans? Never. It’s frustrating to just eat. While Aizawa’s no connoisseur or nutritionist, he can (surprisingly) cook pretty well. And he sticks to plain, easy dishes. It’s great when you’re essentially limited to bread, some kinds of pasta, and some fruits and meats. He can help with any simple soups and basic meat dishes. 

If a truck’s horn or that ridiculously high pitch buzzing finally breaks your ears down to the point you’re crying, find Shouta. He’s always willing to cuddle. Even more so when you need comforting. He’s so safe and secure. Hands will stroke circles while lips kiss your temple. If you have to play rain or ocean sounds in your earbuds or from your phone, he’ll lay in bed with you, keeping you locked to him, and press kisses all over.

Whenever you leave the house, he reminds you to bring any glasses that you need: FL-41 for light sensitivity, blue blockers for computer screens, even category 4 sunglasses if your eyes need that amount of protection. He always remembers. You’ll be at the mall, squinting from the horrible fluorescents, and he’ll pull them out of his pocket for you.

His hair is perfect for hiding in when you’re out in public. It’s thick and smells like him. And while he dislikes PDA, he does make exceptions. Whenever you need a break from the lights, just turn into him, rest against his chest, and his hair will fall over your eyes. He’ll hold you close, patiently waiting for you to be ready to continue.

Please, never feel high-maintenance. If anything, having you in his life makes him more attentive to himself. He’ll eat better from any meal plans. He’ll clean his place more often so it’s enjoyable for you. He is especially aware of what cleaning supplies and detergent he uses. He just becomes considerate of how you’re in his life and what he does because he loves you.

Yagi Toshinori

Toshi developed a love for cooking. With his injury, his nutritional needs changed, so he’s learned to cook well to avoid constantly buying expensive foods. Any aversions you have, whether it be texture, smell, or taste, he’ll avoid. Can the slightest change in the sauce throw the whole dish off? His measurements are as precise as can be. Lettuce is fine, but spinach, cabbage, and parsley? It’s basically paper in your mouth. He’ll find recipes that include just lettuce and your preferred vegetables. You’ll come home to another new dish he made to surprise you.

Textile sensitivities are difficult to deal with. And clothes shopping becomes the worst task of them all. You have to test the fabric, the seams, where the tag is, how the shoulders and neck sit, the sleeve tightness, everything. Toshi will keep a list of the exact materials you like for blankets, pillows, towels, carpets, and clothing. And it doesn’t stop there. Is stoneware and glass dinnerware too irritating on your fingers? His next investment his wooden or metal dinnerware. Is cold press and rough drawing paper uncomfortable? He’ll be on the lookout for specific hot press paper.

The only thing he uses that smells is his cologne. It’s simple and never overwhelming. But if you need a different scent, he’s more than willing to go to the store with you so you can pick out something you like. 

Any scents that calm you, candles, incense, and those air freshener crystal beads, will be that scent. Vanilla or lavender. Maybe there’s some obscure scent you can only dig up online? Oh, he’ll find it. It’s incomprehensible how much he loves you. And your comfort is vital. Because if you can’t feel comfortable in your own home, then something’s seriously wrong.

The lightbulbs in your place are always free for you to change. If incandescent bulbs are what you need in the living room, buy them and change them out. If green LED lights help with migraines and pain, put them in the lamp near your bed while you rest. Install smart lighting so you can dim and change the lights whenever you need to. Toshi doesn’t care about the expenses. If it helps and protects your eyes, then money means nothing to him.

It doesn’t help that his smile is just so darn bright.

Overstimulation takes over so suddenly. You’re sitting in the living room, reading, when all of a sudden, the TV and microwave throws your hearing off, your bra becomes a boa constrictor and it’s only tightening, the flowers, food, and candles engulfs your entire being. It’s throttling, smothering, and you can’t escape. You’re left to drown. 

The minute you’re scratching, rocking, or crying, he’s prepared. Is your dog fluffy and grounding? Toshi brings her over. Do you need a hot or cold shower? It’s already running. Is fresh air the best for you? He’s walking you to the balcony or roof for a break. He can stay with you or leave you alone.

Yamada Hizashi

Hizashi is a little bit of a picky eater too. Certain vegetables and sauces like tartar, guacamole, and harissa bother him, especially if the sauces are chunky. He prefers smoother dressings/sauces. So he completely understands any food aversions you have and never makes you feel guilty for being picky. He spends extra care when choosing what restaurants to go to and what he picks up for takeout.

He loves jewelry, not just wearing it, but on his partner too: necklaces that highlight your collarbones and rings that emphasize your fingers. He wants to buy you jewelry and hates that you don’t like it. He isn’t mad at you or your preferences but at how uncomfortable you get in your own skin. He wants you to feel great. And those mornings where you change outfits nine times until you finally find something that isn’t suffocating, his heart breaks.

You can bet he’ll come home with five bras and ten shirts he found that he knows you’ll like. The shirts are soft and the exact size and shape you want with no annoying frills, buttons, or ties. The bras are cute and never have tight, prodding wires or scratchy lace. He’s like a bloodhound when he’s at the store. One whiff of a good pair of pants and he’s ransacking the isles for more like it. He wants you feeling cozy, comfortable, and sexy!

A lot of gum goes in his mouth. His breath and taste is always something. But mint is powerful. There are too many kinds- spearmint, peppermint, winter-something, sweet-whatever, polar-anything. They’re overwhelming, upset your stomach, soak into your tongue, and cling to your clothes. You’ll smell it long after he gives you a kiss. To help, Hizashi will buy literally every flavor of gum there is and let you pick the ones you like. Bubblegum? Classic. Berry Blast? He loves fruit! Apple Pie or Confetti Cake Pop? Odd choice but he can dig it!

Noise sensitivities will be a little tough to manage when living with him. And it’s not his quirk that’s the problem. He’s just a noisy guy. He’s bumping things, knocking them over. He hums, pops, and sings all the time. Music or instruments are often playing somewhere in the apartment. Sound canceling headphones would be a good investment because it’s near impossible for him to just stop making noise. It's ingrained in him. Though there will be days when he’s almost completely quiet so he can spend time with you… and press kisses all over your face.

If you need sunglasses, Hizashi is your guy. Styles, tints, frames, colors, he’ll make sure your eyes are protected and you look perfect. In your home, he’ll cover up any reflective or bright surfaces that bother you: throwing a blanket over the refrigerator and getting blackout curtains. And if you need the often dreaded eyedrops, he’ll apply them for you. He’ll reward you with chocolate and kisses.

Since he’s so in tune with his partner’s emotions, he can notice when you’re starting to get overstimulated. Your voice may get sharper. You're itching your arm till it’s red. Your squinting and tilting away from certain sounds. He’ll recommend you take a break. Go lay down with the cat. Read a book under your weighted blanket. Burn some candles while in the bath. He’ll massage lotion into your back after for extra comfort.

[rory-for-short]

New Crossings New Horizons: Part 3

TELL ME WHY I DECIED TO MAKE PART THREE THE START OF A SLOW BURN PLOT WITH NOOK AND THE READER I HATE MYSELF BUT ALSO IM HAVING FUN. 

So the plan is to make a community out of this island over the span of one summer and a fall semester. Nook had explained that there were more generators arriving in the nest few days. It was up to you all to figure out how housing would work. The list went on and on from pod homes, tiny houses, campers, and prefab homes. Tiny homes won. With a stipulation. We would start with them, then upgrade to prefabs later on. It would be easier to run tiny homes with the starting generators until we could figure out an electricity grid, and work on a plumbing/ well system for now. Nook seemed happy with this decision, and in the meantime, you and Cherry went out to collect wood and supplies while Apollo and Bob offered to find food.

“Hey imma trap some bears maybe there will be a zoo eventually,” announced Timmy jokingly.

“You and what bear trap,” Tommy snickered.

“I have several yards of rope, that's all I need,” Timmy smirked, uncoiling some thick rope from a knot.

“You kids be careful and stay close to camp. Me and Y/N are going south to find some wood,” Cherry informed.

You had already gotten some rope and packs yourself so that you could tie up logs into a bunch for easier carrying.

“Me and Bob are setting up snares to the west. All for small game but still, watch your footing if you are going up our way,” Apollo warned before everyone parted ways. You and Cherry managed to not only find wood, but also collected a tote of wild strawberries. Soon evening was upon you. Cherry mentioned heading back now before it got too dark, so the two of you started heading back. You were walking in front of Cherry leading your way back to camp when you lost your footing and found yourself stepping in a snare. Apollo and Bob must have really covered their ground, because you two were nowhere near the west of camp. Yet here you were, dangling and suspended ten feet off the ground from a tree.

“Y?N! Are you alright?” Cherry exclaimed as she ran for you dropping strawberry filled tote and running towards your dangling form.

“Yeah, I think I’m good...Just hanging around,” you smirked half expecting a rim shot. “It looks like the guys had covered more area than we thought,” you reasoned. Your current position was impressive, and uncomfortable. There was currently a rope around your arms and torso that made moving your arms impossible. At least you weren’t hanging by the neck. You could deal with some rope across your chest and restraining your arms as long as you could breath. You counted that as a blessing.

“Do you see a place to cut me down?” you called to her. Cherry began to scurry around the base of the trunk and nearby trees.

“I don't see any rope down here. It’s like it's on you and the branch and just nothing. There should be some rope down here for easy release right?,” the small girl panicked as she darted to and fro, hurriedly searching for the end of the rope to cut you down. Yet nothing was found. Great. You sighed in frustration. As cool of a trap as it was, you could feel your arms being construed and knew you’d have bruising from the rough rope.

“Go get the guys at camp. They can get me down, they set the trap afterall. But be quick it's getting dark,” you warned. Cherry nodded and sped towards camp. Hopefully she could get to them fast and not leave you dangling all night. Not five minutes after she disappeared, you began hearing rustling in bushes. The hairs on your neck stood up.

“ah-Apollo? That you?” you asked meekly. No reply. To be fair it was a bit windy, and you reasoned that you being alone at night with visibility getting lower, you were starting to be on edge. However, that didn't keep your eyes from darting to every little sound. Ten minutes in and your arms really started to hurt. Not to mention it was getting dark-dark, not just late-evening-dark. Just then, you saw a flashlight coming from the direction of camp moving steadily towards you

“Y/N! Kid! Where are you?” called the voice of none other than Tom Nook. Well thank you for the backup, Cherry, but what luck would Nook have at figuring out an Apollo snare?

“Over here Mr. Nook!” you call meekly from the tree severely doubting Cherry’s judgment at the moment. His flashlight beam landed on you and you squinted at the sudden change of light.

“Oh thank god! I'll have you down in a minute kid, don't you worry,” he said voice dripping with concern. You weren’t really worried about being stuck up here all night, except for the fact you had no idea where the rope release was.

“Cherry couldn’t find the release. I doubt you'll have much luck in the dark Mr. Nook” you reasoned.

“Who do you think taught Timmy to set a trap? Don't worry, the end of the rope should be about shoulder height on one of these trees behind you.” he explained as he disappeared into the shadows behind you.

“Timmy?! I thought this had to be Apollo’s handy work,” you were slightly impressed and it was notable in your tone..

“Don’t tell Timmy that. I’ll go straight to his head. Okay Y/N, get ready and brace yourself,”

“Do wha-” and at that you were crashing down ten feet to the ground. You landed awkwardly on your heel at an angle and yelped a bit in both pain and surprise. Tom Nook was beside you in a blink.

A look of worry stained his features as he knelt near you. You were trying to shrug off the now significantly looser rope. Red marks and bruises were already forming on your upper arms and forearms.Pain surged through your foot. A look of horror washed over your face as you feared it might be sprained, rolled, or worse, broken.

“Sorry that landing sounded rough. Here, let me help you up. Your arms aren't looking too good either,” he noted as he scanned your bruised arms. He extended his hand to help you on your feet when pain shot through your leg, calf and foot. You winced and your step faltered. Tom noticed and held your arm a little tighter.

“You landed bad didn’t you? You think you can make it back to camp on that ankle?”

You hesitated a moment before answering.

“Uh, ye-yes I’ll be fine,” you said through gritted teeth as you tried to adjust your steps to be less painful. However, your attempted step caused another shrug of pain all the way from the heel of your foot up your calf. You suppressed a yelp. Your eyes, now watering from the injured muscles that betrayed you, met Nooks and you could tell he knew you weren’t actually all that fine.. You sheepishly looked down and away.

“You can’t walk back, can you?” he sighed. It was more of a statement than a question. A beat of silence fell between you and he finally resolved.

“Alright, I’m too old for bridal style so you’ll have to get on behind me,” he reasoned.

“What? No,- come on we can try walking-” but the ankle was already starting to swell and Nook gave you that Dadtm look that stopped you dead in the middle of your sentence.  A look he probably mastered by practicing it on Timmy and Tommy. The kind that said ‘I’m not arguing kid, do as I say’. You sighed as he crouched in front of you. You reached your arms around his shoulders and despite claiming to be an old man, he lifted you pretty effortlessly. Which should have taken more effort, you were a full grown woman after all. You, at this point, were red in the face and you knew it. It was a pretty embarrassing predicament, having the decider of your future employment carry you on his back through the woods like some kid that scraped their knee. How were you gonna hide the red face at camp? You didn’t know, but hoped everyone would be in bed already.

“Sorry Mr. Nook, I should have been more careful,” you muttered into his shoulder. You felt his chuckle resonate through his back and into your chest.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I was the one who dropped you too suddenly after all… and everyone calls me Nook or Tom. You don't have to call me ‘mister nook’ you know,” he answered softly.

You nodded into his shoulder and you both approached the camp. You saw everyone waiting on the two of you sitting around the fire with cooked fish and rabbit.

“Oh great. Looks like he managed to break her further,” Timmy laughed, elbowing Tommy. Nook shot Timmy a glare.

“I got her out of the “bear trap” YOU set. Really Timmy, if you are going to set snares, annonce them to the general populace so no one gets hurt,” Nook scolded with you still on his back, as he walked over to where everyone was sitting and eating. Red face was a go, but you could probably blame it on the injury and fire light. Nook helped you to sit on the log seating as Bob handed a plate your way. AT\t that moment you realize just how hungry you were.

“Catch of the day, besides you of course,” Bob snickered and you gave a light laugh.

“First I gotta splint up this ankle,” you explained.

“Ill get the first aid kit,” Cherry offered and scampered towards the main tent. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Nook a few inches from Timmys face, looking like he was hardcore chewing him ou in a hushed tonet. Now it was Timmy's turn to be embarrassed.

[spice-chan]

A Christmas Present

Hitoshi Shinsou x reader

It’s time for Shinsou to get his feelings across, what better time then Christmas, the day of blessings and magic ?

Soulmate au, coffee shop au.

Word count: 3200

This is written for the secret santa event, for @what-the-censored-xd I hope you enjoy this and merry Christmas!!

warnings - misunderstandings and a teeny bit of angst

.....................................................

A soulmate. A gift all the quirky individuals of this world have been gifted with. 

With a mark on your wrist indicating who the individual is, the circumstances, perhaps the time. It’s pretty ambiguous, and the thought of missing the fated person is an ever present fear on most people’s mind. At least yours. 

It’s rather plain, sweet, but plain. Easy to be overshadowed by the more gaudy, exquisite, or creative soul marks. It's a dark brown, a darker shade than the earth, but lighter than a macchiato, and its heart shaped. A tiny heart, like the one that often adorns the textbook of bored teens who opted to doodle in class. Still, looking at it never failed to bring a smile to your face. 

It’s almost as if you have a premonition that it’s going to bring you something magical. 

With those thoughts in mind, you entered the coffee shop, the red ribboned bell at the door making a semi loud jingling sound that alerted the workers of your presence, causing smiles to plaster across their faces. Some looked easy, as real and carefree as breathing, some looking more stiff, almost unnatural on the beholders face. However, one stood out in particular. 

Purple, and appearing like cotton candy in softness, hair, with equally gorgeous lavender eyes that sported bluish semi circles underneath. And a face devoid of a smile, his lips set in a straight line. Bored, uninterested, even sad. 

“What would you like to order ?” You were startled for a second, taken aback when his lips parted for his monotone tone to slip out from between the cracks. Your cheeks felt hot, realising that you’d walked all the way to the cashier without realising. 

“Latte, please. With cream on top. Thanks” You replied nonchalantly, pretending that you weren’t ogling him. You definitely weren’t. 

He hummed, his lavender eyes zeroing in on you, making you gulp nervously. Is he ok ?

“Umm..” you cringed nervously. His eyes widened a fraction, and if you weren’t mistaken, a red hue tinted his cheeks. He nervously started putting in your order, his fingers shaking a fraction while his heart thudded in excitement. Your words rang in his head, but instead of the usual robotic monotony that usually accompanied them, they were laced with your unique, bashful voice, accentuated with your embarrassed, cute face. 

“Latte, with cream on top ?” He asked again, as if consciousness only streamed back to him. Holy shit he thought. He should ask for your number. 

He should, the words formulated in his head, made the movements of his fingers slower, they went to the tip of his tongue- 

“That’ll be 2.99, thank you for your purchase.” 

But he did nothing. 

His shoulders deflated, the movement noticeable to the perceptive eye, especially when he saw your figure move away and take a seat on one of the tables while he prepared your drink. His hand instinctively went to tangle in his soft purple locks, however, the stupid christmas hat he was forced to wear prevented him from doing even that. Frustration towards himself willed up in his chest, the feeling akin to a burn that refused to go away. 

It’s fine. You’re not gone yet. He still has time. 

Those were the thoughts he kept repeating in his head as he prepared your latte, the words on his wrist feeling tingly, as if stroked by the softest of feathers. 

All too soon, he finished and had to call out your drink, anticipation coursing through him. He saw you stand up, bright eyes seeking him out, only to abruptly look away upon finding his gaze rooted on you. 

He grabbed the cup, intent on handing it to you, but his fingers shook at the last second when your pretty gaze met his, and he nearly spilt the drink, but he saw a droplet escape, landing on your sleeve. He didn’t comment on it, he didn’t have the chance to. 

“Are you ok ?” You questioned him, you didn’t think he was the ditzy type, then again you don’t really know him. But even this knowledge didn’t stop the concern for the handsome stranger to bubble through you. Caring about him felt as natural as breathing. 

“Yeah. Sorry about that.” His previously monotone voice seemed just a bit more breathy, just a bit more deep, but enough to have you swooning even more then before. 

You smiled at him- and gosh wasn’t it the prettiest sight he’d see— and grabbed your drink from his seemingly clumsy hands and settled back on your table. If only the turmoil within his heart could be settled as well. 

………...…

You walked out, the bell once again jingling, but this time to signal your exit. The taste of the best latte that ever graced your mouth was still present on your tongue, the remnants reminding you of the handsome stranger who made it. 

You goofily smiled, happiness gushing out of you without rhyme or reason, however, when your hand went to cover your mouth, you saw it. A coffee stain on your white shirt. A heart shaped, coffee stain where your soul mark is. 

.……………

The bell jingled, signaling your arrival once again. It’s been a habit that you made to frequent the coffee shop at least three times a week, in hopes of seeing your soulmate. 

On instinct, your eyes sought the lackadaisical male, and they were blessed, for you saw him, in the same place as usual, sporting the Christmas hat that he always seems to have on. The hat that failed to do hide the soft purple locks that your hand ached to run through- 

“Latte ? With cream on top ?” 

“Yes” you should be flattered that he memorised your order, but then again, you have been coming here more then a devout Catholic frequents the church. You really just hoped he’d say something else. Everytime. 

He should know you’re his soulmate, shouldn’t he ? 

“That’ll be 2.99” Maybe he just doesn’t want you. 

“Thank you.” 

Dammit. Shinsou thought. Disappointment filled his chest when he saw your downtrodden face move away and sit at your regular table, leaving him to his own devices. It’s been about a month since he’s met you. A month since he discovered who his soulmate is. A month since you began to frequent the place he works at. A month since he failed to act on it. 

The aroma of coffee that surrounded him, while aromatic, filled him with an innate sense of bitterness as he acknowledged his cowardice. No amount of pep talk could get him to ask for your number, and everyday, he felt you slip further and further away from him. 

Coward. He repeated that over and over in his head as he added the whipped cream and called out your order . 

You’re going to be alone forever.

A few seconds pass by while he stared scornfully at the wall, ticking by painfully slowly, or so he thought, until he realised a few minutes had flown and you hadn’t come to take your drink. 

He glanced towards your table, eyebrows furrowed in concern. However, what met him didn’t manage to ease this. 

A purple eyed guy sat on your table, a shade lighter than Shinso’s, but enough to make him seem more livelier at a glance. His hair was golden and slicked, giving the stereotypical facade of a prince charming. He held your delicate palm in his own, even his hand played into the princely impression he gave off, not incredibly massive and impossibly smooth-even more so than your own. Shinsou hated him already. 

Shinsou lowered his head, his hair covering his eyes slightly, perhaps to shield him from this wretched sight. Is this what he gets from not acting sooner ? Are you on a date with him ? Oh God, he hopes not. But his hair couldn’t protect him from the blood curling sight of the jerk bringing your hand up to his crooked lips and lying a kiss on them. 

Shinso looked at you this time, and he can’t tell relief from happiness as both emotions flowed predominantly in his chest at the sight of your indignant features. Your lips were pulled down, the frown not taking a tiny ounce of your beauty, and you pulled your hand away from him. 

That’s when Shinsou decided that no, it’s not too late to act. It’s not too late to try to be the one who sits opposite to you in cafes, the one who can hold your hands and shower them with kisses, and the one who brings a smile to your face. Just as he was always meant to be. 

He grabbed your still steaming latte, walking up to your table calmly, nothing in his relaxed posture indicated the turmoil happening within him. 

“Monoma, I told you, I’m not going anywhere with you. Not again.” Shinsou heard you utter now that he was closer to your table, and the jer-Monoma, didn’t seem deterred in the slightest.

“Come on, (y/n). Let’s try this again-“ 

Shinsou halted him in his speech, putting your drink in front of you loudly enough to overpower the absolute gibberish spewing out of Monoma’s mouth. After doing do, he grabbed the hand that was previously held captive in Monoma’s own, and brought it up to his lips, lying a lingering kiss on it that had your face feeling warmer and heart palpitating at the turn of events. Shinsou fleetingly  glanced towards Monoma, and found all traces of self assurance wiped out. 

“Is he bothering you kitten ?” Asked Shinsou, kissing your forehead, making any cohesive response cooking in your brain a victim to burning, no, charring. 

“Um-uh, no ? It’s fine…” kitten ?! What the-did he just ? 

Why ? 

That question resonated in your head, among all the scattered thoughts and chaos. Because the soulmate that you thought didn’t want you was suddenly here, ‘rescuing’ you, calling you kitten and kissing you as if that’s all he’s ever known. 

You didn’t realise that you zoned out until Monoma was calling your name. 

“(Y/n), is it true ?” He asked, sounding somewhat betrayed. 

“What ?” You seemed like such a ditz right right now. 

“Are you dating this gloomy guy ? I didn’t know you found a replacement so quick.” You’re dating who now ? 

“Yeah.” Monoma quirked an eyebrow at your response, unimpressed, distrustful. He got a hold of the drink that Shinsou obsessed over, worried that he wouldn’t impress you, and took a sip. A sip of the drink that Shinsou prepared especially for you, with your bright, eye crinkling smile in mind and sincere thank you. Now Shinsou was certain he hated him. All smug smiles and shitty attitude. 

Monoma remained silent for a moment. His eyes hard and steely, alternating between you and Shinsou, until they brightened once again, almost as if a veil that had previously been placed over them had been lifted. He smiled his princely smile, his teeth making a brief appearance to dazzle their beholders with their brightness. 

“I don’t believe you. And I won’t stop pursuing (y/n) .” Shinsou ground his teeth at the audacity. How dare this assh- 

“But, I will if you show up to my Christmas ball and convince me. I’ll leave it up to you as to how. I want you to remind me of every moment we had together and make it feel meaningless in comparison to what I’m seeing before me.” He maintained his crooked smile while he spoke, but reached out into his pant pocket and pulled out a card with a location on it. The card was of medium thickness too. Even that screamed rich. 

Shinsou wasn’t sure what the appropriate response should be, it could be a solid ‘no, we don’t need to prove anything’ or a solid ‘yes, I’ll show you that whatever you had with her was nothing more than elementary crushing. At least to her.’ Shinsou was flooded with so many opportunities, that for a moment, he forgot what situation he placed himself in. 

What is he proving ? He isn’t dating you. He was a coward who hid behind a cashier because he couldn’t acknowledge that the one meant for him was right in front of him. 

“Monoma. Leave, you’ve said enough.” Your voice shattered the fake amiability that somehow built in the atmosphere. Shinsou and Monoma glared at each other openly, one with more hostility than the other. If Shinsou looked in the mirror right now, chance is he wouldn't recognize himself. Monoma gave Shinsou one last meaningful look before standing up and taking his leave. 

He was shorter than Shinsou, and he grasped into the fleeting feel of superiority the knowledge gave him. He could probably squash him like a pest too. 

“What was that about ?” Your gaze was directed at him now, icy and expectant, Shinsou gulped, not having expected the sheer amount of seriousness pooling in your irises. 

“I saw how uncomfortable you looked, I just wanted to help you out.” You sighed at his answer. It was stupid of you to expect anything from him. Maybe you are wrong though. You held on to the fleeting hope, a thread to thin to keep you afloat. 

“You know I’m your soulmate, right ?” Shinsou nodded, guilt written across his face. 

“Yeah, the first thing you said to me is written on my wrist.” 

And the thread of hope snapped. It’s just as you thought. He knew before you, all those days that you came, desperate for his acknowledgment but to no avail and it was true. The dark thoughts that you tried to keep at bay festered, tangling together producing something ugly. 

You stood up abruptly, shocking Shinsou. 

“Thanks for trying to help. I think you only made things worse.” His face became ridden with guilt, he didn’t want to cause you inconvenience. He only ever wanted to help you out— but why didn’t he think this through ? 

“I’m sorry-I don’t know why I did this.” He was desperately trying to salvage this, knowing that the moment you left, you would be gone, for good, no more chances. 

“Yeah, I don’t know why either.” You hissed angry, grabbing your coat and leaving.

…..………………

Shinsou laid on his bed, face mushed against the pillows and eyes bloodshot. He single handedly messed up everything. Then again, he has a knack for doing that. 

It’s Christmas day, and Shinsou rejected all invites to dinners made by friends and family alike, opting to instead wallow in misery. He hasn’t seen you since that day. He probably lost you forever, and he didn’t even get the chance to properly get to know you. He glanced at his wrist, the sentence written on it something he fantasised about as a child many times. It’s what led him to working in a coffee shop, aside from his love for coffee. He knew one day, his soulmate would come along, and say the re-enact the writing on his wrist, be the sugar to his bitter self. 

He finally stood up from his bed, stretching his weary limbs. It felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. His eyes caught the card Monojerk gave him though. 

His last chance to be with you…. 

………………

Shinsou stood at the entrance of the huge mansion that Monoma is the owner of, apparently. He’d been standing there for two hours, after coming an hour early to make sure he didn’t miss you in case you did come. People continuously flooded inside, their laughter and smiles a clear contrast to Shinsou’s straight face. 

All of it merged together, making a meaningless sound that didn’t resonate within Shinsou, the only thing he registered was the icy wind biting his skin-he opted out of wearing a coat, and the anxiety reigning within him, making his palms clammy despite the weather. He’s here to make things right. This is his last chance. He can feel it in his very bones. 

He only hopes you'll come. 

But all thoughts flew out of his head when his ears picked up the angelic sound of your laughter, surrounded by friends on either side of you, but they dulled in comparison to you, only side characters while you owned the spotlight. His heart thudded in his chest. 

He’ll make things right. 

………

Contradictory to what you thought, when your soulmate approached you, your friends didn’t tell him to shove it and to leave you alone. No, oh no, they pushed you towards him and patted him on the back with encouraging smiles. They really just want the best for you. You didn’t think your night would be playing out like this, but here you are, dancing with him. 

“Why are you here ?” You questioned, not irritated, but your shoulders were slumped as if you’d given up. 

“I’m here because I—I want to finally talk to you. Something I should have done the moment you spoke to me.” He answered, his deep voice ringing clearly in your ear despite the ruckus around you, sending tingles down your spine. You’d never heard such a calming voice. 

“And why didn’t you ? I came everyday, hoping you’d mention something. I guess I could’ve as well but, when I discovered who you are to me, the moment was over and gone. But why didn’t you ?” Your emotions were pouring out, tumbling clumsily. You couldn’t get a hold of them. 

His hand felt warm on your waist, and you were enshrouded with his warmth, and even his virile scent made you feel safe. You wanted to be as nonchalant as he seemed to be, but you couldn’t, you could never when it comes to the mysterious man who’s so good at making lattes and making your heart pound. 

“I’m sorry. I wanted to. Every single time you came. But I don’t know. I guess I was scared. When I saw you, you always seemed to be glowing, as if you made the world your star while you shined like the sun. I knew I could never compare to that, and I knew you were too good for me. But, if there’s a chance that you’d have me, I’ll fight tooth and nail for it.” You listened intently to every word that came out of his mouth, shocked. You remained silent for a few seconds, not knowing how to respond to this newfound discovery. You ? Too good for him ? 

Instead of responding, however, you stilled your movement and grabbed  his face, bringing him down for a kiss, much to the shock of everyone around you and the man himself. It didn’t take long for Shinsou to respond, while everyone around who were rendered to side characters. 

Shinsou doesn’t really need presents, entertainment, or food on Christmas, the biggest blessing is right here in his arms. It’s all he could ever ask for. 

…………

Bonus

Monoma looked on, scrunching his face in disgust at seeing his ex kiss the gloomy bastard. He had wanted to talk to you since you came in, but everytime he tried to approach you, someone would come to him and distract him. And well, it was in his nature to revel in attention and adoration. He was surprised that you didn’t run back to him, but he could see it now. Monoma had never seen you do something so bold with so many people around, but love does bring you to new heights.

[dboliklover]

Can you do the Sakamaki boys reacting to their tiny s/o who sees something she doesn’t like or completely agree with and goes ‘not my kink’ before shutting her book or turning off the tv etc...... YOUR BLOG IS GREAT I READ THE PIZZA IMAGINE AND LAUGHED!!!

I hope you don’t mind, I did alter the requests slightly! <3 <3 <3  Thank you so much, dearest. This took me way longer than I had planned, but I hope you enjoy it! 

Warning: NSFW mentions/themes, but not actual smut. 

Shu:

You were sitting in the music room as Shu played the violin for you, book in your hands. He rarely played for you, but this was one of those rare, domestic moments that made you feel so-very-content.

The book you had chosen, however - was something you’d foolishly grabbed in a hurry, and the more you tried to read the more...disturbing it got.

Not in a ‘real’ disturbing manner, mind you; the disturbing part was how god-awful this book was. The writing. The characteristics. The hypersexualisation that made you want to cringe.

Not to even mention how unrealistic this book was! You would know how the ‘risque’ sex that’s written in this novel actually works and this ain’t it, chief.

Instead of arousal, you felt disgust; why was the protagonist so...bland and horny??

Eventually one of the sexual descriptions broke your resolve and you slammed the book closed, the sound causing Shu to stop playing, turning to you with a raised eyebrow - a look that said ‘What the fuck?’

You took a deep breath, your cheeks tinted vermilion with embarrassment - definitely not arousal - as you placed the book down on the window sill beside you. “Nothing, I just don’t find this book appealing,” You swallowed thickly, “Keep playing, please. You know I love your music-”

Shu let out a breathy chuckle and placed his violin down, coming closer to you with his hands in his pockets and his signature jacket over him.

You attempted to grab the book back before he could pick it up and see what it was, but he grabbed the book from your hands as you squealed and tried to grab it back - too bad you were so small

An unusually loud laugh fell from his godlike lips, “50 shades of Grey?” He snickered, shaking his head, “If you want bondage, you lewd woman, you can get the real thing from me.” He shamelessly stated as if it was the most casual thing. “I’ll even be kind enough to take you right here and now.”

You blinked, red-faced. “....Not my kink!” you cried out without even realising what you said - and then blushed harder in humiliation when you acknowledged the words that had slipped out of your panic. Unfortunate too because this was your kink; and Shu knew it, too.

Reiji:

Reiji and you were in bed, he was reading a classical novel as you watched TV

How you even convinced him to allow you to have  TV in your room, even you did not know; but you do remember him being strictly against it. He really did detest that TV.

Your small form bundled up in the covers as you watched the screen, Reiji was frustrated because he REALLY hated this stupid TV and didn’t know why he agreed to let you have it in the first place and was very close to just getting rid of it. Why couldn’t you just read a book like a sophisticated, proper person (like himself)?

Reiji sat up off the bed with his book and went to the library instead - it was at least quiet there, as opposed to the ridiculous movie you were watching.

As for you, the movie was...interesting, to say the least - it had looked appealing to you when you first turned it on but soon found that it was getting a little too...intense. You hadn’t initially realised it would be a slasher film, and as luck would have it the moment the nasty things started occurring was when Reiji was already out of the room.

You tried - you truly did - to keep going and just watch it but you couldn’t.

Not because you were scared or afraid but because it was so horrifically gorey in the worst of ways that it was impossible to enjoy - how did anyone possibly like this genre?

Reiji had just managed to close the bedroom door behind him when he heard you screech, “NOT MY KINK!” from inside, and a soft thud as though you’d thrown the remote.

He blinked, mentally arguing with himself on whether or not he should even try to go inside and see what happened; he was curious, yes, but curiosity killed the cat and to be frank...well, he didn’t exactly want to know.

Like that one time he’d walked in on Laito and his lover in the kitchen and quite literally entered and left as soon as he saw what was going on. He shuddered at the memory.

Taking a deep breath he turned back around and went inside, raising an eyebrow in mild amusement as he saw you huddled in bed, TV turned off and the remote sitting in the corner against the wall.

Hm, maybe this was fortunate; he’d finally be able to convince you to get rid of that TV.

Not to mention you looked adorable like that; your petite form clenching onto the covers and pillows in a panicked state.

Reiji loved seeing you so vulnerable and adorable, like a small little panicked rabbit.

Ayato:

You were sitting by the swimming pool, your small legs dipping in and out of the water as you read your novel, humming softly to yourself as you were fully focused on the story.

Ayato was splashing around in the pool, and though he wouldn’t admit it he was upset you refused to swim with him

What was the point of coming to a pool with him if you weren’t going to swim?

Pouting, he swam around a few laps, admittedly growing bored and glancing over at your tiny physique holding a book by the pool’s edge. It would be so easy just to...pull you in…

A smirk befell his lips and he chuckled to himself darkly, his emerald eyes narrowing as he sunk his larger body under the surface, slowly making his way over to you, sneaking up on you so he could pull you into the pool by the foot.

He couldn’t wait to see our expression - this was going to be SO amusing.

Teasing you must’ve been Ayato’s favourite activity above anything else; your huffy reactions were always just too cute for your own good.

Carefully he got closer and closer as you were perfectly unaware that he was beginning to reach you, the book in her hands having completely stolen your attention (from Ayato; hence why he was so determined to tease you and regain your attention - but he would rather die than admit that aloud)

Your scream spread through the outdoors, loud enough to scare the birds off their trees as you felt a hand grasp your leg and drag you under the depths of the swimming pool, your book flying up into the water, ruined.

Eyes wide and shocked your tiny body sunk beneath the water’s surface as you frantically attempted to calm yourself down, swimming up to take a deep breath as you moved your hands shakily to keep afloat.

“Ayato!” You cried out as frustration flooded your veins, “What the hell did you do?”

His laugh was obnoxious to you in that moment; you had half-a-mind to push him away from you with your legs under the water, but instead you made your way back to the pool’s edge, sighing. “Don’t do that again,” You huffed, “It’s not my kink,”

Ayato blinked, confused but very much entertained - hey, his plan had worked; he managed to regain your attention and that’s a win for him.

“Maybe that isn’t,” He countered, swimming closer to you as you climbed back onto the ground, his eyes melting into yours, “But I know for a fact this is,” Suddenly his arms were on your thighs, spreading them apart as you gasped, “A-Ayato! Not here, I...I…” A heavy blush covered your cheeks as you bit down on your lip to stop the soft moans, “Any one could come out here right now and see us-”

“Let them.” He winked.

Laito:

Playing pool was never ‘your’ thing; you were terrible at it, really.

Still, Latio demanded he play with you and you just couldn’t refuse him; not when his way of “convincing” you was to mercilessly attack your neck with love bites until you were a gasping, moaning mess.

So here you were, holding a pool stick as you leaned against the pool table, watching Laito lean down to take a hit off the ball.

Both of you knew that he was going to win; you would lose every time much to your dismay, though in your defense he had absolute decades or even centuries of experience so of course he’d be your superior in this game.

As you two played and you were getting your ass served to you, you turned on the small television in the game room just so you two would have some background noise to make the experience more pleasant. (And, admittedly, you were hoping the noise would distract Laito and make him falter)

Unfortunately for you, however, the channel the TV was on was the news channel, and specifically regarding some politics that never failed to get you riled up and angry.

You were trying to focus on the game; you really were, but you kept hearing the news reporter making ridiculous declarations which curdled your very blood.

How could people be so stupid? And spread such obvious misconduct and propaganda?

Laito noticed your agitation increase as you tried to project those frustrations on the poor pool balls that you kept hitting with no strategy apart from “angrily hitting this and making the balls fly everywhere”

You were tense, and he wasn’t sure why that was - his first instinct was that he was just that great at pool that you were becoming horribly frustrated due to your inferior skill; but he soon found his answer when you grabbed the remote and turned the small TV off, filling the room with silence as you sighed and declared,  “Not my kink.”

After he processed what had just happened, he laughed in the sultry manner which only he could pull off; that signature thigh-clenching laugh that instantly activated the burning desire within you. Still, you glared at him, crossing your arms because your anger, though aimed at the stupid news, had not yet dissipated.

“What are you laughing about?”

Laito tsked and shook his head, that charming smile sending you back on your heels; fuck, why did he have to be so damn seductive that you forgot whatever it was you were upset about with just one look?

Before you knew it, Laito pushed your body against the table, trapping you in a compromising position as the pool stick fell from your hand and clacked on the ground, “L-Laito…” You whispered in slight protest, trying to resist your lover’s advances.

Unfortunately for you the moment he picked you up and placed your ass on the table, caging your body with his arms as he held onto your thighs you knew that your resolve was fading fast.

“That’s not your kink, huh?” He chuckled into your ear so you could feel his breath on your ear, sending wild sparks down your spine, “Maybe I can help with that.”

Kanato:

Kanato demanded you have a tea party with him and Teddy, and who were you to refuse? Especially since you knew damn well he’d throw a tantrum if you tried to say no.

So here you were, sitting at the tea table elegantly with Teddy and Kanato, who was forcing you to eat more cake than you would like to eat, but you also knew he was relentless when it came to sweets.

It was quite enjoyable for the most part - by now you were used to having such tea parties with Kanato, since he had a bias towards more...childish aspects of life. But given his difficult childhood, you understood why that was and if having Teddy by his side and having tea parties made Kanato feel safe, secure and stable, then you would partake in such things for his sake.

What you perhaps weren’t so much a fan of was the dresses. He insisted on dressing you up constantly in the most frivolous gowns he could get his hands on; at times you felt more like his personal dress-up doll than his lover.

Frills, satins, ribbons and lace, though pretty when used to enhance clothing, were atrocious when used in such frivolity.

But, just as with everything else, you put up with it for Kanato’s sake. Even the tight, excessively hot-to-wear dresses, you put up with it all because you knew that Kanato felt better when he could have control over such things.

Biting into a piece of terribly sweet cake, you raised it to your lips when Kanato suddenly stood up, telling you to stay still, and so you did and waited for him to return.

When he came back, you had to stop yourself from nervously laughing because he was holding up the most frilly, puffy, most horrific dress you’ve ever seen. It was too much, even out of all the kinds of insufferable dresses he forced you to wear, this one was something else, another level completely.

Not even the world’s brattiest princess would be caught dead in it!

He...he really expected you to wear this?

You did a lot to make Kanato happy, and made many sacrifices for him. But this...this was too much; it was impossible for you to ever even try to get into that death trap of a dress.

This was one thing you were not going to be doing no matter how big a tantrum saying ‘no’ would result in.

“Not my kink.” You softly stated, swallowing the piece of cake and placing your fork down slowly, as if trying to make no sudden movements in front of a predator.

Your statement clearly confused him, and that gave you enough time to raise from your seat, and you could tell that for a second Kanato thought you were standing to come and take the dress to change into it, but the moment you were standing you legged it out of the room, hearing Kanato yelling at you to come back and wear it,

“NOT MY KINK!” You exclaimed again, running as far away as possible from the most hellish dress you’ve ever seen. It was such an awful dress that you were certain if Karlheinz was a dress, he’d be that monstrosity.

Subaru:

You were taking a walk with Subaru in the garden, enjoying your time together amongst the roses. Moments such as these were your absolute favourites; how could you not adore them? How could you not adore him?

Hand-in-hand, the two of you walked together without saying a thing, simply...enjoying one another’s sweet company, the mutual feeling of trust and love surrounding you both.

Subaru was not the easiest man to get along with, but you had taken your time to get him to warm up to you and now there was a comfort between you that you didn’t feel with anyone else.

Subaru...he’d truly become your lifeline, your love and everything good in your life. He was so much more wonderful than he gave himself merit for, but you were here to remind him every time he self-deprecated that you adored him just the way he was.

His hand let go of your hand only to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. It was physically and emotionally intimate; a sensation of true, undying love and passion and before you knew it your lips were on his in a frenzy.

Subaru was a rough man; this was nothing new to you, but you admittedly loved it. His strong touch, his violent kisses all over you, it was to die for.

He sank his fangs into your neck, drinking your blood as you held tightly onto him, feebly moaning with breathy sighs as you ascended into seventh heaven because Subaru drinking from you always felt so perfectly painful that it resulted in the truest of pleasure.

The beautiful moment of the pure intimacy of lovers was ruined when a certain ginger vampire interrupted, chuckling lustfully to himself with his hand on his hip, “My my~ What do we have here?” Laito taunted.

You felt Subaru tense and pull away - you knew he was moments away from snapping at his older brother so you quickly kissed your snow-haired lover to distract him from his rage and then pulled away when he was in a daze, grabbing his hand and pulling him up from your position on a bench, glaring darkly at Laito, “Not. My. Kink.” You hissed, which no doubt must’ve been absolutely adorable to the perverted vampire because you looked like a tiny little angry kitten!

He laughed and shrugged as you dragged Subaru away back inside, frustrated that Laito had ruined the romantic moment.

Mod Rozalia 

As always I appreciate and love it when you reblog and comment <3 Tell me your favourite moments, who your favourite boy is, what emotions you felt reading it, etc! Hell, comment about how shitty my writing is, if you want! I just like having that communication with followers <3 

[imagineaworlds]

Rules & Roses

“are you following me?”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual​

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of sex. Pretty sure that’s it.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Non-binary!Reader x Emily Prentiss (poly triad)

Word Count: 2073

Paranoia was starting to kick in. After days of running that same path without seeing another trace of that woman who reminded me of Lauren, I was genuinely starting to worry about just how fucking insane I was. I mean, think about it this way: I dedicated six years of my life to loving Lauren Reynolds so passionately that nothing else in the world mattered. As long as I had her, I was content. Then, one day, without warning, she was gone, and I was left to pick up the pieces. After those six years loving someone to the point that my life became theirs, it was hard to move on. Truthfully, I don’t think I ever did. There I was, thirteen years later, and my whole life was still about Lauren. For all I knew, she disappeared of her own free will. She woke up on that Wednesday morning, decided that she had enough of me, so she made it seem like she was going to the market, but she was really getting as far away from me as possible. Honestly, I wouldn’t have been surprised. I mean, I thought she loved me… but Lauren liked to keep moving, and she didn’t like to get close with anyone— hence why I hardly knew anything about her— so it was possible that she just got bored of me. If that were the case, then I was definitely insane for still being head over heels in love with her.

Not knowing what happened with her, or with us, made it impossible for me to gauge if it was okay for me to actually still be strung on her or not. The good news was, however, that I could run it out every morning at the park. Since it was slowly getting colder, the tourists were spending more of their time in the city where there was artificial heating. As for the usual faces I saw on the path, they were still there. The older couples that liked to walk the path on the warm, sunny days so that they could stare at all of the different flowers in the huge garden all day were already long gone, probably cooped up in their homes to stay warm with each other. I envied that life. It was the life I wanted with— Stop. The point of running was to just focus on the burn in my lungs and legs. Playing my music as loud as I could in my ear was also to help deter any wandering thoughts. If anything, I could just focus on the lyrics and pretend that I was elsewhere in the world with her— No.

Thirteen fucking years and I still couldn’t shake Lauren Reynolds.

As I reached the top of the U-turn, I decided to sit down on the bench there for once. Usually, it was taken up by one of the older couples or a lazy tourist; but, since they were all gone— and no one else was going to dare to sit on the cold metal— I got to stretch out for a moment as I caught my breath and tried to end this tug-of-war in my mind. People continued to pass. As they made their way around the U-turn, they each sent me a glance, all for different reasons. Some were confused, others were curious, and others had just accidentally looked over at me. There was confusion because it was way too cold to just be sitting on a metal bench in the park, and curiosity because they wanted to make sure I was alright. With every glance that came, however, I tried to see if I could spot that woman who looked like Lauren. I really wanted to see her again. Not because I wanted to talk to her or something, but because I just needed that reassurance that it wasn’t her. I needed to move on. Despite the fact that I hadn’t seen her again since that first glance, I was holding out hope that at some point I would get to prove to myself that I wasn’t cray.

“How are you not freezing?” his muffled voice passed through the music playing in my headphones just enough to catch my attention.

I looked up at him. It was the man from the other day, the one who bumped into me— the six foot Nordic God that I had ignored. I gulped. “I’m used to it.”

“Ah. So, you can say more than ‘sorry’.” He laughed. My eyes raked down his figure, taking in every detail of him. Since it was so cold out, his hair wasn’t all sweaty and sticking to his forehead this time around. His brown eyes were just as dark and endless this time as they were the first time, though, and I felt myself getting lost for a second before I caught myself on the detail of how his nose flared to stop himself from smiling when he saw me staring. “I’m Aaron,” he said when he realized that I didn’t know how to respond.

I smiled up at him. “Nice to meet you.”

“What’s your name?”

I stayed silent, my headphones still in my ears. I thought that it was common knowledge that you weren’t supposed to bother someone when they had headphones in. Then again, Aaron looked older, so it was possible that it was a generation rule, not a societal one. I stood from the cold bench to show that I wasn’t going to answer him. His eyes followed mine. As I jumped on my toes to try and warm myself up, my gaze continued to search his body. He was wearing a tight grey Under Armor shirt that showed off his loose abs that he was working on, and his biceps… Again, a six foot Nordic God. As for his pants, he was wearing knee-length black sports shorts over black tights to keep his legs warm. My eyes snapped back up to meet his face when I heard him chuckle.

“You’re shy,” he said to me.

“Not really.”

“So, then, what’s your name?”

This guy wasn’t going to give up— but, again, Americans were normally people that kept to themselves. If they didn’t, it was a huge red flag. The fact that this guy bumped into me the other day, and now he was trying to use that brief interaction as an excuse to talk to me again was unnerving. Stranger danger, right? That was an American concept, for the most part, but I supposed it was a valid thing to be concerned about. At this point, I had learned that they were onto something with their “stranger danger” concept. Despite the fact that this man was very attractive, looks could be deceiving. I wasn’t going to give him my name or any other attention, really. The less the better. I shouldn’t have stopped on that bench. I shouldn’t have stopped on the path the other day when he bumped into me, and I shouldn’t have stopped on the bench this time. I needed to learn to just keep moving. Just because I had all the time in the world to do what I want in the mornings now, that didn’t mean I should lolligag.

“I should go,” I said.

This time, he didn’t stop me with any kind of protest or hold on my hips. I wasn’t sure why, but that one detail from that morning stuck out the most— well, besides the fact that I thought I saw Lauren. He had knocked into me because of my sudden halt, and in order to save me from falling flat on my face, he caught my hips and held me until he was sure that I was okay. Even then, I had to pull from his touch. With all of the caution I had been proceeding with, it was irking me that I couldn’t forget how he held me. Maybe it was just the fact that he was attractive. I was easily blinded by love and sexuality— use Lauren Reynolds as the prime example— so, I couldn’t trust even myself when it came to attractive strangers like the six foot Nordic God who was following me around.

When I arrived at my car after my run, I sat down in the driver’s seat, the door still open so that I could knock the dirt off my running shoes and change into something more comfortable. As the sun was coming up for the rest of the morning, it started to warm up, but only slightly, I missed being warm all the time. Even with the constant traveling Lauren and I did, we managed to catch everywhere when it was warm. We never ran into snow unless it was on purpose. Like, this one time, Lauren took me to Poland so that we could stay in a cabin where the snow could trap us in, giving us all the time in the world to just be together and not be interrupted by anything. I hated the snow without her. I hated the cold without her. She used to keep me warm, no matter what. Now, I had no one to keep me warm, which made the cold— especially the D.C. cold— unbearable.

“I didn’t mean to scare you off earlier,” he said.

I rolled my eyes before looking up at him. “Are you following me? Do I need to call the cops?”

He laughed. “No. I just wanted to apologize. I’ll leave you alone—”

“Good. ‘Cause I will call the police—” My threat fell short when he dug into his pocket, pulling out a black wallet, then flipped it open so that I could see the inside. My jaw dropped. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

I scanned every line of the I.D. laminated next to the bright gold FBI badge. “So, your name really is Aaron.” That was a relief, I supposed.

He laughed again. “Yeah.” He pocketed his badge. “I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just on a run the other day with my friend, and we were racing, so I was trying to keep up after she passed you; but I wasn’t looking where I was going, so I ran into you.”

“Did she win?”

“What?”

“Your friend. Did she win your race because of me?”

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from widening his smile. “Yeah, she did. She would have won anyways. She’s fast.”

“You’ll have to challenge her to a rematch, that way I can bump into her next time so that you can win.”

I shivered suddenly. I tried to pass it off like I was cold, but, in reality, it was because I had just realized that I was flirting with him, even though I promised myself I wouldn’t get involved with a stranger. It was just that he pulled out that badge, and it suddenly gave me a sense of security with him— even though it could have been a fake badge, or the fact that he was still a stranger with a badge. I shouldn’t have been warming up to him as quickly as I was. I knew it was wrong. I knew that it was dangerous. Yes, neither of us could stop smiling. After not smiling for so long, I thought I forgot how to laugh. Then he came along, and it seemed easy to smile and laugh. It was natural. Unlike the other day, this wasn’t forced or awkward. We were just two people who happened to keep running into each other on the path, and because of that, we felt the need to create polite conversation. Still, it was wrong— It didn’t have to be wrong. No. It was. A badge didn’t mean he wasn’t still a stranger to me.

Aaron seemed to notice the truth behind my shiver, though, so he backed down. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around, then.”

“Yeah.”

 “Okay…” He turned on his heels to make his way to his car.

“Y/N,” I said urgently.

He stopped. “What?” he asked while turning back around.

I swallowed hard. “My name’s Y/N. I figure, if you’re in the FBI, you’d find out sooner than later.”

“I wasn’t going to—”

“It’s okay.”

Aaron bit his lip nervously. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Aaron. See you tomorrow.”

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

criminal minds family: @peggy1999​ @gorgeousdarkangel​ @alex--awesome--22​ @oceaneblu​ @brithedemonspawn​ @absolutemarveltrash​ @bshelley322​

[sevlgi]

patient

requested: yes

group: mamamoo

pairing: hwasa x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: tattoo artist!hwasa, flustered!reader [15/33]

warnings: none

synopsis: It’s hard for you to be patient about your next tattoo session when your artist is so damn gorgeous.

a/n: um??? I love tattoo aus???? also don’t come at me for the name, I’m not creative

word count: 1.9k

“Elegant Chaos.”

You test the name out on your tongue, staring up at the slightly grimy neon sign of the shop. The entire front is one-way glass, so all you can see is your own reflection and the ones of the people bustling around you.

Before you can make up a decision to open the door to the store or not, someone else does; a pretty brunette woman steps out and smiles at you, crazy beautiful with full lips and crescent-eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah.” You show her the printed-out address your friend sent you and step a bit closer. “Is this a tattoo shop? I searched the address up but nothing resulted, I was referred by a friend.”

She barely takes a glance at the address before flashing another bright grin. “Oh, yep! This is our tattoo shop, we opened a couple months ago. It’s weird that we’re still not showing up, but oh, well. Want to come in?”

You barely register her quick words but step into the shop after her, the smell of rubbing alcohol, paper, and perfume vaguely stinging your nose. “I’m Solar, the receptionist,” she introduces, walking behind what you presume to be her desk. Out front, some teenagers talk quietly, a tall, dark-haired boy with a sleeve sipping at a banana milk.

“Cool. Uh, I’m Y/N. I don’t have an appointment, is that okay?”

Solar nods, tapping at her phone. “Sure. Jungkook over there is just waiting for Byul to finish her other client, and Wheein is prepping to pierce the kids. Hwasa’s our best artist, anyway, does that sound good?”

Her question startles you from staring at the intricate sketches taped all over the walls, the same 3 signatures stamped everywhere. “What?”

She laughs, though it’s not rude. “We have one artist left, Hwasa, but since you’re referred, you probably don’t have someone in mind, right? You can go to see her now, she’s free.”

“Great. Do I just...?” At Solar’s nod, you walk past her and into the back. The studio’s quite small, to be honest; there are 4 stations, two of them occupied. One of them, who you guess is Byul, is tattooing an elderly man, her sleeves rolled up to reveal the art on her bicep. 

The second, probably Wheein, is wiping down her tools, and she’s the first to notice you. “Hi!” she grins, turning the music blasting from the radio down with her ungloved hand. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah. Solar mentioned that I should come find Hwasa,” you explain, eyes widening at the complicated art being tattooed on the elderly man. “Are you...?”

“No, I’m Wheein.” Ah, so you were right. “This is Byul, she’s a bit preoccupied,” Wheein smiles, dimples poking into her cheeks. “I’ll get Hye- sorry, Hwasa for you.”

She hurries out to the back, and you can hear talking through the open door, before she comes back, the woman you presume to be Hwasa behind her.

Instantly, you’re starstruck; she’s stunning in a way that’s completely unique, long dark hair and tanned skin contrasting beautifully. The only makeup she wears is a bold red lipstick, her tank top showing the delicate tattoos she has. “Hey, I’m Hwasa,” she greets, sticking her hand out. Her nails are long, too.

“Y/N.” You accept the handshake, trying not to stare. “Uh, Solar said you were free for a consultation?”

“Yeah.” She sits at one of the free stations, clearing the things scattered on the table. “So, what’re you looking for? Do you already have a design chosen or am I freehanding?”

You fumble in your bag for a piece of paper, sliding it over to Hwasa. “Um, this is just something my friend drew up for me. I want it pretty small, on my forearm.”

The dark-haired woman shrugs, unfolding the paper. “I could do that. Is this your first tattoo?”

Nodding, you watch as Hwasa taps her long, red-painted nails on the desk. “Okay. Is this part of a sleeve or by itself?”

“Uh, how long would each one take?” To be honest, you have no idea why you said that; you didn’t consider a sleeve at all, though you considered multiple tattoos or a large one. There’s just something about the other woman that makes it impossible for you to think.

She considers the question before answering, “Depends on the size and how many small ones you want to work in for the sleeve, but I’d recommend a separate session for each small square, so maybe 8 or 10. I’ll be done with this in less than 30 minutes, though, if it’s just the one.”

To be honest, the only thing causing you to consider a sleeve is getting to see Hwasa again, and you curse your own attraction to her when you blurt, “Maybe a sleeve? I have to think about the other ones I want to work in, though.”

“Okay. I can just do the one today, and we can schedule another day for you to come in and design the whole thing,” she offers, picking the sketch up. “I’ll go make this into a stencil, then.”

“Sure.”

When she takes the sketch and walks to the back room, you slump down in the chair and pivot to look at the others. You quickly realize how long you were talking with Hwasa; Byul is already working on the coconut-haired boy, and Wheein is already done with the teenagers.

She seems to be the outgoing type, and waves at you while sanitizing her needles and packing her kit up again. “So, how did it go? Are you going to start today?”

“I am, yep. You’re already done with the kids?”

Wheein nods, placing the studs back into their cases. “Yep. They just wanted more lobe piercings, it’s really easy. I’m a tattoo artist, too, but I think the kids like me more. Except for Jungkook over here, they think Byul’s intimidating.”

“I’m not!” the other woman protests, hands still steady as she works on the boy. Her voice is deeper than you’d expect. “You literally call me a hamster.”

Flapping a hand, Wheein flashes you her dimples again. “So, what do you think of Hwasa?”

“Huh?” you blink, brain basically short-circuiting. “Uh, she’s a good artist? I saw some of her sketches, yours too; you’re all really talented.”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. Wait, you’re not straight, are you?” she narrows her eyes at you, scanning you from head to toe. “Maybe my sense is broken, I didn’t peg you for a...”

“I’m not. Straight. I’m a lesbian.” Your cheeks burn to say it aloud, though nobody really reacts, not even Jungkook. “Are you?”

Wheein shrugs, “I mean, I’m attracted to women. All 4 of us are- Hyejin, Byul, Yongsun. Solar, to you. And we make sure everyone who comes in is accepting, we won’t serve bigots.”

For whatever reason, you’re almost relieved to hear that Hwasa’s also attracted to women in some sense, even though it doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s attracted to you. “Oh. That’s cool.”

“Yeah. So, is it just one tattoo or a sleeve?” Her knowing smile puts you off a bit; how did she figure it out? “A lot of girls who come in here change their original idea because of Hyejin-ah. You’re obviously attracted to her, to, so it’s no surprise.”

“Is it really that obvious?” you groan, surprising yourself with how open you’re being about it. “Do you think she knows?”

“Probably,” Wheein giggles, nodding when Solar pokes her head in the studio to tell her something. “Anyway. I’ve got to go, good luck!”

She waves as she leaves, the only noise left in the studio being the quiet music and Jungkook’s quiet talking. He seems just as awkward as you are, lifting his free hand in a half wave.

You’re saved by Hwasa returning with a stencil. “Here. Does that look good?”

She’s modified the original design just the tiniest bit, making the lines a little bit darker and the shading simpler, and it looks... “Perfect.” You grin, a weight on your chest lifted by your conversation with Wheein. “Should we start?”

“Sure.” She brings you over to one of the actual tattoo stations, the seat already smelling sanitized. You can barely listen as she explains what the process will be like- cleaning, the actual tattooing, pain; you finally come to when she asks, “Are you ready?”

“I... yeah. I am.”

It’s quiet until the buzzing of the tattoo gun brings you to life, the tiniest bit of fear sour on your tongue. Hwasa looks concentrated as she peels the stencil off, not exactly reassuring, either. “So. Is there a meaning behind this?”

“Uh, not really. Are there meanings behind yours?” You gasp when the needle first touches your skin, the cold wipe taking off excess ink.

“I have some matching tattoos with Wheein,” Hwasa explains, smiling at the mention of the other girl. “Uh, one is Maria, my Christian name. Wheein has more, but all of us have some kind of meaning behind ours. It’s not bad to have no meaning, though.”

You wince as she continues with the linework, slowly getting used to the pain. “Are you and Wheein...”

She looks up, raising an eyebrow. “Together? No, we’re best friends. I haven’t been with someone in a few years.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Hwasa laughs, wiping your arm once again. “Nothing, I guess. I’m just patient enough to wait for the right person.”

“Patient. Right.”

Conversation flows smoothly, mostly light topics. You learn each other’s ages, and you’re told to call Hwasa ‘Hyejin’ instead. You learn when she got her first tattoo, and when she learned to tattoo others. The more you talk, the more drawn in you are, fascinated by her every word.

The half an hour is over far too fast. “Done,” she announces, smiling as she turns off her gun. “Take a look.”

It looks gorgeous, as expected, though Hwasa plays off your barrage of compliments. “Uh, should I pay now?”

She shrugs, placing saran wrap over your arm. “We’ll go talk with Solar about that, she’s better with pricing than I am. But it probably won’t be much.”

“What? Why?” you frown, examining the tattoo. Usually, discounts only happen when something goes wrong, or you have a coupon. You’re pretty sure neither of those things apply.

Hwasa pauses, turning to send you a small smirk. “Well, the cute ones usually pay less.”

Your heart practically stops, though you force yourself to walk to the front with her. “Besides, you’re probably coming back again soon, right?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah. I think so. When will that be? The next session, I mean.”

She frowns, tapping at the tablet Solar hands her. “You can come in as soon as you’re free to design it, if you want, but you have to wait a bit for the next session, especially if you’re doing the things close together. If you want, I can give you my number.”

At your stricken expression, Hwasa’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “So you can send me ideas, for the sleeve.”

“Ah, of course.” Your cheeks burn as you take out your cash, counting out a surprisingly small amount. “That sounds good. I guess I’ll just have to be patient, then.”

“I guess so. Call me, Y/N,” she smiles, handing your phone back with a new contact in.

Being patient is going to be so damn hard. 

[purplecatghostposts]

if you're still doing the writing drabble asks, could you please do frenrey and number 3?

Of course!!

—

Everyone has their limits. Human or not, there’s a point where you can’t deal with everything yourself and you need someone to lean on.

Benrey doesn’t reach his easily, but even he’s not immune. Slowly but surely, exhaustion chips away at his resolve until there’s not much left. Benrey might have certain inhuman abilities that make it take a while, but Benrey also has a habit of using those a bit too much.

And now he was running out of stamina.

Everything piled up against him. Benrey and Gordon were separated from the rest of the Science Team, a horde of soldiers had tracked them down and were now actively trying to kill them, and Benrey had died one too many times to count.

Benrey could die and come back- no big deal- but it also took a sizable amount of his energy to do. And as much as he wanted to deny it, he was now running on pure fumes.

Not that he’s gonna tell Gordon that.

The pair hide in a closet, both keeping as still as they possibly can. Outside, mixed voices of soldiers search for them, marching around a bit too close for comfort. Benrey leans against the wall, trying not to make it too obvious that he’s relying on it for support. Gordon stands a foot away from him, gun raised and fixated on the door. He doesn’t take his eyes off of it for a second.

There’s too much tension in the air. It’s suffocating Benrey, making him squirm and it takes everything in him not to say something. When the voices and footsteps of the soldiers get further and further away however, he doesn’t bother to hold it in any longer.

“Seem kinda tense there, Feetman.” Benrey whispers.

Gordon sends him a glare. “Take things seriously for once.” He hisses back. “Our lives are on the line- no, wait, just mine. Because you can’t die. God, that’s why you don’t care, isn’t it?”

“I care...” Benrey mumbles halfheartedly. He doesn’t have the energy to argue further. Gordon scoffs and that’s the end of that conversation. Unfortunately for Gordon, Benrey doesn’t intend to shut up. “Think we can get out of here? Go uh... Whatever it is you do to relax- crawl through vents like a rat? Gordon Ratman?”

Gordon has to take in a deep breath at that. Benrey snickers to himself. Gordon’s always been easy to rile up- all he has to do is spit out the first things that come to his head and Gordon sputters at him. His face always gets so red- s’cute honestly. Makes Benrey want to plant a smooch on his cheek just to see how red he can get. And perhaps for his own personal pleasure as well.

Denying Gordon was incredibly attractive to him (for multiple reasons) was something he stopped doing a long time ago.

“Do you- do you ever think before you say anything, Benrey? Do you even know what a filter is?”

Benrey gives a sharp grin. “I have never had a thought in my life.”

Gordon almost laughs. Benrey takes that as a win. “Yeah, that checks. I-”

Gordon is cut off when a soldier suddenly barges through the door, gun raised and finger on the trigger. Gordon freezes on accident, but Benrey is quicker.

Benrey doesn’t think. He does the first thing that pops into his head, and when he sees the soldier aim for Gordon, everything else is thrown out the window.

Benrey pushes Gordon out of the way. There’s a sharp pain that pierces his side and his knees buckle. Another few shots send alarm through him but when Benrey looks up, the soldier is dead on the ground and Gordon is still standing, untouched.

Gordon lowers his arm, shaking himself. “Shit. Uh, thanks for the-” he turns, eyes going impossibly big when he sees him. “B- Benrey?”

Benrey gives him a shaky grin. “Sick shootin’, Feetman.” One hand attempts to cover up the bullet wound in his side. He refuses to react, no matter how much it hurts. Benrey attempts to push himself to his feet but he wobbles, causing Gordon to reach out and steady him.

“Whoa- whoa! Jesus, slow down.”

“Psh.” Benrey waves him off with his free hand. “‘M fiiine, Feetman. Don’t get your uhhh hev suit in a twist ‘bout it.”

Benrey stumbles to his feet but his head spins. Subtly as he can, he uses the wall for support but Gordon’s gaze burns a hole into him. He notices now, eyes narrowing but not with hostility but rather determination.

“Benrey, you’ve- you’ve died a lot today.” Gordon says slowly, deliberately.

“What about it?” Benrey shrugs, hoping to brush it off and drop the conversation.

Gordon however, is nothing if not persistent. He presses harder. “You’ve been hugging the wall too. You’ve been slower too- less chatty.”

“Been missing the sound of my voice?” He forces out a laugh, even if he gets a sting of pain when he moves.

“Benrey.” His tone is deadly serious. “Are you- are you okay?”

“‘Course-”

“Don’t lie to me.”

His words are sharp, piercing right through his crumbling facade and it all comes crashing down. Benrey’s eyes fall. He doesn’t say a word and it somehow speaks volumes.

“Sit down.” Benrey blinks when he hears it. Sharp, commanding- is he using his dad voice on him? “I’m not arguing about this. Sit down.” Oh shit he totally is.

Benrey drops easily- half because of Gordon and half because his legs were barely supporting him as is. “Let me see.” Benrey lifts his hand off of his wound for a moment. His hand is coated in red, making him internally flinch.

Gordon examines it for a moment, eyebrows knitting together. “Doesn’t look fatal at least but we definitely need to get that patched up.” His eyes drift towards the door. “There should be a medkit somewhere around here... Stay right here, I’ll be back.”

Gordon leaves. Benrey feels like he’s dreaming- there’s no way Gordon is taking care of him right now.

Benrey pintches himself. He doesn’t wake up.

...Huh.

Gordon’s taking care of him and that’s... That leaves a funny feeling inside. It’s not like all the others- the obvious feeling of love burning in his chest when he gets Gordon to laugh- but rather softer. Gentle. Warm and wrapping around him and telling him everything’s going to be okay.

Benrey wants to feel like that all the time.

The sweet voice acts on its own, bits of orange and light blue leaving him but the song is different than he’s used to. More like a loud hum than anything. Colors swirl around him and Benrey relaxes his shoulders.

Benrey doesn’t question the footsteps approaching- no matter how fast they are. He doesn’t even notice the newcomer in the doorway until he hears the gunshot. He jumps, but to his surprise, the soldier that found him now lies dead on the ground. Gordon enters after him, glaring at the body.

“Don’t touch him.” He hisses. And Benrey feels a much more familiar burn in his chest that makes his cheeks burn up.

Gordon glances to Benrey. “You alright?” His gaze flickers to the sweet voice still hanging in the air and back. “What does... Orange to light blue mean?”

Orange to light blue means I’m at home with you. Benrey laughs it off. “Eh, doesn’t matter. You got the good stuff?”

“...I hate that I know exactly what you’re asking.” Gordon holds up the medkit, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, there’s some painkillers in here. You gonna stay still while I patch you up?”

“Mmm... Maybe.” Gordon sends him a flat look. “Jeez, alright, I’ll be good. I’ll be so good- the best.”

“Stop talking, you’ll distract me.” Gordon removes the bodies of the soldiers and shuts the door. He sits down by Benrey, already starting to take out bandages and painkillers. “Just relax. I actually do have medical training, I’ll take care of this.”

Benrey nods. His life is in Gordon’s hands and he has a feeling he’s got nothing to fear.

(Eventually the rest of the Science Team finds them. Gordon startles but is immediately relieved when he sees them. Benrey leans on his shoulder, fast asleep.)

—

These always turn out so much longer than I intend... Oops. Anyways, I hope you like it! Feel free to send another request! I really wanna write short things right now!