#and falls in love with him even more watching him scream and shout in exhilaration from being able to fly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silverskye13 · 2 years

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I love how all the hermits and hels have different relationships with each other!! Like the hels are all mirrors of their respective person and how the different hermits interact with them is so cool! Also Tango straight up snatching his hels is hilarious, imagine if ren or wels walked in on them building it would be fantastic. Or tango just randomly yoinking tanguish when he needs help escaping something. They seem like a fun duo! :D

Tanguish was a bad helsmit. That wasn't opinion, or conjecture, or bad self-esteem or even really up for debate. It was just a statement of fact. He didn't mean to be. Really. It wasn't a decision he made one day, though liability was in him somewhere. He hadn't admitted it to himself yet, and probably he would someday. The fact remained though. For better or for worse, he was a bad hels. He was just made that way.

---

"Get back here you little thief!" Helsknight screamed, pounding after him down the street. Tanguish flinched and dashed around a corner, clutching the knight's coin purse tight in his claws. He laughed, but it was less the exhilarated thrill-laugh of victory and more the odd-squeak shrill of barely contained panic. This was bad? Yeah, this was bad.

(He definitely shouldn't have stolen from the second scariest helsmet he knew of. But he couldn't help himself! It'd been right there, out in the open. Helsknight should know better. You don’t just leave your coin purse dangling on your hip at perfect stealing height! It’s like putting a wallet in your back pocket: you’re not exactly asking to get robbed, but you’re sure as hels not making it hard!)

Tanguish skid down an alley, vaulted nimbly over a wall, and let out a horrified gasp when the crash of armor told him Helsknight was still right behind him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Tanguish gasped. "You can afford to lose it though!"

"You'll be losing your head when I catch you!" Helsknight snarled from, really, unacceptably close behind him. Tanguish had about half a breath to think, ‘Oh, he runs faster than me,’ before Helsknight tackled him from behind, and they went tumbling to the ground. The offending coin purse slipped from Tanguish’s hands and scattered diamonds onto the dirty cobblestones in a way that reminded him of someone muddying a stained glass window - mildly blasphemous, but still kinda pretty, all things considered.

(This was, in hindsight, a very dumb thing to be paying attention to when there was a large, angry knight shoving an armored knee into his left kidney, but he had his priorities).

Helsknight braced a hand against Tanguish’s shoulder and pulled the other back for a punch, “I’m gonna--!”

“Heyyyyy Tanguish!” a familiar, chipper voice piped up in Tanguish’s head. “Buddy, pal, you doing anything right now? I could use a ha-”

“Yes I’d love to help!” Tanguish shouted, shielding his face from Helsknight’s fist. The steel gauntlet arched towards him and Tanguish screwed his eyes shut. A hand, all claws and no gauntlet, clamped on his arm and yanked. His stomach leaped into his throat as he felt himself suddenly falling.

If Tanguish hadn’t just disappeared through his barely-present reflection in a facet of one of Helsknight’s diamonds, he would’ve watched Helsknight punch the nether brick of the alley floor so hard it cracked the tile. He would’ve watched Helsknight snarl and shake his fist, and curse as he tried to unbend the metal of his gauntlet from where it was now shaped to every knuckle. Then he would’ve seen Helsknight stand, kick a nearby trash can so hard it crumpled like a can of soda, and pick up his diamonds and his spilled coin purse. (Or, more realistically, if Tanguish hadn’t just fallen through his reflection guided by Tango’s hand, he would have instead been punched so hard in the face he’d lose six memories, three ounces of his dwindling common sense, and his claim to having never broken his nose. As fate would have it though, Tanguish was pulled through his reflection from the hels dimension straight into Hermitcraft at his double’s behest, so he saw none of these things.)

Most of the other helsmets knew when, why, how they were made. There was, for example, The Red King. He was made during Third Life, a last-ditch effort to protect something precious, a sacrifice on a black altar. There was Helsknight, made when Welsknight’s many fears and shortcomings finally grew a spine and started walking, because he wouldn’t confront them any other way. Cleo was made to honor a death game, and split from her hermit when that death game ended for her, and now she stood as a monument to ZombieCleo’s losses. JoeKills was… well… he was a lot of things. There were many more helsmets and hels denizens and dark mirrors and evil halves that lived in hels, and all of them seemed to know what they were about.

Tanguish didn’t know when, or why, or how he was, really. He knew what he was - he was a helsmet. There was nothing else he could really be. He knew some of Tango’s Last Life memories, but he didn’t think he was made because of them. He remembered helping Tango with Decked Out, and that had certainly happened before Last Life. It was more like, those memories brought Tanguish into focus, like he was a list of shortcomings simmering in the background before suddenly stumbling into the light. If he thought about it really hard, and guessed as best as he could, he might say he was born from Tango’s sacrifices. His unwilling sacrifices. From playing second fiddle to everyone else’s more compelling volitions. Tanguish thought this made the most sense. He was, in fact, very good at playing second best to Tango.

Tanguish tumbled out of Tango’s reflection in an ice pillar and fell with a startled ‘oof!’ onto cold stone. He opened his eyes, took a breath to say something, and then slammed it shut again when a loud roar reverberated around the artificial cavern. Tanguish looked at Tango backing away in the snow, looked to the towering creature lumbering towards him, and thought maybe he would’ve preferred the broken nose waiting for him in hels. Most people preferred broken bones to facing down an entire Warden. (Tango wasn't most people.)

Tanguish scrambled to his feet and ran, snatching Tango’s wrist as he did so. The pair of them sprinted wordlessly, which didn’t really matter, since the Warden had immaculate hearing, and the sound of their breathing and footsteps served it just fine. The Warden howled, an ear-splitting noise that shattered shockwave lines in the icicles and columns Tango had spent weeks building. They gonged and crashed like the world’s deadliest wind-chimes over their heads, and Tanguish tracked a few to their left and right as they fell. This was their only saving grace; the falling ice was much louder than Tango and Tanguish were. The Warden, confused, hesitated as it tried to track the different sounds.

“Hey man, thanks for comi-”

“Shhhhh!” Tanguish interrupted him. Tango gave an exaggerated nod and a thumbs-up and focused on running.

They were good at that: running. It was one of the things they shared in common. They were both terribly good at running from things. (Tanguish got his practice stealing, and Tango got his wrangling dangerous creatures, but practice was practice no matter where it came from.) They were also terribly good at avoiding the fact that they were hels and hermit, and that wasn't really supposed to make them friends. They ran so fast together, so often, they'd gotten quite good at running from what they were supposed to be (not friends) and you tended to grow fond of the people you kept pace with. (They kept pace well.)

Tanguish couldn't remember why they first met. It was in much the same way he first spawned in hels: wholly accidental, a bit sudden, and mildly inconvenient. He hadn't asked to be created. He didn't particularly mind that he was, but it also wasn't exactly expected, springing into consciousness from random emotions and void. But he did.

When he first met Tango, it was when he was minding his own business, counting a collection of coins he'd stolen from someone in the main market. The person was from a place called Pixandria, or they were the hels version of someone who'd been to Pixandria at some point, and they had the most beautiful copper coins Tanguish had ever seen. He took them onto his favorite roof - a tall steepled thing made of deepslate and burnished iron that he thought might be a church, or some villain-y builder's lair. He'd never been inside. He didn't care about interiors much. He liked things. He liked those pretty little copper coins. He flipped each one in his hand, marked their faces, cataloged their iconography, sulked a little that he hadn't stolen more. And then a voice interrupted him.

"They used me, and I got selfish."

Tanguish looked around the roof, confused. There was no one else here. No one else had his claws for scaling buildings, or his tail for balance, or the ice that sprung to his touch that his skin liked to stick to for just a few seconds before it melted, helping him cling to things.

"I mean, I was trying to be cool, and I blew it. Hah - literally. That's a pretty pathetic way to go."

Tanguish looked down at the coins in his hand, at his reflection on the red-orange surface, and was not ashamed to admit he thought the coins were talking to him. It took awhile for him to realize it was his reflection, and not the odd face of the coin, speaking. It was a reflection he could barely see, a black silhouette with tired, despondent eyes.

"I bet no one cared, either."

Tanguish tilted his head at the coins in his hand, waited for them to speak again, and when they didn't, tossed them one-by-one into a fountain far below. All of them, except for the shiniest one. That one he polished and slipped in his pocket. Talking coins were pretty rare, he figured. (He was right.)

"Okay," Tanguish breathed, hiding behind a half-finished wall, "we're pretty far away now."

"Are we out of its hearing range?" Tango squeaked, louder than Tanguish (that was the only way he knew how to talk: just a few decibels louder than Tanguish at all times). "I mean that thing is scary good at hearing."

The two of them fell silent. They strained their ears to listen. In the distance Tanguish heard the quiet clicks of sculk sensors listening for noise, but nothing else. Finally, he nodded.

"Okay," Tango whispered, "so first of all, sorry for not warning you-"

Tanguish shrugged.

"-but I figured you wouldn't be too-- yeah, exactly. You're not mad. Of course you're not. I get mad at things."

Tanguish wasn't entirely sure he'd ever been mad before. Tango told him it was the kind of emotion you didn't forget once you'd felt it. Tango tended to be right about these kinds of things. (He got mad at redstone all the time - or at least, Tanguish figured he did. Redstone seemed like something you'd get mad at, and Tango was, in part, made of the stuff.)

"I thought we weren't catching Wardens until Decked Out was closer to done?" Tanguish asked him, a little annoyed, but still sort of favoring this to Helsknight's wrath.

"Well, you know, we did say that. But I wanted to just test some shriekers-"

"Tango."

"Good news! The shriekers definitely work!"

Tanguish chuckled. "Good news."

Tango shot him some finger-guns and grinned. "Well it's gotta be good, if it's even got Grim McGee over here laughing."

Tanguish found himself chuckling more. He shook his head.

"Anyway, so I was thinking-"

The Warden's growl sounded suddenly, bouncing off every icicle and snow bank in the foundling Decked Out cavern. Tango and Tanguish moved as one, slapping their hands on each other’s mouths to shut each other up. Eyes wide, they watched each other. They listened. The Warden sniffed twice, groaned in exasperation, and wandered further into the ice.

The first time Tango met Tanguish, it too, had been by accident. One moment Tanguish was leaning into the fountain by his favorite spot to drink some water. The next, he was sputtering and clawing his way out of a beautiful bay. His claws grabbed a cartoonishly built boardwalk and he hauled himself out of the water, ice smoothing the surface at his touch. He found himself staring at the reflection he’d heard talking to him for the past… well… he didn’t know how long.

It was funny, really, looking back on it. They were like a pair of scared cats who thought each of them respectively was the only cat in the world. They tumbled away from each other, all bristles and spines and fire and ice and redstone and skulk and it was a calm night from anywhere else on Hermitcraft but there. They blinked, they stared, they recognized what each of them were. They were perfect mirrors of shock and confusion.

Tanguish didn’t know what was going through Tango’s head. (He never knew what was going through his head, if there was anything going on up there at all besides the impulses and whims that drove him.) For his part, Tanguish spent the moments thinking hermits and helsmits were supposed to hate each other, eat each other up like fire and ice, burn and hiss like redstone and skulk. They were supposed to fight maybe, or at least bring out the worst in each other. And Tanguish thought if he’d known he’d meet his other half so soon, he’d maybe have spent less time stealing, and more time learning how to properly handle your double.

Then Tango held his hand out to Tanguish, and flashed him a dazzling smile that was equal parts nervous and excited. “Hey! Oh man, uh -- well, I guess you already know who I am, huh? It’s nice to finally meet you!”

Tanguish had expected treachery (as he should, given who and why and what they were to each other). But the thing about Tango was he was friendly, and transparent in that way friendly people are when they’re trying to make new friends. His red eyes were scary, shielded by impractically large glasses, and his hair sparked and flickered, and the freckles on his skin were charged with redstone, and Tanguish thought by nature of who and why and what they were, taking Tango’s hand should hurt.

“We’re supposed to hate each other,” Tanguish pointed out to him.

Tango shrugged. “Why should we? Opposites attract, right?” Then he’d flashed another dazzling, teeth-barred and infectious grin. “Besides, I was never that great at doing what I was supposed to.”

A proper helsmet would’ve refused. Scratched his hand away maybe, or done some other dramatic thing that set them apart as enemies. He should loathe the voice he’d been hearing in his head, always talking down to itself, or despairing over troubles and failures. At the very least, some primal helsmet-y thing should drive him to be cruel and self-righteous.

Instead, Tanguish took the hand extended to him, and found it was pleasantly warm. Tango winced, obviously fearing his ice would sting and freeze, and when it didn’t, he pulled Tanguish to his feet.

“I’m Tango,” Tanguish had introduced himself, because Tango hadn’t given him anything different yet.

Tango smiled at him, close-mouthed and melancholy. Tanguish preferred his other smile, despite how sharp his teeth looked. “Yeah… you really are, aren’t you buddy?”

“You got a name tag on you?”

“Yep! I had it all sorted out,” Tango said proudly, and Tanguish shushed him. Tango continued only a little softer this time. “We just gotta nametag him and lure him into the glass box I showed you. Easy-peasy! And hey, then that’s one less Warden we gotta wrangle when Decked Out II is fully operational. This is less work in the long run.”

Tango is saying this like he’s trying to convince Tanguish it’s a good idea. In reality, he’s trying to convince himself, but Tanguish lets him talk. He would probably follow Tango down a dragon’s throat, if Tango told him it was a good idea. This wasn’t a dragon’s throat. It was a Warden’s crushing embrace (Tanguish was more scared of falling than small spaces, so this was for him the lesser of two very bad things. Tango probably felt differently).

“I’ll name tag it,” Tanguish told him.

“You don’t have to do that,” Tango laughed nervously, and it bounced off the icicles and out into the cavern around them. Tanguish looked out into the field of ice like he could track the noise. All he saw was the quiet glitter. That, and skulk. There was a lot of skulk in here already. Tango had been busy. Really the whole cavern was impressive. They’d planned it together. The icicles were Tango’s idea - the better to make you feel like you were walking into the mouth of something big and scary. The floor was slick, and every surface was hard in a way that amplified noise, except where the sculk creeped, listening and feeling and crawling like skin. Tanguish thought it was pretty, but then again, he probably would.

“You brought me here to help you.”

“Well I was thinking you’d be moral support,” Tango lied. Tanguish knew he was lying, because his nose scrunched up a little like the words tasted funny (Tango always did this when he was lying). “But hey, if you’re offering, I mean--”

Tango motioned in a mock ‘after you’ sort of bow. Tanguish grabbed the name tag from him and started walking. The skulk clicked. The shriekers chirped. The Warden was silent, and Tanguish hoped that meant it was waiting on noise, and not that it had burrowed somewhere. The ice showed him his reflection, because Tango was here beside him and not in a mirror somewhere.

“This is huge,” Tanguish grunted, clambering up a wall to get a better vantage point. He reached for Tango and pulled his double up beside him.

“I know right?” Tango beamed pridefully. “Dug out the bottom of a mountain for it! You should see upstairs. The snow biome’s almost done. Just gotta make a few more ice spikes.”

They looked, they listened, they hopped down the wall and kept going.

“That was a good suggestion by the way,” Tango grinned, “the ice spikes.”

“I like tall things,” Tanguish told him.

“Aren’t you scared of heights though?”

“Falling.”

“Huh. You ever used an elytra before? I think you’d like it.”

“Do you fall with it?”

“Sometimes.” Tango chuckled in that way people did when they were remembering something unfortunate. “Mostly though, you fly.”

“Oh. That sounds nice.”

“It’s a parasite.”

Tanguish took a bite of a muffin he’d stolen off his favorite pastry cart and shamelessly eavesdropped. He didn’t have much else to do but sit on rooftops and eavesdrop and steal things - unless he was running from someone he’d stolen from. He did that often as well. The muffin he’d stolen today had nuts in it, which wasn’t his favorite thing in the world, but he’d take it over nothing any day. The couple he was eavesdropping on were a guard and a butcher, judging from their clothes. The guard, as people tended to do when they were bored and procrastinating getting somewhere, had started reading the newspaper her beef cuts were wrapped in. The butcher listened, sharpening his knife. There was no one standing in line at the stall, so he let her talk.

“It spreads when it eats,” she continued. “That’s probably how it took so long to find it. Growing up by the bedrock like that, it could only really eat ghasts if they floated too close.”

Tanguish looked at the nether ceiling. It was high and well built here, a rare gift from Evil Xisuma. There was a plaque about it somewhere, how he’d helped terraform the ceiling to make it look like a kaleidoscope of stars. Tanguish had never met Evil Xisuma, but the name suggested they probably wouldn’t like each other. Evil people didn’t like most people.

“What are we going to do about it?” the butcher asked the guard. “We’re not in danger, are we?”

“Not as long as no one gets close,” she explained. “Skulk mostly feeds on corpses anyway. But wander around it too long and it’ll find a way to get you, and with how dangerous hels is anyway, well--”

She spoke like the danger was thrilling. To her, it probably was.

“There’s only one way to deal with a parasite,” the guard continued, “you’ve got to starve it of what it wants. Otherwise, it’ll spread until it’s the only thing that’s left. That’s probably how it got here in the first place. It ate out everything else on some world somewhere, and some hels from that place tracked it here when they couldn’t find their other half.”

Tanguish frowned at his muffin. He broke apart a piece of it and watched as frost hardened the bread. He wondered how long he’d have to hold it for the skulk on his arms to leap to it.

“Oh shoot.”

“What?”

Tanguish turned to look at Tango, who’d stopped in his tracks abruptly. He stared wide-eyed ahead of them, unblinking. Tanguish was on the edge of asking what was going on, when Tango waved a hand in front of his eyes, blinked, and did it again. He mouthed the word ‘blind’. Tanguish mouthed a wide, “Oh” that Tango couldn’t see. He forgot the Warden could blind people. It didn’t work on Tanguish. He was made of ice and skulk, after all. Something about the way he was made didn’t care that the Warden ate the light. Tango did, though.

Tanguish grabbed Tango’s wrist and pulled him along, leading him through the maze of ice and skulk. They crept as fast as they could past sensors and shriekers, wincing at the little noises so dangerously close. Tanguish was starting to hear the Warden now, its grumbles and groans as it walked, the loud huffing of its breath as it drew closer to them. It was tracking Tango. His smell probably bit its nose like redstone, and it followed relentlessly. Tanguish could ditch him, leave him stranded in the ice as bait. He could tag the Warden while it was preoccupied and run, leave Tango to deal with the fallout, dive through his reflection somewhere. That was probably what a good helsmet would do. Leave their hermit to suffer, steep in feelings of betrayal and ill-deserving. It’d make him stronger, turn him into something that wasn’t hiding in his hermit’s shadow.

Tanguish was a bad helsmet, though.

Instead, he pulled Tango along, and Tango trusted him blindly. Literally blindly, but he’d probably trust him blindly anyway. Tanguish shoved him at the corner where two half-finished maze walls met.

“Don’t move,” Tanguish breathed in his ear, and Tango nodded and froze. Tanguish stood in front of him bravely, bristled like a startled cat. He grabbed an armful of skulk off the ground, stuck his tongue out at the way it pulsed against his skin. He could feel its little roots creeping on his arms, whatever odd plant-flesh it was made of reaching to infect him. Parasite. But Tanguish was made of skulk and ice, and while the skulk that wasn’t his felt uncomfortable, it certainly couldn’t harm him.

The Warden growled and emerged from behind a pair of ice columns. It took two deep breaths, sniffing for Tango, and shambled in their direction. Its footsteps were heavy. They didn’t shake the ground, but Tanguish still felt like he could feel them in his toes. It was like the skulk under his feet responded to the movement, saying through tiny motions and flashes and pulses here, what you’re looking for is here. Come get it. Come kill the thing that isn’t us.

The Warden rose like a dark tower in Tanguish’s vision, blocking out the rest of the half-built cavern that Tango had made. It leaned over Tanguish, breath whooshing in heavy huffs as it smelled for its prey. Tanguish only pressed himself a little closer to Tango and hugged the skulk in his arms tighter, and held his breath. He felt a little lightheaded, because he was scared and not breathing, and doing his best to pretend his noisy, living body was instead a statue of some kind. With one shuddering hand, Tanguish reached forward and gently hooked the name tag on one of the Warden’s exposed ribs. Its heart was loud and close, mesmerizing in the way it moved, in the way whatever soul-stuff swirled around it pulsed and flickered its eerie blue light. If it weren’t such a dangerous, fruitless endeavor, Tanguish would try to steal it. Pluck the pretty, flashing, pulsing thing from its home in those grinning ribs and hang it up on one of his favorite rooftops. It would probably stop glowing though, just as soon as it left the Warden’s chest.

The Warden let out one more long, low, growling groan. It turned and lumbered away.

“I’m a parasite,” Tanguish informed Tango matter-of-factly from his reflection in a broken window.

“What? No you’re not.” Tango scowled. “Don’t say things like that about yourself, man. It’ll kill your self-esteem.”

Tanguish tilted his head at his double, and tried not to feel grateful for the concern. Tango didn’t seem to realize this wasn’t an opinion. It wasn’t conjecture. It wasn’t bad self-esteem and it wasn’t up for debate. It was, in its simplest form, a warning. Tango should be grateful for it. Most leeches didn’t give an introduction when they attached themselves to your skin.

“I’ll just get stronger if you keep feeding me.”

Tango opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it again, finding nothing to say. Tango was optimistic to a fault. He seemed to think the two of them were allowed to both be strong, to thrive. He seemed to think they were here for each other, to help each other, to make each other better. That is not how helsmets and hermits worked. At least, Tanguish didn’t think so.

Regardless, Tango kept looking at him with that odd, conflicted expression.

“I’m not here to help you, Tango,” Tanguish said quietly. “I will get worse.”

“We’re friends.”

“We’re comfortable.”

Like an old fur coat, made of long dead things but still pleasantly warm.

“We can be friends,” Tango insisted, his voice withering. “We don’t have to be like all the other hels and hermits out there. We can be friends.”

Tanguish sighed. He told Tango the only truth he knew for sure. “I will devour you, Tango.”

Tango closed his eyes and shook his head. His face in Tanguish’s reflection disappeared. Tanguish hoped they never talked again. That was the only way to kill a parasite, after all. Starve it of the thing it wanted.

Together they lured the Warden into Tango’s glass box. It couldn’t burrow through it, couldn’t despawn because of the tag. They had it well and truly trapped. Sure, it screeched and roared, and shook the walls with its sonic howls, but eventually it fell silent and submitted to its fate. It was kind of pathetic, sure, but it would be happy enough smacking around players once Decked Out II was done. Tanguish thought it was crazy keeping a pet Warden around, but Tango had a habit for keeping company with dangerous things. He had a pet helsmet, after all. A pet helsmet who had even grown to like him. Who put himself in harm's way to protect him. Who guided him through the dark when he should leave him behind.

“Where are the other hermits?” Tanguish asked when the Warden was finally still in its cage. “Why didn’t they come and help you?”

Tango winced and pulled out a shulker box full of ice so he could pretend he was busy when he talked. “Oh, you know, they were just… I mean Scar and Grian are doing collabs. Cub is making his crazy death game. The Soup Crew are all gathering materials together--”

“Did you ask them for help?”

Tango grimaced. He rifled uselessly through his shulker box.

“You should ask them first next time.”

“I knew you’d be available,” Tango shrugged. “Besides, you want something done right, you do it yourself.”

Tanguish nodded. He liked the praise, the idea he was the only one who could help Tango in a tough situation. It made his back a little straighter. The skulk, like bioluminescent freckles on his arms, glowed a little brighter. He felt warm. He felt fed.

(Maybe Tanguish wasn’t such a bad helsmet after all.)

#the barking writer #tangotek #hels!Tango #Tanguish #this was supposed to be a lot funnier #but also i like where this went so #[shrug]#you win some you lose some #just realized maybe i should elaborate a little in the tags here #hello the idea of Tango dragging Tanguish along on a harrowing escape is what jump-started this #that's why the ask is attached #also thank you anon very much for the kind words #they are a fun duo! i just write dark things

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writemekpop · 3 years

Text

(Un)arranged Marriage | Kim Jungwoo

Pairing: Kim Jungwoo x Reader

Summary: You have to stop your best friend Jungwoo from escaping his wedding... But your massive crush on him complicates things.

Genre: Fluff, angst, South Asian Y/N

Word Count: 0.7k

Gif: @xiaojun

Your fingers hover over the pearly white keys of the harmonium. The whole wedding congregation have fallen silent.

The second you start playing, the bride will enter, and the wedding will begin.

But your fingers are frozen.

You should be happy – it’s your sister Pallavi’s wedding to Jungwoo, for god’s sake! Then why does watching them kiss make you feel so hollow inside? You wish that your sister was marrying any other man… just not Jungwoo.

Jungwoo is… enchanting.

He’s like a sunrise: you’ve seen him hundreds of times, but you never stop being dazzled by his brightness. You’ve always been the sibling who “needs to loosen up”. But when you’re with Jungwoo, you find yourself sleeping on the roof of your building under the stars, throwing your shoes into the ripples of the Mahadayi River, running around barefoot under monsoon rains.

You can’t quite pinpoint the moment when Jungwoo’s hand brushing your thigh became the highlight of your day.

No. You blink back to reality. You lost your chance with Jungwoo. He’s been your best friend since you were 5 years old. You’ve had two decades to make Jungwoo yours – and you failed. Anyway, family comes first. Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for the people you love.

You start playing the piece you’d practiced.

Pallavi wafts out, looking radiant in her shimmering red and gold sari.

She’s still walking when you hear something.

It’s the best man, Yuta, running up to the microphone behind the priest’s stand.

“Sorry guys, there’s going to be a slight delay to the wedding.”

Everyone flinches as the microphone screams with static. Then, a moment later, Yuta continues, much faster and quieter, “You have one instruction. Do not let anyone know that Jungwoo is gone!”

The guests erupt into chatter. Yuta’s face turns very red as he realises that the microphone was still on – and everybody now knows that the groom has made a run for it.

You run up to Pallavi, who is now standing at the side of the marquee, next to Yuta.

Pallavi is holding her phone to her ear, her golden kitten heel tapping on the carpet. She turns to you.

“Do you even know how embarrassing this is? The family company’s investors are here!”

You shake your head. “Did you guys fight again?”

Pallavi laughs sarcastically. “Oh, didi, we’re always fighting. Just find that idiot. Now!”

You run to the back of the marquee, to the two-storey ‘wedding building’ containing the banquet hall for the reception meal, the bar and lots of changing rooms for the bride and groom. You feel strangely exhilarated, like you’re a child again, in a crazy Go-Kart race.

You run through the double doors and straight to the marble staircase. You have a gut feeling that you know where Jungwoo is. Whenever he gets in a tough situation, he always wanted to be as close to the sky as possible.

You’re panting by the time you reach the door leading to the roof.

Pushing it open, you scan the space. The sandy concrete roof is empty, with nothing but a few plant pots to the sides and a low wall stopping people from falling off.

At the far end, a man in a very expensive kurta stands with his back to you.

“Jungwoo!” you call.

Jungwoo turns around. He grins at the sight of you.

But you’re not smiling. You shake your head, your body stiff. “What the hell are you playing at? This isn’t a joke, Jungwoo. Do you know how upset Pallavi is?”

Jungwoo shakes his head. You notice that his eyes are a little puffy. Has he been crying? “She’s just worried I’m embarrassing her, that’s all.”

“Go back there and apologise. Heck, go back there and get married!”

Jungwoo sighs, sitting down on the wall edging the roof. He looks gorgeous in his tightly fitted silk kurta. His eyes twinkle under his dense brown curls.

Suddenly, your phone rings, vibrating in your silver side bag. You pull it out. The caller ID says ‘Little sis’.

“Pallavi?” you say, holding the phone to your ear.

“Well? Found him yet?”

You look at Jungwoo. He’s shaking his head furiously, his hands clasped together in a praying action. You don’t know. As a sister, you have a duty to protect Pallavi’s marriage. But for some reason, you never could say no to Jungwoo.

Gulping, you say, “No. No sign of him… yet.”

You snap the phone closed, glaring at Jungwoo.

He pulls off his jacket, and throws that off the building too.

Jungwoo’s voice is low. “I’m thirty years old.”

Standing up, he pulls off his tie with both hands and throws it up, where it catches the wind and swirls off the building.

He smiles faintly, looking at the sky. “Without regret, they fall and scatter… cherry blossoms.”

Finally, he kicks off both of his fancy dress shoes and throws them across the roof. One of them teeters on the side wall, till it finally rests there, just about balancing.

“I’m an unemployed, failed actor, about to marry a woman who can barely stand the sight of me.”

He’s always been so melodramatic. That’s part of his charm. Jungwoo always seems to be acting a role in a great divine play no mere mortal can know about.

You run forward and grab Jungwoo’s shoulders, forcing him to look at you. “Get it together, man! You need to grow up. You have a loving fiancée waiting for you down there.”

Jungwoo strokes your cheek with his hand. You shiver at his touch, an involuntary gasp sucking through your mouth. You get a sudden urge to hold his hand in yours, squeeze it tight.

“And why do you care so much?” Jungwoo asks, smirking.

You feel suddenly hot under his caramel gaze. “B-because she’s my sister.”

Why do you feel like the one in trouble? Jungwoo’s the guy who abandoned his bride, not you!

“Really? Seems kinda like you’re… hiding something.” His face nears yours. “I know you, Y/n. I see the way your jaw stiffens when I kiss your sister. Am I not worthy?”

You snap. Pushing him off you, you shout, “I’m happy for you and Pallavi! How many times?”

“Just because it hurts to see you with Pallavi, that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you. Just because I wish it was me on that aisle, that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you. Just because I love you, jungwoo, that doesn’t mean I’m not- happy for you…”

Your voice tapers off as you hear yourself. For the first time, the pain of the man you love marrying someone else flows freely through you. You’re… in love with Jungwoo? All this time, you’d buried your jealousy deep under a layer of affection for Pallavi and family duty.

You’ve always been accused of ‘not being able to talk about your feelings’. But you pushed your feelings for Jungwoo down so deep you even hid them from yourself.

Jungwoo pulls you into a tight hug. You let your tears seep into his shoulder.

“I had no idea you felt that way,” he murmurs.

“Are you… going back to Pallavi?” you ask, your voice tiny.

Pulling back so he can look you in the eye, Jungwoo shakes his head. “I love you, Y/n, but…”

Your heart squeezes.

“I think I… hide in relationships. Look at me! I waited till the wedding day to address the problems in my relationship. But if you’ve taught me one thing, Y/n, it’s that I’m done hiding. I need to face my problems alone, and work out what I really want.”

Jungwoo kisses your hand. “Would you wait for me?”

You nod, smiling through your tears. “I’ve waited two decades. I think a couple months more won’t hurt.”

—

MASTERLIST

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

Text

Too Late (Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is my entry to @fuchsiagrasshopper's 200 Followers Writing Challenge. Congratulations again, love 💝

This is a variation on Ivar's death. Consider yourself warned. And... sorry 😔

The prompt, from the song Too Late, by Ashes Divides, is in bold and italics.

@zuxiezendler - Thank you for reassuring me (I needed it) and for beta reading this for me 🌺

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: Ivar is about to go to war against Alfred. His eyes are very blue, though.

Warnings: major character death; mention of blood and fatal wound (nothing graphic).

Words: 1815

When a hand lingers on his forehead, Ivar slowly opens his eyes before shifting in the makeshift bed and eventually sitting upright, allowing you to take a seat next to him. Looking at him with concern, you tilt your head to the side, one of your hands resting lightly on his chest while the other grazes his thigh.

Studying him, you bite your lower lip. "Your eyes have turned deep blue, Ivar. You know what that means, remember?" Ivar snorts and then rolls his eyes, visibly annoyed. You don't stop, though. "Hvitserk told me. Your brothers used to watch over you. They knew that when your eyes turned blue that you were in great danger of breaking your bones. And they would say 'Not today, Ivar. Not today.'"

Knitting his brow, your lover wearily rubs a filthy hand over his face, his eyes never leaving yours. "I remember." He finally nods, a half-smile curling his lips. "I know."

"You could let Hvitserk take command, Ivar. You'd stay behind, for once. I could even stay with you." You know you're walking on eggshells, but when Ivar answers, there's surprisingly no anger in his voice. Though the calm determination in his gaze tells you that arguing is pointless.

"No, Y/N." He shakes his head and grabs your hand, playing absently with your fingers. "No," he repeats, "Hvitserk must lead the back-up troops, it has to be someone I trust. As for you, I need you on the battlefield. You're our best shieldmaiden, and you know that. And...", he tilts his head, lightly shrugging, "I don't think we can defeat Alfred if I'm not there too... You know..." He taps his forehead with his pointer finger and you know exactly what he means. He's right. His men are fearsome warriors, but they sometimes – most of the time – need guidance when fighting, and who else could do that better than Ivar, with his cunning and extraordinary strategic mind?

No. He won't change his mind.

For the briefest moment, you think you should tell him. But no. It wouldn't change anything. You're not deluding yourself, he'd still go. And he'd demand that you stay behind. And that's not happening. It's an option you refuse to even consider. If he goes, you go. That's who you are. Both of you. A king – a warrior – and a shieldmaiden.

You'll tell him afterwards. Once it's all over. Once Alfred is defeated.

"Okay, then." Leaning in, you give him a peck on the lips before standing up. "Promise you'll be careful."

Flashing you a reassuring yet tired smile, he nods. "I always am."

The battle rages for hours now and you know you should feel it in your bones. The pain. The exhaustion. But you don't. Unharmed and powerful, a shield in your left hand, it's like you're flying, dodging blow after blow, slicing throat after throat, driving your trustworthy sword into chests or guts, as you slash your way through the enemies. Exhilarated, you shout war cries and you know that if they are cathartic to you, they scare the Saxon soldiers. The thought makes you laugh – and indeed a crazy laugh escapes your throat as you run forward, swinging your blade from side to side, momentarily crouching down as an axe flies over your head.

Attacking a Saxon with your shield, you beat him savagely with repeated blows to his skull before skewering him with your sword. As he falls to the ground, already dead, you look up to the sky for a second, and silently thank the gods, a beaming smile adorning your face. You love that. You're never more alive than on the battlefield. As you lower your gaze, eager to slaughter more and more Christians, your eyes catch something on the left.

And it's like the world stops spinning.

Like your heart stops beating.

And you stop breathing.

Petrified, you can't comprehend what you're seeing. It doesn't make sense. It can't make sense. Why is this Saxon stabbing Ivar? How can it be? Why isn't your lover fighting back? Why is he bleeding? Your shield and sword slipping out of your hands, the ringing in your ears is suddenly deafening, and for a fleeting second, you think you might throw up. But you won't. Because that can't be real. You're hallucinating, for sure. It can't be happening. It doesn't make sense. It can't. It simply can't.

A sudden cry of pain and the distinctive and all too familiar sound of a broken bone snap you out of your stupor and you rush over to your lover – 'Not today, Ivar, not today, no' – dropping to the ground next to him, your hand grazing his cheek. As you see the state he's in – his left leg unnaturally bent at the knee with exposed bone; his stomach covered with blood – a shiver runs down your spine and you gasp, filled with horror. You want to cry, and scream, and shout but instead you inhale deeply, blinking several times before locking eyes with his bloodied ones. Your man needs you.

"I'm here, Ivar, I'm here." As you carefully place his head on your lap, his hand grabs your arm, squeezing it. His eyelids flutter as he tries to focus his gaze on you. Weakly raising his free hand, he fails to touch your face and something between a sob and a whine escapes his lips. Gently intertwining his fingers with yours, you can't help but repeat yourself. "I'm here, my love, I'm here."

A faint shake of his head and then he speaks, his voice hoarse and barely a whisper. "You... You should leave... Leave, Y/N.." He swallows painfully, and a sob chokes in your throat as you see blood running out of his mouth. You shake your head, not trusting your voice, but Ivar, your stubborn lover, keeps speaking, mustering all his strength. "Leave, my love, you're... not safe... here..." He then lets out a shuddering breath, loosening his grip on your arm.

Raising your head and looking around, you see that your fellow warriors are gone. Someone, Haakon probably – you always saw Ivar's second in command as a coward – must have sounded the retreat, now that their king is down. You don't have time to dwell on it though as you realize that the two of you are now surrounded by Saxon soldiers, their swords pointed at you. You coldly glare at them for a few brief seconds before meeting King Alfred's gaze. The Saxon commander seems shocked as he looks with wide open eyes at the man lying in front of you.

"Lower your weapons!" You barely hear Alfred's order, your mind taken with other thoughts, and you don't bother to see if his soldiers obey. The truth is, Alfred and his men are the least of your concerns right now. No matter what happens, no matter what they do, you're not going anywhere.

Once more, giving your undivided attention to your lover, you shake your head, speaking with conviction and determination. "I'm not leaving your side, my love."

Ivar frowns and winces. "I want you to... be safe..." He mutters with great effort, clearly in terrible pain. "It makes... no difference if... if you stay. I'm..." He squeezes his eyes shut, and you're suddenly aware of how pale he is, his hand on your arm now ice cold. He eventually speaks again, his breathing ragged and shallow. "I'm going to... die anyway. Y/N," his voice is choked, and your eyes are full of tears, "I'm...dying."

He's right. He's dying. There's no denying it. As heartbreaking as this thought may be, it is no less true. You've been in enough battles, seen enough fatal injuries to not delude yourself. With a wound that bad, there's no chance of survival. Absolutely none. You know it won't take long.

But it doesn't change a single thing. How could you leave him here, in this foreign land, surrounded by strangers – by enemies? How could you? You don't want to be safe, you want to be with him, as long as you can.

You may not be able to save him, but you can be there. You want to be there.

I will not lose you to a world that doesn't care

To the monsters that would have you.

Your hand cups his face as you swallow thickly, blinking back tears. "And I want to be here. I won't leave you alone." The pain in your heart is such that you can hardly speak. Taking the deepest breath you can, you then bite your inner cheek so hard that you can taste the blood in your mouth. "You're not alone, my love. You don't have to face this alone."

Ivar's eyes are closed, and for a moment, you're not sure he heard you. If you're being honest, you're not sure he's still there with you, even if he's still breathing.

But then, his eyelids flutter open, revealing glassy eyes. There's no more light in them; no more fight. "Not today..." He mumbles, despair clear in his voice. And suddenly his face crumples and his eyes are full of tears and you can almost physically feel the panic coursing through his battered body. When he speaks, sobbing very hard, it's to say what you never thought you'd hear him say, his voice as shaky as your hand on his face.

"I'm afraid."

It rips your heart out.

"I'm afraid."

It tears you to pieces.

"I'm afraid."

It destroys you.

You hiccup, a hand moving to cover your mouth. You want to take his pain away, you want to die and let him live. Your head is spinning, you're dying from the inside, you're not sure you can do it, but you have to. You know you have to.

So, gathering the courage you thought you didn't have, you nod. With tears rolling down your face, you swallow hard and say, "I won't tell anyone." Shaking with long, racking sobs, you try to smile. "No one will ever forget Ivar the Boneless. And I will never forget you, my love."

The fear in his haunted eyes almost unbearable, you can just soothe him, a reassuring hand on his cheek. Your tears join his, splashing on his face as you whisper again and again. "You're not alone, my love... I'm right here, next to you... You're not alone..." Sliding your arm under his head, you clumsily lie down next to him, curling your limbs around his body, cradling him.

Never surrender you, I always be there

I will be there to wrap myself around you.

And then, with a last gasp, your lover stops breathing.

And your whole world just shatters around you over and over and over...

Time loses all meaning.

You can't move.

Can't think.

Can't cry.

Can't feel.

He's gone.

And you realize you never had a chance to tell him...

He's gone.

Tagging: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @a-mess-of-fandoms @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @ivarthebloodyking @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @fuchsiagrasshopper

#fuchsiagrasshopper200 #ivar #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar fic #ivar imagine #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #vikings imagine

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eureka-its-zico · 3 years

Text

Half Bitten Pt.5

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: You find yourself alone, without Jimin, and inside Namjoon’s home. Trapped with his followers and his need for dominance, you try and think of ways to escape. Your only options seem to either submit to him or learn to harness your dormant powers in hopes to give you your own bargaining tool: power. But is it possible to become the hunter when Namjoon, and now Jungkook, hunt for a taste of you at every turn.

Pairing- Jimin x Reader, Jungkook x Reader, Namjoon x Reader, Reader x BTS in general atp

Genre- Vampire!AU, Witch!AU, Heavy Smut 🔞 sub/dom mentions,

Words: 13k

Warnings: this chapter contains sexual content and small mentions of violence.

A/N: Okay, so this has taken a long time. I had to sit and really think about what and how I wanted this story to take shape and (after a lot of anxiety and a lot of stop/starts) I finally figured it out. I hope you all enjoy this labor of love. I hope the storyline peaks your Interest and that as always, you very much enjoy. Much Love, Jenn.

shout out to @dearneverlander for being amazing, reading over this, and entertaining me about this and other fic ideas. You are the best.

Tag list: @giveonslove @pjmnoir

For what felt like a recurring theme, you found yourself in a room you’d never seen. Your legs resting on someone’s hips as his body eclipsed yours in a bed that definitely wasn’t yours. No matter how foreign it seemed, this man, whose lips were coaxing you to open up to him, felt like home. He buried your body against the sheets and his touch became something your body shamefully craved. Except this man wasn’t the same one who’d haunted you for the past months. This man who moved above you like sin, whose lips and tongue formed against yours as if he’d mapped out your entire body with his tongue, wasn’t Jimin.

You knew who he was by the strength of his hold. The curve of his muscles that bowed under your fingertips. His head pulled up and away from your lips to leave love bites across your collarbone like a set of crimson pearls. This man, who had taken you in the most intimate way with his lips latched on your throat, was Jungkook.

Your mind couldn’t make sense of what was taking place. How you’d ended up in a mess of sheets. Your bodies beaded in sweat with your skin decorated in snake bites under your breasts, and hidden inside the inner curve of your thighs. The only thing you were sure of was the way you dived into him and let him drown you with each new crashing wave of his hips.

In between each crushing new weight of an orgasm, Jungkook sunk his teeth into a new spot. Your shoulder. Neck. The bend of your arm. Bites were strung across your back like a string of erotic galaxies that he’d mapped out in his continued efforts to explore everything you were willing to offer.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been in this bed. How long you’d been exposed to his overwhelming presence as his hands and mouth continued to roam the contours of your skin. Even his bites seemed to only escalate each new orgasm. Your body seemed to buckle and start all over at just a graze of his teeth along your skin. So eager it was to be penetrated a second time, much more animalistic, that it felt like a drug how badly you seemed to crave it. And every time your body was met with what it so badly craved it was only able to voice breathless moans that were silenced with a crimson soaked tongue.

You knew, ultimately, Jungkook was trying to devour you. To own every last inch of your soul and bend your body until all he needed to do was look at you, and you’d turn into a puddle at his feet. The thought should’ve been enough to push him away, but a twisted part of you was too turned on at the exhilaration of being owned. At the thought of him coming at any moment and his mouth easily claiming you as his.

You were barely starting to come down from your latest orgasm. You felt spent and raw, but Jungkook’s hips were still moving between your thighs as his arm moved to wrap underneath your arched back. A hand on the small of your back helping to prop you up higher, closer to his mouth so his tongue could reach out and flick across your hardened nipple.

The accompanying sensation of his tongue with the continuous movement of his cock pushing back inside you, riding out your orgasm to bring you to another, made your back arch harder. Your walls clenching tighter against him as your fingers dug into his hair with a hushed prayer for him to not stop escaping you. Pleading for him to do what you knew was coming next. Those soft flicks of his tongue that circled your nipple were only the beginning, and Jungkook did not disappoint.

He’d waited until your second orgasm came. Your body grew more sensitive with each continued stroke and, suddenly, his teeth penetrated down into the soft flesh of your breast. This time Jungkook was too occupied to keep down the moan that tore free from your chest. It moved inside the room like a living thing and bounced on every wall until it reverberated all around you.

Your arms had moved to wrap around his shoulders to bring him closer so he could drink you down faster. Your hands still locked tight to his hair as he moved to echo your movements with his arms moved to wrap around your waist. A hand dropped down to push away the bundled sheets at your hips to lift your back off the bed up and bring you to straddle him.

Your hips were now keeping up the speed Jungkook had created as he relaxed down on the bed. The hand he’d used to to push back the sheets between you had now moved to your ass. Using it to move you to the rhythm he was trying to commit with his own hips. You grinded down hard on him taking every last inch of him inside you. You tightened yourself around him to stroke and tease him with every new rise and fall of your hips and loved the way his grip tightened on your ass.

Jungkook lifted bloody lips from your breast. His own moan tearing free from him as you worked your hips over his cock. You watched him as his eyes fluttered closed and, with that stern playfulness off of his face, you were able to see just how beautiful he was. His head tilted back just enough that the light of the room showcased a mole under his lip, another decorated the side of his neck, and a scar on his cheek. An indent you were sure came from a time long ago when he was much more alive.

The sound of his moan spurred you to ride him faster. A part of you craved to bring another moan from him as his eyes opened back up and struggled to focus back on you. Jungkook knew what you were trying to do and a smirk quickly raised his lips.

“The only one who's going to be making any kind of noise here, Pet, is you.”

His nickname for you didn’t seem to register as a strong hand on your neck forced your lips crashing down into his. You opened up for him instantly and felt yourself tasting the copper of your blood back on his tongue and underneath that, was the sweet taste of your juices from when his mouth had been between your thighs lapping up every last bit of your first orgasm.

A moan gasped against his mouth as you tore away. The feeling of him so deep inside you was beginning to make your orgasm begin to build; threatening to spill as his hands took control of your hips and had you take him impossibly deeper. His fingertips were bruising against your flesh but you didn’t care. You needed more. You wanted to wear each marking he gave you, could give you, like decorations to your new favorite holiday.

You were so close to coming again. So close to another mind blowing release when you saw him.

Jimin.

His body perfectly formed into the chair with a leg carefully thrown over the other. A forearm resting on the chair's arm as his hand strategically placed itself over his mouth. You were sure it was to hide a frown that had set on his pouty lips. His eyes watching helplessly at the show you continued to give him.

The betrayal at being caught; being seen in such a position made you tear your lips away from Jungkook’s kiss. Your body, however, wasn’t ready to unlatch itself from him. Not when you were so, so close.

“Jimin?”

You knew Jungkook must have heard you. Was he unaware of the man sitting in the corner chair? Or was Jungkook putting on a show of how he’d taken your body so easily from him?

In part, you received your answer. In a blur of speed Jungkook placed you back on the mattress. His fingers hooking under the knee of one leg to hoist it up towards your stomach and placed your calf on his shoulder. It was such a small movement, but it somehow intensified his next thrust.

A moan that was more a scream crawled its way from your throat and out into the room. Your eyes fluttering shut on Jimin’s figure as you focused on the way this new position made you tighten around Jungkook’s cock. The width of him as he stretched and filled you up to the point your body began to shake. The only way you knew how to release the pleasure Jungkook rolled through you with every pounding of his hips was by shouting his name and marking him as your nails dug into his hips.

You were so close. So close and when you opened your eyes, Jimin was no longer sitting in the chair. No. He was now kneeling beside the bed, his face inches from yours and watching as your hips eagerly pushed off the bed to meet Jungkook’s.

It would be hard to deny that watching Jimin’s eyes take in the swell of your breasts, moving down the plains of your stomach, and ending, eyes hungrily watching Jungkook enter you, isn’t what made you cum. Because it was. Underneath that sadness he showed. The anger at seeing someone else touch you, was a lust at watching you cum under another man that made you feel like you’d left your body.

You came screaming and clawing feverishly at Jungkook’s back and arms. Your legs cramping through the strain of staying propped up to keep the power of his thrusts from breaking as you waited for it to end.

What you were really waiting for was the feel of Jungkook’s teeth setting into the soft flesh lol somewhere. Your body vibrating with the need to feel that soft pinch and the wave of euphoria that came right after, but none came.

You craved it so badly, you were practically writhing in disappointment underneath him when it never came. A whine left you pleading and the devilish smile on Jungkook’s lips didn’t surprise you. It only infuriated you more that he’d treat this like a game.

“Do you want me to bite you, Pet? Do you want me to taste you?”

Jungkook pulled away from you and began to move himself down towards your feet. He made sure to keep his body from touching you. The motion leaving a small view of his naked body exposed to the room and that alone was enough to make you keen into the room. Your lower half bucked up towards his face as he passed, but he easily dodged the motion.

Your eyes looked wildly up for Jimin. He was still there and the betrayal was coming back, but his earlier sadness was now replaced by understanding.

“What the hell is going on?”

You’d like to say that you sounded like yourself. That you weren’t still focused on the man now moving between your legs, inching your legs up to bend at the knee, and were more focused on getting some answers. Or the fact that you wanted Jimin to kiss you right when you felt Jungkook kiss at the crease of your inner thigh.

“You’re dreaming.”

Jimin stated it so matter-of-fact it hit your body like a smack to the face. It gave you enough clarity to look at him, really look at him, and then to the room around him.

“This has been a dream the whole time?”

This time your voice did sound more like yourself. Jimin moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. His eyes looking at you with an expression you didn’t deserve as he gently caressed his hand down the edge of your face.

“I’m guessing somehow you must have gotten a taste of Jungkook’s blood. A considerable amount it would seem.”

A soft smirk tilted the corner of his mouth as he looked down at your body and at the other man in question. You couldn’t help yourself. Your own gaze moved down to glance at Jungkook and found him, smiling, and looking dead at Jimin. A challenge in his eyes as his fangs began to grow past his lips and, instantly, the insane aching to be his toy knocked the air of sanity right from your lungs.

You knew you should reply but the only thing you found yourself doing was bucking your hips helplessly towards him. Your head falling back onto the mattress in frustration as you tried to grasp at some form of clarity.

“Why does this keep happening?”

Your words came out a panting, heaving, mess with your eyes shut tight. As if that would ever be enough to get your body back to normal and not be this lust crazed thing.

“I’m sorry. I should have protected you better. I should have been more cautious when I approached you. It was foolish of me to think Namjoon didn’t have his own plans in motion.”

You listened closely to Jimin’s words. Your mind scrambled to hold on to each one like a drowning man searching for a life jacket. You opened your eyes and found him smiling sadly down at you. His fingers moved through your hair, and tucked a piece behind your ear. That pain, that sadness, he tried to keep at bay was consuming even his smile now. All you wanted was to kiss his worries away. You knew he meant it. That all Jimin ultimately wanted was to keep you safe, always.

The thought alone was enough to bring you back. Your hand moved out to touch him. To grab a hold of his hand and bring it to your lips just so you could give it a gentle kiss.

“Namjoon probably asked Jungkook to give you blood. But I am sure that Namjoon doesn’t know he’s doing this.”

At the mention of his name, a growl came from the man in question and it took everything you had left in you not to look back down at him. Your eyes were trained solely on Jimin, and were determined to stay that way.

“Namjoon wouldn’t let him do this?”

Jimin shook her head as he spoke, “Namjoon would have asked him to watch over you. Heal you if you need it, but this-“ Jimin looked around the bedroom for added emphasis before bringing a disapproving gaze back to you. “This is more for Jungkook than anyone else.”

“I couldn’t help myself. She tastes so good.”

Jungkook’s voice touched along your skin like velvet. It worked its way like an invisible hand along your body, until it felt like it tightened around your throat demanding for your attention. You wanted to give it to him. To see that pretty face still waiting, teasingly, between your thighs with fangs exposed. You only gave him the satisfaction of letting him see you shiver.

“I still don’t understand how this is possible. How you can just enter my mind and create dreams like this.”

“I told you, Y/N. Blood is the conduit to the soul. Once it’s shared, it cannot be unshared. It helps us to see your desires and it leaves them exposed to us.”

“Are you trying to tell me I wanted this?”

You should’ve been past feeling embarrassed, especially in your current state, but with Jimin’s statement you felt exactly like he’d stated: exposed. The embarrassment in your chest hot as you fight the urge to cover up.

“In some way; yes. A part of you wants Jungkook and, because of the shared blood, he now knows it. And he capitalized on it to create this moment.”

Your mouth was open, ready to fight back at the idea you’d want any of them, but Jungkook was quick to silence you. Proving you to be nothing but a liar.

“You both talk too much.”

His teeth sunk down into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, and your back arched up off the bed. A moan violently erupted from you as your hands curled into the sheets and threatened to rip them apart. You were barely aware of your body when Jimin’s lips formed around yours and, before you were able to fully register his lips, his tongue danced across your bottom lip and you were quick to give him entrance just before you were thrown from your dream.

Your body lurched forward off of the mattress. The sheets crumbled at your waist as the haze of the dream kept your vision cloudy. You were struggling hard for your vision to clear and, in your haste, you only seemed to make it worse. Your world was swimming in dizziness as objects seemed either too close to you or too far; lurching forward and back until they stopped in their original spots.

It wasn’t until you were able to fully calm yourself that you were aware of the bodies in the room. The first you noticed was the one you weren’t exactly able to see, but you could feel them. Your skin came alive with goosebumps as fear rolled through you. It took everything you had not to turn around; to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest. But you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around even if your life depended on it, because that second body, the one you knew was there, was right in front of you.

With his hips cocked against the large dresser and his arms resting behind him he was the picture perfect image of seduction. The devilish smile on his lips was a tell-tale sign as his gaze drank in your position in the bed that he knew what you were thinking. But how could he not? Even then, with him fully clothed, your mind was able to recall the bunch of muscles in his chest that combined into his stomach. The way your hands dipped inside the plains of his back as his hips worked himself deeper inside you making you come undone beneath him. No. You knew his body the way that he no doubt knew yours.

“Jungkook?”

His name fell from your lips in a whisper. One that was either a curse or excitement or possibly both. You weren’t entirely sure. What you were sure of was the itch in your palms to rub them against your eyes. To see if he was still there, like a bad dream caught on a loop. Thinking of him like that felt wrong, somehow and that’s when you knew you were in trouble.

You watched as he ran a thumb along his bottom lip. The knowing in his eyes as they moved across your body like a touch sent you shivering in response against the covers. If your mind and body were aware of the dream then so was he. The dream that felt real. A touch your body now longed to feel with him this close. To be used up and your skin decorated with his mouth and teeth like a scandalous map of where he’d conquered.

Your eyes were so heavily trained on him; sinfully watching every drawn out movement he made that you could hardly pay attention to anything else. How you could’ve missed the other body next the bed was something you couldn’t fathom. Of course you would’ve known that the vampire V, was right beside you. But you were so shamelessly engrossed in the show Jungkook happily provided, that you weren’t aware of him until his fingers were stroking through your hair.

Your body gave a violent jolt as it turned to face him. An odd child-like mischief swept across his face like a wildfire. Setting off sparks in his eyes that roared to life as his gaze hungrily drank you in and, without speaking, knew you were in trouble.

His hand reached out to touch you again, and you found yourself struggling against the bundled sheets at your waist to back away. You cursed under your breath. The harder you seemed to struggle the more your legs became hopelessly tangled further in the sheets.

V was wasting no time as he moved to join you on the large bed. The muscles in his arms and back strained against the thin silk fabric of his shirt. His body movements gracefully calculated with each inch he covered as he made his way towards you. His hands moved seamlessly over the sheets without getting caught up in them. Unlike you, who only seemed to tangle yourself further the more you struggled against them. No, the way he moved and how he looked at you made it painfully obvious that he was the predator here. And you? You were nothing more than prey.

You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to tell that your heart was clamoring to escape your chest. The terror you felt was very much real. Not a figment of your imagination or a feeling in your subconscious left over from a dream. The more you seemed to struggle against the knowledge that if V got a hold of you, you’d be his breakfast, lunch, and dinner, the more your panic made your movements frantic. And in their frenzy it made you increasingly clumsy.

You were almost to the edge of the bed. The anxiety that had begun to blossom left a sickening thought in your mind that you weren’t going to make it. When you quickly glanced behind you it all but dissipated. You’d somehow made it. You were just a few inches to freedom. You were going to make this! And suddenly, V’s hand appeared like magic on your arm. It snuffed out what hope you’d felt. His fingers tightened against the skin of your forearm and, without giving you a second to recover, began to pull you towards him.

The scream that’d been building in your chest finally tore free when he tugged you towards him. Your hand clamored uselessly at his fingers in a weak attempt to make them release his hold, and when that wasn’t working, you swung your feet around. You were ready to strike; to kick out at him in panic induced spurts when V suddenly let you go. A more level headed you would’ve considered why he’d done it. But you weren’t levelheaded. You weren’t fucking calm. You were stuck in flight mode, instead of fighting, and with your brain stuck on autopilot you could only consider one thing: running.

Those eyes that swore they would tear you apart were no longer looking at you, but were focused on someone behind you. Instead of being careful and glancing to see what it was - who it was - you scrambled back and ended up colliding into someone else’s chest.

You didn’t need to look to know who it was. You’d experienced this chest for what felt like an eternity in your dreams. Your tongue traced sinful outlines across his chest like a paintbrush and committed every single stroke to memory. No, you didn’t need to look to know Jungkook was at the end of this bed. And yet…

Your head tilted back until the top of it rested comfortably in his stomach. Your eyes gazed up to find he was already looking at you. That infamous smirk dancing on his lips as his eyes took you in. You couldn’t help but wonder what he saw. Did you look frightened? Or did he see blown out pupils exposing your desire for him. Did your body give you away when your next breath came out ragged with need or was it like that from fear? Were your eyes already swimming with desire for him to touch you, for real this time?

He brought a hand to the side of your neck and it took what little willpower you had left to keep from nuzzling your cheek into him. If Jungkook knew this he wouldn't have shown it. Instead, he continued to draw his index finger across your jawline until it came up to connect with your lips. The soft smile that he’d worn now turned into something dangerous. His eyes bleeding the deep crimson that signified his teeth weren’t far behind and there, exactly when that knowledge hit you, is when your lust burst into overdrive.

You were shot back to hazy memories of your bodies intertwined in sheets just like the ones on this bed. His mouth, teeth, all over your body. His hands positioned on your hips to keep you trapped. Just so he could keep you close and feel every new thrust as he tore fresh pleasure from your lips.

The flashback of your dream only seemed to escalate your hunger for him. The images played out fresh in your mind until you knew if either of them placed a hand between your thighs, it would come away soaked and slick with your desire. The overwhelming need for him to touch you felt like a current of fire along your skin. It screamed and ached for him to come and soothe you.

You felt V’s hands back on your body. Their roughness gone now replaced to tease up your calves until his fingers were edging wickedly up your thighs. Past the fabric of your skirt and closer to your core. Each touch left a trial of goosebumps along your skin that were only spreading with each touch between him and Jungkook. You dared for a moment to take your eyes off of Jungkook. Just enough to be able to see that V’s own eyes were now matching the man above you. A wicked smirk showcasing pointed canines that he used to nip at the top of your knee.

“Oh, Jungkook, she must really like you.”

“Fuck you,” you snapped.

You wanted to sound defiant. You wanted your voice to shake the room with it. Instead, it sounded weak and wanton and only caused V to flash his fangs and a chuckle to ripple through Jungkook.

“If that’s what you would prefer, Witch. We would be more than happy to oblige.”

V’s eyes swam with heat as his voice teased along your skin. The sane part of you, or what was left of it, was screaming at you to remove yourself from the bed. That letting your legs inch wider for V to trail his hands closer to your core was wrong. That you shouldn’t be Focusing on Jungkook’s hands that were trailing inside your shirt until it cupped a breast. And you most definitely should not be moaning in approval as his other free hand laced itself inside your hair and pulled back, hard, for you to look up at him. But your body was full of sensations - full of a deep seeded need - and only Jungkook promised to deliver.

Jungkook’s hand began to massage your breast as simultaneously the hand in your hair pulled tighter. The motion exposing your neck fully to the room. Your scalp was flaring to life in pain, but Jungkook’s deft fingers teased across your nipple causing your pain and pleasure to blur. Your body responded in earnest. Your hips shamelessly began to gyrate into the sheets, into V’s wandering hands, as Jungkook’s pulled tighter. You knew he was trying to break a moan from your lips and you refused to give him the satisfaction. But your eyes were still helplessly glued to him. Eagerly scanning his face for when he would expose his canines and when he finally did, lips torn back in all their wickedness, the gasp he’d been waiting for finally escaped free.

Your arousal was instant and shameless. Your back already arching to give him a better view of any area he wanted while your hips moved against V’s touch. Another moan was building - hot and molten - on your lips. Just as you opened up to release it, Jungkook bent down to crash his mouth down on yours.

The kiss silenced you until you felt V’s fingers at the tops of your thighs. His earlier teasing completely gone as they edged inside your panties, making your body shiver against Jungkook and a moan sound deep against his lips.

“Jungkook. She’s soaked.”

V groaned the words into the room. His own desire makes you shiver as his lips, his teeth, kissed hungrily on the inside of your thigh. Your body gave a jolt at the contact. Another moan crushing down on you as your tongue moved to stroke against Jungkook’s.

In the middle of the kiss, your tongue accidentally nicked a canine. The pain was instantaneous and sharp with the taste of blood quickly swimming between you and the softness that Jungkook had shown when his lips had originally taken yours was gone. In a blur of movement, his hand in your hair pulled back brutally hard, tearing a scream from your throat. Jungkook responded with a growl vibrating along your lips, as he started to try and eat you from the mouth down. Scream and all.

You were so enraptured in the moment you were willing to give in. To let them both have you because, honestly, what was the worst that could happen? The answer: a lot. The struggle to come back to yourself and to not be consumed by them was like trying to swim out of quicksand. It felt impossible. It was impossible. Until your mind flashed with the image of Jimin.

The way he sat in the corner chair of the room. The way he’d watched Jungkook, and you, move in a tangle of sheets. How he’d watched you allow Jungkook to mark you over and over in every intimate spot he could taste. To own your body and almost your mind. There had been hunger in his eyes as he watched, but there was no denying the sadness that lurked below the surface. That image of Jimin sitting so stoically in the chair, fingers on his lips, and chin resting in his palm was what you needed.

Immediately, you lurched forward. Your body flying sideways off the bed and rolling until you fell, not so gracefully, onto the floor below. There was no doubt in your mind that the two vampires in the room had let you. You knew that if they wanted to keep you there, there you’d have stayed. Held hostage by their embrace and hunger.

You were clamoring off of the floor and facing them. Your hands moved around you to try and make sure your skirt was back in place and you looked as modest as you could. It was somewhere in your hurried attempt to make sure your clothes were intact that you realized the cut on your leg that Namjoon had given you from the window was gone. The area was perfectly healed with not a mark to show the trauma that had broken the skin hours before.

“I was ordered to give you blood by Namjoon.” Jungkook’s voice ripped your attention away from examining your leg. Commanding all of your focus to him. “You’d lost quite a bit of blood and he was…worried.”

“And did he ask you to -'' you couldn’t bring yourself to speak out loud what had gone on in your head.

Jungkook didn’t share the same sentiment. On the contrary, that wickedness spread across his face showcasing the ends of his fangs. His arm was now wrapped around one of the posts on the four post bed. His body swung around the corner of the bed in a way that oddly mimicked a child.

“To fuck you, taste you, and leave you begging for me to continue? Oh no, he didn’t ask me to do any of that. That was all my choice, Pet.”

Your cheeks flush from his words and you struggled not to turn away from him. But wasn’t it all supposed to just be a dream? It couldn’t be real. Could it? Out of your peripheral’s you noticed V was moving himself off the bed. His body exiting the bed as seductively as he’d entered it. His own teasing smile drowned out the hunger that was still spread across the heat in his eyes.

“And here I thought witches only rode broomsticks.”

“They ride more than that,” Jungkook quipped.

The two of them equally seemed to enjoy your growing embarrassment, and you hated the fact your body was white hot with it. They were already honing in on your position. One coming from your left and the other the right. That reckless part of you was curious what would happen if they got to you, but another part reminded you this wasn’t a game. You wouldn’t respawn and the price of losing was your life or freedom.

So you found your feet edging you closer and closer to the corner of the room. You were fully aware that it was a dead end and knew that if Jungkook and V wanted to, they would’ve already taken you. The thrill of the hunt was what they were after. You, unfortunately, just happened to be the prey.

They were only a few feet from you when the door to the room suddenly opened and Alice stepped in. Or at least it looked like Alice. This woman didn’t resemble the girl you shared classes or an apartment with. She looked ethereal. Her corn yellow hair in soft waves with a braid for a crown and her dress delicately embroidered in a design you saw more in the 1920’s. For all the memories of friendship you held, the beauty she showed, the only thing your heart felt looking at her was contempt.

Jungkook and V turned to see who entered and both seemed unimpressed with their new visitor. Alice shared in their open distaste for one another. She finished coming through the doorway and walked to the bed placing what you assumed were clothes for you to change into.

“What exactly do you think the two of you are doing?” Alice’s voice was scolding. Her distaste only seemed to rise as she took in a scent of the air. “Someone has been Dream Touched in here. Recently. Jungkook, I’m pretty sure Namjoon told you watch over her not fuck her.”

There it was again. It was just a dream! Why did they talk like it actually happened? The blush that was beginning to leave your cheeks came flaring back. It took everything in you not to look down at the floor in shame.

“What can I say? I got bored waiting for her to wake up.”

“If Namjoon finds out you touched her-“

“Who is going to tell him, hmm?” In a blur of speed Jungkook had Alice pressed up against the wall. His hand wrapped around her neck as her feet dangled at his legs. “Are you going to tell him? You think being a snitch is going to put you back in his good graces? In his bed? He’s already discarded you like the trash you are. So don’t forget how easily you could be replaced.”

If looks could kill the two of them would’ve exploded. The hatred that came off the pair felt like it could suffocate with every inch of air being sucked from the room. Your blood was now coursing with adrenaline as you watched their exchange. If you needed any reminding that they could kill you without you even blinking, this was all you needed.

Alice lifted up a weak hand and you noticed the blue flame inside her palm, her lips moving wordlessly, and pure rage in her eyes. She went to swing her hand down at him and Jungkook easily caught it with his remaining free hand. Easily pinning her wrist against the wall next to her head and smoke now coming rising where the flame once was.

V walked over casually, his hands deep in his pockets before he dug a hand out. He grabbed Jungkook by his shoulder and gently tugged as if to pull him away.

“Come on, Jungkook. She’ll have her day, but it's not now. We don’t need any more trouble.”

You watched Jungkook reluctantly let her go. The way he stepped away from her in disgust. His hands wiping down his clothes as if just being around her was enough to stain them entirely. He didn’t spare a passing look her way as he moved with V to exit the room. V’s exit came without giving a passing look, but Jungkook, somehow you knew, before he turned and waved at you, that he couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. The hatred in his eyes quickly dissolved back to his earlier hunger as he told you a promise: “See you later, Pet,” and closed the door behind him.

You were now left alone in the room with your ex-best friend who was still trying to regain her composure in a heap on the floor. You felt bad. You couldn’t deny that. The ethereal beauty she’d come in with - a princess out of a fairytale - had completely dissolved. Now, she looked angry with a smidgen of terror. Her tear stained cheeks were rubbed red from her hands as she slowly started to stand.

At first, she wasn’t acknowledging you at all. When she moved to stand up, however, and smoothed out the front of her dress she gave you her full attention. That hatred Alice shared, that contempt, that’d come alive in her eyes at the sight of Jungkook and V in the room, was now placed heavily on you.

“What are you looking at,” she spat. “You need to hurry up and get dressed. Namjoon has been waiting long enough for you to wake up.”

You glanced at the pile of clothes that had been left on the bed and back at Alice. None of her attention was on you. She was too busy running her hands furiously down the front of her dress. You weren’t sure if it was embarrassment that kept her head turned away from you or if she just wanted to pretend like you weren’t there. If it was the latter, you were more than happy to do the same.

You moved to look at what she’d brought for you to change into, and your nose crinkled up in disgust. It wasn’t as fancy as what Alice was wearing, but it was a dress, and nothing you wanted any part in. How the hell were you supposed to try to escape in something like this? The fabric of the dress was soft to the touch and you knew once you put it on it would feel good against your skin. The way expensive and fancy things usually did. It appeared floor length, its color a deep garnet, and the complete opposite of the pure white of Alice’s.

It felt comical that Alice deemed herself worthy to be the one to wear white.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you chided.

Your hands grabbed at the dress's top and lifted it up. It was pretty. Very pretty, but a dress? Really? Alice stopped her pacing and turned her attention back to you. The annoyance creased her brows so harshly she resembled a basset hound.

“Just put the damn thing on, Y/N. Namjoon wants you to wear it so - end of discussion.”

“And does everyone always do what Namjoon wants them to do?”

Her eyes narrowed on you and you could’ve sworn it felt like insects were crawling on your skin. It took every last bit of self-control you had not to start tapping wildly at your skin.

“Let me help you understand something sooner rather than later, Y/N.You are in the King’s sanctuary. Whatever Namjoon wants, he gets and right now you happen to be a very high priority on his list.”

“If I could be unprioritized on his list that would be great,” you quipped.

Your humor seemed to make Alice’s irritation rise as she walked slowly towards the bed. Her eyes roamed over the sheets you’d just struggled out of seconds before she’d walked in. A part of you as secretly glad she hadn’t walked in during that particular time.

“Namjoon is - will be - your King. He wants to bring the coven, the oldest there is, back together. For centuries, our coven lived among the vampires. A deal struck between our Headmistress and King of the vampires. A deal that offered limitless power for the coven. It remained this way until the day your great-great grandmother and Jimin tried to change it.”

“My great-great grandmother and Jimin?”

Alice gave a quick nod as her arm wrapped around the post of the bed and leaned into it. Her eyes remained roaming the bed instead of giving you any of her attention as she spoke. You were okay with it. Your own attention fastened to every word. Each one painting a picture of information that you were eager to hear. Maybe in all of this nonsense you could find something that did make sense and use it to save yourself.

“If you don’t do as he says, if you don’t try to learn what I have to teach you, Namjoon won’t let you go, Y/N. He’ll kill you.”

She looked at you then and a large part of you wished Alice had kept her eyes on the bed. She wasn’t trying to spook you or send you screaming for the hills. They’d all done enough before now to do that already. Alice was making sure that you understood. You either submit or you died. In this reality, where you currently lived, and Namjoon reigned supreme, you didn’t have a second or third option.

In all of this, it wasn’t hard to notice the admiration that dripped in her voice at the mention of his name. The way her body sighed at the thought of him. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that she was in love with Namjoon. Hopelessly, in fact. The thought of you being anywhere near him is what she probably hated and even more knowing that ever since he’d found you, he’d discarded her just like Jungkook mentioned. It no doubt stung. It no doubt made her hate you, but Alice would never tell you, but what she did tell you was true. Whatever Namjoon couldn’t own he would destroy and, unfortunately for you, you were currently on the receiving end of being his latest thing to own.

You weren’t sure what to say. If being in denial was even worth trying to mask the cold lump of dread that was forming in your chest. What were you supposed to do now? You couldn’t wait around for Jimin to save you this time, but how were you supposed to begin to help yourself? While you waited for the universe to bring a solid plan to you, you began to undress.

You didn’t mind getting rid of the clothes from the day before. It had given you a false sense of security. As if leaving them haphazardly on the floor around you was enough to save you from your current reality. It wasn’t until you were stepping into the dress Alice brought that you were reminded that this was all too real.

You struggled to close the back of the gown and hated that with every passing second you knew you were going to have to ask her for help. Clearing your throat, you glanced in her direction. You found Alice sitting on the bed. Her hands draped loosely in her lap with her gaze in a land - somewhere far far away. Her thoughts took her somewhere that wasn’t you or this room. The sound of your voice finally uprooting her gaze to land on you.

“Could you - do you - do you think you could help me with this?”

You half expected her to break out into a lopsided grin. To start teasing you about your lack of coordination or make one of the worst jokes you’d ever heard as she moved towards you. Alice, the Alice you remembered, loved dad jokes. They were her terribly timed thing. But the Alice you knew was gone, and replaced with one you didn’t want to know. Was this really who she was, and not who she pretended to be?

She didn’t answer you right away. Well, she didn’t really answer you at all. The only way you knew that she’d agreed was when she calmly moved towards you. Her expression remained blank, but her eyes were searching for something and acted as if you held the map to every explanation she needed.

You brushed your hair to the side so she could get a clear view of the last couple hitches that need to be fastened. You turned your back to her and waited to feel her hands closing what was left. While the dress was floor length and beautiful, it sure was leaving a large part of your chest exposed. A tsk of displeasure escaped your lips.

“What was the price the coven paid?”

You weren’t sure why you felt brave enough to ask Alice so close. If you thought it would be enough to get her to answer you at all. Your short burst question faded to the background of her continued silence.

“The price we paid?”

When her words cut through it practically had you jumping on the spot. Your tongue quickly darted between your lips to wet them before you replied, “For the power upgrade. Everything comes at a cost when it comes to magic, no?”

You swore it felt like she was smiling behind you. Or maybe you just needed to imagine she was smiling with softness like your imaginary friend used to.

“Namjoon offered us blood. His blood, and the blood of his people. In exchange, the coven bowed under his rule with the promise of serving him for all eternity.”

“That seems like a mighty steep price to pay.”

“And one we will continue to pay until the debt is paid in full. Your great-great-great grandmother believed she could fight this pact. She believed she was above the coven, and it’s order.”

“It sounds to me like she was the only one with her head on straight” you mentioned.

With the last clasp finished on the dress you took a step away from Alice. Your feet guided you in a wide circle until you stood to face her, shoulders squared, and eyes narrowed in challenge.

“She fled believing she could save her future generations from their duty to our king, but there is no hiding from your destiny. Elyssa should’ve remembered that.”

You hadn’t heard her name in years. Your own mother hardly ever spoke of your grandmother or your great grandmother. Avoided them at all costs like a plague that could cause an infection from just the slightest mention. You grew up normal enough. You’d had your small family. Never any grandparents or aunts or uncles. You were too young to question it, but your parents made you feel like you weren’t missing anything. There were family vacations and Saturday’s mapped out with storybook adventures in the woods. You never imagined you were lacking anything until the day your father mysteriously disappeared after going to work one day. After he left, mom was never the same.

You never cared to dwell on sad facts. Maybe he’d just run away. Maybe his heart had found a family capable of building the life he’d wanted instead of the quiet one your mother desired in her handmade cottage in the woods. Now, staring back at Alice, you couldn’t help but wonder about something much darker.

“Let me give you some friendly advice.” You weren’t sure why her voice caused you to jump. “When a vampire shares his blood with you and you share yours with him, they form a connection with the soul of that person. It’s what makes us more vulnerable to being Dream Touched. The sex is phenomenal, but the bite is the real kicker. It’s easy for them to turn you into a junkie for it.”

Your head was still spinning out memories of a childhood you’d mostly tried to keep hidden. Her words echoed in the hollow chamber in your mind where you were only able to catch a few of them. Confusion edged your brow closer together as you tried shaking out bad memories to focus on the current one being made.

“Why are you telling me all this? I’ve never had sex with any of them.”

Looking at her you were able to see she wasn’t telling you this out of the kindness of her heart. The emptiness of her face had been replaced by what you could only assume was hatred.

“Because when you’re Dream Touched it forms an unmistakable connection with the vampire who gave it to you. It’s why you most likely still feel Jimin, even if it's dull. And what you think is a ‘dream’ is very much real. Dream Touched encounters are the real thing. The feelings. The tastes. The bites. You reek of Jungkook. Namjoon will know and it will be my ass for picking Jungkook to be the one to watch you. Now come on, we need to go. He’s waiting.”

You were still trying to process what she was telling you, but Alice wasn’t interested in giving you time to digest her words. All the time she had in coming to the room had apparently evaporated. The only thing left was the sense of urgency her pace created. Her long legs were already at the door and swinging it open.

While you weren’t a hundred percent sure about following her anywhere, an open door piqued your interest. Wherever they were holding you it was obviously a home of some kind and every home and two things: doors and windows. The thought of escaping before this shit show went from bad to astronomically worse sent your heart racing. A melding of fear and excitement swirled in your chest that maybe, just maybe, you could get out of this and save yourself.

All the best laid plans were made on the fly, anyway.

With a breath of indecision heavy in your chest you took your first step towards the door. What you found waiting for you on the other side wasn’t what you’d envisioned. You’d imagined that wherever Namjoon kept you it’d be somewhere desolate. A run-down mansion. Maybe an abandoned factory to add up the spook factor. If the bedroom you’d exited was any indication, Namjoon’s home was far from run-down or factory-esque.

The hallway you found yourself in carried with the same deep wood that had been in the bedroom. The wood was polished white and went the entirety of the hallway. The intricate inlays of gold designs on the wood and crown molding only seemed to add to the opulence of the house. You were sure if a home designer from HGTV found their way in here, they’d probably explode with their love for everything they saw. You did notice the windows the heavy curtains covered and, from the view you were getting, your brain deduced trying to escape through one of them this high would be a bad idea.

Without waiting for you further, Alice began to make her way down the hallway. She didn’t seem worried that you would try to run or that you wouldn’t follow. Alice appeared confident that you would just follow behind her without giving her any problems. Sure, the windows were a definite no-go, but the doors?? There seemed to be plenty of them that you could see. What made her so certain you wouldn’t try and escape through any? It didn’t matter if you didn’t know where they would lead. Anywhere would be better than where Alice was no doubt leading you. So why didn’t you run?

Realistically, you didn’t know what was more terrifying. The unknown of what could possibly be behind those doors or Namjoon waiting for you somewhere in the house.

Alice made a right at the end of the hall and ended your inner monologue of indecision. She was no longer sending backwards glances to make sure you were there. Her confidence at your submission was a heavy annoyance in your chest and the questions that still weighed there demanded that you return the favor.

“If you have more you want to ask, Y/N, just ask it. I know you want to.”

You wanted to be childish and tell her you didn’t want to ask her shit. In the end, the lie didn’t seem worth the trouble and getting a little more information wouldn’t seem to hurt.

“Alright. Where are we?”

“Really?” she snorted. “Out of everything you could ask, that's what you came up with?”

“You said I could ask anything. It’s reasonable to ask where your kidnappers have taken you. If I’m still in Seoul or if you’ve moved me miles from the city to somewhere else.”

The silence after your words departed your lips crushed in around you. As if every ounce of air had been taken from your lungs. Were you holding your breath without realizing it? You continued to walk behind Alice not knowing when she would answer or even if she would. She said you could ask questions, but hadn’t specified if she would reply.

“We are in the original home of the Coven. The home that was made between our headmistress and Namjoon to house us centuries ago.”

“You keep saying ‘we’, like I’m somehow part of a secret club.”

“We are a coven - not a club.”

“There’s that word, 'we’ again.”

You expected Alice to turn on you at any second. Your patronizing was obviously beginning to get to her by the tightness that formed in her shoulders with every smart remark you shot back in response. You expected her next words to be biting, and ready to scratch their annoyance across your skin. The both of you came to stand before a pair of ornate double doors. The wood had been intricately carved to show a woman surrounded by cherubs and flowers surrounding them. It was a beautiful crafted work of art and one that screamed it wasn’t made this century.

Her hand was poised on its handle, waiting to turn it to expose what lay ahead, and her attention was fully on you. An upturned smile of amusement did little to keep the icy glare off her face. That same coldness ready to send a cruel joke your way, and you were the butt of it.

“I say, ‘we,’ because you are part of the coven. Your great-great-great grandmother, along with the headmistress, founded our pact with The Blood King. He offered us the chance of gaining our own power. Our own immortality.”

“All power comes with a cost.”

Even without knowing diddly squat about magic this much you knew to be true. Your mind remembering in a nightmarish haze the sickly voices that pierced inside your head. Each one promises to give you the power to hurt Alice, and those who wished to do you harm. All they demanded was blood. A life in return for a life. You did not want to be a slave to darkness nor did you want to be a slave of any immortal man.

Alice confirmed your earlier statement with a nod of her head. Her hand finally pushed open the door to expose the landing of a grand double-sided staircase. The room below was as embellished as the halls you’d just walked and the great doors you came through. It screamed old world money. A home that was as timeless as the inhabitants that currently resided inside its walls. Before you moved to stand near the railing you noticed that this floor held another set of long hallways on either side. The doors beyond them created a labyrinth of rooms that hummed with a promise of getting lost if you chose to run.

“Yes it does. The coven knew this and we accepted that cost. The blood of vampires was everything that we had hoped it would be, and more. Their blood heightened our natural abilities. It connected us deeper to the earth and the death underneath. We were able to control living and dead creatures - to speak love into existence and ruin it. We controlled elements and contorted the bodies of Namjoon’s enemies into pretty bows of flesh. We stay in this house to share in giving blood, as well as taking.”

“This sounds like every single one of you pledged your soul to the devil.”

Her words still fresh in your ear you followed her to stand at the edge of the banister. What you saw waiting for you on the ballroom size floor below caused your hands to latch against the wood. Your fingers dug in tight and tighter as you struggled to get your racing heart under control. Panicking now wouldn’t save you. Would anything?

“We are all willing to sell our soul in exchange for something, Y/N. I’m sure you’d sell your soul for your freedom again and, because of that, we choose our own devil to serve.”

The devil Alice meant in particular was seated alone on a long plum velvet couch. His long arms draped coolly across the top and his lean frame draped in a silken shirt that ran like water along his skin. His long legs in black slacks and dress shoes that ticked in time with the impatience the rest of his body didn’t seem to show. Everything about him screamed of power and sex. A dangerous energy and the eyes of this devil were solely on you.

In one last weak attempt, you turned to your ex-best friend and prayed that she could see the terror that raged inside your veins. That pried your eyes wide with fright and left a desert inside your mouth as you struggled to swallow.

“Please, Alice. I don’t belong here. I’m just me. Plan old Y/N, Y/L/N who has midterms, finals, and an apartment I shared with my best friend. Whoever you’re looking for, it's not me.”

But Alice remained unforgivingly brutal. Your words might as well have been said to the wall behind you, with as much emotion as she showed.

“You are here, Y/N, because the blood that flows in your veins belongs here. Your entire life is meant to serve our King the way you great-great-great grandmother did. To speak a curse like a prayer into homes and bend the air in someone’s lungs until not an ounce is left. I’ve been tasked to show you how to do as she did, because Namjoon demanded it. He wants the old ways back, and it is my duty, your duty, to do as he commands.”

She stated each word like it was gospel. Her voice never wavering in its calm determination like it all made absolute sense to her. Maybe it did. Alice believed her life was meant to submit. As for you, you had a hard time submitting to the rules of showing up on time for class so...good luck with that. You realized then no amount of screaming, panicking, or attempt to run would save you. No childish acts of stomping your feet and demanding your one phone call like a prisoner would garner you anything but pain. What Namjoon wanted - he got. What he wanted was plain for all to see as he watched you begin your descent down the staircase.

It felt like it had taken forever for your fingers to pry off the warmth of the wood. For you to be able to feel your feet again just to get them to move you forward. The room was scattered with what you could only assume were other vampires. Their eyes roamed over Alice and you with curiosity, and others with hunger. You realized if Namjoon gave the word, you could be torn to pieces so they could feed. Alice too. The fear that came after that thought was bitter, and the acidic taste of bile in the back of your throat threatened to coat the stairs. You were struggling too hard to control the rush of blood in your ears.

You needed an anchor. A thought. An object. Anything to keep your mind from racing to a thousand and one ways your life couldn’t suck any harder than this moment. Your eyes finally landed on an all too familiar face.

Jungkook stood off to Namjoon’s left. His arms casually at his sides and the curtain of loose waves covered his eyes. Through that curtain of hair you could barely make out that his attention was focused on your every step. When those same eyes roamed the expanse of your body, taking in its new outfit that adorned it, you swore you could feel each flick like a soft brush against your skin. As if his fingers were reaching out to melt into your skin and caress it into submission at his touch.

The fear that held you prisoner since you’d woken up here was replaced by the insatiable sensation to touch him. To be touched by him. The craving felt demanding and it forced you to concentrate hard on not sprinting to his side. Jungkook must have felt it too, because when he looked back into your eyes, that unapologetic smirk was on his face. Eagerly waiting for you to lose your self-control and come running to his arms.

Alice’s abrupt hand cautioning you to stop jerked your eyes away from him and back to the present. With your eyes diverted from Jungkook, you were free to notice you were standing inches away from Namjoon. You’d been so focused on Jungkook you hadn’t realized Alice herded you before him. You hated yourself for not paying attention when it mattered. Looking at Namjoon now, as his arms drew back to his body, his feet moving to push him off the couch, made you wish you could have a do over.

The previous times that you’d seen Namjoon the dim-light from your apartment’s kitchen or the streetlights had cascaded around his features. It’d projected his face in part shadow never allowing it to be fully seen. Now, with him only a few feet from you, and the room perfectly lit, you were able to see how strikingly handsome he was.

The crescent of his eyes reminded you of a predator. Their calculating gaze took in more than just whatever he saw in front of him; saw past what you were desperately trying to hide. He was all high cheekbones and lips that were pink and pouty like he’d been feverishly kissed. And god, was he always this tall?

You couldn’t stop yourself from swallowing the rising dread in your chest as he stood before you. Namjoon moved towards you with the narcissistic grace of a king and the power of something more deadly. That power radiated along your skin with a sickening promise to consume you. Everything you could give he would take even the things you weren’t willing to part with. Namjoon’s power was demanding. Forceful. It was everything to be feared.

It took every last ounce of strength you had not to backpedal away from him. Or to listen to the small voice of fear that’d begun to rage a war inside your chest bringing your panic back to life. The voice, no matter how small, told you it was now or never. As if your chance of running and surviving in a room full of vampires was greater than one percent. Somehow, you found the courage to stifle the blind panic and stand before him without budging, but all bets were off when his face clouded over in rage.

You heard a stifled scream and realized it was you. Your feet no longer held their ground as you went to take that step back from him, but Namjoon was just there. A controlling hand on the back of your neck, his jaw clenched tight, and pulling you to him forcing a plea of, “Please don’t,” to fall from your lips before you could stop it.

Namjoon’s eyes had already bled to crimson and were darting wildly in anger around your face. As if he could see some unseen string that would lead him to whatever unspoken transgression had occurred. Your hands were pushing at his chest trying desperately to put space between you, but it only made him pull you tighter to him.

When his neck bent down to bring his nose across your cheek you hated the squeak of terror your body made. He took in a long scent from your neck with his nose trailing up until he was back to your cheek. His blackened pupils dilating as recognition replaced the question of who, or what, had caused his earlier confusion.

“I’m not a candle. Quit sniffing me so hard.”

Palm. Face. What in the actual hell were you thinking?

His eyes floated down to give you his full attention and you realized you didn’t want it. You seriously didn’t want it. Luckily for you, Namjoon seemed to have something bigger to take care of. With his hand securely around your neck he used it to pull you with him. All the unforgiveness of his rage finally turned to direct itself behind him to none other than Jungkook.

Jungkook had balls. Big balls. Instead of cowering at the power that was emanating from his King, Jungkook replied simply by wearing a smirk. His eyes were full of challenge as it finally dawned on you that what Namjoon had smelt on your skin was Jungkook.

“She reeks of being dream touched and I know damn well this time it wasn’t Jimin! You just couldn’t help yourself, could you.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Namjoon knew as much as the two of you did that while he’d been patiently waiting for you to wake up, Jungkook had been fucking you into satin blue sheets and marking every part of your body for his own. Now, Namjoon probably didn’t know how extensive all of it was. You, however, did know and at the thought every single person in that room knew what happened between the two of you sent an embarrassment so hot through your body you were sure you matched Namjoon’s eyes.

Jungkook was somehow able to stay smug. His shrug came off unbothered, reckless, and god you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. Even now with a part of you hating him and wishing you could cuss him out for turning you into this wanton thing - you still wanted him.

Namjoon must have realized it too or maybe it was the way you were currently making googly eyes in Jungkook’s direction. Like the sun shined out of his ass. Whatever it was, it only made his eyes blaze brighter with hatred. Namjoon looked over your face one last time before looking back at the other man. With his eyes trained on Jungkook’s face he made sure he watched as Namjoon brought his right hand into view. You watched as Namjoon’s thumb nail began to extend out - forming into a sharp stiletto. While you watched this it finally brought you back to your senses. Back to the reality that he held you pressed tightly against his chest.

The hold on your neck he’d used to control you in place was now forcing you to arch back until your chest was exposed to the room. The mounds of your breasts peaked out from the top of the dresses fabric and it was there that Namjoon’s nail found a home in its soft skin. When Namjoon drew it down across the skin you sucked in a sharp hiss of air. The burning sensation of blood meeting the air being more of a nuisance than actual pain.

“Forgive me,” he spoke. The baritone of his voice caressed across your skin and cascaded in a shiver down your spine. “Jungkook is still young. He is quick to make bold decisions while forgetting whom it is he serves and who it is you belong to.”

You were ready to spit out you belonged to no one. The burning of your cut quick to remind you how much shit you were in. Before you could even open your mouth to send an insult, his eyes dropped down to meet yours. His hand on your neck flexing as those same eyes roamed the expanse of your neck until he came to the open wound he’d created.

In a blur of speed he whipped you around to make sure Jungkook had a clear view before an ungodly scream left from between Namjoon’s full lips. Your own rose up to match him as your arms lashed out in one final attempt to push him back. Namjoon knocked your arms back down before crushing you further to his chest and, with his eyes turned up to Jungkook, sank his teeth into your breast.

The pain was explosive and immediate. There was a split second, however brief it was, where your mouth was trapped open. A scream caught deep in your throat and all you wanted was to release it, but your body was wrapped up in agony. Namjoon could’ve made this experience more pleasurable. You weren’t sure how you knew, but you had to believe anything was better than being treated like a bone for a ravenous dog. But this…this was meant to be a punishment. A punishment meant more for Jungkook than for yourself and, unfortunately, you were forced along on this ride.

The pain made it hard to focus on anything else. You were aware of Namjoon’s mouth kneading into the soft skin of your breast. The way he made sure his teeth scraped at the tissue inside causing a sharp pain that resembled a bee sting to hit at every nerve. Your vision began to blur with unshed tears as they held their position looking up at the opulent ceiling. Your mind struggled to imagine yourself somewhere else; anywhere but here. Somewhere safe back in your apartment watching reruns of your latest Netflix obsession or drinking an endless supply of poorly made coffee to cram for exams, because you always procrastinate everything. Trying out the latest cafes or finding comfort in getting lost in the shelves of the latest hole-in-the-wall bookstore you could find.

You were ready to make your home in your latest scenario when another voice rose up around you. A scream that turned into a roar of pure rage filled the room and forced you out of your haze. This second voice was equally as terrifying and when Namjoon lifted his mouth off of your breast, you found yourself terrified to find the home that housed that voice. You didn’t have to look far.

Directly in front of you with his body trapped behind the couch was Jungkook, but not the Jungkook you’d meet under fluorescent street lights and full of giddiness for the hunt. It wasn’t the one you’d experienced in your dreams or greeted you the moment you woke up. No, this Jungkook lit goosebumps of fear along your skin and the breath to stop cold in your lungs.

This man - this creature - your eyes glanced over could only be described as a nightmare. All the fairytales and their monsters must have gotten their inspiration from him.

Jungkook’s jaw was horribly distended, fangs longer, as another scream racked through his body. His crimson eyes wide in all his building fury and kept darting back and forth between Namjoon’s lips hovering over the fresh bite on your breast and back to you. He looked ready to strike. His hands grasping on the back of the couch like he was seconds from hauling himself over.

“She’s mine! I claimed her and she chose me!”

The bass of his words reverberated off the walls and came crashing against your chest crushing the breath you’d been holding in your lungs. You were struggling to get any air, but the terror you felt looking between him and the man who still held you hostage by your neck, pressed against his body, kept you paralyzed.

“She was never yours to claim!” Namjoon’s reply brought your eyes back to him and you instantly regretted it. “You forget your place, Jungkook, but I will be more than happy to remind you. Alice.”

Like a dog called by its master, Alice wove her way through the people to stand a few inches in front of Namjoon. It was comical the way she acted like his bodyguard and the way she used her body as a barrier. How did she expect to stand a chance against something like Jungkook?

You didn’t have a chance to try and understand how she could be so cocky. So sure of herself. The curiosity you felt was quickly shifted into a rage so potent it turned your vision black. It filled your mouth with bile and evicted a scream from deep in your belly. Your own roar that sounded reminiscent of Jungkook’s.

“You call your bitch to do your dirty work, my king?”

Jungkook’s voice dripped with acid. His hatred of the woman standing a few inches in front of you evident in the heavy mockery of his tone. It wasn’t lost on Namjoon. His own hand tightening on your neck until you weren’t sure if he was going to snap it, but the rage in your belly wouldn’t allow you to care. It came with an unforgiveness and wanted one simple thing: to make them bleed.

Your eyes began to snap back and forth between Namjoon and Alice. The movement flickering like a movie reel where the frame never changed, but with each passing new image of their face a snarl raised further up your lips. Your chest heaving in ragged breaths where you were sure at any minute you’d start foaming at the mouth.

These people! No, these fucking witches! I hate them. Every last single fucking one of them. If I ever get the chance, they’ll all die screaming with my teeth ripping their throat open. See how quick their hocus pocus saves them, then.

The toxicity of your thoughts felt like they were yours, but they couldn’t be. Weren’t you, yourself, a witch? You didn’t have any intention of offing yourself anytime soon. The craziness of how extreme the thoughts were was enough to clear your head. Your eyes blinking past the blackening dots of your anger to turn your head and look at Jungkook. His chest heaving as hard as yours and that rage that had contorted his face, the hatred in his eyes, seemed to be the perfect mirror of your own.

And just before his anger took over again - yes, his anger - it dawned on you these emotions weren’t your own. Your body now housed the feelings of this man and a million other questions began to spread through your mind. All those questions would have to wait, because as soon as you had a moment of clarity it was gone once more in a fit of rage. A strength you didn’t think you could possess tore you free from Namjoon. His brows lifted in surprise just before your fist connected with a plop against his jaw. You weren’t strong enough to actually hurt him, but stun him was all you were after.

That rage that was brewing in the pits of your stomach released in another scream. The sound of Jungkook’s own resonated with yours until Namjoon answered. His jaw cracking open further to show further razor sharp teeth. You knew he was pissed and was done playing nice, but you couldn’t see past Jungkook’s rage.

Jungkook made a move to hurl himself over the couch, snapping Namjoon’s attention back to him. The look on his eyes spoke plainly that there would be no mercy.

“Alice!”

The demand in Namjoon’s voice was grave and Alice responded immediately.

“With pleasure,” she purred.

Her full attention brought to the rushing vampire before her. There was a moment, where everything felt like it stopped in slow motion. The beat of your heart skips as you realize Namjoon had set her up to fail. Alice was going to die, ripped apart, and screaming by the one who hated her the most and yet, she was unafraid of death. She stood her ground; body powerful and stoic. A single hand rose up just a few inches before Jungkook would’ve collided with her and she spoke: “Flecte concrescentes putrescunt*.”

One second, Jungkook was inches from tearing her throat out and the next he was a twisted mess on the floor. Whatever Alice had done caused Jungkook’s legs to snap at angles that weren’t normal. His back cracking and reshaping as if the spine itself had been split on the inside. It was a grotesque image. An image that would haunt your dreams in its darkest corners; the imagery of Jungkook’s screams of agony only adding to it as his body continued to crack and rotting the flesh away to expose dying organs underneath.

You tried to run to him - to turn away - but Namjoon was back to holding you in place and forcing you to watch. Jungkook continued to scream until his throat caved in from rot and still his mouth stayed open. A silent one filling the air as his eyes full of fire watched with hunger on Alice’s position.

You couldn’t believe what’d just taken place. How words forced this powerful being to crumble at her feet like sand, but Alice had her own power. You’d felt it in the way the air shifted in the room and felt the oppression of it before she’d given, whatever it was, a place to call home.

Namjoon brought you back to his side. His face no longer showing its truth and back to being the well-hidden mask of beauty he’d always worn. He gave you a cautionary smile before his eyes drifted over Jungkook’s contorted figure on the floor and nodded to some men.

“Take him back to his room and seal the door. Let him stay locked inside for a few days so his hunger can build.” Namjoon forced you to move forward with him, his long legs purposely stepping over his underling as he gave him one last fleeting glance. “You are forbidden to eat for two weeks, Jungkook. Let’s see if your anger and pride can keep you from going mad, hmm.”

With his words hanging in the air as if they were law, Namjoon continued to hold him close to his body. You weren’t sure where he was taking you and you couldn’t seem to care. The lingering sensations of Jungkook’s anger were still boiling beneath the surface and it took every ounce of control you had not to turn back and look at him one last time.

Namjoon draped his arm across your shoulders to pull you in tight. His lips landed in your hair as he spoke, “You two will be staying away from each other from now on.”

You wanted to tell him you agreed, but you knew it would be a lie. He - nor anyone else - would ever be able to keep Jungkook from you now, and you weren’t a hundred percent sure if you were worried or excited at the prospect. You should’ve been focused on where Namjoon was taking you with Alice close at his heels. Your mind, however, had unfortunately found a home inside insidious doe eyes and a soft bunny smile.

to be cont’d

* bend and rot

112 notes · View notes

obae-me · 4 years

Note

Hi! It said requests were open so here is one. So pretty much how the brothers would react to an MC who says "I love you" after they had helped them with something. Thats something I do regularly, like someone helps them and they respond with "Oh my gosh I love you, thank you so much!" Cause. Affection. Idk, i just found the idea to be cute.

This is such a cute idea! I hope I pulled it off okay, for some reason Belphie’s is a bit angsty because I like pain I guess, but most of it is fluff! Thank you for your suggestion! 💜

Lucifer

He openly admitted it caught him off guard at first. What he will never admit is how harshly the air escaped from his lungs. Or how quickly his mind went blank at the words.

He had simply brought MC some tea, noticing how hard they had been studying. Working day and night to try to catch up and understand topics demons themselves had spent decades learning. He was proud of them for working so hard. He settled the tea down by them, watching them beam with appreciation.

“Is that for me?”

Their question elicited an amused hum from him. “Is there anyone else in here?”

They wrapped their fingers around it excitedly, entirely grateful. “Ugh, thank you, I love you, I needed this.”

He had been lucky he settled the teacup down before they spoke. Had it remained in his hands, he most assuredly would’ve dropped it, or spilt the contents at the very least. He was not prepared at all. They hadn’t been down here nearly long enough to fall in love with him, right? Was he that alluring? He must’ve done something wrong, he was sure he had been focused solely on being intimidating. He didn’t remember doing anything in particular to elicit such a response. He was flattered, but...maybe--surely-- he had heard incorrectly.

“You…” He blinked a few times as he shoved his emotions into the back of his mind, the silent screaming in his head muffled by his usual calm exterior. “..love me?”

MC covered their mouth with their hands, recognizing his confusion no matter how hard he tried to hide it. “No, no!”

Well now he was a bit irritated, and secretly disappointed even. Were they playing a joke on him?

They stammered and turned more in their seat to look at him. “What I mean is, I just kinda use the term ‘I love you’ as a general term, not an…” They blushed, “..intimate one. I say it all the time to people, I’m really sorry for confusing you. I’ll try not to say it as casually.”

It was a bit unusual to hear something like that thrown around so often, it reminded him of his days in the Celestial Realm, love thrown around at the drop of a hat. The Devildom was a lot less...affectionate. He shook his head, any sign of his surprise now completely gone from view. “Don’t change a harmless habit like that for me, I just wasn’t expecting it. I’ll know now for the future.”

It takes him quite a while to get used to it, taking every ounce of concentration not to blush whenever MC says that they love him. Once he does get used to it, he’s fond of it and may or may not continually go out of his way to perform some simple gesture to encourage them to say it to him more often. It takes even longer after that for him to finally respond with “I love you too” making them stop dead in their tracks, heart fluttering, mouth ajar, much like he did that first day when he brought them a simple cup of tea. He relished the look on their face.

How such a human stirred up these feelings within him is beyond his understanding.

Mammon

He was an open mess when MC first expressed it to him. He’d done what? Just find a pretty rock on the ground? It was shiny and smooth, surely worth a fortune, but when he went to see how much it was worth, it was declared utterly worthless. So he gave it to MC--but only because it was useless okay?! It’s not like he likes MC or anything, that’s not what this is about. Obviously.

He handed it over, acting casual, like it was nothing. Their eyes lit up at it, watching it glint mesmerizing colors in the moonlight, reacting like it might as well have been a diamond. “Whaaat, it’s so cool, I love you, thank you!”

“Don’t say I never do anything for-” It had taken a few seconds to process, but once he realized the words that had come out of their mouth, he went frozen. Rigid. His other brothers might’ve called it a miracle. His jaw was open, his glasses had somehow slipped to the end of his nose, threatening to fall off. He didn’t even blink.

“I’m sorry, I guess demons aren’t quite used to that huh? I use it as a friendly term, I used to say it to my friends all the time back home.”

He was still as stone for a good long time, gradually building up the concern in MC’s chest the more he was reactionless. Had they broken him? Once he finally gathered his one erratic brain cell in order, it was like someone hit a sudden unpause. He quickly puffed out his chest with both his hands on his hips. The explanation they gave him went in through one ear and out the other, as he was still focused on the ‘I love you’.

“Don’t freak me out like that, human, but of- of course if you were to love someone, it’d be me, eh? I don’t blame you, it would be hard to resist the Great Mammon.”

He’ll get a big head about it, strutting around, bragging to anyone who would listen--not that he gave them a say on the matter--that MC expressed they loved him. Doesn’t matter if there were romantic intentions or not, MC loved him, and he wouldn’t let it go. He’ll ignore the fact that MC will say that to most anyone.

“Yeah, well, when they say that about me, it’s different!” Or he’ll put on an act. “Yeah? Not like I care about some dumb human!”

The more he takes time to know MC, the more possessive he acts, and he gets a little bent out of shape anytime MC says ‘I love you’ so casually to anyone other than him. Mostly because he’s greedy for it, he wants those words to be his and his alone. He wants MC to be his...and his alone.

“Oi, MC, you can’t just go saying that to anyone...It’s our thing...you know?” He’ll get endlessly teased about it by everyone in the household, but no matter how much he gets pestered about it, he still wants to hear MC say it.

Only if things get romantic between them, will he be vulnerable with MC. Whenever they’re alone, he’ll get in close, melting against MC’s touch. With MC he can feel these strange and addicting feelings. With his hidden insecurities coming to light, he’ll ask MC the same question every night. “You love me, right? Like...love love me?...I...love love you too.”

Levi

MC had been convinced they gave the poor boy an actual heart attack. Although, to be perfectly fair, almost anything MC does puts Levi in a tizzy. It’s not their fault, he’s just sensitive.

They had been playing games together, nothing too unusual. Together, MC and Levi, the Best Friend Duo, battled an intense match against other real players. It had been close, but with both of their talents combined (admittedly Levi doing a lot of impressive carrying) they managed to strike victorious.

MC felt a rush, their head tingling a bit. They had been on the edge of their seat the whole time, positively exhilarated when they won. “Whoo! That was all thanks to you, Levi! I love you!”

First, MC heard the controller clatter out of his hands. They turned to look at him, his face went completely red, his eyes flicking back and forth out of control, not focusing on anything in particular. He had a hand clutching over his chest. Then to add on top of that, he completely collapsed.

“Levi!” MC’s shout was loud enough to bring some of his other brothers to check the commotion. After a short examination, they declared that Levi was fine, just dazed and lightheaded, although the color in his face refused to go away for quite some time.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I meant it in a friendly way.”

He’ll end up locking himself in his room for days on end after the event, trying to wrap his head around how ‘I love you’ and ‘friendly’ could ever be even remotely the same. That’s not how it’s supposed to go! It’s supposed to be like...like in fiction where both of the love interests are alone, finally having the chance to meet up under a pretty sky, possibly under strenuous circumstances beyond their control, inevitably forcing them to admit their feelings!

He’ll get over it, he always does, but when he comes back he finds out MC now deliberately avoids saying ‘I love you’ to him. They meant it for his own safety, truly, but his Envy is now rubbing away at his normal shy personality.

It'll get to the point where he can’t hold back anymore. “How come you tell everyone else you love them but me!”

“Because last time...you collapsed, and then went MIA for almost a week! I didn’t want to hurt you anymore. Is this not what you wanted?”

He ends up using his arm to cover his burning face. “I...I...I...I…” After several more consecutive ‘I’s, Levi finally tells MC that he didn’t want to be treated differently, he wanted MC to tell him that they loved him too. “Because I...lo..lo...lov...I appreciate you, MC!”

MC will chuckle a little, giving him one of his favorite headpats. “I love you too, Levi.” He doesn’t collapse this time, but feels his knees get a little weak. He refuses to remove his arm from his face because now there are fresh tears flooding from his eyes that he doesn’t want MC to see. He loves them too, so much his physical body can’t handle it. Even if he doesn’t have the courage yet to say it, he’ll tell them one day.

Satan

He’s quite angry with himself for how he reacted, which isn’t a huge surprise. He does wish he would’ve handled it better, but he had no idea those three words would be sprung on him so suddenly.

He’s usually quite down to earth, but not even the many romance novels he’s read--and if you tell anyone that he reads gushy romance novels, he will kill you--had prepared him for this. Where was the buildup, the slow rising passion before the eventual confession? Despite occasional temper tantrums and pranking tendencies, he’s truly an old soul. He’s a ‘my dearest, shall we take a stroll, and perhaps, should our shoulders brush, would you permit me a show of boldness, of passion, I dream for the day our fingers intertwine’ kinda guy. So MC’s ‘I love you’ was many chapters early for him.

He’d crossed paths with MC near the front door to the House of Lamentation. MC had just gotten back from RAD, being kept by Diavolo himself. Every one and a while, after classes, Diavolo personally checks up on them to discuss the program. Meanwhile, the demon of wrath was just on his way out, a full stack of books in his arms.

“Hey, Satan, where’re you off to?” MC attempted to catch his gaze behind the many tomes stacked against his chest.

“Ah, off to return these books back to the Library.” Some hair fell before his face, but with the absence of free hands, he utilized a puff of air from his mouth to blow the strands away.

“I see, be safe then, love you!”

The words caught him off guard, and with his focus distracted, his foot caught against an unfortunate crack in the pathway. He tumbled, the books in his arms scattering themselves all over the front yard. MC turned and attempted to help, but with Satan’s panicked scramble, he ended up smacking his head against MC’s.

“My-uh-apologies-I-” He stuttered while he frantically tried picking up the books, only to have some continue to slip from his arms.

“Here, use my bag,” MC opened the backpack that had been around their shoulders. It was already full of some textbooks and assignments, but it was enough to lessen some of the struggle. He gave them a small thank you as he slung the bag over his shoulder, the remaining stragglers tucked under his arm. He waited till MC went back into the house, and then he angrily tore the front gate off its hinges. He looked like such an idiot just now.

He knows MC means not much of it other than general affection, once he thinks about it. Alongside Lucifer, anytime MC now says it, he’ll act unaffected by it. The truth is, the never ending rage burning beside him magically subsides anytime those words fall from their lips.

If he works softly and intelligently enough, perhaps he’ll have forged a tight enough bond where MC can say it for real, and the fire in his soul can find some peace.

Asmo

Honestly, despite his over dramatizations and flamboyant nature, he’s the least affected out of all the brothers. Trust him, he’s had plenty of demons try to crawl their way back to him after a night of fun, insisting that they’re in love with him. So, he’s heard it a lot, and it’s not his favorite. That being said, he discovered that MC is probably the only one he’ll tolerate the dreaded L word with.

He’d sat there, working on MC’s nails, giving them one of his—as he calls it—Asmo-tastic manicures. MC appreciates the pampering, even if Asmo uses it mostly as an excuse to hold hands and get close to the human.

When Asmo was complete, MC looked down at their newly soft hands with beautifully decorated nails, feeling a bit closer to the demons now that they had matching manicures. “It’s beautiful, Asmo, I love you, thanks!”

His chest did flutter a bit, and he let out a stream of giddy giggles as he pressed MC into him for a hug. “MC, you’re so cute, I can’t take it!”

He had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t use the words ‘I love you’ ever, no matter what, but if MC was using it so casually, why can’t he, it didn’t mean much of anything right? He quickly turns a 180 on the idea, and says it as often to MC as he can.

“Bye, MC, love you, dear! You’re wearing the outfit I gave you? I love you!” But his new form of affection is now not just centered towards the human, it’s now directed towards his brothers as well. No one is safe. “You’re giving me this, Lucifer? I love you! Beel, a snack for me? I love you!”

He’s such a hype man, and the affection spreading throughout the House of Lamentation by his and MC’s hand is infectious. Even if they don’t mean to, simply Asmo’s added influence has the brothers saying ‘I love you’ to each other more often, which has led to plenty of entertaining moments. Mammon said it once to Lucifer on accident, which admittedly filled the eldest with a bit of pride, especially at seeing Mammon’s mortified face. Beel and Belphie have no problem saying it between themselves, although it leaves them softer than they had been in a while. But perhaps the most shocking of them all was when Lucifer sleepily mumbled it to Satan, who then parroted it back to him without thinking. Both were a bit flustered, but Satan was so angry about it he wanted to tear both Lucifer’s and his own tongue out. The two refuse to talk about it, but they were both a little softer to each other that week.

But why are we talking about the others? This should be all about Asmo! You know how when someone continually says something out of irony after a while they end up speaking it unironically? That’s what was happening to Asmo, much to his confusion and unfortunately his fear. He had never...loved someone before, not in a romantic way, it was too much commitment, it was too much...emotion. But the more he continued telling MC he loved them...the more he started to believe it. The more he noticed the little things about them that he couldn’t get enough of. So one day, he stopped saying ‘I love you’ altogether.

MC met with him in private, concerned over his new out of character action. “Asmo? What’s wrong, I noticed you’ve been...distant, which isn’t like you.”

Of course they would notice, they always did. “Oh...MC...I…” For once, he was actually shy, covering up his own beautiful face to hide, an incomprehensible action. He could barely speak, he was so...scared? “MC I think...I...I think I love you.”

Beel

He was second place in the ‘staying calm’ category when MC said it. He’s a family man, loving those around him is in his nature. So hearing MC say those words, he merely took it as a family thing, and he was all too happy to bring MC into the family.

He noticed MC had been looking just a bit run down, and so, he shared a single snack with them. They practically glowed, looking up at him with a heart-melting smile. “Thanks Beel, I love you, thank you!”

Suddenly the food he was eating tasted ten times better, and he had been fully convinced for a while that it was some magic spell MC put on him. He almost ends up crying. Honestly, it’s been such a long time since he’s heard words like those. He didn’t realize how starved he was for affection. He pulls them into a tight hug that lasts for several minutes. He let them go eventually, but only because he needed hands to eat. He continued to scarf down the mouth-watering food, although the ache in his stomach wasn’t as pronounced as it had been.

He ends up giving MC a little snack anytime they say ‘I love you’, because he finds them adorable, and his way of reciprocating affection is with food. He loves MC immensely, so it’s only natural he shares his favorite things with them. Only, he was unaware that he was more or less training MC and himself by doing this. In fact, it was unbeknownst to everyone save Satan, who is very aware of what Pavlov’s Theory is. Satan doesn’t say anything though, he wants to see how this plays out.

The more MC says ‘I love you’ the more they get rewarded by Beel, and the demon has now conditioned himself by associating food with MC’s tenderness and endearment. MC steadily increases the time they spend with the demon of gluttony, almost stuck to his side as often as Belphie. MC finds they can’t help but smother him with love and affection, which Beel can’t get enough of since gluttony is his sin. And Beel discovered that he always has some sort of treat on hand that he refuses to touch because it’s MC’s.

The day MC finally caught on was the day Satan finally intervened. He himself spent some private time with MC, and, much like Beel had for a while now, he gave MC an unsolicited treat.

They hardly looked at him as they instinctively stated, “I love you!” Then ended up pausing for a long time. Satan teased them mercilessly before he explained, and MC felt their entire body grow hot with embarrassment. However, they took this opportunity to do something for Beel in return. They prepared a big meal for him, texting him to bring him down into the dining room, just for the two of them. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the banquet, but for once, his first instinct wasn’t to eat. He wrapped MC tightly in his arms, tears almost streaming down his face. MC’s presence seemed to satiate him almost as well as a twelve course meal.

“I love you, MC! I love you so much!”

Belphie

As shocking as it is, Belphie reacted the most severely. Which if you actually take the time to think about it, probably isn’t that surprising at the end of the day. It was the last thing he expected to hear, especially after everything that happened.

All he had done was run into MC in the hall. Lucifer had called Light’s Out and anyone who didn’t want to be punished would be heading straight to bed. Since he sleeps all day, he was fairly awake at this hour, not to mention recently he had felt annoyingly restless. Finally free to roam the house like he wished left him wandering and wanting. There was still something he needed, but he wasn’t sure what. MC stepped past him to get to their room, already looking exhausted, a large yawn escaping their lungs.

“Heading to bed?” They asked him, and he still found it difficult to bring his eyes up to theirs.

“Maybe soon.” He acted nonchalant.

MC rubbed their eyes, gently touching his shoulder as they passed. “Okay, love ya, get some good rest.”

He was grateful MC had immediately walked into their room, because he wasn’t prepared for how extreme his body would react. He found the energy upholding his legs went missing, and he had to lean against the closest wall to keep from crumpling to the ground. He continued to try to trick himself into believing he didn’t care. They were a human, he didn’t care, why would he care? Why should he feel guilty for everything he’d done? He was a demon, a monster, he’d embraced that when he fell, or he thought he did. But...being around MC...it made him feel like he was back in the Celestial Realm, filled with hope, with love, something he was sure he’d never truly feel again.

He recalled before the inevitable fall what his dear sister had told him before his life had been shattered before his eyes. “Remember Belphie, I love you.”

He couldn’t hold himself up any longer, clutching his pillow to his chest as the hole in his heart he had filled with sleep and anger crumbled away. He pressed his face deep into the fluff of the cushion as he sobbed. His heart felt like it was stinging like wounds often do when they’re cleaned and healing. It hurt. It threatened to break him. He had tried avoiding feelings. How could MC be so nice to him after everything? What had he done to deserve it?

Beel, influenced by the magical connected emotions to his twin, left everything he had been eating behind to come get him immediately. The intense pounding in his chest worried him to no end, he needed to find Belphie now. He found the demon of sloth curled up on the floor of the hallway, convulsing and shaking from violently crying. Beel hated seeing his beloved brother like this, but on the inside he was secretly thankful. He knew Belphie couldn’t keep acting like nothing mattered, it wasn’t healthy. He was finally coming to terms with everything, opening the door to finally, after all this time, being able to move on.

The next time the human sees the youngest brother, they see that he’s a little more aware, maybe not quite awake, but mindful of the people around him. For once, he talks about what he’s going to do in the future, looking forward instead of repeating broken events of the past. He finds that being around MC, if they’ll let him, helps the feeling in his ribs hurt a bit less, that the personality he thought had been locked up was starting to escape. Life itself matters a bit more than it used to. He has to be ready though, because he can’t afford to cry in front of his brothers the next time MC tells him ‘I love you’. Even if they think nothing by it, it means more than the world to him. But as always, he’ll act apathetic about it.

He’s working on it though, and all because MC showed him a bit of kindness despite his unforgivable actions. All he needed was a bit of love.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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taetaespeaches · 4 years

Text

“You’ve been holding out on me, Min.”

yoongi x reader (oc) genre: fluff; slightly crack honestly word count: 1.8K

a/n: So remember when Yoongi, Jin, and Jimin played Just Dance a while back? Well, this is inspired from that. Yoongi and Kid are just being their soft playful selves as they play a bit of Just Dance together. It’s honestly so dumb hahaha. But I hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading! :))

As a grown woman, maybe spending your Friday evening playing Just Dance alone wasn’t the coolest activity you could be doing. Then again, maybe it was. Afterall, you were an absolute ace at the PrimaDonna dance.

Singing along as you went through the moves, suddenly, your front door opened, your focus leaving the TV screen as your wide eyes met Yoongi’s tired ones across the room. It was a matter of a seconds, hell, milliseconds, before his lips curved up into a gummy smile at your expense.

“Jesus, Kid,” he chuckled amusedly, “is this what you do when I’m not here?”

Holding back a smile of your own by biting down on the inside of your lower lip, you shook your head, causing Yoongi to only smile even wider as he shut the door. “Only on Friday nights,” you joked, Yoongi tossing his head back in laughter.

“I was not expecting to find you like this,” he told you through his amusement, you finally cracking a smile as you giggled.

“Well perhaps you weren’t supposed to come home early and catch me in this compromising position,” you countered sassily.

Yoongi raised his hands above his head in mock surrender just before kicking his shoes off. “Not compromising, just surprising,” he corrected with a small smile. Walking toward you, he nodded to the screen. “Go ahead,” he beamed. “Show me what you got.”

Cocking your head at him, you let a small chuckle slip out before nodding in acceptance. “I will then,” you told him, focusing back on the game as you tried to find your place. The song was heading into the bridge and the final chorus when you jumped back into the choreography, your boyfriend taking a seat on the floor to the side of the living room.

“Got you wrapped around my finger babe,” you sang along to the song, Yoongi’s eyes glued to you as you blew him a kiss, which was a perfectly placed part of the choreography. Scoffing at you, the man’s mouth spread into a fond smile as he continued staring at you.

As the song picked up for the final chorus, the game telling you to run in place as you moved your arms back and forth quickly above your head, you couldn’t help but laugh in response to your boyfriend’s burst of giggles at your ridiculous dancing.

“Wow,” he cheered happily, dragging the word out as you danced along. “You’re actually really good at this,” he said in what almost seemed like surprise.

“Of course I am,” you agreed defensively through a smile. “You should see me do Rasputin,” you added, Yoongi letting leaning to the side as he nearly crumbled to the floor in laughter. “Don’t make me laugh, I’m trying to get five stars here,” you yelled out to him as he continued giggling quietly at you.

“You took like a two-minute break, there’s no way you’re getting even three stars,” he countered playfully, you squealing as you went through the moves even more intensely, trying to build your score up.

However, your efforts were futile when you caught Yoongi out of the corner of your eye minimally going through the moves on the screen, barely giving any effort as he lightly swayed his arms back and forth. Stopping your motions almost completely, you turned toward Yoongi to watch him.

“Yes, King, give me nothing,” you teased, the man looking to you with a challenging expression, his eyes slightly widened.

“Well give me something groovy,” he nodded to the screen, your orbs widening in response this time.

Pointing to the television, you repeated his words. “Something groovy? Ok, I see you Grampa Min, let’s see what you can do,” you grinned as Yoongi began to stand up.

Completely voiding your own score, you quickly set up the dance you already had in mind for your funky little dancer man. As he shed himself of his jacket, tossing it on the couch behind you both, he turned to the screen to find Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! by ABBA starting.

Yoongi began chuckling in realization, his shoulders shaking as he let his head fall forward just slightly. “Ok, ok, ok,” he collected himself, pulling his shirt sleeves up his forearm. Preparing to play the game, he rolled his head back and forth from shoulder to shoulder to play up the seriousness of the situation. “You know me well,” he noted, commenting on the perfect song selection. Smirking to yourself you took a seat where Yoongi was previously sat watching you, settling in to enjoy the show Yoongi was about to put on for you.

Getting into character, he sat on the couch, looking around the room in feigned boredom to mimic the avatar on screen, already sending you into fits of giggles. Suddenly, he broke out into the choreography, swinging his arm in a circular motion with a swivel of his hips.

As you cheered in excitement, Yoongi held back the laugh that was threatening to leave his lips, scrunching his face up in an attempt to look serious. “Whoah!” You yelled, as Yoongi nodded cockily, going through the moves almost too perfectly. “Main dancer Suga didn’t come to fucking play,” you shouted out, causing Yoongi to break his composure as he shyly laughed, keeping his focus on the screen.

His attempts to ignore you were useless as you continued to hype him up throughout the song, never leaving much time between your playful cheers.

When the disco instrumental came in towards the end of the song, you couldn’t help but fall against the floorboards as you laughed. The choreography showed out with some of the most Yoongi-esque moves of the entire dance.

“Yes, King, give me everything,” you cheered to him, the man crumbling instantly at the comment as he silently laughed before screeching in exhilaration.

“Ah, Kid,” he complained through an exaggerated scream as he tried to get back into the dance but struggled to find his place as he continued to laugh. “I was on my way to a perfect score,” he whined through his amusement.

Placing your hand over your mouth, you promised not to make any more comments, the man smiling widely at your childish antics. Suddenly showing how winded he had become, he huffed. “Fuck, how long is this dance?” He continued to grumble, only making you giggle even more.

When he finally finished the dance, pulling a pretty damn decent score, he fell back against the sofa as you stood up. “This has to be one of the stupidest things we’ve ever done,” he vouched, you giggling as you chose the next song.

“I know, I love it,” you giggled, Yoongi sighing just before chuckling once again.

“Another one?” He questioned in exasperation as you turned around to glare at him, still manspreading on the sofa as he took a deep breath.

“Yes, now get up and dance with me,” you whined as you reached out for his hand and tugged on it, the man feigning reluctance as he stood way too easily for someone who was actually disinclined to do another number.

And when he realized the dance you selected was Havana, he let out a cute “oooh,” in anticipation.

Starting the dance, you both stayed focused on the screen, not giving each other much acknowledgment as your playful competition commenced. However, when you got to the pre-chorus, Yoongi began singing along with the “Ooh’s” in the song, and you couldn’t help but sneak a glance, catching him amid a sexy little hip move as he smoothly moved his arms.

“Oh my god,” you squealed, “show me what those hips can do,” you teased, Yoongi smiling with a scoff, though he stayed focused on the dance.

Giggling to yourself, you tried to turn your attention back to the screen but Yoongi was proving to be quite the distraction as he wiggled his hips both adorably and seductively and sang along to the chorus.

“What the fuck, why are you so good at this?” You giggled, Yoongi chuckling as he looked toward you for a brief moment.

“Am I taking this too serious?” He pondered with a gummy grin as you tossed your head back in laughter.

“No, I’m just impressed,” you clarified as you continued to carelessly go through the moves, most of your attention on your boyfriend.

“Yeah?” He asked excitedly, his eyebrows raising. “You like this?” He teased alluringly.

“I do actually,” you replied while biting your lip, turning toward him, casting the game aside. “You got a nice pair of hips on you, are they real?” You teased, Yoongi snorting in response.

“Are they real?” He repeated your question in slight confusion.

“You didn’t sneak around and get a hip replacement, did you, Grampa?” You joked slyly, the man instantly sighing before his shoulders began to shake as he laughed in defeat. “No but really, you’ve been holding out on me, Min,” you teased. It took Yoongi another moment before he realized you were no longer dancing, the man looking to you with a quick turn of his head, shooting you a wide-eyed look.

“What?” He asked, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Wait, really? That did something for you?” He asked in shock, you holding back a laugh at his reaction. “Shit, come here,” he grinned, stepping toward you as his hands found the sides of your face, pulling you into a kiss.

Giggling against his lips, he smiled into the kiss as he led you to the sofa, Havana still playing in the background though neither of you paid it any attention. When your legs hit the couch, you sat back against the cushions, Yoongi hovering over you as he chased your lips.

Shoving against his chest, you directed him to take a seat before you quickly swung a leg over his lap, straddling him. He smirked up at you as his hands rested on your upper thighs as you leaned toward him, catching his lips in a heated kiss. Your hands were positioned on his shoulders, sliding up his neck when the song finally ended, Yoongi breaking the kiss to look around your frame quickly.

“Wait,” he smiled, giggling slightly. “Did that actually do something for you or were you just distracting me from destroying you in that round?” He asked, you looking behind you to see your one star compared to his three.

Looking back to him, you smirked. “Mhmm,” you nodded, refusing to give him a clear answer before attaching your lips to his once again, Yoongi chuckling into the meeting.

“Such a brat,” he whispered against your lips just before deepening the kiss. When his hands squeezed your thighs, sending butterflies throughout your body, neither of you no longer cared how you ended up in your current position, you on his lap as your lips trailed to his neck.

As much fun as Just Dance was for a Friday night activity, the current one was just a bit more exciting. It was time for Yoongi to show you exactly what those hips could do.

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junicai · 4 years

Text

drop offs.

| summary | During filming ‘Highway To Heaven’, there is a small altercation between the heel of Aria’s boot, a loose rock, and the edge of a cliff.

| word count | 3.2k

| warnings | near death experiences (only sort of), swearing

| era | circa. 2019

20. “Put your arm around my - or just fall on me, that works too.”

58. “Don’t tell me to calm down!”

The hot desert air blew roughly against the thin cotton of Aria’s shirt - fluttering the material and tugging it against the single button that was holding the fabric closed. The atmosphere was dry and dusty, hence the steadily growing pile of empty water bottles that was building up in the back seat of one of the staff vans that had driven the members to their filming location in the Mojave Desert.

Fanning herself, Aria knelt down to pull on the zipper of her boot, checking that it was still properly closed. Black heeled boots were, realistically, not the most suitable footwear for traversing the desert terrain, but the extra inches of height put her closer to Taeil in stature so she wasn’t going to complain.

However, the last thing she needed to happen was to stumble over a rock and twist her ankle in the middle of filming.

In an ideal world, she’d have perfect balance, even when teetering around on the four-inch, wide-based heel, (or just be four inches taller naturally), but with the wind as a major factor; Aria was stuck playing a balancing act with her body.

They’d been filming for the best part of the day, having arrived in the early morning to scout out the final locations and prep some of the equipment. The journey up in the van was tedious, and over two hours long, but Aria had made herself comfortable on Donghyuck’s shoulder twenty minutes after leaving their hotel, and promptly crashed out a few minutes after that.

Johnny had been the one to gently shake her shoulder, trying to wake her up without startling her while Donghyuck was attempting - and failing - to wriggle his way out from underneath her without jostling her too much. She’d crawled out of the car with a red mark imprinted on her cheek, that she rubbed at harshly when it was pointed out with a giggle by Jungwoo.

The crew had covered the solo shots first - using the time in between each shot to touch up make-up and hair, or in some of the members’ cases, explore the desert and chase unsuspecting lizards through the undergrowth.

Aria had squeaked when a flash of muddy green had darted past her foot, jumping back an inch and then another foot when a sprinting Taeil brushed past in hot pursuit.

She turned back to look at Taeyong who was watching from afar with a huffy look on his face, throwing up his hands when Taeil finally stopped running and turned around defeated.

“Hyung! It keeps going towards you but you’re not catching it!” The leader complained, walking towards him.

Aria raised her eyebrows in disbelief, moving away from the duo that seemed dead set on bothering the unknown creature to stand beside Mark at the edge of the road. “What exactly are they chasing?”

“Lizards.”

“Lizards?”

He nodded.

Humming softly, Aria shook her head and knelt down again to tug at the zipper on her boot. After a careful yank, she stood back up, having been satisfied that it was still tightly closed.

“Is that hurting you or something?” Mark questioned, looking over at her.

“Oh no,” Aria waved him off. “I don’t know, I’m just paranoid that it’s going to come undone. Bad feeling about it or whatever.” She shrugged. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“It’s not pinching you or anything? Because I’m pretty sure there’s band-aids in the back, I can grab you one if you need it?” Mark pressed on.

“No I’m alright. If it bothers me later on, I’ll get one myself okay?”

Mark frowned, still not satisfied.

Aria stood up on her tippy-toes to reach around Mark’s neck, swinging her arm around it. “Markie~ I’m okay! See?” She jumped lightly, hopping on one foot and then the other.

Conceding, he smiled at her, poking her stomach. “Race me.”

Aria hardly blinked. “You’re on.”

“I’m coming!” Donghyuck screamed from the other side of the road, pausing momentarily to check that there were no cars coming up on the otherwise deserted road, before crossing and moving to stand in between the other two maknaes. “Ready?”

“Always.”

“On your marks!”

“Get set!”

“Go!”

The trio set off at a run, dust flying up behind their shoes.

At an immediate disadvantage because of her designated footwear, Aria began to slow almost immediately, the other two boys racing ahead. She cupped her mouth in her hands, starting to call out to them to slow down, they were cheating, but was halted by another voice calling for her from across the other side of the road.

The race was halted as Aria was called for her own solo shots. She pouted at the boys, but claimed that because it was interrupted, then there could be no winner called, and they’d have to do it again later on.

Donghyuck and Mark readily agreed, and Aria left towards her specific filming location with a flutter of her fingers towards the pair.

Now, don’t get her wrong. Aria loved filming their music videos. Watching a creative idea and physical representation of their songs come to life firsthand was incredible, and the costuming, the hair design, the make-up, was all mind-blowing to her. Her hair roots were always crying at the end of a promotional period, but she genuinely thinks she’s never looked as good as she did with the soft, bubble-gum pink hair they’d bleached the strands to dye for this promotional set.

The bright lights and the group shots, dancing a new routine together for the first time in a professional setting that wasn’t the practice room - it was exhilarating.

What was not exhilarating, was the occasionally precarious filming locations that the directors decided fit the theme so well that it would be idiotic to pass up on.

That lead to situations like the current: Aria, Jaehyun, Doyoung, Johnny and Taeil all clustered together at the edge of a rather substantial cliff edge, leaning out over the ledge to see the camera that was filming them.

Aria had a firm grip on the back of Johnny’s shirt, trying to find a groove that she could wedge her heel into to prevent herself from falling should the rocks move from underneath her feet.

The ground was dry, and there was little to no purchase offered from the dust that coated the rolling pebbles. Additionally, the lack of grip on the bottom of her black boots wasn’t helpful, and Aria found herself scrabbling for even a semblance of grip.

“Aria!” A voice called out from the bottom of the cliff.

She leaned over to catch the eye of the cameraman. “We can’t see your face, you’re too far back. Can you shuffle forward a bit?”

Teeth pinching her bottom lip, Aria nodded hesitantly, sliding a hand up Jaehyun’s arm in a silent request for help as he was the one sitting closest to the edge of the cliff.

He took her hand in one of his own, the other moving to grab her elbow as she slowly stepped forward and out onto the front area of the protruding cliff. Here, Aria could feel the complete lack of substance beneath her feet, and although she knew it wasn’t true, it felt like the rock she was standing on was paper thin.

Her weight wobbled to-and-fro for a moment, and Jaehyun gripped her arm tightly.

“Careful.” He warned.

Aria let out a shaky exhale, peering down over the cliff edge. “Is this okay?” She called down.

A hum. “Maybe a little bit more? You’re slightly blocking Taeil at the moment. Just be careful, the rocks mightn’t be stable enough out there to support you, so go slowly.”

Aria didn’t think the rocks were stable enough to support her where she was standing currently, let alone another few inches out, but she began to tentatively step out regardless. Her hand clenched around Jaehyun’s.

Slowly, she moved out further, stepping out onto the edge of the cliff with one eye half closed, expecting the ground to shift but feeling nothing. Blinking in surprise, she then felt confident to transfer her entire weight forward, which was a mistake.

A small circular rock shifted beneath her heel, and Aria’s support crumpled out from beneath her.

She let out a shrill shriek, hands grasping at air behind her. She pushed herself against the falling ground, hoping for the cliff edge.

“Shit!” A strong hand tangled in the material of her shirt, pulling her back none-to-gently into a hard back, arms immediately coming to wrap around her waist and hold her there; steady.

Aria’s breath came in hard pants.

She was shaking rapidly, hands quaking as she tucked them underneath her own arms, eyes fixated on the ground where the rocks she had been stood on had crumbled. They had collected in a neat pile at the foot of the cliff - only a three metre or so drop, but substantial enough that one of the larger rocks had split into half, and the other rocks had cracks lining their sides.

God.

That was an awfully long way down.

Is that what she was standing over?

It was like she was removed from the situation. Aria was looking out over the cliff edge - but it wasn’t her viewpoint. Like a film camera, being watched on a small silver screen.

Where was the film crew?

Had they moved the equipment out of the way in the rocks in time?

Was there a camera buried beneath the pile of rocks?

“-ia, Aria- Riri!” A shout in her left ear, pulling her attention away from the swirling thoughts of oh god oh shit oh god oh s-

“Hey.” Jaehyun had spun her in his arms, dragging her eyes away from the cliff edge and catching her face in his hands, making her face him. “Hey. You’re okay. You’re okay, you’re safe. You’re okay.” His voice had a quiver to it, and his hands had yet to release their painfully tight grip on her arms.

She barely even registered it.

Aria’s voice broke out in a whimper, and as her eyes widened to slowly begin filling with tears, Jaehyun pulled her back into his chest, letting his hand come up to rub soothingly along her back. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you baby, you’re okay.” He soothed.

Her heart was ricocheting around her chest like a boomerang.

At some point, she had sunk to her knees and Jaehyun had followed her down, having pulled her away from the edge of the cliff immediately. She knelt slightly, before sinking bodily into his arms, and Jaehyun continued to murmur comfort into her ear as she buried her face in the loose material of his white shirt.

Her head pounded like a rushing river, too many thoughts too make a lot of sense of any singular one. Behind her eyes, the image of the rocks kept flashing, the feeling of the ground collapsing from beneath her feet, falling, the wind rushing through her ears, falling, a hand grasping the back of her shirt but the grip slipping through loose fingertips, falling, falling falling.

The pair stayed like that for a while - how long, Aria really wasn’t sure, she was more focused on trying to get herself to stop shaking like a caffeine addict going through withdrawals.

The rocks beneath her knees bit into the skin, but she welcomed the grounding feeling - a small bite of pain nipping through the overwhelming rush of emotions threatening to overtake her and swallow her whole.

Slowly though, her breath came back in measured breaths, calming from the harsh panting that was previously pulling at her lungs.

Taking stock of where she was, Aria began to register the other bodies around her. In the time it had taken for her to re-gather herself, Doyoung had settled behind her, hands hovering like he was afraid to startle her with a touch. Taeil was nowhere to be found, but upon a questioning look from Aria, Doyoung was quick to explain in a soft voice that he had followed Johnny down to get the back of the van set up for her - pulling out an ice-pack from the trailer and gathering the blankets from the other vans.

That had Aria moving to push herself to her feet, shaking her head. “No, no, I’m okay. We still have the group shots to film, I can do it. It’s fine.” She argued weakly.

Jaehyun pulled her back down into her lap with a firm grip. “No, it’s not fine. If it were fine, then you wouldn’t still be shaking like a goddamn leaf.”

Aria consciously clenched her muscles to stop the tremors running through her arms like shockwaves. “M’not.”

Doyoung sighed, raising a hand to run it over Aria’s mildly disheveled hair. It would have to be restyled later on, but the windswept look was something that they were aiming for, so he didn’t think it was too bad, all things considered.

“Baby, it’s okay to be scared after that. No one’s expecting you to do anything more today.”

“But it’s fine-”

“You could have died, Akari!” Jaehyun was shaking as well, something that Aria had just noticed. He dropped his head to rest on her shoulder. “You could have gotten seriously hurt. So please. Just, sit down in the van right now, okay?”

“Jae, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, hyung!”

Aria took in a stuttered breath. “B-but I’m ok-ay-” Her voice cracked slightly, tremors returning full-force.

The two boys returned their focus to the girl in between them, exchanging a meaningful glance that meant nothing to Aria. Doyoung wrapped his arms around her as well, and soon she was caught in a hug between them, finally letting the tears pool up in her eyes.

“I-I’m o-kay,” She stuttered out, fists gripping someone’s shirt - she didn’t care too much who it was at the time.

“Yeah,” Doyoung pressed a kiss to the top of her head, tightening his arms briefly. “You’re okay, baby, you’re okay.”

It wasn’t until sometime after, once Aria had managed to pull back the tears and had calmed the shaking to some degree, that Jaehyun gave her a soft prompt to stand up. Her legs were like a newborn foal beneath her, knees shifting and she leant out to grip at Doyoung’s arm again as he moved away.

“Here, here.” Jaehyun pulled her towards him. “Put your arm around my - or just fall on me. That works too.” His concerned tone was undercut by a ribbon of teasing, although it did little to mask how reluctant he was to let go of the young girl, even for a moment.

“Shush.” Aria straightened up herself from where she had face planted into his chest again, her knees having betrayed her to gravity, but this time made no complaint when Jaehyun’s arm retook its spot around her waist.

Together, with the aid of Doyoung, Aria made her way down the dusty cliffside, moving over to the van with an open door, and some of the members waiting around it anxiously.

Yuta was the first to break away from the group, making his way over to hoist Aria into his arms - paying no mind to her stuttered exclaim of hey! His arms slipped beneath her knees, and he lifted her gently, taking the weight off of Jaehyun’s staggering frame.

Upon reaching the van, it was like telepathy. Yuta turned to let Jaehyun take the weight of Aria from his arms - he already knew that the younger boy was shook up, and wouldn’t be comfortable unless he was physically touching Aria in some shape or form for the next few hours - while Taeyong was patting Mark on the back and alerting him to Aria’s arrival.

Jaehyun slid in first, before Aria was placed gently onto the blankets, Mark piling in behind her and proceeding to wrap her in another hug. This time though, it wasn’t her that was shaking, and she could feel the soft quiver of Mark’s hands as they pulled loosely at the bottom of her shirt.

Together, the two boys replicated the hug that Jaehyun and Doyoung had wrapped her in a few minutes ago.

“M’okay.” She whispered.

“You almost weren’t.” Came his huffed response.

“But I am.”

Mark gave no reply.

“God-” Jaehyun choked out a laugh, running a hand though his hair. “Never - and I mean never - do that again.”

She looked down. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Mark’s head had snapped up from where he had buried it in her shoulder. “For causing a cliff-collapse? Because I’m pretty sure there’s someone who needs to apologize for that and it’s not you its the director.”

Aria winced. She had watched through the sliver of the car door that was still open as Taeyong had cast a cold look over to Yuta and Johnny, the three men exchanging a nod before moving away from the vehicle and over to where the staff were finishing up with Donghyuck’s solo shots. The second youngest member had been a few minutes walk away when it had all happened, so he hadn’t been privy to the theatrics of it all; something that Aria was ultimately grateful for.

She wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to breath ever again if Donghyuck had been one of the men wrapped around her right then.

Either way, the three men had made their way out of view of the car, and Aria didn’t envy anyone who was on the other end of their glares. Taeyong had looked pissed, and honestly Aria was growing too tired to care.

After the shaking had died down, it was like her muscles had atrophied in under a minute, and suddenly she was left weakened and with the want to curl up in a ball to sleep.

It seemed, however, that Jaehyun had already prepared for this, and was moving Mark and himself around to allow Aria to curl up comfortably in the back of the van - her head in his lap and her feet in Mark’s.

“M’sorry.” She whispered again, just about to fall off into sleep.

“You’re okay, baby. It’s not your fault. We’re all just happy you’re okay.” Jaehyun murmured, petting her hair lightly.

“Thank you,” Aria turned her head to breath the words into Jaehyun’s stomach, hand coming to squeeze his arm. “Thank you for catching me.” Her voice broke slightly.

“I’m not about to let you down on my watch. And that includes falling to a potential death.” The weak attempt at a joke brought a watery laugh from Aria’s lips nonetheless.

“Can I say I saw the highway to heaven now?”

A soft chuckle, and another pet through her hair. “Sure, baby.”

With Jaehyun’s hand running soothing circuits through her hair, and Mark having worked off her boots - tutting lightly at the red marks that they had left - Aria drifted.

head full of cliff edges and falling.

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psychedelic-ink · 4 years

Text

This writing is a part of the Naughty Valentines Event I’m doing with @some-piece ! Be sure to check her out as well to see all the smutty goodness! :c

Requested by anon

Word Count:

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Prompt: “Touch me and you lose."

Genre: PWP, Smut, Lemon

Warnings: Pegging, fingering, femdom, dirty talking

“Touch me and you lose.”

You watched as Law’s eyes grew wide, he let out a painful groan as he stopped his hands. At how close it hovered you could almost feel his touch on your skin. A wicked smile spread across your lips as you took a step closer, his hands barely touching your ass. Law bit his bottom lips as he glared at you.

“Well that’s not fair now is it?” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your face. “If you look like that there’s no way I can not touch you.”

Your smile grew, he was right. You had worn your most irresistible lingerie and paraded yourself in front of him. You had to fight dirty or else you would never win this bet you had made for him.

If he touches you he loses and you get to peg him.

It was a fantasy you had from months and you craved it like you craved air. You wanted the man to moan out your name and look up at you with a flushed face as you made him feel good. For the goal you had in mind, you wouldn’t even mind walking naked if it gave you the results that you wanted.

Law let out an elongated breath as his hands hovered up, you could almost feel his fingers twitching, with a wink you bent over slightly and pressed your breasts together with your arms.

“Why don’t you just cave in Law,” you purred. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

His lips quivered as he gulped. This wasn’t even an issue of being pegged or not, the man just hated to lose.

“You know what?” he groaned. “Fuck it.”

With that he cupped your ass and squeezed your plum flesh. Your skin burned as he roughly continued to knead the mounds, he quickly pulled you on to his lap. You straddled him and he started to rub his clothed cock against your core. You let out a series of moans prompting him to latch his lips against your neck and nibble the flushed skin.

“Stop,” you breathed out. “You lost, it’s time for my reward…”

His hands stilled and he moved away from your neck, he gazed at you and you smiled. Placing a hand over his cheek you caressed his skin.

“Fine.” he sighed. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

The two of you quickly stripped each other as you entered the bedroom. Law laid on the bed as you went to get the lube and put on the strap on. You gently guided him so he would get on all fours. You could feel his hesitation at the way he moved, your fingers following his spine, you stroked his back in a soothing matter.

“We can stop whenever you want, just say the word.”

“Alright,” Law replied, visibly relaxing. “We can start.”

You poured a generous amount of lube both on your fingers and on his ass. He hissed when the cold gel hit his warm skin. You massaged his ass before tracing his hole with your finger. Gently, you pushed in the digit. Each time Law let out a sharp breath you stopped, waiting for him to give you a go sign before continuing. Inch by inch you buried a finger, you massaged his inner walls and pushed in another one.

The second one went in much smoother when both of the digits were fully buried inside of him you leaned in and covered his skin in open mouthed kisses.

“How does it feel?” you asked, your lips moving against his skin.

“G-Good,” Law choked out. “Go on.”

You smiled and started to scissor your fingers. Now nibbling on his skin you pushed the dildo between his legs,slowly thrusting your hips, you rubbed the plastic cock against his. Moans started to fall from his lips, making you start to drip and want more.

When you both deemed that he was ready, you pulled your hips back and aligned the dildo with his whole. Before you started to push in you poured another generous amount of lube all over the strap on.

As you buried the plastic cock into him you wrapped your arm around his chest and, with his help of course, pulled him up so his back would flush against your chest. You let out a moan when your nipples rubbed against his back, you bit his neck and with one hand you guided his face so he would face you. Now, fully inside of him you claimed his lips as you waited for him to adjust to the size.

You loved the way he moaned into the kiss, it was an exhilarating feeling to see the man being so submissive for you. Your hands went up his chest and you tweaked his nipples, coaxing a rather loud yelp from him. He’s the one to part away, a string of saliva continuing to bind the two of you he gazed into your eyes.

“Fuck me already,” he said, panting. “What are you waiting for, an invitation?”

“Your wish is my command.” you replied with a smirk as you let him go and he fell on his hands.

You started off slow, gently thrusting in and out of him but as his moan got louder your movements sped up. Your gripped his hips as you started to pound into him with more force than before, his back arched as he screamed your name. His body spasming and twitching underneath you. You licked your lips as you watched the dildo disappear into him over and over again. With an idea you adjusted your hips and it seemed to make all the difference.

“Fuck y/n!” Law screamed out, burying his face into the sheets.

“It seems I found your button,” you cooed, leaning in. “Tell me how good it feels.”

A muffled whine left him and he raised his ass, you smirked, that was all the answer you needed. You slid one hand to his front, you wrapped your fingers around his painfully hard cock and started to give him harsh strokes, just the way he liked it. He shouted your name again as his head shot up, his hips now uncontrollably thrusting into your hand. Precum dribbled from the tip and on to your hand, you grazed your teeth against his back as you penetrated him over and over again.

“I’m going to cum-!” Law blurted out.

“Good.” you moaned your own arousal dripping from your thighs. “Cum on my cock, Law.”

That sent him over the edge, you felt Law’s cock throbbing and twitching inside of your hand as his hole clenched around you. Warm sticky substance dropped to your hand and to the sheets. As he came down from his high you continuously placed open mouthed kisses all over his back, moans and pants could be heard echoing inside of the bedroom.

You pulled out and collapsed next to him, Law threw his arm over your waist and pulled you close. He gently kissed your shoulder and you hummed happily.

“You were right,” you breathed out. “That was pretty good.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” you replied with a smile, equally spent out.

Law then climbed on top of you and nestled between your legs, you gave him a puzzled look as he took off the strap on.

“Now it’s your turn.” he said, smirking.

“Aren’t you too tired?”

“I can still use my mouth you know.”

You shuddered at the way he licked his lips as he went down on you. You’ve never been happier that you’ve won a bet in your life.

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #demonetized #fem!reader #one piece imagine #sluttyboration #naughty valentines event #valentines event

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amjustagirl · 4 years

Text

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Wordcount: 2k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm.

Masterlist Here

AO3 Link Here

‘Hello, Miya-san? Yes, please don’t worry, Shino-chan is fine, just that your husband hasn’t come to pick her up?’ the nervous childcare assistant murmurs her apologies as she hangs up, ready to dial Atsumu to chew him out for yet another display of his bloody lack of responsibility. But it’s no use because Atsumu’s number is engaged, and after five minutes, she gives it up as a lost cause and after a moment’s hesitation, dials the other number most used on her phone.

‘Samu – I’m so sorry to trouble you, could you…? Yes – Atsumu forgot to pick her up again. I’m sorry – I’m at work so I can’t just step out… Thanks ‘Samu – I owe you again’.

She sighs, leaning her head against the cubicle wall in her office toilet. Then she squares her shoulders before heading back to her cubicle, preparing to tackle the stack of work on her desk until office hours end.

She picks Shino up from Onigiri Miya later that night, promising treats to her daughter to persuade her to give up her perch from Osamu’s neck.

‘He’s an ass’, he tells her, voice heavy with sympathy, and she lets herself rest her head on his shoulder.

‘Yes, you’ve told me that’, she responds with a tired smile. ‘Maybe I should’ve listened’.

He pats her back, and she departs with Shino in hand.

A storm blows into the city from the sea, so she shutters the windows and locks the doors, but the house still shakes from the blitz of thunder and lightning. She rocks Shino to bed, and sings her to sleep amidst the gale wailing outside their walls.

She can hear the jangle of keys and opens the front door to let Atsumu in. He ignores her baleful glare and shoulders his way in, dripping rainwater all over the floor.

‘Well?’ she demands, hackles rising at his sullen silence. ‘Would you like to explain how you managed to forget to pick up your daughter from childcare today?’

‘It just slipped my mind, alright?!’, he replies, face arranged into a sneer, and with a few strides he’s already halfway to their room, back turned against her. ‘You don’t need to make a big fuss about everything all the time’, he says, his hand on the doorknob.

‘Atsumu!’ she snaps, her fists clenched by her side. ‘Do you know how embarrassing it is for me to keep bothering Osamu to help clean up your messes? Could you dig deep and grow the fuck up so you can act like a decent husband and father for once? I wish I listened to Osamu when he warned me about you, even before we started going out’.

He whirls around and grabs her wrist in a painful grip, a blaze growing in his eyes. ‘All I ever hear from you these days is Osamu this, Osamu that. If goddamned Osamu is so fucking perfect, why didn’t you just marry him when you had the chance? It would’ve been easy enough to pass Shino off as his, aren’t I right?’

‘Maybe I should’ve - then I wouldn’t be in such a state’, she snarls, wrenching her wrist from his grasp. ‘But my fate was sealed the moment I was stupid enough to fall in love with you instead.’

He snorts through his nose, the sound bitter, twisted. ‘Well, the feeling ain’t mutual, darlin’. Who said I ever loved you?’

She reels back from the force of his words, the bruises on her wrist nothing compared to those in her heart. His eyes widen in shock – but he does not take his words back.

The rain turns the apartment freezing cold and she shudders, fighting the urge to shrink into herself, counting the seconds in the strained stillness between them before stepping tentatively towards him to cup his face in her hands.

‘What’s with you, Atsumu?’ she asks, more gently this time. ‘This isn’t like you.’

Her words break his silence, and he sinks onto the couch with a groan, dropping his head in his hands. ‘I’ve been offered a chance to play in Italy for a year, and MSBY’s agreed to let me go for a season. I just haven’t told you yet’, he finally says, shoulders hunched.

‘Are you going to accept it?’ She manages to ask, a lump of ice lodging itself at the back of her throat, choking the airflow to her lungs.

He nods mutely, and a storm erupts in her heart.

‘Gods, Atsumu. Does it mean nothing to you that you have a wife and child now? Couldn’t you have talked to me first before making such a move? You know I can’t just up and leave Japan with my job and Shino. Are you going to just get up and leave? What’s going to happen to us?’

‘I’m just tired of all of this, ok?’ He shouts, jumping to his feet, his tone sharp enough to pierce right through her heart. ‘We got married and had a kid so fuckin’ young, and there’s so much out there that I could be chasing that I wonder sometimes if all of this is a mistake’.

‘You asked me to jump off a cliff. This is what you wanted, Atsumu, don’t you dare pin this on me!’ she screams back, not even bothering to staunch the bleeding from her multitude of wounds.

He throws his head back and laughs, the sound drenched with bitterness and contempt.

‘Osamu fuckin’ talked me into it – do you think I actually wanted all of this?’ he says, with a callousness she always knew he was capable of but never experienced first-hand. ‘I wish I'd never listened to him, I should’ve just stayed away. Then all of my problems – all of this - would’ve never existed.’

His words finally strike the breath from her lungs, and she chokes, chilled to the bone, unable to speak as she watches him grab his bag and storm out of the house again.

‘He’s not picking up my calls either’, Osamu tells her, when she drops by his store a day later. ‘I could hunt him down for you and beat some sense into his thick head’.

‘Don’t bother’, she says, shaking her head. ‘He’ll resent me even more if you take my side again’.

‘What are you going to do then?’ Osamu asks, the steam from freshly cooked rice rising between them.

‘Come home’, her mother said when she called to break the news, her words ringing clear even over the cacophony of threats her older brothers make in the background about ‘slicing that bastard’s balls off with a knife’. She'd be lying if she said she weren't tempted by the promise of her family's support - her father had always taught her to run for the bamboo grove if there were ever an earthquake, to trust in the strength of the bamboo’s roots to hold the foundations of the earth in its place. But she’s built a career in the city, a life for her and Shino in a small apartment between buildings that seem to burst through the clouds in the sky, and she’s not sure she can walk away from all that just yet.

‘I don’t know’, she says to Osamu. ‘I guess I’ll figure it out along the way’.

Atsumu evades all of her attempts to talk through matters again, and a month later, he’s packed his bags, ready to get on a flight to Italy. He pauses to kiss Shino goodbye, and slips her two stuffed toys – a fox and a jackal, and she almost smiles at the sentimentality of it. Then he turns to her but does not look her in the eye.

‘It’s ok to forget me as long as you remember that we have a child’, she says softly.

He parts his lips to respond but decides against it, eyes hardening as he drops his set of house keys and his wedding ring on the countertop by the front door and storms off.

She does not cry until Shino is safely tucked into bed, and she finds Atsumu’s old jacket, carelessly thrown in a heap at the back of the closet. She holds it close to her chest, breathing in the memories sewn into its seams, and lets herself finally break.

‘Miya-san, I saw on the news that your husband is playing in Italy now. We’re all so surprised you didn’t go with him?’ Yuna-san asks in a too-loud voice, and she has to suppress a cringe when the rest of the office hyenas swoop in, hungry for a kill.

‘We decided that I should stay in Japan to ensure Shino has some stability in her life’, she answers with a tight smile, the practiced statement she and Atsumu’s manager eventually agreed on spilling easily from her mouth. The ladies slink away, and she sighs in relief.

Atsumu thankfully heeds her words and sends money and gifts to Shino, and even calls their little girl twice weekly, so she still manages to recognise her father - she’s grateful for that.

He only responds to her texts once, when she messages him to let him know that Shino got admitted to the hospital for a high fever, but seemed to be responding well to treatment, and would be discharged the next day. He promised to pay the hospital bill, and said nothing more. She does not allow herself to be crushed by her disappointment and stops texting him after that.

Osamu does his best to step in to fill Atsumu’s shoes in his absence, fetching Shino from childcare and letting her hang around his shop until she’s done with work. He spoils her with far too much affection and food, doling both out interchangeably, and his staff and customers treat the little girl like their mascot.

‘Thank you for all of this’, she says one night, when Osamu insists on walking her and Shino home. ‘I’m sorry for making you clean up Atsumu’s mess.’

‘Don’t thank me. Sometimes I wonder if I should be blamed for stepping in to meddle with ‘Tsumu in the first place’ he responds with a strained laugh.

‘Don’t be’, she responds, pressing a chaste kiss to Osamu’s cheek. ‘Your interference gave me Shino. I could never regret that’.

But Osamu can never fully step into Atsumu’s place - they may look heartbreakingly similar but he is not her husband, a fact she’s painfully reminded of when they drive back to Hyogo to the Miya family home for Obon without Atsumu. She does her duty with her head held high and Shino strapped to her back, placing the offerings by the family graves, releasing lanterns down the lake to guide the Miya ancestral spirits back to the mortal realm, but the matriarch of the family sniffed her disapproval when Atsumu’s mother shakily informs her that he isn’t visiting this year.

‘You’re his wife - what good are you for if you can’t even make your husband come back home’, the old lady snapped.

She bent herself into a low bow to murmur a litany of apologies, shaking her head minutely at Osamu before he even tries to put his foot in his mouth in a misguided attempt to defend her - dear boy that he is, but he does not deserve the burden of his brother’s sins, and she will not let him go to battle for her when she can hold her own - until the old lady stalks off, only vaguely appeased. The smile on her face for the rest of the night is unflinching but she still cries herself to sleep because she hates herself for being so goddamned stupid - it should have occurred to her that chasing Atsumu into the eye of the storm would leave her with nothing more than a ruined home and a broken heart.

But when the morning dawns and the sunrise reflects its colours in her daughter’s eyes, she’s reminded afresh that she's a knife maker’s daughter, and her spine is forged with steel. So she hammers the pieces of her heart back together and does not let herself break again.

The months pass and the pain recedes. It slowly becomes easier to breathe.

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milliedazzledust · 4 years

Text

How you fall in love (Kol Mikaelson imagine)

Request from @jazziwritesthings : Could you write an imagine for Kol, where he wants to ask the reader to marry him?

Words: 2603

A/N: It kinda took a different turn from what I had originally planned, and I definitely had teary eyes writing this. Maybe I’ll do a 2nd part, I dunno yet - Enjoy

The day had stated beautifully. Kol had decided to take Y/N on a date to one of her favorite place; the bayou. He never understood her attraction for that place but had put his judgement aside to make this day perfect. He had been planning this for the last two months, with the help of his siblings. He was excited, ecstatic even just to think about what would be happening, but also a little stressed if he dared to admit it. Mikaelson’s proposal mission, as Elijah had put it, was on.

« Are you sure this is what you want to do today ? » Y/N asked Kol as she slammed the car door. « We could’ve just stayed at the compound and enjoy a lazy afternoon »

They had just reach the border to enter the bayou.

« Love, for the last time, we are hiking »

« You don’t like to hike, Kol »

« But you do »

She smirked.

« So after all this time I’ve spent trying to convince you to come with me you chose today »

« Yes. »

« Why ? »

« What do you mean why ? »

He was trying his best not to look at her. She could read him like an open book and he was sure she didn’t need magic powers to know what he was thinking about.

« You are up to no good, Mr.Mikaelson »

« I don’t know what you are talking about, love »

« Sure you don’t » She rolled her eyes.

He laughed and took her hand in his, dragging her into the woods. It was a short road to a clearing Hayley had mentioned to him. Earlier that day, the woman had come to set a picnic basket for them. Her, Hope and Freya had had fun decorating the place with lights, balloons, flowers and candles. They had outdone themselves, it look like a scene from a fairytale.

Kol was walking a little bit too fast for Y/N’s liking. He seemed animated by an exhilaration she couldn’t understand. Usually, he would let her hike on her own, or with her werewolves friends, but would never come. He had told her on multiples occasions he didn’t like the atmosphere around that place, nor the company of a species he couldn’t stand. She had respected his boundaries and had never asked again, until two days ago when he came with an idea that both confused and surprised her; a hike in the bayou.

« We’re almost there » Kol told her.

« Where is there ? »

« I can’t tell you »

« See, I knew you were hiding something! » She proclaimed.

He laughed, shaking his head. He turned around, a snarky remark on the tip of his lips, when he noticed Y/N had stopped moving. She stood still, her back as straight as a rod. He could almost feel the tension emanating out of her.

« What is it ? » He instantly worried.

« We’re not alone » She whispered.

That’s when he heard footsteps, very close from where they were. The sound of crushing leafs on the ground was loud enough to be discernible by his vampire ears. He glanced at Y/N, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. As soon as he saw a silhouette standing at the edge of the wood, he instinctively pushed Y/N behind him, straightening up in a defensive stance.

« Who’s there ? » He yelled.

The stranger took a couple of steps toward them, revealing an impressive form. There was no doubt this man was very much in shape. Y/N took a double take at the size of his biceps and decided she did not want to piss off this werewolf, whomever he may have been.

« That’s a question I should be asking you » The man answered. « You’re on my territory »

« We’re just hiking! » Y/N quickly responded, hoping to appease the tension forming.

She knew about Kol’s temper, especially when it came to wolves. This could go terribly wrong if she did not diffuse it from the start.

« On whose authorization ? » He continued, his chest puffing with pride.

Kol rolled his eyes.

« Look, mate, this land belongs to the Crescent wolf pack, who happens to be ruled by Hayley Marshall, and you’re not one of them »

The man visibly tightened his jaw, starting to get angry. He seemed to sniff the air for a moment and Y/N glanced at his hands balled into fists.

« A Mikaelson » He spitted, recognizing Kol’s sent.

« And you’re not a werewolf » The vampire stated.

Y/N looked at him, surprised, then back at the man who was smirking. The old vampire, fed up with his attitude, had folded his arms.

« I’m a little more than that » He viciously grinned.

Kol raised an eyebrow then suddenly huffed and throw his hands in the air.

« Of course we had to run into one of Niklaus experiment »

His nonchalant behavior surprised Y/N who did not dare to talk anymore, scared she might say something that would throw off the stranger. Kol seemed to fulfill that task without her help beautifully.

« What experiment ? » She whispered to him.

« He’s a hybrid » He told her.

« A hybrid with a message for your brother »

« Of course … » Kol grumped in annoyance.

With a movement of the hand, he pushed Y/N out of the way, anticipating the hybrid’s attack who launched himself at the vampire. His fist soon connected with Kol’s face, who landed on the ground in a matter of seconds. Bringing a hand to wipe the blood on his jaw, he looked at the molten-red color, before deciding he was definitely infuriated. The characteristics dark veins started to appear on his flawless skin and his sharp fangs stretched out of his teeth.

Y/N watched him lunged at the man at a fast speed, smashing him in the guts then dismantled his shoulder before shoving him on the ground. The hybrid let out a grunt of pain and got back up, putting his joint into place like it was nothing. He looked positively pissed off.

Instead of assaulting the Mikaelson, this time around he decided to go for Y/N. None of the lovers were fast enough to predict the action as Kol watched in utter terror the man’s hand plug inside her chest. There was no hesitation in his move, no doubt in what he was about to do.

« No, don’t! » Kol shouted.

This was his worst nightmare. After everything he had been through, all the centuries of torture, quarrels in his family and betrayals, this couldn’t be the end of the short happiness he had lived since he’d known her. With a wicked smirk, the man tightened his hold on the woman’s heart, ready to rip it out. Kol clenched his jaw, letting his anger consume him, turning into the psychotic manic anyone knew him to be not so long ago.

He grabbed a log of wood, tearing it apart and twisted it in his hand in just a fraction of second, ready to use his newfound weapon. Enraged, he impaled the man, perforating his lungs, making him shout in pain and lose his grip on Y/N. His eyes focused on his prey, with the sole determination of killing him, he took the weapon out, turned the man around in a swift movement, then plugged it back in his chest. Before his opponent even had the chance to react, he sank his fangs in his throat, making him scream in agony. With an animalistic growl he threw his fist inside the hybrid’s ribcage then tore off his heart. The dead man falling at his feet, he looked at the useless organ in his hand, satisfied, before letting it fall on the ground with a thud next to the body.

« Kol … » He heard a voice call behind him.

His back stiffened, realizing she was still here and had seen that part of him, the coldhearted ripper. What was supposed to be the best day of their life had taken a dark turn, reinforcing his convicting that the Mikealson’s were indeed cursed and incapable of happiness.

« Kol! » She called again.

Again, he did not answer. He heard her take a step toward him and turned his bloodied face to look at her.

« Are you alright ? » He whispered.

« Yes » She answered, looking him up and down. « Are you ? »

He pursed his lips.

« Let’s go » He simply said in a cold tone she was sure she didn’t like.

Before she could even answer, he started walking ahead of her, furious. She did her best to keep up with him but the man was taller and stronger. She rolled her eyes at him, annoyed by his behavior. Why was he mad at her after she was almost torn apart by a wolf ?

« Kol, wait up ! » She shouted, almost running to catch up to him.

He huffed but didn’t slow down. Fed up by his attitude she stopped on the track, refusing to take one more step before he explained himself.

« What the hell is wrong with you ?! »

« Nothing! » He yelled.

« Obviously » She answered back with irony.

Angry for a reason she couldn’t understand, he turned back and walked to her.

« Why can’t we just have one day, ONE day, without being chased by Niklaus fucking enemies! »

She folded her arms, raising an eyebrow at his tantrum.

« It that was this is about ? Klaus ? »

« What ? No! Of course not! »

« Kol, you’re not making any sense right now »

He sighed and brushed a hand through his hair in frustration.

« Why are you so mad ? » She asked softly, hoping to appease him a little.

« Because of this! » He vehemently shouted, pointing at the werewolf not far from where they were. « This wasn’t suppose to be a near death experience! »

« Then what was it supposed to be ?! »

« A proposal! »

« … what ? »

He pursed his lips.

« I had everything planned, down to the last detail » He revealed. « I wanted it to be perfect. We were supposed to come here and take a walk through the woods just because you like them so fucking much. There was a picnic ready for us on that hill and the girls put so much effort to decorate it for you »

He went on and on sounding extremely disappointed, not even noticing Y/N was startled by the information he didn’t realize he had let out.

« …and that werewolf wasn’t part of my plan, because who in their right mind would ask someone to marry them in the middle of a bloody fight ? But you know what, maybe Elijah was right, maybe this family is not meant to be happy»

« You were going to propose ? » She whispered, astonished.

He looked back at her, finally realizing what he had just said. Cursing himself, he closed his eyes, not wanting her to see how affected he was by all this.

« I wasn’t supposed to say that » He muttered.

They stared at each other, one of them dumbfounded, the other heartbroken by a fate he thought he family chose for him when they were cursed centuries ago. He wanted to say something, anything, but didn’t know where to start. And before one of them could speak one word, it started to rain. They did not move, still facing one another, still trying to read invisible words, understand imperceptible feelings, as the water started to soak them up. He knew he didn’t need to say anything when he saw a tear roll down her cheek.

« What changed ? » She simply asked, her hair and clothes wet.

« Everything »

« But you love me »

« I do »

« Doesn’t that count for anything ? »

« Not when you’re a Mikaelson »

His heart broke at the sight of her tears.

« Kol, please … »

« There will be others. There’s always others »

« We’ll fight them »

He shook his head.

« Have you seen what I did back there ? »

She didn’t answer, remembering the violence of that man’s death.

« I don’t want you to witness any of that » He confessed, his voice shaking with emotion. « I don’t want you to know that man because that’s not who I am anymore »

« What are you saying ? » She asked in a whisper, almost afraid to know the answer.

« I’m saying there are … things in this life I don’t want to give up, things I wish I could keep with me for the rest of my life, but I can’t »

The realization of what he was implying almost knocked her out. Before this sudden confession, rain used to bring her peace. There was a serenity, a sense of peace with each droplets that she could no longer feel in that moment.

« I’m saying I love you, Y/N » He whispered, his hand gently stroking her cheek. « and I’ll love you until I die, and if there’s life after that, I’ll love you then. »

She slapped his hand away, the tears now running freely on her face.

« You can’t do that, Kol, I won’t allow you to destroy what we have because of some made up curse you think the world has brought upon your family »

He didn’t seem to listen to her and instead took her head between his hands, forcing her to look back at him

« You have to know I did my best to keep you away from this madness » He confessed, his eyes watering. « But this life, this … violence is not what I want for you »

« You don’t get to decide for me »

« Y/N… »

« No! You think I don’t know what this is Kol ! I know that look ! I’ve seen it before ! I know what you’re trying to do and I won’t let you! »

« I have no other choice »

« You’re a coward, Kol Mikaelson! » She yelled, pushing him back with all the force she could muster, making him fall.

She could barely breathe and her body had started to shake. From the cold or the emotions, she didn’t know.

« This » She said, crying out and pointing at Kol and herself. « This is worth fighting for and you know it but you’re taking the easy way out, you’re giving up! »

« I’m giving you a chance to live, Y/N ! » He shouted back, throwing up his hands in frustration. « Can’t you see that ?! »

« All I see is you, breaking my heart »

This time the tears ran down his eyes.

« Why ? » Was all she had the strength to say anymore.

« In our worlds, with our enemies, a bond as strong as what we have will be considered a threat and be used against us, love » He started to explain.

Taking her hands in his, he kissed them before kissing her forehead.

« You are an echo, Y/N, my anchor in a brutal world, with the power to tear down walls I have built so high and deep. So though i need you, want you, love you … I most likely have to walk away »

A sob escaped her mouth, instantly making him regret everything he was saying and doing and he cursed himself a thousand deaths for the pain he was causing.

« I hate you » She murmured.

« No, you don’t. And I hope one day you’ll forgive me »

Suddenly, the wind seemed too cold and standing in the rain, Y/N never felt so vulnerable and powerless. This was selfish and beneath anything he had ever done. The growing pain was already unbearable as she stared back at him. She was sure his last words would play over and over again in her head. She knew she’d never be able to stop loving him, even with a broken heart. Every single part he was stealing of her, he was making it impossible for her to put it back together. She would remain empty without him, an unfinished puzzle with forever missing pieces.

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