#the ones with the handsome dark haired men yes ahem

[basiatlu]

Day 27: Costume

Pansy and Hermione decide to set up our boys in a special couple’s costume for the Halloween party - unbeknownst to them, of course.

[sebarial-the-economist]

Lines from the Words of Radiance chasm sequence that made me think I was reading a bodice ripper romance ahem different genre:

They range in intensity from "yeah that belongs in a romance" to "out of context that sentence would not be safe for work" to "I cannot believe Sanderson wrote that"

She looked disheveled, her blue dress scuffed and her hair a mess

He stared into her eyes. So intense. She felt a shiver meeting that expression. This was a man of passion.

She stumbled toward him in the darkness

She turned back to him, then looked down. Inadvertently, he’d grabbed her by the safehand. He let go immediately.

I doubt you’d look good in the traditional short trousers and open vest. Or, rather, you’d probably look too good. It might be a little distracting for the other bridgemen.

“Storms,” Kaladin said. “You’re not drawing a picture of you wearing one of those outfits . . .”

“Yes, of course,” she said. “I’m drawing salacious pictures of myself for you after only a few hours together in the chasm.” She scratched at a line. “You have quite the imagination, bridgeboy.”

She sat up and stretched sore limbs, checking to make sure her sleeve hadn’t come unbuttoned in the night or anything equally embarrassing.

She blushed deeply.

There was a sort of rugged handsomeness to the fellow. Like the beauty of a natural rock formation

But Kaladin’s intensity, that frightened her.

This bridgeman was proving himself different. The way he watched her, the way he thought.

Perhaps she should spend as much time wondering about this man’s motives as he apparently fretted about hers.

Why did he lose control when talking with her?

She sat back on her knees, holding up her sketch. She brushed aside an unruly lock of red hair.

Well, onward, then.” She took a deep breath. “Through soreness and exhaustion we go. You wouldn’t be willing to carry me a little ways . . .” He glared at her. She shrugged with a smile. “Think how grand it would be! I could even get a reed to whip you with.

"when we get out, everyone will cheer me for being a hero for rescuing you.” “Better,” Shallan said. “Except for the fact that I do believe that I am the one rescuing you.”

Shallan smiled, and they continued on, keeping a brisk pace. “I am glad we’re down here,” she said, “because by now, Adolin will be worried sick about me—so when we get back, he’ll be ecstatic. He might even let me kiss him in public.” Adolin. Right. That dampened his mood.

He whipped Shallan in front of him and thrust her into a fissure in the wall.

The chasm fell silent. Kaladin could hear only Shallan’s panting and his own heartbeat.

Slowly, Kaladin twisted about, putting his back to Shallan. She held him from behind, and he could feel her tremble. Stormfather. He trembled himself.

He was suddenly aware of her pressed against his back. Holding him, breath warm on his neck. She trembled, and he thought he could hear in her voice both terror and fascination at their situation.

He clung to Shallan, but their wet hands started to slip.

Kaladin pulled against the wall of the alcove, his injured leg smarting like nothing else, Shallan clinging to him. She was a warmth in his arms, and he held to her as much as she did him

He continued on, talking of his days as a slave, of his attempts to escape. Of the men he’d gotten killed for trusting him. It gushed from him, a story he’d never told.

When he finished, they both let the silence settle on them, and shared warmth. (This makes it on the list for what it sounds like, but even more importantly it comes from a place of emotional intimacy after he bared his soul to her)

Kaladin looked toward her. In a flash of light, he saw her eyes as she looked up from where her head had been resting against his chest, beads of water on her eyelashes. With his hands around her waist, hers around him, it was as close as he’d held a woman since Tarah.

“And so,” she continued, pressing her head back against his chest

For now, he wanted to think—though he was still glad for her presence. And aware of it in more ways than one, pushed against him and wearing the wet, increasingly tattered dress.

He shifted to move to climb down, but realized that Shallan, curled up against him, had fallen asleep.

This list is incomplete because at least half of the lines in the chasm sequence are open flirting and also I didn't include all of the mentions of Shallan’s dress tearing (or of her removing parts of it to make bandages). And all the blushing.

[ramayantika]

Namaste hello inspired from @navaratna gothic romance mood board I got an idea to form a story. *fingers crossed that this turns out to be good one*

A/N: This story contains pieces of odia royal history too. Gajapatis, Routray, Kataka and Udaygiri are all taken from Odia history. And yeah this might turn super cliche too so be prepared. Also this is dialouge heavy but it will get better with time.

Ahem ahem presenting

Ch-1: History project, Old mansion and Horror stories

"And then Nandini transforms into her real form as the witch of Kedargaon. She bares her teeth and with her long nails tears open the chests of her victims who in this case were her friends," said Sonalika, her voice low and raspy to create an eerie ambience in her bedroom. 

"Bas ho gaya. If you narrate another horror story, I will take the next train home. Yaar aaj mereko hanuman chalisa lagake sona padega," said a visibly terrified Anika, clutching the purple bed sheet tightly in her fist. "Since when did you get so involved in haunted places and creepy stories?"

Sonalika laughed and flicked a stray hair strand away from her cheek. "I was secretly obsessed with them since school time and it's now that you get to know about this. Also, did I ever mention my supposedly haunted mansion?"

Sonalika was the descendant of the Routray dynasty who once ruled Kalinga, now presently called Odisha. The Routrays were celebrated kings under whom art, culture and military flourished. Among the east Indian dynasties, it was said that the Routrays possessed the best army. 

Anika frowned and looked at her friend. "Why is it that all the haunted places are large bungalows and mansions? I don't see ghosts lurking in huts. But anyway, tell me about your mansion and I hope there isn't a very dark story behind the haunting."

"It's a love story, my friend." Sonalika smiled and sat up on the bed, her head against the headboard. "Our history books never recorded this incident. We, the Routrays, lived in Udayagiri where my haunted mansion still exists. Later, after one incident which I shall tell you in the story after some time, we moved to Katak and shifted our capital there. You can even look up about the Udayagiri mansion on the internet though there are many rumours and tales about the palace saying that there was a tantrik who practiced black magic and had cursed the dynasty to leave the place."

"But your mansion is well decorated and maintained. It doesn't look like a haunted place at all. If I am not wrong, a part of it is also a heritage hotel," said Anika.

"Yes, it's true. A part of it is a heritage hotel. That part was later renovated and maintained. The palace stretches over the entire Udayagiri hill. The heritage hotel is over the east side of the hill while the west side is in ruins. It is now a hot spot for paranormal investigators and young teens who want something adventurous."

Anika slid down the mattress and rested her head on the pillow, covering almost her entire body except her face, and said, "Tell me the story now."

"It was my dadi who told me this story who herself heard it from her mother. Generations ago, when the Routrays lived in the Udayagiri mansion, a handsome prince was born to them who was named Kavindra. His older brother, by two years, was Ravindra. The kingdom rejoiced on the birth of both the boys. Both the boys grew up to be fine men. They were trained in weaponry and holy texts by a famous guru. The people loved both the princes. 

The second prince, Kavindra was attending a court meeting with his father and older brother when it was announced that a young veena player would grace the court after the meeting. The Routrays were the biggest patrons of the arts and always encouraged young artists. Kavindra enjoyed music the most and was looking forward to listening to some melodious music of the veena." Sonalika turned her body towards her friend, keeping a hand under her head, continued with a smile, "Little did he know that he would lose his heart to the veena player."

Anika removed some of the bedsheet from her body. "This sounds like those romance books you know. Prince falling in love with an artist and all that. What was the name of the veena player?"

"Eager I see," Sonalika chuckled. "Okay, so the name of the Veena player was Ragavathi. Beautiful name isn't it? Just like her beautiful name, she played the veena beautifully too. Her debut performance was at the court where she had enthralled everyone present there. Turns out that everything was beautiful about her. Her name, her music and her looks. The young prince's heart skipped a beat when he saw how the young lady smiled shyly at her audience before playing the veena. Later he was mesmerized when he saw her getting lost in the music she played on her instrument. By the time she left the court, she had taken a part of the prince's heart with her. She was then asked to perform for a big festival in the kingdom. Kavindra was ecstatic to hear that, and secretly hoped to steal some time and strike a conversation with her. Now, my friend, guess what happened next?"

"Kahani bata na tu yeh suspense nahi badha," said Anika, a frown adorning her forehead. 

"Haan thik hai bata rahi hu. The festival takes place and our Ragavathi gives a brilliant show. Lucky for the prince, for he sneaked out from the company of his family and friends and walked to her to compliment her performance leading to a blossoming friendship. The king being highly impressed with Ragavathi often called her to the court to perform. Kavindra and she would then discreetly meet in the palace after her performance. Kavindra soon began to fall in love with her and so did Ragavathi, but they never brought up the topic of love during their conversation." Sonalika pressed her lips into a thin line. "And this is where the tragic part starts." 

Anika opened the window behind her letting some of the nightly breeze in and sighed, waiting for her friend to continue the story. 

"Months passed by. The prince was deeply in love with her. Sure, she was beautiful, but it was her music, her words and her thoughts that made her fall for her more. Being in the arts, she naturally possessed a very creative mind. She would show some of her own compositions to him and tell him about her ideas. She was also a very compassionate lady. Ragavathi too had fallen for the prince. But like every famous love story where the protagonists won't tell their feelings to their partners, our prince and veena player too did the same. One day, there was a huge birthday celebration for the eldest prince, Ravindra. Naturally, Ragavathi was also called to perform. But someone had casted an evil eye on the family. That day, their rival kingdom with some traitors in the Routray family lit the palace on fire. The celebration was taking place on the west side of the palace where even the royal family was present. It was a sudden fire and everybody panicked. The soldiers were helping the royal Family to escape first, but they stepped back and asked them to save the other commoners and guests first. They thought that it was an accidental fire, but it was a deadly ploy. The rival kingdom had sent soldiers to finish off the royal family in case they escaped the fire. The king and queen were shot dead with arrows. Ravindra had gone to help the women and children escape the fire and the soldiers. Kavindra went to find Ragavathi but somehow she was already escorted out of the palace by a soldier. Her veena burnt in the palace fire. The prince did not know that she was safe so he went to search for her desperately. But, fate did not support him and he was soon surrounded by soldiers of the enemy kingdom. He put up a brave-"

Anika interrupted her. "Wait. Don't tell me that the prince died."

"Sssh." Sonalika placed a finger over her lips. "Now this is a real story so I don't get to change the plot. He put up a brave fight but one man cannot win against five men so he was killed. By the end only, Ravindra survived with a handful of the noblemen. They then shifted to Kataka. Ravindra was made the king. He then married someone and the progeny of the Routrays continued."

"What happened to Ragavathi?" Anika asked with a sad pout. 

Shrugging her shoulders, her friend replied, "Some say that she married someone later. She must have had a broken heart when she got to know that the prince was dead. However, she continued her life and music in Katak."

"And what about the haunting?"

"So many people died that day, but it is only the prince who haunts that side of the palace. I have read on a few blogs where people have posted saying they heard a manly voice cry at night and the sound of some notes on a veena. People say that the ghost has never troubled anyone but the sounds of him crying and the veena definitely spook them out. Some say that since the prince's love was incomplete he haunts the palace hoping for Ragavathi to come."

Both the friends then grew silent. Anika looked at the ceiling. She arrived in Cuttack, previously called Katak today morning. She was a history student at Ravenshaw University and had a project for her second semester. She had to present the culture and history of any kingdom from any part of India. She had a hard time deciding which dynasty she would work upon for she was searching for a dynasty that wasn't mentioned much in history yet had good amount of information on them. 

An idea clicked her. Immediately she turned towards Sonalika. 

"You remember I was telling you about my history project for college. I think I will do it on the Routray dynasty. I was thinking of doing the Gajapatis but they are already well known. Will you help me?" asked Anika. 

Sonalika nodded her head excitedly, "Of course I will. You are my friend and also a project on my dynasty. Why will I refuse? Since I am the descendant of the Routrays, I can even take you the palace, the heritage hotel one. There is a lot of stuff there which I believe will help you."

"Thank you so much Sona. You are the best." Anika hugged her tightly. She was happy to gain access to the heritage hotel side, but her mind wavered to the west side of the palace. For some unknown reason, she wanted to look at the ruined palace. 

"Chal ab sone ja. I will tell Maa and Bapa tomorrow in the morning about your project. They can also share some things relevant for your work and we will go to the palace right after breakfast. 

Anika smiled and pulled the bed sheet over her face, excited for tomorrow. But little did she know that she was going to discover a lot more information about herself. 

***

Tagging the peeps: @ma-douce-souffrance navu you are already tagged and @rasode-waala-cooker (okay tumblr tag nahi krne de rha :(

[limerental]

ficletober day 3 - philippa/dijkstra

Busy pulling strings in Redania from the shadows, Philippa Eilhart receives a visit from a promising young spy. content warning for canon-typical Philippa Eilhart and grooming of teenaged boys with referenced/implied underage sex. Takes place ~30 years before the events of the saga with some fudged details about Redanian kings and politics. Given who Philippa is, I like to think it's pretty likely she was the one who originally recruited Dijkstra to the intelligence service and also given who she is, she was probably a little bit yucky about it

The boy planted both his hands on his knees, still huffing and puffing from his less than coordinated clamber up the trellis outside her window. She didn't bother to tell him he could have come in through the servant's door. Things were more amusing this way.

He was a clever lad and tripped over himself to bring her anything she needed, which these days was the comings and goings of the Academy, where one political unrest or another always seemed to be brewing.

But she had some suspicions that he withheld details here and there, simply so he had another reason to visit her the next night.

"You have news then?"

The boy straightened up, his breath finally returned to him. To her surprise, he had managed to hit another growth spurt, towering like a gawky gargoyle before her. He was certainly no looker and never would be. Not yet seventeen and his dark hair had already receded well past his temples.

"The Master Troy has taken a leave of absence. But some say he may not return for the next semester."

"Yes? And?"

"There's word that his retirement may not be wholly his idea."

Philippa sighed. She poured herself another few fingers of dark liquor and watched the boy follow her hands with his pale eyes. He was clearly hopeful that she would pour him a glass as well, ask him to sit in the high-backed chair beside her.

She did neither.

"Of course it's not his idea. He's an ancient old bat who still claims the sun circles around us and that we descended from amphibians. The Academy has wanted him out for years."

"Ahem," said the boy. "I only thought… I thought you might want me to figure out who wants him gone. Like with Vysogota of Corvo. He was officially exiled for religious heresy but less officially–"

"How old were you when he was exiled, boy?"

His cheeks pinked. He hadn't been born yet.

Under the aging rule of King Radovid IV, father to the present King Heribert, some poor sod was exiled once a week to appease one interest group or another.  The winds of the Redanian court had blown to and fro more times than she could count. At the moment, King Heribert was publicly wary and derisive of mages and spies but privately unwilling to dismiss them. 

Her doe-eyed young prince Vizimir showed far more promise. In a few years, Philippa imagined he would grow into a handsome, level-headed young man. Level-headed enough not to forget the rewards of allowing her and her agents influence over him.

"Thank you for the report," said Philippa. "But I'd prefer you leave any speculation to me, boy. You're still only seeing half the picture. Manuscripts and boring old professors can only teach so much. When's your graduation again?"

"This winter."

"Early?"

The boy's grin was full of crooked teeth. 

"Top of my class," he said with arrogance. Philippa did not bother to dissuade it, not yet. If all went well, she knew he would become a terrifying force for the Redanian Secret Service someday, and one needed a certain smug confidence to clash with kings and dissidents and uglier characters than that.

"Come here," said Philippa, and the boy visibly brightened with eagerness. At least, visibly to her, who had learned to read the slightest twitch of a man's face and glean his emotional state. 

Most men were too proud of the piddling things they felt and thought to learn to conceal them. Even a subjugated peasant man was likely to believe that his dopey ruminations meant something and mattered more than the mud and piss he slogged through.

Women, thought Philippa, will inherit all of this some day. And the men will not even wake from smug daydreams of their own importance long enough to realize.

The boy's expression barely shifted, and he did not move too swiftly. Admiring his subtlety, Philippa kicked off her heels and propped her legs up on the arm of the chair beside her. She watched the boy follow the curve of her long legs, limned in bronze light from the fireplace. "Well? Sit. They won't rub themselves."

"Yes, Madam Philippa."

The boy sat and took her feet into his lap, his clever thumbs pressing into the taut ache of her arches. He had nice hands. Big and smooth-palmed and exacting in the pressure they applied.

Perhaps after a bit more to drink, she would teach him a thing or two about using them in other ways.

"Sigismund," she said and touched the crown of his head. His hair there was soft and thin. "Pour yourself a glass. No, not so little. We're celebrating your graduation. And don't stop the rest in the meantime."

Dijkstra ducked his head to hide the burn of his cheeks and managed not to choke on the deep swallows of liquor. His fingers dug with surety into the meat of Philippa's heels.

[whatislove-bambi]

Oops... (I Love You)!

Snow White AU

Summary: Taehyung is the fairest of them all in the Land of Fairytales. He’s tall, handsome and his features make even the Goddess of Love swoon. His best friend (his mirror), tells him day in and out just how he is the most beautiful in all the Lands… until today.

+++

Or how Seokjin has had enough of Taehyung’s vain ass and decides to tell a - in hindsight - terrible lie. How then Jin realizes he effed up because Taehyung is going to murder an innocent person for their beauty…

_______________________________________________

Pairing: Taehyung/Reader

Genre: angst, fantasy, fluff, crack?, smut

Contents/Warnings: smut!, strangers to lovers, enemies(?) to lovers, magic gone wrong, Big Dick Tae, evil!Tae, lowkey possessive!Tae, impregnation kink, soft!Tae, cunnilingus, fingering, breath play, dry humping, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play (tiny), underwear kink, huge amounts of cum, fairytale happenings

Words: 19k. 

_______________________________________________

We begin our story in the Land of Fairytales.

The land is rich with green and wealth, the inhabitants healthy and happy. Their ruler is a beautiful one. Tall, handsome, features chiseled so well that even the Gods and Goddess’ swoon when they see him.

His name is Kim Taehyung, the sole heir to the throne by his passing parents, the previous King and Queen of the land. You see, before they passed, they had urged him to find a suitable lover to marry, but Taehyung was stubborn. No one could meet his expectations - no one could rival his beauty. And so, his parents eventually gave up the notion of their son ever marrying, leaving him the only ruler and heir of the kingdom.

Taehyung didn’t have many friends either, always looking down on them and barking orders when neighbouring princes or princesses tried to make his cold heart melt.

Nonetheless, this did not faze Taehyung. All he needed was himself, his beauty, and his magic mirror.

But like every fairytale, we begin happily only to come upon a conflict for our handsome ruler.

+++

The room was white: walls, ceiling, even the stained glass only filtered in light that made the room brighter — whiter.

Taehyung walked up the steps leading him to his most prized and loved object of all.

Seeing his face reflected back at him, he smirked cockily before speaking, “oh mirror of great wisdom and insight, I summon thee!”

Alright, here we go.

Jin wasn’t sure how long it’s been since he’s been cursed. Cursed to be a stupid mirror… or stuck inside one. Anyways.  

Sighing, his face appeared in the reflective surface, meeting the gaze of his only companion in all the years he’s been isolated - until precisely some years ago, when Taehyung was exploring a cave and found Jin’s mirror hidden away with other jewels and gold. But the young heir only had eyes for him, so he plucked him up and now here he hangs, alone and covered in bright light until he is needed or summoned for the King’s daily dose of narcissism.

“Yes, O’ Great One, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Jin asks, sarcasm heavily lacing his tone.

Taehyung lifts a thick eyebrow, but makes no remarks. “How is that nearby Prince doing?”

“You mean Prince Jimin?”

“Yes, that prick.”

Jin scoffs. “He isn’t a prick. He’s a real nice guy, gave a bunch of money to a poor village down by the Island of the Mere.”

Taehyung wasn’t even listening - this brat!

Said King, was examining his nails, a bored expression on his handsome face. God, how Jin could stare all day at it and still want to claw his eyes out at the same time.

“Ahem,” Jin hisses, narrowing his eyes at the younger man.

Taehyung flicked his gaze upward disinterestedly. Running a hand through his newly permed, black locks, he rotated his shoulder blades back to release tension in his muscles. “Right. So… mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”

Jin crossed his arms, his patience thinning. Okay, so he was cursed like lifetimes ago and was trapped inside a mirror. He only had his own thoughts to keep him company until someone found his mirror and someone always found it. But once Jin appeared to greet them, they all freaked out and threw his mirror back in the trash. Until Taehyung. Which is why he tries to have never-ending patience and tolerance for this punk.

Taehyung had found him before the previous Royal rulers’ passing. He was still young, still cocky, but there was something sad and melancholic to him. He was exploring and upon finding the mirror, Taehyung fell in love and decided to keep it. When Jin appeared to him, Taehyung didn’t scream or run or throw the mirror out, instead, he sat down and talked with him. The first person to speak to Jin in years - lifetimes.

So while Jin finds certain personality quirks of the present King to be irritating, he is also fond of the poor man. After all, it must be pretty awful to be trapped within the castle walls, refusing to let down both his, figurative and actual walls and live life; only believing himself to be the most wonderful of them all.

“Are you deaf? I asked you a question,” Taehyung snaps.

Jin’s smile slips and he feels annoyance bubble.

Okay, screw it, fucking Kim Taehyung.

“What was your question again—“

“Who is the fairest of them all?” Taehyung cuts off bluntly.

Jin takes a deep breath, unable to hide his growing frustration. Technically there is no one who is fairest of them all. Sure, fair there are plenty, but the only one? That’s crazy talk! And Jin is stuck in a goddamn’ mirror! How he wishes to be able to make said man’s facade break - even for a moment…

An idea flashes into his mind and he grins deviously.

Clearing his throat, he puts on his best theatric voice. “Famed is thy beauty, King. But hold, a lovely maid I see. Rags cannot hide her gentle grace. Alas,” Jin searches until finally, finally he finds the perfect one for his perfect plan. “she is more fair than thee.”

It is so satisfying to see Taehyung’s stoic face crack. Something flickers in his eyes, his lips curling downwards in distaste and he crosses his arms like a petulant child.

Jin brings a hand over his mouth to cover the smile from forming. This is the best prank yet!

“Alas for her,” Taehyung all but growls, his deep voice suddenly deeper. “Reveal her name.”

Jin clears his throat, putting forth the act once more. “Lips red as rose. Hair black as ebony. Skin white as snow. Her name is Y/N.”

Taehyung’s gaze hardens if possible. “Who is she?”

Jin waves his hand nonchalantly and the image appears before the King.

Okay, her lips are not red as rose, in fact, they’re kinda chapped from how she keeps biting them in frustration, trying to scrub a stain off a dirtied plate. Her dark hair is pulled up and her skin is glistening with sweat and washing water, nowhere near as white as snow. But she’ll do - at least until Jin can tell Taehyung it’s just a silly joke and that she’s a peasant who doesn’t mean much.

She’s young, likely around Taehyung’s age, but unlike the royal highness’ luxurious beauty, she’s got her arms, elbow-deep, inside a wash basin, cleaning up dirty plates, the dirty water splashing onto her soiled apron.

Really, if Taehyung was smart, he’d notice she’s nothing like what Jin had said. But Taehyung is blinded by rage, something that Jin misses.

A moment of tense silence passes before —

“T-this wench is the fairest of them all?!” Taehyung roars.

Jin jumps. Oh wait, shit, why is he so mad?

“I will have her murdered.”

Jin’s jaw drops, unable to hold his horror. “W-wait, Your Majesty - I - this —“

But Taehyung has already turned, his deep blue robes swirling around him as he angrily marches out of the room, the heavy doors slamming shut behind him.

Jin stares, unable to understand what truly just happened. “Oh… what have I done?”

***

Sighing, you place the last of the clean dishes back on their shelves, taking off the disgusting apron and throwing it in the dirty hamper.

“You off for the night, Y/N?” your coworker asks, untying her apron hurriedly.

“Mhm, too tired to do anything else.”

“Wish I could say the same. I have to get home to the kids - the husband will want some quality time together after dinner.”

You chuckle, helping her untie and toss the soiled piece into the hamper as well.

“That sounds like fun.”

“Which is why you, my dear, should get yourself a husband already! The oven doesn’t stay hot forever you know! Get the buns in there while it’s still fresh.”

Your face burns at the comment and you swat at her arm. “Stop it,” you whine.

“Come, let’s walk home together.”

Despite still being embarrassed, you let her drag you from the tiny tavern, bidding your boss goodnight.

***

Stepping out of the tub, you run a towel through your damp hair, your other hand reaching up to swipe a line through the steam in your mirror.

“Which is why you, my dear, should find yourself a husband already!”

You make a face, grabbing a nearby hairbrush to get the knots out. “Who needs a husband,” you mumble. “Men are all trouble…”

“Amen to that, my dear.”

Suddenly, a face appears in your mirror. A handsome face. With eyes that glisten and a smile that should get a million hearts fluttering, but you - you are terrified.

“Holy shit!” you scream, shooting backwards, as far away as you can from the cursed object. You throw your brush at it, watching it bounce off the glass, before searching for something heavier.

“W-WAIT! Wait!” the man shouts, from your mirror. “I come in peace!”

You grip the towel around you tightly, staring at the face before you, your heart thundering.

“Let me not be so in your face,” he chuckles at his own joke, before suddenly, it’s like camera lens, his face is now zoomed out and you see the rest of him. He’s wearing clothes that look royal, a white button-up tucked into dark slacks. “Much better. My name is Seokjin, but you can call me Jin. I am here to protect you—“

“Who the hell are you,” you continue to scream, grabbing the dropped hairbrush as your defensive weapon. “What are you doing in my mirror!?”

Jin frowns at you, clearly annoyed at you interrupting him. “First of all - I said my name is Jin. Jeez, youngsters these days just don’t listen,” he mumbles annoyedly. “Secondly, I can explain that if you just calm down… okay? Just put down the hair tool… there, you go, now take a few deep breaths…”

You do as you’re told before you step cautiously towards the mirror.

“I am here to help you - kind of like a guardian angel. You see, the King of this Land, he’s enraged with you.”

You tilt your head, frowning. “Why? I’ve never even met the guy. Ever since his parent’s passing, he’s been cooped up inside his luxurious castle. He doesn’t even show his face at the annual festivals - how could I have enraged him?”

“The King is very… adamant on being the most fairest of them all. And someone,” Jin clears his throat. “Let it slip that it’s you. So he’s going to murder you now.”

Your eyes widen and Jin paces in his space, a pensive look on his face. “But I searched throughout the Land and there’s a cabin not too far from here, uninhabited and spacious enough for you. You could farm the nearby crops, survive there until the King’s delusions are set aside and then—“

A sound cuts Jin off, making his head snap to the side.

Your head is bent forward, face hidden from view. Your shoulders shake and tiny chokes leave you.

Were you crying? Panic seized his heart suddenly.

“L-Listen — I know it looks bad, but I assure you, I will keep you safe—“

Until the noise turned into a snort and then a full on guffaw.

“Oh by the gods,” you gasp, breathlessly. “I’m so tired, I’m imagining things. A talking mirror, the King wanting to murder me - for being the most beautiful in the Land? Ha! This is — it’s crazy! Come on, Y/N, you are so tired that you’re making all this stuff up. Just crazy.”

Jin stares in bewilderment as you leave your bathroom, the door slamming shut behind you, shrouding him in darkness. “Wait! Y/N! Y/N! This isn’t a joke - you’re going to die! He’s got a huntsman coming to kill you!”

You huff, quickly drying your damp hair and drowning out your delusions. “Don’t you worry, Y/N, after a good night’s sleep, you’ll be back to normal.”

And with that thought, you jumped into bed and slept soundly soon after.

+++

You arrived at work a little earlier since you were opening the tavern. Slipping into your uniform easily, you start unstacking the chairs, before grabbing a rag to wipe down any uncleanly surfaces.

First the counter, then polishing overnight glasses, pairing cutlery and napkins, all the while, humming around the room. Your last task is to wipe down the mirrors in the diner’s restroom, catching a glimpse of your reflection now that you were almost done your morning tasks.

You hadn’t thought about last night’s events at all, at least not until now. Your reflection shoots back a smile and you chuckle. Who knew you had such an imagination?

“He’s got a huntsman coming to kill you!” Jin’s voice echoed in your head, freezing your smile in its place.

Snapping out of your reverie, you shake your head, giving yourself a reassuring nod. “Don’t be silly, Y/N. The King would want nothing with a peasant…” You sigh forlornly, your reflection no longer beaming back at you. You wanted more from this life - more than just a measly wage from wiping down tables and serving drunk pirates or hidden princes and princesses who thought their disguises were actually stealthy.  

Sighing, you turn around, ready to leave the restroom. Not everyone got a fairytale ending, you think bitterly.

However, you fail to notice a pair of eyes watching you.

***

It’s not long after that, that your colleague of the morning shows up, waving you a tired hand as they go to start filling up the alcohol.

Shortly after turning over the sign to “OPEN,” people start entering. It’s a bustling morning, like it usually is.

“Y/N, drinks for the miner!”

“More meat over here!”

“How’ya doin’ doll?”  

“Refills, Y/N!”

The day never stopped. You groaned as you handed out your umpteenth food plate of the morning and poured your millionth cup of stale beer. Sparing a glance at the clock, your eyes lit up. It was break time.

Waving three fingers in the air at the barkeeper, the woman nodded in acknowledgement, before you grabbed something to drink and eat, taking a table closest to the back of the tavern. Here it was less crowded and more quiet, letting you have some alone time.

You take a seat and watch the people around.

Your life was rarely different, always the same things. You wake up, go to work, come home, make dinner, clean, go to sleep. Repeat.

Unconsciously frowning, you stir the straw in your drink. Life was, for a lack of better word, mundane. You didn’t have many friends, just a select few and all from work. They were either much older or younger and no one really near or around your age.

I need some adventure, you think, propping your chin on your hand as you look out the window at the bustling streets.

Suddenly, someone slides into the seat across from you. You stop slurping and stare, eyes wide with surprise.

“Hello,” the newcomer grins, brown hair tousled ever-so-slightly over large, doe-like eyes. He’s grinning at you, looking boyish and handsome.

You blink owlishly, pointing at yourself. “Are you talking to me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?” he laughs.

“Oh - if you’re looking for a waitress, I’m on a break. But the other girls can help you,” you supply. You already regretting talking to him. You only have fifteen minutes every three hours and you didn’t want to waste it on this, no matter how good looking he is.

“Actually,” he begins, his grin faltering as he rubs the back of his neck. “I wanted to talk to you, personally. My name’s JK and I think you’re really pretty… do you, um, maybe want to go out sometime?”

Now, you’ve been asked out a couple times before - but certainly never from someone so attractive. Definitely not someone this polite and gentle in courting you. Your mind is reeling at the confession and you just stare at him, speechless.

“M-me?” you ask again, your voice coming out in a whisper.

He laughs, this time showing his teeth and you like his smile. “Yes. I mean, don’t feel pressured to. I just… you’re really pretty and I’m insanely shy so…”

“Sure!” You blurt, before you begin to second-guess and doubt yourself. Your heart flips at the way JK’s smile lights up even more.  

“When’s a good time for you?”

“I, uh, well… I don’t get off until tonight. Actually, I’m working all week,” you frown, rattling off the schedule in your head.

“How ‘bout tonight?”

That catches you by surprise. “Tonight?”

“Yeah! If it’s not too forward…”

Well… it is. But weren’t you just complaining about adventure earlier? I mean - come on, this guy’s cute! And he likes you!!

Taking a leap of faith, you give in. “Sure! I’m closing the tavern tonight,” you nervously fiddle with your fingers. “Would you be alright to meet me at the back?”

JK chuckles, leaning back and tossing you another boyish smile. “Are you kidding? A girl like you just said yes - of course, I’m not going to care.”

Now, if you were smart and cautious, you would know it doesn’t make sense that a random stranger just came up to you and asked you out abruptly. But you’ve been alone your whole life and no one to teach you about the evils in this world - naivety rolled off of you in waves. You wanted adventure - damn’t! And adventure you were going to get!

“I will see you when the sun sets!”

JK grins, his doe eyes flashing almost predatorily. “Of course, Y/N.”

You beam, going back to your drink with a bright smile while JK waves at you as he leaves the tavern.

You miss two things: one, he never even ordered anything on his way in or out.

Two, you never told him your name to begin with.

***

Stepping out of the empty tavern, you lock up and tuck the keys away into your worn-out bag. Turning around, you face the emptied backlot, confusion on your face. Where’s JK?

“Aren’t you eager.” The voice startles you and you whip around, facing the handsome man with the boyish face and the large, doe-like eyes.

He has a knack of taking you by surprise!

“Ha… you scared me!” JK doesn’t react, only continues to smile at you and you shiver…  from the cold?

“So… where would you like to go?”

Again, JK doesn’t respond. In fact, he merely stands where he is, continually smiling at you.

As naive as you are, you begin to feel uneasy. A moment passes, then another and another. Still, JK doesn’t move from his spot.

“Y/N, you really are quite beautiful.”

You swallow. “O-oh? Is that so? Thank—“

“It’s a shame the King wants you dead.”

Your eyes widen and in that moment, the situation clicks. How stupid you are.

Spinning on your heels, you turn to run, but pain erupts in your skull as you realize JK has grabbed a handful of your hair and is now tugging you back towards him.

“Uh, uh,” he tuts, like he’s talking to a disobedient child. “Stay still. This will be painless if you don’t fight it.”

Adrenaline courses through your veins and you hear your blood pumping loudly. Without thinking, you spin around and bring your leg up, kicking JK in the crotch, catching him off guard. He groans, loosening his grip on you ever so slightly. That’s all you need - you pull free from him and bringing your hand up, punch him in the throat with all your might. A splutter from said man and then you’re sprinting into the woods - hoping to put as much distance between you and him as possible.  

Your soles hit the ground and tree branches blur past you. Your breath is coming out in huffs, it’s getting dark and you’re alone. Footsteps are heard behind you and sparing a glance, your eyes widen at seeing JK’s looming figure catching speed with you. He’s absolutely terrifying in this moment.

Diving sideways, you manage to roll down a hill, groaning as you hit the flat surface of dirt. Sitting up, you gaze up to see JK glaring down at you from the ledge you fell. It’s too slippery for him to slide down without hurting himself, and he knows this. His gaze lands on a trail just off to the side. You watch in horror as he sprints towards it. Staggering up on wobbly legs, you gaze around — exit — I need an exit!

“Y/N! Y/N! I can help!” You look down and notice your bag on the ground, the contents spilled out. One of them is your compact mirror - which has Jin staring back at you! Feeling a wave of slight relief, you grab the mirror and despite the pain and your forgotten items, you race through the thicket of bushes and trees.

“Jin - tell me I’m dreaming, because right now I’m being chased by a serial killer,” you hiss, trying to keep your voice low as you duck just beneath a protruding branch.

“I would love to tell you that - but unfortunately it’s the truth. The King hired a trained huntsman to track you down to kill.”

“How are you so calm about all this?”

“I’m trying to figure out a way to save you,” Jin huffs.

“Please think faster - I don’t think I can continue like this anymore,” you hiss, noticing you are now deeper into the woods than you were before. Deeper and even more lost.

“I have an idea,” Jin pipes up.

You quickly and quietly crouch behind a few shrubs, hiding yourself and holding the mirror close to you. It’s terrifyingly quiet and you’re afraid to look up in fear that JK is looming over you, ready to strike. But you’re certain he’s nowhere near you yet, he had to round the ledge that you rolled down and that would’ve given you enough time to hide.

“Shh! I hear him,” you whisper, quietly placing the mirror on the dirt floor as you press yourself closer and closer into the shrub.

With bated breath, you hear him. Your heart is hammering loudly in your chest, so loud that you’re fearful he can hear and find you. The sound of his footsteps coming closer as he crunches nearby twigs and leaves.

“Y/N, if you come out now, I’ll make it painless and quick. I’m sorry for your fate, but the King has ordered it. You have nowhere else you can run.” It’s said matter-of-factly, but you notice how JK has the decency to sound… guilty?

Jin looks just as terrified as you. Though for him, it’s because he’s the whole reason this situation is unfolding and guilt is killing him slowly. He can’t let you just die - not because of Taehyung’s reckless and impulsive decision!

Due to his self berating, he misses you grabbing a nearby tree branch. You just needed one, clear shot and JK would go down - just enough for you to run to safety.

You slowly stand, holding the branch tightly like a baseball bat. One, two, one, two, one, two… you chant inwardly, as JK nears closer and closer to your spot.

Peeking out, you notice that the huntsman has his back turned to your hiding spot. It’s now or never.

Creeping out, you lift the branch up high and bring it down hard onto the back of his head.

You hear the dull thud of the branch meeting his skull and you think you’ve done it, but JK whips around and your eyes widen in fear. JK is stunned from the surprise attack and he clumsily moves back, putting distance between the two of you.

The impact has dizzied his senses and the next thing he knows, he’s slipping on something wet and then down, down he goes…

“Did you kill him!?” Jin’s voice comes from the ground, horrified and freaking out. You quickly drop the branch and look at the crumpled form on the forest floor. Shivering, you press the toe of your shoe into his side - he doesn’t respond.

“I-I don’t know! I didn’t mean to kill him,” you begin to ramble, fear bubbling in a whole new form. “Shit, shit,” you hiss, dropping to your knees as you reach a hand out, trembling fingers resting just centimetres between his philtrum and nostrils.

A shaky moment passes and slowly the tension bleeds from your heart as you feel faint air on your fingertips.

“He’s not dead - knocked out cold, but not dead,” you breathe, relief flooding your entire body. You miss how Jin visibly relaxes from your words.

“C’mon, I know a cabin not too far from here. You can rest there - tomorrow we’ll figure out another plan before the King knows you’ve gotten away,” Jin’s voice sounds so far in your head. He’s talking survival tactics, but all you can do is feel tears fill your eyes.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Pushing the bubbling fear and anxiety down, you go around JK’s unconscious form, hooking your arms around and under his armpits.

“What are you doing?” Jin deadpans.

“Dragging JK to that cabin you’re talking about. We can’t just leave him out here. He’ll definitely die from the cold if we do,” you huff, realizing just how heavy the huntsman is.

“Good luck, he’s built like a rock,” Jin mumbles with an eye roll.

Despite the side comments, Jin directs you to the cabin while you haul JK through the woods. You feel bad for his clothes, they’re smeared with dirt and leaves, but at least you can aid that wound on the back of his head once you get inside.

“Are you sure no one lives here,” you ask, feeling anxious after you’re done settling JK onto the spare bed and treating his wound. Your entire body is sore and your bones are weak due to the exertion.

Jin makes a noncommittal noise, his back turned to you in the mirror as if he’s actually looking around the place.

“Get some rest,” he advises instead, trying to sound calm.

He’s praying that Taehyung will forget.

If Taehyung doesn’t, he will find out and when he does, all hell will break loose.

+++

Now that we’re caught up with the present situation, on with the story.

King Taehyung is pissed to say the least. His mirror hasn’t responded to him since that day, which was well over a week ago. And on top of it all, his huntsman, is nowhere to be found. No news, no pigeon messengers, nothing.

Cursing his bad luck, Taehyung paces back and forth in front of Jin’s mirror, waiting impatiently.

“Jin, show yourself before I break the damn’ thing,” Taehyung hisses.

Rolling his eyes at the bossiness, Jin appears, doing his elegant bow. “Your Majesty.”

“Find me JK.”

Jin tenses immediately.

You see, after the whole JK-trying-to-murder-you incident, he was pretty much blacked out for a couple of days. You treated him as best you could with Jin’s help, but nothing seemed to work.

To make matters worse… the cabin was inhabited.

A druid, ancient and almost like a wood nymph owned the tiny place. The druid looked human, he was very tall and had startlingly blue eyes.

Surprise on everyone’s expressions when he opened the door to his room to find you kneeling by JK’s bed, bandages in one hand and scissors in the other. You were fearful at first, but the druid, who told you his name is Namjoon, helped you and JK, healing him.

He didn’t take lightly to having strangers in his cabin, but knew Jin from a lifetime before and had reluctantly allowed you and JK to stay until he was fully healed.

JK was a different story.

Number one, his name is Jungkook.

Two, he’s an orphan that grew up working as a guard for the former King and Queen before their passing. Afterwards, Taehyung recruited him as a special huntsman for secret tasks. This you all found out once you managed to cuff Jungkook to the bed and get him to spill everything. It wasn’t that hard, once Jungkook saw Jin, he was pretty much willing to explain everything, no detail left out.

Now, back to the problem at hand. Jin had hoped you would be safe and sound. Taehyung would’ve and should’ve forgotten about you after nearly two weeks of silence, but instead, it was like the King’s fury had risen with each passing day.

Looking at him now, Jin could see just how each day had ruined the powerful man bit by bit. His hair was ragged and messy, almost like the King had constantly ran his fingers through it in frustration. His robes were askew, no longer pristine and in place immaculately. His eyes had dark circles and his skin looked a little less than brilliant.

“Must I repeat myself, every single time,” Taehyung’s voice sounds, cold and hollow, shaking Jin from his thoughts. “Where is Jungkook.”

“Don’t you think you’re going about this wrong, Your Grace? Look at it this way - she’s just a peasant. Common, filthy, plain. You are a King - highest of the land—“

“I will not ask again - show me where Jungkook is or I will smash you to pieces.”

Jin’s eyes widen. Never, in all the years of bickering and fighting and constant cat/mouse games, has Taehyung ever threatened him like this.

“No.”

It’s Taehyung’s turn to stare in shock. “No?” he echoes, the bright walls suddenly dimmer around him.

“You can’t just murder someone because you feel inferior to them. What would your mother say?”  

“Silence!” Taehyung roars, angry filling his features darkly. “Do you know who I am?! I am the King - the Fairest of them all - and you dare to tell me, this pathetic, low, peasant girl has upped me? Regardless of your lies, I will see to it that her head is served on a silver platter for you. This will teach you to never lie to your King again.” A mad look takes over his handsome features and Jin feels real fear creep up his spine.

“I won’t let you harm her. She’s done nothing of the sort to deserve it. As your friend—“

A harsh, empty laugh cuts through the room and Jin stops. Taehyung looks like the portrait of crazy at this point.

“Friend? You think that you and I are friends?” The King questions, walking up slowly to the mirror, his blue robes swishing almost predatorily behind him. “You think… a damned soul such as yourself would ever be a friend of mine? No. No, absolutely not. I tolerated you - kept you by my side because you were useful. You showed me what I wanted to see - but you were never and will never be more than an ugly piece of decoration in this kingdom.”

Jin stares, mouth agape in horror and shock and sadness. He wants to tell Taehyung to take it back, to admit that they’re friends, that somewhere in that cold, darkened heart of his, he truly does care about Jin and all that they’ve been through. Jin, who was there for him when Taehyung was a young boy, reckless and immature, selfish and alone.

But no. Alas, Taehyung is resolute in his words. His eyes are hard, mouth set into a firm, grim line. It is time for Jin to face the music.

His hands coil into fists by his side and Jin tries to recompose himself as best he can. To hell with Kim Taehyung. After everything, he’s still a selfish, immature brat. With as much venom as he can muster, Jin sarcastically states his goodbye, trying to ignore the stab of heartbreak in his chest. “Very well, Your Majesty… I shall take my leave. All hail the King.”

Taehyung watches as the mirror dims and then Jin is gone. In his place is his own reflection, a shell of a man staring back at him, hollowed - unhappy. With a roar of anger, Taehyung spins from the throne room, heading straight for the library.

This common peasant has done it again!

Taken his closest confidant away from him. He’ll teach her.

He’ll show her just what happens when you mess with the King.  

Throwing open the doors to his personal library, he pulls books upon books out from their spots. No, no - Taehyung is almost insane. His fingers are trembling and his heart feels tight. He hates this feeling - he hasn’t felt like this since his parents — no.

You must not think of that, he tells himself. It’s weak and sad and he hates that feeling. Finally, his fingers feel the velvet. Pulling the book from its spot, he grins almost maniacally once he sees the cover. An ancient spell book that had been passed down from a witch to his father as a gift many, many years ago. His father had warned him to never use it, to keep it and know its contents, but to never use it, for Magic Always Came with A Price.

Ignoring the blatant warning bells in his mind and the echoes of his father’s words, Taehyung flips the book open, fingers leafing through the pages with speed. He’ll show them all - how he’s not lonely or weak. Kim Taehyung deserves to be king - more than anyone in this forsaken land! He grins, just a tad bit insane.

He finds three spells.

The first is a spell that will create a poison with a very rare antidote, which he creates successfully and dips a few apples inside.

The second is a tracking spell. He’ll find her one way or another.

Lastly, the third is an illusion. He needs something that will garner her attention, something that will probably appeal to her heart. Grinning, he settles for the disguise of an old, frail woman.

After all, horror comes in threes.

“Watch out, Y/N. I’m coming for you,” he cackles.

He recites the spell with some difficulty even after reading it over a dozen times.  

A gust of wind beats violently against the castle walls, the candles flickering. Taehyung closes his eyes, feeling the magic surrounding him, filling him up and stretching him to be what he wants.

Even with his eyes closed, he can picture the young woman that Jin had showed him not too long ago. She’s smiling at a group of children as she handles a brand new pie, straight from the oven in the mirrored image. Taehyung feels emotions boil inside him. Emotions he doesn’t want to think about.

Then the magic is gone.

Opening his eyes, he grins, only to falter when he realizes how tall everything looks. Wait.

He starts to walk towards the mirror again, but instead of moving smoothly, he stumbles and then falls, landing on his face. What the hell?

Pushing himself back up, or at least trying to, Taehyung stares in horror at what he finds.

His arms are short and furry!!

Trembling, he stands, looking down at himself.

Oh no… no, no, no…

Running towards the mirror, he stares and the image that stares back at him is horrifying.

He’s a dog!

A two-toned brown dog, small and furry and cute.

Taehyung groans, the sound coming out in a whimper.

Running back to the spell book, he realizes he mispronounced a word. The pesky Latin!

Well.

Closing his eyes, he tries to steady the anger boiling inside him. Fine. This is fine - he’s fine. He’ll go, find Y/N, get her to eat an apple, poison her, and then he’ll force Jin to transform him back. Jin will have to - especially if he wants the antidote to save his precious Y/N.

Stamping his paw down with as much might as he can, Taehyung grabs onto the stem of one apple, already heading towards the door.

He’ll show them.

He’ll show them all!

***

Jin is tense.

You’re in the garden tending to the vegetables, which means you’re safe. For the time being.

Taehyung is on a crazy spree. Which means, he’s after you and will not let you go until he manages to kill you.

“You know, this is kinda your fault,” Jungkook murmurs, pulling apart some bread and tossing a bite into his mouth. “If you didn’t mess with him, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Eat with your mouth closed,” Jin scolds from his spot on the dining table. Namjoon is pretending to not hear them, continually tweaking away at his mini bonsai plant.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and takes another bite of the bread. He’s almost healed now, but he’s decided to stay behind and watch over you. You did save his life after all, even though it was his fault in the first place.

After waking up and finding himself in an unfamiliar place and in immense pain, Jungkook knew it was time to reevaluate his life choices. Thus, here he was, swearing his loyalty to you.

“Seokjin, why do you keep pacing?” Namjoon wonders, standing straight and towering over the small mirror. The compact was left for travelling and now, Jin resided in a medium sized mirror that was toted around the small cabin wherever one of the three habitants would be.

“I keep pacing because I’m worried. You didn’t see him - Taehyung looked mad. Worse than the Mad Hatter!”

“Heh. Hasn’t he always been, though? Ever since the funeral, he’s been spiralling… not to mention, he keeps talking about absorbing more magic and whatnot,” Jungkook talks absently, reaching for another piece of bread.

Jin stops pacing, head whipping to face the younger male. “What - magic? You mean, Taehyung was looking into getting more magic?”

The huntsman nods. “Mm. He was constantly mumbling to himself about a magical book that could grant him whatever he wanted and keep him youthful forever. You know, typical evil talk.”

At this point, Namjoon looks up from his plant, furrowed eyebrows in the huntsman’s direction. “How are you not more… alarmed?”

“I was. I think I still am. It’s just my defence mechanism. You know, dealing with the whole, I-could’ve-died thing.”

Namjoon nods understandingly.

“If he found the book though, that means he’s been using it. Reading it at the very least. Which means he’s on his way here if he’s found the tracking spell,” Jin mutters, more to himself. “But he can’t just leave the castle as is. He’s the King - everyone knows his face.”

“A disguise,” Namjoon supplies.

Jungkook sits straight up. “Yeah, that definitely sounds like Taehyung. He would definitely get a disguise and probably cooked up a whole new murder plan.”

“Y/N!” Jin practically shouts. “Bring me to her! She’s in mortal danger!”

***

Outside, you straighten your back with a satisfying groan. Most of the vegetables were harvested and now you had a nice, filled basket of goodies for the coming days. Carrots, tomatoes, and some potatoes, too.

You’ve almost forgotten about the whole ‘the King of Land of Fairytales wanting me dead’ ordeal.

Humming softly, you go to water the plants by the front of the cabin. Namjoon has been so kind to let you stay, along with JK - now Jungkook. The huntsman had sworn loyalty to you after waking to find you tending to his wounds. Though… he was the one who inflicted them upon himself.

A sudden sound off to the side gets your attention.

You stand up straight, clutching the watering pot close to you.

“Hello?” You wince at the sound of your voice. Haven’t you learned from past tales that you never call out loud to impending danger.

Still, your dumbass is curious and so, you move closer and closer towards the sound.

It’s from a large bush near the front of the cabin. The leaves are ruffling and you’re sure whatever is in there won’t get close, not when you have a magical mirror, huntsman and a druid all nearby.

Pushing the leaves apart, you notice more movement. “What the—“

“Y/N, STEP AWAY!” Jin shouts and you hear Jungkook’s thundering footsteps. A hand lands on your upper arm and you’re steered around. Jin is ready - ready to face his former best friend, the monster of all monsters. How dare he come after you like this?!

However, what greets him isn’t a frail, old woman or an ominous child or demon spawned from hell, but rather… a dog. An almost puppy-sized Pomeranian, brown and yipping in your arms.

“Uh, Jin,” Jungkook murmurs, also noticing the fluff ball that’s cradled in your arm.

You’re the first one to break the silence, the small ball of adorableness staring up at you. “Oh by the gods,” you gush, unable to help yourself. “You’re so freaking cute!!”

The dog has short legs, a body of brown fur and it’s trying to move, but you don’t notice the way the dog practically growls at Jungkook threateningly. The huntsman backs off, immediately sensing something is way off.

“Jungkook, give me some space. You’re freaking out the poor pup,” you chide softly, too enraptured by the adorable fluff ball to notice the way it’s practically hissing at Jungkook with hatred.

Said man backs off, quickly going back to Namjoon’s side.

“Call me crazy, but I think that’s Taehyung,” Jungkook whispers, his eyes never leaving the yapping dog. He can’t quite understand it, but he’s sure Taehyung is cursing him to the moon and back.

Jin watches from the mirror, calculating his next move. Taehyung isn’t an expert at magic, that much is true. He also managed to turn himself into a dog and found them.

Well.

“Y/N,” Jin calls out and you walk over, carrying your newfound friend with you. “Why don’t you keep it? I think it’s a stray.”

The dog stops barking - well, Taehyung stops shouting - immediately. His eyes hone in on Jin and suddenly the wheels click in his head. Sonofab—

“That sounds like a great idea. We could teach it some tricks. We usually sees wolves, not a stray puppy,” you coo, smiling brightly. “It’s so cute too!”

“Check to see the gender,” Jin supplies, further adding salt to the injury. Taehyung will murder him once he returns back to his normal form.

Without shame, you tilt the dog gently and peek.

“It’s a boy,” you smile without a care, not noticing how Taehyung practically went stiff in your arms, unable to do anything but let out a soft, embarrassed whimper. Jin is smirking at him, almost victoriously.

“Check, mate,” he mouths, smirk widening when he sees Taehyung ready to jump out of your arms and run at the mirror. Unfortunately, you’re far more stronger than him now that he’s a dog.

Thus, Taehyung has lost this round.

+++

The next days are splendid.

You wake up, make breakfast while Namjoon and Jungkook hunt, clean and chat with Jin and of course, spend all your time with your new puppy. You hadn’t been sure what to name him, but ‘Caramel’ seemed fitting since he was a duo brownish colour, darker brown on top and much lighter along his belly.

He constantly ignored his dog food, preferring to eat the human food you had cooked for the others. At first you were worried he’d get sick, but as time went on, you realized Caramel was just special. Even in this short time span, you knew you loved him.

On the other hand, Taehyung has been plotting your murder since day one. But alas, he hasn’t been able to execute it probably. Each and every single time, Jungkook, Jin or even the druid, Namjoon, have managed to foil his plans.

One time, he saw you leaning over the edge of the river bank, trying to fish. He had ran at full speed, hoping to push you into the water. Last minute, Namjoon had pulled you to safety and Taehyung had yipped in fear as he dove headfirst into the wet surface. He wasn’t used to walking, so swimming was far out of the picture. The shock soon wore off and fear gripped him as he felt himself sinking.

A splash was heard and arms grabbed him, pulling him up into safety. He spluttered, as much as he could in this form, ready to thank Jungkook for helping him… only to find it was, well, you.

You were soaked, hair sticking to your face as you watched him with worrisome eyes. “Caramel, be careful!” You scolded, keeping him bundled close.

The pomeranian didn’t know what else to do, shivering from cold, fright, or something else. Without thinking, Taehyung all but snuggled into you and your warmth. Just this once, he tells himself inwardly. Tomorrow he would try to kill you again.

Of course, the days that spanned soon turned into weeks. Each day, Taehyung spent with you, he forgot about wanting to kill you. Ever since the riverbank incident, you’ve kept your eye on the pomeranian, not wanting anymore accidents. Despite all the attention (much to Jin’s chagrin), Taehyung was beginning to warm up to you, whether or not he realized it.

In fact… he dare say, he was beginning to like you.

That is - if Taehyung had emotional understanding, he would realize it. But he didn’t. So he continued to be rather dense.

One night in particular, after dinner, Namjoon had offered to wash the dishes with Jungkook, deciding you should have free time after rushing around all day doing this and that. Jin had hummed in agreement, though he seemed distracted with something. The mirror bid you all goodnight, leaving only the two cleaners, you and Caramel.

Not wanting to go to sleep just yet, you wrapped yourself in a shawl that Namjoon had given to you a few days prior (“For the colder nights,” he had smiled warmly, dimples showing).

“Caramel,” you whisper, crouching next to the dog almost falling asleep on the armchair. “Do you want to see the stars with me?”

Taehyung perks at that, turning to face you. The last time he’s seen the stars was when his parents were still alive and well. The three of them had gone to the highest tower in the castle and gazed out, while having a nightly picnic of treats. He makes a low noise of agreement and you scoop him up, heading towards the back of the cabin.

The air is a little chilly, but you wrap the shawl tightly around your shoulders. Taking a seat on the wooden porch of the cabin, you bring your knees to your chest, head tipped upwards. Taehyung looks up, too, eyes widening at the sight before him.

“Wow,” you breathe amazedly. Taehyung mirrors you in agreement.

The moon is full and bright, high in the night sky. Around it are a million sparkling stars, some larger than others. It’s like the entire world has faded away, leaving only the two of you to see this swirling sea of endless beauty.

“You know, that big star right there,” you point out, getting the dog’s attention. “That’s Sirius. In other words, it’s known as the ‘dog star,’” you grin, “like you.”

Taehyung scoffs - you’ve got jokes.

You giggle feeling the sassy response from your companion. “It’s the brightest star in the entire galaxy, Caramel. Which means you’re one pretty special doggie.”

He doesn’t know why, but he turns to look at you and your side profile makes something in him feel… warm. Blaming the night chill, he presses his smaller form against you. Noticing, you lift and place him in your lap, wrapping the shawl around the both of you, while letting his head peek out to watch the stars.

“You want to know the funniest thing? I’m a common peasant… no family, no money, nothing to my name but my person. I work at a tavern, serving brutes and drunks all day long. All I wanted was my own fairytale ending… like those princesses I see strolling the street markets day after day,” you sigh. “Turns out the King wants me dead… I don’t even know why. Then there’s a magic mirror, a huntsman and a druid. I was all alone before they came to me… did you know that?”

Taehyung watches you, unable to look away. Something akin to guilt grips at his heart. He too, knows the feeling of loneliness. Ever since his parents’ death, he’s been alone. No friends truly cared, no family members wanted to take him in - all he had were servants and those that wanted the throne.

These past days that he’s been with you, he’s seen how you are. You’re hardworking, kind, always looking out for others. Always got a warm smile on your face, even when you’re sad. You try to hide the pain to not be a burden. And himself? He’s nothing but a spoilt brat sitting on the throne, complaining and whining when things don’t go his way.

“And the thing is… I’m scared they’ll all leave me. So while I hate the King for putting me in this situation, I’m also grateful because of him, I met some really, really wonderful friends.” You smile, looking down at the pomeranian.

Your eyes shine with unshed tears.

Taehyung whimpers, leaning up to lick the tears away before he can second guess his actions.

“But most of all, I’m glad I have you, Caramel. You’re… special to me. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like you get me. You understand what I’m saying and how I feel. …even though you’re a huge troublemaker,” you tease, voice soft.

Taehyung’s heart doubles in speed.

Even though you didn’t have lips as red as rose, hair as dark as ebony, skin as white as snow… Taehyung finds you, in a puzzling way, perfect. Especially with the way the moonlight shines down on you, basking you in a white, ethereal glow.

“I love you, Caramel. I hope I never lose you,” you admit, squeezing him a little tighter in your embrace.

Taehyung finds he doesn’t care. He hugs you back as much as he can in this form, nuzzling closer to your soothing heartbeat.

He hasn’t felt like this in a long time. No longer lonely and isolated. He feels… happy.

Is Taehyung — the cold, hollow, ice King — falling in love?

You pet him, cuddle him, read stories to him - you even teach him tricks (which he hates, but he does because you smile when he successfully accomplishes one and it makes his tiny heart flutter). Heck, you even talk to him! It’s something Taehyung has missed ever since his parents’ passing and while he tries to push the thought away, he can’t pretend that his little (doggie) heart isn’t thumping for you. Because damn’, it is.

He’s gotten belly rubs and pets; warm, good, homestyle cooking made just for him with love and care. You give him forehead kisses and tell him your deepest wishes and desires, all the while just enjoying his presence even though he doesn’t/can’t say anything back! Yet, you never become frustrated or upset with him. Even when he’s being a ‘bad doggie’.

You genuinely care for him.

He sees the way Jin smirks at him when you get up to fetch another nighttime story and Taehyung growls lowly under his breath. The mirror chuckles and goes back to doing whatever he was doing before being a nosy-eavesdropper.

Taehyung is happy. He hasn’t felt this free in years and he doesn’t want to quite give up the doggy lifestyle just yet.

After all, he still needed to murder you and since that wasn’t really on his agenda anymore, he decided that he would stay just a little bit longer.

At least… until he could figure out why he couldn’t bear to leave you behind as he returned to his kingly duties.

+++

But of course, life is filled with trials and tribulations.

One fateful day, there is a knock at the door. Taehyung is busy sitting in your lap, eating the omelette you’ve cooked for him. Jungkook gets the door and lo and behold, it is Prince Jimin from the neighbouring castle.

Prince Jimin, with his coiffed silvery hair, smoky eyes and pouting, full lips.

The door widens some more and Taehyung is able to make out that there are two other men behind the Prince.

“Hello,” Jimin smiles, all princely and kind. Taehyung would roll his eyes if he could. The snob. “Would it be alright if I come in?”

“Oh - yes, please,” You start, already standing and gently placing Taehyung on the ground. He pouts. How dare you put him down because of this other, snivelling male. He watches as you walk over to Jimin, curtsying as best you can. He also doesn’t miss the way Jimin can’t seem to take his eyes off of you - the way there’s a shade of light pink dusting the Prince’s cheeks. A growl starts in Taehyung’s throat.

“Welcome to our humble abode, Your Highness,” Namjoon greets, bowing. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Jimin smiles still as he enters the small cabin, the two men following close behind. “I was just coming to visit you. I have some questions about my garden and was hoping you would be able to give me some advice… though, I dare say, I’ve come upon an even more beautiful treasure.”

Your eyes widen when you notice how the Prince looks at you, his eyes sparkling.

Jungkook clears his throat from beside you and Jimin notices how he’s eyeing the two men behind him. “Ah - yes! This is Yoongi, he is my Royal Advisor.” Said man is roughly around Jimin’s height, dressed in black, but his blazer is covered in an intricate pattern that is similar to the Prince’s. Black hair falls over cat-like eyes and Taehyung feels the bark in him die down, especially when the advisor turns his gaze onto him. It’s as if Yoongi can see right through his disguise.

“This here is Hoseok, my royal guard,” the man on his left, slightly taller, dark hair sweeping across his forehead. His eyes are focused on Jungkook, almost assessing the situation if anything were to break out.

“Would you two cut it out,” Jimin whines after a moment of tense silence. “This is why I didn’t want you accompanying me. It feels like a funeral with you two!”

You blink in surprise. Prince Jimin is handsome, but when he breaks from his serious face, he’s got a pouty, almost childlike glee to him. You chuckle, catching the Prince’s attention. A small smile lights up his face.

“Well, since you’ve come all this way, I suppose I’ll go back to take a look at the gardens,” Namjoon states, already walking towards the carriage waiting outside.

“Would your… friends care to join us,” Jimin wonders, gaze still fixed on yours.

“Sure!”

“Bark!”

Both you and Taehyung speak at the same time and it grabs Jimin’s attention. You watch in alarm at the way Caramel is poised, tense and ready to attack the Prince, despite the size difference.

Bending down, you quickly scoop the pomeranian into your arms. “As long as he can come. He gets fussy when I leave him alone for a long period,” you try to reason, struggling to keep your hold because it looks like he’s about to maul Jimin to pieces.

The Prince chuckles nervously, and while his two companions say nothing more, you notice how Yoongi’s eyes have amusement dancing in them as he watches the dog.

Soon you all set off, Jin, the magic mirror in tow as well.

Jimin’s castle is beautiful, tall, bright and filled with colourful people and decorations. There’s always music and laughter and you find yourself loving the atmosphere.

Namjoon tends to his gardens, while Jungkook and Jin go off to browse the castle grounds and the places outside. You keep Caramel close to your side, worried that he’ll get into even more trouble if you leave him alone.

All seems well. And all would be. You found a handsome, charming Prince; you have a group of wonderful, newfound friends - even Yoongi and Hoseok are quite nice, once you get past the whole serious facade they put up to guard their leader.

It should be a Happy Ever After.

But.

It’s not.

You see, this isn’t what Taehyung wanted. He doesn’t want to see you and Jimin getting along just swell. Laughing over shared jokes, talking and exchanging ideas, likes, dislikes, becoming closer each growing day. Soon, what was supposed to only be a visit almost becomes permanent.

Namjoon grows to love the garden and postpones leaving, despite Taehyung’s constant barking and ankle nipping to get the druid to understand he wants to leave. But Namjoon is far denser than the King and he doesn’t even spare a glance as he starts to avoid the small pomeranian.

Then an idea hits.

A devilish, perfect, evil idea.

Taehyung treks the journey back to the cabin - not that far when you have four legs. He finds the poisonous apple he had hidden behind the shrubs… a little gross looking, but nonetheless edible if he could clean it with some water. Holding the stem in his teeth, he treks back to the castle quickly.

New Plan: Poison Prince Jimin.

Y/N no longer loves him because he’s dead.

Y/N chooses to return home to the cabin in the woods with him.

You and Taehyung live happily ever after.  

The End.

“You’re jealous,” Jin’s teases when he sees Taehyung in his doggy form pacing around your empty bedroom.

You had went to have dinner with the others earlier. Taehyung had feigned sleepiness, so you had tucked him into your bed, pressing a sweet kiss to his head as you left. The moment you were gone, Taehyung had sprung up and tried to get to the poisoned apple underneath your mattress. He didn’t expect Jin to show up, but here he was, watching Taehyung through your new, vanity mirror.

A bark.

“That’s a foul word, even for you, My King,” Jin drawls, arms crossed. They haven’t really spoken that much - not since the Big Fight.

But Jin has a big, soft heart and he can’t stand to watch Taehyung fall apart. So while they haven’t spoken, the older has kept an eye on him to make sure he never went too far with his shenanigans. Now seemed like one of those times.

“What are you going to do - poison Jimin? Y/N won’t like that,” Jin tries to reason, missing the way Taehyung struggles with getting the stem of the apple into his teeth and out from under the bed.

Another bark.

“That’s not a good idea. You’ve already attempted murder, what, a handful of times and each one has ended up badly. Don’t you think this means you, oh, I don’t know - not murder anymore??”

Another bark and a string of growls.

“Pfft. Right back at you,” Jin scoffs. “Taehyung - look. If you love her, like I know you do, just talk to her - I can help you find a spell to turn back into yourself. She’ll love you for you. All you have to do is make a few personality changes, you know - less moody, less bossy, less—“ Jin stops.

As he turned to face the dog, he realized two things: Taehyung is not there. The room is empty.

***

You and Jimin are in the dining room, alone - how fitting.

The Prince is trying to teach you a magic trick involving a string. He’s demonstrating it once more and you’re enraptured by the neat trick. Taehyung hates how his heart is squeezing and running forward, he drops the apple by Jimin’s ankle. Barking once to gather the Prince’s attention.

Jimin looks down, surprise on his face to see your pomeranian beaming up at him, sitting on his hind legs and tail wagging.

“Oh, for me?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen.

It’s your hand that reaches towards the granny smith apple.

That beautiful smile on your face and he can’t — you can’t die!

Without thinking and clearly freaking out, he growls hoping to scare you.

Instead, you frown at the dog, hand closed around the apple and bringing it towards your face. “Caramel, what are you—“

Taehyung does what he can only do in this situation.

He eats the apple.

You watch in shock as your dog begins to whimper as he stares up at you, suddenly brown eyes looking like they were… crying?

Panic squeezes your chest and you drop to your knees, pulling the pomeranian close. “H-hey, what’s wrong?”

Taehyung feels immense pain course through him.

“Get help! Someone get help!” You shout in alarm, acidic tears pricking at your eyes.

Jimin is on his feet, quickly calling for Namjoon and Yoongi.

The doors to the dining room fly open, several people running towards the Prince and you.

Before they can get near you, a bright, blinding flash of light fills the room.

You close your eyes shut tight, keeping the dog securely in your arms.

Just as quick as the light was there, it’s gone.

And in its place, in your arms, is no longer Caramel, your adorable pomeranian - but a man.

Naked, caramel-coloured skin, eyes closed and definitely unconscious.

You stare in shock.

Everyone in the room is deathly quiet, until Jimin breaks the silence.

“Oh my gods… is that — Taehyung?!” All eyes turn to Jimin, including yours.

Wait, as in King Taehyung - the man who ordered Huntsman Jungkook to murder you almost a month ago?!

Jin and Jungkook are standing there, watching in horror because no one was supposed to find out about Taehyung’s disguise and also - why isn’t he moving?!

“He ate the apple,” you choke out, suddenly aware and connecting all the dots. “He ate the apple and now he’s not moving!”

Yoongi swiftly kneels beside you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Let me see him.” You want to refuse, want to argue that they can’t touch him - not when you don’t even know what to do yourself. But the advisor gives you a reassuring squeeze and you hesitantly let Caramel — Taehyung go.

***

A wave of exhaustion hits you as you wait impatiently outside the royal infirmary.

Yoongi is also a trained physician, especially in ancient magic, much like Namjoon, and the two have not left the room since they took Taehyung into it.

You feel your nerves going as you sit there, waiting for something.

“Y/N.” Looking up, you see Jungkook looking worriedly at you.

Hoseok has been leaning against the wall to the infirmary, stationary and quiet ever since Jimin went in with Jin. Jungkook had offered to stay behind to comfort you, worried about how you were reacting to the sudden events.

“He’s - he’s really the King? The same King who hired you to kill me,” you ask, voice surprisingly clear.

Jungkook winces. “Yes… he, well, I grew up with him. His parents took me in from the orphanage. Hoped they could have me as Taehyung’s friend, but after their deaths, Taehyung pushed me away. Trained me to become his personal assassin - he was always paranoid everyone was against him,” Jungkook explains.

Groaning, you bury your face into your hands. “Why is my life so messed up?” You mumble. You miss the way Hoseok and Jungkook exchange an empathetic glance.

The door to the infirmary opens and you immediately look up. Jimin’s half-standing out of the door, handing something to Hoseok as he exchanges words quietly with his guard. The Prince turns to you, a somber expression on his face before he apologetically closes the door once more, shutting you out.

“My Lady,” Hoseok begins, treading lightly as he turns towards you.

You sit up. Beside you, Jungkook is tensed, worried about what Hoseok might do.

“His Majesty says the warlock would like to exchange some words with you.”

Hoseok hands you the small compact mirror and you thank him. Nodding, he goes back to his post, back turned to you as he waits silently.

Jin’s face appears in the mirror and he looks just as exhausted as you. “Y/N, I think… you have a lot of questions. Please, I’ll try to answer whatever you ask me.”

“Jin - just what the hell is going on,” you hiss, tears pricking at your eyes. “You better not lie to me anymore or I swear I’ll throw you into the dumpster!”

The man in the mirror feels immense guilt at seeing you so sad.

He finally tells you.

Jin tells you how from the beginning he was a renowned warlock, powerful and ancient. He grew cocky and as a punishment, a group of supernatural beings got together and cast a curse over him. He was to be locked inside the mirror that hung in Taehyung’s castle until true love came along to set him free. Even Namjoon, who was almost as old as Jin, couldn’t set him free with his magic. From there, years passed and Taehyung came along. The two became like brothers and soon, Jungkook joined the warlock’s world.

When Taehyung’s family passed, everything changed. Taehyung changed. He shut everyone out, closed his heart and became an ice cold King. Jin wanted to break through the mask, wanted to have the goofy, immature Prince back that he once knew. So he told a lie which spiralled out of control and brought them to where they are now.

You tear your eyes away from the image Jin has created in the mirror for you. The castle — Taehyung’s castle — is nothing like Jimin’s.

It’s gloomy, the servants in the image look monotonous and dreary, even the castle is sparse and filled with only decorations for the sake of filling empty spaces. Nothing is homey about Taehyung’s kingdom. You can’t help but feel bad for him… even after everything Jin has told you.

“I-is there a cure? To wake him up,” you ask.

“There is, but I don’t think Taehyung will ever wake up,” Jin answers sadly, his head hanging.

“What is it? Maybe I can help.”

“It’s True Love’s Kiss,” the warlock responds, frowning. “Y/N, no one has ever loved Taehyung that way; no one but his parents. How can you possibly wake him up? Even I - his longtime companion feel anger when I think of all the mess he’s caused.”

You quickly stand, startling Jungkook. “Even if we feel anger, it doesn’t mean we don’t love him. I mean - you, you love him. So why don’t we try? I’m sure after all this time, you or Jungkook must feel something for the King.”

The huntsman makes a face. “I definitely am not kissing him. I know for a fact I don’t love him like that.”

“…could you?” Your eyes widen at Jin’s request. “He - he’s spent so much time with you as Caramel! Even if his name was never known to you, you must’ve felt something for all the time you spent together. Even if it’s just warmth. He clearly feels something for you - I mean,” Jin babbles.

You hate Taehyung.

He made you go on the run, almost get murdered by Jungkook, live in a cabin for fear of him finding out you were still alive - and it turns out, he disguised himself as your adorable pomeranian and tried to kill Jimin with a poisoned apple after he got jealous of your divided attention! Logically, it made sense why you hated the man. He was selfish and cruel and a narcissistic psychopath, you reasoned with yourself.

Even if he listened to you when you spoke and read to him, nuzzled into your side when you were sad that you could never return to normalcy.

Followed you no matter where you went, even if it was dangerous. Fought off stray wolves during your treks to find more food regardless of the size difference…

Played and did all the tricks you taught him - even though you now know he wasn’t a regular dog but the King of the Land! He still went out of his way to make you happy, when all he had to do was walk back to his castle and go back to his life.

He did whatever he could to make you smile.

Sighing, you give in.

Even if you are angry and you have every right to be, Taehyung is a straight up asshole - you want to save him. You want to save him because it just felt like the right thing to do and you couldn’t bear to see Taehyung die alone…

Pushing open the door to the infirmary, you enter to find Yoongi and Namjoon conversing over a large book. Jimin is sitting by Taehyung’s side, watching the King with a fond expression.

“Y/N,” Jimin greets, immediately standing when he sees you. “Is everything alright?”

“I know what will wake up,” you begin, exchanging a look with Jin. The older man nods gratefully. “It’s True Love’s Kiss.”

Jimin blanches visibly. “Y-you’re going to kiss him?”

“One of us has to,” you grumble, feeling your cheeks grow hot. “Are you?”

Jimin quickly shakes his head.

Huffing, you push him aside as you walk up to Taehyung’s bed. The male looks… peaceful. Almost. His eyes are closed and you can see just how long his eyelashes are. You also notice the moles that decorate his caramel skin. One on his nose and one on his bottom lip.

“Are you sure, Y/N? You don’t have to do this,” Jimin begins, thinking you’re second guessing your actions.

“N-no, it’s fine. I’m just. You’re all watching me work a miracle, it’s unnerving.”

“Take your time,” Namjoon offers, a kind smile on his face.

Nodding, you take a deep breath. Here goes something.

Leaning over, you squeeze your eyes shut and kiss Taehyung - a quick peck on the lips.

Pulling back quickly, you watch, waiting for the man to sit up.

Nothing happens.

Behind you, you hear Hoseok clear his throat. “…maybe it takes a moment,” he shrugs, scratching the back of his neck.

A moment passes and still nothing. Your eyes widen. It didn’t work! Maybe you aren’t Taehyung’s true love after all!

You turn, facing Jin with panic. “It should work, you’re the only one that should be able to wake him,” Jin states, more to himself before quickly disappearing after his words.

Great. Jin just left.

“Maybe you’re not kissing him hard enough?” Jimin wonders.

You like Jimin. Really, you do - but his comment irks you more than you let on. “Why don’t you trying kissing him then,” you hiss.

Jimin makes a disgusted face, crossing his arms. “No, no, I rather not. He’s a real drag.”

“You know, I saw something like this once. It was in a tale,” Yoongi begins almost conspiratorially.

Namjoon nods sagely. “Yes, I believe I do know that tale. The Princess needed a scale from a mere folk’s fin to wake her lover up.”

Jimin and Hoseok are now going to where Jungkook is standing by the window, all three conversing quietly.

You look around, noticing how everyone is muttering amongst themselves, trying to find a solution now that you clearly didn’t work.

The conversation around you begins to get on your nerves. They’re talking as if you were some trial that wasn’t successful in a laboratory!

Turning back to face Taehyung with a sense of newfound gusto, you lean down again. “You want true love’s kiss, fine.”

Grabbing Taehyung’s face, you press your lips to his more insistently now.

You try to ignore how soft his lips feel even though he’s clearly not had moisturizer or lip ointment during his time as a dog. That and he smells heavenly. Seriously, was it just a royalty thing??

Then — something just clicks.

It’s like time has stopped and you’re flying because suddenly, you feel hands on your face and the lips on yours begin to move, deepening the kiss. You groan, unable to stop yourself. The taste is addicting, making you yearn and want more.

Your fingers find their way into soft hair and you’re tugging enough to earn a hiss from the man below. He licks at your lips, asking for entrance and you almost grant it - until your mind reels you back to the present and where you are.

You pull away, mortified at what has happened.

“Y-you’re up?” you ask, unable to hide the breathlessness to your voice.

Taehyung is definitely and visibly up. His dark eyes are fixed on you, lips swollen and thoroughly kissed and his hair is a mess thanks to your wandering hands.

Remembering where you both are, he clears his throat, turning his gaze upwards to face the ceiling. “Uh, yeah. You - you kissed me?”

You nod. “To you know, break the spell of your poison apple!”

“Right,” Taehyung immediately replies, red dusting his cheeks. “Right. T-thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The entire room is quiet. Awkward silence filters the atmosphere.

“I should go,” you swallow, feeling embarrassed at how the situation has unfolded.

Taehyung doesn’t ask you to stay and you don’t miss the way your heart squeezes at that. You notice the rest of the room just watching you two interact with bated breath - even Jin is back from wherever he disappeared off to.

“Excuse me,” you quickly curtsy to Jimin, before you’re fleeing from the room.

…unfortunately this is how our two lover’s story ends.

King Taehyung and Y/N go their separate ways. Taehyung goes back to his castle with Jungkook and Jin after thanking Prince Jimin for letting him stay. Namjoon chooses to accompany Taehyung back, especially after the King offers the druid position as a royal advisor. Jimin and Taehyung shake on it, promising to meet outside of royal affairs to become better acquainted again - after all, they were the best of friends when they were both just young boys. Yoongi and Hoseok continue on with their lives, though Taehyung can’t help but flush every time Yoongi meets his gaze. It’s like the advisor knows something Taehyung doesn’t (or doesn’t want to acknowledge anyways).

You go back home, declining Jimin’s request to stay by his side. You like the Prince, he’s handsome, charming, funny and he’s what every singleton in the Land of Fairytales is after - but he’s not for you. You thank him for everything he’s done and wish him the best in finding a better lover. Jimin doesn’t pressure you and you think it’s because he too realizes your heart never belonged to him in the first place.

Days pass and you’re back on track again for normalcy and the mundane. Though, you don’t complain as much as you used to. You quit the tavern upon returning, deciding to try your hand at a different occupation. You just know there’s something out there waiting for you - something great and wonderful and you’re going to find it on your own.

In his castle, Taehyung is miserable. Not because of his lifestyle. No, he’s changed things around a bit - new decorations, new guidelines, he even smiles a bit more to his workers and servants than he had previously. The magic spell book is placed back in its storage spot and he’s managed to recover as best he can the friendships with Jungkook and Jin.

But he’s unhappy. He doesn’t ask Jin who’s the fairest of them all anymore - it no longer fancies him to know and he honestly doesn’t even care anymore about that.

“You look awful,” Jin voices one afternoon on a sunny day. Both, he and Taehyung are watching as Namjoon teaches Jungkook basic, forestry magic. It’s endearing to see how the younger quickly fawns over the druid, almost heart-eyed.

“I haven’t slept well,” Taehyung lies.

“Because you miss her?”

A grunt is all the warlock gets in response. “You should find her. She’s waiting for you, too, you know.”

“What, you’ve been stalking her?”

“No. We still talk, even if you no longer bother to reach out. She’s a good one… pure and kind-hearted. Tougher than you think,” Jin chuckles.

“I know she’s tough, I just don’t want her feeling pressured to be with me because of what we went through. Trauma isn’t meant to create happiness.”

Not for the first time since their return, Jin is impressed. Taehyung has definitely matured quite a bit.

“I don’t think it’s trauma. She would’ve run for the hills if she hated you. Clearly - she doesn’t.”

Taehyung is quiet, mulling over the elder’s words.

“Do you love her?”

“Yes,” Taehyung responds without hesitation. “So much that it hurts without her here. I just…” Taehyung sighs. “I just want to be with her.”

“Then go!” Jin practically shouts. “What are you waiting for?! No one is going to just drop her into your lap because you want her - you have to go get her yourself! Stop being a coward and go to her,” Jin wants to shake the foolish King.

Looking out at the land before him, Taehyung realizes he really doesn’t care about all of this. If you’re not by his side, he doesn’t want any of it - none of the riches or the fame. He wants your kindness and your smiles. He wants you reading him bedtime stories, expressing your wishes and deepest thoughts with him. Side by side, watching the stars like you had back at the cabin. Just the two of you.

“But I cannot do that to her,” he murmurs at last, shoulders drooping. “She wants a life for herself. If I profess my love to her and keep her here in the kingdom, she’ll never have the adventures and journeys she’s craving.”

Jin scoffs. Of all the time to be a good man, King Taehyung chooses now.

Suddenly, a wickedly good idea sparks into Jin’s mind!

Why didn’t he think of it before? This way, both the King and Y/N get their wishes to come true!

Grinning gleefully, he turns to face Taehyung - the younger looking at Jin skeptically.

“Why are you smiling like that? It is rather… unsettling,” he murmurs, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand.

“Oh, Your Majesty - I have just the thing for you.”

+++

You sigh for the umpteenth time that day.

You had quit your job at the tavern. Which means, no more money coming into your pockets, despite how little the wage already was. Now you have nothing coming in anymore, period.

Your supposed home is a tiny, broom closet. You’ve lost contact with all your former friends, minus Jin. The warlock still pops in from time to time to check on things. You’re grateful for the bond you two have, even though you’re certain it’s because Jin is still guilty of how he practically ruined your life.

When you returned back ‘home,’ you were certain you were going to take your life into your own hands. Adventures! Journeys! You wanted to visit the Isle of the Mere, see the North Kingdom — maybe take a yearlong cruise!

Taehyung had given you a hefty sum of money and shiny treasures for his gratitude to you for saving him countless times. Not that you wanted or needed it. If anything, it hurt you more knowing the King rewarded you with things for The Kiss.

Ah. The kiss… you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t affect you at all. Because, oh boy, it did.

After countless nights of tossing and turning, of having the man invade every single one of your thoughts throughout the day, you couldn’t help but finally take some serious self-reflection. You love(?) Kim Taehyung.

Even though he’s cocky, insane and a tad murderous — you miss him. You miss him listening to you when you told him your thoughts and feelings. You miss how comfortable you felt watching the stars in Namjoon’s backyard. You miss the way he went out of his way to make you happy, even in the form of a small pomeranian dog.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t realize you’ve stopped walking now, having arrived back at the cabin in the woods once more. Namjoon no longer lives here, having moved to Taehyung’s castle. You frown, it is truly uninhabited now.

Moving past the gate, you approach the front door, memories rushing back to you. Another sigh leaves you. You miss everyone. You miss the times you spent with them. No matter how trivial it might seem to them, it meant something special to you.

Suddenly, the neigh of a horse grabs your attention. Twirling around, you stare in shock at seeing a figure cloaked in deep blue robes on a magnificent stallion.

It’s Taehyung. You recognize that face a mile away. His hair is different, no longer the curly black, but now a bright, startling blue that matches his robes. He’s eyes widen when he notices you, quickly pulling his horse to a stop.

“Y-Y/N?” he asks, almost like he’s afraid he’s hallucinating.

“Hi,” you greet, soft and unsure.

“What are you doing here,” he wonders. “N-not that you’re not allowed here! You’re always allowed here - whenever you want…” he begins to trail off, tips of his ears turning red.

Your lips twitch. How cute.

“I was daydreaming and ended up back here,” you admit.

“You were,” he asks, surprised.

You nod. “May I ask what his Majesty is doing here? There are no royal guards… no druid, definitely no huntsman.” You can’t help the teasing lilt from lacing your tone.

Catching the sarcastic tint, Taehyung chuckles lowly, getting off his horse and walking closer to the front gate. “Well… I’m not stalking you if that’s what you’re worried about. I don’t… I don’t want you dead anymore — like, at all.”

You bite your bottom lip, unable to keep the smile at bay.

Taking your silence as discomfort, he starts rambling. “Jin told me to come visit the cabin. He said there was something I needed to pick up here - clearly, he was putting me up to something. Not that I’m not happy to see you, because I am! After all, you’re my saviour and I don’t - I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable at all…”

You walk towards him, stopping just shortly in front of him, the small gate dividing you two.

“I’m not uncomfortable, Your Grace. In fact,” you give him a small, but genuine smile. “I’m really happy to see you again. Even if you know, you’re not Caramel anymore.”

The blunette looks at you, unable to stop himself as he reaches out, hesitantly letting his fingers hover over your cheek. Noticing how unsure he is, you reach up, enveloping his large hand with yours, pressing the feel of his fingertips against the smooth expanse of your cheek. Your eyelids flutter at the touch, a content sigh leaving you.

“I’ll always be Caramel to you,” he whispers, like he’s afraid the moment will be ruined.

You watch him, gaze resting on his soft lips before moving up to his startling, electric gaze. By the gods. Jin was definitely right about Taehyung being the fairest of them all. Your heart skips a beat at the way he’s watching you. How you crave to taste him again.

As if sensing your inner thoughts, His Majesty moves closer to you, his free hand resting shyly on your upper arm and drawing you closer. “I’ve missed you,” he admits, a breath away from your lips.

Your heart thunders in your chest, loud and erratically. “I’ve missed you, too,” you murmur, eyes half-lidded as you look back at him.

“Can I…?”

You nod, tilting your head and enjoying just how warm his body heat is against yours.

A few strands of blue locks tickle your forehead and your cheek, but you don’t care - all that matters is the feel of Taehyung’s lips against your own.

So close… so cl—

“Ahem!”

The sound springs both you and Taehyung apart, effectively ruining the mood.

“Sorry, was I interrupting?” Jin’s voice echoes from between you two.

You watch as Taehyung shoots you an apologetic smile, stuffing his hands into his robes, rummaging around before pulling out a small, compact mirror.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jin chirps, as if he didn’t just ruin a beautiful moment between you and the King. You wave, unable to keep the smile from your face. It’s nice to see Jin again - even though the warlock calls you daily.

“So,” Jin sing-songs, “I come bearing good news! I’ve spoken with Taehyung - er, His Majesty, and he has agreed to have you as his royal noblewoman. You are his Saviour, after all!”

“Me?” You question, taken aback.

“I did?” Taehyung blurts out.

You turn to face the blue-haired man, but he looks just as surprised as you. Jin shoots Taehyung a dirty look and you watch as the the King hastily excuses himself, spinning and exchanging, quiet, angry grunts with the mirror warlock.

“You didn’t tell me—“

“Because you would’ve backed out!”

“I’m your King…!”

“King, my ass—“

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s alright. I don’t want or need to be a noblewoman. I’m sure Jin is just being helpful, but really, it puts unnecessary burden on His Majesty and I couldn’t do that,” you bow, quickly apologizing.

“Y/N, please don’t. No need to address me so formally. I… I would love for you to be a noblewoman of my court. In fact,” Taehyung blushes. “I would love it if you would consider being my right hand, alongside Namjoon as royal advisor. You have… eye-opening insight into things that I don’t understand. I value that - and you, in my life.”

You stare, eyes wide as saucers.

“I-if you want!” Taehyung quickly tacks on, hoping he doesn’t sound desperate. “It’s entirely your choice. Don’t feel forced to do anything!”

Bringing your hand to your mouth, you bite back a laugh. He’s too cute for his own good.

“Well… I love to, Your Majesty.”

A look of loving awe is on his face. “Really?”

“Really.”

Taehyung can’t keep the grin from adorning his handsome features as you two ride back to his castle.

+++

Life with Taehyung is beautiful.

The two of you danced around another for a few more months. He never brought up the kiss and neither did you. You both shared knowing glances and shy smiles, the sexual tension impalpable, but neither of you acted on it. It grew to a point that even Jin was beginning to complain about you two making lovey-dovey eyes at one another while having breakfast.

Still, no one could say that they didn’t notice the way Taehyung’s eyes lit up when you entered the room. Or how your smile was so bright and genuine when you saw him in passing or when you two finally sat down for dinner together.

It was an unspoken bond you two shared, a bubble that only you two lived together in.

Gone were the rags and now you dressed in riches each day. Sometimes you found it stuffy: the corset, the bellowing dresses - they just weren’t for you.

Of course, Taehyung noticed. And when he did, he went out of his way to have custom tailored pieces of clothing for you. Some were pants, others were dresses that didn’t have as many layers and poofiness to it.

Even though he wasn’t your Caramel anymore, he remained as by your side as ever.

You two went on adventures and journeys together, sometimes to other royal functions and others to more common events. Nonetheless, you two were well known throughout the land as inseparable - constantly glued to one another.

After dancing around one another for what felt like centuries, you and Taehyung were together in the library one special afternoon — very much alone and very much aware of that.

It was rather quiet at first. You trying to read a book, while Taehyung browsed through numerous legal documents Namjoon and Jungkook gathered from Jimin’s latest visit.

A frustrated groan and the book you were reading was forgotten. “Need some help, Tae?”

Ever since you two became closer, Taehyung no longer wanted to hear ‘His Majesty’ falling from your lips. He treated you as an equal to him and here you were, even giving him a personal nickname that you only used in private.

“Please. These documents are going to be the death of me,” he grumbles, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Hiding your smile, you pull up a seat beside him, leafing through the many aged scrolls. “Wow, Yoongi wasn’t kidding when he said we would be busy…”

“Not the kind of busy, I want to be,” you hear the blue-haired man complain under his breath.

You two work in silence despite the ever growing tension. Hours pass by and you two are still nowhere near done. You notice the stars are beginning to light the sky outside the window, the lantern dimming with the wax melting.

Moaning, you stretch, arms lifted above your head, your body taunt for just a split moment. You miss the way Taehyung’s mouth waters at the sight of slightly exposed skin - your navel. He draws his gaze away quickly, leaning forward to reach another document.

Unfortunately (read, fortunately), you’re also reaching for the same scroll. You tug, just as he pulls.

You go flying forward from the unexpected strength and Taehyung drops the scroll, immediately wrapping his arms around you to keep you from falling.

This close, you’re able to see just how long his lashes are. Wow. You blush.

“S-sorry,” you murmur, leaning up, your hands resting on his firm (has he been working out?) chest. You draw your gaze away from what may lay beneath the silken robes, eyes meeting his.

It’s quiet, save for the occasional drip of melting candle wax and the quiet creaks of the castle walls.

Taehyung can’t help the way his heart beats. You look breathtakingly beautiful in the dim lighting, similar to how you looked on the cabin porch all those months ago.

It’s now or never, he thinks. Fuck it—

“I want you.” Taehyung whispers, worried he’ll scare you away.

You draw back just slightly, drinking in his gaze. There’s not a single sign of hesitation or lie in his warm, brown eyes.  

“As do I,” you smile, sliding your hand up to gently cup his cheek.

He hums, tension bleeding out of his body at your response. He melts into your touch much in the same way his dog counterpart had many moons ago. “I love you, Y/N,” he breathes.

“I love you,” you confess, saying it out loud for the first time in your life. Taehyung’s eyes twinkle in the most beautiful way and it makes you feel like you’re floating on air.

“Let’s make a deal then,” you begin, leaning forward to press your forehead against his. “I’ll call a truce. Let you be known as the fairest of them all, as long as you promise to never try to murder me again.” You’re teasing him, playfully giggling.

You no longer hold any grudges and you’ve done nothing but let Taehyung know this ever since you’ve agreed to stay and live with him. Now, though, you know he finally hears and believes you.

Taehyung can’t help the smile that takes over. It’s boxy and youthful, lighting up his face in a boyish way and you love this expression on him more than anything. “Sure. And…” he wraps an arm tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “If you still love me in one year, we’ll get married.”

You scoff, but there isn’t any heat to your words. “What makes you think I’ll agree to that?”

“Because I love you and you love me, if I remember correctly,” he teases cheekily. You chuckle, melting into his embrace.

“Okay,” you whisper, agreeing to so much more.

“Okay?” he asks, just to make sure.

“Okay — yes. I’ll marry you, if you still love me in one year,” you giggle, agreeing.

Taehyung laughs and it is the single, most beautiful sound you’ve heard in all your life. You want to hear more of it and you want to be the reason for it even more.

“Now… before you let me officially court you, we need to finish these dreadful documents. And find out how to undo the curse on Jin. After all, we won’t hear the end of it if he’s not physically at the wedding!”

You nod, beaming, but you can’t help the way your heart flutters with how close Taehyung is beside you. “If you turn into a dog again, fair warning, I’m keeping you that way. Far cuter,” you tease.

Taehyung chuckles, “but then I can’t do this.”

Blinking, you draw back slightly. “Do what?”

He gives you a moment to reconsider, but you tilt your face and Taehyung leans in and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Do it again,” you whisper breathlessly, grip tightening on him.

Smiling, your lover leans down again. “As you wish, My Lady.”

You meet him halfway, your lips molding perfectly against his.

And so, as they say, in the Land of Fairytales…

Y/N and Taehyung lived Happily Ever After.

_______________________________________________

***Epilogue***

“Now that we’re married, we need to have an heir,” your husband logically reasons.

You laugh, turning to face him. You two have been recently wed and are now on your honeymoon.

All was well within the Land of Fairytales.

Jin was now a physical warlock again, no longer trapped inside the mirror. Said mirror was still in the throne room, though it now was kept as decoration and nostalgic memory more than anything else. He had decided to stay with you and Taehyung after he was set free, working alongside your husband as his close confidante and as Jin puts it, your personal ‘civilian consultant’. This meant that Jin would come and go as he pleases from the castle walls, blending in with everyone to get the latest details in case anything were to go awry for Taehyung or Jimin. How he got out of the mirror though… that is a tale for another time.

Now, onto the others: Jimin is happily running both Kingdoms while you and Taehyung are away. There’s a rumour floating around that he has eyes set on someone who’s just as stunning and kind-hearted as he. Jungkook and Hoseok remain the ever loyal, royal bodyguards. Though Hoseok smiles a lot more now that he’s got a brother in arms that he can trust to watch his back. Yoongi and Namjoon continue their royal advisor duties. In their spare time, along with Jin, the trio are browsing through ancient texts, learning more about the world of Magic and their endless properties.

Thus it leaves you and your husband. Married after a year of kisses, tears (good and bad), stargazing, browsing through magic texts, adventuring together to neighbouring kingdoms and worlds, and so much more. Together you’ve done it all and together you’ll continue to do it.

“Right now?” you tease, rubbing scented body oil onto your skin.

Taehyung watches you from his spot on your shared bed. He’s leaning down on his side and facing you, his eyes transfixed on you like a predator.

“All is well in the Kingdoms… we should have an heir,” Taehyung shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant.

“I dare say, you are just a horny dog,” you laugh, standing and knowing Taehyung is watching the way your silk robes fall around you, accentuating your curves for his eyes to feast upon.

“Is that new,” he wonders, sitting up to move towards the edge of the bed and reaching for you.

You hum, letting him pull you close so that his face rests happily against your chest.

“I bought it during our visit to the Fae Queen.”

Your husband makes a face and you laugh softly at that. “I didn’t like her.”

“Oh? She certainly took a liking to you. Heard all about how beautiful you are,” you continue to tease.

Taehyung huffs, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Don’t care,” he mumbles, listening to your heartbeat in your chest. “You are far more beautiful.”

“I love you,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair gently.

“And I,” he begins, drawing back and pulling you down onto the bed. You gasp, falling forward. Catching yourself, you caging him between you, your arms and legs on either side of him. “I absolutely love you,” he purrs, eyes flashing.

You lean down and he meets you halfway. You both kiss, softly at first, but soon it becomes more passionate and heated with every second that passed.

His fingers are tugging at the silken knot of your robe, undoing it quickly and you draw back just enough, lips never leaving his. You slide the robe off of you, letting it pool around your waist. Taehyung tugs it off, the cloth discarded somewhere in the room.

His tongue licks at your lips for entrance and you more than eagerly grant him access. He sighs into your mouth, one hand cradling your back while the other is gripping at your exposed thigh.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with lust.

“As are you, my Love,” you purr, pleasure seeping through you. You grind down ever so gently and he hisses, grip tightening on you. He’s hard now and you feel wetness pool into your centre at the stimulation.

The next moment, you’re pinned onto the bed, his lithe form above yours. “Fuck,” he grunts, eyes zeroing in on the lacy underwear you had chosen to wear to bed. “For me?” he wonders in awe.

You nod, biting on your bottom lip to hold back the whimper as his index finger drags down your cloth covered slit.

Smirking, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your lips. “Use your words, sweetheart. You know how I enjoy our chats.”

Seeing you roll your eyes, he laughs.

Reaching a hand down, he cups your breast as you had forgone a bra tonight, rolling the nipple beneath his thumb and groaning when you gasp. Bringing his face closer, his lips wrap around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth greedily. His tongue is hot and wet, fingers coming up to pinch the other one.

You gasp, head thrown back, fingers threading through his hair in delight. Taehyung has a very talented mouth.

He moves away, bringing his lips to your exposed throat, sucking and pressing wet, open kisses against your skin. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers hungrily.

Not one to let your husband have the reigns just yet, you lean back onto your elbows, spreading your legs a bit more. You watch the way Taehyung’s eyes darken and practically salivate when he notices how soaked your panties are.

“I want your tongue in my pussy,” you taunt. “Fucking me with it until I cum.”

“Yes,” he growls.

His hand immediately flies forward, one to keep your thigh apart and the other slipping underneath the red lace. You hiss when you feel his nail scrape slightly, just enough to tease you. Watching your reaction, he smirks before he sinks one finger into you. You gasp loudly, body arching in delight at the way he stretches you. Hell — he’s good at this too.

The sight is delicious. Taehyung’s whole hand inside your panties, stretching the fabric and bulging it while he fingers your wet, clenching hole.

He finger fucks you until your grinding down, a gasp leaving your lips, eyes squeezed shut. You look so beautiful, your own fingers gripping the bedsheets to hold onto something as Taehyung makes you fall apart.

“Tae - I asked for you mouth,” you whimper, eyes half-lidded as you gaze back at him, pleasure coursing through you.

“Is that so,” he teases, a lazy smirk on his handsome face.

God, how you hate and love that smirk all at the same time.

“Taehyung,” you beg.

It’s on deaf ears because he presses two fingers next, the burn making your head spin with want. He knows just how you like that stretch, the burn that soon turns to immense pleasure.

Without warning, he removes his fingers and spreads your thighs with ease. You gasp as he dives in like a starved man. The lace underwear is lifted to the side as his mouth is on you within a moment, sucking your folds. The lewd sounds that echo in the room are embarrassing and you bring an arm up to cover your face. Your husband is enjoying himself a little too much, groaning at your taste. He watches you, watches the way you writhe in pleasure.

“Look at me,” he warns authoritatively, eyes flashing, one hand slapping your thigh. You quickly pull your arm away, eyes meeting his. They’re like molten lava, burning you to the very core.

You watch him, watch the way he devours you like you are his last meal. You can’t help yourself, the gasps and whimpers of pleasure leaving you as you ever so gently grind down on his face, rubbing your pussy deliciously against his nose and mouth. Your juices are soaking his chin and yet, you want so much more. Sensing it’s not enough, he brings his fingers back to your core, teasing your clit before sinking them inside you along with his talented tongue. The sounds you make are making him harder than he’d like to admit, gingerly rutting himself into the bed for some relief.

“T-Tae,” you gasp, fingers finding his hair and tugging. “Ah — I’m c-cum—,” you gasp, eyes squeezed shut. The words aren’t even fully out of your mouth before you’re pushed off the edge, coming hard. Taehyung’s efforts doubling as he keeps you against his tongue, working you through your intense orgasm.

Your husband keeps his rhythm up, until your fingers begin to gently nudge him off of you. Finally pulling away, he smirks at you, bringing his soiled fingers to his lips and popping them into his mouth. You feel your stomach stir in delight at the way his eyes roll to the back of his head, sucking your juices off, the lewd scene making you groan in pleasure at the sight.

“You pervert,” you grumble, no bite to your words as you wrap a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. The kiss is anything but innocent, tongues battling for dominance as you taste yourself on him.

“Want you,” you pout, pulling away. There’s a string of saliva connecting the two of you and you bite back a giggle at the way his eyes darken. Not waiting another moment, you tug his pants down, eyes feasting on the delicious sight before you.

Taehyung is hard.

His cock is big and when you reach out to wrap your hand around him, he’s hard and heavy in your grip. You moan at the sight of precum on his tip. Bending, you bring your mouth to him. You lick at the slit, earning a hiss from your lover, his eyes half-lidded as he watches you press kittenish licks here and there, before sticking your tongue out and sliding from tip to top. You envelope your mouth around one of his balls, sucking obscenely and using your hand to jerk off his hard cock simultaneously.  His taste is something you can’t live without, you realize not for the first time.

You release him, popping off lewdly as you continue to suck on his cock, eyes fluttering close at the salty taste. You want to take him fully into your mouth — have him hold you down as you deepthroat and choke on his cock — have him facefuck you until you’re crying, but his fingers find their way into your hair, curling into a fist and tugging you up and off of him.

“Next time,” he growls, voice hard. “Right now, I need to be inside you.”

You gaze up at him, unable to believe this is the same man that once hated you and in turn, accidentally turned into your adorable pomeranian stray. Now he’s your most beloved, your cherished half to the very end.

“I love you,” you murmur, unable to stop the words from leaving you.

His gaze softens and he brings you close, pressing a warm, soft kiss to your lips. “I love you more,” he hums, lips leaving yours to trail down your throat. “Lay back,” he groans, leaning back on his heels as he languidly strokes his hardened length. You’re entranced by the sight, but his words have you scrambling to obey.

Not wasting another moment, you lay back against the pillows, easily and lewdly spreading your legs for your husband after slipping your panties off and dropping them to the side. His gaze is sinful as he watches you, dark fringe hanging over his eyes.

You can see the way he’s straining to hold himself back. A faint smirk ghosts your lips, purposely tilting your head back, your free hand trailing your index finger over your inner thigh, inching closer to your swollen core. You are completely naked before him and Taehyung feels his breath hitch.

“You brat,” he chuckles breathlessly.

He moves towards you and you grab at his arms, pulling him against you. Using your hand, you take his cock into your grasp, moving it closer towards your centre. You both watch as you push his head into your entrance. Moans leave both of you as he sinks into you completely, filling you so fucking perfectly.

“Teach me a lesson,” you purr, licking a strip along his exposed neck, trailing your lips upwards until you’re enveloping his ear in a teasing suck.

Taehyung hisses and before you know it, he’s pulled out of you with you suddenly flipped onto your front — hands and knees.

A thrill shoots up your spine at the dominating aura rolling off your lover. Despite his rough manhandling, you smile to yourself when you feel his breath ghost behind your ear, one hand smoothing down your spine lovingly. “Is this alright, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you breathe, arching your back into his touch.

Taehyung moans and you feel him enter you in this position, hitting a whole new level of ecstasy. Your eyes flutter shut as you grip at the bedsheets, arching and pressing yourself until he’s fully seated inside you.

He chuckles at the way you give in to him, pulling back and making you writhe in pleasure at the way his thick cock hits your deepest parts. Each push and pull against your walls making you gasp in pleasure.

Your husband draws back just enough to spread your ass cheeks, watching the way his length sinks back into you and he groans — the perv, you think, unable to keep yourself from clenching at the thought. The fact that he’s getting off to this as much as you are — by the gods, you love this man.

Taehyung grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging you up so that your back is arched and pressed firmly against his chest. He smirks against your ear, pounding into you with a harsher rhythm now. “Fuck, look at you,” he teases, but his voice is breathless and he’s having trouble trying to keep himself together with how good you feel.

He’s panting into your ear like an animal in heat, one hand now wrapped securely around your throat, the other on your hip in a bruising grip. You laugh breathlessly, head thrown back and eyes closed — you just know the marks will be beautiful tomorrow morning.

“Tae—,” you whimper, moving in tandem with him. You feel just how much he throbs inside you, his cock wants release — you know his end is near, too. You chase your own high, your hips undulating and moans leaving your throat — fuck, you feel so good right now.

Noticing the lacy red underwear that you had discarded aside earlier, you reach for them and beam in triumph when your fingers enclose around the soft material. Balling it in your hand, you tilt your head back to see him biting on his bottom lip, thrusts becoming sloppier as he gets closer to his end.

Smirking, you shove the lacy material into his mouth, keeping your hand enclosed so that he can’t spit your panties out.

Taehyung’s eyes widen at the sudden onslaught, dark orbs watching you with unrestrained lust. He hisses something, it’s garbled but you can make out an expletive and your name.

His hand leaves your hip, finding your clit and begins rubbing furiously with two, slender digits. You gasp at the sudden onslaught of sensations, one hand still wrapped tightly around your throat, keeping your face tipped upwards.

You open your eyes, meeting his dark orbs. So fucking beautiful.

“I-inside,” you gasp, “cum inside, T-Tae—!“

It’s all you manage to get out, his fingers abusing your swollen clit, the rub so deliciously hot — you scream his name, body arching tightly as the cord unexpectedly snaps. Your hands fly up, one gripping at his sweaty, firm shoulder, the other on his round ass; anchoring you as you reach another euphoric orgasm.

Taehyung groans, spit soaking and dripping from his mouth onto your ruined panties. Still, he keeps it as a makeshift gag, dark eyes watching you tauntingly. He’s surrounded by your scent right now, inhaling you deeply. He begins to fuck you like a raged animal and you take it because it feels so good.

Even though your body is sore and used, you let him continue his assault. It won’t feel satisfying until he cums deep inside you. Impregnating you with his seed — claiming you for his own.

A deep, warning groan leaves his throat.

You tilt your face to watch as Taehyung uses your body like the good cumslut you are to reach his end. His eyes are dark, brows furrowed. His gaze falls upon you and you muster a tired smirk.

“Cum,” you weakly order, a whimper leaving you at the way he’s fucking your tired, oversensitive pussy.

That moment is all he needs —

you feel his body tighten and then he drops down onto you, sloppily thrusting into your sweet cunt as he holds you down.

“F-fuck—,” he hisses through your underwear, pulling you tight against him as he buries his face in your neck — an animalistic growl echoing from his throat — bucking up into you desperately now.

It’s so filthy and dirty and you love it.

You gasp in pleasure, feeling the now drenched panties fall from his mouth and onto your back.

His mouth presses open, wet kisses wherever he can reach — your neck, shoulder blade, ear, your cheek.

Taehyung cums and he fills your sweet cunt with his thick, hot seed. You reach your hand back, grabbing at his side to anchor yourself as he uses your body a few more thrusts, riding out his orgasm, both your juices making a squelching sound each time he fucks into your swollen pussy again.

Despite the angle of your arm, you manage to pull him closer, gasping silently. He pumps you full of his hot cum, so much that you’re certain without his cock the ropes of jizz would leak out of you. Your breathing is harsh, body twitching ever so slightly at the feeling of being filled with Taehyung’s thick load.

Said man isn’t much better off either, he’s panting in delight, peppering your exposed skin with kisses as he rides his orgasm out, rope after rope of thick white filling you just like what he wants. Even when he stills, you can’t help the way your pussy clenches around him, an added spurt leaving his softening cock to fill you up even more.

“Mmm,” you giggle breathlessly, one hand reaching up to entangle your fingers into his soft hair. “Think I’m pregnant yet?”

Taehyung laughs, the happy sound making your heart stir. “We can always do it again,” he winks, slowly and carefully pulling himself from you. Your body is turned until your on your back, meeting warm, brown eyes. “You alright, sweetheart?” he wonders, wet fringe sticking to his forehead.

“Absolutely,” you smile softly, fingers quickly tugging him down for a deep kiss.

Taehyung kisses back, making sure he doesn’t crush you with his weight. You wince when he pulls away and worrisome eyes fall on you. “Y/N…”

Your gaze falls to your thighs and you flush at seeing just how wet they are, Taehyung’s cum seeping out of your swollen centre and soaking the bedsheets mixed with your own arousal. “My goodness, you came a lot, Your Majesty,” you coyly tease.

Said King groans, dropping his face into your neck, one arm sliding around your waist and pulling you against his chest. “Don’t tease me, my Love, I think I can go again.”

Your eyes widen a fraction and you feel heat stir inside you at the thought of being fucked like that again. “In a moment, I’m going to ride you,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I will only stop after you’ve filled me with another load of your seed.”

He laughs, the voice deep and soothing to your soul. “I truly, truly love you, Y/N.”

Tilting your face up, you meet his warm, loving gaze. There’s a bright smile on his handsome features, dark fringe hanging over his almond-shaped eyes and it makes your heart stir. Not just his beauty, but his soul and the feelings that fill you from the bottom of your heart because it’s him.

“And I,” you lean in closer; Taehyung meeting you halfway. “I truly love you, Taehyung.”

His arms feel like home and his lips… they’re just the icing on the cake of your happily ever after.

The End.

[shuadotcom]

Convention Crush | KNJ

➛ Summary: You’re spending your first anime convention alone, in one half of a couple’s cosplay, until you meet a new group of friends and your other fictional half. ➛ Pairing: Namjoon x Gender Neutral!Reader ➛ Genre: Fluff, slice of life ➛ Rating: PG ➛ Warnings: Like two curse words but nothing else ➛ Word Count: 1.7k ➛ A/N: For BHQ’s Anime Club Event! Thank you @nightowls388​ for the prompts! 💚

nightowls388 said: Carese darling!! May I has Namjoon in spirited away with dialogue prompt 10 please :D

The hotel is loud and bustling with life as you walk through the doors. A group of teenagers dressed as various Naruto characters runs past you, arms back and backs bent in classic “Naruto run” stance. You weave through a group of My Hero Academia cosplayers to the registration table to get your convention pass.

Once the lanyard is around your neck, you beeline for the hotel’s attached Starbucks. You’ll need the caffeine if you want to survive your first anime convention alone. You’re supposed to be here with your best friend, but Jungkook decided to catch the flu two days ago. The four-day pass was non-refundable, and you weren’t about to lose out on $70 that you barely had to begin with. So, here you are, alone in a sea of over-excited cosplayers and exhausted parents, in one half of a couple’s costume, not even sure where to begin.

“Hi!” A group of teenagers dressed in various Studio Ghibli cosplays approaches you as you head to the escalator for the main convention floor. “You’re Chihiro, right?” A girl dressed as Princess Mononoke asks, gesturing to your pink bathhouse uniform.

“I am.” You offer a nervous smile, unsure where this is going.

“Can we take a picture with you?! We don’t have anyone from Spirited Away in our group!”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” They all crowd around you, squishing you between a Howl and a Kiki as they get a passerby to take a picture of you all. As soon as the camera shutter goes off a few times, they all thank you in a rush and are gone just as quickly, sprinting up the escalator and disappearing into the crowd.

Still reeling from how fast-paced the interaction was, you finally step onto the escalator and fish the convention schedule from your backpack to scan the upcoming events. An ask the cast panel for Demon Slayer could be interesting, not that you’re sure what that consists of, but that’s one of your favorite anime and you have to start somewhere.

Too absorbed in the schedule, you don’t notice the group of men crossing in front of you at the same time you step off the escalator until you bump into one of them, dropping the pamphlet.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” you reach down to grab the dropped paper, luckily still clutching your coffee safely to your chest.

“No problem, I got it,” One of the men bends at the same time as you and picks your pamphlet up. It’s not until you really look at him that you notice the black bob wig, blue pants, and white Haori.

“Oh! You’re Haku!”

He flashes you a dimpled smile as he takes in your outfit. “And you’re Chihiro. What are the odds.” You share a laugh, both of your hands grasping either side of the pamphlet longer than is probably necessary.

“Ahem.” A throat clear next to you has you both snapping out of the moment you share, remembering the other people he’s with. You make eye contact with a grey-haired man wearing the signature volleyball costume from Haikyuu. Checking the number on his jersey, you deduce he’s dressed as Sugawara. “This is a super cute moment and all, but the AMV contest starts in like fifteen minutes, and we need to get good seats. You can come with us if you want.” He proposes the last part to you.

“Ah, well I was going to go to an ask the cast panel.” Haku, Sugawara, and the other two men with them dressed as Ash Ketchum and Eren Yeager all give you the same pointed look.

“Is this your first anime convention?” Haku asks.

“Yes...how did you know?”

“No one who comes to these things often would ever put themselves through an ask the cast panel. It’s just a bunch of high schoolers being loud and obnoxious, pretending to be the characters. Total shit show.” Sugawara says matter of factly. “Were your friends really gonna have you suffer through that?”

“I’m actually here alone.” The four of them share a look before Haku turns back to you.

“That means you have to hang out with us. We can’t let you fall into any first-timer traps.” He shoots you another smile that’s all dimples, and you feel your pulse quicken. Even under the wig, he’s the most attractive man you’ve seen all day. Maybe even all your life.

“Okay.” You may have just met these men, but you don’t have any internal alarm bells going off about spending time with them. Your possible blooming crush on Haku aside, you don’t feel any negative vibes.

“Now that that’s settled let’s go! I’m not sitting in the back of the room for the contest!” Sugawara takes the lead as you all fall in line and follow him to one of the main meeting rooms.

As the day wears on, you’re more than happy that you decided to spend your time with your new friends instead of wandering alone, letting the four of them take you to various panels that they deem worthy of your time. Haku, whom you now know as Namjoon, is nothing but sweet to you all day. He explains that he and his friends have been going to anime conventions since high school, and now that they’re all seasoned college students, they still make it a point to attend. He mentions that he’s dressed as Haku because Jin, his roommate who’s the most handsome Erin Yeager you’ve witnessed at the convention, was supposed to be Chihiro but backed out last minute for the “cooler” cosplay instead.

Sugawara, who you find out is named Yoongi, is roommates with the fourth member of the quartet, Hoseok, dressed as a very compelling Ash Ketchum. When you compliment him, he flashes you the biggest, sunniest smile you’ve ever laid eyes on. After the AMV contest, they take you to a History of Horror in Manga discussion, much to Hoseok’s constant complaints. Around lunchtime, the five of you leave the hotel and cross the street to look for food. After Jin and Hoseok argue over sushi versus burgers they ultimately have you choose. You opt for chicken, much to everyone’s delight.

Out of everyone, you find yourself talking more one on one to Namjoon, finding out you have quite a few things in common. You both share a love for music and nature and are plant parents, although you tend to kill more plants than keep them alive. Namjoon promises he’ll give you tips on keeping your plant babies alive and grins at you for what feels like the fiftieth time of the day. Each time, your stomach does somersaults, and you feel your skin heat up.

At the end of the night, as you’re all leaving the 18+ Bad Fanfiction Reading panel, you almost don’t want to part ways.

“We can’t let you leave without getting your number!” Jin shoves his phone into your hands, demanding you put your digits in. The other men do the same, with Namjoon being last, hand shaking as he presents his phone. A series of four beeps come through on your phone, signifying the text messages from the group.

All of you are staying upstairs in the hotel rooms, so together, you head for the guest-only elevators as Yoongi announces the panels and events he’s planning for you all to go to tomorrow. Hoseok makes it a point to say that you’re included and that you’re now friends, therefore you have no choice but to spend the rest of the convention with them. Of course, you don’t object and agree to meet them downstairs tomorrow morning.

Your room is on the 8th floor, while their rooms are on the 10th, so you reach your floor first. Preparing to say your goodbyes for the night, you step out of the elevator and send a wave, but before the doors close, Namjoon is shoved out beside you.

“Joon will walk you to your room!” Hoseok calls as the doors close.

“Yeah, we’ll see you in a few, Namjoon!” Yoongi adds, then the doors are shut, and the elevator keeps going up.

Namjoon scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “Uh, please lead the way. I’ll make sure you get to your room, okay.”

Feeling nervous yourself, you simply nod as he follows you the short distance to your room.

“This is me,” you move to the door, and you both stop in front of it. Seconds tick by with the two of you staring at one another while you try and come up with something to say.

“Today was great,” Namjoon says at the same time you do, making both of you chuckle. “Sorry, go ahead first.”

“I just wanted to say thank you for inviting me along with you all today. I had a lot of fun and didn’t think I could’ve done so if I was by myself.”

“Really?” Namjoon says, looking surprised. “I thought we would’ve been a little too high energy for you. You really had a good time? Today made you happy?”

“Yes. I am happy. Because I was able to meet someone like you.” You blurt the latter part out and watch as his eyes widen and a dark shade of red blossoms over his cheeks.

“I, uh, I’m glad you feel that way. I’m really happy I was able to meet someone like you too.” Namjoon’s eyes dart down to your lips momentarily before he lets out a cough. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning. Make sure to meet us downstairs at ten on the dot. If you’re late, Jin will probably nag you for the rest of the convention.” He hesitates momentarily, then reaches out to pull you into a hug. You instantly melt in his hold, inhaling the warm cinnamon scent of whatever Namjoon’s got on.

Your grip on his waist tightens at the same time his arms around your shoulders do. You’re not sure who pulls away first, but reluctantly, you do release each other. Namjoon gives you another goodbye, and then he’s shuffling down the hallway and back towards the elevator.

Once he’s around the corner, you let yourself into your room, his scent still in your nose, and the feeling of his toned arms around you still lingering. How you managed to run into a great group of friends on the first day, you don’t know, but you’re not about to question it. The only thing you worry about is how you can make your cosplay planned for day two as cute as possible, now that you’ve got someone to impress.

[idy-ll-ique]

Shady.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Requested: Nope

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warning: Age gap, One (1) Non-Consensual Kiss, mention of violence, blood, death.

Summary: Y/N and her friends decide to visit the new bar that opened in their city. Unfortunately, things don't work out well.

Author's Note: I didn't post something for a long time so here y'all go. I don't really know what I've written but I'm still putting this up lmfao

---

Y/N POV:

"Are you sure we should be here? This place looks kinda shady," I muttered, clutching my best friend's t-shirt from behind as we walked into the dimly lit bar. He scoffed as the other two guys behind me sighed.

"Loosen up, sweetheart! You'll have fun here! Look, they're playing songs and the bar looks pretty loaded," Trystan chuckled. Jack, who stood in front of me, nodded. Shawn patted me on the back, grinning. The four of us were out for a few drinks: the boys told me there was a new bar in town and we were here to check it out.

We walked up to the bar and sat down in front of the bartender. "Four beers, please," Jack ordered and the bartender nodded. I glanced around the room, one of my hands still on Trystan's thigh. "Will you chill? There's nothing to be afraid of here!" Trystan sighed loudly.

"Fine," I mumbled, suddenly noticing someone's eyes on me. He was a very handsome man, I decided. Sitting at a booth alone, he was drinking wine. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed the drink. I looked away from him, staring was rude. I joked around with my friends as we had our mugs of beer.

I was laughing at a hilarious joke Shawn cracked when a gunshot echoed around the room. I screamed, shut my eyes and covered my ears.

"You three! Step aside!" I opened my eyes to see a man standing in front of me, a smirk on his face. I recognized him immediately. Three of his goons took hold of Jack, Trystan and Shawn, pulling them out of their seats. They held guns to my friends' heads. "Mr Dalton, please, spare them—"

"You don't tell me what to do and what not to do, sweetheart," he drawled uninterestedly, raising an eyebrow at me. I looked around the room, cringing a bit when I noticed that I was the only girl around. Everyone, including the man who was looking at me before, were staring at me.

They all had shocked expressions on their faces, except that handsome man. He looked like he would burst out in anger any second now. "What do you want?" I whispered and my breath hitched as Dalton's hand reached forward.

He was about to caress my cheeks when the handsome man jumped to his feet, flipping the table in front of him. He took out a gun and pointed it at Rogue Dalton, the mobster boss who was currently… ahem… touching me. That man's jaw was clenched hard. "Ah, Stan. Long time no see, my friend," Dalton said with faux affection, smiling at Stan.

"Leave the girl alone," Stan growled, glaring at Dalton. "Oh, you wanna have a night with her, too? We can arrange for tomorrow," Dalton snorted. I scrunched my nose.

A night with Dalton? Did he mean sex? Hard pass, he had a reputation of being a womanizer. "Let her go, I'm warning you!" Stan yelled. "Or what? Don't tell me you know this girl. Wittle Sebastian Stan has a girlfriend? How cute," Dalton crooned and I cringed at his tone.

Ah, so the name of the man who was currently defending me was Sebastian Stan. I had to say, it was a nice name. At least he was on my side, I couldn't believe I thought he was a creep. How did Rogue Dalton know him? They talked as though they were rivals. I think Sebastian belonged to a mob, too.

Dalton's hand reached out and grabbed my jaw, forcing me to look at him. "You don't have a choice in this, baby girl, you're coming with me. I'm not letting a pretty bird like you escape," he hissed in my face, forcibly pressing his lips to mine.

I screamed in my throat, my eyes going wide. I kept my lips sealed tightly, not allowing his tongue entry in my mouth. "Oh, you wanna play hard to get, huh? I see how it is. Whatever you wish, ma'am." He pulled away and raised his other hand, smacking me across the face.

Tears brimmed my eyes, it hurt so much. "Y/N—" Shawn tried yelling but was silenced by the man holding him at gunpoint. I glanced at Sebastian with wide, scared eyes, silently begging him to do something about Dalton.

Sebastian was glaring at Dalton, seething. I could see his chest heaving in the dim bar. "Evans!" he yelled all of a sudden, startling me. Now who was Evans? A few seconds later, at least 15 other people entered the bar. Wait, did Sebastian run his own mob?

Dalton's men were greatly outnumbered by Sebastian's. "Fire!" Sebastian screamed and his men started shooting at Dalton and his goons. I screeched, hoping I wouldn't get hit by a bullet.

As soon as Dalton let go of me, I jumped off the high-stool. Sebastian beckoned me over and I ran to him. I threw my arms around his shoulders, burying my face in his neck. "You're fine, I got you," he whispered to me, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist. He turned around, shielding me from the bullets that flew across the room.

He rubbed my back to help even out my breathing. I stayed how I was until the bar went quiet. "It's okay to look."

I slightly pulled away from Sebastian and peeked over his shoulder. Rogue Dalton was lying on the floor, dead. So were all his men. Shawn, Jack and Trystan were fine, hiding under a table. "Thank you," I told Sebastian gratefully. He gave me a soft smile. "No worries. I'm glad you're safe."

I took a few steps away from Sebastian, nodding at him. I walked over to my friends as they came out of hiding. "Thank you, Mr Stan, for saving our friend," Jack said thankfully. "It's quite alright, really. I'm glad I could help. How are you guys? Everything okay?" Sebastian asked worriedly.

Trystan slowly took his hand off his forearm and I saw blood. "You were shot? Come to my place, I'll have you fixed in no time," Sebastian sighed and we walked out of the bar. "Excuse me, don't mind me asking, but… are you a mobster boss, too?" I asked Sebastian curiously.

"I am, yes. Most of the time I'm in Romania, but I got bored. I came here and met Dalton. We didn't get along, as you'd have witnessed," he replied. "Now what, though? We leave the dead bodies as they are in the bar?" Jack asked.

"Why not?" one of Sebastian's friends, a handsome, dark skinned man grinned at us. "Oh, yeah, by the way, these two are my friends, Anthony Mackie and Chris Evans. I don't know your names," Sebastian chuckled. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N, these three are my friends, Jack, Trystan and Shawn. We go to college together," I smiled.

"Good, what are you studying?" The seven of us got into Sebastian's 7-seater car. Chris drove, Anthony sat next to him. Sebastian, Trystan and I sat in the middle while Jack and Shawn sat behind us. I was sitting between Sebastian and Trystan.

Sebastian put his arm on the backrest, around my shoulders. Unconsciously, I shifted closer to him. I trusted Sebastian a lot, he saved me from molestation. "We're all studying mechanical engineering," Jack grinned.

"Yeah, there aren't many girls in our batch. Y/N was quite lonely all the time, so we made friends with her. It's been 3 years," Trystan chuckled weakly. "That is sweet of you guys. I assume you're the same age?" Anthony chortled. "Yeah, we're all 26," Shawn nodded.

We soon reached Sebastian's place and got out of the car. My jaw dropped— that mansion was huge. "Whoa, you live here?" Jack gasped loudly. "I do, yes. Come in, I'll take you to the infirmary." Sebastian and Trystan walked towards the infirmary. Jack and Shawn decided to go with them but I stayed back with Anthony and Chris.

"May we show you to the sitting room, o fair lady?" Chris joked, holding his hand out. "Certainly, o kind sir," I laughed, taking his hand. They took me to the sitting room of the mansion. I sat on one of the couches while Anthony told someone to make hot chocolate for me.

Hot chocolate sounded really good right now, so I didn't argue. "Um, is he always this friendly, Sebastian?" I asked the two men. They glanced at each other.

"Not really, no. He's usually very intimidating. I don't know what happened to him. It's fun to see him like this, caring and friendly. This might be the first time he's acting so nice," Chris explained. Wow, I got lucky, I guess. "That's awesome. He seems young, too." I bit my lip, blushing softly.

"Oh, he's 38. I think you'd make a pretty good couple," Anthony snorted. "What makes you think he'd be interested in dating me?" I huffed, running a hand through my hair. "Literally our previous conversation. His behavior changed when you were in danger, Y/N."

He got me there.

---

Sebastian POV:

"So, uh, what's Y/N like? What does she enjoy doing?"

Jack and Shawn laughed, startling me. "I knew that question would come up! We give you our blessings, you'd make a brilliant couple. Just be yourself, dude and show her affection. She likes affection. Trust me," Jack grinned.

I smiled softly as Trystan sat up, his arm wrapped in a bandage. "Why don't you guys stay the night? I can have 2 rooms prepared, one for Y/N and the other for you three," I expressed suddenly.

"That would be great, thank you very much! You're too kind for a mobster boss," Shawn smiled. "Y/N has my heart and you three are her best friends, this is the least I can do for you," I chuckled, running a hand through my hair. We walked out of the infirmary and I decided to take them to the sitting room.

When we were close to the room, I could hear boisterous laughter coming from inside. "I was so relieved when I found out that I passed my test. I didn't even study!" Anthony and Chris were doubled over, clutching their stomachs, tears in their eyes. Y/N was giggling to herself, a mug of hot chocolate in her hands.

My eyes lit up when I noticed that the mug she was holding said #1 Mobster. It was a gag gift from Chris, but I kept it because I loved it so much. Here was a girl I liked, drinking hot chocolate from my mug, sitting on the couch in my home. That scene warmed my heart.

I walked into the room and they all looked at me. "Seb, hey," Mackie smiled. I nodded in acknowledgement. "Are you doing okay, Y/N?" I asked her softly, sitting next to her. "Yes. This was really good," she chuckled, glancing at the mug.

I put my arm around her shoulders and smirked slightly when I saw the blush that arose on her cheeks. She snuggled closer to me, laying her head on my shoulder. I took the empty mug from her hands and kept it aside. For a few minutes silence fell between us; I stared at Y/N's face while she looked down at her lap.

I was about to say something when I suddenly noticed the silence in the room. I took my eyes off Y/N and looked around. There was no one else in the room except for us. "Where did everyone go?" Y/N asked me quietly. "To sleep, I guess. It's late, you should go, too." Y/N whined, clutching my t-shirt.

"My head hurts and I'm tired," she sniffled. I gathered her up in my arms, pressing a long kiss to her forehead. By now, the both of us were aware that we obviously had feelings for each other. We weren't fools. "I'll take you to your room," I whispered in her ear. I carried her bridal style when she nodded, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

Y/N fell asleep on our way to her room, which I found extremely endearing.

"Y/N, wake up," I whispered as I put her down on the bed. She yawned and blinked her eyes open. "Hm?" she moaned. "Wear this." I opened the wardrobe in the room and took out my t-shirt, handing it to her. I kept my extra clothes in this room. The t-shirt was extremely loose and soft.

"Thank y—" Before she could finish the sentence, I strode over to her and cupped her cheeks, intensely staring into her eyes. "What?" she mumbled shyly. "Do you like me?" I asked her, gently stroking her cheeks with my thumbs. "I— You know..." she stuttered, looking away as a blush spread across her cheeks. That confirmed a yes.

I desperately wanted to kiss her but I also didn't want to make her uncomfortable. From such a close distance, I could see some small cuts on her lips left from when Rogue had forcibly kissed her. That thought alone made my blood boil.

So instead of kissing her on the lips, I gave her a sweet peck on the cheek. "I really like you, too," I smiled at her. She grinned at me and threw her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly. My smile widened unconsciously when I hugged back.

After the hug, Y/N changed her clothes while I respectfully looked away. Then I gave her one more kiss on the cheek and walked out of the room.

---

I hurried towards the dining room, late. It was 10:30 in the morning. When I finally entered the room, everyone inside looked at me. I glanced around, stopping when I saw Y/N. She was still in the t-shirt I gave her last night, a cup of coffee in her hands.

Jack, Trystan and Shawn were wearing the clothes I provided, too. "Hey," I smiled, walking towards Y/N. She smiled when I put my arm around her shoulders, kissing her temple. "Ooh, did you two fondue?" Anthony asked excitedly, causing me to roll my eyes.

Chris blushed as the four youngsters looked around, confused. "Fondue…?" Jack asked slowly. "Sex." Jack and Trystan went bright red while Shawn smirked. "Did you?" he asked Y/N in a teasing, affectionate tone.

"We didn't. We said we liked each other and hugged, that is it."

"I believe it's official, then, Y/N and Sebastian are dating!" Chris grinned. "Hurray!" Everyone cheered as I gave her a sweet kiss on her lips, chuckling. I pulled away and the two of us shared soft smiles.

---

A/N: Hi, leave a like!

[grogusmum]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass it on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love. 💖

Aw Sweet Rowan!

I'm sorry it took me a hot minute to do this...

I saw this and immediately went to check out your self-rec list!! I'm so excited to dig in. I am so behind in reading, there are so many lovely fics to read it's good to have a list of my favorite writers' favs! 💚

Thank you for thinking of me when choosing 5 writers to forward this ask to.

Though I have to say this is like picking favorite children!! 🤣😬 (I'm sorry to the fics I did not choose, some maybe better than others but there are parts that are all my favorite, and I enjoyed writing all of them.

Okay so I indulged a little more by talking a little bit about them (self-indulgent rambling AND shameless self-promotion?! DING DING DING That is correct! Show them what they've won Vanna!)

Seven Tears encompasses all the reasons I write fic I think. It is therapeutic. It allows me to place characters I love in places and situations I want to see. I love the fae and the fantastical, making Ezra a selkie is just... neat. Some see Ezra as morally gray... I think he is a good man who has done bad things in a cutthroat universe, but he carries every one of them. Some selkie legends say the seals house the human souls of the condemned or fallen angels. Also, that male selkies are extremely handsome dark-haired men having great seductive powers... ahem, yes. And finally my fantasy of going to Ireland someday where to this day the belief in the fae is still very common. I love the mix of old and new. Seven Tears is set mid-century, thereabouts in the late 50s and it affords me the opportunity to have gas lamps and radios, horse-drawn carts, and big band music. It's almost finished and it's been so fun playing in Ireland with that sweet menace selkie Ezra!

Oberyn and the Merling particularly the first installment Oberyn’s Merling, which was meant to be a stand-alone, but after some coaxing (see: yelling in my DMs) from a certain kindred I know @oonajaeadira I turned it into a series. This one really let me play with the ethereal and especially at the beginning with mostly descriptive writing with little dialogue which was challenging and fun. Oberyn is a force to be reckoned with and I loved giving him something new that could turn tables a little on expectations etc. I'm happy to say it's recently finished (with plenty of room to play with one-shots, drabbles etc. 😉)

In Which, I Go To My Very First Day of School, or Dad Leaves Me With A Stranger and A Bunch of Random Other Kids, But It Could Have Been Worse (thank you @jessie-writes-things for loving the first one so much you suggested one with din sending him off to preschool) this was my second Grogu POV and while each one is incredibly fun, and has bits I love so much that picking one story is what it's like picking from a litter of adorable and sassy golden retrievers. But I was really finding his voice here, I continued to hone it, but this one really laid the groundwork, the other one that I had a hard time not choosing was Father's Day. Oops this is sort of cheating... I'll blame Grogu for being so cute and sassy and fun (I can hear him now, EXCUSE ME MA'AM?!)

The Hedge Witch and the Mercenary I have said in a couple places this one almost didn't see the light of day. I am not ready to say more about why just a lot of the usual writer neurosis, I suppose. I had it written, only needing to figure out how to wrap it up in a way that it could be a satisfying one-shot if I decided not to continue, but I just thought it wasn't going to measure up. I was dumbstruck by the response, and I thank everyone who commented and reblogged, who let me know it was something they thought about beyond the confines of while it was in front of them. I'm getting teary thinking about it right now. Another recently complete series, that I can see myself visiting again to share little one-shots, vignettes etc about life with Pero and Mariposa.

99 Miles From L.A. as I have said elsewhere poor Frankie gets the honor of carrying most of my angst. I account it to his hangdog expression, his very real-world faults, and foibles, and his incredibly strong broad shoulders on which that angst can be carried. (thank you, sweet mans) I use a lot of music in my fics, as a mood maker, inspiration, to express feelings, sometimes they played in the story etc. But here I decided to use the song in all four ways, plus to organize the action. I also used photos a little differently. All of this came together in a fic that then languished, it was written early in my time on here and it had all of 5 people tagged (thank you so much for that early support 💚)

Tagging with no pressure: please start your own post so it doesnt get too long

(If you've already done it, please tag me on your list I'd love to see it if I missed your post)

@oonajaeadira @insomniamamma @writeforfandoms @scribbledghost @honestly-shite @jessie-writes-things

[yungidreamer]

Fragile

Summary: It’s fall in Paris and the jazz club Le Chat Noir is bored immortal vampire Yunho’s favorite hunting grounds. Among the crush of bodies, there to see the show and dance the night away, San takes a seat at his table. Will San get more than he bargained for when he accepts a drink and a dance with the handsome stranger at the hottest place in town?

Wordcount: 5.9k

Content warnings: very much NSFW, vampire bites and blood drinking, references to casual sex with multiple partners, slightly subby San, slightly dom Yunho, oral sex, hand job, the risk of death, and two hedonists seeking pleasure with each other. It is heavily implied that both San and Yunho are bi/pan in orientation.

La Chat Noir, Paris France, 1924

Music flowed through the air of the club, moving languorously as if the smoke in the air slowed its passage. A faint buzzing sound hid behind it thanks to the low light of the new fangled bulbs that were tucked into sconces on the walls that mimicked the old gas lights that had been in use a mere decade or so ago. Such a small amount of time, Yunho sighed. Some days he missed their constant hiss, that sound just felt...calming. Like a constant whisper, telling the secrets of the nightowls and scoundrels who stayed out in the city during those hours that belonged to people like him.

Still, the place was as good a hunting ground as he had ever found. People didn’t change. They were always chasing that moment of pleasure that made their short existence worthwhile. Always drinking, gorging and *ahem* loving their way through life as much as their status and circumstances would allow. So small, so finite, so… fragile. It was sad really. They seemed to struggle, at odds with the desire to live like they only had today while, nearly simultaneously, trying to live those mere 100 years some of them might have. If they were lucky. Though why they would want to live so long as their bodies deteriorated with each passing day was beyond him.

Eternity was bad enough with eternal youth. When you had to age. Yunho shuddered.

Pushing through the crush of youth, Yunho made his way towards the bar. The smell of bodies, sweat and skin, mixed with the tobacco of cigars and thin cigarettes all of the liberated women kept between their manicured fingers as they drank and laughed. Over that drifted the smell of whiskey, wine, and whatever spirits the bartenders were deciding to experiment with tonight.

Perfumes swam by on the air that surrounded their wearers. Musk, ambergris, vetiver, and hints of the sharp floral notes of women who still wore the classic rose or jasmine. With each one that passed Yunho couldn’t help but pause for half a second to see how well it matched the wearer. Was it a scent that accentuated the character of whoever it was on, or was it a mask; something false they put on as they tried to pretend, just for tonight they weren’t some nameless bookkeeper on the third floor of one of the new steel and glass monstrosities that reached vainly for the sky?

In the back of the last room he found a small round table, flicking over the little card that said Reserved as he took his seat. It was his table, it was always his table. From here he could watch the throngs kick and sway on the open dance floor, or the beautiful dancers as they performed their numbers to the music of the band. He absolutely loved their outfits, all silk and beading, showing so much of their delicate skin.

Maybe some things are improving with time, he reflected, sipping his Southside. Little of the taste came through to his taste buds, but the chill of the mint slid down his throat and the sharp tannin of the lime was tacky on his tongue. Plus, his trifles seemed to enjoy the freshness it brought to his lips and who was he to deny them that last… little… pleasure.

On the floor in the glare of the spotlight two sisters danced in unison in their feathers and silk. The rhinestones on their belts and cloche hats glinted as they moved to the music, flashing lushous stretches of their shapely legs. This was their third night performing at the club and word had gotten around. The club had filled just a little more with each passing night with everyone who wanted to catch the appropriately risque performance. Gentlemen brought their friends, and occasionally, the lady they hoped to sway with the low lights, the free music of the jazz, and the sensual movements of the dancers.

The more free spirited women came in small groups, and very occasionally, alone. Finally they were allowed to go out as they pleased, they could have jobs, smoke, and support themselves. The freedom was well deserved, if not always well or wisely used. Then again, who was he, or anyone else frankly, to tell them what to do with that freedom. Over the centuries he had certainly seen plenty of men squander that precious thing called freedom. Perhaps, if fate had changed by just a hair, he would have been one of the poor souls, living and dying in a flash, leaving barely a trace of his existence. But, fate had chosen a different path for him and instead he had seen centuries pass before him, time flowing like a rushing river. It was all much the same even if he could never step into the same stream twice.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” A voice asked, rising just high enough over the hum of the room to reach his ear. Yunho looked up to find a young man with sharp features standing near the back of the chair on the other side of the table. A quirk turned the corner of Yunho’s lips as he gave him an assessing look. It was brave of him to come and ask to share the table; it reeked of a confidence that Yunho liked.

“Please,” Yunho gestured to the chair, sitting up just a shade straighter. The young man nodded, gracefully slipping into the black lacquer chair. He was dressed in a fashionable suit in crisp black and white, perhaps stylish but not rich. Yunho didn’t think he had seen him before; he seemed like the sort he would have remembered. His hair was dark and glossy, almost like the chair he had taken a seat in. It was cut in a clean, modern style that made him look like he belonged in a place like this. His face was lovely, high cheekbones and smooth creamy skin that seemed to shine from the inside out with that warm glow that only health and youth could bestow.

“Are they as good as they have been hyped up to be?” The young man asked, keeping his narrow, dark eyes on the ladies in the spotlight.

“They are good,” Yunho agreed, leaning in so he didn’t have to raise his voice to be heard. He sipped from his glass, held with a blase confidence using only two fingers, eyes staying on his table companion.

“They’re beautiful,” He commented, sparing a glance for Yunho as he too leaned in towards the table.

“They’re pretty enough, and lovely in their shape,” Yunho agreed, though his eyes seemed unwilling to look back at the subjects of whom he spoke.

“The music is quite good as well, isn’t it?” He asked, trying not to look like he had noticed the gaze on him.

“It’s… intoxicating,” Yunho agreed. “Can I ask your name?”

“San,” the young man answered. “Choi San.”

“Hello San,” Yunho extended his free hand over the table to him. “I’m Yunho.”

“Nice to meet you,” San took the extended hand, giving it a firm, confident shake. Yunho held onto the warm hand just a couple of seconds longer than he ought to, enjoying the dry warmth of the other man’s palm in his. San let him, only drawing his hand back when Yunho let go.

“Are you new around here?” Yunho asked, curious about the man across from him for a number of reasons.

“Just moved here a few months ago,” San nodded. “Got my first job as a law clerk. The money is good enough and if I do well enough the prospects for promotion are good.”

“How fortunate you are,” Yunho smiled, tipping his glass to him encouragingly.

“My parents were happy enough,” San gave a small chuckle. “After all they spent on my education, they feel like I owe them nothing less.”

“Such dullards aren’t they,” Yunho commiserated. “Stuck in the past along with all of their ideas and mores.”

“Well, they certainly wouldn’t think a place like this is where I ought to be spending my time or money,” San agreed, happy to have found a comrade in arms.

“What’s the point in youth if you waste it shut in offices and school rooms,” Yunho asked rhetorically, a hand under his chin.

“Exactly,” San gave a single nod. “I work hard. I can spend my free time doing something fun, whatever that may be.”

“Is this your idea of fun?” There was a teasing edge to Yunho’s voice, like the cool touch of a blade as it brushed flesh without cutting it.

“Not sure yet,” San sat forward, giving Yunho an assessing look as he moved his chin to rest on the heel of his hand. “It’s my first time here, but at least the company seems promising.”

“Would you like something; a drink?” Yunho questioned, emptying the last of his drink from his glass.

“I can--” San started to stand before Yunho stopped him, simply raising a hand and, a moment later, almost as if she had been conjured from nothingness, a waitress appeared beside them.

“Two more,” Yunho said, passing her the empty glass. Without a word she nodded and walked away to do as she had been bid. It didn’t take long for their drinks to appear and Yunho picked his up, offering a silent toast to San before taking a sip. San followed suit, bringing the drink to his lips.

“This is quite good,” San said, looking at the drink again, after having had a taste.

“Isn’t it?” Yunho agreed. “Refreshing.”

“Yes,” San nodded, taking another sip as he noticed the light dim as the spotlight was snuffed. As the dancers left the floor he observed, “They were decent but maybe they didn’t quite live up to the hype.”

“Life rarely does,” a jadedness filled Yunho’s tone.

“Do you really find life here so dreary?” San felt a sympathy for him, slightly sad that the other man seemed to feel the world was so dull.

“Often,” Yunho admitted. “But sometimes there is a glimmer of intrigue to things.”

“I hope I won’t find myself so easily bored by the attractions of life here,” San chuckled.

“Don’t worry,” Yunho promised. “I’m a bit of a special case. I have perhaps seen too much to find fascination so easily anymore.” The band struck up again and the lights raised enough to allow people to get up and make their way onto the dance floor. Couples made their way out onto the floor that had been the platform for the performance. The low light and the slow jazz made the room feel small and intimate even as the couples brushed against one another on the dance floor.

“Would you like to dance with me?” Yunho asked, leaning as close as he could to whisper the question.

“Can we?” San’s eyes widened slightly at the suggestion.

“No one judges here,” Yunho assured him. “Look.” He gestured out to the floor and San’s gaze followed. Nestled in among the pairs of men and women were a few pairs of girls, arms clinging as they danced closely, and men swaying in each other's arms. Surprise flickered across San’s face. These things, they just weren’t usually done, and yet…

“Shall we?” Yunho stood up and extended a hand to San. For a beat, he just looked at it. Did he dare? Pressing his lips into a hard line, San stood up and took Yunho’s hand. With a victorious grin, Yunho led San out onto a dim corner of the dance floor.

San hadn’t noticed just how tall Yunho was when he was just sitting across from him. It was only when the other man pulled him more tightly against his body as they squeezed in among the other pairs, that he noticed how Yunho towered over him by a decent amount. San swallowed past his nerves and snaked his arms around the other man’s waist and chest. 

Yunho held him close, pressing the side of his jaw to the other man’s temple and breathing in the smell of him. Everything about San was warm and vibrant including his scent. He wore no cologne, not trying to disguise himself or be anything more than he was. Beneath the faint smell of soap was the scent of him, of his skin. Cedar and sage with notes of grapefruit and lime, and somewhere below that was something warm and masculine… like the old leather of an armchair in a study that had taken on a hint of the cigars that had been smoked there over the years.

Yunho’s mouth practically watered, knowing that San would taste so very good. He would be warm and nourishing, bringing Yunho that little step closer to feeling alive again. It wasn’t that he missed that fragile mortality that he had lost so long ago. Rather he loved that heat. The borrowed, clandestine taste of vitality. He could have both if he chose; immortality and that feel of his heart beating in his chest. Well, for a moment at least.

One song bled into a second and a third as an hour ticked by nearly unnoticed by the pair. The couples around them came and went, getting a little more drunk and a little more boisterous as the time passed.

“Would you like to go somewhere?” Yunho murmured into the shell of San’s ear before pulling back and hooking his finger under San’s chin to bring his eyes up to meet his own. San gave a brief nod and Yunho smiled, leaning down to brush a barely there kiss to the corner of San’s mouth.

“Your place?” Yunho proposed, offering an inviting smile. San nodded again, his gaze falling hungrily to Yunho’s lips. Leading the way through the crowd, Yunho took them both out onto the street, hailing the first passing cab.

Yunho pressed San back against the door to his apartment in the dimly lit hall of his floor. He let out a small moan as he fumbled in his pocket for the key he knew was there. Yunho’s lips on his were insistent even as they moved at a leisurely pace against his own. San had always had wants, desires, but never dared to act on them. Women were pretty, they were attractive, too, but there had always been that part of him that couldn’t help but watch as a confident man walked by. That confident swagger of a guy who knew exactly how sexy he was; it just set something in his stomach tingling.

San pulled away when he finally felt the cool metal in his palm, just enough to work the key in the lock with his slightly shaking hands. The door popped open and Yunho pushed them both inside the small studio that was San’s place. It was dim, only lit at the moment by the shine of the streetlights outside the single window on the wall opposite the door. Clicking the door closed behind them, Yunho pulled San tightly against him. He was hungry for him in more way than one.

San groped for the switch on the wall, reluctant to pull away from the embrace of the other man. He was afraid if he gave them too much space, a second to think at just the wrong moment, whatever was going to happen… wouldn’t. Giving up on the switch, San guided the other man towards the small brass framed bed located towards one side of the room. He pulled him along, guiding him without pulling away until he felt the edge of the frame hit the back of his calves. Dropping to a sitting position on the bed, San started fumbling with the button at the waist of Yunho’s pants.

“There’s no rush,” Yunho chuckled, putting his long elegant fingers over San’s, stilling them.

“Sorry,” San said quietly, thankful for the darkness that would hide his blush, or it would have, to someone other than a vampire. Yunho found it charming, almost quaint, how eager and yet shy he was. This clearly wasn’t a regular thing for him, unlike Yunho. It wasn’t that any warm body was good, but almost any would do and some he felt better about leaving half drained in some dark room than others. He’d try to be careful with San, after all, it might actually be nice to see him again sometime and that couldn’t happen with a body in the morgue.

Yunho took a seat, the springs of the bed creaking under their combined weight. Leaning in, Yunho cupped San’s cheek, guiding his face back to his for another kiss. San gladly leaned in to his slightly chilled lips, something he attributed to the chill of the fall weather outside. 

Yunho’s fingers brushed over his cheek and down to hold the side of his neck, feeling the soft, warm pulse just below. Following the same path as his fingers, Yunho’s lips brushed over the flushed skin until he found the right place. He licked, his teeth gently running over it, testing the other man’s reaction. The last thing he needed was to have him pull away, rip the tender flesh of his own neck open with a careless yank. When San only moaned and tilted his head to give the other man better access, Yunho took that as permission to have just a little taste.

As he sucked in a small bit of San’s flesh into his mouth his hand traveled down over the other man’s chest to tentatively rest on the growing erection still hidden beneath the soft wool of his suit. San sucked in his breath but didn’t pull away. Yunho bit down, feeling the trickle of blood spill into his mouth as he palmed San’s member. He felt it twitch as he fed from him, pleasure slinking through him with each gulping tug of Yunho’s mouth as he drank. He needed just enough for now, enough to warm his skin and fill his aching member to fullness. Tonight he wanted to have everything. With a lick he closed the cuts on San’s neck and pulled back to look at him, still flushed, still beautiful in his youthfulness.

San took a deep breath, the ripples of pleasure still rebounding in him. He couldn’t help but wonder why he had stopped. Had he done something wrong. Feeling inexplicably tired, he had to make an effort to open his eyes and look up into the gaze of the man beside him. Yunho smiled down at him with lips that San would swear looked a little sweeter, a little fuller, a little pinker than they had a few moments ago. It’s the aphrodisiac of the pleasure, it’s all in your head, he told himself.

“Can I touch you?” San asked, his dark eyes searching Yunho’s for signs that he was having second thoughts.

“Please,” Yunho agreed, guiding San’s hand to his now full erection. San went to his knees on the oak parquet that covered the floor of his apartment. His fingers, still feeling a little shaky, went to the warm black bone button that held the waistband of Yunho’s pants closed. It only took a second for him to slip the fastening through the slit in the fine fabric. With his fly open, Yunho lifted his hips to allow San to pull the clothes on the lower half of his body down and off, letting them pool around his ankles as the other man took a moment to gather his courage. Not yet ready to look up as butterflies fluttered in his stomach, San took a moment to gently pull off Yunho’s shoes, socks, and pants, carefully placing them near the foot of the bed on the floor. He turned, finally looking up to see Yunho, his shirt half unbuttoned from his collar down, leaning back casually, his long, hard dick framed by the inverted V from the last button on the placket as it opened down to the lower hem. He had never seen anything so tempting in his life. From the muscled smoothness of his chest and the breadth of his still covered shoulders, to his thick muscular thighs, Yunho was temptation.

“Won’t you taste me?” Yunho asked, running the fingertips of one hand up the inside of his thigh. San nodded, scooting forward and sitting on his heels to bring himself just a little higher between Yunho’s legs. Using one hand for leverage, San wrapped the other around the base of Yunho’s cock and brought it to his lips. He had never tasted another man, but, having been on the other end of such a thing more than once, he had a fair idea of where to start. Taking just the head into his mouth, he swirled his tongue around the tip. Yunho let out the sweetest low, rumbling moan San had ever heard.

The hand on Yunho’s thigh dropped so that San could reach down and stroke himself lightly, needing just a little relief, a little sensation as he strained against his pants. When Yunho’s hand caressed his cheek, San opened his eyes to look at him up the plane of his body. A shock of lust pooled in his stomach and he slid his mouth further down, watching pleasure flow across the features of the other man, lit only in profile from the dim light outside. The dimness and quiet of the room somehow made every sound, every movement just that shade more intense.

“You have a wonderful mouth,” Yunho complemented, a breathlessness suffusing his voice. Part of San wanted to say thank you, but most of him just wanted to show the other man just how good his mouth was. Sinking down until the tip brushed against the back of his throat, San tested his limits. He wanted all of him, he wanted to devour him with pleasure, but Yunho was not small. He wasn’t even average, if San would have taken a guess based on himself and on peeks he had gotten of others. Yunho was big, and even when he had sunk down until he felt him fill his mouth and brush the soft skin at the back of his throat, he had barely taken 2/3rds of him in.

San bobbed up and down a few more times, practicing letting his jaw move loosely over Yunho’s length as he built up a slick of saliva that eased his movements. Trying again, San sunk down to see how far he could go, pushing past that discomfort to feel the head slide down against the back of his throat. A tickle built in his throat and tears pooled in his eyes as he pulled off to cough.

“It’s okay, sweets,” Yunho leaned forward, cradling San’s teary cheeks in his hands. “I know I’m big, it feels good even if you can’t take it all.”

“I—” San started before the tickle built back up and he had to cough again, sniffling as his nose ran slightly from the sensation and his tears. “I know, but I like the feel of you, I like the way you slide into me.”

“Just don’t force yourself,” Yunho agreed, swiping away the tears with the pads of his thumbs. “We have time and those sweet lips feel wonderful wrapped around me.” San nodded, blinking away the blur to his vision a few more times before he parted his lips and took Yunho back in his mouth, a little more cautiously this time.

Sliding his head up and down what he could take of his length, San sucked and licked and tasted the salty treat that was Yunho. As he worked him, he could taste the gooey tang of his pre-cum coating his tongue now and again as his pleasure built. Yunho watched him, eyes hooded as the sight of San throwing himself into what he was doing with near abandon added to the rising tide of pleasure that was flooding him.

San still pushed himself, diving down the length of Yunho until he couldn’t struggle past his length and gagged or had his throat spasm at the invasion. Each time Yunho groaned, often twitching at the sensation of the muscles in San’s throat stroking him. When he managed to slide him particularly far down his throat he was rewarded with the sight of Yunho throwing his head back and letting out a breathless gasp.

“Ahh, fuck,” he panted, one hand gripping the sheets and another fisting in San’s soft hair. “I’m close… I’m so close.” San took this as encouragement, moving faster, then, going as deeply as he could and pausing for as long as his body would let him. It took only a few times of San repeating this to push Yunho over the edge and he was rewarded with the feel of the pulsing gush of the other man coming down his throat. It was warm and slick and moved slowly as it slid down into him, savoring the sensation.

“You’re an angel,” Yunho praised, guiding San off him and bringing his pink, swollen lips to his own for a kiss. He licked away a little of the saliva that glistened on the lower lip of the man still kneeling between his legs. He could still taste a little of himself there as well, an enchanting addition to the sweetness of the other man’s hot lips.

“Can you touch me?” San asked, steadying himself by putting his hands on Yunho’s spread knees.

“Come sit with me,” Yunho coaxed. San nodded, wiping the dampness off his chin and he pulled himself up. He started to move to take a seat beside Yunho on the bed, but, catching him by the wrist, the other man guided him to sit between his spread legs. Yunho’s hands went to San’s chest, pressing him back against him. San relaxed in his arms enjoying just the moment of being held in the other man’s long and lean arms.

“Do you mind if I undress you?” Yunho asked, running his hand down over San’s taught stomach. San nodded, using his own hand to press Yunho’s more firmly against his own body. Yunho chuckled, pressing a kiss to the other man’s temple before he freed his hands to start working on removing the slightly rumpled looking suit. His fingers were quick and efficient with the buttons at the front of his shirt, flicking them open with barely any effort. When the shirt was completely open, Yunho slid it and the jacket off San’s muscular shoulders, bearing his smooth and muscular chest to the room. Yunho hooked them both to the nob of the headboard, letting them hang so they wouldn’t get any more wrinkled than they already were. When that was done, he brought his hands back to San’s smooth body, letting his palms run over the line of his ribs and down to his hips, before making their way forward to the fastening at the front of his pants. Yunho couldn’t stop himself from running a teasing hand over the front of his trousers to feel the tempting length just barely hidden there.

“Lift for me,” Yunho instructed when he had undone San’s pants and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of both his pants and underwear. San eagerly lifted his hips, pushing his weight onto his hands and feet to allow Yunho to slide the fabric down and let his erection spring forth. When he put his weight back down, Yunho pulled him back into the V of his thighs and against his half bared chest as San kicked off the last of his clothes.

“Can… can you take off your shirt?” San asked without turning around, having felt the abrasion of the round buttons against his shoulder blade.

“Of course,” Yunho pressed a kiss to San’s bare shoulder, then leaned back enough to finish opening the last of the buttons before taking his shirt off and tossing it onto one corner of the foot of the bed. With both of them fully naked, Yunho scooted back until he could feel the wall against his back, scooping San into the cradle of his body so that he could resume his exploration of his form.

“Please touch me,” San breathed, leaning his head back against Yunho’s broad shoulder. “It feels like I’ve been waiting so long.” San’s restless hands moved up and down the textured length of Yunho’s hard thighs.

“I will, sweet,” Yunho soothed. “I just want to get to know you.” San could feel the smile that pressed against the side of his face as Yunho spoke. He felt harder than he could ever remember feeling and his body begged for release. Yunho could sense his impatience. It was written into every squirm and the tense line of his body. “Shhhhh,” he soothed, rubbing his nose in the loose locks of San’s hair.

“Just hold me, there,” he pleaded, guiding Yunho’s hand to his length. “You don’t have to move yet, but just touch me.”

“Alright,” Yunho agreed, his hand loosely gripping San’s hot, hard erection. It was soft under his hand, like velvet or suede covered steel. San let out a tense sigh, closing his eyes and enjoying the way Yunho’s slightly cooler hand seemed to envelop him. Keeping his grip light, Yunho moved his hand up and down, letting that first hint of sensation tingle over San’s nerves, half teasing and half relief. His other hand held San to him on his chest, just the tip of one finger moving to abrade the hardened nipple it could reach. Goosebumps rose on San’s skin and he shivered under the combination of sensations. San’s fingers gripped Yunho’s thighs just above the knees with a careless strength that would have left fingermark bruises on anyone else. Luckily Yunho couldn’t bruise, not that easily at least, and he loved the feedback that was telling him he was touching him just right.

“Tilt your head a little,” Yunho coaxed. “I want to reach your neck.”

San gladly tilted his head to the side, his member twitching just at the memory of the sensation of whatever he had done to his neck before. Yunho brushed his lips over the pulse in San’s neck as he began to move his hand a little faster, his grip just a little tighter as he did so. San moaned and shifted impatiently under the touch. Everything felt so good and he wasn’t sure why. It hadn’t been that long since he had been satisfied and by more than just his own hand. And it had been good, she had been good. The faint memory of sucking a soft nipple on the soft mound of a breast fluttered through his mind, as transient and insubstantial as a leaf caught in the draft of a strong gust that dies as quickly as it rose.

The sensation of Yunho running the pad of his thumb over the slick slit of his tip brought him back to the present. San sighed, his toes curling at the sensation. Pleasure washed through him, stealing his breath and stopping his mind from focusing on anything outside of the circle of Yunho’s arms.

Yunho’s lips teased the soft skin just under San’s ear, taking in his scent as he waited for the moment to bite. He wanted to feed at the moment he came, extending that pleasure and sweetening the taste of his blood with the rush of adrenaline and delight. Slowly increasing the pace of his movements, he varied his attention between stroking the whole length and giving the tip special attention, careful to not go to the point of over stimulating it.

“I’m so close,” San brought a hand up to hold the back of Yunho’s head as his lips sucked harder at the skin of his neck. “Please, whatever you did before, I want it again.”

“Patience, sweet,” Yunho hummed against him. “Almost there. Almost.” In a moment the pleasure suddenly crested and San held his breath as that first second of pleasure shocked through him before Yunho bit down. The bite magnified the sensation, making it reverberate through him with the resonance of a pitchfork struck against a hard surface.

Yunho sucked and fed, pulling every ounce of pleasure he could from San as he did so. San seemed frozen under his touch, unable to do more than just feel the power and the delight as it danced along every nerve in his body. It only faded as his limbs grew heavy and black spots began to float in patches in his vision. 

Yunho closed the wounds and pulled away when he felt and heard that tell-tale stutter in the beat of San’s heart. He could continue. He could draw out that pleasure until the thudding stopped. It would be so easy and San was such a willing victim. He would never find it in himself in that moment to utter the word stop. It just felt too good. But Yunho did, he pulled back, holding San as he went limp, losing consciousness and falling into a blackness that was deep and quiet.

His heartbeat was slow but steady and Yunho was relatively certain that he would wake sometime tomorrow, perhaps sore and surprised to feel so hungover when he only had that one drink. Yunho gently laid him down in the bed, drawing the covers up over his beautiful naked body, making sure that he was in something that looked like a comfortable position. As he looked down, in his chest, his heart moved faintly in something that could almost be mistaken for beating. Almost.

Picking up his clothes, he carefully redressed, trying to look his best, despite a few wrinkles and creases that were too stubborn to be pulled or brushed away. He paused at a mirror, smoothing down his hair again, leaving it almost looking untouched by the events of the night. Casting a glance back at the man lying so prettily unconscious in the bed, Yunho couldn’t help but smile.

Going over to the desk, Yunho shuffled through a few drawers before he found a small pad of paper with a page he could rip out to scribble something.

I hope the morning finds you well, he wrote in a flowing hand that belied his age if someone paid enough attention. If you ever feel like a repeat performance, you know where to find me. He signed the bottom of the page with an ornate Y before picking up the page and folding it in half. Taking a moment, he neatly arranged San’s discarded clothes in the hopes it would make his morning just a little bit more pleasant. He pocketed the key taking it from San’s pocket where he had slipped it after letting them in. Taking the note, he slipped it into one of San’s shoes, sure that it would be secure there and not lost in the shuffle of papers that might belong on one of the counters in his home.

With one last caress of the other man’s cheek, Yunho stood up and quietly made his way to the front door. Slipping out into the hall, he clicked the door shut behind him, turning the key in the lock before dropping it back inside though the mail slot. With a fresh vigor and a skip in his step, and with the faint smell of cedar and sage clinging to him, Yunho made his way out of the apartment building and onto the cool, damp streets of Paris in fall. It really had been the best night he’d had in ages. With any luck, someday soon, that sweet, fragile man would step back into Le Chat Noir and back into his life. Until then, he’d have to be satisfied with other passing fancies and the memory of a very lovely night.

Masterlist

[superpaperclip]

I Don’t Wanna Wait In Vain

My first Red White and Royal Blue fic!! Thank you to the discord who inspired me and encouraged me! Read on AO3 here.

When Alex arrived home a few hours earlier than scheduled, the last thing he expected to see was his roommate making out with some boy on their couch. Henry’s hands were tangled in his dark hair, one leg thrown over his hips. As soon as Henry caught sight of Alex in the doorway, he sprang back from the guy, pushing him away. 

“Alex! I- I didn’t expect you home so soon! I- um- this is, uh, Aiden. Aiden, this is my roommate Alex.” Henry’s eyes darted between Alex and Aiden as Alex felt his face heat up. 

“I’m just gonna… go to my room.” muttered Alex, and hurried past the couch. Shutting the door a little too hard, he sank to the ground and let his head fall back with a thump. Why was his heart racing? Why was there a lump in his throat and a knot in his stomach? He knew Henry was gay, and he didn’t have a problem with it. At least, he didn’t think he did. He certainly didn’t have a problem with Liam or his boyfriend Spencer. He didn’t have a problem with the LGBT people in his classes. So why did he have a problem with Henry?

He heard voices rising in volume on the other side of the door, one that he recognized as Henry’s, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Eventually, he heard the front door slam and Henry groan. There was a knock on Alex’s door. 

“Hey, uhm, Aiden is gone if you wanna… y’know… come out.” Alex nodded, before realizing Henry couldn’t see him. Why did he feel like his chest was lighter and a weight was lifted off his shoulders? He had too many questions and not enough answers, so he decided to do what he always did when he needed a distraction- throw himself into his work. Opening his laptop and spreading out his books and papers, he started on an essay. 

He was startled out of his concentration by another knock on his door and Henry informing him that it was dinnertime. A quick glance at the clock showed that it was almost 6:30. Alex finished the paragraph he was typing and closed his laptop. Leaving his room, he joined Henry on their couch, tucking one foot under his other leg. The TV was quietly playing in the background, some cooking show that Alex didn’t care for. His mind was cloudy and unfocused, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Henry kissing some guy on their couch. 

“So. Who was that?” Alex asks. 

“Aiden? He’s… no one.”

“No one? Is that why you were sucking face with him on our couch?” Alex’s voice had a bit more vitriol than he intended. Still, he didn’t back down, even when he saw Henry cringe. 

“Erm… yes. He was… no one. Really, Alex, just let it go.” For some reason, that just made Alex angrier. 

“Let it go? I’d rather not come home and see that. Can you at least do it in your room?”

“That's what we were planning to do. Sorry for not being able to predict that you would get home early!” That just clouded Alex’s thoughts more. In the back of his mind, he registered sharp points of pain in his shin. Looking down, he saw he had been digging his nails into his leg, most likely leaving crescent-shaped marks. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes until the doorbell rang, and Alex went to get the pizza. When he returned, Henry had put on A New Hope. Alex forced himself to focus on the movie and not the thick tension between them as they ate their dinner. They were both uncharacteristically quiet, offering no comments or quips. 

***

The silence and tension continued for a week, Henry bringing home various men and Alex trying in vain to ignore it. Eventually, Alex had enough. He knew he couldn’t fix this himself. He needed help. After laying in his bed for hours and thinking of how badly he fucked things up with Henry, he rolled over and grabbed his phone, texting Nora before he could talk himself out of it. 

>Skype lunch this weekend? I need to talk to you.

>Only if you’re buying.

Can June come?

>Sure.

***

That Sunday, Alex eats lunch in his room instead of on the couch like usual. After taking a bite of his burger, he plugs in his headphones and opens skype on his laptop, calling Nora. After two rings she picks up. Straight to the point, Nora asks what’s bothering him. Sighing, Alex explains his problem.

“So Henry and I have been roommates for years, right, and I’ve know he’s gay the whole time. But last week, I got home early and he was making out with some guy on the couch. And then I realized that he’s never actually told me about any of his crushes or boyfriends, so I told him he’s welcome to talk about that stuff with me, and he said he didn’t have a love life and that the guys he’s brought over don’t actually mean anything.  I don’t know what’s happening.” 

Nora and June laugh so hard Alex has to rip his headphones off. Faintly, he can make out the words ‘Alex’ and ‘idiot’, and then more laughter. It takes several minutes for both of them to calm down, during which Alex huffs at them to stop multiple times. It only makes them laugh harder. Eventually, Nora is the first to speak.

“Alright, let’s go back to the guy on the couch. What happened there? Like, walk us through what happened when you walked in.” Alex frowns, but explains the events from when he walked into the apartment that day. That just prompted another bout of laughter from June and Nora. After sharing a look with Nora, June was the first to talk.

“Alex, what you’re describing- the lump in your throat, your stomach churning, your heart racing- are jealousy. You’re fucking jealous!” Nora and June smirked at each other, then looked expectantly at Alex.

“What do I have to be jealous of? I don’t want to kiss Aiden. I don’t even know him.” At that, the women groaned in unison. 

“You’re jealous of Aiden, not Henry. Come on, you’ve wanted to kiss him practically since you saw him. And he wants to kiss you too.” Nora states matter-of-factly.

“Hold on. Back up. I don’t like Henry, and he doesn’t like me, at least not like that. We’re just friends. And I’m straight.” But Alex’s voice wavered, his mind already running through his and Henry’s relationship. The day they met and how Alex’s first thought was that his new roommate was very handsome, the light feeling in his chest when Henry laughs at a joke he told, and the fire in his gut when he saw Henry kissing Aiden. Then his mind wandered to his high school years- trying not to look at other guys in the locker room, thinking about large hands and wide shoulders when he was in the shower, and whatever went on between him and Liam. At the thought of Liam, Alex quickly ended the call and shut his laptop. He had a lot to think about.

***

Alex didn't pay attention to anything that afternoon, nor did he get any sleep that night. He had been too wired to fall asleep, wandering through his memories and picking out the moments that, in retrospect, he should’ve recognized as not being very straight. By the time the thin rays of dawn were filtering through his curtains, he had come up with a list.

One. He’s not as straight as he thought he was.

Two. He’s attracted to Henry, and probably has been since they moved in together.

Three. He really wants to kiss Henry.

Four. He can’t stand seeing Henry kiss other people. 

Five. According to Nora, Henry also likes him. 

Now he just has to figure out what to do with that information. He went through his day on autopilot, not retaining any information from his classes. His professors droned on about laws and their applications, but Alex’s mind was on Henry. Henry’s soft blond hair, Henry’s bright blue eyes, the way Henry gets excited when he talks about literature or LGBT history. His strong hands, his laugh, the way he comes out of his shell when they’re together. 

When he pushed the door of the apartment open that afternoon, Henry was once again on their couch, this time curled up with a book against the armrest. Something by Jane Austen, Alex guesses. Steeling his nerves, he sits on the other side of the couch and clears his throat. Wordlessly, Henry looks up from his book and raises an eyebrow. 

“I’m sorry. I’ve been an asshole lately.” Alex apologizes, hoping he looks as guilty as he feels. Thankfully, Henry closes the book and puts it down. 

“Frankly, yeah, you have.” 

“Yeah, um, I was because I was… jealous.” Multiple emotions flashed across Henry’s face, including something Alex couldn’t identify, before he schooled his features again. 

“What do you have to be jealous of? You could get girls if you wanted. You tell me about all the girls who hit on you. I’m sure any one of them would be happy to sleep with you.”

“No, I’m…” Alex sighed, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to. “I'm not jealous of you for how much you, ahem, get. I’m jealous… of Aiden. And… everyone else you bring home.” He could see Henry trying to wrap his mind around Alex’s confession. 

“I, um, talked to Nora and June about me being an asshole, and they helped me realize that it was… jealousy. I thought about it, and I’m not as straight as I thought.” Henry’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“So… what are you trying to tell me?” Alex groaned and put his head in his hands. This was harder than he thought it would be. Then again, he had never confessed his love to his roommate after realizing he’s not straight. 

“I’m bisexual and I like you. As more than a friend.” Alex said in one breath. As soon as he said the last word, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Slowly, he looked up and saw Henry was staring at him, his eyes wide.

“You’re- I- What? Wait, really? I- I didn’t-”

“So, um, I get it if you’re not into me like that, but I just needed to get it off my chest.” Alex rubbed the back of his neck, self conscious of Henry’s eyes on him.

“Are you really that thick? I’ve been flirting with you since we met. I just had no hope because, y’know, you’re straight. Or at least, I thought you were.” A blush spread across Henry’s face, reaching from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. 

“So, what was Aiden?”

“A pathetic attempt to get over you. Really, he was no one.” Alex let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. They sat in silence, Henry shifting in his seat and Alex running his finger along the key around his neck. Alex was the first to speak.

“So what are we now? I mean, I’d like to, y’know, be with you…”

“I want that too!” Henry quickly interjected. Alex’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of dating Henry, of kissing him, of doing other things with him.

“So, I guess we can just, like, see where this goes?”

“Yeah, I think that would be best.” As soon as the words left Henry’s mouth, Alex realized how close they were. They had slowly been moving towards each other, and now they were almost touching. If he just leaned forward a bit, Alex realized with a start, he could press their lips together. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked breathlessly. Henry nodded. Their lips met, and it was perfect.

[katsukis-sad-angel]

"get to know me uncomfortably well" 1-100 minus whatever questions you dont want to answer :D

ahem (original post)

1. What is your middle name? Therese Hildegard (yes i have two)

2. How old are you? 19

3. When is your birthday? May 22

4. What is your zodiac sign? The most introverted Gemini you can find

5. What is your favorite color? Purple

6. What’s your lucky number? 18

7. Do you have any pets? 2 beautiful rabbits named Asphodel and Genisys

8. Where are you from? NE Ohio

9. How tall are you? just about 5′5″

10. What shoe size are you? *sniffle* size 10, but my doc martins are size 11

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? 4

12. What was your last dream about? all i remember is the guy i like holding out his arms to me for a hug, but before i could jump into his arms i woke up :(

13. What talents do you have? I’m a percussionist so I hit things to make pretty sounds and i guess i’m pretty good at writing 

14. Are you psychic in any way? no, why?

15. Favorite song? Fiending by Broken Transmitter and Just One Yesterday by Fall Out Boy at the moment

16. Favorite movie? ummmm gotta be big hero 6

17. Who would be your ideal partner? tall, dark, and handsome, a little muscular, not too much tho, at least a little taller than me who gives good hugs

18. Do you want children? yes

19. Do you want a church wedding? yes

20. Are you religious? yes

21. Have you ever been to the hospital? i had a seizure when i was 4. haven’t been there since

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? i mean i’ve broken laws but i’ve never been caught

23. Have you ever met any celebrities? CLIFFORD CHAPIN!!!!! MY LORD AND SAVIOR!!!

24. Baths or showers? both, first a bath to relax and then shower to actually get clean

25. What color socks are you wearing? none

26. Have you ever been famous? would you call 800+ followers famous?

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?  absolutely not

28. What type of music do you like? rock, the occasional j-pop, songs with a lot of bass i guess

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? HAH no

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 2

31. What position do you usually sleep in? i fall asleep staring at the ceiling and wake up on my face

32. How big is your house? large enough for 6 kids, 2 parents, 2 rabbits, and the ghosts of 2 cats and 2 dogs 

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? something dad makes or a parfait from school

34. Have you ever fired a gun? nope

35. Have you ever tried archery? yep

36. Favorite clean word? rats

37. Favorite swear word? piss baby

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? in all 19 years of my existence, i have never once pulled an all-nighter. my body will just shut off, it doesn’t matter how much caffeine i drink

39. Do you have any scars? me and my curling iron have a love-hate relationship if you will

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? lmao

41. Are you a good liar? it depends, but usually yes

42. Are you a good judge of character? no. i’m way too trusting and give everyone the benefit of the doubt even when SEVERAL people tell me so and so is a bad person and i usually end up getting hurt because of it aha

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? i can talk like gordon ramsay if requested

44. Do you have a strong accent? i live in ohio. no.

45. What is your favorite accent? gordon ramsay

46. What is your personality type? an introvert who will fight you if provoked

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? something stupidly overpriced from hot topic probably

48. Can you curl your tongue? yes

49. Are you an innie or an outie? innie

50. Left or right handed? right handed

51. Are you scared of spiders? no but if i see one i will smack it with a shoe

52. Favorite food? pork ribs

53. Favorite foreign food? chinese food

54. Are you a clean or messy person? clean

55. Most used phrase? “so... there’s this guy...”  

56. Most used word? “rats” as a derogatory term or otherwise

57. How long does it take for you to get ready? 30 minutes max

58. Do you have much of an ego? i try not to

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? bite. i dont want something in my mouth for that long

60. Do you talk to yourself? all the time

61. Do you sing to yourself? yes

62. Are you a good singer? i mean, i’m not necessarily bad

63. Biggest Fear? people that are upset with me and i don’t know why, hospitals, blood and other bodily fluids, dead things

64. Are you a gossip? yes

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? i watch anime, fool

66. Do you like long or short hair? on my men, as long as it’s not super long and nasty we’re good... women? i don’t care

67. Can you name all 50 states of America? yes. i have every animaniacs song memorized so, not to flex, but i can name all 50 states AND their capitals in SONG form

68. Favorite school subject? history

69. Extrovert or Introvert? introvert

70. Have you ever been scuba diving? no but it sounds fun

71. What makes you nervous? not knowing where i am, deadlines, a teacher saying “i’m letting you form your own groups for a project this time and no you can’t work by yourself” 

72. Are you scared of the dark?  yes

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? as nicely as possible

74. Are you ticklish? yes

75. Have you ever started a rumor? nothing major but yes

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? no

77. Have you ever drank underage? my dad let me suck on his empty beer bottle when i was a baby and my grandpa gave me a little champagne on new years when i was 14 so maybe

78. Have you ever done drugs? no

79. Who was your first real crush? his name was mateo and he was perfect in every possible way...

80. How many piercings do you have? 4

81. Can you roll your Rs? yes

82. How fast can you type? pretty dang fast

83. How fast can you run? i can outrun all 3 of my brothers if that’s what you’re asking

84. What color is your hair? chestnut brown

85. What color are your eyes? dark brown

86. What are you allergic to? THOTS jk i’m not allergic to anything

87. Do you keep a journal? yes

88. What do your parents do? my mom is an independent web designer and my dad sells cars for ford

89. Do you like your age? i don’t have an issue with it

90. What makes you angry? stupid people, particularly stupid females, people in general, cuphead

91. Do you like your own name? no. ‘cass’ is just an alias... i wish it wasn’t

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? girls: Cassandra, Adrianne    boys: Mateo, Levi, Atilio

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? i don’t have a preference

94. What are your strengths? listening, organization, colorful insult creation, art maybe

95. What are your weaknesses? food

96. How did you get your name? annabella was an option but it was also the name of my dad’s bosses dog, sophia was an option too but mom didn’t like it over my actual name sooo 

97. Were your ancestors royalty? nah we were italian farmers that fucked around in syria for awhile

98. What nationalities are you? mostly italian but lets see i’m also irish, syrian, czechoslovakian, and a sprinkle of french

99. Color of your bedspread? cheetah print

100. Color of your room? gray

[eldridgecandell]

👁‍🗨

( Continued from here ) 

Cheryl let out a sigh as she leaned against the wall of the Pig, her eyes wandering the disorganized kitchen and the door that lead back tot he common room. She was glad she wasn’t downstairs, judging by the faces of her companions they felt the same.  Captain Dewitt was grim as ever as she lit one of her cigars, the smoke clouding about her face as she kept her distance from the young inquisitor.  The other man who closed the door to the basement, stepped up and let out a sigh to match her own.

“I’m glad I’m not down there.” The man spoke softly as he ran a hand through his shock of hair.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Cheryl let a slight smile slip, letting it grow a bit stronger as the man returned it.

“Dard,” he extended hand to her which she accepted readily with a firm grip to match his own.

“Cheryl.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dard said as he pulled a stool out and took a seat with a groan that did not match the youthful features of his face.  Cheryl wasn’t made of stone and recognized a handsome man, glad for it after the dour men of her island home.  This was the first time she’d left Kul Tiras completely, granted she had hoped it wouldn’t be for a such a dark engagement as a funeral.  

“So you’re with the Order as well?”  Dard asked as he rested his elbows on his knees to look over Cheryl.  A level of surprising shyness crept into the young woman as she coughed to adjust in her leathers and mail, she wished she had something alittle less combattive to wear in friendly company but such was their life.  The giant stone axe she kept a hand on probably didn’t ellivate the feeligs either.

“Ahem yes, I’m an Inquisitor with the Order.  Eld is my partner.”  The word felt odd to her after so much time spent with the old man and the other members of their makeshift squad.  But now her oaths had been given and colors provided, she was an inquisitor. They were equals.  “And what about you?  You work for the guard?”

“He’s a private investigator, he came through the Stand a few months ago,” Dewitt piped up from her spot near the cookfire, the cigar in her hand smoking gently into the air as she looked from her inquisitor to the man.  The look in her eyes gave a stern but far too knowledgeable look.  “As I recall your little girl was assailed by some of the Coven in the meal hall.”

“Oh, that was you?” Cheryl looked surprised and concerned as she stood up straighter from the wall.

Dard’s calm look dropped a bit as he frowned at Dewitt for the mention of a less that savory time and looked about to say something smart in retort before a cacophony of screams erupted form the common room.  All three were already in motion as they bounded for the stairs, a flash of sword, heft of axe, and cock of hammer.  These sounds were familiar to Cheryl, and she was glad to see the same of Dard as they burst out from behind the bar to find what no one could scarcely believe.

“Damn Scourge,” Dard growled as he aimed his pistol and opened fire.  The inquisitors didn’t hesitate as they rushed to aid the bar patrons, Tre Ur Steini eldritch light blazing as Duun’s eyes blazed with the same light as they became one.

@dardillien-ward

Mentions: Cheryl Duun, Rachel Dewitt (NPCs attached to @eldridgecandell )

[lu-undy]

Hi!❤️. Spy is a romantic. He always makes nice things for Sniper, and the dates he plans are amazing. Sniper wants to be romantic too, so, this time, he wants to surprise Spy with his own planned date. He'll take him camping and they'll watch the starry together. Convincing Spy to go camping was a little hard, but totally worth it, Spy completely loved that date.

Alright, a date in the forest it is! I hope you’ll like it!

“Non, Sniper, I cannot accept.”

“How can you not like it if you’ve never tried it?”

Spy got up from the shade of the van and walked further away, his more-than-friend on his heels.

“Let us be serious, Sniper. Do you see me in the middle of a forest with squeaky plastic green boots?”

The Australian sighed and let his shoulders sink. He put a hand on Spy’s back who had just lit a cigarette.

“Spook, please… You always take me to wonderful places I’ve never been before, luxurious hotels and restaurants, and there was the tailor too, that fancy hairdresser… I want to try and open yer horizons too. I-I’m sorry I’m not a fancy city man like you but-but I’m sure I can make it worth your time.”

Sniper saw the cloud of smoke float in the air like the steam of an old train. Thoughts were racing in Spy’s head.

“Please, Spy. It’s not all about dirt and wilderness. There are beautiful things outside of a city’s walls.”

The Frenchman turned to face the reason his heart was beating for and Sniper put his gloved hand on his cheek.

“Like you, right now, you’re in the middle of the desert and uh… Y-you… You’re just beautiful.” 

Spy raised his eyes to Sniper. His lagoon blue eyes shone so gently that he didn’t find it in his cold stone heart to refuse.

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“Oui. Let us go camping tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much!” The Australian squeezed the slim Frenchman between his arms.

“S-Sniper!”

“Ah, yeah, sorry, the suit, alroight, I’m sorry.” Sniper took a step back and wrapped his arms around his own self, lowering his head. He knew the Frenchman didn’t like anyone to touch his absurdly expensive attire.

“Sniper, look at me.”

The Australian shyly raised his eyes.

“I don’t like when other people touch my suit…” Spy added a smug smile, for good measure.

They had spent the night in Sniper’s campervan and when the sun rose up, the Frenchman found himself entangled in his lover’s limbs. His first reflex was to free himself certainly out of professional habit but then he realised that he liked that embrace more than he could admit. The warmth of his lover, the comfort of his soft body, the touch of his rough skin against Spy’s…

“Mornin’, Spook…”

“Oh, you woke up?”

“Felt you movin’ on me.”

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to disturb your sleep. You may go back to your dreams if you will.” Spy took Sniper’s hand in his and kissed his knuckles. He couldn’t see it but the Australian’s eyes snapped wide under the gentle touch.

“Not a chance. I’m likin’ this way too much…” The embrace tightened.

“So, when are we going to the jungle, Tarzan?” 

“Oi, I’m no Tarzan and I’m takin’ you to a forest, not a jungle.”

“I don’t see the shadow of a difference.”

“Between me and Tarzan or between a jungle and the forest?”

“Oui.”

“You’re a bloody mystery and a half.”

“It is indeed my job title.”

About an hour later, the van was crossing the empty golden, flat desert, on the thin strip of grey asphalt.

“Are we there yet?”

“Spook, not yet.”

A few seconds passed and the van's engine was roaring.

“And now, Bushman, are we there yet?”

“Do you see anythin’ that looks like a bloody forest?”

“Non, I can only see the dull, boring orange desert.”

“Well then that means we’re not there yet, roight?”

“How long is this journey, Bushman? Are we going to make it before you get baby kangaroos?”

“Oi! A bit of patience, Spook!”

The Frenchman sighed and let his head fall back on the headrest.

“Also, I can’t get babies on my own, this isn’t how it works.”

“Is this an invitation?” Spy smirked.

“Shut up!” Sniper nudged him with his elbow.

The journey took an extra hour before they could see the end of the orange and the beginning of the green. The Australian lifted his foot off the gas pedal and eventually parked somewhere that the Frenchman would describe as “the middle of nowhere”.

“Roight, this is it.”

“Ah, oui, merci Sniper, for this delightful ride to the middle of nowhere, forest edition.”

“Oh get out and cheer up, I’ll show you some nice stuff!” Sniper answered and cut the engine off.

���After you, Mister guide…”

They got off the van. 

“Uhm, I am not really dressed for this, Sniper.”

“Come ‘round. I can lend you some clothes.”

“Non merci.”

[No thanks.]

“You’d rather walk around in yer suit and nice shoes, then?”

“I did not say that.”

“Then c’mere.”

They walked to the van’s back and Sniper jumped in. He rummaged through his belongings and found an old flannel shirt and a pair of jeans as well as some white trainers.

“Here, wear this.”

“I do hope that you are kidding me, mon beau.”

[my handsome one]

“Nah, I’m not. It should be yer size more or less and it’s fine to get them a bit dirty, although you’ll see that we’re not gonna go through any survival things. This is just to show you that you can find as many beautiful things in nature as you can in a city.”

The Frenchman winced.

“Alroight, I can uh… I mean if it helps, I can… Ahem…” Sniper put a hand on the nape of his neck. 

Spy jumped in the van and got close to his lover. 

“Tell me, what is it?”

Sniper glanced over his lover’s shoulder and seeing the door shut, he lowered his head and whispered.

“I… I can remove yer suit for you and dress you up… I-if that helps I mean…”

“Oh I don’t know if that would help.” Spy smirked and put his index finger under Sniper’s chin to push it up until their eyes met. “On one hand, if you do remove my clothes, I might get carried away. Should you proceed anyway, I would find it most enjoyable.”

“Is that a yes then?”

“Oui.”

“Alroight…”

A few minutes later, both men were out in the green. Spy kept his gloves and balaclava on. He took his lover’s hand in his.

“Show me then, please.”

“Alroight, see those trees here, well, you gotta understand somethin’ about the way they work…”

It wasn’t a visit, it was a trek, an excursion, a hike across the green. The Australian unveiled the secrets of the forest, the local wildlife as well as the typical flora around this parts.

“Oh and what is it about the mosquitoes! it’s getting worse!”

“Ah that must mean one thing, Spook, we’re getting closer to some water. Oh, look here, on the ground.”

“What are those fluffy, uhm, mille-pattes?”

“Mill-what?”

“What do you call those insects with a lot of legs?”

“Ah, caterpillars. These are called caterpillars.”

“Why are they so fluffy? Can we touch them?”

Spy got his finger closer to them.

“No, no, don’t! They’ll sting you!”

The Australian took his lover’s hand away.

“And why do they walk in a line like this? They look like they’re queueing for something…”

“Haha, my poor city man, they’re blind, that’s why they follow the only one that has any idea where it’s going!”

“Oh… I see…”

“What do you think about’em?”

“They look actually quite pretty. And very organised.”

“Glad to hear you say it, they’re amazin’ these creatures, see? Blind but they know what they’re doing! Let’s continue.”

“Fine, I’ll follow you.”

The guided tour lasted the entire day and to Spy, it seemed that he had received an entire encyclopaedia of information about the place. Everything had been accounting for, every straw of grass included. The sun was now gently setting in the distance.

“Hungry, luv’?”

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow.

“Did you just call me…?”

“Oh, uhm, sorry, that came out like that, I didn’t think about it, uh…”

“Don’t apologise, now I am quite hungry indeed…”

Spy winked at his lover and Sniper’s cheeks turned red instantly.

“R-roight, uhm, I-I’ll get the fire goin’ uh…”

“Sniper?”

“Yeah?”

“Let me light the fire, please.”

Sniper’s eyebrows jumped.

“You know how to do it?”

“May I try?”

“Alroight, go ahead. I’ll get to the van and arrange some stuff meanwhile.”

A few minutes later, the Australian exited his van again.

“Crikey, you did it! You lit a fire!”

Sniper jumped out of his van and leapt at his lover.

“Mon amour, non-oof!”

[My love]

The momentum of the Australian’s jump made them both tumble and fall on the grass. The Frenchman rolled his eyes.

“Oh now even my balaclava will be dirty…!”

“Yeah, but it’s protecting yer hair! Why are you always seeing the glass always half-empty?”

Spy smiled.

“I guess you are right.”

“Also, did you just call me-?”

“My love, oui, I did.”

“I… I love you.”

Sniper wrapped his arms around his lover and buried his head in his chest as he laid on top of him on the earthy ground of the forest.

“Sniper, y-you are crushing me…”

“Don’t care, I just love you.”

They enjoyed their sausages and marshmallows, sat on a tree log, Spy leaning his head on his lover’s shoulder. The sun had now fully set and the sole source of light on which they could rely was the dancing flames of the campfire that the Frenchman had made. 

“It’s cold now, mon amour.”

“It is. Climb up the van’s roof, I’ll be a minute.”

“The roof?”

“Yeah.”

“But it’s cold!”

“Trust me, Spook, please.”

“Fine. I have been so far so why not go all the way?"

A few minutes later, both men were on the van’s rooftop. Sniper had put the flames out and only the smoke floated in the air, evaporating through the darkness of the night. 

“Here, a duvet, we’ll be a bit warmer.”

The Australian sat next to his lover and threw the cover on their shoulders. Spy snuggled up against his taller man.

“Now look up, luv’. See those stars in the sky?”

“I see them in your eyes.”

Sniper looked down and saw the Frenchman’s eyes riveted on his, his wide black pupils reflecting the moonlight. 

“Oh, uh, they must look tiny on my eyes, uh, y-you better look at the sky to see them better, I think.”

“You are adorable.” Spy took Sniper’s arm in his and looked up. 

“See those stars shaped like a saucepan?”

“Oui.”

“That’s the Great Bear.”

“It doesn’t look like one, does it?” Spy tilted his head left and right, trying to see where on Earth anyone could see a bear up there.

“Nah, it’s true… And that one there, the upside down saucepan, that’s the Small Bear.”

“It doesn’t make any sense, Bushman. Who are these people who decided on that, their vision is terrible! Have they ever seen a bear in real life?!”

“Oi, don’t blame me, I have nothing to do with that, luv’! I’m just explaining it to ya.”

“I know, but still. They should have called it the saucepan and the upside down saucepan.”

“I agree with ya. Now there’s that one there, that’s the Dragon.”

“And unsurprisingly, it does not look like one.”

“Oh cause maybe you have seen a dragon in real life?”

“And what if I did.”

“Oh, shut up and c’mere…!”

They snuggled up closer to each other under their white fluffy blanket and  the dark one God had laid above their heads.

“So what about today? Did you like it?”

“Oui, I think I did. You know a lot of things about this… Nature business…”

“Well, yeah, I’ve lived most of my adult life outside and in me van, so I guess it makes sense.”

“I find this interesting.”

“Is that a way to say that you would like a second trip some time?”

“Maybe, Bushman. It all depends on one thing, you see.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“The way that you decide to spend this night with me.”

“Well, we’ve got the cover here and no one around for miles…”

The gaze they exchanged in the night sealed their decision and as the day had started with their limbs entangled, it ended the same way. 

[8makes1cheese]

Mr. Handsome Stranger

Pairing: Yeosang X Reader

Tags: cursing, shitty attempts at comedy, fluff

Words: 1.7k

A/N: YAY my first fic! Go easy on me HEHehehe... ahem. ANyways, I hope it’s decent. The Ateez boys deserve more love and Atinys need more content dammit. Even if it’s my shitty writing hahahaHA. I promise to (try) to get better with my writing. Like seriously I feel like this is so shitty, but I’m having some blocks on ideas and having trouble starting stories. Also If I didn’t decide to just post this, nothing was going to be posted. ALSO, gotta give credit where credit is due of course, I got the inspiration for this story here. Well, enjoy?

"Okay, deep breathes. In and out. Inhale...exhale." I was currently parked curbside waiting for the time to hit noon. I had a job interview at my local library and was in the process of trying to psych myself up and calm my nerves at the same time. I glanced at the clock on my dashboard and it read 11:02 A.M. They like it when you show up early right? It shows that your punctual and responsible and shit. I rolled my eyes at myself. Why the hell did I show up so early? 

I wanted this job so bad. Working at this library has always been a dream of mine. They also have never had an open position here for years. Sure, you could volunteer your time here, but it has always been the same women working here for more than a decade. One of the ladies is good friends with my mother and knew that I would jump at the chance to land a job at my favorite place in town. I sighed and looked at the clock again. 11:06. I whined to myself and turned the heater on in my car. If I wasn't going to woman up and get my ass out of this vehicle, I might as well get cozy since I seem to be too chicken shit to hang out in the building I've spent the majority of my life in. I know I could just go in and browse through the isles of books before my interview. All the librarians know me by name, I know all of theirs. Like my mother and Thalia, my mothers friend who works at the library, said when they told me about the job opening, I'm guaranteed to get it. But, I still have anxiety and it seems like one of my favorite things to do is worry and assume the worse. I wrapped my cardigan tighter around me and turned up my heater. It was definitely a cold one today. It wasn't raining just yet, but the sky was steely gray with storm clouds. It was pretty calming actually, my favorite weather was stormy weather and grabbing a hot chocolate from the neighboring cafe and snuggling up in the warm library was sounding so good right now. Yes, keep thinking that way, maybe it'll actually get you to get the hell out of this car. As I was convincing myself that a hot chocolate sounded perfect a car pulled up and parked behind me. I didn't pay much attention to it, at least not until the person who was driving the car got out of it. I herd the door slam shut and glanced at my side-view mirror. Well, shit. The man that had exited the car was probably one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen. His hair was light brown. Dark blonde? Light brown. Whatever, you know what I mean. He had on a silky looking dark brown button up tucked into black skinny jeans and a black suit jacket to complete the ensemble. A simple black string wrapped around his throat. Damn, he has no business looking that good. I chuckled to myself. Thirsty bitch. I watched as he pointed his key fob at his car to lock his door and started walking to my side of the car. Wonder where he- My eyes widened and my heart sped up for a second when he stopped at my car door. What is he...? He turned his body towards me and bent over slightly looking right into my car window. I started to freak out when I remembered. Wait, my windows are tinted... holy shit, he can't see me. I smirked, enjoying a better look at this handsome man. It seemed like he decided to stop and use my car window as a mirror to check himself out. I observed him as he straightened out his shirt and ran his fingers through is hair. Damn, he looks even better up close. He seemed to have a bit of a nervous air about him. Maybe an important meeting? Maybe a ...date? I was tempted to roll down the window and scare the pants off him. (Oh, Mister Handsome Stranger with no pants...okay (y/n) get your mind out of the gutter for once.) And so I did. The look he had was absolutely priceless when he noticed the window start to roll down. Shock and embarrassment were written all over his perfect face. I plastered on a giant grin as most of my face became visible. He opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fishy Adonis and before he could say anything, I somehow had the confidence to say, "Don't worry, you look really good. Honestly you are unnaturally beautiful for a man. Like, seriously, you're prettier than my sister; and trust me, she's so pretty that she got a acting gig for a commercial advertising medicine for genital warts.", but you know, I have absolutely no confidence in myself to get a job that I'm almost guaranteed to get. Mister Handsome Strangers face turned red and he started busting up laughing. Oh no, your laugh sounds as beautiful as you are. "Thank you, I think I should take that as a compliment?" He said through his laughter. Jesus Fucking Christ, your voice sounds even better. "Oh yeah, it's definitely a compliment." Once he caught his breath he cleared his throat he scratched the back of his neck. "I'm really sorry." he told me. "I had no idea someone was in the car- your car. I-I mean- I didn't know you were in..." he stuttered out. I chuckled as his cheeks became just a little pinker. "It's alright really. My windows are obviously tinted so nobody would be able to tell that I'm just sitting in my car being a creep." He slightly smiled at me. "Why are you just sitting in your car being a creep?" he asked. Is he really starting a conversation with me? I glanced at the clock on my dash. 11:14. "Oh. I'm sorry." He let out a nervous chuckle. "I'm probably keeping you from something, and also being a creep I guess just randomly asking why your in your own car. I should-" "NO! I-I mean, no, it's okay. I just have a job interview at the library at noon and I was just making sure I wasn't going to be late for it." I let out a small breathy laugh and rubbed my hands on the steering wheel. His shoulders looked like they lost most of their tension and he sent a small smile my way. "Well your awfully early. Don't want to make them think your too eager now do you?" I snorted. "Well I haven't even entered the building yet. I have to leave the car for them to think that now don't I?" He grinned at me. "I guess that's true." Your smile is giving me heart palpitations. I took a deep breath as discreetly as I could. Bad Idea. Holy shit, he smells like heaven. "SO STRANGER-" Dear Gods, could you have been any louder!? "Ahem- so, you look dressed for some sort of occasion." His eyes widened and he had the look like he just remembered something. "O-oh, right, I'm-" He coughed into his balled up fist. "I-uh I have a... blind date at noon." I raised my eyebrow at him then grinned. "Well your awfully early. Don't want to make them think your too eager now do you?" I could tell he tried to suppress a grin and he rolled his eyes. "Ah, but I haven't even entered the building. I have to be in the cafe for anyone to think that now don't I?" I laughed and he laughed along, when we both calmed down he told me that him and his blind date were actually supposed to meet at 11:00 but that she was running late and texted him before he left and that she'll be at the cafe a little before noon.  He took his phone out of his pocket, glanced at it, and sighed. He looked almost.. disappointed. "I should probably head in, just in case she gets here a little early." I nodded a little too enthusiastically. Don't make your disappointment obvious. You have literally known this man for like 20 minutes. "Well, I hope you have a fantastic time on your date, who knows, maybe she'll be the one." I winked at him and immediately regretted it. By the Gods, why are you so lame. That was so damn cringey. My cringey-ness seemed to go over his head as he softly smiled at me and said, "And I hope you get this job. You're going to do great in the interview. Make sure to tell them about your sister that was in that genital warts commercial, you'll get the job for sure with that." This boy is making my cheeks hurt with all the smiling he's making me do. "I'll be sure to lead with that. It was nice to meet you..." He held his hand just outside my car window. "Yeosang." I took his hand in mine and softly shook it. I want to hold your hand forever. "Yeosang..I'm (y/n)." "(y/n)...it was a pleasure to meet you too." he said softly. My name sounds incredible coming from you, please say it again. He smiled at me and backed away, walking around my car to get to the sidewalk and making his way into the cafe that was neighbors with the library. I watched Yeosang enter the cafe and I took a deep breath. It wasn't often that I met someone that was literally perfect. I rested my head against the seats head rest (I mean that is what it is for right?) and closed my eyes for a moment. I couldn't believe I struck up a conversation (If you could even call it that.) with a random stranger. I don't do that. Why did I do that? I opened my eyes and looked at the clock. 11:34. If I have the confidence to do that, then dammit, I have the confidence to kill this interview. An interview that I'M GUARANTEED to kill in the first place, but still. I shut my car off and grabbed my phone and wallet from my center console. I exited the car and smiled at my future place of work. Alright, lets do this shit.

A/N pt2: spEAKING OF PT.2, I wanna do a pt. 2 to this? I’m still unsure of this story but I immediately had a idea of how to continue this as I was spell checking through it? So yeah. Hope you liked it <3 Anyone reading this, feel free to shoot me a request! I could always use new ideas and inspiration to keep me going. Have a good day/night~

[syntaxeme]

I Could’ve Danced All Night [RadioDust]

[Read on AO3]  CW: Blood, knifeplay Summary: Alastor goes to a strip club looking for a victim and ends up finding something very different. It turns out Al and Angel Dust are fucked up in similar (or complementary) ways, and Alastor doesn't know how to handle 'clicking' with someone like this. (RadioDust Week day 1: dancing)

— — –

It began with a dance.

The music wasn’t of the sort Alastor typically enjoyed. Too much bass. No feeling in the composition. Mindless, almost, there for one purpose and one purpose alone—though he supposed he shouldn’t expect much more from a strip club. Besides, it served its purpose well enough; the dancers on stage certainly used the rhythm to their advantage.

Alastor sat on the far left side of the room, simply waiting and observing, keeping an eye out for a potential target. There was a girl strutting and preening on the stage nearest him, but she was focusing her attention on the other men in the area, likely unnerved by his smile. That was fine. She was too meek to be a satisfying kill.

It didn’t much matter to him exactly what type of demon he wound up leaving with: a patron, a bartender, maybe even one of the limber performers. Every person’s death was unique, so it wouldn’t do to count anyone out based on conditions like that. All he really wanted was an individual, someone singular, someone who stood out. And then he planned to spend the entire night exploring exactly how that individual responded to fear, to pain, to panic. The thought had him almost giddy with excitement.

“All right, you filthy fuckin’ sinners,” a gravel-voiced demon announced from somewhere unseen, “how many of you ever seen an angel up close?” A lascivious cheer raised in many of the patrons, but Alastor was puzzled by the phrasing. Surely they couldn’t mean an actual angel. Was it even possible for one of them to survive in Hell? Now that would be an interesting target. “Give it up for the hottest piece of ass in Hell, Angel Duuust!”

The music kicked up louder still as, on the stage in the very center of the room, yet another scantily-clad demon descended into view, spiraling down one of those poles to stop just inches from the floor in a dramatic pose that sent the audience into a frenzy yet again. Not a real angel, clearly, but an interesting figure nevertheless.

He—at least Alastor assumed the demon was a man based on his body language and general lack of curves—was a tall, spindly creature with two sets of arms and legs for miles. A gold tooth glinted in his sharp smile as he danced, and it was obvious from his playful demeanor that he was perfectly at home in this position. And the way he moved… Alastor had trouble taking in every aspect of the performance at once, his eyes lingering on one hand running through Angel Dust’s hair while the others slid slowly down his slender legs. Then all four hands grasped the pole again to fling the dancer’s lithe body around it in another quick spiral.

Oh yes, that was very promising. The entire performance was meant to arouse desire in the viewer, and while it wasn’t of a sexual sort, Alastor’s interest was piqued nevertheless. From the sound of things, this Angel Dust was a popular performer, meaning it would be noticed if/when he disappeared. But that had never stopped Alastor from pursuing what he wanted in the past.

When the song finished (in a manner of speaking, as the music here seemed to be unending), Angel Dust strolled around the perimeter of the stage collecting tips from his audience, pausing here or there to reward individual patrons with a come-hither smile or a stroke of their cheek. So that was the way to get his attention. Fair enough.

As he sauntered across the catwalk that led from the center stage to the one along the far wall, Alastor produced his wallet and tossed a handful of bills at the feet of the dancer in front of him, not making any particular effort to connect with her. Unfortunately, this little stunt had an unexpected side effect; like sharks smelling blood, the dancers saw him so blithely spending money and swarmed him immediately.

“How are you over here all alone, handsome?”

“Is that mean ol’ Stella ignoring you?”

“If you wanted company, you could’ve just asked.”

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, another on his arm, a third even so bold as to stroke up his knee, and he struggled not to show how uncomfortable he was with suddenly being crowded and touched without his consent.

“Ahem. You girls are lookin’ pretty thirsty,” a new voice said, and Alastor looked up to find none other than Angel Dust gazing down at them from the stage. The previous girl was now gathering up her tips to move elsewhere. “Why don’tcha go get a drink? My treat.”

Although the other dancers seemed put off by his interruption, they didn’t argue, one by one taking their hands from Alastor’s body and stalking off toward the bar. “Sorry about that,” Angel Dust added, his eyes sweeping curiously up and down the Radio Demon as he gracefully sank to his knees. “Some gals don’t know how to read between the lines, y’know?”

“And you do?” Alastor didn’t even try to pretend he was looking over every inch of the demon in front of him—but then, that was probably what he wanted.

“Sure. Like I can tell by lookin’ at ya that you wouldn’t be satisfied with just any girl. I get the feelin’ your tastes are a little more…” He licked his fingertips and ran them lightly down the center of his chest with a knowing smirk, posing to display his lengthy figure. “Exotic.”

Oh, you have no idea.

“And what gives you that impression?”

“Well, you were watchin’ me awful close in my first dance,” Angel Dust pointed out, lifting two of his hands in a shrug while the other two moved along the shape of his body. Seeing the mild surprise on Alastor’s face at having been caught staring, he laughed. “Eyes like yours are kinda hard to miss in a dark room. And I’ve gotten pretty good at noticin’ when someone wants me. So what is it you want, baby?” While he awaited an answer, he rested his hands on the stage and leaned forward, showcasing the unusual curves of his chest.

“Now that would be telling,” Alastor teased, fishing another twenty out of his wallet.

“All right, play hard to get if ya want.” The dancer’s two-toned eyes were fixed on the money in his hands. “How about your name? Will ya tell me that?”

“Alastor.” He offered the bill folded between two fingers, but when Angel Dust reached for it, he pulled away. “Say it for me, would you?”

Though he looked surprised by the request, he still obliged, dropping his voice slightly and purring in return, “Alastor.” His voice was nice enough. Something about the sound, in fact, was enough to send a surprising chill through the Radio Demon’s body.

“Once more?” he prompted, his own volume lowering a bit.

Angel Dust leaned closer still, enough that he was on his hands and knees and leaning off the edge of the stage, and moaned breathlessly, “Alastor.” Suppressing another chill, Alastor surrendered the money without further argument, and a pleased smirk curled the dancer’s lips as he took it. “I’m Angel. And hey, if ya like hearin’ it that much, maybe stick around after my shift’s over and we can talk in private.”

“Is that so?” He’s making this entirely too easy. “You may want to be more careful about making offers like that, cher. You’re certain to get more than you bargain for someday.”

“Mm, you promise?” Angel asked mischievously, his eagerness not fading in the slightest as he got to his feet again. “Hey, I’m a big boy; I can take care of myself. I’d be more worried about whether you can keep up with me.”

Well, he’d never been able to resist a challenge. “I suppose we’ll have to find out, then.”

“I suppose we will.” At the sound of some drunken demon from another table obnoxiously demanding Angel’s attention, his smile soured into a pout, and Alastor’s eyes flashed with irritation. Clearly, Angel had done an admirable job of catching his attention; he now couldn’t imagine leaving with anyone else. “If you’re interested, meet me out back at one fifteen.” With a wink in Alastor’s direction, he strolled delicately down the stage to meet the lummox who had called for him, planting his hands on his hips and playfully chastising the other demon for his impatience.

The following two hours were torture, and Alastor enjoyed every anticipatory moment. He remained where he was, absently tipping whichever dancer happened to be in front of him at the moment, but his eyes stayed on Angel as he worked the room. Not once but twice more, Angel was called to center stage for a feature dance of his own, and both times, he stole a glance or two in Alastor’s direction to be sure he was still watching. Which he was. Intently.

The club closed at 1 a.m., and Alastor did as instructed, going around the back of the building to find out exactly what ‘talk in private’ translated to. Unfortunately, it seemed that some other demons had a similar idea, as he found two of them waiting under the light of a yellow halogen bulb when he arrived. Noticing them watching him warily, he gave them a winning smile and a polite nod. “Gentlemen.”

One of them seemed fully ready to ignore him, but the other narrowed his eyes. “You were the one takin’ up all Angel’s time earlier,” he growled. Alastor only then recognized him as the same brute who had stolen Angel’s attention before. Quite a forgettable face, apparently.

“We spoke, yes. Is that a problem?”

“Only if you think you’re takin’ him home.” The other demon took a step closer, drawing his shoulders back, trying to come off as imposing. Still drunk, clearly. “I been savin’ up for weeks to get him to myself, and no bowtie-wearin’ radio talk show host is gonna steal him out from under me.” He grasped a handful of Alastor’s coat, and the Radio Demon’s smile broadened into something menacing.

“My friend, I’m going to allow you five full seconds in which to remove your hands from my person and yourself from my sight before you lose something much more valuable than a single night of good company.”

“Oh yeah? What the fuck are you gonna do to make me?”

“Four,” Alastor answered simply. Really, the restraint he showed by offering this grace period was impressive in itself. “Three.”

“Uh, Tino, maybe you should listen to him, man,” the remaining demon said as he noticed the shadows lengthening across the ground, darkness edging into the halo of light around the club’s back door.

“Two.”

“Fuck this.” Tino had apparently gotten fed up with the countdown, but as he drew back a fist and Alastor reached ‘one,’ the light snapped out, just long enough for the shadows to overtake both Tino and his companion. Alastor didn’t bother taking extra time to savor their deaths. They were meaningless, nothing but an obstacle to what was sure to be the most enjoyable night he’d had in years. He crushed them and dropped their bodies into the dumpster against the wall without so much as a hair out of place.

When the light flickered back to life, he had managed to contain himself into a veneer of nonchalance. Consider this an appetizer, he told himself. And indeed he was only that much hungrier for something with more substance.

It was actually closer to 1:30 when Angel finally exited the club, but when he saw Alastor there, he smiled brightly. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, now dressed in a scant mini dress and half-jacket, still showing off his shape nicely. “So let’s talk prices before we go any further.” Alastor listened with vague interest as he explained how much his ‘company’ would cost per hour, which acts would cost extra, etc., and he agreed to all of it. He could afford the cost if necessary, but that wasn’t how he planned for the night to end.

He then led the way to the hotel room he had booked for exactly this purpose, Angel clinging to his arm and making all sorts of suggestive comments, none of which really did much for him. Once they were inside and Alastor locked the door behind them, Angel shed his jacket and set it aside along with his purse. “So where d’ya want me, handsome? Right here against the wall? Bent over the table? Ooh, maybe out on the balcony where anyone could see?” It was difficult to tell how much of this was just teasing and how much was serious.

“Why don’t we start here?” Alastor gestured to the bed, and although Angel pouted over the vanilla selection, he sat down nevertheless. It seemed he was always aware of how to hold his body and how it looked, always keen on keeping his angles as attractive as possible. “Are there any ground rules you’d like to set? Boundaries?”

Angel laughed at that like it was a ridiculous question. “Nah, I’m down for pretty much whatever. Whatever you’re into, baby.”

“Really? No restrictions at all?” Alastor asked, raising an eyebrow at him. This was already going much smoother than usual; how could Angel so easily trust a man he’d only just met?

“Well, like what? Whaddaya have in mind?”

“Like pain,” Alastor answered readily enough. Sliding his fingers through Angel’s hair, he grasped a handful of it and tilted his head back, drawing a gasp from his lips. “Biting. Clawing. Cutting.”

“That’s…fine.” He leaned his head easily into Alastor’s touch, apparently willing, even eager, to be abused without protest. Another inexplicable shiver—of what? interest? excitement?—coursed through the Radio Demon’s body. Still, he managed to keep his voice even.

“What about being bound?”

“Yes, please,” Angel purred. “I told you, whatever you wanna do is okay. Just don’t keep me waitin’ all night.” He leaned closer, lifting his head, eyes locked on Alastor’s lips, and it wasn’t difficult to imagine what he wanted. So Alastor gave it to him. After all, how often was his prey so agreeable? Why not explore the more unusual aspects of the situation? Their lips met, and already his tongue was forcing its way into Angel’s mouth, tasting lemon and liquor from whatever cocktails he’d had earlier. Gradually, his blunt ferocity faded into something slower and easier, and his dancer-turned-escort treated him to soft whimpers and whines of desire.

“Uh. You…said somethin’ about tyin’ me up?” Angel mumbled, clinging to Alastor’s coat even as they separated. Something about the gesture felt very different from his experience with Tino earlier, so it didn’t bother him. He unknotted his tie and slipped it out of his collar, then knelt behind Angel to tie his wrists at his back. “Sounds like you’re gonna get a little rough. Maybe we should have a safe word?”

“No need,” Alastor answered, determining the best way to bind all four of Angel’s hands at once and making sure they were tied tightly. “If you want me to stop, just say so, and I will.” Or not. It would depend on how the evening went.

“Huh. What a gentleman.” Once Angel’s hands were bound, Alastor got up to shrug out of his coat and rolled his sleeves up, then turned the lights out to leave a single lamp in the far corner as their only illumination. Despite being so tall, Angel turned out to be surprisingly light, so rather than ask him to lie down, Alastor simply lifted him and then pushed him down against the bed on his back while his breath turned heavier with anticipation. He did look nice this way, sprawled and squirming, awaiting whatever Alastor chose to do with his body.

Part of his enjoyment typically came from his victim’s fear—but he supposed there was no need to rush. They would get there in due time. For now, he pressed his lips to Angel’s neck, kisses quickly turning rough and leading to bites that broke skin and drew blood. Angel shuddered and arched and groaned “fuck” under his breath but didn’t try to escape. His hips lifted slightly, so Alastor pressed them down with his own, enjoying the choked cry that fled his guest’s lips. His blood was hot, hotter than most, and delicious, but Alastor made a point of not lapping it all up, preferring to let some stain Angel’s skin and the sheets instead.

“Beautiful,” he purred, and he could’ve sworn an anemic blush painted Angel’s cheeks.

“Y-y’know,” he breathed, “you were kinda scarin’ me a minute ago. Talkin’ about ‘pain’ and all. But if this is the worst you got…” That almost sounded like a challenge. In fact, judging by the playful smirk curving his lips, it absolutely was.

“Careful what you wish for, cher.” Alastor’s hands slid up the sides of Angel’s thighs, underneath the hem of his skirt and up toward his hips, then dug his fingernails in and dragged them down roughly, forcing Angel’s hips closer to his own and coaxing a deep, tortured cry from his throat. Although visual art wasn’t typically Alastor’s genre of choice, he couldn’t help but appreciate the angry, stark red lines against Angel’s pale skin.

“More,” the dancer begged, pleading at Alastor with eyes hazed in lust or pain or distress; it was hard to say which. Regardless, it was compelling. Slipping a hand into his pocket, Alastor produced an ivory-handled switchblade knife, which he opened with the press of a button. This little blade had seen him through countless situations much like (yet far different from) this one, and it was still sharp as ever. Upon seeing it, Angel’s eyes grew wider, but he still didn’t protest, biting his lip and waiting to see what Alastor would do with it.

The Radio Demon was sure to take his time about this, first running the cool metal along the still-hot welts on Angel’s thigh to make him shiver. He then traced the edge very gently up Angel’s arm, but even this soft pressure was enough to break skin, leaving a thin, thin red line in its wake. The dancer took in a shuddering breath but tried his best to keep still, watching as Alastor ran his tongue along the wound, then sat up to kiss him again. Despite tasting his own blood, he participated as actively as before, even teasing a soft hum of pleasure from Alastor’s lips as well. He couldn’t help himself; everything about this moment was so strangely familiar yet new, so expected but not, and he found his feelings about it weren’t all the same as usual.

When the kiss ended, he slowly, lazily cut an X into Angel’s right shoulder, enjoying the way he shivered from the sensation. “It hurts,” the dancer whispered, so soft as to be almost inaudible. Still, his tone was unmistakable.

“And you like that?”

Again, he flushed slightly, and it wasn’t until Alastor held his chin and forced him to look up that he answered. “Yeah,” he confessed, his gaze shifting between the Radio Demon’s eyes and his lips. “Are you…actually gonna fuck me, or are you just gonna hurt me all night?”

Alastor recoiled slightly. At no point during all this had he seriously considered going through with anything sexual. He was there to satisfy a craving, certainly, but not that sort. This was a game, a farce, nothing but a way of extending his devious enjoyment of his victim’s pain. So what was it in him that wanted to say yes, to pin Angel down against the bed and make him scream in a different way?

“Didn’t you say there were no rules?” he prompted, trying to brush those thoughts away and focus.

“Sure. It’s just…now I’m all worked up.” Looking up to meet his eyes, Angel admitted softly, “So I want it.”

Every moment this went on, every moment that Alastor enjoyed the pain he was inflicting and the moans that came with it—knowing the pleasure was mutual and that Angel wanted it too—served to further cloud his mind about exactly what he was doing. This wasn’t supposed to be enjoyable. It wasn’t supposed to be something his victim wanted more of. And worse yet, he wasn’t supposed to like fulfilling their wishes. It was meant to be him taking satisfaction in the suffering of another. Something about this night had thoroughly thrown off that formula.

Trying to move past it and away from all those confusing should-be’s, he sat up slightly and dragged the knife to the juncture of Angel’s neck and shoulder instead, cutting in slightly and watching the dancer—no, his victim—flinch. “H-hey, not there,” Angel finally protested, trying to move away but more or less trapped against the bed by Alastor’s body. “Anywhere below there’s okay, but—”

“Oh, but I thought you liked this, cher,” Alastor insisted, trying to find his way back to the cold and detached tormentor he typically embodied in these moments. His blade moved higher still, closer to Angel’s throat, and he relished the more panicked squirming of his prey’s body.

“I’m serious.” Angel’s voice quavered with nervous fear as he tried to draw away. “Alastor. Stop it.”

“What, does this cost extra?” the Radio Demon chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay whatever you like.” The tip of his knife came to rest just under Angel’s chin, where his pulse was visibly pounding, and he stretched his head as far away as possible. This would be the easiest solution to the confusion that had come with this night. Just end it quickly. Cut right here, only an inch or two, and watch his life spill onto the sheets. No more questions. No more doubt. Just enjoy it for what it is and then on to the next.

“Look, if you’re trying to scare me, it’s working. I get it, okay? You win. Just stop.” The discomfort in his voice was frustrating, in a way. He’d been responding so positively all night, yet now was the moment he faltered? It was much easier to believe that Angel was doing something wrong than that Alastor’s change in behavior had frightened him. As Alastor pressed down on the knife, ready and willing to put all this behind him, Angel snarled and coiled up his legs. “I said, get off!”

His feet planted against Alastor’s chest and kicked, hard, much harder than expected, forcing the Radio Demon to stumble backward off the bed. When he managed to right himself, he realized Angel Dust had sprouted a third set of arms and was trying to use them to unbind his others. There was fear visible in his eyes, but more than that, there was anger. Good. He was indignant, willing to fight. Good. It began with a dance. It should end with a dance.

“Who’s the one playing hard to get now, cher?” Alastor asked with a wicked grin, pouncing on the bed to pin his playmate down again. This part, he could do without thinking, by reflex, which made it much simpler. As he tried to plunge his knife into Angel’s chest, however, the dancer twisted away at the last moment and the blade was buried in the mattress instead.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Angel hissed, still struggling to free his arms.

“Don’t pretend you haven’t been enjoying my attention, chéri. Now hold still so I can give you more.” Grabbing up his knife again, he started to attack—but Angel was ready this time and delivered a surprisingly solid kick to his jaw. Apparently, those boots were more functional than they looked. Even as Angel finally got his hands free, Alastor managed to recover and force him down on his back again.

Then something unexpected happened. After a moment of futile struggling and realizing he wasn’t strong enough to break free, Angel met Alastor’s eyes for the briefest moment, then sat up and kissed him again. This reaction came by reflex as well, and he found himself delving deeper into the kiss, as close to ‘turned on’ as he’d ever been before. Angel shoved at his shoulders, rolling them over as one so he was kneeling over Alastor’s hips.

Maybe this wasn’t such a terrible turn to take, Alastor supposed as his hands slid up the dancer’s thighs again. Maybe he could be satisfied with a different form of pleasure, as long as Angel was willing to—

He broke off the kiss with a gasp at the feeling of cold metal against his throat. Angel remained close, still panting against his lips, but his eyes had turned cold. He had apparently retrieved the weapon Alastor had absentmindedly discarded while they kissed, and he now held it firmly to the Radio Demon’s neck.

“Get your hands off me,” he growled softly, and Alastor obeyed without a word.

Somehow, he found himself at a loss. Maybe he was disappointed in himself for being distracted so easily. Maybe he was subdued by the warmth of Angel’s body or the sight of him—still bleeding, flushed, panting hard—or the knife held to his jugular. Whatever the reason, the fight had left him altogether and he was now just a bit bemused.

“Now fuckin’ stay there,” Angel ordered. He shoved away to get to his feet, keeping his eyes on Alastor and a tight grip on the knife. While the Radio Demon watched, he stepped back toward the table where Alastor’s coat had been discarded, then rooted through it for a moment to find (of course) his wallet. It was almost disappointing to see him back away to retrieve his own jacket and purse, then head for the door.

Was that it? All this excitement, then he just took his payment and left? Was this how most sex workers felt about their own encounters? And why didn’t Alastor make more of an effort to stop him? Was he an Overlord or wasn’t he? If he’d tried, he could have easily overpowered the slender Angel Dust, regardless of whether he had two hands or ten. Yet there he lay, on his back, on the bed, watching his would-be victim shrug his jacket back on and walk to the door.

“Guess you couldn’t keep up after all,” Angel sighed, standing in the doorway and combing mussed hair out of his eyes with his free hand. “Too bad; I was havin’ fun there for a minute. See ya around, Al.” With this, he flung the knife expertly across the room to stick into the mattress between Alastor’s legs. Was it a trick of the light, or was he actually smirking as he left the room and pulled the door shut behind him?

Alastor let his head drop back against the bed. Well. That certainly was an experience. It was the first time in his long and colorful career that any victim had successfully escaped him. There were those who fought, perhaps, but none who had ever won. Yet Angel had caught onto…whatever it was that made this night different from all the others, well and truly ruining Alastor’s chances of regaining control.

He could try again, tonight or some other night. But now, he found, he no longer wanted Angel dead. He still wanted something, but he wasn’t entirely sure what. No, Angel had said the word himself. More. Whatever bizarre tango they had just performed, Alastor needed an encore. Next time, he told himself, he would be better prepared. And he had no doubt that Angel would find a way to throw off his rhythm nevertheless.

[thiswasinevitableid]

#7? NSFW? Sternclay? Pretty please 🙇‍♀️

7: It’s our one year anniversary fuck how does one celebrate an anniversary of rivalry and one-sided devotion?

Joseph Stern, alias Agent M, has accomplished what no other member of the National Hero Control Task Force has been able to: he has captured a member of the elusive Pine Guard.

The guard has been causing chaos for the better part of two years, bringing important projects such as oil pipeline development, ICE facilities, and start-up construction to catastrophic halts. 

Stern isn’t invested in those projects, but he believes in the greater good, in law and order. 

One member of the guard in particular has caught and held his attention since he first laid eyes on him. Bigfoot, or so he’s called, has eluded most of their security tapes in a way his compatriots haven’t, and has been reported as more than once saving civilians and bystanders from danger.

He also once stayed behind to ensure Stern stayed conscious after sustaining a head injury. Stern has never been able to get an explanation as to why. But after that day, puzzling out Bigfoot’s motives, his past, his personality has become Sterns true goal. 

Convenient, then, that the man is currently strapped, standing up, to a holding table in his base.

“I knew word of those files would get your attention.”  He stands toe to toe with Bigfoot, who growls but says nothing.

“There’s no call for that. Besides, even if you’d managed to infiltrate here without alerting me, there wouldn’t have been anything to steal. All the information on the identity of the pine guard members is up here. I haven’t shared it with my superiors yet.” He taps his head.

“So, you’re bluffing.”

“Not at all. Barclay.” 

Dark brown eyes go wide with concern. 

“Okay, so you got me. That doesn’t mean you got the rest of us.”

Stern sighs, counts off on his fingers, “Mothman is Indrid Cold, Jackalope is Aubrey Little, Cactus Cat is Dani Coolice, Champ is Duck Newton, Hodag is Ned Chicane, Jersey Devil is Arlo Thacker, and Echidna is Madeline Cobb.”

Barclay sags in his restraints. 

“What do I have to do to keep them safe?”

“Nothing. You’re eco-terrorists, Barclay. Even if I wanted to I can’t keep the information I gained secret from my superiors.”

“You could. Like, literally. Just don’t tell them.”

“I can’t do that. I’m sorry.” The apology doesn’t come out as hollow as he needs it to, and Barclay arches an eyebrow.

“Ahem, anyway, you won’t be needing this anymore.” He lifts off Barclays blue mask (one that compliments his coppery beard), not surprised at all by the face underneath yet delighted at seeing it. He’s thought it handsome since the first time he laid eyes on it

The spell is broken by Barclay biting his hand. He yelps, dropping the mask on the floor. 

“That wasn’t necessary.”

“Neither was unmasking me. Jesus, you never struck me as some gloaty douche  but obviously I was wrong.”

That stings, and so Stern turns on his heel with a flourish. 

“Careful, or I won’t share dinner with you.”

“Oh no, no gruel or power bars or whatever you joyless fucks eat for me--do you smell saffron?”

“Yes.” Stern wheels out the small cart, covered platter glistening atop it and a vase that’s too small for the bouquet sitting in it trying valiantly not to tip over. “I made us saffron rice with lamb, and red wine dark chocolate cupcakes.” He removes the cover, feeling rather smug.

“Shit that looks good.” Barclay whispers, licking his lips. Then he looks up, “Wait, made us?”

Oh lord, the confusion on Barclay’s face sends pangs through his chest. What he wouldn’t give to kiss it away. 

“I, well, it has been exactly a year since we met. And I was trying to think of ways to mark the date, and I know you like cooking and food and so this seemed like a good gift.”

“...Did you make us a fucking anniversary dinner?”

“Technically? Yes.”

“Alright, Mister special agent, how am I supposed to eat it when I’m strapped to a fucking table?”

“I could, um, feed it to you? I shut off the cameras in this room so that I could do so without embarrassing either of us.”

“This what you do every Friday, strap random guys down and feed them? Sounds pretty kinky.” Barclay smirks. 

“I enjoy being helpful, something a so-called ‘hero’ should understand. And I didn’t choose a random guy; I strapped you, specifically, down.”

Barclay fixes him with an amused look before shrugging as much as his bonds allow, “Fine, you clearly worked hard on dinner. May as well make the most of it.”

Stern slices a chunk of lamb, offers it to Barclay who parts his lips without hesitation.

“Holy shit, that’s good.” The blissed out look on his face is one of Sterns favorite views in the world. He hates having to pretend like he hasn’t seen it before. 

As he cuts another piece Barclay asks, “You make the bouquet too?”

“Yes. I took some classes on flower language and  arranging a few years back, and I like doing it.”

Another bite, and this Barclay sighs happily before cocking his head, “You just not gonna eat?”

“Guests eat first.”

“I’m a hostage, agent, not a guest.”

“My point stands.”

“Y’know, if you just undid my hands, we could eat at the same time. Make it a real anniversary dinner instead of some repressed man in black feeding me my last meal as a free man.”

“I’m not just any man in black, I’m your main rival. You said so yourself, once. And the answer is no to the unlocking.”

“Well, there goes that option.” 

Stern sees him tug the strings of his woven bracelet a moment too late. He braces for an explosion or a weapon flying at him. 

Instead, reality warps for a nanosecond, and then Barclay isn’t in front of him anymore. Staring down at him is what he can only describe as a Bigfoot. And honest to god, fur-covered, claw-handed Bigfoot.

A Bigfoot that is no longer restrained. 

“You’re, you’re really-”

“Yep.” Barclay lunges, but instead of grabbing Stern he reaches for the cutlery, tossing it up and over the rooms computer center and far out of range.

Then he grabs Stern by the back of his neck, slamming him against the restraint table. Stern retaliates, jumping up and landing his feet against Barclay’s chest. There’s an “oof” but nothing else. Stern tries to catch him with his stunner, but Barclay avoids him easily, twisting his hands behind his back and letting go as he launches Stern into the window. Mercifully it's made of bullet-proof, triple strength glass, so he doesn’t plummet fifty stories to his death.

He’s simply pinned by his nemesis, the city lights thousands of eyes watching his defeat.

“Are you, ow, all monsters?”

“Nope, just some of us. And you’ve put me in a real bad situation, agent.” Barclay growls in his ear, “first by blabbing that you, and only you really did know our secret identities, and then leaving me no choice but to take off my disguise.”

“I, I’m sorry your poor problem solving skills caused you to reveal that Bigfoot is not merely a codenameOW.” Barclays claws pierce his suit, “Go ahead and kill me. I won’t give up any information to the Pine Guard. I’m prepared to die in the service of my agency.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes.” He lies

“Nothing you’d miss?”

“No.” 

A rumbling purr in his ear this time, “Not even me?”

“N-no, what, where on earth would you get that idea?”

“Flowers gave you away. Red carnations are admiration, daffodils mean unrequited love, and orange roses are fascination.” 

“That’s a coincidence.” He grits his teeth to prevent the truth spilling out. 

“Not for a guy who admitted he knew their meanings. And you know what else?” He clips Stern’s hands behind his back in cuffs designed to hold the super-strength of Duck Newton, making escape impossible for Sterns normal-human abilities “you put some wild grasses in their to fill the whole thing out.”

“So?”

“Grass means submission. You put all your feelings for me in a vase and gave me plenty of time to take them in, probably thinking it a clever in-joke to yourself. But that one? I’m betting that one was accidental, subconscious. You want to submit. Whether that’s in general or to me I have no clue.”

“Just you.” He may as well confess it. One less secret to carry to his grave.

A low, dangerous chuckle fills the room as he’s spun away from the window and shoved to his knees.

“That what you want, agent?” Barclay replaces the bracelet, becoming human before his eyes, “Want to be a good boy for me?”

He nods, cheeks hot and gaze locked on the floor until Barclay yanks it up by his hair, tearing strands loose from their carefully gelled hold. 

“Aw now, no need for that.” Barclay traces the path of the blush with his thumb, voice mockingly sweet, “know your overlords like everyone to be emotionless, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting a good fuck, even if half the city can probably see it from here.”

“Oh lord.” He moans, the image sending his thoughts, his dignity, his blood, south.

Another laugh, his head yanked sideways to take in the view, “Damn, you like that too, huh? Like the idea of everyone watching while one of America’s finest begs me to fuck his face. Your superiors finding out their best agent is so needy he’d do anything for me to touch him?”

The tears pricking his eyes are from want, not shame, when he chokes out, “yes.”

Barclay turns his head forward, then up. 

“Please, Barclay,  please.”

“Please fuck you?”

“Yes.” He whimpers.

“Nope. Sorry, agent, I don’t sleep with the enemy, even if he gives me the worlds bluest puppy dog eyes. Not to mention, threatening the people I love is the opposite of being a good boy. But since it’s our anniversary, I think you do owe me a gift.” His fingers touch the edge of Sterns mask, “let’s see who’s been tracking me for a year.”

“Wait, don’t-” The mask tears off. The two men stare at each other, frozen, one in surprise and the other in fear.

“Joseph?” 

“Hello.” He wants to look away, to see literally anything other than the betrayal on Barclay’s face.

“I, uh, I imagine this will lose me the title of ‘favorite customer’ at the Coffee Lodge.”

“You, you’ve been spying on us. You’ve been at the Lodge almost every fucking day since June, and you’re Agent fucking M, I, I can’t-” Barclay paces, fingers running through his hair, “Did you start coming just to stake us out?”

“Yes. I tracked your movements, Barclay. I’m ashamed to say I accessed the medical records of anyone in the target area who had top surgery to narrow down my suspects, and eventually identified you as Bigfoot. Once I started getting coffee at the lodge everyday it was easy to piece together who else was on the team.”

“Yeah, and flirting with me probably helped a lot.”

“Uhhhhhhhhm.” 

“Oh, come on, don’t try to pretend that wasn’t part of your investigation.”

“It isn’t. Wasn’t.”  He lowers his head meekly. 

Barclay stops moving, sighs heavily, “Is there anywhere in this damn place that’s smaller and doesn’t have cameras?”

“My bedroom only has one. Just take down the smoke detector on the right hand side as soon as we go in.”

Barclay easily lifts him over his shoulder and trudges down the hall and into the bedroom. Rips the “smoke detector” from the wall, sparks crackling when he does. Then he deposits Stern on the bed and turns his desk chair to face it. 

“We’ve got about forty-five minutes before my ride gets here. Talk.” Barclay sits down, crosses his arms while Stern attempts to sit up straight.”

“Wait, how can you know that.”

A mild smile, “You really think I’d walk into such an obvious trap without an escape plan?”

“No.” He mutters, dejected, “what do you want me to say, Barclay?”

“The truth, genius.”

“You seem to know most of it already.”

“Yeah, but one big piece is missing; why the hell didn’t you write down our identities somewhere the higher ups could find them if something happened to you? Shit, why not just sic a bunch of agents on us when we were all at the lodge making, or drinking, coffee?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Because the lodge was my haven too, alright?” Stern snaps, “I felt understood there, safer than I did in any secret base. And every time Dani laughed at something Aubrey did, or Duck told some corny joke, or you smiled at me, I understood more and more why you all do what you do. I felt my commitment to my work waning. I had to do something to reiterate my belief in it. This was that something.”

Barclay is silent for a moment, taking Stern in bit by bit.

“You want to leave the NHCTF, don’t you?” He leans forward in quiet shock. 

Stern nods, defeated, “I’ve been questioning our methods for some time, but always thought that what we did was in the service of keeping people safe. I’m still not fully convinced the Pine Guard is going about it the best way, but from what I’ve seen, you do a far better job of it than we do.”

“So join us. Help us figure out how to be even better.” Barclay reaches for him, takes his hand.

“You’d ask me to just like that?”

“Most of us like you, Joseph. We’re not super into Agent M, but it’s not like we haven’t noticed you’re not chasing us down as much as you used to. Also, I’d be a really crappy superhero if I didn’t at least try to recruit the smartest man I know to our side.”

Stern blushes more than necessary at the compliment. 

“Okay. I’m in. I’m ready to try being a different kind of good guy.”

“Welcome to the Pine Guard.” Barclay presses the secret hinges on the cuffs, and they drop to the floor. 

A fit of giggles in Sterns throat pours out into the space between them, “Jesus, I didn’t think betraying the government would feel so liberating.”

“Always knew you were a good guy, deep down.”

Another blush has him cursing his capillaries. 

“Heh, you do like it when I call you good.”

“Yes. Though as you observed, I have a weakness for humiliation as well.”

“Y’know, we’ve got a little bit of time still.” Barclay leans back, and Stern perks up when his hands hit his belt.

“And it is our anniversary.” Stern sinks to the floor, covers a few inches on his knees to rests his head on Barclays thigh.

“Shit, you really are a needy little thing.” Barclay shifts and wiggles awkwardly in order to get his close low enough to give Stern the access he needs. Stern nuzzles his inner thigh, skates his hands along muscular legs, making a mental note to discover what they feel like naked and tensing in time with their owners moans. 

“You’re rather, uhm, slick already. Is this where you tell me you got into heroics because you get off on fighting?”

“Nope, just on manhandling you. And you’re in no position to comment, agent.” The growl he puts into that last word has Stern melting forward. Which is helpful, in that Barclay shoves him down the rest of the way. He licks and sucks eagerly at him, moaning messily when Barclay tilts his hips up, pressing and rutting against him. 

“Like I, fuck, said babe, you’ve got no room to feel smuggAH--shit that felt good--amazed I didn’t walk in on you in the lodge bathroom with some dudes dick down your throat while another one fucked that tight ass.”

Stern would like to point out that a) he would never do such a thing in a business he respected and b) there’s only been one dick he’s wanted anywhere near him in months. But he doesn’t dare pull away. Instead he whimpers, shakes his head and takes all of Barclay’s cock into his mouth.

“Hnnnshit, maybe I got it wrong, maybe you, fuck, were one smile away from falling to you knees and begging me to fuck you over the counter.” 

Stern nods emphatically, pawing at any exposed skin he can find on Barclay stomach and hips,  and the larger man laughs.

“Fuck, much as I wanna hold you down and come all over that handsome face, got something else I wanna do even more.” He lets go of Sterns head, nudges him back so he can join him on the floor. 

“Wha-ohshit’ He gasps when Barclay rips the front of his pants off, wrapping one large hand around his cock. But when Stern tries to thrust up into the warm, tight fist, Barclay pins his hips down with one hand. There’s such easy strength in the movements that Stern tilts his head back to rest on the spotless bedspread, because baring his throat feels like the only suitable response. 

Teeth just sharper than they ought to be sink into the base of his neck, but even as he arches and thrashes in response, he can’t get any stimulation on his cock. Coarse coppery hair tickles his skin as Barclay laughs, “Cute how you think that’s enough begging to get what you want.”

“Barclay, please, I, I’ve wanted this for months, it’s all I want, I will do anything.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Poor special agent, so desperate.” Barclay’s tone is cruel as he drags his hand up in one long, slow stroke. Stern eagerly awaits a downstroke that doesn’t come. 

“Well? Gimme one good reason to indulge my pathetic new plaything.”

“I, I, I’ll be good, so good for you, let you do whatever you want, fuck.” The barest movement of Barclays hand and he sobs, “please, I just want to be good, I just want you to use me, god, please just tell me what you want.” 

“Admit you’re a needy fucker who likes the fact the other cameras in this building can probably hear him begging me to-”

“I am, I need you so badly, I need this, I want you so much, I need youOHyes, yes.” He groans happily as Barclay switches to rapid strokes and drags one of Sterns hands between his legs. He keeps his fingers outside for the time being, focuses on circling his thumb and dragging the other digits in tight patterns.

“C’mon handsome, jack me off, show me how much you like your reward oh fuck, fuck, Joseph, that’s it babe, fuck that’s good.” His head drops to mouth at Stern’s neck with a moan as he grinds against Sterns palm, “shit, shoulda asked you out last week like I was planning to, coulda been doing this every night, yeah, ohyeah.” As he comes his grip on Sterns cock tightens, and even as he rides out his orgasm he’s growling, “come on agent, lemme see you ruin those fancy clothes.”

Stern comes with what sounds, to his ears, like a pathetic cry. Yet as soon as he spills onto his stomach and Barclays hand, the larger man kisses his chest, whispering sweetly, “You’re so good, did so good for me baby, you’re amazing.”

With unsure fingers, he brushes a strand of loose hair from Barclays cheek. Barclay looks up, smiling so tenderly Stern worries he’s dreaming. Then Barclay sits up, cupping his chin and drawing him into a gentle kiss, sighing happily when their lips meet. 

“Is it selfish to be happy that you joining the team means I get to see you everyday?”

“Not in the least. Though you see me most days at the coffee shop anyway.”

“Yeah, but now I get to do this” another kiss, somehow twice as tender as the first, “when I do.”

Stern curls into his arms as he continues, “guess we oughta get you a codename now.”

“You know, I’ve actually given that some thought. Given that only some of you drew your names from cryptids or, um, I suppose your true forms, I think there’s room for a codename that reflects my history with secretive government agencies while staying on theme?”

“I think so too.” Barclay smiles expectantly. 

“In that case,” Stern grins back, future brightening ahead of him for the first time in years, “just call me Roswell.”