#and takes me by surprise in its stark contrast to how little i care about the other kinds of usage

[pencap]

.

[reiding-writing]

hello! i LOVE your cold reader series so very much, would you be open to writing kind of the opposite? where instead of being like winter, reader is autumn incarnate? cozy and sweet with kind words for everyone, quiet and bookish but not in a standoffish way… thank you in advance! i just adore all of your writing 🫶✨

AUTUMN BREEZE — SPENCER REID!

your coworker’s would describe you like an autumn breeze, calm, cool, and comforting.

spencer reid x fem!reader | 1.0k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — meet cold!reader’s… autumnal sister? idk i really love this premise it’s so cute

You step into the bullpen, a bundle of warmth in knitwear and wide-leg slacks, a soft rustling that reminds you of leaves skittering across a pavement in autumn. It's a sound you've always loved—crisp, comforting, familiar.

You carry it with you, like the golden hues of October, brushing against everyone in the office without even trying.

There’s an energy here that contrasts sharply with your calm: the hurried clicks of keyboards, the rustle of files, the undercurrent of murmured conversations.

But you bring something softer, something like the warm light that filters through the trees on a crisp morning.

Your mug of tea—sweetened with a touch of honey, as always—rests in your hands. The scent drifts upward, a subtle comfort that follows the rhythm of your movements. When you pass Spencer’s desk, he looks up from a thick stack of case files. His face is pale from long hours, his tie slightly askew. You can’t help but smile.

“Hey, Spencer,” you call softly, your voice low and warm, the sound steeped in honeyed affection.

He startles slightly, his grip faltering on the stack of files. “Oh, hey,” he stammers, adjusting quickly. “Good morning,”

“Morning,” You back track a few steps and turn toward him, your hand instinctively resting on his elbow to steady him. The wool of his blazer is coarse beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the softness of your sweater. “Let me help?”

“Oh, uh, no—” Spencer starts to protest, but you’re already taking half the stack, leaving him blinking in surprise.

“What would you do without me, hm?” you tease gently, your smile widening as you step toward his desk, files tucked safely under your arm.

From behind, you hear Morgan’s voice break through the bullpen chatter, a teasing lilt in his tone. “Careful, Reid. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,”

You roll your eyes but don’t miss the faint flush that creeps up Spencer’s neck. You’re used to Morgan’s ribbing, just as you’re used to Spencer’s shy reactions to it. “He’d probably drop these all over the floor if I weren’t here,” you say over your shoulder, earning a laugh from Emily and JJ.

Spencer’s face flushes deeper, but his lips twitch with the beginnings of a smile. “I, uh, probably would,” he admits, his voice quiet.

You take a moment to dump your half of the pile onto your desk before retreating back to him, and you take a moment to brush an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. He glances down at your hand, his expression unreadable, but you don’t notice.

Your touch is always gentle, always brief—a steadying hand on a shoulder, a playful nudge, the faintest of brushes against his wrist. It’s second nature to you, an extension of the warmth you try to bring into the world.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment too long.

“You’re welcome,” you say simply, your expression softer than any silk pillow Spencer could imagine laying upon. “Now, let me guess—this is all reading material for the case?”

Spencer nods, launching into an explanation about geographical profiling and its application to their latest unsub. You listen intently, leaning against the edge of his desk, your arms crossed loosely.

The bullpen noise fades to a dull hum in the background as his voice fills the space between you. It’s one of your favorite things about Spencer—how his passion lights up the room, even in the smallest ways.

The comfortable silence that follows his explanation feels important—the kind of stillness that carries the faintest echo of sound, a reminder of something fleeting and beautiful. You let it settle, neither of you rushing to fill the space.

“You’re always so calm,” Spencer says suddenly, his voice breaking the silence but not the tranquility. His gaze is thoughtful, as though he’s been turning the words over in his mind before saying them out loud. “Even when things are hectic,”

You tilt your head, studying him for a moment before replying. “I think it’s because I try to see the good in things. In people. It helps me feel grounded.”

Spencer’s lips curve into a small, genuine smile. “It suits you,”

Before you can respond, Morgan’s voice cuts through the moment again. “Reid, you planning to finish signing those reports or just whisper sweet nothings into her ear all day?”

The bullpen erupts in laughter, and Spencer immediately ducks his head, muttering something unintelligible. You laugh softly, a sound that seems to relax him just a little.

“Don’t worry, Spencer,” you say, your voice light but sincere. “I’ll defend your honour, promise,”

“Seriously?” Derek teases from across the room, leaning back in his chair. There’s a grin tugging at his lips, but it’s warm, harmless. “Do you ever stop radiating comfort?”

“Can’t help it,” you say with a shrug, meeting his teasing tone with an easy smile. “Someone’s gotta balance out all the brooding around here.” You glance meaningfully at Hotch’s office, and Derek chuckles.

Spencer’s lips twitch, but he hides his smile behind the stack of papers he’s pretending to read.

[caitified]

please please please something with jealous kate and famous reader i was waiting for the day you would write for herrrrrrrrr ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

jealously

kate martin x reader

thank you for all the support everyone, i couldn't decide what career to give reader so its kind of ominous

kate had always known what she was getting into when she started dating you. as a star guard for iowa’s basketball team, she was used to being in the limelight. but nothing could have prepared her for the level of attention you received. you were everywhere. your face was plastered on billboards, your followers adored you, and it felt like you couldn’t go anywhere without people wanting to take a picture or ask for an autograph.

she loved you deeply. there was no doubt about that. but sometimes, that fame, the constant attention you received, weighed on her. it wasn’t that kate didn’t trust you—she knew your heart belonged to her. it was more the way people seemed to ignore the fact that you were in a relationship, treating you like you were single, as if she wasn’t right there by your side.

tonight was one of those nights. you had been invited to a high-profile event, a glamorous affair where the rich and famous mingled. kate had accompanied you, dressed sharp in a sleek suit, trying to play it cool. she loved being with you, supporting you, but as the evening wore on, her patience started to wear thin.

everywhere you went, people swarmed you. photographers, fans, influencers—everyone wanted a piece of your time. you were polite, always gracious, and tried your best to introduce kate to the people you talked to, but it felt like she was constantly being overshadowed. and then there were the guys—charming, smooth-talking guys who couldn’t seem to keep their eyes off you, even though everyone knew you had a girlfriend.

as the evening continued, kate found herself standing off to the side, watching as you laughed and chatted with a group of people, completely unaware of the growing tension inside her.

she was usually good at hiding her feelings, but tonight, the jealousy bubbled up, sharp and hot. when one of the men in the group casually placed his hand on your arm, leaning in a little too close as he spoke, something snapped in kate.

she crossed the room in quick strides, her jaw clenched. “hey,” she said, sliding her arm around your waist a little more possessively than usual. “having fun?”

you turned, surprised but smiling when you saw her. “hey, babe! yeah, we were just talking about—”

but kate wasn’t interested in small talk right now. her eyes flicked toward the man who had been all too friendly, and then back to you. “mind if i steal you for a minute?”

you noticed the edge in her voice, and a wave of guilt washed over you. you’d been so caught up in the event, you hadn’t realized how kate must have been feeling. “of course,” you said quickly, excusing yourself from the group.

kate didn’t say a word as she led you outside, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heated atmosphere inside.

“kate, what’s wrong?” you asked softly, taking her hand once you were alone. “you’ve been acting a little off all night.”

kate sighed, running a hand through her hair, clearly frustrated but trying to keep her cool. “i know this is your world,” she began, her voice tight, “and i love that you’re successful, but… sometimes it feels like i’m invisible when i’m with you. like no one even cares that you’re taken. guys hit on you like i’m not even there.”

you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around her waist and looking up into her eyes. “kate, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you feel that way,” you said softly. “i only have eyes for you. you know that, right?”

kate’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but she still looked conflicted. “i know. i trust you. i just… i guess i get jealous sometimes. it’s hard seeing everyone else fawn over you like they don’t know you’re with me.”

you cupped her face gently, brushing your thumb over her cheek. “kate, you have nothing to be jealous about. i’m crazy about you. i love you, not the attention or the cameras or any of that. it’s you i want to come home to at the end of the day.”

kate’s eyes softened as she looked into yours. “i love you too,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “it’s just hard when it feels like i’m competing with the whole world for your attention.”

“you’re not,” you promised, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. “you’re the only one who matters to me. and i’ll do a better job of making sure everyone knows it.”

kate smiled against your lips, the tension finally easing out of her body. “good,” she whispered. “because i don’t want to share you with anyone.”

you laughed softly, pulling her into a tighter embrace. “you won’t have to.”

thanks for reading! keep your requests coming, very appreciated

[aealzx]

Working on Raph’s leg with Don was a fascination that left Leon grinning constantly behind his surgical mask. He’d seen so many videos, but those didn’t compare to the real thing. And with Don there almost all of the stress of the procedure was gone. Pushing back the muscle, clamping it in place, using saline to clean the wound and critically inspect it for residual debris. All the while Don was calmly talking him through the steps, letting Leon learn at the same time. It took hours to get the injury clean, stabilized, packed with antibiotics, and wrapped up, but Leon hardly noticed. Even the enthusiastic chatter beyond the curtain couldn’t distract him from Don’s directions.

“Aaaand we’re done,” Don’s concluding comment came as soon as Leon secured the final bandage wrapping in place. It was such a stark contrast from before to have the clean, beige colored bindings around Raph’s now straight leg, but Leon was mostly feeling like they hadn’t spent nearly enough time to fix that mess.

“Wait- really?” Leon asked, gaze snapping up to look at Don.

Don could only chuckle, having been incredibly impressed by Leon’s single minded focus the entire time. He was hardly surprised at the question now. “Yes- But! Let’s clean up everything else before we pull the curtain down. Okay?” he confirmed, reaching out a hand to block Leon from snatching the curtain excitedly, then gesturing to the bloodied mess of tools around them.

“O’oh… Right,” Leon laughed weakly, the mess fully registering in his mind now as he looked around. It could have been a lot worse, but it would probably still be alarming for others to see. At least it didn’t take too long to clean up the area. The tools and other bloodied items were placed in a bin to take back to the sinks to be washed and sterilized. Then the areas that couldn’t be moved easily were wiped down with antiseptic soaked cloths, and their surgical coverings taken off. Only then did Don give Leon the go ahead to pull the curtain back.

Beaming with an excited smile, Leon poked his head around to look at the others. “Hey Raphie,” he beckoned, noting how April was dozing like a cat curled up around Raph’s head as he and Raphael were a little more quietly watching movies on a tablet Leo had fetched for them.

“Yeah?” Raph asked immediately, shifting his gaze over to Leon. He was exhausted, it was easy to tell. But Leon was expecting that considering none of them had really had proper sleep in the past day and more.

Flinging the curtain aside with a dramatic flair, keeping it held out of the way, Leon beamed proudly. “All done!” he chimed.

Raph took a moment to fully register what Leon was showing him, but then twitched into a half sit up with a small gasp. “Ohmigosh, Raph’s okay!” Raph hushed, sitting up fully and awkwardly jerking his still numb leg towards himself. “I hardly noticed. That’s amazing Leo!”

The movement roused April fully out of her dose, and she quickly oriented herself with a glance around before focusing on the bandages as well. “Woah! Heeeyy lookit that big guy!” April added to the cheers, wrapping her arms around Raph’s bicep and shaking him a little.

“Heheee,” Leon chuckled, rubbing his nose and basking in the praise. “Just be careful still. You still shouldn’t walk on it, so we’ll have to find some crutches for you. How are you feeling?”

“...Mostly just hungry now,” Raph admitted, giving a sheepish smile. His leg didn’t hurt, he couldn’t even feel it. And the medicine and IV fluids helped the fever and rest of his aches. Now he just needed to fill his empty stomach. And probably get some sleep. “And sleepy,” he added, ending up causing himself to yawn after voicing the feeling.

“That’s good. We’ll see about getting you to a bed, and get some food for you,” Leon chuckled, ignoring his own stomach protesting its gaping emptiness.

“Allow me to be of assistance with that.”

The new voice caused the three newest visitors to whip their heads towards the entrance of the infirmary where Leatherhead and Mikey were entering with trays full of food in various dishes. Leatherhead had been the one to speak, and definitely caught the teens’ attention.

“WOAH!” April blurted.

“Ohmigosh you’re STILL SO COOL!” Leon gushed, being kept in place only by politeness and his irritated knee. He remembered Leatherhead from when he first got there, but he hadn’t been able to appropriately address him then.

“Ohhhhh…. You’re bigger than Raph is,” Raph noted, a coo very similar to Lil Mikey’s leaving his mouth as his eyes also shined with awe.

Leatherhead could only chuckle in mildly confused embarrassment, not used to people being drawn to him favorably in any manner. Normally people were either scared of him, or aggressive towards him. It was a lovely change, even if he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

“Sounds like we have perfect timing. Who’s ready for… well I guess it’s breakfast now, huh?” Mikey chimed in, laughing at the kids’ antics towards their friend. They must not be used to seeing a crocodile mutant. “I was starting to get worried all my work was gonna go to waste. I had to warm it back up,” Mikey chuckled, pausing at an unmarked distance away from the surgery area. He’d been scolded too many times by Don for bringing food where surgery was done.

“You wanna get the kid this time, Leatherhead? I can take the food,” Raphael offered, getting to his feet to take the tray. He could easily lift Raph, but he still understood it would probably be more comfortable for him if someone the same size or bigger than him picked him up.

“It would be my pleasure,” Leatherhead agreed, letting Raphael take the tray before approaching the others and kneeling in front of them. “My apologies for not introducing myself sooner. Normally I assist Donatello with surgery, but as the role was already sufficiently fulfilled I didn’t want to crowd. My name is Leatherhead. Am I correct in assuming you two are also known as Raphael and Leonardo?”

“Pff- yeah, but, Leo is fine,” Leon huffed with a smile, mildly uncomfortable with the use of his full name. “Or Nardo as Donnie likes to say. Leon. Face man. Anything but my full name. I feel like I’m in trouble.”

The response ended up earning a snicker from Raphael, giving Leo a nudge as he brought up the rear with another tray of food. “There’s a welcome change,” he teased, earning a slight glare from Leo.

“Wait- did I hear that right? Face man?” Mikey asked, excitement bubbling under the surface.

“Well yeah. Who else would you put in the front but the one with the best looks,” Leon confirmed, framing his face with his hands and raising his chin with a dashing smile.

The flaunting earned snickers from April, and a fond smile from Raph. But Raphael let out a loud honk laugh as Leo’s expression scrunched in disoriented confusion. “Oh my gosh, it’s like Leo and I got spliced!” Mikey laughed, beaming from ear to ear. “I like this Leo. I like him a lot.”

As the others messed around a little, Leatherhead looked back to April to finish introductions before he moved Raph. “May I ask your name, little miss?”

Giving a chuckle at how polite Leatherhead was, April nodded, reaching her hand out for a handshake. “Sure. April O’Neil. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Leatherhead.”

The response was mildly surprising, and Leatherhead chuckled as he gently took her hand. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss O’Neil.”

“You’re remarkably well adjusted to… all of this,” Leo admitted, rolling his head at everything since his hands were full.

“Well yeah, it’s pretty much normal for me,” April answered. “I’ve known these guys since I was eight, we grew up together. And things just kept getting crazier and crazier as we got older. Dimension hopping is probably up there with finding out we had a whole hidden city under New York. It’s just another place to go.” She gave a shrug, scooting out of the way as Leatherhead scooped Raph up after getting permission to do so from him while she had been talking to Leo.

“Oh… I see,” Leo blinked, having so many answers to unasked questions in his head given. That explained a lot about all of their behavior. “Do they… walk around on the surface then? Among people?”

“Uhhh no… Not really. We still stick to non populated areas just in case. But if we do get caught we just pretend we’re going to a science convention and they’re all dressed up in cosplay,” April explained, trying to converse with Leo but inevitably getting distracted again. “Hang on, I gotta get pics of this too,” she excused, digging her phone out of her dress pocket and scooting off the table.

Unlike the last time he’d been picked up Raph had no fear of squishing the one carrying him, and therefore was much less tense. Leatherhead had scooped him up under his knees and back, and Raph could only tuck his hands close to his chest as a big smile squished his cheeks. It was a foreign feeling, but it was actually kind of nice. Just being slung around so gently. Moving somewhere without having to go there himself. It was bringing back faint memories of Splinter carrying him to bed a very long time ago, and he felt he could understand now why his little brothers loved to climb on him so much.

“Gosh, picked up twice in one day. You’re gonna get spoiled here Raph,” Leon laughed, squeezing in next to Raph to beam a smile at the camera as April took a picture of them. Looking down at the short she got, April had to coo a little at the adorable smile and tiny wave Raph had given her. He really was enjoying himself. “You can put him with Mikey,” Leon directed, guiding Leatherhead over to where Lil Mikey was drooling on the pillow.

____________________

Previous Next

____________________

I rushed a lil on the last bits of the pic so I could get it up today X'D So excuse if there are missing details |D

This was my first time drawing a crocodile face, and Leatherhead ended up looking like a nice grandpa to me X'DD oh well, I wanted him to look softer.

[kimosims]

In the final week of the von Badens' stay in Brindleton Bay—after much insistence from young Heinrich—he received his father’s permission to visit the Darlington's residency and surprise his friend Violet. Their friendship had blossomed over shared letters and her occasional visits to the Griffith estate, but soon it would exist solely through the careful script of pen and paper; Heinrich was returning to Windenburg now that his father’s business in Brindleton Bay had been settled.

It was a quiet winter’s day, calm after a long spell of stormy weather, when Violet and Heinrich strolled through the frost-laden gardens of the property. A gentle hush lay over the world, and the air seemed to hold a promise of renewal beneath its blanket of white. As they walked, Violet confessed her love for winter—the stillness, the pale landscape, and the way it seemed to hold the potential for new beginnings, even when everything appeared so lifeless. Heinrich looked at her with a thoughtful expression and asked, “Do you believe in promises?”

The question was simple, but Violet felt it carried a hidden weight. She barely hesitated before replying, "Yes. I take promises very seriously. They're not a trivial matter to me."

He paused, searching her face, before venturing, “Then... would you promise, with me, that our bond won’t fade? That it won’t weaken, even when I’m gone?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice a delicate whisper against the winter air. Her heart hammered against her ribs, suddenly faster, and she feared he might hear it.

Instead of answering right away, Heinrich took her hand, guiding her to a spot where they both stood amidst the snow. Reaching into his coat, he carefully pulled out a single rose, the deep crimson of its petals a stark contrast against the pale world around them. Violet stood frozen, her gaze flitting from the rose to Heinrich, uncertainty mingling with a rush of excitement. Was she misreading this? Was he truly…?

Heinrich took a steadying breath, his expression solemn yet tinged with youthful shyness as he held her gaze. “I like you, Violet,” he said quietly. “When I came here, I expected an unpleasant trip—one that would be strange and uncomfortable. I’m not used to leaving my world behind, nor am I used to getting to know people in an easy way. But you… you’ve made everything different.”

He looked down for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before continuing. “I’ve met plenty of people society calls ‘extraordinary,’ but for the first time, I’ve felt that about someone myself. You showed me that sometimes being extraordinary isn’t about grand talents or achievements—it can be about playing the violin with devotion, or being so eager to learn a stranger’s language just to make him feel more at home. It’s about not being afraid to be a little unconventional.”

She looked at him, her eyes bright, and for a moment, the color of the world seemed to flood back into her vision, filling her senses. Is this what it meant to be seen, to be truly noticed? She felt each nerve alight, alive with the understanding of how easy it might be to become addicted to this feeling.

Heinrich extended his hand, his voice tender. “Do you understand what I’m saying, or… am I getting carried away?”

Violet blinked, her mouth lifting in a soft smile. “It seems I’m at a loss for words. That’s not a small feat, let me tell you that.”

A light chuckle escaped him, and he dared to ask, “So… may I take that as a yes?”

She nodded, barely able to contain her smile. “Yes, you may.”

He grinned, a flicker of triumph warming his cheeks, and then his expression softened. “I know we’re young, but… I’ll return, Violet. I’ll come back to ask you this again.”

She looked at him, her voice gentle with only the slightest tremor, “You won’t change your mind, then?”

Without hesitation, he replied, “Not in a thousand winters.” The conviction in his voice made her heart skip, and she couldn’t suppress a quiet laugh.

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about everything and nothing, sharing fragments of their worlds in both their languages. Their hands found each other’s from time to time, their connection undeterred by the strictures of propriety, sheltered by their youth from the weight of society’s gaze. They both sensed, without saying it, that things would be different when they met again; that the playful freedom of their childhood might give way to something more restrained, something grown.

When Otto arrived to collect Heinrich, Violet thought she had steeled herself well enough to keep her feelings hidden. But Heinrich saw the sadness lingering on her face and, in a voice filled with gentle assurance, reminded her, “We made a promise, remember? I’ll make sure you’re not left without a correspondent to practice your Windenburgian with.”

Forcing a smile, she nodded, their shared promise lingering between them, like the final note of a song that had yet to end. They said their goodbyes with the bittersweet melancholy of youth, a silent understanding that they’d carry this day with them through whatever years lay ahead.

[jesuiscalmedammit]

Blackmail – (14) This is the end || [Alejandro Gillick x reader x Matt Graver]

Previously: chapter 13

Note: 2 years. It's been almost 2 years since the last update. I'm terrible. But anyway, here's the final chapter.

It took a few months, but eventually you managed to loosen up in Alejandro’s presence. The awkward feeling slowly melted away and happiness gradually took its place, bringing back the feelings you had forgotten about in the past year or so. The warmth he radiated when he was around you was in stark contrast with his cold, calculated personality when he was working. You were drawn to him, every cell in your body wanted to be near him while he was at home and a delicate smile crept on your lips whenever you laid your eyes on him.

He had been gone for a week and you were missing him by now. The days like this, when you knew he was about to finally come home, were always filled with joy and anticipation. You just wanted to hug him again to know he was alive and well. Sure, there could be small wounds or bruises, but those were nothing you couldn't handle.

You were planning to cook dinner for him—his favorite, no less—along with a dessert you had learned from a friend you made in Bogotá not long ago. When he sent a message from the airport that he would be home in two hours because he had to take care of something first, you began to cook then quickly did your hair and make-up before picking a dress you thought he would like to see on you.

This was the day when you knew you were ready to make a move on him. Until now you had been sleeping in separate bedrooms, but tonight you wanted to change this. It was time to let things go back to the way they had been before he left you.

The front door opened shortly before everything was ready in the kitchen, so you didn’t have the opportunity to go and meet him there. Instead you waited for him to go to you, and turned away from the food for a second to give him a kiss when he stopped next to you and put a hand on the small of your back. He looked a little confused at first, probably not understanding why you suddenly changed your mind, but then he flashed a warm smile at you then headed to the living room.

“It smells great,” he said, referring to the food. “Thank you for taking the time to cook for me. I’m starving.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “I knew you would be so focused on work that you forget to eat all day,” you told him almost scoldingly.

Alejandro shook his head before turning his attention to his phone. You didn’t mind the silence, at least you could pay full attention to the food in front of you. Within a few minutes you could put the plates on the table while he poured you both some wine. Everything went so smoothly without exchanging words that you wondered how you hadn’t noticed things were back to normal before.

To your surprise, he began to tell you about his latest job, going into just enough details to feed your curiosity without saying too much. He wanted to keep you away from that part of his life now that you successfully left it behind. You were honestly grateful for that. Sure, you had gotten used to the cruelty on Matt’s team, but it didn’t mean you agreed with it.

By the time you served the dessert, the two of you got lost in a pleasant conversation. He had plans; plans to take you away for a long weekend somewhere nice, to take you to a restaurant in a neighboring town he had just heard of, and to stay home and watch your favorite movies with you. These were things you had done when you were together as a real couple, so you guessed it was his way of returning things to the old normal.

Once you finished, you quickly put the empty plates into the dishwasher then returned to Alejandro with a seductive smile on your lips, your hand already extended to him. He stood up and took your hand without a question, silently watching you before leaning down to kiss you, his movements surprisingly hesitant. Maybe he wasn't sure if he decoded your signals correctly, after all you'd been keeping your distance since you arrived, but you were quick to take the lead and deepen the kiss that felt oh-so-good after all this time.

“I missed this. I missed you,” he corrected himself with a smile. You were by now grinning from ear to ear, your chin resting on his shoulder as you pressed your body as close to his as possible. “Does this mean things will be back to normal?”

“Normal as in how they used to be before you had to leave?” Alejandro hummed in agreement and you placed a soft kiss on the base of his neck. “I think so. I'm sorry it took me this long,” you said quietly.

To your surprise, he let out a short laugh at this then leaned back to grab your chin and make you look at him. “You don't have to apologize. You were with someone else before I returned, I would have found it alarming if you could jump back into this relationship without a problem.”

The always thoughtful and understanding man you loved so much. It was nice to know he was still there for you despite what you had done with his good friend. You were afraid in the beginning that he would be mad at you for being with Matt, believing you both betrayed his trust, but that wasn't the case. He understood that there had always been some sort of weird, twisted connection between the two of you, and it was only a matter of time before something like this happened.

********

It was three in the morning when you woke up from a dream that wasn't really a nightmare, but wasn't a pleasant one either. Your arms were wrapped around Alejandro's body with your head resting on his shoulder, and you watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed in his sleep. After all those months you dreamed about the day you had arrived, more specifically the moment you found an unfamiliar phone in your suitcase with a note from Matt.

Maybe you remembered because Alejandro brought him up after dinner, but now you couldn't really get past your rising curiosity. You had never checked that phone. You never turned it on to see what was on it, to see if there were any messages left for you. As the minutes slowly passed, you couldn't stop thinking about it. All you had to do was quietly leaving this bedroom and heading to your own, opening the suitcase and turning on the damn thing. It wasn't that hard.

After carefully placing a kiss on his collarbone, you slowly let go of him and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for a few moments to see if he woke up. But there was nothing, he was sleeping soundly without noticing your absence. Gulping, you walked into your room and took the phone from the bottom of the closet. You turned it on and it asked for the SIM card’s PIN code. How could you possibly know that? You checked the note it came with, but there was nothing.

Then you tried the year you were born in, a long shot, you knew, but to your biggest surprise that was it. And soon the notifications began to arrive from a messaging app. Every single message came from the same person.

Matt: Are you in Bogotá? I'm sure he went back there.

Matt: Are you okay?

Matt: Is everything okay there?

Matt: Look, I know it must be weird to be with him again, if you want to talk to someone, I'm here.

Matt: Don't you miss your family and friends?

Matt: You can come back anytime.

Matt: Come back to us.

Matt: Why aren't you reading these? Come on, open the app and read them.

Matt: Answer me, please.

Matt: Steve was shot. He's okay. He said he wished you were here with us.

Matt: I hope you know that we all miss you.

Matt: I called your parents. Some kid had told them you were working in the middle of nowhere on another continent and you wouldn't be able to call them. I assured them you were okay and they seemed relieved. I hope it wasn't a lie and you're really okay.

Matt: I miss you.

Matt: My wife knows, by the way. I told her I slept with someone. We're going to counseling, although I doubt that could help us. All I can think about is you. It's been three months and I'm sitting here like some lovesick puppy. Pathetic.

Matt: [message deleted]

Matt: Is he treating you right?

You let out a groan after the last message. He knew Alejandro, he knew he would always treat you right. Shaking your head, you began to type a reply.

You: Stop writing to me.

Just when you were about to turn off the device, it vibrated in your hand.

Matt: I was beginning to think you would never read these.

You: I just found this phone and wanted to see what you did with it.

Matt: But you read the messages.

You: Out of curiosity.

Matt: You can’t let me go.

You: I only wrote to you to make you stop.

Matt: If that was true, you would’ve stopped after the first message. But you keep replying.

You: Why are you even awake this late?

Matt: I'm on a mission, we had a long night and I can't sleep. I could be asking you the same thing, though.

You: I was looking for something and bumped into this phone.

Matt: In the middle of the night?

You: Try to get some sleep. Take care.

Matt: WAIT!

Matt: I need to know if you're that annoyingly happy couple again.

You: We're getting there.

Matt: Good for him.

“What are you doing?” you suddenly heard Alejandro's voice from the door. He had his arms folded over his chest as he watched you, but his posture wasn't threatening at all. You felt safe, even when he sat down next to you and took the phone from your hand to read the messages. “I never thought he would end up like this. Didn't seem like the type of man who gets this obsessed with someone.”

You drew in a deep breath as you looked at him. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have checked it,” you apologized quietly. But he wasn't mad. Instead he kissed your temple before turning his attention to the device. “Let's just turn it off again, okay?” you suggested.

Shaking his head, Alejandro between to type, so you leaned closer to see what he was writing.

You: We're happy, don't ruin it. Focus on fixing your marriage. - Alejandro

Matt: Guess it means she couldn't keep it from you. You okay?

You: Do you even care?

Matt: I thought we were friends.

You: Goodbye, Matt.

With that he turned off the device and gave it back to you. “Do you want to go back?” he asked you.

You leaned your head on his shoulder and put the phone on the bed behind you. “I have everything I need here, why would I want to go?”

“Maybe because you miss your family.”

You did miss them, that was true, but he was now your family too. Leaving him just didn't feel right, you were feeling the same as you had a year ago. Your heart was filled with this warm and soft feeling that was most probably the kind of love only he could make you feel, and there was an invisible string pulling you back to him every time you left his side.

After inhaling and exhaling, you laced your fingers with his and said, “Matt told them I was okay. He would have told me if something was wrong with them.”

“One day we'll go and meet them, okay? I'll arrange it.” He kissed your head softly, his nose buried in your hair until he waited for your reaction. When you hummed in agreement, he let out a short laugh. “Remember that restaurant we went to before that mission last year?”

“Oh, of course I do. I haven't had anything nearly as good since that,” you told him with a dreamy sigh.

“I have a reservation for tonight. I wanted to surprise you, but I think you could use this information after all of this,” he said, and you could tell he was smiling as he talked. “We’re gonna be okay, won't we?”

You looked up at him, just silently observing him for a while before finally making a move and leaning in to kiss him. He grabbed a fistful of your hair as he kissed you back, his movements becoming more and more impatient before he finally pushed you on the bed. As long as you understood each other without words, things would surely be okay, you knew that.

[fablesuntold]

@musingmemories sent: ❝ you so hungry for vengeance? deliver it. ❞ — From Harley Quinn to Batman ✨

Vengeance. Batman was the embodiment of the word. It was everything he stood for, dishing out deserved punishments where due, and hurting those who swore to make it their personal goal to reign terror on the unsuspecting citizens of Gotham. He was vengeance. Revenge in its finest form.. even if it meant killing when necessary, as much as Bruce loathed to take the life of another. But certain individuals were too far gone to be stopped by a firm telling off and a few fists thrown their way; proven time and time again by Gotham’s very own self declared ‘Clown Prince of Crime’ and his endlessly loyal devotee— otherwise known as Harley Quinn. How long before she realised she meant nothing to The Joker? And just how long could Bruce afford to stop pulling his punches and giving her the benefit of the doubt?

He didn’t want to have to kill her, because unlike with the Joker? Bruce wholeheartedly believed that there was still potential for redemption there. For Harleen Quinzel to find her way back to the light and rid herself of the darkness Joker had instilled within her. But o h, how Bruce’s belief in her began to wane each and every sordid time they met. She made it very difficult to be lenient with her, especially as of late.. that deranged smile of hers having turned even more twisted than ever— unsettlingly wide and malicious. A stark contrast to the dashingly sweet one she used to regard him with from across the table in whatever fancy restaurant they’d reserved for the night.

That’s right. Back before the world turned darker and life looked promising for the newest psychologist on the block, her and Bruce used to be a thing once. A story doomed to remain unfinished— feelings of rejection and misunderstandings sending her right into the wicked, outstretched arms of The Joker who had been lying in wait, ready to manipulate and corrupt the first vulnerable little minion he could get his hands on. What could have been if only Bruce had told her the truth. What could have been if she’d known that there really was nobody else, and that the only reason he kept skipping out on dates or leaving her in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye note, was because he was Batman.

But that was all too little too late now, wasn’t it? Bruce had chosen his path, and she had chosen hers. And they couldn’t have been any more different.

Staring her down now, a foot pressed firmly against her stomach to keep her pinned to the ground after yet another merciless brawl? Bruce still found himself hesitating, unable to deliver the finishing blow. Not even the taunting of his motto was enough to convince him. “..No. Not this way. Killing you won’t change anything.” Sneered down at her through clenched teeth, Bruce met her darkened stare head on, hoping that his own gaze remained distant enough to tune out old feelings that threatened to rise to the surface. “..Let me help you, Harley. You need help. This isn’t you, not really. I know you helped people once. What changed?”

What could have possibly been the driving force that had her so desperate to stray away from her true calling in life and pursue an evil that most would cower away from? “It’s not too late to change. Joker doesn’t care about you.. he’d be more than happy to see you burn.” In fact, it wouldn’t surprise Bruce at all if the menace himself was watching somewhere close by from the shadows, cackling quietly to himself as the scene unfolded before him— just as intended. Harleen Harley deserved better than that. She deserved to be free.

[freedvmrouge]

Central Park

Word Count: 654

Tags & Warnings: POV Steve Rogers, Reunions, Post-Sentinel of Liberty (2022) and Captain America: Cold War (2023), Father-Son Relationship (bc that's how I see Steve & Redacted's relationship), Redacted picks a name for himself after going on a journey of self-discovery, this has trans undertones

Summary: Steve goes on his routine morning run around Central Park when something silver catches his attention: it’s Redacted.

For @steverogersbingo R4 / November Monthly Adoptables

Every single morning, provided that no one drags him away from his apartment, he heads out on a run through Central Park. There’s a certain calmness that it brings, seeing the familiar greenery that sits in stark contrast to the concrete jungle. If he didn’t know better, he could’ve believed that the park existed in its own little pocket dimension.

But no, he’s been in those things—recently, too, thanks to the folks over at the Baxter Building—and Steve is more than happy to watch as someone chokes down four hot dogs in one sitting and another reels in their dog as they chase after a squirrel. 

Steve runs the length of Central Park at least five times before he calls it quits. Sometimes his Avengers Assemble pager goes off and he’s shooting to Avengers mansion in one quick turn. But today, he greets the familiar vendors, children, and neighbors. 

Today, he’s about to find a nice place to picnic and rest when something shifting and silver catches his attention. 

The shine of it feels uncanny and uncomfortably otherworldly, and that’s when he realizes. 

“Redacted?”

Steve tries not to speak too loudly, tries not to attract any attention, but he also knows that Redacted can hear just fine. It’s been a while since Steve’s seen or heard from the guy. He’s been getting worried.

Redacted spills forth from the shadows. This specific part of the park has always been a bit different to the rest of it, the trail hidden away by trees and shrubbery. He always keeps a lookout in this area for any crimes in progress, just in case. But this is no crime. 

This is a reunion.

An easy grin plasters on his face as Redacted becomes more visible. Steve jogs closer, careful not to get too close too fast. 

“Have you been well?” he asks, looking up at Redacted.

“Yes, I have learned a lot in such a short time.” Redacted pauses, shifting his body this way and that. He looks just about the same as he did when he left, reflective silver skin and lines running through his malleable body. “I have also assigned myself a name.”

“That’s great, let’s hear it. I’d love to call you by your name.”

He waits a beat, then another, and the grin on his face never leaves. Steve doesn’t want to push. 

“Carter, I’m Carter.” 

“It’s great to meet you, Carter. I’m Steve, and I’d love to share a few hot dogs with you, if you’re free this morning.”

Carter doesn’t have any discernible human facial features, not anymore. Neither of them know what Carter used to look like and nothing in Bucky’s adopted arsenal as the new Revolution have borne fruit. But even without them, Steve can tell without a shadow of a doubt that Carter’s happy.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to scare anyone. It’s been bright out there.”

“I’m not ashamed of you, Carter,” Steve says in soft tones. “I would love to hear what you’ve been up to lately, where you’ve been. I pack a lot of food away. We’ve got time.”

Carter still hesitates, keeping to the shadows for the most part, but Steve waits patiently. He thinks that even if there’s an Avengers alert, he might ask someone else to take care of it—or ask Carter to come with, if he’s willing. 

“Can you get the food and come back instead? I can wait here.”

“Sure,” Steve answers easily. “You got any preferences for toppings?”

“Surprise me, I’ve never had it before.”

“You’re gonna love it.”

With one last glance and a smile, he turns around and heads for the hot dog vendor a couple of yards away. He goes in the hopes that Carter stays, if only for a little while, and he goes in the hopes that maybe he can introduce Ian to Carter soon. Maybe they can all figure this all out together. 

[galaxyghost4081]

Memento Mori

    Screams. Blood. Light. Death. Those were the last things Cor remembered before opening their eyes into darkness. Yet, it was a familiar darkness, a realm that the young kenku had only been to one other time. They stood up, talons clinking atop a floor of solidified pitch, and turned their head around, looking for something.

    “Hello?” Cor called out. “Are you there?”

    While the kenku spun about, seemingly awaiting some sort of response, a glimmer of light caught their eye. They shifted their gaze downward to notice a golden thread wrapped around their pinky finger, the rest drifting away into the darkness beyond. Immediately, Cor let out a small caw! of glee. A smile swiftly grew on their beaked face, and, jittering and giggling with excitement, they ran toward the direction of the floating thread.

    Their talons rapidly tap, tap, tapped across the floor of nothingness below them. The golden thread danced in the air, guiding the kenku into the unknown, but they didn’t care. Each step took them closer to the one thing they were hoping for - and soon enough, there she was. Cor smiled once again as they approached a tall, shadowy woman. Her long, raven-black hair fell to the floor, seemingly connected to the darkness, and it ruffled across her face to reveal a white porcelain mask concealing her true features; a stark contrast from the rest of her form. The only sliver of color on the woman was a thread of gold wrapped around the pinky finger of an ivory-hued hand - the same thread that Cor had on theirs.

    The woman was unmoving, only shifting her head to stare at the little kenku as they opened their arms and gave her the largest hug they could muster. “I knew you were here somewhere!” Cor beamed. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you! I was in a really, really scary place, but now I’m here! With you!”

    As Cor happily nuzzled themselves into the woman’s form, she reached her hand down to softly pet the kenku’s head. She then gingerly grazed their cheek, cupped their chin, and tilted their head up to look at her, her porcelain face slanted to the side in curiosity. “Do you know why you are here, little one?” Her lips remained still, but her voice, intense and otherworldly, echoed all throughout the empty void.

    “Is it because you wanted to hang out with me?” Cor chirped.

    “No.”

    “No? Is it because you wanted to do something else?”

    “Yes.”

    Cor suddenly bounced with excitement. “Yippie! Is it fun? Is it a surprise? What is it?”

    The woman kneeled down to the small kenku’s height and gently wrapped their hand with her own. Her voice was but a solemn whisper when she spoke. “I am here to take you home.”

    “Home?” Cor’s jitters swiftly died down as they felt something wrap around their finger. They peered downward to notice the golden thread between them and the woman tighten, its gleam growing ever-so brighter. The woman’s touch, as comforting as it typically was, grew chill and barren. Then, it dawned upon them. Cor tightened their grip on the woman’s hand, then drooped their head and looked up at her with pleading eyes. “What if I’m not ready to go home?”

    “I cannot bring you back this time, little one. It is time to go.”

    “But what about my friends? I can’t just leave them so soon! I didn’t even say goodbye!” Cor suddenly cried out, their voice crackling. They quivered, sniffling back tears that threatened to fall. Then, out of the blue, a light tap on their shoulder caught their attention. They turned around, releasing a small gasp when they saw ethereal, ghostly figures of everyone they knew. Friends, family, loved ones - they were silhouettes, faint echoes of their mortal forms, but Cor recognized each and every last one of them. The dark-haired woman stepped back as the phantoms gathered around to embrace the small, tearful kenku. The frozen touch they felt moments ago melted away. Instead, they felt warmth and love as they shared one last moment of life with those who gave them one that was lived to the fullest. Cor hugged back the best they and their little form could, smiling as they allowed the tears to fall. When they eventually let go, they watched as the spirits dissolved into shining, silvery dust, fading away into the void beyond.

    The woman reapproached the little kenku, and they turned around to see her open palm, delicate and welcoming. “Are you ready to go home now, little one?”

    “Yeah,” Cor said, wiping their tears away, “I’m ready.” However, just before they placed their taloned hand atop the woman’s, they hesitated. “Wait. Can I ask you one last thing?”

    “What is it?”

    They looked up at the woman, young, innocent eyes staring straight at her. “Was… Was I a good friend?”

    A moment of silence. Then, the woman took Cor’s hand, and her hold was tender and soothing beyond comparison. “You have always been a good friend, little one,” she said. “And you always will be.” As they both began to walk away, the kenku stayed right by the woman's side, their light disappearing into the darkness.

[minijenn]

Jen Tortures Herself With Every Dreamworks Animated Movie Ever: The Croods

So I have to admit, I really wasn't looking forward to watching The Croods. I've never seen it before, never really heard anything that positive about it before, and all I did remember of it was its actually pretty bad marketing back in the day when it first came out that made it look low brow and kiddish. So how is the movie, actually? Well... it... surprised me. Let's get into it.

The Croods are a family of cave people, led by the stubbornly cautious father Grug. His teenage daughter, Eep, is a stark contrast, as she wants to see the world beyond the cave, despite how dangerous it might be. She gets her chance when she runs into Guy, who introduces the family to new concepts and ideas like fire and shoes and so on. Together, they're racing against the clock to search for a new place to call home.

It's a very simple plot, one that wears its themes of tradition vs. new ideas on its sleeves to an almost annoying extent. It's very... on the nose in a lot of ways, definately skewing toward a younger demographic in just about every way, with that message, with how it delivers that message, and with its humor, which yes, can be pretty low-brow and childish, just as I anticipated it would be.

And yet... there are things about this movie I actually really liked! I started the movie off thinking Grug was just your run of the mill overprotective dad type, but during the third act, I really came to care about him and found him to be such a refreshing take on that trope. Eep is a also a really fun main character, really funny and rebellious, but not in the typical teenage daughter way. Guy is also really fun, smart and clever and his romantic relationship with Eep develops in a really sweet and natural way. As for the rest of the family... they're just ok. They're all kind of just one-note and none of them get nearly as much development as Grug, Eep, and Guy do.

While the humor didn't strike much of a cord with me here, the emotions actually did! Like yes, it is very on the nose with its themes, but dammit if I didn't feel the love this crazy ass family had for each other shining through, especially toward the end. The third act completely captivated me; there's a stark tone shift but by god if it doesn't work so well in this film's favor to turn what was otherwise a largely forgettable story into something actually worth watching. I'd almost say getting to the climax is worth the price of admission here alone.

The animation here is actually pretty impressive! The level of detail they put into the character models, with the dirt caked onto their skin and clothes, really impressed me. Also, the setpieces were also very beautiful, vast and vivid and befitting a prehistoric setting. What kind of took me out of that setting a little was some of the animal designs. They can get... kinda weird, and a little too cartoony for my liking. I get what they were going for, but... I don't think it really works.

So yeah, The Croods was an unexpected, yet mostly pleasant surprise. I mean I can't say I loved it or anything or that I'll go back and watch it over and over again, but at the very least I didn't want to actually die while watching it, which is probably more than I can say for our next entry in this watchthrough. Get your salt ready, folks; the snails are coming....

Overall Rating: 6/10

Verdict: Unexpected MILF Jumpscare

Previous Review (Rise of the Guardians)

Next Review (Turbo)

[twentydaysofdrabbles]

The Concierge Gives A Tasting - Look (Part 22)

The walk back to your room is not long, but it is enough to have Sans dogging your steps like a slavering hound. His red pilot lights for eyes glow bright in the shadows between lights, bobbing and weaving with every step. 

You’re not concerned about showing him where you lay your head. After all, you’re so rarely there. So you aren’t afraid of slipping out your room key from your hidden vambrace, of swiping it past the card reader. Of pushing the door open and admitting yourself into the dim, cool room. 

It’s a fairly standard room, by hotel standards. Though you’re considered the Manager’s right hand, your room is far from ostentatious. Tastefully decorated in classical luxury, but not overly so. A small round table stands near the kitchenette set off to the side, two ornately carved and padded wooden chairs tucked neatly under it.

Next to the kitchenette, a wall with a weapon rack, most of its slots empty, and a dresser with a repair kit on it. A door set at the far wall. A closet just beside it. And behind a wall of curtains, a wall of windows. But of course you never open them.

Your bed is big, the main focus of the bedroom, covered with dark satin sheets and a multitude of pillows. A single padded armchair stands to the side of it.  Impeccably made. Neat. 

Sans is staring at it, looking as if he wants to muss that neatness right away. 

“Patience, Mister Sans,” you say softly, a hint of a tease in your even tone. “We’ve not yet finished our negotiations.”

“then hurry the fuck up,” he growls, prowling up to you.

At least, until he is stopped by your hand on his chest. Just a little pressure and it would cause the hidden blade nestled under your wrist to pop out...but you’re careful not to let that happen. Looking at him from under your lashes, you let a small smile spread over your lips. “Mister Sans.”

The skeleton sneers at you, impatience writ plain on his face. A sneer that turns into a pout when he sees that you’re unmoving. “sweetheart, ya wouldn’t be leavin’ me in the cold, would ya?”

“The cold isn’t exactly what I’d call it, Mister Sans.” Dropping your hand from his chest, you bring it to the lapels of your coat. Shedding it with one smooth movement, shrugging it down your arms. 

All at once, Sans freezes. Then he grins a greedy grin, his tongue flicking out to lick over his teeth. “oh, sweetheart. now we’re talkin’.”

Chuckling lowly, you turn away to drape your coat over a coatrack just beside your weapon rack. “Make yourself comfortable, Mister Sans. I won’t be long.”

“don’t mind if i do, sweets.” His voice is a low purr, just barely audible over his footsteps as he goes to sit in the armchair near the bed. Predictably, he sits with his legs spread, his arms draped along the back of it. As large as he is, he doesn’t fully fill the armchair. A surprising fact, to you. You didn’t realise the armchair was that large. 

Now that he’s lounging in it, his eye lights glued to you, you’re suddenly reminded of a man watching a striptease. A smile quirks the corner of your lip up. If he thinks you’ll perform for him, he’s sorely mistaken. But you’ll not leave him wanting. 

Under your coat is a plain shirt, well tailored, well fitted, moulded to your body in stark contrast to the coat which gives you a sharp silhouette. You can feel Sans’ eyes on you as you reach down to undo the ammunition belt around your waist. 

“how many, sweetheart?” he asks huskily, roving his red eyes all over you. 

You spare him the barest look, taking out the spare magazine without looking. “Four.” The gun is slid out of its holster next, magazine ejected, chambered round removed. Made safe. Placed back in its spot on the rack. “Miss Toriel took two out.”

When you next glance at Sans, he looks as if you had just slipped him the dirtiest pickup line. “shit, four and not a single scratch on ya,” he groans, zeroing in on the red stains around the wrist cuff of your shirt. Slowly dulling crimson amid the pure white fabric. A deep inhale, expanding the skeleton’s broad ribcage, and he growls on the exhale. “ya still smell like blood, damn.”

Ah, the perfume must have dissipated. “Is that an issue, Mister Sans?” you ask politely, unbuttoning the cuff of your shirt so you can roll it up to your elbows. Your vambraces are revealed by this action, close fitting as to be a metal skin around your forearms, stopping at the base of your wrists. It is raised on the tops and undersides of your wrists, the holsters for your spring-loaded knives. 

A hidden latch frees your arms of the metal armour. One by one you set them upon the dresser, to be taken apart and cleaned. Flakes of dried blood litter the wood and the floor where you stand, something that Sans doesn’t miss. 

“not a lotta folk use knives up here,” he idly notes, tongue flicking over his teeth. “whaddya say ya invite me to a demonstration one of these days?”

Goodness, Sans is a bit of a sadist isn’t he? Maybe a bit of a masochist too, by the sounds of it. 

“Oh?” you ask, toeing your shoes off at last. They are nudged back under the dresser, away from where anyone could trip over them. Now clad in just your socks, you lift your pant legs just enough to show the tops of them. They’re not the sexiest articles of clothing you own, not by a longshot, but you don’t miss the way Sans looks at them with blazing want in his eyes as though you had just shown him your underwear. 

Ah yes, that monster thing about socks. Well, you’ll milk that for whatever it’s worth. Lifting a foot so you can reach the last switchblade hidden in your right sock. Gloved hands close around the handle of it, slipping it from the sewn in holster and onto the dresser. As much as you want to dexterously flick the knife this way and that, your hands still ache from the exertion of earlier today.

Though he is briefly distracted, Sans seems to compose himself. He loosens the tie around his neck, unbuttoning the top button to reveal the ivory bones hidden behind. "yeah,” he just purrs, flicking his jacket to the sides and showing off the black suspenders clinging to his shoulders. Ah, he didn’t miss that you liked them.

A perceptive man is a dangerous one. But you’ve always known that about Sans. 

At last fully disarmed, you pad over to where he sits. He watches you keenly, crimson eye lights roving up and down your body hungrily, admiring the swing of your hips, the delicate steps you take, until you’re bracing your hands on the arms of the chair and looming over him, casting him in shadow. 

This close, you can see every flicker of his eye lights, feel every breath he takes. You can see how his eyes lock on the collar of your shirt. Dark ink creeps up your skin from under the white fabric, dark tentacles curling and weaving under the fog. Through your shirt, too, the barest hints of a tattoo can be seen. A collar tapped into the skin around your neck, a visible, artistic weight across your collarbones, your shoulders, closing behind the nape of your neck. 

“nice ink, sweetheart,” he purrs, lifting a finger to press over the top of your chest. “mind letting me see the rest of it?”

Perhaps if he looks closer, he can see the skull wreathed in vines and laurels sitting at the base of your throat. 

But you don’t give him the opportunity. 

“If you secure a second meeting, Mister Sans, then I would be glad to accommodate your request,” you say evenly, though with a smile in your voice. 

Sans growls briefly, “pfft, second meeting.” Then it hits him. He narrows his eyes. “whaddya mean?”

Your lips tip up in a sly smile, your eyes glowing bright with dark desire. “One thing at a time, Mister Sans,” you murmur, your knee coming up to rest on the chair between his thighs. One day, you’ll figure out how he has such thick thighs for being made of bone. Perhaps it works like his belly. 

His eyes flick to your gloves then, still tucked up tight around the base of your palms. “them too?”

“Third meeting, if you’re lucky.” You’re confident he will make it that far. 

The eternal grin on Sans’ face widens and he leaves the matter of your gloves alone, tipping his chin up so he can leer at you. “ya like teasin’, don’t cha sweetheart?” But it doesn’t look like he’s protesting. Of course, he’s much the same, dragging a distal phalanx down the centre of your chest until he hits the waistband of your trousers. 

You don’t say anything in response, figuring the satisfied expression on your face evidence enough. Bracing yourself on one hand, you press the other flat against his sternum. Levering more and more of your weight on him until he is pinned against the chair. 

Like in the elevator, Sans just wheezes slightly with a grin, panting up at you, “fuck...”

And just like in the elevator, you lean close. Close enough that your lips brush against his sharp teeth with every word you speak, “Allow me to take the lead in these negotiations.”

The skeleton monster looks as if Gyftmas had come early. “oh yeah sweetheart, take the wheel.”

Oh, you’re going to have so much fun. 

[dream0fschism]

are your nsfw requests still open? if they are could you do one with könig and medic!reader? the rest is up to you

god i’m such a konig slut

i'm back, my darlings!

PAIRING: König x f!reader

“I’m getting tired of seeing your hooded face, König.”

He never spoke much, a thing not uncommon for men in his field of work. Many preferred the comfortable air that the silence brought, enjoyed how it was such a stark contrast to the sounds of gunfire, explosions, screaming. It made your dingy, makeshift clinic a refreshing stop for most.

But the man in front of you had made trips to your room so frequently you’d figured he must have broken some kind of record. You’d treated gunshot wounds, minor burns, patched up his bloody knuckles countless times… there wasn’t an inch of skin you hadn’t laid your fingers upon. Each time you cared for his cuts or stab wounds, some of which hash-marked atop of old and stubborn scars, it was as if you gathered more intel about his personality otherwise untold.

König was a machine, dangerously dedicated to proving his worth - dangerous for the receiving party, of course - with a willingness to sacrifice as much of his flesh and blood as it takes. If necessary, he would nurse his own injuries, albeit terribly, in favour of granting himself an advantage or winning battles. You recall a few times in which you scolded him for his amateur efforts. “If you cauterise one more wound this terribly I’m going to refuse you of future treatment.”

Of course, he’d remained silent. But you swore you saw the slight crinkle in the skin around his eyes.

And in his dedication you couldn’t help but see a deep insecurity. Sometimes, but only on the rare occasion, he would show up barely alive. He would always be alone, never needing his comrades to waste their energy and strength on carrying him to safety. But you would always worry the most in these situations, when his skin was pale and cold and he still refused to remove his hood. “Anything below here, I can take care of myself,” he’d struggled to grumble out.

If he wasn’t so unbelievably skilled, you’d assume he had a death wish.

“I’m sure you’ve said that before,” he answered, the sudden sound of his accented voice gifting you with slight surprise.

“I suppose I’m running out of things to say,” you chuckle, continuing to swab at the dry blood clinging to the skin of his sternum. “And you’re just about running out of unmarked skin.”

“Mm, my gear does seem to be quite useless,” König nods. “Perhaps fighting naked wouldn’t make much of a difference.”

The harmless joke has heat creeping onto your cheeks, and you’re really baffled by your own brain because of it. As if you hadn’t seen ninety-percent of his body already.

“Perhaps not.”

"You are blushing," he notes. "Yet this isn't your first time you've rubbed at my bare skin."

The hand you had placed against him stilled momentarily as his point only intensified the bubbling heat in your face, swelling a ruby-red shade along each of your cheekbones. You continued your aid, with a strict refusal to allow your gaze anywhere else except for his wound.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," König breaks the short silence that followed.

You laugh dryly as your awkwardness fizzles away a little. "You're all finished."

König brushes a hand over the gauze, inspecting your work. When he says nothing, you stand on your feet and gather the used swabs, kicking your wheeled stool to the side to make your way to the bin.

Before the lid had even closed the trash behind it, you felt the warmth of his towering presence at your back. It startled you all the same, a sharp inhale sucking its way through your parted lips.

"I have to ask.. Do you like seeing what's beneath my gear?" He presses each of his long fingers into your shoulder as his hand cups over it.

"Isn't that question a little inappropriate..."

"If I'm crossing a line, then tell me to stop."

You open your mouth to reply, unsure of what exactly you'll say when the hand at your shoulder slowly begins to move. He's agonizingly slow, careful as he explores over the layer of your white button-up, and you feel utterly insane for being unable to use your words and put an end to it.

Instead, you stare blankly at the off-white wall in front of you and allow his hand to roam.

"Can I tell you something?" He asks, edging his hand to cup below your right breast. The touch causes you to lean into the tower of his body, a sudden tenderness and sensitivity wracking each nerve in your chest.

"I enjoy coming to see you," he continues, prompted by the way you relax against him. "In fact, I refuse to see anyone else when I'm injured."

It makes you cock an eyebrow. "I thought it was strange, just how often you needed medical attention. Were you slacking out there? Hoping to get injured so you could see me?"

König huffs out a dry laugh. "No. But part of me did want to be indebted to you."

Liar.

"Why?"

"Because I needed an excuse to give you exactly what you deserve."

You swallow a dryness in your throat, the hand on your breast gives a generous squeeze as you do so. You almost choke on your own saliva.

"If that's something you want..."

"And what do I deserve?" Though you feel as though you already know the answer, you ask anyway, subsequently causing a heavy pulse at within your heat.

"I'm much better with actions than words."

"They do speak louder, I suppose..."

König takes your response as agreement, the hand at your breast moving to dig desperately beneath one of the spaces between the buttons of your shirt. He finds purchase and, in one swift pull, violently rips open the shirt, each button clicking gently as they bounce against the tiled floor.

You open your mouth to scold him, to tell him that he owes you a new shirt pronto - but König is determined to waste no time as his hands are already tugging the band of your bra down to expose your tits.

"I've wanted to see these for a long time," he breathes, and you hear the tremble in his exhale as he does so. "So perfect."

It dawns on you that you must be an obsession of his, that he may be interested in you significantly more than you are in him. It's the only viable explanation for his reckless behaviour, and yet it still didn't make sense why he would risk his life even more than he already did just to be in your presence.

"I.. hope you realise I have no other shirt to wear," you say, inhaling sharply at the sensation of his hot, calloused fingers brushing circles into the shape of each of your nipples. "How am I going to leave this room?"

König tuts as his hands cage around the mounds of your chest and pulls you flush against him.

"Who said you're going to leave this room?"

The pit in your stomach spirals into a trench, and then König is lifting you, using the leverage of your weight against him, before you can even stutter out a response. His hands guide your body along like you're no heavier than a bag of rice, a true display of his unbeatable strength that sends your mind numb - reminds you of just who you're dealing with.

A ruthless, merciless killing machine.

When König settles onto the examination table, he makes sure that you're positioned perfectly onto the tautness of his giant thighs, and you finally win against the babbling, incoherent flurry of thoughts inside your skull and speak.

"This... Surely we're violating multiple codes of conduct.. protocols... I-"

König allows you to cut yourself off, relishes in the way you hiccup at the sensation of linen on skin as deft hands begin to slide up your skirt.

"We can stop," he suggests, halting the movement of his hands but continuing to brush his fingertips back and forth, so awfully close to the insides of your thighs.

You squeeze your eyes shut and drop your head to rest just below his shoulder. Every single horny neuron inside of your brain fires at you, reminds you of just how neglected you've been sexually, what the countless hours of constant shifts have denied you for so long. And then it dawns on you.

"König, we can't. I'm not on birth control."

The man laughs. Laughs. It's the first time you've ever heard such a soft, genuine sound escape his mouth. You feel a twitch below because of it, the heat between your legs only solidifying the way his display of amusement has made your want for him so much more intense.

"Love, I'm only interested in your pleasure."

And you know better than most that a man who prefers giving rather than receiving is a rare find.

It would be a tragic waste.

When you spread your legs unconsciously, your skirt ruffles up until it can't no more and König reacts accordingly to the invitation your cunt is giving to him. But he spends too much time massaging the sensitive skin between your thighs for your liking, and you lift your hips to encourage something more.

What you get is rather unexpected, and would be a little annoying if you weren't so drunk on your own arousal. König hooks a finger under the material covering your hip bone and jerks his wrist, tearing your panties with ease before moving to finish the job at the other side.

"Please," you murmur, eyes trained on the large hand between your legs. He shushes you, with a gentleness you didn't suspect he had in him.

"Quiet now," he hums out. "Let me show you how grateful I am to you."

You feel your clit screaming for pressure, but König's fingers seem to ignore the cry as he toys with the wetness around your hole. The sensation tickles slightly, until he's pressing his middle and ring fingers inside.

Immediately, your hands fly up to brace at the arm that begins to move, long fingers filling you enough to bring a whimper from you. It feels good, but not perfect, and the man seems to read your mind as he curls his digits to rub at your sensitive, spongy spot.

"Oh, fffuck," you sigh, digging the back of your head into him with more force and following with a series of guttural groans.

"Quiet," he scolds, a slight venom in his tone. "Or I'll have to stop."

"Don't," you almost growl with a buck of your hips.

You almost forget the other hand that rests over your left breast until it starts to knead and pull at the skin, almost miss the sound of König's pants as they ooze with arousal from behind his mask.

With only the sensation of König's palm brushing against it, your clit is desperately swollen. You're willing to look the other way when you feel yourself constricting around the now three fingers pumping in and out of you.

When he speaks, his movements don't falter.

"I'm going to stop, and when I do, I want you to lay on your back on this table. Understand?"

"Yes," you obey. You're pretty much putty in his hands at this point anyway.

And so you splay out on the cold metal of the table - which your white coat does nothing to protect you from - skirt bunched up around your hips, shirt ruined and ripped open and completely exposing your chest and belly.

"Lift your legs," he commands, hand ready to hold them in place as you do as you're told.

At the end of the table he stands, lanky arms reaching over to grasp each of your ankles as he slides you along the metal until the backs of your thighs butt against his own.

You feel uncomfortably aware of how exposed you are as he spreads your legs and examines the sight before him. His eyes are cold, fierce - akin to the eyes of a hunter eyeing its prey. Your body feels as cold as the surface beneath it underneath his stare.

König releases your ankles to let your heels rest at his shoulders as his hands begin a slow trail down and along your trembling thighs. Each of his thumbs hook around your corresponding hip bones, calloused fingers cupping in place at your lower back.

His baby blues eyes are considerably darkened to a shade of grey as they flick up to meet your own, and moments later the hem of his hood is brushing gently over your swollen slit.

You've never seen his face, but you've never wanted to more than you do now. His hold on you is intoxicating in a way that staggers your cognition, robs your brain of any chance of comprehension as you can only watch him lean further forward and dip until you can feel the heat of his breath against your cunt. His tongue is hot, completely saturated in his own saliva as it makes contact with your puffy clit. It snatches the breath from your lungs with violence, and when it starts to massage on and around the nerve you can only mewl and whine meekly.

König continues his watch on you the entire time, evidently enjoying the pained look that the struggle to keep quiet brings to your face.

You lift your hips into the onslaught of his mouth, and his grip around them becomes vice-like as he forces you into place and sucks harshly at your nub. This only serves to fuel your physical struggle under his pleasure more, and he grunts at your display of disobedience, lifting you higher until only your upper back and head touch the table.

The new position makes any movement too difficult for you, forces you to submit against him as he groans into the taste of your pussy. "König, I-God, I can't--" You flail your arms until they slump defeatedly back down to your sides, nails scratching at the frigid surface below you.

He manoeuvres his grip for comfort, lifting you further, until his forearms are encircling and squeezing around your waist and your calves hang over each of his shoulders.

"König, please, fuck--"

The man hums into your heat, all but abusing your clit with the vibration that follows through the sound. You're forced to slap one hand over your mouth to muffle the repetition of cries falling from it. König's lucky, his hood seems to dull his grumbles of pure satisfaction that reverberate against you. But you still hear every bit of them.

Your body spasms when you come undone against König's relentless mouth, legs jittering with a force that wobbles your entire body against his own. His hold on you helps stabilise you through the orgasm, but your hands fail to suppress the desperate, hopeless wails you release from behind them.

"That was beautiful," you barely hear him say through the ringing in your ears. "But I'm not done, Doctor."

[river-bottom-nightmare]

as a finishing touch to her outfit, mother reapplies her lipstick: a bold, matte mauve looking all the richer on her mouth. damian knows the delicate hilts of the twin swords hidden in her boots are the same colour. so are the daggers in her layers of skirts. mother's quiet declaration of personality, vicious and viper-beautiful.

damian himself is done up much the same, and he's itchy. he reaches up to tug at his collar again, but mother tsks when she spots him in her vanity mirror, an ornate thing taking up half the wall of her room. "this dinner is filled with your grandfather's friends, damian. you must look immaculate." her voice is stern, steadily so, and damian almost misses the note of fear woven within it.

he cuts his gaze up at her and tries to scowl, though he's afraid it comes out as more of a pout. "they're grandfather's friends, so no matter how i look, i'll be fine."

"that," mother snaps. "that is precisely what you will not do. and keep your gaze down."

"but—"

she crosses the room and kneels down in front of him, catching his hands in her own. "you must keep your eyes down, damian. even if you're furious, even if everything in you is screaming to unsheathe your weapons and show them just how powerful you are, even if it burns you like the suns, you keep your head ducked and your eyes down."

damian makes a show of tugging his hands, caring little about pulling them free. something in his mother's tone has him staring right into her eyes, capturing his attention, a pollock writhing. still, he says, "but then they'll see right through me!"

"precisely," she replies, not missing a second. "for someone of your status, there's nothing safer than being invisible, and that's what matters. keeping yourself safe."

"is it?"

"yes." her voice scratches its sharp-edged nails in the marrow of his bones like collecting tree sap. "and no matter what you do, keep your eyes down. understand?"

and damian cannot find it within himself to argue. "yes, mother."

she nods her approval, then rises to gather the last of her belongings before heading to the door, damian in tow. she moves to open it, but before her hand lands on the handle, it tenses. "and damian? if anything does go wrong, i will not let anything happen to you. i will not let anything touch you, okay? i promise."

---

as a finishing touch to his outfit, father fumbles on his cufflinks. his fingers are almost unsure, working over the silver like a ghost, like weaving a tapestry with spiderwebs and his own fingertips. the roughly stylized 'w' on them, a relic from an old time, is enough to tell damian of their origins.

the stark white of damian's new dress shirt is unfamiliar, and it contrasts his skin tone—sharpening his fledgling cheekbones, throwing shadows under his eyes. he looks, damian thinks, very young. much younger than he holds himself to be.

cufflinks on, father turns to damian, but out of the corner of his eye, damian sees him frown.

"no," father says. "no, damian, look up."

he does, but it's out of surprise. "what?"

"always, always, eyes up. never let them see you falter. never let them make you small."

"eyes down keeps me unnoticed," damian counters, the response route and feeling more like it's coming out of mauve-coloured lips than his own. "eyes down keeps me safe."

father's frown deepens, the lines in his face well-etched, like a groove in a rock widening and widening until it splits in two. "not here," he says. "here it makes you vulnerable."

"but—"

"these people? they want you to get angry. they want you to prove every horrible assumption about you right. and the minute you give them what they want, they've won."

father's always been a quiet sort of strength, like old sepia photographs clinging stubbornly to time, but right now, he looks like he's bleeding over. he looks like a wave of colour in the most furious, frantic way.

"they will treat you, damian, like complete shit. they want your anger. what you'll gift them in return is a steady look, maybe even and that will—that'll enrage them."

damian's heart twists, and suddenly, irrationally, he feels very out of his depth. but father takes a deep breath, straightens his shoulders, and rolls them back once. with a ripple cascading down his body, his suit becomes armour, an iron-strong shield made of silk and cashmere, ready to take to the outside world like a beast to a forest, like teeth to a jugular. damian does his best to copy him.

bruce nods his approval, then double-checks his communicator and batarang in a hidden pocket before heading towards the door, damian in tow. he moves to open it, but before his hand lands on the handle, it tenses. "and damian? if anything does go wrong, i will not let anything happen to you. i will not let anything touch you, okay? i promise."

---

idk i'm having some bruce and talia emotions, and what better vehicle to express them than damain.

also, happy ganpati everyone!

tag list: @woahajimes @birdy-bat-writes @subtleappreciation @catxsnow @pricetagofficial @screennamealreadyused @clamityganon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @buticaaba @comics-observer @newsical @queenofbooknerds @scattered-winter @amillionandonefandoms

[baekhansol]

Please, Master | h.hj

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : hwang hyunjin x f!reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : smut / pwp

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 : mature

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1655 words

𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 : kitten play pwp

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 :Warnings: pet (kitten) play, anal (tail) plug, dry humping, voyeurism, use of toys, unprotected sex, breeding kink, master kink, creampie, orgasm denial, slight nipple play

© im-sakura 2021. All Rights Reserved.

You feel like a needy kitten in heat. You are a whimpering mess as you decide what to do, playing with your fluffy white clip-on ears. You tug on the sleeves of your borrowed sweater, quickly texting Hyunjin to make sure he would come home soon. When he replies that he was on his way, you lick your lips.

You adjust your tail before you put his pillow between your legs, needily grinding on it. As you grind on it, the sensation from your new tail butt plug makes you mewl louder.

You don't hear Hyunjin come home, but you do hear him open the bedroom door. Your face turns red and you quickly stop, trying to adjust yourself with a little needy whimper.

"Kitten," he says softly, and you don't meet his eyes, so you miss the hunger in them.

"S-s-sorry master," you whimper, sitting up and dropping your head.

"Does my kitten need some play time? Is my kitten needy?" Hyunjin asks, his voice smoother than silk.

You whimper, biting your lip shyly. You hadn't made any rules about whether you could touch yourself or not with Hyunjin yet. In fact, you only recently told him you liked kitten play. After seeing you and taking care of you in subspace, he wasn't too surprised and gladly said he would try it out.

"Kitten, I asked you a question," he says, lifting your chin to make you look up at him before he tugs on your pretty pink collar.

"I want to play, master," you admit earnestly, feeling your core throb.

"Will you show me what you were just doing? You're a good kitten, so I'm sure you can," Hyunjin asks, cooing softly as you lay back down and put the pillow between your legs.

You begin to grind into it, your head turned to see his reaction. He licks his lips as he watches, and you whimper softly. Hyunjin says nothing, but flips your skirt up to better expose what you were doing.

You hear him groan softly as he takes in your fluffy white tail, but more so at how your panties had a cute hole for the tail and a tiny bow above it.

"My kitten is so needy, hmm," he muses, listening to your soft noises as if they were music.

Hyunjin leans over and opens the drawer with your toys, and you pause to watch him with an open mouth, wondering if he was grabbing a condom yet.

Instead, he takes out the bunny vibrator and lubricant. A soft whine escapes you, and he tsks lightly. "None of that now, kitten," he says, shaking his head.

"I want your cock," you mewl shyly, batting your eyelashes up at him.

"Prove it to me and be a good girl before I breed you, kitten," Hyunjin says simply as he stalks closer.

"Now," he begins, pulling the pillow out between your legs. "Are you going to take off your panties or am I going to rip them off?"

"I'll take them off, master!" You assure him, quickly tossing them onto the floor and exposing your throbbing core.

"So wet already," he coos, teasing your entrance with the tip of the rabbit vibrator. Hyunjin turns it on the low setting, teasing your folds and getting the toy more lubricated.

"P-p-please master," you beg, trying your best not to buck your hips up.

"You need to be patient for master, kitten. You had play time by yourself, now it's my play time," Hyunjin explains, pushing the head of the toy in your hole, causing any response you could give him to turn incoherent.

Your soft mewls grow louder as he turns it on higher, letting the toy fuck you on its own. Hyunjin guides it to the perfect spot, and you’re soon cumming embarrassingly fast.

“M-m-master!” you mewl, tearing up as he turns up the vibrations on the toy.

“You can take more, keep going,” Hyunjin hushes you, gently rubbing your side as he turns you onto your hands and knees.

The overstimulation from your previous orgasm has you cumming again all too quickly for your liking as a soft “please please please?” escapes you.

Your face scrunches up from the overstimulation again, and you feel yourself tearing up. Hyunjin then turns off the toy, but leaves it inside of you.

“Roll over onto your back again,” he commands sternly, but gently helps you regardless.

When you lift your hips up and turn, he tugs down your skirt and tosses it onto the floor with your panties.

“Shirt off,” he demands, and you quickly obey.

Your cheeks heat up now that you were completely bare in front of him while he was still fully clothed. Your cunt aches from the toy, and you’re relieved when Hyunjin reaches down and carefully pulls it out of you.

You moan lowly at the sensation, and one of his eyebrows twitches at your response. You both watch in awe as your juices stick to the toy, and as he pulls it away a string of your arousal drops onto the bed near your tail.

“My needy little kitten,” Hyunjin practically purrs.

“Just for you, Jinnie,” you murmur bashfully.

He looks at you in surprise, and you quickly realize your mistake. You didn’t call him master. Hyunjin shakes his head with a smile before you can apologize, setting the toy aside and stripping slowly.

“How much do you want me?” he asks, staring at you after taking off his shirt.

“So much master. I need you so badly,” you begin, your eyes wide and pleading.

“Hmmm…” Hyunjin hums, not convinced as he continues to slowly take off his pants.

“Please? I want your cock in me so bad. I’m a pretty kitty in heat, remember? I need you so badly that it’s all I can think about,” you babble, the innocent look on your face a stark contrast to your dirty words.

“I need it so badly,” you nearly start to cry, feeling your hole clenching around nothing.

Hyunjin nods thoughtfully, taking off his boxers and releasing his erection.

“Alright kitty, you’ve been good so I will give you my cock, okay?”

You eagerly nod as he meets your lips for a kiss, quickly pulling them away to kiss down your jaw and neck, sucking and nipping harshly to create marks.

You whimper at his teasing actions, as he knew you were ready for his delicious length. Before you can beg more, he pinches both of your nipples, a knowing smirk on his face as you let out a loud moan. Hyunjin is quick to take one in his mouth, sucking on the sensitive bud before grazing it with his teeth. His ministrations are too short, as he soon switches to the other. Hyunjin fully knows that he could make you cum just from playing with your breasts, but now is not the time.

Once he is satisfied with the marks he created, he flips you over and pulls your ass up in the air. Hyunjin tugs on your tail, causing you to moan and arch your back more.

“Please master?” you beg as he slides his cock between your soaking folds.

“Please what?” he asks, feigning ignorance of what you needed.

“Need master to breed me,” you beg, trying to give him a pleading look from over your shoulder.

Hyunjin lets out a satisfied hum before pushing the head of his cock inside of you, letting out a soft moan at the sensation.

You let out a pleased whimper, trying to move your hips closer to his.

He notices right away and pulls completely out of you, smacking your ass. “Who is in charge here?” Hyunjin asks.

Your voice gets caught in your throat, but he waits for you to speak.

“You, master,” you manage to say.

“Then stay still,” Hyunjin commands.

A soft whine escapes you, but you stay still as the head of his cock prods your entrance again. He slowly enters you, and you knew it was to test your patience.

“Please master,” you murmur, clawing at the sheets.

Hyunjin hums and slides the rest of the way in, the head of his cock resting against your cervix. A loud moan escapes you as he grinds his hips into you, letting your body adjust to him being balls deep.

“Stay still kitten,” he murmurs, his hands gripping your waist as he slowly begins to thrust into you.

His cock rubs against your g spot with each thrust, causing you to close your eyes and let out gasps and moans into the sheets. Hyunjin is quick to speed up, his grip on your waist tightening. You try to muffle your sounds into the bed, but Hyunjin notices immediately.

He stops his thrusts, snaking a hand from your waist to your stomach and up your torso, wrapping around to hold onto your shoulder as he pulls you up, your back flush against his chest.

“Let me hear your cries, kitten,” he grunts hotly in your ear, biting your earlobe before beginning to thrust.

You whimper out and hold onto his arms as one wraps around your waist, his thrusts more precise and harsh than before.

You begin to moan and cry his name incoherently, feeling overwhelmed in the best way. Hyunjin sucks marks on your neck, and you feel his length twitching inside of you. After another loud whimper escapes you, Hyunjin moans your name and cums inside of you.

He thrusts a few more times as his length begins to soften, then pulls out and lays you down on your back, spreading your legs open to see his cum leaking out of you.

The look on his face softens slightly, and he reaches up and wipes your tears with his thumb.

“I didn’t get to cum,” you murmur, pouting.

“Only good kittens get to cum on their master’s cocks,” he informs you, raising an eyebrow.

[beomglocks]

happy (very) 'belated' father’s day

summary : the only father willing to come to the dinner

pairing : dilf neighbor!soobin x (legal)!reader x beomgyu (?)

warnings & other: i wrote the day after fathers day, the title is edited bc im posting this like WAY later LOL, threesome (?), degradation, some beomgyu (no incest), sub!beomgyu if you squint like really fucking hard, definitely not a normal relationship, slight exhibitionism, some possessiveness, DON’T read if you’re uncomfortable with age gaps, edit: REwriting this, this one is for the dilf soobin stans, eat up, don't say i don't feed yall, enjoy <3, kind of proofread

w/c : ~4k

you realize it now.

after living side by side with mr. choi soobin and his son, beomgyu, for a couple of weeks, you’ve started to realize something quite interesting.

1. your mother has a liking for tall lean men.

2. she also has a liking for trying to set you up with the tall lean mens’ son.

now, you wouldn't say you're exactly opposed to getting close to beomgyu. he's conventionally attractive and he seems like a nice boy but you're very much more attracted to the one who created him. it made sense after all.

"give these to mr. choi for me?" your mother all but shoves the roses and chocolates in your arms. you look down quizzically at such gifts. "it's not valentine's day.." you trail off.

you have a strange feeling that soobin would be put off by such acts, not seeming to be as out there as your mother. she doesn't care.

"it's fathers day..well it was...yesterday," she shrugs, fixing her bombshell red lipstick. why was she doing herself up? well a certain mr. choi was coming over.

despite the fact that your own father was out of the picture, that didn't stop your mom from wanting to celebrate every holiday in existence. unfortunately, the only willing father in town to partake in your mother's antics was mr. choi.

he liked to rile her up, you notice. soobin liked to toy with your mother's clear affection towards him, just as he did you. he also liked to throw it in your face sometimes. you didn't say what you observed but you knew he liked to make her feel wanted by a much younger, much more handsome man.

without another word, you decide to give the outlandish gifts to your neighbor. you sigh, looking down at the gifts. some assorted chocolates, nice flower arrangements, and what seems to be a sealed note? you want to roll your eyes but a part of you wonders if soobin would really like these kinds of things.

when you get to the door and ring the bell, the door swings open and there's stands the man himself. he's more put together than you at the moment so you feel out of place even at the front step of his house.

"always a pleasant surprise~" he smiles. his eyes trail down to the gifts in your arms. "for me?" his eyes grow wide and his pouty lips, the ones which you suddenly can't stop staring at since they seemed to be stained cherry red, lay slightly agape.

"from my mom," you deadpan, holding the gifts out. "she's generous~" "overbearing," you correct. "we seem to have different views then," he shrugs. "where's my gift from you though? this can't be all," he ponders in faux thought.

you smile shyly, looking down in embarrassment. "what did you get me baby?" he teasingly leans down closer to you to properly see your face. "could it be perhaps-"

before soobin can place a hand on you, beomgyu comes from downstairs. he's looking sharp, which suits him a lot, you admit. his hair is parted, giving you a teasing view of his forehead. regardless of the fact that he's wearing casual clothes, a stark contrast from his father who dawns an all black attire, beomgyu still manages to make it work for him.

"we'll be seeing you at the dinner," soobin clears his throat, noticing your apparent staring at his son. you can tell that he feels off put by your slight attraction to beomgyu. however small or minuscule it may be its still there to him.

the dinner goes almost exactly how you thought it would. soobin and your mother hit it off, talking about whatever they could to distract themselves from their children for a while. to your surprise soobin barely interacts with you. he seems too occupied with entertaining your mom to pay you any mind.

you're not sure why but this bothers you. beomgyu is occupied in the bathroom at the moment so you can't help but glance in their direction every couple of seconds. your mom is currently leaning against soobin's broad shoulder, laughing at something he's previously said. so he’s a comedian.

you watch as he looks down at her with a satisfied smile on his face. you bite the inside on your cheek and as if on cue, soobin looks up in your direction and smirks. it's almost as if he's taunting you. you bite down harder until you taste something metallic in your mouth.

you're not sure where this feeling of jealously is coming from and you know it's not healthy but you can't help it. maybe you've gotten too attached to your older neighbor in these past couple of weeks.

beomgyu comes out of the restroom with a sigh, walking back into the living room where you are. he can feel a weird tension in your general area but decides not to comment on it. suddenly you stand up, catching beomgyu off guard.

"come on beomgyu!" you say loud enough for everyone to hear especially soobin. the man in question practically pauses in speech midway to look over at you and his son. he eyes you both, mainly giving you a glare that will be engraved in your mind but you don't care. he needs a taste of his own medicine.

"come on let's go to my room, i need to show you something~" you urge him along. meanwhile, you say those words while staring straight at soobin. you hear your mom assure him that it's ok, "the kids are doing their own thing." you knew you were being childish and petty but if soobin wanted to fuck around with you this is what he would have to deal with as well.

you drag beomgyu along to your room who seems quite eager to be in this position. all he knows is that there's a weird tension between you and his father but that's as far as his knowledge goes.

when you both arrive at your room you close the door behind you and lean back on it. "is everything alright?" beomgyu hesitantly asks. you sigh, ushering him along to sit on the bed with you. he looks around subtly at all the little items in your room. everything seems to reflect you well, in his opinion. "well.." you try to stall.

you look up at him through your lashes. "you like me right?" beomgyu stares at you with wide eyes, "i-i mean yeah?" he stutters at your boldness.

"then lets try something," you smile at him, casually pulling your shirt over your head. "let's see how long it takes for your dad to come see us in this position," you say to yourself.

soobin doesn't need to be a rocket scientist to know what's going on here. he knows you're being a brat on purpose but he doesn't care because it makes it all the more fun. he will say he's surprised that you're using beomgyu, his own son, to get to him.

at first, he was getting annoyed with how you seemed to take a liking for his son which is why he wanted to rile you up by seeming extra interested in whatever your mom had to say. now, however, he knew he had a plan for that. you were not going to outsmart him, he wouldn't allow it and he would just have to put you in your place.

"excuse me but i need to use your restroom," soobin makes up a bullshit excuse to get to where you are. "oh of course!" your mom nods at him, instructing him towards the one upstairs. perfect.

"ill just finish up the dinner then!" your mother offers. "great that's enough time to put this slut in her place," he thinks. he smiles at your mom heading for upstairs.

"beomgyu you look like you just saw a ghost," you chuckle lightly, looking down at him. "y/n," he groans at the sight of only seeing you in your bra. he reaches up to grab your breasts, fondling them as delicately as possible. "you can be rough," you offer.

without even bothering to knock on the door, soobin opens it to see you both on the bed in a lewd position. you shirtless on top of beomgyu. he sucks his teeth when you both look back in alarm at the door being burst open. "y/n," he chuckles, almost sadistically.

you can already see the look in his eyes and suddenly you feel bad for not only yourself but beomgyu as well. you try to subtly grab your shirt again in shame but soobin's glare stops you. "what do you think you're doing little slut?" he folds his arms over his chest. not even caring that beomgyu is in the room, he walks over to you and grabs your hair causing you to yelp in surprise.

"s-sir.." soobin narrows his eyes at you then they flit over to beomgyu. "sit over there," he motions to the beanbag in the corner of the room. "i want you to learn something from this." without another word, beomgyu scrambles over to the seat, his heart beating in fear and excitement strangely.

you feel heat rising up your neck and to your cheeks as well as your dripping pussy. "don't be embarrassed, im sure this was your plan all along," soobin tsks, shoving your face down into the sheets. you breathe out when he rips the skirt and underwear from your body without a second thought. the racy thong that was supposed to be his surprise for father's day discarded in a second.

"soobin-" a smack to your ass. "that's not my name."

he doesn't even give you a chance to correct yourself, messing with your sticky juices before entering his cold fingers into your hole. you try to stifle your moan by burying your head further into the sheets.

"god you're so wet," soobin comments. he slowly moves his finger in and out for a while, practically torturing you with how meticulous and slow he's being. "please," you whine pathetically. "please what?" he slows his movements to stare at you with a raised eyebrow.

"please f-fuck me, please, i need your cock," you beg shamelessly. beomgyu breathes heavily, trying to forget about his growing boner but not being able to ignore it. he painfully wants to do something about it but he's not sure if he's allowed to touch himself.

he opts for subtly dragging his hand to his clothed crotch and palming himself through his pants, as uncomfortable as it is. in the meantime, soobin rids himself of his own pants, shaking his head.

he lightly smacks your throbbing pussy and you jolt. "do you seriously think you deserve it? fuck, look at you, can’t wait to be fucked like a bitch in heat~" you whine, wiggling your ass wordlessly in his face to hopefully get what you want.

soobin rubs your clit with narrowed eyes, making sure beomgyu is watching. he could care less that beomgyu is touching himself. he drags some of your cum from your hole to your clit and sighs. "alright then.."

he aligns himself with your hole and without another word slips his cock in with ease, completely bottoming out.

you want to scream at how big he is but you're only left with ragged pants as you know you're unable to make any loud noises. it seriously feels like you could be torn apart at any minute but you love the feeling of soobin’s cock filling you out.

"you're so tight seriously," soobin breathes. he can barely move at first. the way his dick fits inside of your pussy perfectly. he almost wants to comment about how you were practically made for him. he's sure if he flips you over right now, he would see the outline of his cock in your womb.

after waiting a bit for you to adjust to his length he finally starts moving. "shit-" he breathes. you have to grip the sheets to stop yourself from yelling. soobin's hands find their way to your waist and when you look to the side just for a split second you can see beomgyu fighting for his life to not moan out loud.

"look beomgyu-" soobin says in between jagged breaths. "if you wanna fuck around with his pathetic slut this is how you treat her." a moan gets caught in your throat when soobin pounds into you at once. "ah- i-" a part of you wants to apologize and is trying to but he won't give you a chance to speak.

"isn't that right my slutpuppy? did you have something to add?" at the sound of the nickname your walls tighten around him and he sends a harsh smack to your ass. "you're enjoying this aren't you?" he rolls his eyes and sighs heavily.

soobin thrusts start getting faster and faster, beomgyu watching with his mouth agape at his father kissing and sucking at your neck to muffle his own moans. beomgyu can only bite his lip and noises from his throat barely pass his lips as he reaches his high.

soobin growls at seeing your eyes focus on beomgyu so he starts slamming his cock into you at an animalistic pace and you think you might break.

beomgyu bucks into his hand as he cums from the sound and sight of skin slapping added with the tiny noises you'd make. not too long after you feel yourself shudder, unable to warn soobin that you had come you squeeze your eyes shut and let out a whine instead.

"fuck- ok baby," soobin understands as soon as your walls squeeze around him. he pants a couple a times and as soon as he reaches his high he pulls out, pumping his cock to let his cum shoot out on your ass.

"s-sir," you moan. "shhh it's ok." soobin sighs heavily, coming down from his own high to tend to your broken state. he looks over at beomgyu, who's head is lulled to the side as he gazes at your sweat and semen covered body.

soobin sucks his teeth deciding not to say anything to the boy and let him chill for a minute. he shrugs his pants back on and carries you in his arms to the nearest bathroom.

you cozy up to his warm embrace, letting out a sigh. "baby we need to clean you off.." you hear him whisper. you almost completely forget that there's a dinner that's supposed to be happening and you cant just go to sleep with soobin like you'd want.

a sudden coldness hits your body and you shiver. "ok," you agree. his cum is already starting to dry on you and you want nothing more than to be cleaned like he offers. you're not sure how you'll explain your change of clothes to your mom but you're sure you'll come up with something later.

no words need to be spoken after what happened and you're glad because you're not sure what to say. soobin doesn't seem keen on talking at the moment either, too focused on cleaning you off, so you decide to stay quiet.

it's silent in the bathroom until you both hear your mother all out. "dinner's ready!"

you chuckle, breaking the silence as soobin looks up at you with a questioning eyebrow. “happy father’s day.”

[bonny-kookoo]

Sing to me: JJK x Reader 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mermaid AU, Siren!Jungkook, Prince!Jungkook, homeless!Reader, Romance,  Smut duh

Wordcount: 5k (medium)

Tags/Warnings: okay so, spoiled kook, possessive kook, Theres literally an attempted murder lol, drowning? whoops, blood oh no, reader is hella fucking dense ok, biting, courting lol, fish boy is in love, whoops, anyways we got sexy times too, because in this AU fishboy got legs n all of that hah, unprotected sex because, guys pls this ain't supposed to he realistic, wrap it before you tap it folks, its also not all that filthy lol, blink and you'll miss the scene, honestly I didn't include much smut because yall nasty so you will ask for dirty drabbles anyways, not that I mind lol, k I'm done I think, wow mom I've sinned less than usual..

Summary: Help me love myself, and I might learn to love you as well.

Or alternatively: you save Jungkook from being killed, and he totally gets the wrong signals. But he's cute, so its fine. Probably.

Jungkook is floating.

He thinks about what lies above the waves, and cant think of anything he really finds interesting. The surface is littered in junk, in things humans leave behind without thinking twice about it. It's air is thick and stuffy, hard to breathe and never clear at all. It's crowded, with creatures who at the end of the day all look the same in his eyes. There's nothing exciting about the world people walk on.

Its boring, and dirty.

His own home is, compared to that, a kingdom radiating like the moon itself. It shines and sparkles, and harbors some of the most beautiful creatures ever to be found. He and his family, as well as everyone else, live in peace with nature down underneath the waves, existing side by side instead of trying to gain the upper hand all the time.

And he's reminded of the cruelty of man, when he finds himself caught in a net.

He's somehow made the fishermen drop it instead of pulling him up on their boat. But that doesn't mean he's free- he's still struggling with it, fighting it, but he cant rip it apart. All he does really, is tie the knots tighter, have them dig into his skin until spots are rubbed raw. He can't really swim anywhere at this point, gives up as he can see the last lights of his distant home fade into the distance.

Jungkook is floating.

He's slowly being led by the waves, by the love of wind and waters, as he closes his eyes. Its a pity, really; for a prince held so high to die by the mere hands of the poor, he thinks. It's upsetting him, very much so, but he takes it as it is. There's nothing he can do anyways, as he slowly comes into contact with the sand below. It washes him up onto short, the dry sand sticking to his body, waves pushing him higher and higher onto the ground.

He shivers, the cold outside air biting at his skin now unsheltered and defenseless.

He doesn't know how long he lays there.

But at some point, steps are heard on the sand. He keeps his eyes closed, doesn't care about what will happen next- he really just wants to have it be over by now, the ropes already painfully burning his skin at certain spots. He's sure theres sand in his wounds as something touches him- warm fingers, hesitant, and almost shy.

He keeps his eyes closed.

"My god, I hate humans.." You mutter under your breath, your voice hitting his ears, making him notice the way it sounds. He thinks it sounds very similar to some of his kind; sirens being blessed with voices sweet and enchanting. Maybe you were one of the strays who had decided to live on the surface for some reason? But your smell was entirely human, although much sweeter and pleasant than anyone he'd met before. And then, after a small short moment of pain-

He's free.

His arms flop to his side, and he breathes in deeply- finally able to fully move again. His eyes open, and adjust to the night for a moment, before they meet yours.

How interesting.

"Jungkook?" Jimin asks him, curious to what has gotten the young Siren so occupied. Typically, Jungkook would be watching the annual kingdom dances with at least some form of interest; even if it was just a glimpse of it, just to make his parents worry less about him misbehaving. But today, as the graceful dancers move around to the orchestra playing, the young prince is absolutely not there. At least not mentally. "Jungkook." The older one scolds, getting Jungkooks attention- his gaze hard and annoyed. "Please, young prince- at least try to pretend you're interested. This is after all part of our culture." He strategically uses his title as teasing- something which makes Jungkook snort without any fun.

"I really don't want to be here." He explains, and Jimin sighs. "I'd rather be at the surface.." He mumbles, being careful not to be too loud- but Jimin does pick it up, and so does his partner, Taehyung, next to him- now leaning a bit forward to hear better.

"Oh?" Jimin asks. "What could be of interest there, I wonder?" He teases, and Jungkook grows even more irritated.

"Nothing that should interest a whore like you." He says harshly, though Jimin knows he means no harm with it. Jimin is, after all, a man who enjoys the simple pleasures in life- which is why he can't quite grasp why Jungkook, a young man in his prime like himself, doesn't seem to care about whats going on around him.

"Hm, but I think she must be absolutely divine if you're willing to risk the wrath of your own mother just to see her." He says, and Taehyung snickers next to him, clearly amused.

But to both of their surprise, Jungkook grows.. calm. Theres even a glimpse of a smile on his lip as he rests his head on his head, elbow on the armrest of his throne. "That she is." He says, quietly, as he watches the young woman in front of him. He has to imagine you there instead, moving oh so gracefully to the sounds of his Kingdom's greatest musicians- dressed in the most beautiful gown he'd gift you. "That she is.." He repeats, a dreaming look on his face that Jimin has not seen before.

Jungkook watches you.

He enjoys watching you on your daily trips to the beach, picking up cans and bottles, and other things people throw away without care. You're cleaning up the beach, and he thinks its a very good behavior- he likes the way you always carefully scan the ground and sides for any garbage. He swims a little closer as he spots you squatting down; eyes lighting up as you pick up a shell he'd personally not care much for. It's slightly pink- but nothing he hasn't seen in his life. They're so common, and he suddenly thinks that if this already makes you happy, what if he was to bring you something else? Something better, something more worth your attention?

He feels a rush of excitement.

Dashing into the opposite direction, he makes his way towards the ground below, eyes scanning the ground as he searches for something. He spots it after a few minutes of searching, but when he holds the pearl, he hesitates.

Its not enough.

No, that's not what you should get. He's only paying back his dept, yeah, that's what he's doing. But what if he was overdoing it by bringing you something too expensive or rare? No, he should be smart about it, yeah. Start small, and work your way up he thinks, as he takes the pearls he's collected while deep in thought, and pushes himself back to the top, swimming easily. He hopes you're still there-

And there you are, dipping your feet into the water.

He looks at what he can see; only able to see clearly underneath the waves rather than above. There's a bracelet hanging around your ankle, and it looks cheap, he thinks. It only helps him by giving him ideas for his next gifts- if you would accept his first, that is. He's never been rejected before, but then again, has always rejected instead. Nothing had interested him to the extend you did. Maybe you really were of his kind, secretly.

When he slowly brings his head up the waves, you don't get scared, or flinch. You simply look, spot him, and smile.

He likes that expression.

He comes closer, free hand helping him onto the stone you sit on, his hand holding your gift eagerly pushing against yours. You understand quickly, and open them, and he smiles. You're smart, he notes, and it only adds to your qualities, he thinks. Dropping the pearls, your eyes sparkle again- as they should, he thinks with pride. You inspect them with big eyes, as if you've never seen something alike. He enjoys your reaction- and you nod at him. "Thank you- are they for me to keep?" You ask, pointing to them, and then at your chest. He's not fully fluent in human language, but has picked up on some words and phrases, since Seokjin had recently strayed- teaching him some stuff whenever he got bored and visited his younger brother.

So Jungkook nods. "You." He says, and you like the sound of his voice; fittingly just as handsome as the rest of him, you think. But then again- his kind is known for its beauty and enchanting voices. "Keep." He tells you, pushing your closed palm a bit closer to your body as if to underline his statement. You think its cute, in a way.

"Okay." You say. "I'll keep them-?" You ask, and he doesn't understand, until you point to yourself, and say a name- yours, he supposes.

"Ah-" He starts, pointing to himself. "Jungkook. Jeon, Jungkook." He tells you, and you nod, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you, Jeon Jungkook." You smile, and he grins back, slightly sharpened canines in stark contrast with his bunny-like smile.

He thinks its nice to meet you too.

"But you're a witch, aren't you?" Jungkook argues, staring at Taehyung. "I thought you were all so capable." He challenges, and Taehyungs eyes darken- quite literally, since sea witches do technically have black eyes- but conceal them, as to not scare off people. He regains his composure however when Jimins hand lays on his shoulder.

"Now now, no need to become huffy." He says. "He didn't say he can't do it- he simply told you that its not that easy." He explains, and Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes. Ever the spoiled prince, they think to themselves.

"I don't care about that." He states. "Can you do it, or can you not?" He asks, and Taehyung thinks for a moment.

"I.." He begins, before he sighs. "I can. But, there's a catch, Jungkook." He tells him, and this time, the youngest of the group seems just as serious as he listens. "I can't promise that.. the result will be what you will expect." He says.

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks.

"There's a chance she won't survive it."

He doesn't think much about why you're so often sitting on that rocky structure close to the deep- he likes not having to get out of the water to be close to you. And you think, Jungkook is quite the interesting being.

He’s curious; that much you can tell. His hands rest on your knees, your toes sometimes brushing against his abdomen as he swims closer- face coming forward to properly look at you. His vision must be bad outside of the waters you assume, his brown eyes squinting in concentration until he huffs and let’s himself back into the waters. You chuckle, and simply take off your jacket, slipping into the water as well as you control your breath- his entire face brightening at your body now underwater in his world, finally clear to see for his eyes.

You’re pretty, he thinks, definitely prettier than any other human he’d encountered before. The clothes covering your breasts and private parts a bit dull and boring for his taste- but he’d change that soon. He smiles, happy, before holding up his finger as if to signal for you to wait before he swims away, elegantly and fast. You swim up to breath some air, catch your breath, until there’s a hand around your calf, holding, fingers running over the skin, signaling you to come down again. You follow his question, taking a deep breath to meet him underneath the surface; his excited hands wrapping something around your neck, before he swims in circles as if he’s suddenly got too much energy. You point to yourself, as if to ask if you can keep it- and he nods, wide eyes watching you with a smile that you can’t help but mirror.

You don't quite realize what he's doing.

He however thinks you know. You know that he's courting you, and you're interested in him. You know that he's just given you more than a simple gift. He only believes you're letting him work for it- something he happily does, taking on the challenge as always. He swims closer, holds your shoulders, as his eyes look into yours, his gaze happy and child-like almost. He's close to finally showing you affection- but you suddenly swim to the surface instead.

And even though he knows you only wanted to breathe, he can't help but feel slightly sour at the ruined moment.

"You're awfully happy these days." His mother says, watching her son in the gardens of the palace. "May I ask what has gotten you in such a bright mood?" She asks, and Jungkook doesn't quite know how to break it to her. He knows its not forbidden, knows it has, and does, happen each and every day it seems- but there's still fear inside of him. Theres still hesitation, even though he is not ashamed of what has happened- of what he has done. His mother however notices. "You know you can trust me, right?" She says, and he nods.

Its now or never.

"I've found a mate." He says, and his mother smiles warmly, holding his cheek as she kisses it in congratulation. "Its a human." He says, quietly, hurried- but his mother continues to smile.

"I have suspected as much." She states. "Your friend- Park Jimin- is not very good at talking quietly." She snickers, and Jungkook curses under his breath about how he wants to strangle him. Theres a huge weight lifted off of him however; finally having said it, made it very real to him, in a way- even though it was already.

Because, after all; you were wearing his kingdom's sigil around your neck already. He had claimed you.

He's restless the next time he swims to the shore to meet you again- eager to see you to give you the news of his family's acceptance.

You're late- later than usual, and his brows are furrowed, mood upset at your mannerism. You're usually always on time, always just as eager to see him he thinks- but this time, you're not there. After his anger however, he grows increasingly worried instead. What if something had happened to you instead? Oh what a bad person he would be to be mad at you for getting into an unfortunate situation. As guilt slowly makes his way into his body, claims his muscles, he moves to sit on the stone he usually finds you on. He tries to look around- rain on his skin making it possible to be out way more comfortably.

He spots movement above.

Theres a person he can't make out- throwing something off the cliff down into the sea, and Jungkook clicks his tongue in anger, already upset- but still curious on what it was the person had been so eager to discard. Typically, its tiny things or plastic he finds- but this is something else, he knows.

Underwater, he smells blood.

His pupils contract, eyes widening, as he spots the black bag slowly making its way to the bottom of the sea- red trail leading from it. Its not the blood however that makes him frantic- its the smell of it, of you, that stops his heart.

He gets you out the bag, his anger over the entire situation diminishing into nothing as he holds you close, eyes spotting the deep cut on your side, and the scratches on your face. Unsure where to bring you, he holds you close, brings you onto his back as one of his hands hold yours, your arms around his neck. He swims quickly to the only place he knows you can breathe.

The underwater cave is big enough for now, he thinks, as he brings your body onto the ground, out the water. He doesn't notice he's crying, doesn't quite speak, his native language of clicking sounds and little noises escaping him as he whines out for your attention, waiting for you to wake up somehow. He's been so invested in making you like him and accept him that he's got no idea what to do with a human. Are you cold? How can he warm you up? How does he stop bleeding wounds? How much can you bleed before you die? Are you already dying?

Jungkook doesn't know what to do. So he simply lays by your side, holding you close, in hopes his slightly higher body temperature can keep you warm.

"He's doing the best he can-" Jimin says, Seokjin next to Taehyung as they both lean over your body. Both witches are concentrated, already exhausted, but there's no way they're giving up on you now. Not only because you're important to Jungkook- but because no one deserves to simply die like this.

"I know, I know!" Jungkook huffs out, pupils turned into cat like slits- a clear sign of the absolute terror and chaos inside of him. "What if they're best isn't good enough? Jimin, I can't loose her, you don't understand-" He starts, but Jimin holds the younger one's shoulders, for the first time serious with him.

"I do." He glances at Taehyung. Jimin had saved Taehyung before as well- the young sea witch having been hit by a fisherman's harpoon years ago. Ever since then, Jimin had been attached to the witch like glue. "Trust me, I really do. And they're doing all they can to make sure she's going to be fine." He promises, and Jungkook nods.

All he can do is pray.

When you wake up, there's several things you notice.

First, you're alive. Having a raging headache, and your limbs and muscles feel horribly tender, but you're alive. There's also strings of rope tied to two rock formations acting like a clothing line, several blankets and clothes hanging from it. They don't look human-made to you- the fabrics and designs not something you would think of as regular. There's a bucket and several stained rags- now copper-brown with old blood. Its then that you look down, seeing your cut sewed shut.

You also notice its rather soft underneath you.

Its sheepskin laid over seaweed you notice- the whool soft and fluffy, and warm. Everything seems to be so thoughtfully placed, even some decorative items- you can spot fireflies casually sitting in a jar close by, and burned wood, probably to . Probably to make light during the night. You're tired however, so you simply lay down again. Quite honestly, surely you should fee worried about the situation- but then again, there was no one to miss you, no place you called your home anyways. No use in worrying- because deep down, you had your suspicion.

A Jungkook swims to the surface with the plastic box in his arms, he's careful not to throw it too hard onto the ground. As he steps out the water, he's sure to at least try and his his hands of most the water before he goes to check on the blankets he had brought this early morning. They've dried enough, he notices, and is glad about that, as he picks one up.

You don't have to be cold anymore, he thinks.

He's unnaturally careful for his typical character- his usual behavior quite the opposite as it was now. Now, he's making sure you're properly tucked in, as he notices your eyes watching him.

He freezes, for a moment.

Jungkook hasn't really thought much about what would happen if you were to wake up- after all, Seokjin had told him he was unsure if you were to wake up this early in the first place, and Taehyung didn't even know if you would wake up at all. He'd told his younger brother to be prepared for any reaction really; fear, confusion, maybe even anger. But you seem calm, curious even, and Jungkook decides to sit down in front of your face, waiting.

"You brought me here, right?" You ask, and he nods, eyes not leaving your form.

"You-.. hurt." He points to the spot where your wound had been. "Also hurt." His hand points to your head. "Brothers, helped." He informs you, and you smile, nodding at his words. He suddenly looks at the ground, mumbling. "I.. worried. Thought... you, dying." He tells you, and you sit up slowly again, keeping the blanket around your shoulders.

"I'm not dead though." You say, and he nods. "Thank you, Jungkook. Now we're even." You say, and he tilts his head in confusion- a mannerism you could only think of as cute. "I saved you- you saved me." You say, and he smiles, nodding.

"I-" He starts, leaning forward a bit, now way more energetic and lighthearted as before. "I- we-" He growls a little in frustration, and you cant help but giggle at his troubles- the chirps and clicks escaping him foreign- but somehow, they feel hazy, as if your mind knows the language, but has forgotten what it meant. He's trying so hard you notice, and appreciate. "You like here?" He asks, and points around. You nod, and he beams at you. "I made." He tells you, proudly so.

"I guessed as much. Its very thoughtful of you, thank you." You say, and he nods, happy you like what he did for you. Its not a permanent solution, obviously, but as soon as you're healed well enough, he already planned a new spot for you to come with him.

You just don't know it yet.

There's a weird feeling inside of you.

It's like homesickness, you think. Every time you look at the waters, you feel- sad? It's making you uneasy, and with every day passing by, it just gets worse and worse. But it's today, that you cant take it.

When you dip your legs into the water, it soothes an ache you can't recognize ever having. It helps your skin, it somehow feels as if you're breathing again. But It's not enough, you think- before you let yourself fall into the deep end.

You're floating.

It's like leaving a stuffy and crowded mall, just to stand in a park, fresh air after it had rained, and light breeze clearing your head. Everything is silent, but not at the same time- the water around you feeling as if you're being hugged, held. It makes you relax, makes you let go, makes you only exist for a moment.

You're floating.

And there's a sudden wave of realization that you're also breathing. There's no water in your lungs- or maybe there is, and you just don't feel it being there. Darkness surrounds you as you don't know where you are exactly- theres no telling where is where, no way to know if you're upright or not. Maybe you've died?

Did you drown?

If you did, it would explain Jungkook being there. He's swimming towards you with a face full of worry, as he grabs your wrist and holds you close. "I can't even let you out of my sight for a mere day it seems, my love." He sighs, and your eyes widen. Its almost comedic how his own do the same, focusing on your neck, as he touches.

You're sensitive, and shift away from his touch.

"It-" He starts, now holding your shoulders, as he begins to smile. "It worked! It really did- by the dragon kind, you look absolutely divine!" He laughs, and can't help but hold your hands, eyes roaming your appearance, as you don't quite get it- until you follow his gaze.

Just like him, there's fins now on the sides of your calfs, smaller ones on your ankles as well. Theres also ones decorating your outer forearms- they look like the ones you'd always see on goldfish as a kid. There's something alike to scales as well, but barely noticable. "I- what happened to me?" You ask, and Junkook smiles.

"You.. almost died." He admits, taking your hand and swimming to what you assume is back towards the cave. "You had been robbed during the day, and when I found you.. well, you know what happened." He says. "While you were asleep, we were thinking about what to do. There was no way you would survive as a human- so, a friend of mine- Taehyung- performed a ritual, together with Seokjin, my brother." He says. You finally spot light, glad to be able to have at least some form of orientation. "I'm glad you're adjusting so quickly, my love." He states, smiling at you.

You notice the petname again.

"Jungkook-" You start, as you both reach the cave again, sitting on the edge of where the ground of the cave meets the water. "Why are you.. calling me that?" You ask, and Jungkook seems confused.

"Why do you ask?" He questions. And you don't quite follow, until he continues. "You're my mate- I am only addressing you as such."

Your eyes widen. "Wait- we're-" You start, and its only then that it clicks in Jungkooks head.

"Oh." He says- the dissapointment bitter and evident in his voice. "You.. didn't know?" He asks, and you shake your head, unsure what he means. "I see.." He tells you, suddenly distant. "I.. will bring you breakfast tomorrow.. sleep well." He abruptly says, and before you can say anything, he's already gone.

What just happened?

"There you are!" A voice says, deeper than Jungkooks, but not unfamiliar. Taehyung had been visiting and bringing you food and nescessities ever since that talk with Jungkook. This time, however, Taehyung seems like he wants to say something. You look at him, silently urging him, and he sits down next to you, sighing.

"Does he hate me?" You ask, quietly, and Taehyung looks sad.

"He could never." He says. "He just.. didn't take the rejection well. He'll need time to come around. It won't take that much time- his mother is already trying to get a new partner for him." He explains, and your head whips around towards him. "I- you.. did reject him, right?" He asks, slowly. "You do.. not love him, right?" He urges again, and you groan suddenly, throwing your face into your hands.

"Oh my god I'm so stupid.." You say. "It all.. everything was so overwhelming, I didn't even notice what he was doing." You cry into your hands, as Taehyungs hand places itself onto your back, trying to soothe you. "I though.. especially after I found out about his status.." You mumble. "How could he want me?" You ask, and Taehyung sighs.

"Head up, little siren." He says. "He's still able to hear you sing, if you want to." He says, and you look at him.

"But how?" You say. "I have no idea where the kingdom, or anything really is. And he won't come see me until its too late." You say.

"Well-" Taehyung says, standing up, and holding out his hand. "-allow me to escort the future princess to her lover."

"How did you find me?" He simply asks, not turning around, as you float closer. "I'm sorry, but I still need time to.. get over-" He starts, but you don't let him finish, instead leaning into his back, your arms around his middle.

"I'm stupid." You say. "I'm really, really stupid." He shakes his head, but you continue. "Just because I didn't realize- doesn't mean that I don't feel anything for you." You say. "I just.. felt unworthy, I guess. Insignificant." You admit, and he turns around, holding your face in his hands.

"You really are not gifted with the mind of the dragons king, my love." He states teasingly, the glimmer in his eyes returning. "My status means nothing to me, if that meant I could not have you." He says, and you lean forward, capturing his lips. "I hope you know what this meant, at least." He teases, and your eyes widen, scared you might've done something wrong. "It means you love me." He says, and you chuckle.

"Good." You say. "Because I do."

Even though he thinks you looked like a goddess reborn in your white and pearl decorated gown from the wedding, he enjoys you without it, close to him, just as much. He's alive, he's feeling, he's in love, as his hands move over your skin, his senses filled with you and nothing else.

The sounds you make for him are sweeter than any siren's song he's ever heard or could ever sing himself. No member of his kind is as enchanting as you, he decides, as he bites and kisses the sensitive skin of your neck. Jimin had teased him relentlessly the entire evening and night by trying to send you sweet words, to which you didn't react- but that didn't mean that it didn't piss him off.

You were his.

His princess- and soon to be queen, one day.

And he's planning on making that very evident, as he marks up your skin with little bites, visible for everyone to see. He wants everyone to know, even though by tomorrow, the entire Kingdom will celebrate the marriage of its prince anyways. He's more than ready to show you off, to hold you close, to have people see the divine being at his side that's you.

It's only natural for his hands to roam your skin, for his lips to worhip every inch it seems, as you reach out for his hand every second it leaves you. It's painfully endearing he thinks, how you can be so innocent and pure, while he's between your legs, performing the sinful act of pleasuring you with his mouth.

You pull him towards you, as you straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him. He's in god's divine lands he thinks, as he suddenly feels you sinking down on his awaiting length. You fit around him perfectly, more so than he could've ever imagined. And as you both move, he holds you close, happy that here, in his world, he doesn't need to breathe.

He can kiss you as long as he wants.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. I spilled strawberry milk on my poor laptop while writing this.