#i also just love that hes a light n fast character; moves are sharp and quick

[samarecharm]

Watching a streamer do some joker matches (vs sora) in smash and i forgot how much i looooooove jokers moveset in this game; hes such a little menace ☺️

[perseephoneee]

ask me to dance? [isaac lahey x f!reader]

request: can you do some wholesome isaac content?

warnings: pure fluff. teenagers being awkward.

a/n: me? remembering to write? shocker. literally struggled with this lol but i'm here and i'm trying to write more in order to be a productive member of society. also i'm so in love with Isaac it's not funny *cries*

↳ masterlist ↳  want to be shipped with a fic character?

It never really got cold in Beacon Hills, considering it was located in California. Still, when temperatures started to fall to a mild climate, it signaled to the teen population that winter was fast approaching. And with that came Winter Ball. Which is all you've been able to think about. 

To anyone who would ask, it wasn't that big of a deal– but you secretly thought about it. All the outfits, the decorations, the romanticism of it all. Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in you, especially as someone who has never had a date. It used to not bother you; you were happily involved in your studies or worrying about being murdered by a supernatural at any time. But then you started spending more time with a certain werewolf and thought it wouldn't be that bad to care about that stuff. 

"Do you think Scott is going to ask me?" Kira said, scaring you out of your thoughts as you closed your locker. You took in the dark-haired female beside you, her eyes questioning and fingers tapping her books. "Will I have to ask him?"

"He'll ask you," you sighed. "He trips over his shoelaces every time he walks down the hall."

"Maybe he didn't tie them well?" Kira looked down the hall as if the boy in question would show up. 

"He likes you," you sent a small smile. Kira relaxed slightly, loosening her shoulders before facing you with a questioning glance. 

"Do you have anyone to go to the dance with?" Kira inquired, plain curiosity in her eyes. You knew, though, that she wanted more info on if you liked anyone. Even with her as a good friend, you rarely discussed those feelings with anyone. Usually, you were the one everyone else confided in. 

"Might not even go," you averted your eyes as Kira slapped your arm lightly. 

"You have to go!" Kira begged. "I can't go alone if Scott asks me."

"Kira, you won't be alone if you go with Scott." She silenced you again with a sharp look. 

"You know what I mean," Kira sighed. "I just don't want you to shy away from something you might enjoy. Especially when I am certain some eligible young bachelor or bachelorette would be interested in going with you."

You pressed your back into your locker, looking down at your scuffed shoes rather than the girl beside you. You glanced up when you caught sight of Scott and Isaac in your peripheral vision. Kira grew still as she saw Scott shuffling closer to you to hide. You tried shoving her, but the kitsune was an immovable rock as Scott and Isaac got closer. You saw Scott's eyes light up as he caught sight of Kira, and you wanted to smile when Kira's cheeks deepened. You made it a point to not stare at Isaac next to him, even if you really liked the blue sweater he was wearing. It's purely observational, with no lurking feelings behind it. 

"Hey guys," Scott smiled, holding his backpack straps like a kindergartener on the first day of school. "Whatcha guys up to?"

"Talking about the dance," you answered right as Kira tried to pass your prior conversation off as nothing. She shot you an angry look, but you hid the smile on your face as Scott perked up. "Kira wants to go but worries about not having a date." The look Kira shot you could be akin to being burned in the seventh circle of Hell, but you knew that your fair-weathered friend would've spent the whole time pondering if Scott liked her rather than making a move. 

"I don't have a date either," Scott grimaced, trying to pass off as a smile. Kira visibly perked up, and you and Isaac barely hid smiles. "Maybe we can go together?" 

The glee that overtook Kira's eyes was radiant, and she nodded enthusiastically. "I would love that," Kira grinned. 

"Great," Scott beamed. "Can I walk you to class?"

Kira grabbed her books, sending you a look that said, "We'll talk later," while happily following the alpha wolf. You turned towards Isaac, feeling your heart start pitter-patter as he made eye contact with you. He gave you a shy smile, fidgeting with the books. 

"They seem happy," you sighed, trying to break whatever tension you imagined. 

"I'm glad it worked out," Isaac said, his steel blue eyes connecting to yours. "Scott was getting annoying."

"So was Kira," you slyly smiled. "What about you?" Isaac looked at you inquisitively. "Are you…going to the dance?"

"I don't think so," he mumbled, averting his eyes briefly. You felt your heart sink in disappointment. Luckily, you were spared a response with the bell ringing. 

"See you around, Lahey," you smiled jokingly, trying to brush off any lingering feelings you had. You turned on your heel and walked off towards the direction of US History. You barely paid attention in class, though, your thoughts consumed with the micro-interaction by your locker. You didn't like Isaac, right? You just were disappointed a good friend wouldn't be there at a dance you might not even be attending. Totally rational feelings. At least that was the mantra you kept repeating till the end of the school day. 

You managed to keep most Winter Ball-related thoughts at bay for the rest of the week while you helped the pack deal with whatever issue. Sometimes, it felt like you guys lived in a CW show with a villain of the week, but somehow, fighting and scheming became part of your routine. You would never admit it to anyone, but you did enjoy the research portion of your problems. Even if it was you and Stiles eating pizza in his room while staring at way too many red strings. It made you feel wanted in a way that you haven't before. By the end of the week, though, the only research you were doing was for a class project. You were already debating when you could (reasonably) quit for the night and curl up with some Netflix or Hulu. Your phone rang by the fifth academic journal, and you glanced to see Lydia's name lighting up the screen. 

"Hello," you said, setting your phone on speaker. 

"Dress shopping tomorrow. Are you in or out?" Lydia asked on the other line. 

"For what?"

"Winter Ball, obviously," Lydia scoffed, the sound of rustling clothes in the background telling you she was going through her closet. "The fact I've waited this long when it's two weeks out is actually ridiculous, but with our life, I guess it's not surprising."

"I might not even go, Lyds."

"Don't be like that," Lydia sighed on the other line. "What's holding you back?"

"Kind of lame to go to a dance without a date," you mumbled, shrinking back into your chair. Maybe if you curled up in a ball and became a turtle, no one would ever ask things of you again. 

"All of your friends will be there, and most girls will probably ditch their dates anyway," Lydia chimed. "And besides, who cares? I don't have a date either, and I'm still going."

"I thought you were going with Stiles."

"In a completely work-related situation," Lydia coughed, even as you rolled your eyes. "He knows that."

"I'm sure he'll figure it out by the tenth corsage he buys you," you snickered.

"Just come tomorrow; Kira is joining. We'll get dresses, lattes, and have a day where werewolves don't intrude." You bit the inside of your cheek, staring at your laptop screen as the words melted into mush in your brain. You could at least hang out, even if you didn't buy anything. 

"I will come," you amended, almost hearing Lydia's excitement from the phone. "I won't promise that I'll buy anything."

"Grab you at 11 a.m., be ready," Lydia chimed, hanging up the phone. You sighed and put your head in your arms, wondering what you got yourself into. 

It was a reminder that waking up by 10 a.m. was a struggle for you. You barely dragged yourself out the door as Lydia spammed your phone, pleading for your coffee as you slid into the car. Kira laughed at you as you curled up in a ball and muttered about sweet death taking you soon. Lydia drove up to the coffee place, an ivy-strewn brick building called Cafe Allegro, and you bolted out of the car and through the doors. The smell of roasting coffee beans and the whir of the espresso machines welcomed you like a blanket on a cold night, and you wondered if you could ask that when you die, it could be in a pile of coffee beans. You ordered your latte, not having to wait long to get your order as you stood off the side, inhaling the fresh scent. Having been absorbed in your calm, you didn't notice the boy standing next to you. 

"You are really into your coffee," Isaac remarked, scaring you out of your stupor. You made a pathetic yelp, grimacing as a chuckle escaped his lips. 

"It's too early."

"It's almost noon."

"Too early," you sighed, sipping the heavenly goodness in your hand. "Why are you here?" 

"Scott and Stiles dragged me to the suit rental place and told me they didn't want me left alone to wallow or something like that," Isaac laughed, shoving his hands in his pockets. He was wearing a heather gray henley today that you were enjoying and trying your hardest not to notice. "If it's so early, why are you here?"

"Similar reason. Lydia and Kira dragged me dress shopping," you glanced up at him before looking around the shop and realizing that your comrades were hiding on the opposite side. Annoyingly leaving you with the person who gives you immense jitters. 

"Do you think you'll get a dress?" Isaac inquired. 

"Not sure why, don't have a good reason to," you mumbled, staring at your cup. Gosh, your heart was beating fast, and your stomach hurt. Maybe you should've gotten something calming like herbal tea. 

"You should get one," Isaac coughed, looking visibly uncomfortable. For a second, you worried that you were annoying him. "You would look…pretty."

"Thanks," your cheeks burned. "Then, you should get a suit." You swallowed, feeling like your head was in a whirlpool. Isaac's eyes looked at you with something akin to interest, but you passed it off as your caffeine-filled hallucinations. 

"We should go to the dance together," Isaac said quickly, tensing slightly as he awaited your reaction. Your eyes widened, and you had to remember what solid ground felt like as his words sank in. 

"I would like that very much," you breathed. Isaac's demeanor softened, relief flooding his eyes. He bit his lip to stifle his grin, which was the worst mistake he could've made as now all you were focusing on was his lips. "Gotta go," you announced, bolting from him before he could say anything else or before you jumped him at a coffee shop. You made it to Lydia and Kira and dragged them out of the door, not bothering to look back for fear of embarrassment. Lydia had mild complaints, but mostly, Kira gave you a knowing look. 

"Is there a reason for this rush?" Kira asked, eyebrows lifted in question. 

"I need a dress," you said. Lydia and Kira shared a grin and you knew there was a specific reason they left you with Isaac in the cafe. You wanted to strangle them and kiss them for it. 

The ride to the dress shop was short, but the anxiety building like a knot in your stomach persisted long after. Isaac asked you to the dance. He asked you for some unknown reason. You guys were friends and occasionally worked together. Still, you struggled to have a conversation before that didn't end with you saying something weird and making it awkward. You used to chalk it up to just not having common interests. Still, if you admitted the truth to yourself, you would know it's because you had a giant raging crush on the werewolf. Words were not in your vocabulary around him. 

Entering the dress shop (a cute place called Laura Jane's Boutique), you were suddenly reminded why you didn't really want to go in the first place. You love pretty things, but the over-glitzy dresses and jumpsuits are not your style. At least Kira looked as out of place as you. Lydia led the charge, though, immediately saying "no" to many dresses on the rack and holding up some options for you and Kira. You did love it, though, Lydia caring enough to try and find the perfect dress for her friends. It made you feel wanted. 

You wandered into one of the back sections, skipping the colors you would never wear. What was Isaac's favorite color? Maybe that's the color of dress you should go with. Your inner voice told you it shouldn't matter what color you wear. Not just because you value your independence but because Isaac would love it either way. 

You pushed some dresses aside on one of the racks, stopping at a shorter-length dress. It had bell sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. It was simple but not understated, and you loved it. 

You went home that night feeling like you were on a cloud. Except, like all good things, your crippling insecurities had to rear its ugly head and make you start questioning everything. Laying in your bed, the dress still in its tissue-wrapped bag, you stared at the ceiling, debating what had happened. What if Isaac only asked you to the dance because it was convenient? Or worse, he was asked to by someone like Scott or Lydia? He probably didn't like you at all. Why would he? You were human. Unremarkable. 

Vibrations could be felt in your head as your phone rang, and you begrudgingly grabbed at it without checking the caller ID. "Hello?" you grumbled.

"Hey," the tenor voice said from over the phone. "Can I come over?" 

"Isaac?" you asked, sitting up in your bed. "Is everything okay?" Oh my gosh, was he hurt? Or rescinding his previous offer of the dance.

"I just want to see you," he breathed. "Is this a bad time?"

"Never," you answered quickly. "You can come over."

Ten minutes later, of anxious pacing in your room, you got a text from Isaac saying he had arrived. You ran downstairs to open the door, slightly winded from the rush. Isaac's face was illuminated by your porch lights, and all you could think about was how pretty he was. 

"Hi," you spoke, looking up at him.

"Hi," Isaac smiled, "can I come in?" Nodding, you opened the door further so the golden-haired werewolf could enter. You gestured for him to follow, leading him to your room for privacy. You started to regret that decision when you realized that you had invited someone you were interested in into your bedroom. This was the plot of a bad romance novel. 

"What brings you to my humble abode?" you inquire, twirling to face him.

"I came to check on you," Isaac glanced around your bedroom, smiling faintly at your posters on the wall. You watched his eyes catch on your corkboard, where a photo of the two of you at Derek's loft is in prime display. It was after saving the day, and Stiles had bought multiple tubs of ice cream to celebrate. Derek demanded why this "celebration" had to be at his place. However, Stiles had never once listened to Derek's complaints and hosted it anyway. You loved that picture and that memory. 

"Check on me? I'm not in danger again, am I?" you smile, sitting on your bed and subconsciously grabbing one of your stuffed animals. 

"Kira was over to see Scott and mentioned you might be 'spiraling into oblivion,'" Isaac turned to you, quoting Kira's words. Sometimes, you wondered if that girl was telepathic with how well she knew you. 

"Maybe a little," you mumbled, fidgeting with your fluffy friend. Isaac hesitantly sat next to you on the bed, his weight causing you to sink closer to him. 

"Can I ask why, or should I just infer?" he chimed, grabbing another stuffed friend you have and twirling it around. It was a blue chicken from a video game you play, with a cute pink gizzard and round body. "I like this one."

"Do tell," you chuckled, watching him squish the chicken plush. 

"It's squishy," he muttered, patting it on the head before setting it carefully beside him. Your heart wanted to burst at the small interaction. 

"I was worried about the dance," you responded, answering his previous question. He gave you a sidelong glance, asking you to elaborate. "I don't know why you asked me."

"I like you."

"Like me, or like me?" you whispered, barely able to get your voice heard. Unfortunately, Isaac is sitting next to you and has a werewolf hearing, so he didn't miss a thing. He hesitantly grabbed the stuffed animal from your fidgeting hands, putting it aside before carefully holding your hand in his own. 

"I think you're amazing," he smiled, looking at you with eyes the color of a lakeshore. "So yes, I like you."

"I like you too," you breathed, a smile gripping your lips. "When did you get good at socializing?"

Isaac laughed, still holding your hand as he absentmindedly traced shapes on your knuckles. "Had lots of time to practice conversations while trapped in a freezer."

"You need therapy."

"Probably," he laughed, grinning at you before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Your breath caught in your throat as he looked at you. "Can I kiss you?" 

You barely managed a nod, your heart thumping loudly in your chest as Isaac kissed your lips. It was soft and somewhat hesitant, like he didn't want you to run away afterward. You boldly deepened the kiss, as it felt like water filled your ears and a marching band played in your heart. The hand he wasn't holding you used to capture his face, his free hand lightly gripping the outside of your thigh. It wasn't fireworks but an ocean at high tide with waves crashing against the shore. And you didn't mind it one bit; you hated fireworks anyway. When Isaac did pull away, his breath was warm against your lips, and you had to remember to let out a shaky breath before you hyperventilate. Isaac kissed your cheek, pulling back to look at you with pure adoration on his face. 

Kissing him again was pure bliss, and you couldn't help but look at him with awe. You weren't sure how you were granted something this good when you've spent your whole life dreaming of something worth half of this. Still, you wouldn't exchange it for anything. It meant you got to spend Winter Ball with the most handsome boy on the dance floor. 

[eunsuri]

Clandestine

Pairing: Namor x Reader

Summary: While whispers of unrest in the surface world spread through Talokan, Namor offers you another of his surprises.

Word Count: 3199

Warnings: Just a little physical fighting and a tiny bit of implied smut (just a second)! Lots of fluff and soft Namor with a little spice!

A/N: This one is a wee bit longer than Sanctuary, but is somewhat of a part 2 for it! I used a translator for the Yucatec Maya parts to stay true to Namor's character, and also researched a lot of Mayan traditions/rituals so pls do let me know if I've got it wrong at all! I hope y'all enjoy though hehe been up all night finishing this up 🤍

Also posted on AO3 for those who prefer to read there  🤍

“Ready?”

A deep breath released from your lips, fingers curled around to grip your spear tighter, while your eyelids lifted open.

Namor stood at the ready a small distance away, his own spear held in preparation and eyes that anticipated your response. The droplets on his tan skin glistened in the light of the cavern, his hair still slick from the water and dark strands folded back to reveal his attractive face.

It had been a while since you’d had to enter into battle, and whispers of the growing unrest in the surface world were making their way around Talokan. Although you had power of your own, it was time to learn how to fight like the Talokanil. You would not sit back in Talokan while the king and his warriors fought among the surface.

You steeled your heart, tucking away the love for the man before you, and shifting the sight of him into a target. With a quick nod, you rushed forward, leaping from the ground and slashing your spear down towards Namor, who swiftly blocked your attack from below. His weapon pressed against your own, effortlessly twisting it to the right to flick the sharp tip to the ground and forcing you backwards.

You couldn’t help but stumble for a moment as your spears disconnected, taken aback by the reminder of his strength. Recollecting yourself, you twirled your weapon to your desired grip and swung at his side, to which he blocked once again and ducked down, shifting fluidly behind you. The cold sensation of his pure vibranium spear pressed against your neck, the sharp edge inching close to your skin. Shit he’s fast.

“You need to move faster, you would be dead by now.” Namor instructed as the ice cold metal left your neck.

A breath you had unknowingly been holding slipped out while you turned to face him, but you were not given a moment to prepare. This time, he attacked first by swinging his spear down towards your shoulder, and so you gripped your spear with both hands, bringing it up to shield yourself. Using a similar technique to his first, you rotated your weapon to bring the sharp edge of your own down to swipe at his legs.

Namor caught the lower handle of your spear as it moved, and you mirrored this by releasing one hand to grab at his own as the two weapons disconnected. You tightened your grip on both spears, rotating quickly to your left in an attempt to take the weapons for yourself. However, you found yourself tugged back instantly, your back pressed against his chest with the two spears crossed firmly at your own.

“That’s it,” he chuckled with a smug grin, the heat of his breath tickling your ear as his lips brushed against your skin. You could feel the ridges of his jewelry and the warmth of his skin on your back, the strength of his arms closing you in.

Usually, this would send a fluttering through your stomach and cause a weakness in your knees, but you were determined to best him. You pushed forward at the two spears, then pulled your elbows back against his torso, using your grip to support you as you slipped out of his arms and onto the ground. Staying low, you swung your leg against his shins, but his winged feet carried him into the air, where he reacted quickly by sending your spear shooting down at you.

Your reflexes activated and you raised a hand to shield yourself, energy releasing to blow the spear away. You glared at Namor in disbelief, “Hey, I said no flying!”

“And I said no powers,” he retaliated, landing on the craggy ground beneath you. “You asked for this, my love. Would you rather have trained with Attuma?”

You huffed in disapproval at this while he picked up your spear and tossed it in your direction.

“Again.” You caught the spear and twirled it in your hands, analysing him as he stood ready once again, before you made your next move. Namor was much stronger than you physically and had centuries of experience in battle, but you would need to find a way to outsmart him. 

Without hesitation, you darted towards him, the sound of clashing vibranium reverberating through the large cavern as the two of you continued your attacks. Eventually, you found yourself tumbling against the ground as he brought his spear down in an attempt to trap you in place, but you quickly manoeuvred your legs around his ankles, securing his wings down so he would not be able to fly and bringing him to the floor of the cavern.

You moved speedily to grasp his forearm and pin it down so that he could not attack, while shoving the handle of your spear against his throat, your other elbow pressing down on his opposite shoulder. You’d finally pinned him down against the rocky floor of the cavern, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath.

“Very good,” he complimented, capturing your attention with a dark blaze of hunger burning in his captivating eyes. 

Namor’s gaze travelled to your parted lips, memorising the detail of every curve, before flicking back up to study the colour of your irises and the depth of your pupils. His free hand gently tickled your back as his fingers trailed up your skin towards your neck, tugging you down until your chin pressed against the cool vibranium spear. You felt your stomach stir with anticipation, his mouth inching closer to yours and electric tension between your beings drawing you in. You could almost taste his breath, with the soft skin of his lips grazing tenderly, like feathers against your own.

Until, the coldness under your chin became pressure against your throat, the wings on his feet brushing against your ankles as he trapped your legs with his own, swiftly turning you over to swap places. The spear you’d used to pin him down now pressed you in place, the ground cold against your back and your movements restrained by his strong grip. 

You narrowed your eyes at the smirk he wore, unable to suppress the curving of your own lips. The hunger in his gaze remained, and the tension continued to pull at you both, engulfing you with its force. Namor rewarded you with a kiss, which you returned gladly, clutching at the jewels hanging from his neck to tug him closer to you. The warmth of his hand cupped the back of your head, lifting you nearer and shielding you from the hard ground, as he continued pouring his love through your lips and into your heart.

However, the sound of wet footsteps and an awkward cough pulled the two of you apart, snapping your attention across the cavern to a familiar face.

“In akaljantik.” I am sorry. The woman you’d come to know as Saya spoke timidly, lowering herself onto her knee and opening her palms with wrists pressed together towards you both in greeting. “K'uk'ulkan, táan k listos teechi'.” We are ready for you.

K'uk'ulkan gave a quick nod, removing the spear from your throat and rising to his feet. “Nib óolal paal áanteni'.” Thank you, my child.

He reached for your hand as you moved freely from the ground, lifting you to stand at his side. A light kiss was placed upon your brow while he handed over your spear, his thumb running over your knuckles at your grip.

“We will continue this tomorrow,” he declared, bringing his mouth close to your ear and whispering this time. “I have something to show you this evening.”

With that, Namor’s warmth left you to follow the woman into the water, leaving you with confusion riddled across your face.

What could he possibly have planned this time?

The thought plagued your mind through the rest of your day. Hours had passed and you had gotten yourself cleaned up after your training, but there was still no sign of Namor.

A quiet sigh escaped you while you placed the golden cuffs worn on your arms atop the small table in your room, preparing yourself for a rest. You shrugged the cloak Namor had made for you, over your body, bringing you warmth as you removed more of your adornments for the day. He loved to shower you with gifts, jewelry most times, and at other times, exquisitely designed clothing or decorative shells.

You preferred his cloak of course, coated in that clean, yet earthy, and slightly musky scent of your lover, but the one he’d had sewn together for you fit perfectly and was decorated in beautiful patterns which mirrored his art. 

The glittering of your favourite ring stopped you in the process of removing your jewelry, wrapped around your ring finger with ancient patterns engraved all around the band. Namor loved to surprise you, and the ring served as not only a symbol, but also a reminder of your union. 

“Come with me, in yakunaj.” My love. He took your hand in his own, leading you towards a cavern you’d never seen before, where a figure waited near the water.

The sound of a light drumming could be heard while you made your way through the cavern, along with the scent of flowers mixing into the smell of the earthy ground beneath your bare feet and the saltiness in the air from the water. Moonlight peered through the small gaps from above, illuminating the central area with the help of the glow worms hanging along the walls.

Namor paused as you arrived at the centre, where the figure stood by a small table carved from the rock of the cave. An array of yellow and white flowers decorated the tabletop, along with bowls carved from seashells, two golden headdresses, and two rings. The figure who awaited you was dressed with an intricately designed headpiece of his own, the jade around his neck contrasting with the blue of his skin. A shaman.

“What’s all this?” You questioned as your eyes roamed the cavern, brows coming together in confusion.

“In ki'ichkelem puksik'al. My heart.” Namor began, carefully taking your free hand into his own and drawing your attention to him. “I want you to marry me.”

It had all made sense then, the ivory coloured cloak he’d gifted you, the shaman, the matching rings; a wedding. 

Though you trusted him completely and wanted nothing more than to leap into his arms, accept his proposal, and marry him instantaneously with the joy filling your heart, you couldn’t repress the concern which flashed across your mind first. You knew the importance of his kingdom and its people held the highest priority, their king and revered god taking a surface dweller as his wife could spark too many questions.

So you questioned him. Were the Talokanil to know of this union? What would his people think? Would they question K'uk'ulkan? Would this mean he was betraying centuries long beliefs which had been instilled in his people? 

He’d then assured you of his decision with words you would always remember.

“I’ve dedicated my entire life, centuries of it, to my people and our home. This is the one thing I want for myself. You, my love.”

He truly had dedicated his entire life to Talokan. It was time, he was ready to take this chance, and so were you.

You would deal with the questions and consequences later, tossing all your concerns away for the time being to relish the moment of your sacred union. The ceremony had been intimate, almost clandestine, shared only between yourselves and with the shaman as he led you through ancient rituals. 

You’d shared a sacred beverage in a small bowl carved from a stunning, thick shell, Namor’s hands warm over your own as you’d poured the liquid through your lips, feeding your soul. You were given a golden headpiece of your own, akin to his with a more subtle design. The one he’d worn for your ceremony was also more modest than his traditional royal headdress, smaller in size and embellished with feathers, yet still regal as ever.

He was always beautiful, but the way his eyes had gleamed so radiantly in the moonlight was breathtaking. He’d worn a white cloak for your ceremony, which hung beneath the golden adornments across his shoulders, complimenting the glow of his tan skin and the jewelry around his neck. He was truly ready.

The two of you had then exchanged flowers, rings, promises, and finally, yourselves. The shaman declared your union, your hands tied together with a thin, detailed chain which reflected the rippling of the water in the cavern. Once the ceremony had been completed, you’d later celebrate your marriage privately, with your husband adorning kisses from your ear and down your neck.

This was followed by his hands and lips wandering your skin in a new way, truly claiming you as his with whispers across every inch of you, proclaiming his love over and over. “In k’áatech.” I love you.

Too enthralled in the pleasant memories, you missed the sound of footsteps behind you, the fluttering in your stomach amplifying when your husband’s arms wrapped around you. His lips pressed to your temple, the cuff which you wore on your ear, crafted of gold and jade capturing his attention. The accessory curved along the shape of your ear, but with a tip that pointed to clouds, in honour of him.

You felt his lips curl, brushing against the skin behind your ears affectionately while he tightened his embrace. However, you couldn’t repress the pained wince that resounded as the pressure of his arms nudged one of the bruises you’d earned from your training.

“Sorry, still healing.” You turned in his loosened grasp to see concern painting across his face. 

“I should’ve known it was too soon,” he spoke quietly, his brows pinched together with a shake of his head.

“I’m still a mutant, you know. It’ll heal.” You reassured him, cradling his cheek in your palm and mapping a thumb over his cheekbone. 

Though the room was dim, the tension was evident in the king’s aura, an invisible weight anchoring down on his shoulders, while the endless thoughts clouded the deep brown of his eyes. 

You traced your fingers gingerly to the point of his ear, trickling down as you asked softly, “What’s on your mind, yakunaj?” Love?

Your love studied your features silently, you could see his jaw clench for a moment, before he spoke. “I want you to come to Wakanda with me.”

You were at a loss for words. You hadn’t left Talokan in a long time, almost a year from what you could remember. Though you had made short visits to the surface over the years, you’d remained in the depths of the ocean for the time being, under the protection of your husband, safeguarding his people and his future. 

The news of unrest in the surface world had spread through the underwater empire, rumours swirling of more attacks on Wakandan outreach facilities. You knew Wakanda would soon call on Talokan to help eliminate the threat, but the sobering reality of a looming war caused your heart to plummet. 

You swallowed the tightness in your throat away, giving a small nod of understanding, though you knew he could read the apprehension in your eyes. You knew he would not have asked this of you unless he truly needed you there. After all, you had something far more precious than any resource or land to protect in those caverns now.

“The fight is not yet here, but we need to know what we are facing,” Namor explained, bringing his hands to the nape of your neck, thumbs caressing the edge of your jaw to soothe you.

Releasing a breath, you relaxed into his touch with another nod. He touched his lips to your forehead with gratitude, showing his appreciation for your understanding. His hands travelled their way down your back, one wrapping over your own and the other freeing you to gesture towards the other room. 

“Come.” He began to lead you into the sanctuary, where his breathtaking murals decorated the walls. 

He then stepped away, unravelling the cloth which covered a tall item laid against the table. Flat against his hands, he revealed a vibranium spear, embellished with gold and jade, incredible Mayan patterns engraved along its shaft. It was unlike the weapon you used for your training, this was a true Talokanil warrior’s spear.

“I had this made for you, my love.” He brought the spear forward, allowing you to run your fingers along the engravings, the metal cool against your touch.

“It’s beautiful.” Your voice came in a breathless whisper, gripping the handle to test the weight of your new spear. “Nib óolal.” Thank you.

“I have something else,” he continued, reaching for a second item from the table in the middle. “I want you to wear this when we make our visit to Wakanda.”

A gorgeous necklace, intricately designed with glittering gold and smooth jade, vibranium weaved in between the larger pieces of the thick chain. Presenting your second gift, your husband made his way behind you, placing the stunning jewelry across your chest, and hooking it together. The sensation of his fingertips over the skin of your neck sent a tickle down your spine.

“Thank you, my love.” You traced a finger against the necklace, turning on your heel to face him, spear in hand. “This is all so…Royal. I’m no queen.”

“You are my wife and my most trusted advisor. You are a part of me, so you are royalty,” he declared, while the back of his warm fingers brushed down your cheek and traced down to your chin.

“You spoil me too much.” You gave a light laugh, before the sound of a soft cry behind the king grasped your attention.

“Nothing could compare to what you’ve given me.” His lips tugged into a gentle smile, adoration laced into the tone of his voice as he retreated slowly to the previous room.

You rested your spear against the wall, near an empty space he would soon fill with another piece of his murals, then followed his steps. You watched as he carefully lifted a small bundle from the bed, the spitting image of your beautiful husband cradled into his chest.

“You’ve given me the greatest gift I could ever have,” he whispered, his eyes gazing lovingly at your child, the warmth of his father’s skin against his cheek soothing the tiny cries.

Your heart swelled in your own chest, the love for your little family overflowing and igniting a blaze in your skin. This is what you had to protect, not only Talokan and its people or resources, but your family and your tangible future. You would fight until your last breath with Namor, alongside the Talokanil and Wakanda, to protect him as he’d protected you. Nothing would take this away from you.

The overwhelming affection for your little family pulled you towards Namor, his free hand reaching for you, bringing you in as you held your future in your arms.

Tagging the lovely @catslovetoreadtoo and @loonymagizoologist hehe 🤍

[quinloki]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 12

Whether you like it or not, this will leave you in... Suspense.

Character: Kaku Reader: cis!fem Warnings: bondage, shibari, vaginal fingering, dom/sub play, 18+

Summary: You teased Kaku for his rope work and he puts you in your place - in more ways than one. -:- 1696 words

Show You the Ropes

One minute you were having a nice conversation with Kaku on your couch, the next you were on your stomach in the middle of the living room floor with your thumbs tied together and a line of rope anchoring them to your big toes.

As long as you didn’t move it wasn’t uncomfortable, but struggling made your thumbs or toes ache.

Kaku was crouched beside you, looking quite pleased with himself.

“I told you I was fast.” He says, bright smile on his face like he’d just given you a cup of coffee.

Your face was flushed, and you were almost breathing heavy. You’d yelped embarrassingly loud when he’d suddenly manhandled you.

“I, merf, concede.” You admit, trying to escape. “N-now let me go.”

“I already have you like this, maybe I can show you a few more knots.” He replies, running his hand against your foot. “Don’t squirm, and I’ll make it better.”

“Buh – better?! N-no, wait, wait, Kaku!” You feel the rope slipping between your ankles, anchoring to your arms just before he slipped the rope around your shoulders. The weight on your thumbs and toes is gone. There’s a tug at your shoulders and ankles, but it’s not nearly as sharp as before, and you can move a little.

More pointedly, Kaku can move you. Now you’re on your side as he’s still working, threading ropes over you quickly.

“Ka-Kaku, dammit!” You struggle, uselessly you know, but you’re trying to break his focus.

“What is it, little filly?” He questions, leaning down to catch your gaze. Once he asks the question, however, he tugs on the ropes.

The whole network tightens against you, and not even against anything sensitive, but the sudden tightness rushes through you and you moan loudly instead of answering him.

There’s a moment of silence as you both process what just happened.

Kaku smiles and you start to argue.

“No, wait – wait, that was – that was just surprise!” You insist as he’s looping more rope through the harness. “Why do you have so much rope?!” You finally blurt out.

Kaku laughs, that light carefree sound of his you’ve always loved. “Galley-La tests our knots yearly.” He explains, looping more rope. “Afterward we take stock of the rope, and discard anything that’s rotting or fraying.” He braids a little bit, and you can feel the pressure of rope against your clothes and then against your skin.

It’s turning you on and you hadn’t expected that when you’d teased Kaku that he wasn’t that good of a rigger. You would not have tempted your sweet, boy-next-door boyfriend if you knew what it would do to do. Because you knew, damn well, that he was one of – if not the best – rigger in Galley-La.

“This stuff was on the edge of things, so I wanted to bring it home and really go over it. See if any could be salvaged.” He finishes explaining.

Your face is turned toward the floor, and you’re hoping your hair is hiding your face from him enough. You can feel the network of rope over your body and you’re also very aware of the almost uncomfortable wetness between your thighs.

Kaku’s hand rests on the back of your thigh when he’s done – or you think he’s done at least – and your body tenses for a second. He rubs your thigh a little until you relax as much as you can, and then leans down.

He doesn’t move your hair out of the way, but you can feel the warmth of his breath as he speaks.

“You’re really trembling.” He says softly, and you can feel his fingers walking between the knots against your clothes. It’s a light, almost tickling touch, just barely pushing your clothes against your skin. “I didn’t strip you, you can’t be cold.”

By the time he’d finished tying you up, you were on your stomach, ankles pulled to your hands, knees parted. There was a soft strain on your muscles and joints, but the ropes and the anchors were holding you in place comfortably enough. A little more rope and an anchor point and he could have you suspended from the ceiling if he wanted.

“Not… not cold.” You manage, trying to keep yourself under control. “Nothing…. Hurts either.” You turn a little toward him, still trying to hide your current state. “I con-concede again.”

“Hmm…” His hand presses against your body more and you tense, trying to keep yourself from crying out again. It doesn’t do you any good, with his hand on you he knows you tensed, and you can almost feel the joy radiating off him.

“Kaku…” You nearly whimper his name as his hand moves toward your hips.

“What is it, little filly?���

“Please… please d-don’t.” You gasp, pleasure building up in you. He has one hand in the middle of your shoulders, pressing you gently in place, the other moving along the curve of your ass.

“Please don’t what?” He prompts, pausing his movements.

“Don’t tuh-touch… I mean, I mean just untie me please.” You’re nearly begging, but you don’t want to vocalize your situation.

“Don’t touch you?” He nearly laughs the words. “You mean, you don’t want me to put my hand between your legs cause your greedy little pussy’s soaked right through your pants and you’ll cum if I tease you.” He pulls your hair enough to force you to look at him. He’s got that cheerful smile on his face, but there’s a controlling and domineering look in his eyes.

This probably wasn’t how either of you planned to admit your kinks to one another, but the way he was looking at you right now was sending a thrill through your body.

You nod, not sure what else to say or do, and the sweet smile on his face twists to match the look in his eyes. He steps over you, and rolls you onto your side, steadying you and cradling your head in the crook of his arm.

“If you want me to stop.” He says, free hand moving down the front of you slowly. “Don’t say something like no, or stop.” He explains, putting his head against the side of yours, letting his voice fall into your ear. “Say something like… giraffe.” His lips pull into a smile as you huff out a chuckle. “Because, little filly, I want you to beg me.”

“Ha… haaa, h-how?”

“That’s up to you.” He says, fingers popping the button of your jeans. “What’s going to make you cum harder, I wonder? Begging me to stop, or begging me to grant you release?”

You squirmed in the ropes, causing them to groan a little, but Kaku’s work was absolute. You decided quickly, and tried to move away from him.

“D-don’t…. Kaku… don’t do it.” You start to beg, feeling the blood rush through you as he uses his legs to hold your squirming body in place better. “No, ah!” His fingers slipped under the band of your pants and felt cold against your feverish skin, hot with need and want.

You freeze as his fingers slip under your underwear, and your breath is coming out in short, panting gasps.

“K-Kaku, don’t – don’t.” You’re almost whimpering the words, and every time you beg him to stop it just makes your body hotter. You don’t want to move because you don’t what him to touch you until he decides to do so, but every second is so long.

His middle finger slips into your pubes and your body arches as much as it can, bound and braced against Kaku. “No! No, wait! Wait! I’m gonna-!” His finger pushes down and slips roughly against your clit, breaking your begging for a moment as you nearly cum.

That long finger teases your clit and you suck in a breath, letting out a whine as everything starts to come to a head.

“No, no, I don’t wah-want to kuh-! Cum! I duh-don’t want… want…” Your words collapse into a pile of unintelligible whines as Kaku holds you. You can’t squirm away from the pleasure, or him, or anything. You’re completely caught.

Pleasure tenses your already taut body, and you’re drooling as you cum. The single finger Kaku used to bring you release, turns into two, and the man who could win the Best Boy Next Door Award™ keeps you at the peak of your orgasm for a solid minute. You don’t know if you came a second time or just didn’t stop orgasming the entire time.

Both fingers slip further down, starting to curl into your vagina. The feeling was intoxicating, but when the third orgasm started to build, you felt panic rise up in your chest.

“N-No, no, Kaku! Ah, guh-giraffe!” You cry out. Kaku’s hand was already coming out of your pants at the first no, something in your tone had him concerned, and by the time you said the safe word he was already starting to cut the ropes.

“It’s okay,” he says sweetly, keeping you steady against him as you shiver a little. “You did good, it’s okay.” He continues to reassure you as he cuts the ropes and pulls them away. Your exhausted limbs just crumple to the floor, and he moves enough to pull you up into his lap.

“That was a little too intense,” he says with a small chuckle on his words. “Especially for a first time, but you did so well.”

You lean into him, your earlier anxiety about orgasming in such short succession had turned into guilt when you’d said the safe word, but now you were relaxing, glad to hear that Kaku wasn’t irritated or angry. You look up at him, embarrassment scrawled on your face.

“I can… um… take care of you.” You prompt, and see that gentle smile shift into something sheepish.

“Oh! Um. I’m good.” He says, clearing his throat before he looks away. “I… I finished.”

You press your lips together as understanding dawns, and watch Kaku’s face go red. He clears his throat again and looks back to you, tilting his head enough to kiss the tip of your nose.

“You beg exceptionally well, little filly.”

[braveclementine]

Falcon

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OC Elizabeth Lightwood. I do not condone any copying of this.

Steve grunted, pushing against the rubble and looked over to him. Both Natasha and Y/N were unconscious. He quickly pushed everything out of the way, trying to figure out how best to get both of them back to the truck, and quickly.

Y/N was lighter and smaller of the two. He hesitated, and then picked her up, carrying her over his shoulder, before carefully bending down, picking up Nat, trying to cradle her in both arms, while also holding the shield in his other arm.

He saw lights coming from the direction opposite the truck. He quickly turned, running as fast as he could. It was awkward running and he could already feel that the jolting was causing Y/N's body to slip down his shoulder. But he could stop. He couldn't abandon either of them.

His luck came when he felt Natasha struggling in his arms. He immediately put her down, letting her run with him, though she still looked disoriented. He moved Y/N into his arms, cradling her the same way, shoving his shield into Nat's hands instead.

"Start the truck and drive." Steve shouted, yanking open the backseat of the truck and Nat leaped into the front.

Once Nat was on the road, he checked out Y/N. Her breathing seemed nonexistent and he checked for a pulse. Fear lit in him when she didn't respond.

He listened again, this time, hearing her breath hitch in her throat like she was choking.

Choking on what? There had been no water.

How did he save her?

Hesitantly, he went for CPR. Lowering his mouth to hers, he started the drill. He closed his mind against the fact that her lips were softer than Natasha's, pulling back quickly to pump her chest.

Her lips, soft as they were, were almost familiar. They reminded him of his own soulmates lips, although his soulmate had had slightly thicker ones. But they were just as soft.

Suddenly, there was a sharp inhale, and Steve relaxed as Y/N's eyes fluttered open. He held her carefully as she tilted her head, hawking and spitting, until there was a small rock that came up out of her throat. Then she collapsed into a coughing fit, tears streaming down her face.

When she finally came to, she looked up at him from where her head was laying in his lap and mumbled, "When I said I wanted to kiss you, that wasn't exactly how I imagined it."

He smiled just a little.

"I'm curious." Nat said from the front as though Y/N hadn't just recovered from the brink of death. "Tony is your soulmate. You love him, but you want to kiss Steve. Why?"

Y/N blushed a little, coughing again. "I never um- you know- got to practice when I was young. Boys just- weren't interested in me like that. And my parents- I mean you know what they're like Nat. I guess I kind've just wanted to see what it would be like, to have someone that wasn't your soulmate, that wasn't someone who was designed to love you, interested in you. That was all. Sorry if I made it awkward Steve." She sat up, rubbing her throat.

"It's alright." He told her, and he was truthful in that. He felt the same way. No girls or guys ever looked his way. His soulmate was the only person that he ever kissed before he became a super soldier. After he became something spectacular, there was that blond and then there had been Peggy. But he knew how Y/N felt.

Suddenly, feeling bold, Steve touched his fingers under her chin and leaned in to kiss her once more. It was a soft kiss, something Steve had missed very much. Y/N responded easily, before pulling away shyly. "No Steve, you're not a bad kisser at all. But, that will also be the last time I kiss you."

"Understood." He said with a secret smile. Y/N smiled at him, and then soon feel asleep in the back of the car. And he didn't complain when she fell sideways, landing in his lap once more.

"Don't fall in love with her Rogers." Nat warned him from the front, looking at him in the rearview mirror. "Stark will make you eat Iron Man lasers."

"I know." Steve said. "I won't."

🎃 :::::  🧡  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  🧡  ::::: 🎃

Steve led you and Nat to a random house in a quiet suburb, knocking on the door of said house.

The door was slid open by a dark skinned African American man. He was taller than you with not a lot of hair and kind brown eyes. He looked worried though, as he looked at the three of you. "Hey, man."

"I'm sorry about this. We need a place to lay low."

"Everyone we know is trying to kill us." Nat mumbled.

The mans eyes shifted from her, to Steve, to me, and then back to Steve. Your throat was still killing you from where you'd inhaled rock and almost almost died. Natasha's face was dirty and you could tell by the grit in your hair that you weren't looking much better.

"Not everyone." He said.

You got to see Steve almost naked as he wore a white tank top underneath all of the rest of the clothes. And you supposed he got to see you almost naked since you'd stripped down to your sports bra. You couldn't stay in the clothes that you had since they were ripped and bloody.

Turns out, one of the reason you felt so tired was because you'd never taken care of a piece of glass in your side since the fall. Steve pulled it out now and you winced, but didn't make a noise.

"I'm sorry." Steve mumbled to you.

"You saved my life. Three or four times now. I'm still deep in debt to you." You muttered back, before looking in the mirror, seeing the dirt streaked down your arms. You reached behind you awkwardly, trying to wipe it away.

Steve took it from you, finishing cleaning up the streaks. You did the same for him.

"I should've listened to you." He said suddenly.

"We." Nat said from the other room and you stepped out of the bathroom to look at her.

"When?" You asked, both being cheeky, yet also truly curious.

"In the room. When you were telling us we had to go." Nat muttered. "I guess. . . I figured if I felt there was no danger, then there was none. And it was narcissistic of me, to assume that since I was the better agent, I knew better. Sorry for thinking you're just a kid."

"Oh." You said and then shrugged, "It's a rabbit thing. I've always been good at feeling out whose good or bad and then when to run. I just don't know why I didn't get a bad feeling about Pierce."

Nat looked up at Steve and said, "I owe you."

You snorted. "Join the club."

"It's okay." Steve smiled a little.

"If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life, now you be honest with me: would you trust me to do it?"

"I would now. And I'm always honest."

Nat nodded, "Well, you seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out they died for nothing."

"Well, I guess I just like to know who I'm fighting."

"I made breakfast," The man named Sam said, walking in. You wondered what it looked like to him, two girls in their sports bras and a guy in his tank top. "If you guys eat that sort of thing."

You giggled, hopping up. "I do for sure. Lead the way."

You followed Sam out to the kitchen, still slightly aware that you were still in a sports bra and leggings.

"Um, here." Sam muttered, darting into a room and coming back out with a black shirt. "Might be a little big. Sorry."

You smiled, putting it over your head. "It's fine. So where's the food I've been promised."

He laughed and I felt that I was slowly warming him up. "Over here."

"So the question is, who at S.H.I.E.L.D. could launch a domestic missile strike?" Nat asked.

"Pierce." You and Steve said at the same time and Steve added, "I'm listening to Y/N from now on, just in case you're wondering."

You laughed and continued to eat the toast that Sam had buttered for you.

"Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world." Nat sighed.

"But he's not working alone." Steve said thoughtfully. "Zola's algorithm was on the Lemurian Star."

"Okay, so who is high up that was on that boat?" You asked. You had heard of the mission, but you hadn't gone on it. And really, all that you heard was that Steve had jumped out of the plane without a parachute on his back. "Oh and if what I heard is true, wear a parachute next time."

"Jasper Sitwell." Nat answered in realization while Steve smirked.

"So, the real question is, how do the three most wanted people in Washington kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D. officer in broad daylight?" Steve asked.

"The answer is, you don't." Sam said. He slapped a file down in front of Steve.

You reached for another piece of toast, buttering it yourself this time, and started to nibble on it. You wondered if you should risk calling Tony from Sam's house phone. But it definitely wasn't secure enough. You wished the two of you had another method to talk to each other with. But unless you wanted to train carrier pigeons, you were out of luck.

"What's this?" Steve asked.

"Call it a resume." Sam said.

"Is this Bakhmala?" Nat asked, picking up the picture that had been on top of the file. You leaned your chair back to see the picture. It was two people, one of them being Sam. "The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you?"

You wished you knew more about the missions and operations you kept hearing about.

"You didn't say he was a pararescue."

"Is this Riley?" Steve asked.

"Yeah."

"I heard they couldn't bring in choppers because of the RPGs. What did you use? A stealth chute?"

"No." Sam said, picking up the folder and handing it to Steve, "These."

Steve looked down at whatever contents were in the file as you reached for a third piece of toast and finished off your orange juice.

"I thought you said you were a pilot."

"I never said pilot." Sam said with a smile.

"I can't ask you to do this Sam." Steve said, shaking his head. "You got out for a good reason."

"Dude, Captain America needs my help. There's no better reason to get back in."

Steve nodded and said, "Where can we get our hands on one of these things?"

"The last one is at Fort Meade." Sam replied. "Behind three guarded gates and a 12- inch steel wall."

Steve looked at Nat who shrugged. "Shouldn't be a problem."

You snorted.

🎃 :::::  🧡  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  🧡  ::::: 🎃

You waited, bored, on the roof. To keep yourself occupied, you pictured your moment with Tony when all of this was over. You'd run into his arms and kiss him, that was for sure. You'd sit him down, you'd tell him about Steve because you didn't want a single secret between the two of you. You'd tell him he was giving you CPR, you woke up, boom it was then a kiss.

And you'd also tell him what Zola said about his father. It was only fair that he knew, considering it was his own father and his mother. Maybe Tony would start to dig and find out what happened.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and you saw Sitwell slide across the concrete. Steve came following right after, "Tell me about Zola's algorithm." You pulled out your gun, crossing your legs, and rested the handgun across your top one.

"Never heard of it." Sitwell said, getting to his feet hastily.

"What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?" Steve asked.

"I was throwing up. I get seasick."

Sitwell continued to back up, not even noticing that you were there, so when you stood up, putting the gun into his back, he jolted, nearly sending you toppling over the edge except Steve's hand reached out, grabbing your wrist, pulling you forwards.

Steve grabbed the front of Sitwell's clothes and he was smiling, "Is this little display meant to insinuate that you're gonna throw me off the roof? Because it's really not your style Rogers."

"You're right." Steve said, letting go and actually smoothing his clothes out. "It's hers." And then Natasha stepped forward and gave such a satisfying kick to his chest that you grinned, feeling satisfied.

"Wait. What about that girl from Accounting, Laura. . . "

"Lillian. Lip piercing, right?" Steve said.

"Yeah, she's cute. Soulmate less."

"Yeah. I'm not ready for that. Lip piercings really aren't my thing." Steve said. "To weird."

"Trashy." You piped up.

And then Sam zoomed upwards, dropping Sitwell. You watched his wings in amazement and wondered if you could get Tony to build you something like them.

The four of you approached him and he put his hand out, still on the ground. He was nearly sobbing as he said, "Zola's alogirithim is a program- for choosing- insight's targets."

"What targets?" Steve demanded.

"You! Stark! A TV anchor in Cairo, the Under Secretary of Defense, a high school Valedictorian in Iowa City, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to HYDRA."

"What?" And you were surprised that Sam was snarling.

"Now, or in the future." Sitwell finished, gasping for breath.

"In the future? How could it know?"

Sitwell laughed and Sam drew closer, looking mutinous even still. "How could it not?" He got to his feet. "The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught HYDRA how to read it. Your bank records, medical histories, voting patterns, emails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores!"

"Oh good, I took the ACT." You muttered.

"Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future."

"And what then?"

"Oh My God. Pierce is going to kill me." Sitwell muttered.

"What then?" Sam demanded at the same time as Steve.

"Then the Insight helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time."

Sam grabbed Sitwell around the throat, "When is this happening?"

Sitwell scratched at Sam's hand and Steve nudged him. Sam let go and drew out a phone, immediately lifting it to his hand and started to pace. You watched him, wondering.

"Stephen?" Sam finally gasped, "Thank God."

Huh. So he'd freaked out because he was soulmated to Stephen Strange.

Whoever that was.

"No, listen-"

Sam looked annoyed and gritted his teeth as he was interrupted. "I know you're at work, but you also know I wouldn't call unless this is impo-"

Sam's nostrils flared. "GOD DAMN IT STEPHEN LISTEN TO ME! I need you to get somewhere safe! Do you understand me? I will explain everything after I see you. And I may have to cancel dinner plans tonight, we'll see."

Another pause, this one quieter.

"I can't tell you. You'll be in to much danger if I do. This is. . . different. I love you." Sam hung up on him, looking worried.

You raised an eyebrow. Sam looked at you. "He's an arrogant, rich, narcissistic, handsome, egotistical, eloquent, workaholic, loyal jackass who I happen to love. I don't know why Zola's algorithm thinks he's dangerous."

You nodded for a moment and then said, "Yeah, he sounds a lot like Tony."

🎃 :::::  🧡  ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  🧡  ::::: 🎃

Tony picked up the ringing phone, holding a sleeping Everleigh on his hip. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Hey." She sounded exhausted, tired, and hurt. He could hear that she was in the car because he could hear the sounds of cars around her. There were also the sounds of people talking around her. "I have to say this quickly."

He stayed quiet.

"There's this program called Zola's algorithm. Basically, it can find find any threats to HYDRA."

"HYDRA, what do they have to do with this?" Tony asked in surprise.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. is HYDRA." She answered. "Pierce, Sitwell, they're all part of HYDRA. But the algorithm said Stark was a threat. It didn't give first names though so it could be me or you or it could even be Everleigh. But it also mentioned Bruce. Is he still at the tower?"

"I think so." Tony said, trying to remember. "I think he's down in the lab."

"Good. Please Tony." She whispered. "Stay safe."

"You too." He whispered, and then hung up. 

[sunnyx07]

If you take requests, can I have Atsushi being comforted by the reader when hes crying because they saw him as a weretiger? Please?

Request?: yes Summery: The reader runs after Atsushi, as he lost control of his tiger form, getting hurt in the progress. Character?: Atsushi nakajima Genre: Angst to fluff

A/n: hi hi! Thank you so much for your request, it was different than most of them and I'm glad I made it! Please feel free to request more for it to be written in the near future. For now enjoy the fanfic! <3

All you could think about is ‘Run as fast as you can’.

You ran through the screaming crowd, trying to reach the one you love with all your heart. Atsushi and you have been assigned with a mission, it wasn’t a difficult mission at all, but someone had did their research on the agency and their members, and all it took was a little bit of information about Atsushi’s past to get him out of control.

He had fully turned into the were tiger without ever meaning to do so

“ATSUSHI!” You screamed for him, as you used your combat skills to get onto objects like trash cans, bus stations or even cars. You needed to calm him down before anything would happen to him.

You jumped over the cars, seeing him in the distance as you received a call from none other than kunikida.

“Y/N WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING OVER THERE?” You heard him scream, as you realised this is all being broadcasted, looking up as you saw the news helicopter fly above the two of you. ‘Shit.’ You muttered, as you speed up.

“Someone got sensitive information kunikida, He went out of control and almost killed the guy have they not gotten away since I stopped Atsushi.” You explained, your legs aching while you still speed up after Atsushi, hearing more screaming people of fright.

“SECURE THE AREA FOR ME OKAY THANKS BYE-“ You rushed the call before you heard kunikida scream on the other side.

You ran as fast as your legs could, as your eyes widen, seeing Atsushi about to attack. “ATSUSHI!” You screamed as you came in between the innocent people and the tiger that was about to attack. He couldn’t stop on time, as his claw made contact with your arms, giving it a nasty scratch mark.

You screamed out in pain and held onto your arm, whimpering slightly as you saw the blood and clothes being ripped off your body.

That’s definitely going to leave a nasty scar.

“Run!” You screamed at the innocent people, as they quickly scrammed, leaving you alone with a clearly distressed tiger. “Its okay baby its okay..” You whispered softly, holding your other hand out, treating him like a cat. “Its just me, your safe Atsushi..But you have to get control again.” You put a step forward, as him bumped his nose against your hand, smelling in the scent and his pupils dilated to a normal size again, as you heard whimpers come out of his mouth.

You slowly pet him with your good hand, as you squad down.

“We have to get out of here, can I ride your back?” You asked him as he nodded gently. You hopped onto his back, leaned forward and whispered, ‘Make sure to lose the helicopter first dear”

As you guys moved like the speed of light, going directly towards the Agency.

They immediately stood their ground, as Dazai and Kunikida came to your rescue. You were bleeding quite a lot on the floor as your vision began to blur because of the amount of blood you had lost by the wound that needed treatment this instant.

You heard screaming, Dazai nullifying Atsushi’s ability, Seeing the doctors coat of Yosano flash in front of you, as you slowly fade away out of consciousness.

As everything around you became black pool of darkness.

You woke up, slightly feeling your arm being sore, as you slowly opened your eyes to adjust at the light of the room. You groaned softly, as you felt a weight at the side of your bed. You looked down, seeing a sleeping Atsushi with red puffy eyes, sleep by your side.

A sharp pain in your side snapped you back in reality, as you realised you also had been bandaged by the side of your body. 

“Your lucky it wasn’t something that touched our organs.” A sudden voice spoke as you were eye to eye with Yosano herself. “A shot like that could’ve been nasty if you weren’t here on time.” She stated, something that you nodded your head in agreement on. “He’s been worried about you, He basically cried like a small baby when I told him your state and that you were okay.” Yosano chuckled as you smiled gently, stroking his hair with the hand attached to the bandaged arm.

You heard him groan slightly, as yosano took that as a cue to get out of the room.

He slowly woke up, as you smiled softly at him, your hand on his cheek as you whispered softly. “Hi baby..” You let out a small smile as he started to cry again, His arms and body flopping on top of him. 

“Y/N!!” He sobbed, as you groaned slightly but rubbed his back and kissed his cheek gently. “Right here dear..right here..” You smiled gently, as you cupped his face, making him look at you. “Oh Y/n Im so sorry I shouldn’t have lost control and that was just- he just-“ He stuttered, trying to get his words in the right context.

You kissed him gently, immediately shutting him up. “Its okay its okay trust me it is okay-“ You stated, as he still kept crying. You hugged him close, as you guys slowly calmed down together.

“We’ll train some more sushi, you need the emotions and those powers of yours under control.” You teased him as he kept crying.

“Okay- I love you”

“I love you too”

[diamond-coral]

A Game

Summary: Tony suggests a game that you, the unfortunate intern, get dragged right into the center of: who can make a woman cum the fastest?

Pairings: all dark!: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader, Thor x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader, Tony x Reader, implied natasha x reader

Warnings: DUB-CON/NON-CON (oral: f-receiving, fingering, tiny smidge of analplay) VOYEURISM/EXHIBITIONISM, BLACKMAILING, OVERSTIMULATION. The characters in this story are NOT good people. After reading the warnings, your media consumption is your own responsibility!

As Stark’s party mellowed down and all the guests left, you, the unfortunate intern, were called over to the small group of five Avengers seated in a section of couches.

“Y/n, come!” Thor’s voice boomed.

“Y/n, come!” Sam mimicked, deepening his voice to make fun of Thor’s.

You approached them as the men snickered at Sam’s joke. 

“What can I do for you?” you ask, a fake smile plastered on your face.

Stark cleared his throat and raised a brow at you; a silent command. 

“What can I do for you, sir?” 

“A round of drinks please, and add this to Sir Barnes, Sir Rogers, and I’s drinks.” Thor handed you the flask of his Asgardian liquor and you accepted it, hiding the slight nervous tremble of your hands.

“Of course, sir.”

“Someone’s been learning their manners,” Steve taunted, and it took all your restraint to not snarl at him.

“Easy there, Rogers,” Stark interjected, noticing how your fingers clenched Thor’s flask tighter. “Pretty sure Barnes fucked the brat outta her couple days ago when he came back from that shitshow of mission in Bosnia. Got a lot of pent up rage there, Buck?”

“Mission just put me in a bad mood,” Bucky shrugged. “Either way, I don’t think I fucked all the brat outta her. Got anything left for me, doll?”

“I have nothing for you, you self-righteous, ignorant prick,” you spat venomously.

“There she is. I always love a challenge.” Bucky smirked at how your knuckles were turning white around the flask. “Now didn’t Thor ask you to go fetch us some drinks?”

You huffed, opting to bite your tongue rather than lashing out, and spun on your heel toward the minibar.

Three-months ago, you would never have imagined your internship interview at S.H.I.E.L.D to bring you here. Your interview had been conducted by Captain America himself, and just as things began to look promising, it was interrupted by a sharp knock from Tony Stark. Tony had brought Steve into the hall, leaving the door to the conference room open, and you could only sneak glances through the window of the room, hearing Steve whisper about how it was “a question of morality” while they both kept looking back at you.

You got the position, and the next day, Tony sat you down and gave you an offer.

The Avengers needed to be ‘taken care of’, as he put it, and you being a ‘stress-reliever’ would boost morale around the team. Most of the them never had time for the outside world (apparently saving the world was a big commitment?) and were rarely ever able to make lasting relationships. You could accept the position, be compensated monthy, and get to live in the compound, or you could decline, and walk away with your mouth sealed by the confidentiality contract you signed before the interview.  Something about S.H.I.E.L.D. work being linked to a lot of top secret information, meaning you weren’t allowed to speak any details of the job to outside parties unless you wanted to get sued for every penny you were worth.

You had been on the cusp of taking the second option before Tony mentioned your sister’s job as S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent. She was half the reason you’d interviewed for an internship. A couple words from Tony about her possibly falling into a fatal accident on a mission, and you took the position offer in a heartbeat.

You almost overfilled the glass while getting lost in your train of thought. Setting down the bottle of expensive whiskey, you placed the last glass next to the others on the silver tray, and picked it up, gracefully yet begrudgingly making your way back to the small gathering.

“Y/n, finally. We were just talking about who here can make a woman cum the fastest.”

The complete utter bluntness of Tony’s words caught you entirely off guard, and you tripped over your own feet, stumbling in your high heels to keep the tray of drinks from falling before Sam reached an arm out to catch the tray and another arm to hold your hip and steady you.

You ripped yourself from Sam’s touch without acknowledging or thanking him, to disturbed by Tony’s previous words to do so. You began passing out the glasses of dark liquid. “And you’re telling me this why?” Your voice was flat in hopes of showing Tony you were completely disinterested in any plans he might have.

“Why, we need your aid, Lady Y/n,” Thor answered a little too cheerfully for your taste.

“I won’t be partaking in your little immature competition of toxic masculinity.” You crossed your arms and continued. “It makes it seem that women are nothing but prizes. Games to be played by boys as they fight over the highscore. Toys.”

“Aren’t they?” Steve cocked his head, eyes glimmering with amusement while a smirk painted his face. The rest of the men chuckled at his reply.

“I think HR would be shocked to hear that Captain America is being a sexist dick to a woman in the workplace,” you bit back, but your threat was weak and they all knew it.

“I think HR would be to busy writing a condolence letter to your sisters family if, let’s say, on her mission with Sam tomorrow in Russia, a stray bullet hit her,” Steve replied. A quick reminder at the stakes. 

Sam clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock sympathy. “Those darn Russians and their careless aim.”  

He abruptly pushed himself off the couch and clapped his hands together. “I wanna go first,” he declared.

“Just remember, you can’t use your dick,” Tony added. “Some of us don’t have super soldier serum enhanced fuckwands.”

“Please never, ever say fuckwand again,” Bucky said, scrunching up his nose. “Besides, the hydra serum didn’t do anything down there.” He waggled his eyebrows while elbowing his enhanced counterpart. “Don’t think I could say the same for this punk here though.”

Steve muttered a ‘shut up’ while the group snickered.

All while they compared sizes like a bunch of teenagers, Sam manhandled you onto the coffee table in the center of the couches. You let out a grunt as you were shoved onto your front, stomach pressed into the tabletop while your pelvis was slammed into the edge.

Sam kneeled behind you and brought up two fingers to your mouth.

“Get ‘em nice and wet for me, baby.”

The men around you went quiet, entranced as you reluctantly took Sam’s fingers into your mouth, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them.

When Sam finally pulled them out, he looked back at Tony.

“You ready?” Sam asked.

Sam hiked the flowy skirt of your dress up your legs causing you to squirm and pathetically thrash; a desperate attempt at putting an abrupt stop to this stupid game.

“You’re on the clock.”

At Tony’s words, Sam immediately stopped your desperate attempt at worming away from him by catching you by the back of your neck and slamming you back down hard on the coffee table. Much to your disdain, the rough treatment made you wet, and that was the last thing you wanted them to see.

But when Sam pulled your lacy panties down, you could tell it was the first thing he noticed.

“Fuck babygirl, I didn’t need you lubing up my fingers, you’re already drenched,” he noted.

You let out a soft moan as Sam worked two calloused fingers into your pussy. Although they’re thick and long, they were nowhere near the size of his dick and you silently thanked whatever was out there that he wasn’t splitting you in half with it at the moment. Sam released the grip on your neck, moving to settle the hand on your ass before giving it a light squeeze and a slap that elicited another moan from you. While Sam slowly began moving his fingers- twisting, curling, and pumping them- he leaned over you, caging your body under his broad chest, to speak dirty words into your ear.

“Baby, you’re so wet right now, I think you like having them watch you.” Your cheeks burned in shame while he picked up the pace. “You want them to see how well-behaved you are for me? Want them to see how you come on my hand like a good little slut?” he cooed.

Slow pumps now turned to quick thrusts from his skilled fingers and Sam groaned as you fluttered around him.

“That’s it. You’re taking me perfectly.”

Twisting his wrist so his thumb could also strum your clit, Sam was moving so fast you’d easily mistake him for a superhuman.

“Yes, Sam, please,” you cried out, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Uh-uh, babygirl. Wrong word,” he scolded, although his pace never slowed as his fingers brutally fucked into you.

“Daddy!” you screamed. “I’m cumming!”

You chanted those words, cunt clamping down on his merciless fingers. He gave you no reprieve, mercilessly thrusting into you, until you squirted, your release coating his hand and dripping down his forearm. Only when you were almost crying, did he finally remove his hand from your abused cunt.

“Now that-,” Sam stated, grinning while he stood. “-is how you make a girl come.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever Birdbrain.” You don’t have any strength to look at Tony as he speaks. “Give her a couple minutes before whoever’s next.”

Whatever the conversation was between them (you couldn’t hear it over the buzzing in your brain), it was much too short to your liking. The few minutes Tony gave you only felt like a few seconds before Bucky was getting up.

“Guess I’ll take a crack at it,” he announced, rolling his head from side to side.

“No one says “take a crack at it” anymore, old man.”

“Keep talking when your in last place, Sam,” Bucky quipped, however, his tone was still light.

You felt a metal hand on your hip before you were rolled over onto your back, now facing Bucky while your eyes pleaded with him.

“Please dont,” you croaked.

Bucky just scoffed, kneeling down between your legs and wrapping both arms around your thighs as he pulled you closer.

“Tony?” His hot breath fanned your pussy as he spoke and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Stark said.

Bucky wasted no time the moment the words left Tony’s mouth. He started by licking up from your hole to clit over and over, the lazy stripes already driving you wild. Letting go of one of your thighs to bring his flesh hand to your pussy, he pulled the hood of your clit back, pausing his licking to blow on your engorged bud.

“Such a pretty pussy, doll,” he murmured before turning his head around and speaking louder. “You guys seeing this?” 

He moved his head out of the way to showcase your glistening folds. A couple groans from the men on the couches had you trying to close your legs, but Bucky’s grip was like steel (especially considering his hand was metal).

“Wasting time Buck,” Steve commented and Bucky just rolled his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I can still beat Sam and have time left over,” he scoffed.

Bucky directed his attention back to your folds, this time, diving in right away. He still had the hood of your clit pulled back as he encased the bud with his lips causing you to writhe at the intense sensation. And yet, you were held down with practically no effort as he methodically played with you. Each time he groaned against you, you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, and by the time he started sucking on your clit, you were wrecked. Your hand found home in his brown locks of hair while he quickly moved his tongue back and forward on your sensitive nub that was trapped in the vacuum of his mouth. The coil inside you wound tighter and tighter, and suddenly, while Bucky began shaking his head from side to side, it snapped. Your clit pulsed rapidly while encased in his hot mouth, and you screamed, legs locking around his head while your hand held his head in place. He worked you while you rode out your orgasm on his face until you could barely move.

Bucky got up from his knees, grinning down at you, so weak, you couldn’t muster it in you to glare back.

“Now I think I really fucked the brat out of you,” he said. “What was that?” He cupped his ear. “Did I hear a thank you sir?”

“Thank you, sir,” you whimpered weakly.

You were so fucked out, all the next events were but a blur.

Thor had feasted between your thighs the same as Bucky but was more sloppy, although, your body seemed to love ‘sloppy’. His tongue was constantly lashing and worming around your clit, the wet muscle accompanied by lewd slurping sounds, and in record time, Thor’s suckling and licking had you tensing and building up so much that your orgasm felt like a waterfall crashing over your body.

Steve was just as methodical and precise as Bucky, also pumping his fingers slowly in and out of your pussy. He was sweetly slow, dragging out your pleasure to the point where you were begging him to come. His warm tongue dragged across your sensitive cunt, while another hand reached up to grab a breast and pinch a nipple. You felt like your body was on fire. It wasn’t until Steve had inserted a thumb into your ass that he finally allowed your body sweet sweet release.

Your head span as finally collapsing on Tony’s floor, listening to the muffled voices above you.

You didn’t even register Stark’s words as he announced Thor had won and Steve had come in last. You barely even heard Steve’s defense that he was just enjoying himself too much in the moment.

Although ten-minutes later you had a somewhat sense of clarity, after hearing their conversation, you wished you were just unconscious. Even better, dead.

“I’m tellin’ you man, I made her squirt. She definitely came the hardest with me.” Sam’s voice rang.

“Dude- she was literally grinding against my face and holding me in a headlock with her legs,” Bucky argued.

“I literally made the brat beg to cum,” Steve inserted.

“I’d say that by bringing her to release the fastest, it was most intense with me,” Thor declared, victoriously.

You were on the brink of tears as they talked about you. Until another voice cut into the room. A female voice.

“What do you boys think you’re doing?”

It was Natasha. Your head jolted up as you felt a glimmer of hope surge through you.

That glimmer of hope was quickly extinguished at her next words.

“Not inviting me to the boy’s party?” she scolded. “You think a girl might beat you by a landslide?”

Nat squatted down next to you, running a soft hand on your cheek.

“Well you’re right. I’ll beat Thor’s record and cut it in half.”

She began unbuttoning her pants.

“And I’ll do it while riding her face.”

[prettyboykatsuki]

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

shoujo manga | k. bakugo 

➳ tags ;; fluff, angst/injury, very midly nsfw towards the end, kisses (?), pro-hero!bakugo 

➳ wc ;; 1.5k

➳ plot ;; how bakugo kisses you differently. 

➳ a/n ;; might do this for other characters? idk.. katsuki brainrot haunts me everyday of my life.. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

Bakugou speaks more than one language. 

Japanese, English, Spanish, and a little bit of Arabic and French. He’s fluent in the first three and conversational in the last - but the words still feel slick on his tongue. He’s the type of person that knows things well, when he can. He can curl around the syllables easily with enough patience - practice and time. A language is tool - or a love letter or a hopeless romantic. 

It’s something we never tire of listening too. 

For Bakugo Katsuki, the language he speaks to you in is kisses. It’s the one he feels best at, rolls of the tongue and mouth easiest. He’s well-versed in the foreign tongue of affection. It used to be.. choppy to say the least. But these days, Bakugo can tell you anything with nothing more than a few pressed lips and tongue-tied exchanges. 

It starts with a morning kiss. For it to be perfect, the sun has to hang just barely beneath the clouds. It can be any color out, blue, or orange, or grey - the sky just has to have light in it. He wakes up with a grunt, always before you - vermillion eyes peering open at your unconscious state. The verbs in his sentence are his hands, large palms that smooth down your hair. He nudges his nose against your jaw before his lips pucker against your cheek - travel down to your mouth until your eyes flutter open. 

“Wake up, brat,” with another kiss, this time on the corners of your lips. He waits for a while, sometimes letting you sleep for another ten minutes before his heart decides he’s running on empty time. Then he kisses you again, along your jaw like he’s tracing the lines of your art-work. 

“Oh? G’morning, Kat,” 

And he presses his cheek against your shoulder, kisses the edge with another grunt. These kisses always mean good morning, I’m happy we woke up together. In his language of love they mean, I like being here with you. 

Some kisses come after work - especially on those days where he’s working and you’re not. Bakugo dreads leaving you alone during the day, has to force himself out of bed and into his work clothes. It’s easier to be gone but always so hard to leave. When he comes home from work, he finds you in the living room with your legs propped up on the ottoman. Your laptop is on your lap and your head rests 

You can feel his presence before you see him. A warm hand, calloused and a hot, wraps around your throat and pulls you back to look upwards at him. He looks down at you with something unreadable in his expression - his thumb running against the column of your throat. He can feel your pulse under his fingers when he looks down on you - bows his head to kiss like an act of respect. This kiss is slow but deep - like a large wave crashing against the sand. His gravelly voice leaves you with a hum before he pulls away. 

This kiss means he’s missed you much more than you know. That’s why he stares at you for so long right after - why his fingers linger against your neck. 

“Whaddya want for dinner, huh?, is the only words he’ll say in the whole exchange but he looks like he’s gonna kiss you again. He wants to kiss you so many more times but he knows you’ve forgotten to eat so he just asks you what you want. He’ll make it for you. 

Other times, he kisses you in public. They’re not the kinds of kisses you can predict, you have to admit to yourself. It’s thee Dynamight afterall, and he rarely takes you anywhere the paparazzi can see. But you have to do normal things together sometimes - like grocery shopping. Even so, he always keeps his mask on up under his eyes, his sunglasses and army green hat and baggy clothes all covering him up.

But you mention it to him off-hand while you’re looking at salad dressing that you miss looking at his face when you’re out. A wistful, cheeky smiling on your lips as you tell him that you don’t mind if the world knows who you’re with. He scoffs, like always, and tells you to pick the spicy one for him. 

When he takes you outside, the sun falls over your skin like a halo. He’s sure there’s someone trailing him and watching from afar - some obsessed photographer examining his every move. Yet you look like gold, look like magic in the middle of this parking lot - packing groceries into the trunk of your car. 

He pulls his mask down just below his face, and takes his glasses off and pulls you toward him when the last of it’s over. Your hip bumps the shopping cart clumsily as his hands finds themselves under your jacket. His mouth melts against yours - this kind of kiss is searing against your lips Your hands are gripping the front of his shirt at first, but then they lay flat against his chest. It’s the kind of kiss where you let it happen, let it overwhelm your senses till your stomach turns. 

You leave it in a dazed and return to see him smirk, grin cocked like a pistol. He kisses you again, much softer as confusion dances along your face. 

“What? I thought you missed my face?” 

This kind of kiss is a reminder that your his and he’s yours. Nothing in the whole world could come between that, not even some shitty gossip column. When you laugh against him breathlessly, his expression melts into the most tender smile. You miss it - too busy laughing, but it might be better that way.  

Then, there are kisses that are desperate. Not sinful but somber. When you’re rushing to a hospital in the middle of September with a prayer clamped desperately between your tongue and teeth. You don’t really feel like you know yourself anymore, hands clasped around the steering wheel like religion. Your feet are the weight of crucifixion on the gas and it seems like you cannot go fast enough. 

You rush and rush and rush until the air in your lungs feels like it’s stomping at your chest. You wind up in a sterile white room, and he’s there. He’s alive and you know you should be grateful for that. Yet there’s a gash on his cheek and eyebrow, a wound in his side that makes everything in your knees feel weak. You don’t walk towards him, but stumble to where he’s sitting. 

“I fuckin’ hate hospital food,” 

He pushes the peas around the tray and you’re crying - shaking like a leaf in the wind as you cling to him. He lifts his arm and let’s you in. You sniffle against his shoulder and cry like a baby. You weep for the love you haven’t lost. You hear the plastic clink on the plate as he lifts his hand, brushes any stray hairs from your face. He tugs on your ear and makes him look at you, and kisses you. 

This kind of kiss is placating for certain. A warm mouth, not a hot one. His lips are so gentle, touch effervescent. When you hiccup a sob in his mouth, he nudges his forehead against yours and mumbles something incomprehensible.

You can hear his kiss before he speaks it.  

“I’m fine, dumbass,” but there’s no bite, no malice - just a hand wrapped in yours “I’m gonna be fine,” 

There are also times where he kisses you hotly. It’s the kind of kiss you wouldn’t want your children to see. When he comes home from a long day of training but the energy is still burning in his head. He’s sweaty, skin glistening and glazed. His teeth seem so sharp when he enters the threshold of the door. You can feel him pressed against your spine, the thick print in his basketball shorts. When his hands come up underneath your t-shirt and dance along your stomach. These times - he kisses you twice. Salacious and unrelenting. 

Once just like that in the kitchen. It’s all too much tongue and teeth that way - but god it feels so right. Makes you squirm, makes you hold the counter top to keep steady. You tremble before he even touches you. 

The second time is right in the middle of the fire, when he’s inside. Slow, sensual and needy - his tongue finding it’s way in your mouth like you’re a fountain. 

Both kisses speak the same words, the same desperation. It’s always the same with him, the inevitable scorching that bruises your lips and turns them red and swollen. 

“I want you. I want you. Give it to me, Give all of yourself to me” 

His kisses so harshly you can’t breathe, like even the breath in your lungs has to be his or he won’t stay still. These kinds of kisses always happen when you two touch. He can’t help but keep you all to himself. 

After all, in this language that only you two can speak, who else would he tell his secrets to?

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

[yoongsisbae]

Bon Voyage: Into the Sea - Chapter 3

BTS fantasy AU. OT7 x reader. werewolf!Namjoon x werewolf!Hoseok x werewolf!Jungkook x siren!Yoongi x vampire!Jimin x vampire!Jin x whatis?Taehyung. This is the "vampire chapter" :'D

Thank you for all the love on this random nightmarish story lol. This extra update is for all the readers who made it my most popular post! Thank you! <3 Also this is my contribution to the start of the spooky season :D

Warnings: Hi, remember when I said this was horror? This chapter in particular is pretty horrific, you have been warned! blood, fighting between m/w, blood, graphic violence, blood, imprisonment, blood, blood, blood, minor character death, vampires doing vampire things including noncon blood drinking, human imprisonment, mind manipulation, stockholm syndrome, dubious consent, slut shaming, anal, degradation, foursome, orgasm control, orgasm denial, what a ride, you must be over 18 to ride this ride, scary scary scary

Word Count: 22k

---

“Scared, y/n?” Jimin’s face sends you a wicked smile.

You look back and forth between the men, uttering an unconvincing “No.”

Seokjin speaks again, “You should be.”

---

‘So did you get the answers you are looking for?’ You sit up, jolted out of your sleep, Hoseok’s words echoed softly in your mind.

Seokjin moved so fast, his striking face in front of you in an instant, his red eyes centimeters from yours, delicate lips curving into a smile over his fangs as water splayed around where he stood. That was the last thing you remember.

He smiled down at you sweetly and held you by the neck, putting pressure on your vein until you passed out. It all happened so fast your scream remained halted until this moment. The response came out of you abruptly, as fleeting as the memory.

And now where the hell were you? It looked like the room of an old bed and breakfast; large bed, writing desk, love seat, high windows; but to your captors the breakfast on the menu was you.

The first thing you notice is how the curtains are drawn together blocking the sunlight, but you know it’s there, just out of reach, as evidenced by the small line of light that trails its top edge. The room you found yourself in was dark, from the wallpaper to the furniture, the stillness unsettling, you listened as your own rapid breathing filled the silence.

You were seated right in the middle of a king size bed. They left you atop the cleanly-made white bed sheets, a treat placed in the center of a platter. You shiver, your clothes still remained damp from the night before, cold and stuck to your skin. That is why you shiver, you tell yourself, because you don’t hear them, but you feel them...watching you...

You build up enough courage to scan the room, and that’s when you see two pairs of red orbs staring back at you from the corners’ shadows, glowing in the darkness. Eyes of beasts, watching you, studying you.

You try not to react, not show your captors how scared you are, but every mechanism in your body betrays you, and the pair immediately pick up on your rapidly beating heart, the sweat on your brows, your unsteady breathing-

“Good morning, y/n,” Seokjin says, walking out of the shadows. Jimin stays hidden, but you can hear his soft laughter.

Those answers you wanted, where are they?

Seokjin slowly moves to the edge of the bed. “It seems like our friends have taken quite an interest with you and I want to find out why. Is that okay?”

You purse your lips, keeping your eyes trained on the thin strip of light showing at the top of the window curtains. You sit in silence. Has your breathing always been this loud? The shaking of Seokjin’s legs, a sign of his growing impatience, rattles the bed and your resolve.

He clasps his hands together, finally saying “If you don’t want to speak to me,” he leans in slightly and whispers the rest, “I can always let Jimin pry information out of you, but I don’t think you’d appreciate that very much.”

The pounding of your heart and the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach makes you feel like you’re going to become sick at any minute, but you manage to form a coherent sentence to ask him, “What do you want to know?”

“First, I want your permission to find out,” he speaks softly, placing a gentle hand on your calf, but you flinch away anyways. That’s a loaded question if you ever heard one. You wonder if it’s all an act, the same way Jimin fooled you. You stay silent.

Seokjin sighs again, looking over his shoulder, “Jimin?”

“No!” you yell. “Not Jimin! You...you, okay I give you permission.”

“Thank you, y/n.” He smiles, “I’ll be gentle.”

You yelp. Seokjin’s cold hand travels down your leg, wraps around your ankle and pulls you down the bed closer to his body, and in an instant his lean frame is hovering over yours. This close, his beauty is intimidating alone, but his eyes feel like they are piercing through you, digging inside, seeing all the ugly secrets you try to hide from even yourself, you feel like you could catch fire the way his gaze burns you.

He holds you down loosely by the neck, fingers searching for a pulsing vein, eyes focused on you with the concentration of a doctor performing surgery. Seokjin wipes away the tears that begin spilling from your eyes and smirks, “Don’t cry Dove, I promise this time will be the least pain you’ll experience from now on.” His words are devoid of any real sympathy, a false comfort, a looming warning.

You consider fighting back, but in this position there is no way you would be able to reach for your dagger (hidden away in a secret pocket in the front of your corset) without Seokjin stopping you, and even if you were lucky enough, there’s still Jimin, waiting in the shadows.

So you choose to wait, and try to find comfort in Seokjin’s twisted words. It could be worse. A tiny voice inside you reminds you it will become worse. You’ll just have to escape before then. You take a deep steadying breath, preparing yourself.

Don’t cry.

Seokjin’s lips latch onto your neck, soft and full as he rolls his tongue harshly over your pulse point. Goosebumps bloom across your body, and you try to focus on the sunlight rather than the vampire above you and his overwhelming aura, that sliver of light that you pray won’t dim.

This could be worse. This could be more painful. This could be Jimin.

Seokjin can feel the jumping of your pulse against his tongue. The vampire wants to know your story, what is it about you that riled Jimin up more than he’s ever seen him. But with your sweet scent enveloping him and the cocktail of emotions Seokjin’s keen senses could smell: fear and anger and mounting arousal, you smelled better to him than the finest wine and he can’t stop himself from teasing you a little longer, drink it in just a bit more and savor the moment.

Seokjin still understood the importance of ‘living’ in the present, he enjoyed taking his time with things. Others would have gone mad by now with the infinite amount of time, but not Seokjin, he used it to his advantage. Your warm body, your addicting smell, the softness and saltiness of your skin, the shifts in your breathing, Seokjin took his time to savor the gifts of life that he still missed.

You try not to react to his sensual touches, tensing your body under him, until you feel two sharp pricks on the surface of your skin. Your reaction is involuntary, you grip the bedsheets with your fists and let out a soft cry, moving against him. His bite hurt for only a second, like a pin prick, but Seokjin in his precision had nicked an artery for optimum bloodshed. With each gasp of breath you take, with each pounding beat of your heart, you feel your blood drain as it escapes the punctures in your neck and into Seokjin’s waiting mouth.

Seokjin groans against your skin, sending fire through your veins, pressing himself harder into your body. The vampire is better at keeping his physical responses to blood drinking at bay than Jimin, but he hasn’t had a new taste in awhile, and you’re so responsive.

When he pulls away from you you reach to cover your neck and stop the blood, a reflex in an attempt to save your own life, but Seokjin grabs your wrists before you can, pinning you to the bed, studying, his red gaze challenging you.

You gasp as the blood rushes out down your neck, over the sheets, seeping into your clothes. ‘They’ll underestimate you...’ Yoongi’s words replay in your mind and you stay still. No matter how much you want to fight back, this time you have to be smarter, you have to believe in Yoongi’s words.

Jimin has stayed quiet for this long, staying in the shadows, but your whimpers and grunts of pain are music to Jimin’s ears, the blood pouring from your body like an offering to him. His groans can be heard from the shadows.

He holds himself back for now, waiting for his turn. Jimin wonders where all that fight went, he had expected a show, for you to thrash away from the older vampire like you did the merman. He can’t help but feel a little disappointed. When it’s his turn, he thinks, you’ll become more entertaining then.

You watched in silence as Seokjin licked his lips clean of your blood. The red liquid that he had stolen from you, that was now steadily seeping from your wound and covering the white bedsheets underneath you, like a Rorschach picture mapping your life. “You’re strong,” he grins, speaking too tenderly for the brutality he was inflicting. “Stop fighting and it will end sooner, y/n. Let me into your mind.”

What does that even mean?! In your blood loss the tips of your fingers begin to feel cold like your captor’s, your head pounds and your vision blurs with each passing moment as the blood drains from your artery, you don’t want to give in, but if it will end this torture...

You shut your eyes tightly, and turn your head to expose your bleeding neck further to the monster above you. When Seokjin lowers his lips to your neck, you try to think of sweet Jungkook instead, his warm body instead of Seokjin’s cold one. You didn’t dare wish to be with him again, you didn’t dare think you made a mistake, that you should have stayed. Now all you can do is hope you can save him and yourself from this horrible island. Jungkook doesn’t deserve to be imprisoned with the likes of them.

Seokjin drinks the warm liquid pouring from your throat. You listen to him gulping down your blood, How much longer, until he finds what he’s looking for? You feel your fight escape you with each swallow, you feel yourself slipping away. It reminds you of drowning, it reminds you of Yoongi and how he kissed life into you instead, but this was the kiss of death.

‘Yoongi,’ you close your eyes and think of him. And then you felt it, the pull inside your mind. Your current circumstance falls away in shambles, your memories are pulled out of you through the cracks, the images race through your mind as Seokjin bears witness to it all.

---

Yoongi sits at the table, hair and clothes dry, turning his head to see you awake.

The relief that softens his features as he’s walking to your side.

The delicate way he places the hairpiece back in its place.

The way his eyes melt at your words.

Why hadn’t you seen it before? Seokjin saw it all. The way Yoongi screams at you, the rage and embarrassment in his eyes as he tells you how much he can’t stand you, the way he licks his lips when you yell back. His eyes studying you when you yank him closer, full of anger and full of-

You weakly push against Seokjin, you don’t want to remember, you don’t want to miss him. You can’t stop it, you can’t stop the memories flooding through your system.

You suddenly remember Jungkook’s sparkling round eyes watching you, wanting you, the crinkle of his nose when he laughs, the pink flush on the edges of his ears when you talk to him, the muscles of his arms flexing as he cages you under him, his deep groaning in your ear, the vein in his neck when he pushes into your wet heat, the truth in his voice when he says he’ll protect you.

You feel Seokjin’s hands travel down your body the same way you remembered Jungkook. You curse him in your mind, but your body couldn’t tell the difference, your stomach tightens and you’re no longer cold, warmth spreads over you to the tips of your toes.

You want to scream, scream for Jungkook, but you’re frozen, lost in your own thoughts, confused by your senses. Jungkook feels as real as Seokjin, but you know he’s not really there, no matter how much you wanted it to be true.

You remember Hoseok’s harsh looks, the growing anger in his eyes, the hurt in his eyes, the pain in his eyes, the pain still present in his eyes even in his wolf form when he howls and cries at you. He’s begging you to stay, he’s telling you he can’t bear to lose someone again. How could you leave them? Why can’t they be enough for you? Hoseok will treat you better, if you just stay with him, please. You understand his barks and howls now, because Seokjin understands. Tears well up in your eyes and you try to move away, but Seokjin is too solid, too powerful, and unyielding in his search.

Namjoon’s eyes are on you as you eat next to his brothers at dinner, filled with nothing but warmth and happiness. Those brown eyes, you miss them. You feel dizzy and helpless, you can’t take it anymore. You grab a fistful of Seokjin’s hair to try to pull him off of you.

“What have you done to Jimin? What have you done?!” Namjoon’s voice roars in your memory. But it’s not any memory you remember having. Before you realize what you are doing, your hands hold on tightly to Seokjin’s hair, pulling him closer and holding him to you so you can see more.

---

“It-It wasn’t me...” The tall vampire is covered in blood. Some of it is Jimin’s blood, yes, but the majority of blood that drips down his face and hands, that covers his clothes, belongs to five other men. Dead men. Men who beat the broken man in his arms to the brink of death.

Seokjin found his dear friend screaming in pain. He saw them over Jimin’s bleeding body, blood Seokjin treasured just as much as he treasured his bond with the compassionate and playful man. His friend, Jimin, who wailed for Seokin, for Namjoon, for Hoseok, for Taehyung, for anyone to help him, while his bones cracked, lying in the dirt, choking on his own blood, precious blood.

Seokjin explained to Namjoon when he saw them laughing, like hyenas over a carcass, spitting hateful slurs down at Jimin, he couldn’t control himself. Seokjin tore them apart one by one. He chased each one down like the pathetic animals they were, and tore the limbs that touched his dear friend straight from their bodies.

Seokjin had been weak, he had become too accustomed to the harmonious life he and Namjoon had created for themselves. Had it been decades before, he would have endured, but living with the pack had softened him too much and he couldn’t stand the pain of losing Jimin, so when he found a weak pulse he gave Jimin as much of his venomous blood as he could.

Namjoon simply nods at the information, his weary eyes examining his two friends, friends who were like family to him. He didn’t want to lose Jimin either. “We need to take him somewhere safe...to the island, before he wakes up,” Namjoon places a hand on the trembling vampire’s shoulder.

“What if he doesn’t wake up?” the vampire’s voice shakes, he notices the cuts on Jimin’s face and body have yet to heal themselves.

“That’s not something you should be worried about,” Namjoon runs his hand through Jimin’s tangled hair, gently placing the dark strands back into place, his eyes filling with tears, “it’s when he wakes up, we need to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

Seokjin nods weakly.

“Go now. I’ll clean up the mess, brother.”

Your hands fall, the blood loss making you too weak to grip onto Seokjin’s hair. Seokjin had taken more blood than he intended, lost in his own memories.

The vampire pulls away from you, even as the edges of your vision blurs, you see his eyes, glowing red and glassy with unshed tears, staring at you with a mixture of pain and surprise. He shakes away his bewilderment and rips into the flesh of his wrist, placing the cut across your lips as you can no longer hold consciousness.

---

When you wake again it’s night time, the light behind the curtains has left you.

Your body aches. You run your fingers along your neck, searching for the punctures, and you can only feel smooth skin crusted in dried blood. Your head feels like it’s splitting. You groan in pain.

You see Jimin before you hear him, and even then you’re not sure if your brain created the sounds to ease your mind as he stalks closer to your waking form.

“Finally! Now what could you have possibly done to Jin?” Jimin says, contemplating the reason his friend holed himself up in his office, refusing to speak to Jimin or even look at him.

He jumps on the bed, shaking your already pounding head. “He refuses to let me bite you,” he whines, “Explain now, pet.” Jimin prods you with his foot. “Explain what memory of yours Seokjin pulled.”

You just groan back, turning away from Jimin, burying your head into the cold pillows of your bed, one of the few things not soaked in your blood. Everything is so cold you can’t stand it. Jimin places a hand on your shoulder to make you face him. Cold fingers touch your skin, everything is cold.

“Don’t touch me!” you pull away from him, yelling.

Your face stings. Jimin had slapped you hard, you come to the realization only after the fact, the skin he touched burns hot. It makes you laugh, because you wanted warmth, didn’t you?

Jimin’s eyes narrow on you, “Say that again, I dare you.”

You bite back tears and ask, “What the fuck happened to you?!”

“So you’re back to being a disrespectful brat. You’re not on the same level as me, human. Learn to behave.”

“No! What happened to you to make you so heartless? What changed you?” How did the bleeding man you saw Namjoon cry over in Seokjin’s memories become this monster? He was human at one point too, you wouldn’t have believed it if you didn’t see it for yourself.

Jimin rolls his eyes, “Don’t act like you know anything about me, bitch.”

You take a deep breath trying to calm your temper. Not only had you seen Seokjin’s memories, you had felt his emotions. His pain lingers in you still, beside the fear and hatred you feel, you look at Jimin and feel...sorry for him. You have to look down, the emotions are too much and too overwhelming. It was easier when all you knew was the monster before you. Jimin takes your silence as obedience instead.

“Now can you be a good little pet and answer my question,” he says, tapping you on the head hard enough to make your headache roar back to life. You flinch and search the eyes of the man before you. Or rather the shell of a man, you think bitterly.

And what a beautiful shell it is. Jimin is stunning, bright white hair pulled away and styled so you can see the delicate features of his face. He holds himself gracefully, like a dancer, his elegant figure hiding his true strength. You wonder what he was like before turning into a monster, what kind of man was he? Someone whom Namjoon cared for.

“It wasn’t my memory...you. I saw you…” You whisper, knowing Jimin’s sharp senses can hear you loud and clear, “I saw Seokjin turn you.” Silence falls over the room again, a silence so deafening you start to hear the pounding in your head becoming louder.

The vampire stares at you, soft features stoic. He looked lost in thought, you pictured his face full of cuts, bloody lip, black eye, human, and Seokjin so unsure, scared, worried, trembling, so unlike themselves now.

“How did he turn me?” It surprised you how genuine Jimin’s question sounded. Did he really not know?

You keep your mouth shut, you don’t think it would be wise on your part to tell him. Jimin seems like the type to shoot the messenger. Unfortunately, unlike Seokjin, Jimin had little to no patience. His expression changes like lightning, full of anger. He pulls you by the hair dragging you off the bed and onto the floor.

The vampire crouches over you and grabs your face, holding you down to the wood floor, pressing his sharp nails into the skin of your cheeks making you yell.

“Ahh there’s your voice! Tell me.”

“Why don’t you ask Seokjin?!”

“But I rather you just do as I say,” he says playfully, as his fingers dig harder into your skin, cutting the flesh and drawing blood.

“Why don’t you just bite me, then?!” You spit the words out through clenched teeth.

You watch the vampire lick his lower bottom lip, thinking it over briefly as he pulls your face closer to his, you struggle against his painful grip. “How impetuous...” he watches you squirm like an insect stuck in glue. “You’re rather dumb, aren’t you?”

Should you reach for your dagger now? Should you try to kill Jimin?

Every time you thought about hurting him, you remembered Seokjin’s crying face, and you wanted to cry as well, what was happening to you?

“Jimin, leave us.” Jin stands in the doorway to your room.

Jimin stands up in a huff, letting you go. You fall back onto the hardwood floor. He balances on his heels, ignoring you and scrutinizing Seokjin. He wanted to question the older vampire, he has so many questions now, but decides against it. What does it matter anyways? The idea of being a weak and powerless human revolts him. “I’m getting impatient,” he says before he leaves, slamming the door and making you jump.

“T-thank y-you.” You try to calm your breathing.

Seokjin looks at you with a frown, extending his hand out to you. You hesitate and place your hand in his and he easily lifts you to your feet. You watch the older vampire walk slowly around the room, drawing his fingers along the furniture he passes. You stand awkwardly, you don’t think making a run for it would gain you any favors right now.

“I’m hungry,” Seokjin says. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it, continuing to meander around the room, waiting for your response.

You clench your jaw. So this is what you’ve been reduced to, you think, a late night snack. “Are you going to just keep me trapped in this room? I’m hungry too, I haven’t eaten anything-”

“Dinner's already passed. Before I let you go roaming around, I need to make sure you’re going to behave yourself, do you understand?”

No, you don’t understand at all. It sounds like he’s going to starve you into subservience, and you have to get out of this room, you have to find the portal.

“I will do as you say...please...” you walk over to where he’s standing, trying your best to seem meek. “I’m starving,” you reason, “I’m sure you know how it feels to hunger for something” you say, turning your head to stare at the windows, curtains now open to the night sky, extending your neck to the vampire. His eyes are pulled to your attention, following the lines of your shoulder. You roll your neck, loosening the stiff muscles, moving close enough to him that your chest bumps into his. You look up into Seokjin’s eyes through your lashes, “I-I will behave.”

Seokjin smiles, bringing his head down into the curve of your neck, lips skirting across the skin. Your fingers reach up to caress the back of his head. You can see the pair of you in the bedroom mirror. Another myth proven wrong, you think, as you study your seduction, how his lean frame bends closer to yours, his arms wrapping around the lower part of your back.

In truth, Seokjin wasn’t hungry. He had taken more than enough blood from you this morning already, but Seokjin wanted to see if lightning could strike twice. Never had the pull been so strong for him that a human had been able to enter his memories, not even when Jimin was alive. He needed to learn more.

Seokjin licks your face, tongue tracing the cuts Jimin’s nails left behind. You hold your breath, trying to act like you enjoyed it. You hated it, you wished you could stick Yoongi’s dagger into Seokjin’s cold dead heart and be done with it already.

Seokjin trails kisses back to the place he bit you before. He keeps kissing your sensitive skin until his lips reach your ear and he whispers, “I’m not Jungkook, little Dove, you’ll have to do better than that.”

You stumble backwards but it’s too late, Seokjin already has you in his clutches.

He pulls you into a tight embrace, walking you backward even more. His bite is precise, you suspect perfectly precise to where he bit you this morning. Your arms are locked tightly in between your bodies as he holds you to him.

Thunder roars in your memory, you feel yourself drowning. Your muscles ached, your lungs burned. You feel Yoongi’s hand on your ankle, pulling down, hand on your waist, pulling down, hand on your neck, pulling you closer, his lips on your lips-

You cry and yell against Seokjin’s grasp. Cold turns to warmth as you see Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok laughing around the firepit, and Seokjin, and Jimin, laughing too. Yoongi sits with a calm expression on his face, his lips curved upward, and a man you don’t recognize sits next to him-

Seokjin yanks his mouth away from you and you fall backward, back hitting the bed while you struggle to breath. You cover the holes on your neck with your palm to stop the rushing blood.

“How?” is all Seokjin can say, shaken by the happy memory that even he had forgotten about.

You stare up at the high ceiling dazed and too weak to move, “Do I...” you can feel the blood spill between the gaps of your fingers, “look...” you gasp, “like a vampire expert...to you?”

Seokjin moves to the window, his back to you. He watches the waning moon and lets his mind wander to his old friends. If they were off the island, he could see a scenario where you and he would meet at a bar, laugh over drinks, but the ending would always be the same. “You look,” he looks over his shoulder at you, “like you could use a drink,” his lips curving into a half smile.

“Are you,” you gasp, “offering?”

He walks over to you slowly, bringing his wrist to his mouth, and then extends the sliced skin to your mouth, waiting expectantly.

You take his offering bitterly, gulping down the metallic liquid, the wounds burn like fire as they heal over. The pain is nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. You shut your eyes tightly, you want to cry, or scream, but like Namjoon said, no one can help you here. You feel fingers intertwine with your bloody fingers, pulling your bloodied hand away as you weakly protest. The room spins, even if your wounds are healed, your blood is still gone and you’re feeling the effects of two feedings.

Seokjin brings your hand to his lips and licks away the blood, tongue circling your fingers. “This can hurt or it can feel good,” he says slowly.

You laugh, delirious from hunger and blood loss. “I wonder, that memory,” you gasp, still laughing, “does it bother you to be reminded of your humanity? Does it hurt you?”

You probably shouldn’t have said that, but the blood loss is doing funny things to you, or maybe you just really wanted to get a reaction from the guarded man, no, guarded vampire.

If your accusation angered Seokjin he didn’t show it with any emotion, instead he sighed and bent over you, biting down hard on your shoulder. The searing pain makes you scream. You cry out, not expecting the sharp and throbbing kind of ache from his bite as Seokjin’s teeth stayed deep in your flesh.

Seokjin pulls another memory out of you, and you curse your luck in remembering Jungkook again, remembering his tanned and muscled body next to yours. Jungkook kissing your knuckles and telling you how he’s yours now. Jungkook kissing down your body. His head between your legs, his mouth feverishly licking at your folds. The more you try not to think about him the stronger the memories feel. The pain in your shoulder dulls as your legs tighten around the vampire's sides.

Perhaps it was your bloodloss mixed with Seokjin’s bloodlust seeping into your consciousness, the memory of Jungkook’s length buried deep inside you and feeling of Seokjin’s growing bulge pressed against your stomach makes your head spin and you just want to feel more. You hear Namjoon’s deep authoritative voice whispering dirty things in your ear, it makes you shudder, a moan escapes your throat-

Seokjin pulls away from you abruptly at that, his eyes are deep red, so dark they look black. He watches as your body twitch in pain, as he focuses on calming the storm of human emotions, your emotions, running through him, as he tries to forget the compromising memory of his old friend. He bites down on his bottom lip until he draws blood, his blood mixing with your own blood in his mouth, and he presses his lips on yours.

You realized how passionate Yoongi’s kisses were compared to Seokjin’s. The merman was distant, but his actions were full of feeling, whether they be good or bad. Seokjin was cold in body and mind, a hard shell, you felt like you were kissing a statue as you choked on his blood, the liquid metallic and sweet.

You can feel the punctures in your skin closing, it hurts so much worse than when he bit you, you distract yourself by licking into his mouth, feeling his tongue against yours.

Seokjin jumps off of you the second your wounds are healed and leaves without saying a word. You can hear the door lock in your daze.

You scoff, what was up with him, you wonder, dining and dashing like that. The blood loss has you quickly falling asleep despite wanting to use the time alone to plan your escape.

---

They both leave you alone all day until night again. You wake up hungry and weak. When Seokjin wordlessly stalks towards you that night you tell him so.

“I still can’t trust you to play well with others.”

“I need food! I need to eat! I am not a goddamn vampire like you! I can’t survive off your blood!” You throw your pillow at him. Should you have done that? Probably not, but you’re too hungry to care.

Seokjin pauses, looks at the floor where the pillow lays at his feet after coming in contact with his chest. “I’ll bring you food later tonight, now lie down, I’m hungry too.”

Ugh.

---

There were so very little things now that intrigued Seokjin, and this connection had become a mystery he wanted to solve. The strength of his pull on you was so intense it had become almost addicting to feel for Seokjin.

A vampire's pull had always been one-sided, but this pull acted like a wave, crashing onto the shore of your consciousness, pulling back and forth, dragging his memories along the current too.

Promised food, you comply, lying down against your better judgement. You glare at him as he lies next to you, and he smooths your furrowed features with his fingers instead of matching your anger. It makes you feel self conscious, the way he watches you with searching eyes. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

“So demanding, do you want me to bite you that badly?”

Is he teasing you? “No. I don’t. At all!”

“Okay then.” he lies back down, his arms underneath his head.

You sit up to look down at him. “Is this a joke?”

“I’ll wait, I don’t mind. I can wait for days, the question is can you?”

If you tried to stab him now he would definitely be able to stop you. Too bad. “I think I can’t stand you.”

“You barely know me!”

“I’ve seen enough,” you scoff.

“I’ve lived a long time,” Seokjin says, serious again, “you don’t care to see more? Who I really am?”

“Who are you?”

“Let me bite you and find out,” he winks.

'Well, he seems to be in a better mood,' you think. You wonder why he is even bothering to ask you, you’re his prisoner, after all. “So this is not just about feeding anymore?”

“I’m a vampire, of course it is.”

You sigh, you’re hungry and tired from blood loss. “Okay, bite me, but choose some place else,” you rub the sensitive spot on your neck and shiver. “NOT THERE!”

Seokjin stops pushing your legs open. “But there is an artery in your leg-”

Your face goes hot, you shove your wrist in his face. “Here then!” He sighs and lies back down again, pulling you over his body easily. You sit awkwardly against his lap as you watch his fangs prick your inner wrist. The blood loss this time wasn’t so bad, but it still made your weak body sway, your free hand bracing yourself against his chest.

He does the same thing to you again, pulls memories of your life. You saw memories from before the boat wreck to your childhood, and you saw glimpses of Seokjin’s life as well. You learned at one point in his very long life he stopped being a complete monster and became a part time bartender.

For decades he moved from taverns, to pubs, to bars. The perfect career, and as his beautiful looks were admired everywhere he went, he was never short of meal options. You woke in the morning and you laid on clean sheets, there was water for you and bread and butter and jam, an apricot and an apple, food not found on an island. The portal.

Tonight. This night you will be ready for Seokjin. You quickly realized you weren’t just remembering with Seokjin, you were feeling, and he was feeling too. If you could distract him well enough with a memory, you think you’d be able to escape!

---

Tonight Jimin walks into your room instead.

“Where’s Seokjin?”

“You didn’t miss me?” He holds a pear in his hand, throwing it up in the air and catching it easily. “He is busy, the others were feeling neglected by him-”

“There are others? Other humans?!”

Jimin smirks at your wide eyes. “Yes, pet, did you think you were special?” You swallow, keeping your questions to yourself. So Seokjin really meant it when he talked about playing well with others. Who were they and how long have they been here? Could some of them be your friends? Maybe you weren’t the only survivor on your boat! More humans, more people to help you fight against Seokjin and Jimin, if you could just meet them and somehow convince them...

Jimin heard your accelerating heartbeat, could see the happiness dance across your features. “What ever you are thinking, I suggest against it. Actually, go ahead and try, I haven’t punished anyone in so long.”

“Are you going to bite me or not?”

“Oh, so now you’re eager for it, it’s always the same.”

“Still not allowed, huh? Must suck to be you. Ha! Get it?”

“Do you think you’re being cute? Jin said I can’t bite you, he didn’t say anything about not hurting you.” Jimin throws the pear in the air again, “What? No clever retort?”

“I don’t know about Seokjin,” you speak softly, “but you used to be human, why do you act like this?” You watch as Jimin drops the pear on the ground and steps on the fruit with his feet. You bite your lip. What a waste. You consider pulling out your dagger just for that.

“Being human?” Jimin runs a hand through his hair, “I don’t remember anything about that. I can’t imagine being so weak and foolish.”

“You really don’t remember?” You look at the pear, squished into a pulp. “Can you do what Seokjin does, with the memories?”

“What makes you think I want to learn about your pathetic life?”

“No,” You idiot. You sigh. “But maybe you want to learn about your pathetic life?”

You scream, Jimin’s nails were digging into your skull, a handful of your hair in his fists. “Call me pathetic again,” he threatens lowly.

“Pathetic,” you say bearing your teeth. Jimin smiles, because in that moment you reminded him of someone. He’s going to enjoy breaking the bones of your body and watching your limbs reassemble again. He grabs your forearm, pulling your arm closer to your face. You wince as his grip tightens, struggling against his tight hold on your hair. “Call me pathetic again,” he sings, his eyes sparkling with delight.

You weigh your options in that moment.

“Seokjin!” you scream.

Jimin laughs, tightening his grip even more so you are sure to have bruises, “Do you think he really cares about what happens to you?”

“Jimin was a regular at your bar! Wasn’t he?!” You had seen the younger vampire, only briefly, you barely recognized him with dark hair, but you knew it was Jimin the way you felt your own heart soar when Seokjin glanced at him for the first time.

You screamed louder than you’ve ever heard yourself, making the vampire wince at your volume, because in that moment Jimin snapped the bone in your forearm. “Even if you don’t remember,” you cry, mumbling out the words through your pain, “you were human. Just. Like. Me.”

Jimin grabs your upper arm this time, and squirm in his hold. You start to cry harder despite trying to hold the tears in. The door to your room slams open. Seokjin looks furious when he steps towards the both of you.

“Jimin leave!"

“What?” The white haired vampire loosens his grip, but stands his ground. Seokjin doesn’t speak again, only gives him a look, and Jimin relents, breaking his stare with several blinks and releasing you. The younger vampire can’t hide his emotions as well as Seokjin and you see the hurt twist his beautiful features.

You sit on the ground grimacing in pain, holding your broken arm to your chest. Outside your room you hear the familiar crash of glass and scrape of wood and you suspect Jimin is not taking Seokjin’s orders well. Seokjin looks much more unhinged than you ever recall seeing him and then impassiveness washes over his face again, much to your disappointment.

“He is usually not like this. He can go months without drinking blood, it seems my ban has just made him all the more obsessed with you,” he sighs.

“Greeat,” you wince, “Lift the ban then, might as well.” If you were being honest with yourself, you were curious what would happen if Jimin bit you. Maybe then he wouldn’t despise you so much.

“The ban is not to protect you, naive little dove.” He sits down on the floor next to you. You find the sight comical, Seokjin in an expensive suit sitting on the dusty floor.

You roll your eyes. Of course. “You care a lot about him,” you whisper softly. He nods. You turn to him, “Do you remember why you started caring? Do you think who he is now still acts in the same way that made you care so much for him?”

“You think I’m a fool?” he laughs softly, “I know Jimin’s...lost his way...” You sit in silence as you struggle to take your mind off the pain in your arm. “For us, time, is infinite. This is only a small stretch of time compared to what I’ve been through. Jimin will come back around, I know it.”

“Well I think he’s a lost cause,” you mumble.

“He’s not, no one is...This is going to hurt a lot, if you don’t mind, I can make it quick.” His hand traces your jaw and turns your head to face him, eyes glancing towards your lips.

“Am I going to have to get used to this, you fixing the pain he causes-”

“Am I going to have to get used to you both provoking each other all the time?”

You bite your lip, he started it, it’s not your fault he freaks out over every little thing you say. You change the subject. “Are there really other prisoners here? Other humans like me?”

Seokjin tuts disapprovingly, “House guests, y/n! They can stop being in service to us whenever they want, we provide them all with a choice.”

“Oh, and what are the options, be your personal feeding supply or die?”

“Ahh see, you catch on quickly, and Jimin calls you stupid.”

Your eyes narrow on him, “Not much of a choice there.”

Seokjin leans into you, “it comforts them, when they think they have some control. You know, you would all be at the bottom of the ocean if it weren’t for us.”

You pull your legs closer to your body, it’s hard to look at him, much less listen to the disturbing things he says, “Why are you telling me this? Am I supposed to be grateful?” You shuffle your body, trying to get comfortable despite the throbbing pain of your broken arm.

“Perhaps,” he scrutinizes your body, “At least don’t provoke Jimin. Ready?”

You hum, “Yeah, I’m ready for my medicine, Doctor.”

He looks down, nodding. “No anesthesia for this surgery I’m afraid.”

He motions you closer, bites into his wrist and fills his mouth with his own blood. You’re careful not to jostle your arm too much as you move in front of him. His long fingers hold your head still as he presses his mouth onto yours, feeding you his blood. Even when you scream in pain he holds you to him as your bone readjusts itself and heals back together, your body in excruciating agony. He holds you tightly, his mouth swallowing your screams until the process is complete, until you pass out in his arms.

---

You wake up to clanging silver. The light feels warm on your face, and then you feel nothing as the curtains are drawn. You open your eyes, ready to protest.

“Oh my god!”

The woman before you jumps at your words. “Your breakfast,” she motions to the tray.

“You're real, oh my god, it’s true! Help me! Please, we can escape together!” The woman stumbles away from you as you desperately try to hold on to her.

“What?” Why is she looking at you like that? Why is she acting like that?! She pushes you away as she opens the door. You’re too stunned, too hurt by this stranger who you thought could help you to question her when she says, “There is no escape.” She closes the door, locking you inside. What just happened?!

Now that you’re alone again you search the room from top to bottom, desperate now that you’ve realized you’re up against so much more. All the drawers are empty, not even a pen and paper in the desk. The window opens but that doesn’t help you because you’re several floors up. The bathroom has running water and the prettiest bathtub you’ve ever seen, so you give up and spend the day soaking yourself, in your clothes. The dress floating and surrounding you reminded you of a certain man, well, merman. No one visits you that night.

The day repeats itself six times. You try different approaches to try and convince the older woman to help you and every time she refuses or ignores you completely.

You don’t get it, you don’t understand, and her behavior disturbs you. You had asked her, “Don’t you want to see your friends and family again?! Do you have children? Or a spouse?” Her answer was, “I don’t think so.”

‘I don’t think so.’ She couldn’t tell you how long she’d been here either. The implication scared you.

You sit at the door, your ear to the wood all day. Sometimes you’ll hear footsteps, you know it’s not Jimin or Seokjin, because they don’t make any noise when they walk. Sometimes you yell and bang on the door waiting for a response that never comes.

One day you yanked down the drapery, opened the window completely letting all the sunshine in, and soaked it in like a cat. Before you woke up the next morning everything had been set back the way it was. It was maddening.

So one day you flooded the bathroom, just to see if anyone would come to stop you. They didn’t and the next morning the tub was gone. You cried all night.

For six nights you’re alone. The fifth night you dig into your dress pockets to find the tiny shell Yoongi gifted you. You tap it three times and wait, holding it to your ear.

“Y/n?” His groggy voice fills the sea noise. You can’t bring yourself to speak, or you would really break down. Hearing his voice was enough.

---

Before the sun sets on the seventh night there is a knock on your door. You’re already so close to the entrance you can hear the soft click as it unlocks and you swing the door open to see Jimin.

He smiled down at you, a picture of sin. The young vampire wore casual loose-fitting clothes, shirt hanging over his shoulders. He dresses so relaxed, so opposite to Seokjin, who wore his shirts buttoned up to the collar. All you wanted to do all day was talk to someone, be heard, but with Jimin here you feel like an animal cornered in a trap, and you want to hide.

He gives you a cocky smile and drapes his arm over your shoulders, dragging you back into the room. “Look at you! Perfectly fine, Seokjin always overreacts,” he whines, “I’m tired of waiting. I can trust you not to tell on me, right pet?”

The vampire presses himself against your back and wraps his arms around your waist, locking you to him, chin digging into your shoulder. You stand frozen against him, Jimin is excellent at making sure you feel like you’re trapped and powerless when you’re around him.

His nuzzles your neck, lovingly like a lover would, inhaling your scent. You craved human contact, but this man isn’t exactly human now, is he? Your stomach turns as the familiar feeling of fear bubbles inside you.

“And if I don’t?” you whisper, and his grip tightens around you.

“You tell me, what do you think will happen, if you don’t?” he mumbles against your neck, teeth grazing your skin and he moans softly. He wrapped himself around your body, caressing your curves, it confused you at how affectionate he was being, or was he just a snake constricting his prey?

Your stomach tightens, you were stronger than this, right? A week in time out didn’t work on you, right? You couldn’t stop the sounds escaping your lips every time Jimin shifted against you. You blame Seokjin’s fondness for him that must have rubbed off on you. You try to step away but Jimin pulls you in closer.

“I thought I was a disgusting human, are you the one who missed me, Jimin?” You ask him softly.

“There are things about you that are only barely revolting, I guess.” He can feel the shift in your mood as annoyance bristles through your body, it makes him smile. You are so defiant for being so scared, it makes him want to break you even more.

You’re scared, but deep down there was a part of you too curious for your own good, that just wanted Jimin to bite you, just to see why and what Seokjin was protecting him from. It would only be to your advantage, if that was the case, right? You stretch your neck to the side slightly to see what Jimin’s reaction would be. His fingers dig into your hips. “What’s this?” Oh no.

Jimin pulls the shell hidden inside your pocket. You grab at his hands, but he’s too fast, dancing around you as he pushes you away, pushing you to the ground.

Somehow you always end up here on the floor, at Jimin’s feet, probably exactly where the vampire thinks you should be. You’ve never seen him more excited, it twists your insides.

Jimin’s cold fingers inspect the tiny shell, tutting. He mouths the words, ‘bad girl’ silently. Tapping the tiny shell, he brings the shell to his lips.

“Yoongi, I know you’re there. Do you want to hear y/n?” He crouches next to you, lifts your chin so your eyes meet his, smiling as if you were playing along on an inside joke. “Do you want to hear her cries? Do you want to hear her moans?” his sinful voice sings tauntingly.

The younger vampire promised Jin he wouldn’t touch you, but Seokjin has so many rules, and this just proved you couldn’t be trusted, that you needed to be taught a lesson. Seokjin will forgive him, Jimin thinks, he always does.

“C’mon, Yoongi wants to hear you, y/n! I bet he misses you. Let him hear your pretty voice.” You just glare at him, staying silent. Jimin didn’t seem angered by your defiance, in fact, he seemed happy.

He pulls your hair, moving your face closer to the shell, his nails dig into your scalp, and you feel them pierce your skin. The pain causes you to let out a strangled cry. “That’s it!” You hold back tears as you glare at him, Seokjin is wrong, Jimin can’t be saved.

“I’m not afraid of you anymore,” you grit out, scratching at his hand.

“Oh, no?” He releases your hair. You jump up but Jimin pulls you down to the ground again. Even as you kick and hit him, it’s obvious it’s not hurting the vampire. He easily pins you down, caging you in with his thighs, his knees pinning your arms to your sides. His fingers wrap around your neck, holding you tight as you grunt against him. You’ve become a mouse, trapped by a snake.

“Afraid yet?” You know he won’t kill you, it seems like torturing you is just too much fun for him. Jimin may be stronger than you, faster than you, but he’s as caged as you are, stuck on this island, leashed by Seokjin’s rules, acting out like a child.

“No.” He lets go and you heave in air, coughing. “Seokjin will find out, even if I don’t say anything. He said-”

“Jin,” he bares his fangs, “says a lot of things.” He brings the shell to his mouth again, “What bone should I break first?”

Jimin laughs, and you wonder what the merman said to him.

Jimin grabs your jaw, tilting your head to the side, reveling in your struggle. He places the tiny shell next to your ear. You try to silence your heavy breathing. “Yoong-g-gi?” You hear the ocean, the rumbling of the sea, and you hear-

“Y/n!” Yoongi’s voice rumbles through the tiny shell, he calls out to you, words rushed and worried, full of concern that has your heart dropping, “Jimin has a weakness, It’s T-” Jimin crushes the tiny shell between his fingers.

Jimin pouts, “I thought he would have used the opportunity to confess, now he’ll never get the chance.”

He moves away from you, “Well, aren’t you going to make a run for it? I didn’t lock the door.” He lifts his eyebrows up, nodding towards the door.

You lie on the cold hard ground stunned. Yoongi's gone. You think of a scenario where you rush towards the door, only to be stopped by Jimin as he tackles you again. No, you won’t do that. Jimin takes and takes, you're going to make it your mission to take from him. You stand up on shaky legs and walk towards Jimin.

“Actually, I rather you just bite me instead.” You’re not confident that he’d really go against Seokjin, so might as well egg him on. “Unless you’re scared of Seokjin?”

Jimin scoffs, jaw clenching in annoyance and eyes narrowing. “Any other cute little means of communication you tried to sneak in here, hmm?” He yanks you close to him again, his hands pull at your dress, wandering over your thighs, skirting dangerously close to your center. He smirks down at you as you pretend to act unaffected by the way his hands glide over your ass, kneading the flesh. His hands run up your corset, getting closer and closer to your dagger.

You run your hand over the front of his pants. It was the only thing you could think to do to distract the vampire before he found your dagger and really killed you. It worked. Jimin stops you, digs his nails into your wrist, but he doesn’t pull your hand away.

So without many other options, you send your quarrel with the vampire off into a whole other direction as you grab for the bulge in his pants. You feel the weight of him in your palm, your mouth drops a little at his size. Jimin’s jaw tightens as you rub up and down his bulge.

You’re stuck in a staring match with the vampire. Two stubborn beings, challenging each other to see who breaks first.

Surprising you, he spins you around and starts undoing the straps of your corset.

No, no, that’s the opposite of what you wanted! “What are you doing?” You try to wiggle your body to face him again, “Just fuck me already!”

Jimin cages you against his lean frame, crushing your body to the closest wall with his own. He inhales into your neck. He can sense the torrent of your spiraling emotions, he feels your hatred for him radiating off your body stronger than ever as he slows his advances down.

“You are acting more stupid than usual, pet.”

“You wanted to play,” you say, “Well, let’s play then.”

He’s never played this kind of game before, and you’ve enticed him, he has no problem calling your bluff. His hand runs along your cleavage, kneading the flesh.

Jimin pulls your dress up slowly, his cold hand running up your leg. You rest your forehead on the wall, shuddering when he drags his fingers across your center. “Your hands are cold.”

He pushes two fingers inside you, deep, you were barely ready for the stretch, crying out from the sudden intrusion and cold sensation. Jimin groans as you whimper against him, “Forget what I am already?” He licks your neck, fingers pumping in and out at a dizzying pace.

“How could I ever forget?” you whisper.

“I regret destroying that shell, I would have liked to let Yoongi listen to what a whore you are.”

Your body tenses and Jimin leans his body harder into yours, pressing another finger inside. “What would the dogs think, knowing their bitch is so wet for their enemy, hmm?” Making you angry is too easy, he thinks, and makes you smell so much better, sexier. Jimin is used to fear, he’s grown accustomed to desire, but your rage makes him ravenous. If Jimin wasn’t so consumed by his carnal desires, he might question himself as to why he wants someone to hate him so much, but all he can think about is how he’s going to drive you to madness with just his fingers. He resists the urge to bite you by sucking harshly on your neck, pulling the blood closer to your skin and leaving dark marks behind.

Before you have a chance at release he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and holding up the evidence of your arousal, the clear substance clinging to his fingers as he licks them clean, moaning in your face. The sight is depraved, and you can’t look away. He smiles smugly at you as he smells your lust surround him.

“I knew you wouldn’t bite me.”

“We will get to that, we’re playing a game remember? Or do you want to stop now?”

“All this talk and I still haven’t been bitten or fucked, are vampires impotent or something or is it just you?”

Jimin laughs, yanking your body to face the wall again and pinning you to him. “I’ll make you forget everything but my dick while I’m fucking you, you won’t have a single other thought in that pretty little head of yours other than giving me all your pleasure.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m waiting.”

Jimin laughs again, pressing three thick fingers deep inside you again, you legs go weak as he holds you up with the force of his body against yours. He drags his fingers out and higher until he’s circling your other opening. His digits press into both of your holes, filling you up completely as you cry out. You haven’t had someone give attention to that part of you in so long, you tense at the unexpected stretch. His thumb works against your clit expertly as he rocks his hand against yours. You feel so full and overwhelmed by Jimin. “So close already? Beg me to make you come, pet.”

“I’m not your pet.”

You take his torture silently, hold in your moans as he brings you to the brink of release and stops short of satisfaction over and over again. He thrusts his fingers in and out of your holes, until the tight stretch goes away, his fingers easily gliding in and out of your wetness, until the ache is replaced with a need for more. Your entire core pulsates as he slowly and torturously circles your swollen bud, changing the pressure just enough to drive you crazy by ghosting over your clit when you needed more and rubbing even harsher circles when it all becomes too much, his touch making you feverish and sick with desire. When you clench around his fingers, closer than you’ve gotten to release since he started this torture, he pulls out of you completely, pressing his hard cock, straining against the cloth of his pants, into your sore center.

“You smell so good,” he moans. You don’t want to think about Jungkook, you don’t want to taint his memory, but Jimin’s words are so similar. Jungkook is nothing like Jimin, but they are more similar to each other than to a human like you. Perhaps you are just as weak and pathetic as Jimin says, a human can be no match for a vampire, and you’ll never be able to win against him.

“Please Jimin...just let me cum...”

“Beg me.” His usual airy voice drips with arousal, and he presses his bulge harder into your wetness.

You don’t do as he says, you can’t, so he continues his torturous little game, until you’re moaning loudly, head thrown back against his shoulder, whimpering every time he stills. He pulls his fingers out of your dripping core, focusing his attention on your ass, thumb rubbing harsh circles into your throbbing clit, you feel so empty and painfully full as your sensitive walls clench around nothing and his fingers stretch your rim open for him. Your entire body vibrates, but you’d rather stay unsatisfied than say please to Jimin ever again.

Finally, as the sun sets and the last bit of light around the curtains disappears, Jimin realizes he can play his game no longer and pulls away from you completely. Your legs give out as you slide down the wall, mind finally free from the haze of lust Jimin kept you in.

“So weak,” Jimin tuts.

“...impotent...dick...”

“Pathetic slut.”

“I thought about Seokjin the entire time,” you whisper.

“...liar.”

---

You must have fallen asleep, you feel a hand cupping your cheek, and you open your eyes to Seokjin, blonde hair, red eyes, suit buttoned to the collar. You let out a small laugh, and then groan once the pain in your joints wakes you fully.

Jin carries you back to your bed. You tug on his sleeve.

“Please take the pain away,” you ask softly.

Seokin’s eyes search the expanse of your skin, “There are no cuts on your body.”

Groaning, you sit up and kiss the vampire who freezes against you. So you take the opportunity to straddle Seokjin’s lap, and start unbuttoning his shirt, kissing, licking, biting his smooth skin. Jimin’s harsh words replay in your mind and sting you. Screw him, let him think whatever he wants, let him hear you. This had been a part of your plan anyways, first Seokjin, and then you’ll worry about him, might as well have some relief too.

“What happened?” Seokjin asks as you rut into his body, tearing his shirt open. He doesn’t look upset that you popped the buttons, does he ever get upset anymore? You hastily unbuckle his belt. His hands cover yours, repeating his question, “What happened, y/n?”

You grab his hand and move it under your dress. Seokjin stills as his fingers come into contact with your thigh, slick with your wetness from hours of Jimin's teasing. His hands travel up your shaking leg.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, “...Did Ji-”

You silence him with a kiss. “Fuck me, I feel like I’m dying.”

Seokjin laughs against your lips, “Humans are so dramatic,” but he’s already pulling you closer, turning you around to lie on the bed. He bends down to your core, pushing your dress over your waist, you spread your legs wide open for him.

He licks your arousal from your inner thigh, fingers massaging your aching center.

“Ugh fuck, stop teasing me,” you whine. Seokjin fills you with two long fingers, pushing inside you to the knuckle. His teeth bite down on your inner thigh, it stings but your lust somehow lessens the pain. Your body tenses, you clench around his fingers and he speeds up, pulling more blood from your veins.

You flinch when you see Jimin again, reliving the memory from Seokjin’s mind. He’s half naked, kissing a beautiful woman who is fully naked, right in front of Seokjin.

Jimin looks so different, dark hair, flushed skin, tenderness in his eyes.

The girl lowers her body between the men, and fills her mouth with Seokjin’s hardening length. You feel yourself become wetter. Seokjin moans against your feverish skin, biting you for a second time, higher up your leg. It stings again, but you’re too busy trying to get off on his fingers to care about anything but release. Seokjin bites the mound of flesh close to your center, his tongue pressing against your hood, your vision goes white and then-

You see Yoongi’s sharp eyes above you, his naked body on top of yours, cold and wet, hard cave rocks against your bare back. You see Namjoon, a younger version of him, long hair pulled back into a low bun, across the room in bed with another woman. The room is small and empty. Two beds, two couples, Seokjin watching his friend fuck the random girl senseless.

You feel jealousy, watching Namjoon through Seokjin’s eyes. He looks so different, so feral and savage. The bed creaks loudly underneath him as he grips the headboard, and thrusts into her wildly. Jin pumps his fingers inside you in time with Namjoon's thrusts, it makes you feel like you’re going to burst into a thousand pieces. Namjoon’s eyes glow yellow as he gives Seokjin a wicked grin and you’re scared for the first time of Namjoon as he growls, releasing into the woman.

“Don’t make a mess,” he drops the spent girl on Seokjin’s lap, who caresses her face. She’s breathtaking, you feel inadequacy course through you, you feel jealousy, you feel turned on when her full lips envelop Seokjin's thumb. Namjoon pulls the sleeping naked girl from Seokjin’s bed, tapping her check to rouse her awake.

Seokjin’s arousal is overwhelming you. He slams into the woman’s body from behind, chasing his high while holding her face down into the bed, and then his fangs pierce her back as her screams are muffled. You don’t want to come to this, to the feeling of her blood filling his mouth, arousing him and arousing you. Namjoon’s grunts and sounds of sex fills your mind again and you come undone in a silent scream around Seokjin’s fingers.

---

Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit.

You run around the room, darting around Seokjin who watches you rather calmly for the unfolding situation. The rest of his body frozen, the blessed dagger lodged in between his vertebrae, stopping his regeneration.

Once you came, thighs snug around his head, you pulled the dagger from your corset and stabbed him in the back. You kicked him away from you before he could attack and he fell backward, the dagger piercing deep into his back, and that’s where he was currently, frozen on the floor, watching you as you run around the room in disbelief that you actually managed to stab a vampire.

You trip over him by accident and he lets out a soft grunt. “Fuck! Are you okay?” you sit next to his frozen body, “Like, relative to being stabbed, I mean? Don’t answer that...because you can’t. Oh fuck.” You put your head down, resting it on his chest, you don’t hear anything but your laboured breathing. ‘Believe in yourself, y/n! Yoongi believed in you…’

You gather yourself up once again and you move to the window, jiggling the handle. It’s still unlocked! You’re too high up to escape but...

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I really am sorry,” you grunt as you heave the immobilized vampire to the window, inch by inch, Seokjin’s body like a sack of bricks. You place him against the wall and crouch down so you can look him in the eyes, patting down his messy hair, tousled in your struggle to move him, “I’m sorry,” you repeat again, “but you’re a vampire right?” You say encouragingly, and you give him a couple of pats on the cheek, his eyes dart down to watch the action, “Technically, you can’t die.”

With every ounce of strength you have left inside you, you shove Seokjin out the window.

---

You quietly lock the door to what had been your room and prison cell behind you, quickly walking through the halls. You’re not sure what you expected, maybe a gothic interior fit for Dracula, burning candlesticks and red velvet drapes, but you got electricity and mid century modern eclectic, the walls were colorful with art pieces, deep emeralds and golds and blood red. You open the first door you come across.

A young woman sits on a large bed reading a book, looking up at you. Is that how you looked to them? A more disheveled and unpleasant version of her? She looked happy, until she noticed you, and then her smile fell, disappointed you weren’t Jimin or Jin. You slam the door shut and lock it again.

You race as quietly as you can through the halls, you have no idea what you’re looking for, quickly peeking into each room you come across. Strangers, stop what they are doing to look at you, waiting like obedient lap dogs. You have yet to find an empty room. Four doors you’ve opened on this floor, no empty rooms, and you begin to feel hopeless.

You open the fifth and final door and you’re assaulted with the loud sound of moaning. The moaning comes from a woman specifically, her cries almost as loud as the slapping of her skin against Jimin’s naked body. Jimin had needed an outlet after his time with you, specifically, someone to use and bite that wasn't 'off limits.'

You stand frozen in shock, it feels like all the air has escaped the room, filling the woman’s lungs instead as she screams in ecstasy. He is standing next to the bed, fucking into her at an inhuman speed, holding her hips in the air as she struggles to hold the rest of her torso horizontal. You can’t look away, because her body, her stomach, her large bouncing tits, it’s all covered in blood. You almost scream, almost, but the small huff of air you let out instead is enough. The bed stops creaking as Jimin’s movement stops and you meet his surprised eyes.

You shut the door, lock it and run.

You run down the stairs, you see the entrance and you almost run out the door, but you instead run down the hall, flinging every door you see, praying you find something. There's a kitchen, a dining room with the longest table you’ve ever seen, and an empty room! It looks like an office! You run inside. You run to the desk, looking over the papers. Weird markings litter the pages, it reminds you of the markings on Yoongi’s bag. You have to be getting closer to your objective, you have to be! You scatter the papers around, yank open the drawers, hoping to find something useful. There’s a bookcase behind the desk, and you start pulling down books, nothing is catching your eye. You pull on the bookcase, you run your hand across the wood frantically, searching for perhaps a trap door-

“What are you looking for? I can try to help.”

You jump, almost screaming. You hold your heart, it hadn’t stopped, to your surprise. You had no idea someone else was in the room with you. You stare back at a calm man with messy brown hair, he looks at you timidly. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you. I just wanted to help, and it took me a while to organize those books,” he laughs softly. The man shuffles back to the wall, you hear metal clanging and look at his feet, they have chains around them, his hands too.

You look down at your feet, papers and books are all around you “I-I’m sorry. I was just-I didn’t know-” You had no idea how much more time you had to spare so you cut to the chase. “Is there a portal here?!”

The man’s eyes go wide, “Not here,” he speaks softly, “One level lower.” He gave you the answer you were looking for without any hesitation, was this a trick? You look at him more closely, his clothes are loose, like pajamas, and he’s barefoot, he looks at you happily, like you didn’t just storm into his room and destroy his things. The innocent expression on his face reminds you of Jungkook.

You remember why he looks so familiar, “You were sitting next to Yoongi!”

The man tilts his head confused, and then he stares at the door, “you need to leave now,” he rushes towards you, “Go down the stairs to the right.” He finds a pen on his desk. “The portal is in the basement, in Seokjin’s office. You’ll need this to open the door, it will only work once.” He grabs your hand and writes a long looping character on your palm, it burns gold and then disappears, while you stand still in shock.

Before you can question him the door bursts open. Jimin stands in the doorway, looking at you and the other man. His anger is replaced by an expression you don’t quite understand. Heavy silence envelops the room. The awkward tension is cut when Jimin speaks to you calmly saying, “Come here. Now.”

The man steps between you and Jimin. “Stay here, he can’t come inside, just like I can’t leave.” The man leans against the desk, his long legs blocking you from leaving, his chains clanging again.

“Y/n, come here now.” That was the first time Jimin said your name. You look between the men.

“Why would I go to you? You’re going to kill me!”

Jimin runs a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes to the side, “I promise you I won’t kill you if you come here right now.” He says the words as sweetly as he can in his growing irritation, trying to coax you to him, but to you he sounds patronizing and angry.

“Jimin’s lying,” the man next to you whispers, confirming your suspicions.

“Tae, just bring her to me!” the vampire screams.

“No, I don’t want to, you’re going to hurt her.”

‘Tae, he said. Is this Taehyung?’ The same man you saw next to Yoongi, the same man Namjoon warned you about, the man who is protecting you and gave you a way out of this hell of a place?

“Can’t you just do the right thing for once?!”

“You haven’t come to visit me in how long, Jimin?”

They yell at each other like an old married couple. You stare down at your hand, it looks perfectly ordinary, you think you might have just imagined it all, what Taehyung did, but you realized on this island nothing was impossible.

“A-are you a wizard?” you interrupt the men’s arguing.

Taehyung turns back to you surprised and gives you a bright smile, “No, I just learned from one. He didn't call himself a wizard, though” he laughs, “I think the correct term is warlock?”

“Oh, okay, good to know,” you mumble. Jimin quietly seethes at the doorway.

“Why do you have chains on if you can’t leave this room?”

“Yeah, why do I have chains on, Jimin?” He turns to the vampire accusingly.

“Just wait until Seokjin comes,” Jimin mutters, and he pulls the dagger you used on Seokjin out of his back pocket, holding the handle with a handkerchief. “Nice trick, by the way, y/n. Seokjin is still healing himself from the fall. You’re going to regret not coming to me when I asked.” He glares at you.

“So that’s what fell!” Taehyung roars with laughter.

“I said I was sorry,” you mutter, biting your lip. How the hell are you going to get out of this situation now? As if you summoned the Devil himself, Seokjin appears next to Jimin.

You hide behind Tahyung out of instinct, grabbing onto his chained arm. Taehyung holds in his joy while the two vampires' expressions darken.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” Jimin seethes.

You let anger get the best of you and wrap your arms around Taehyung’s waist instead, glaring from behind his shoulder.

“Y/n-” “Don’t,” Taehyung interjects. “-get away from him,” Seokjin warns.

“Why?! How do I know you both aren’t going to murder me as soon as I leave this room?”

“Is there not a spell we can use to get her out?!” Jimin turns to Seokjin ignoring you. You grind your teeth. Two can play that game.

“Why are you locked in here? How do you know Yoongi and Namjoon?”

“Yoongi? We all met him when we came to the island.” Jimin screams Taehyung’s name to silence him, but he ignores him easily. “You should have seen Seokjin and Jimin, he got them all wet and they vowed to make sushi out of him!” he laughs, turning his body around in your arms to face you instead of the pair.

You look over to the two vampires who have gone quiet. “And Namjoon?”

“Taehyung..” Seokjin warns.

“What? I’m not even allowed to talk about it now?” Taehyung whines.

“Enough! Y/n come here...please.” You hadn’t expected a request from Seokjin. “I swear, I won’t punish you for what you’ve done, just come here.” he holds out his hand for you, you can see the magic swirl around his fingers, burning his skin. He winces, but doesn’t move his hand away, even when his tips begin to turn black with char.

“What about Jimin?”

“Yes, fine, I won’t punish you, just hurry the fuck up,” the younger vampire looks anxiously at Seokjin’s hand.

“Y/n, please no! I’ve been here by myself for so long, I can’t stand it! You’re the first person who’s visited me. I don’t want to be alone,” Taehyung whimpers, a high pitched whine as you hesitantly make your way to Seokjin. He reminds you so much of Jungkook. He paces around you, begging you to stay.

“I-I don’t want to be locked in that room anymore.”

“Okay! Just come here!” Jimin yells.

“How can I trust you? How do I know you won’t go back on your word?!”

“They will, y/n, please! Look, Jimin promised he would visit me, he lied!”

Seokjin pulls his hand away, completely burned black and puts out his other arm instead. “You’re just going to have to trust us, like we will have to trust you not to pull any more stunts. We’ll trust each other, okay?” Seokjin pleads with you.

“I-I’ll come back to visit you,” you say to Taehyung. “Right?” You turn to Seokjin who relents and gives you a hasty nod.

“No!” Taehyung whimpers, “They are going to lock you away! Please believe me! You’ll never be able to escape.”

You reach for Seokjin’s hand, but Taehyung jumps in between you, holding out his chained hands. “Look at them! Look closely, what are these made out of, y/n? LOOK!” You study the metal, it looks shiny and silver. It’s silver.

Seokjin lurches forward quickly, his suit catches fire, his warm hand grasps onto yours and pulls you out of the room and away from Taehyung and everything goes black.

---

You wake up in a different room. You’re not alone. Another woman sits on the bed next to you, she jumps when you wake up. It makes you jump, ‘fuck why is everyone so jumpy here?’ you think holding your head in your hands to calm your nerves.

You try to scoot away, and you feel a tug on your ankle, so you pull the covers off of you. You’re in a new dress, all white, like the sheets, like the woman’s dress next to you. You see a chain connected to your foot that reminds you of Taehyung’s shackles but darker metal. No. “My clothes!”

“They made me, I-I’m sorry, I had to give them your clothes. The necklace wouldn’t come off, I-I didn’t tell them,” the woman pulls at her sleeve. “I kept your secret, but I can’t promise you they won’t find out, Master might look into my memories.” Your hand traces the gold watch chain around your neck, calming down.

“Okay...thank you.” You whisper uneasily. “H-How long have you been here?”

The woman thinks, humming to herself. “I lost count, Master did give me this on our Fifth Year Anniversary!” She shows off the blood red jewelry dangling from her ears.

Ugh. “That’s nice,” you say and get out of bed. The dress is tight around you, covering your arms and flowing down to your ankles, the one place the fabric doesn’t touch is your neck, the hemline sits off your shoulders and plunges into a deep V. You scoot your way to the door until you can’t take it anymore and reach for the bottom of your dress, pulling the fabric until it tears.

You hear the woman let out a soft, “oh no.”

The chain stops you from reaching the door, even if you stretch out your legs you can’t grab the handle. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

You wheel your body back around, “Hey, what’s your name?”

The woman thinks, humming to herself. “I don’t remember.”

“Listen, I’m going to need you to-WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T REMEMBER?!”

The woman flinches from your volume. “Well Master calls me his little doll and I like that name a lot, and I just, well, forgot my other name.”

You take a deep breath as you try not to be sick. “Well Dolly, your MASTER IS A HUGE FUCKING ASSHOLE. YOU FUCKING LIARS!”

---

The group in the parlor turn their heads to the small voice echoing through the halls, Jimin winces, hearing your words clearly, moving one of the women off his lap. “She’s awake.”

“I’ll go-”

“It seems you failed at controlling her, brother. Why can’t I just try?”

Seokjin scoffs, “You can barely control yourself.”

Jimin’s jaw clenches. “I’ll-” he coughs, “-use restraint. I won’t hurt her.”

---

“Monsters!”

“Oh no, they’re going to be so mad.”

“Taehyung was right! I swear to God-”

“So so mad, oh no, oh no no no.”

“I won’t let you get away with this! Liars! Bastards!”

“Master!”

The door opens and Jimin stands against the door frame, ignoring your irateness and addressing your new roommate with a smile, “Hey Doll.”

Jimin standing in front of you had extinguished some of your rage and replaced it with apprehension, halting your tirade for now. “You fucking lied,” you glare at him.

“It’s not locked, I’m not forcing you to be here,” He looks over your shoulder, “Right Baby Doll?” The woman nods enthusiastically back. “The chain was a precaution, I’ll remove it, I promise. We just need to set some ground rules, okay pet?”

“I am not your fucking pet!”

He moves around you, like a buzzard circling it’s next meal, “You look so much better in this instead of that ugly sea dress.”

“Don’t I look pretty?” you hear the woman’s tiny voice ask Jimin.

“Of course!”

You rub your temples, “Jimin, just take this chain off me.”

“After everything you’ve done, and you’re still trying to make demands? Do you know how incredibly lucky you are? Can’t you just show a bit more gratitude like her?”

Jimin kisses the woman and she moans against him, deepening the kiss. You rub harder at your temples. You're chained, a captive audience to what ever the hell display is happening in front of you, becoming more uncomfortable and annoyed with each passing minute.

“Seriously?”

He drapes his arms around the woman’s shoulders and stares at you, “Jealous?”

You scoff. You think back to the version of him in Seokjin’s memories, with the other woman. You remember the tenderness in his eyes as he watched her and you swallow down the lump forming in your throat. You are not jealous! And anyways, Jimin’s tenderness is all gone now.

“She doesn’t even remember her name anymore.”

“She doesn’t seem to mind,” he winks at her, and the woman giggles at your exchange.

“Her entire life has been taken away! What happened, it’s worse than death.” You hug your arms close to your body. Was that going to become you if you stayed here?

“Worse than death?” Jimin echoes your words and you notice him stare at his reflection in the room’s mirror. You stand in silence, watching him as he runs a hand through his hair, pushing back the loose strands while the woman softly hums to herself a sweet melody. She doesn’t sense the looming danger all around you and it makes your chest tighten in anxiety.

“You’re right y/n. Come here.” He holds out his hand for her.

He pulls her into a kiss, she smiles against her lips. You awkwardly shift at the exchange. She seemed happy with Jimin, even if she couldn’t remember the person she was anymore. It makes you wonder if she had resisted in the beginning or had always been this irritatingly agreeable...or maybe she even loved him, maybe her love was the only thing left in her.

Jimin holds her face in his hands, dragging his lips across hers, a spectacle of two lovers. She’s beautiful like Jimin, they fit perfectly together, a rose and a thorn.

It happens so quickly you stand stunned, you don’t have time to scream or stop him. She’s on the ground, neck twisted, dead.

You’re so stunned you can’t even cry, you just shake, fallen to your knees, staring at her beautiful lifeless face. Her red earrings dangle from her ears catching the light.

“What have you done?” Your voice sounds tiny and high, like hers.

“I saved her from a fate worse than death, according to you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

You can’t speak. He moves closer, putting a hand on your cheek, the same way he had held the woman’s head a few seconds ago. His cold finger wipes away your tears. When did you start crying?

“We aren’t liars. I’ll unchain you. So, will you behave now?”

---

You walk the halls during the sunlight. You stop by Taehyung’s door knocking four times, opening the door an inch. “I found this in the kitchen!”

“I’m...allergic.”

“Allergic to chocolate?! I-I’m sorry,” you mutter, though it doesn’t stop you from enjoying the bar yourself.

You lean forward into Taehyung’s room, he puts his chained arms over your head, and gives you a hug. He reminds you of Jungkook so much, sweet and gentle. But he’s not warm like him, he’s still a stranger to you, always dodging your questions. Namjoon’s words constantly play in your mind not to trust Taehyung. Even though out of everyone here, you trust him the most, you like him the most. Being able to spend time with him, even if your conversations are shallow and lighthearted, is the best part of your day.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“Why haven’t you escaped?” He whispers.

You play with the hem of your dress as a distraction, “I don’t know.”

He always asks you the same question and you always give him the same answer, but today Taehyung persists. “They won’t catch you if you go now! Isn’t that the whole reason you let yourself get caught?” Even though you hardly know anything about Taehyung, he knows so much about you already.

“I’m...I’m scared.”

He pats your head, you shake his hand away, lightly shoving him back. “I’m not a dog!”

Taehyung laughs, “Yeah, you’re a scaredy cat.”

“How dare you!” you hit his leg as he giggles.

“I want to show you something! It will help you when you finally escape!”

You cover his mouth with your hands, shushing him. Looking around to see if there were any others lurking around you, but no one ever comes around Taehyung. “What is it?”

“Well, um, you’ll have to come all the way inside.”

“...I can’t.” You move away from him again and lean your head against the door frame.

Taehyung sighs. “I knew you’d say that!” he whines. “Do you do everything Jimin says now?”

You roll your eyes, “Not even close,” you mutter. “And it’s not just Jimin...”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been told not to trust you...and you haven’t been very open with me, have you?” you look down at your hands, intertwined with his, you trace the gold markings along his chained wrists.

“It’s complicated,” he whispers.

“I can’t see how it could get more complicated than being a werewolf trapped in a house full of vampires.”

“It’s much more complicated,” he pulls on your arm, staring at you with pleading eyes. “Leave a shoe outside and they won’t notice you’ve come inside, I promise!”

You hum, searching for a compromise. “How about this,” you scoot over the entrance, sitting closer to Taehyung while making sure to keep your legs outside. “Technically, I am inside and also outside.”

“But the magic won’t work unless your body is fully inside here,” Taehyung pouts. “The spell on the room will clash with mine and who knows what will happen then!”

“How do you know so much about magic?”

“I can’t say…” Taehyung whispers.

Your expression turns sour, ‘What can you say...’ you think. “Well can’t you just like, Houdini yourself out of here?”

Taehyung shakes his head regretfully. “No, if only it were that simple. And please don’t ask me to explain,” he teases. Taehyung scoots behind you and pulls your body onto his lap. “Let’s stay like this for a while.”

“Okay,” you hum.

“Let go of each other!” You wake up on the floor with Taehyung cuddled to your side, one lone foot of yours still remains outside the door. Jimin pulls on your foot before you can untangle yourself from Taehyung, dragging the rest of your body into the hallway. Taehyung grunts, waking up as you’re pulled from his embrace.

You blink away the sleep from your eyes, face-to-face with Jimin, his head hovering over yours, eyes bright red with anger.

“Leave her alone, Jimin!”

“I-I am allowed to talk to him,” your words come out small and high when you finally speak and you hate it, the way your fear strangles your voice.

“On one condition, just one.” Jimin hisses.

“W-well, t-technically-”

"You're being so unfair!" Taehyung yells. "Do you like her that much?"

“Tae, enough!” He slams the door in Taehyung’s pleading face.

There is a bang on the door, only once, so loud and strong it shakes the entire connecting wall, the picture frames wobble and dust falls from the ceiling, the sound so abrupt and booming it makes you, and even Jimin, flinch.

---

“Jimin told me you were in a...compromising position, with Tae today.” You and him watch the stars from your bedroom window, now locked.

Your stomach tightens. “Taehyung is lonely, maybe if Jimin spent time with him I wouldn’t have to,” you mutter.

“Do you care about Taehyung?” Jin’s eyes study your features, his sharp hearing picks up your heartbeat, waiting to hear any lies in your answers.

“No, I just-He’s the only normal person here.”

“Person? Normal?” Jin quietly laughs.

“A werewolf is a person too.”

“Ahhh, so you think Tae is a werewolf.”

“He is, isn’t he?” You spin around to look at Jin but his poker face is as strong as ever as he smiles down at you.

“Is a vampire a person too?”

You chew on your bottom lip, “I guess so,” you side eye the man next to you, “Deep down. Somewhere.”

Jin kisses your lips softly, carrying you back to your bed and placing you beneath him. You’ve managed to latch onto Jin since that night, a lesser of two evils. The vampire truly was a forgiving man, and even if parts of you were weakened by fear, your mind had impressively blocked Seokjin’s pull since that night as well, so he had deemed you his personal pet project, his puzzle to solve, keeping Jimin an arm’s length away from you.

Jin was nice, sometimes. And sometimes, you enjoyed his company too.

You play with his soft blond locks. You know the pain is coming eventually, so you do everything you can to distract yourself, admiring the vampire’s beautiful features before you. He pulls the deep neckline of your dress easily down your body, exposing your chest to his piercing eyes. His eyes stop on the gold piece nestled in your cleavage, like always, he ignores it. He knows what it is, what he doesn’t know is why Namjoon gave it to you.

The cold air and Seokjin’s cold fingers kneading your breasts sends you into a bout of shivers, when he drags his tongue across your skin you arch your back and push your chest closer to his soft lips. He’s so gentle with you now. Sometimes, you wish he was rougher, like the Seokjin you witnessed with Namjoon.

“Won’t you let me in again, Dove?” Namjoon’s watch falls into the dip in your clavicle, replaced by Jin's fangs as he bites the flesh of your breasts, his fingers pull at your nipples distracting you from the pain. He doesn’t drain you unconscious anymore, instead Seokjin likes to covers your skin in lovebites, taking all night with you.

“I-I can’t control it.”

“Let’s practice control,” Seokin smirks, lips stained red, and he moves his hands down your body.

He takes time stretching you full with his fingers, his lips never leaving your chest, steadily building up the pressure inside you with each quick stroke of his thumb against your core until you’re tightening around his digits. “Don’t cum.”

You tense around him, unable to successfully hold in your moans. “I can’t. I’m going to-”

“Just try, Dove.” You would hope he’d stop moving his fingers, at least slow down, but he’s steady and relentless, his digits pushing inside you in the most perfect mind-numbing pace. There’s no way you could stop your impending orgasm, but you try to hold it off, just two more three four five agonizing seconds longer. Seokjin sucks on the sensitive skin of your breast, mouth pulling as much of the mound as he can fit inside while you pulse around his digits. You feel his teeth sink deep into your flesh and his name escapes your lips in a strangled moan.

His usual dull eyes look up at you shinning with desire. “Let’s try again.”

---

“I brought biscuits.” You hold up the sweet cookies in front of Taehyung’s confused face.

“Thank you, y/n.” Taehyung gives you a bright smile and hugs you extra tight when you peek your head into his room.

“Ready to escape?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Taehyung pouts. “You’re-I'm-” Taehyung struggles to say the right words, “We’re running out of time, y/n.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just need a couple minutes with you, please. I have everything ready!” Taehyung runs to his desk, pulling together a stack of papers. “You want to see everyone again, don’t you? You friends and family?” he pleads.

Your family, you’re ashamed to admit you haven’t thought about them. It wasn’t even purposeful, your mind just had stopped wandering to thoughts of them.

Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about them anymore either, it hurt too much. The small traces of their personalities that Taehyung reminded you of had become sufficient enough as you tolerated living. “W-What do you mean we’re running out of time?”

“I think I have just enough magic to fill your necklace,” he whispers, “but if I remember correctly, that model only holds twelve weeks worth of time. How long have you been on this island, y/n?”

Your fingers clutch at Namjoon’s watch resting against your heart. Could you really rewind back time to when you never got on that damned boat! “I-I just need to take off a shoe?”

Taehyung’s face lights up. “Yeah, or something that has your scent that they can still sense, just in case”

“So the more I leave the less noticeable it would be?”

“Well, I guess so?”

You look around at the hallway, still empty like always, and pull off both shoes from your feet. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” You begin to shimmy out of your dress. Taehyung’s eyes go wide, and he wets his drying lips, then he springs into action, searching his closet for something to cover you. You pull his large sweater over your body and take a hesitant step inside.

Taehyung wraps you into his arms in a proper hug, holding you close. “I’m so happy you found me, y/n. I’m so happy.” He whispers.

He holds you tight to him, you're ashamed how affected you are by his kind gestures, you shouldn’t feel this way about someone who Namjoon told you to stay away from, it felt like a betrayal. “Don’t forget about me once you escape,” Taehyung whispers.

You melt into his embrace. “I won’t. Isn’t there a way to break the spell on the island? There just has to be! There has to be a way to save you and Yoongi and-”

“You like him,” Taehyung pouts.

“What? Who? Yoongi?!” Your face flushes hot.

“I don’t like sharing,” Taehyung mumbles into his sweater currently draped over your shoulders.

You swallow thickly. “Tae?”

He pulls away, holding you loosely, searching your eyes. During your interactions, you usually kept your attention around Taehyung, unable to focus too long on his intimidating aura and good looks, worried you'd start feeling too much for the mysterious man, worried you'd disappoint Namjoon. But now Taehyung is all around you, and his magnetism is too strong for you to resist. “Tae-”

His kiss is brief, however no less impactful, the way he pours his desires into you until your lost in a haze, following his lips as he pulls away, entranced by the small smile he shows you.

When he lifts his chained arms over your head, he pulls your necklace off as well. You were surprised how easily he removed it, when even Jimin couldn’t pull it off you (much to the vampire’s annoyance). You watched intently as Taehyung turns the watch's dial and whispers a spell in a language you can’t understand. “There, it worked, I set it to the full twelve weeks. you’ll know when to use it.” He places the watch around your neck again, his fingers cupping your cheeks and he rests his forehead against yours, content. Your face burns hot, Taehyung is so affectionate and sweet and treats you like glass.

This close, you can peer into his deep warm brown eyes, irises twinkling back at you so beautifully, it looks like gold swirls in them. “Just one more thing, and then the world is ours,” he says.

---

You sit up in your bed abruptly. Your fingers search for Namjoon’s watch as you try to steady your breathing. The hard gold feels comforting against the tips of your fingers as your eyes adjust to the darkness. You’re reminded of the night you first arrived. But gone is Yoongi’s colorful dress, the clinical white fabric of your new dress, sits tight around your body like a straight jacket and blends in with the white bed sheets.

Weren’t you just with Taehyung, what happened? You remember he told you you were running out of time. Then what happened?

You have to go find him!

You leave the bed and search out his room again. Jimin passes you in the halls, as quiet as a cat, startling you so much you almost fall if it weren't for his fast reflexes. “There you are, ugh I figured you’d be headed to Tae’s room,” Jimin frowns, “Let’s go.”

“Where are you taking me?” You fight against his grip as he pulls you in the opposite direction.

“I haven’t fed in weeks, and my favorite meal is gone because of you.”

You shut your eyes tight, trying to push away the images of the woman who haunts your dreams.

“So you’re taking her place.”

“What?!” You're doing what now? “J-Jin said-”

“Are you his parrot now? Well lucky for me, tonight Jin went to go speak with Yoongi,” he says smugly.

You step into Jimin’s room. The dresser was covered with random items that don’t seem personalized to the vampire’s taste at all. Unread books, countless jewelry pieces, and a plethora of knives.

“Don’t even think about it, pet.” Jimin warns as he sees your eyes stop on the sleek blades.

“I wasn’t,” you mutter. It was the truth.

There’s no window in his room, no mirrors, just wood furniture, covered in scratches and dents of aggression. The areas of his room, like his dresser, are littered with things, so many discarded things. The room is soulless, like Jimin, it feels like a lavish prison cell.

“So,” you don’t look at Jimin, instead you look at his things, trying to find some sense of his personality, “I guess you’re going to finally prove to me you aren’t impotent after all?” you mock. You know you shouldn't poke the beast, but Jimin is like an annoying itch you can't help but scratch.

Jimin scoffs, “Slut, can you go a night without getting fucked?”

“Can you?!”

Jimin smirks. “I'm almost going to miss that.”

You take a step away from him at his words. “What are you going to do?”

“Jin is too sentimental, he only skims the surface of his powers now. There is another aspect to a memory pull, it’s much more fun. Can you guess what that is, pet?”

You’ve been guessing and trying to make sense of everything since that night. “That woman's memories, you took them, right?”

Jimin claps his hands, slow and mocking at your right answer. “It’s not a simple task, but she was particularly compliant,” he bites his lip in memory. “She was much more willing to part with her past, her previous life wasn’t so great if you were wondering...some would see what I did as a blessing.”

The vampire stands in front of you cupping your cheek. “But I’m sure you...” his hand follows your jaw, “...will put up an impressive fight.”

You let out the breath you've been holding, if you can do what happened to Jin, maybe you can find something you can use against him. Maybe his torture won’t work on you...!

“You’re going to regret this,” you say, pulling your head away from his hand.

He laughs, “I regret not doing this sooner.” Jimin was tired of Jin's special treatment of you, all these new rules, all the things you've gotten away with when he wasn't even allowed to drink from you, follow his most basic of urges, it was annoying, you were annoying.

You feel exposed under his penetrating stare, you turn your head and hold your wrist out to Jimin, “Well? Go right ahead.” You think the inevitable has been dragged out long enough.

He looks at your wrist, lips rolling over his tongue as his fingers glide over the thin skin, and then he pulls you closer so you stumble into him, yelping. He looks up and down your body, his hair brushing against your forehead, the strands ticking you. You're supposed to hate each other, but the way he holds you and touches you, it’s too intimate, too rough and too soft for you to make sense of it.

“Do you have to ruin all the dresses we give you?” He noticed the slit you cut into your too long dress.

“Why are they so tight?” you say, watching his eyes as they roam over your exposed skin, feeling hot from his attention. You try to keep your thoughts calm, pure, so he doesn't notice what he's doing to you. “I can barely walk around.”

“Then maybe you should stay on your back,” his voice low and taunting. His free hand reaches for the torn fabric and as quick as a flash Jimin tears the slit higher up to your hip bone.

Your hands attempt to pull the slit closed in vain, and Jimin takes the opportunity to pull at the neckline of your dress, ripping the line even lower, exposing your cleavage to him. You slap him across the face, like you would have done any other man, but Jimin is not just a man, not anymore. He turns his face around and you see his fangs against his curled lip, he looks delighted, like you gave him just the reaction he wanted.

He grabs you around the waist and you feel vertigo as you're thrown across the room. You land on his bed, sinking into the mattress, and before you can scream Jimin is hovering over you.

“Your foreplay sucks.”

Jimin pulls your head back, laughing down at you.

"Get it?" you struggle to speak, “because you're a-”

You scream as Jimin finally bites the column of your neck, his body weight pressing down on you. Pain erupts and you can barely breath. His bite is somehow even more painful than Jin's, you hit his shoulders, pull at his shirt, trying to push him away to release you.

---

“What’s your name?” You can barely hear Seokjin’s voice over the trumpets of the band.

“Jimin.” He yells back.

“Military man,” the bartender nods to his uniform, “This one is on the house.”

“Thanks, um?”

“Seokjin.”

Jimin pulls his bottom lip in, studying the handsome stranger. “Thank you Seokjin.”

---

Jimin pulls away from your neck, breathing heavy. You laugh, and laugh, feeling exhilarated, eyes meeting the vampire while you laugh again. Did you just beat Jimin at his own game?

Your laughter stops when Jimin flips you on your stomach. His fingers dig into your hair, bending your back up to meet his chest. You grunt, jaw slack. “Still waiting to see what you've got, Jimin.”

You’re confusing. Jimin doesn’t even smell fear on you anymore, even when he tightens his grip. You must be feeling overwhelmed, like Jimin, who is trying to make sense of the long forgotten emotions coursing through him right now.

For the first time in a long time, Jimin feels uncomfortable, struggling to make sense of your taunts and why you aren’t submitting. Something unpleasant inside him stirs. He’ll make you regret acting like this, he’ll break you in half until you beg for mercy. He’ll do it. So why isn’t he doing it?

“Well?!”

“Fuck, you’re annoying,” he hisses into your ear.

“So I’ve been told, military man.”

Jimin knows you're goading him, yet still, blind rage courses through his veins, stinging his chest. He rips the back of your dress, tearing it down the center.

Was Jimin fulfilling a twisted fantasy you had ever since you saw Namjoon and Seokjin fuck that nameless woman senseless? Could you admit that to yourself as you feel your core become wetter as he presses his hand down onto your bare back.

You push up on your elbows, but Jimin uses his strength to push you back down, holding your head down. His sharp hearing can hear your muffled moan and the unpleasant feeling in the center of his body twists again.

"You like this?" He groans, affected by the smell of your lust. “Fuck, you act like such a desperate slut.” He palms his dick, needing a release. His moans fill your ears as his stokes himself to the state of your body.

You feel his spit hit your skin, his hard length running along your center, covering his member in your juices and his saliva. His tip teasing your entrance, you push back into him seeking more, and his hands hold you down, making you all the more feverish.

Your arousal hits the vampire’s senses in waves, affecting him more than usual as he tightens his grip to keep you still, focusing on the blood blotting your neck. His cock runs up your slit until he rests over your second hole. You look over your shoulder, prepared to taunt the vampire even more, but his dark expression, filled with carnal desire, slightly unraveled, entirely captivated by you, sends your thoughts into a tailspin.

Jimin pushes his thick length into you, stretching you over his cock, inch by inch until your whole body spasms.

Jimin stayed pressed up against you, a small kindness, his fingers circling your aching core. “Don’t-” you moan, and he stills against you, “d-don’t hold back.”

"I wasn't intending to."

And he doesn't. Your orgasm wracks through you, you feel so full and empty as your walls clench down on nothing while he pounds himself into you relentlessly. You start to shake in overstimulation. His thrusts are wild, your neck is there, you smell so delicious and he's so close to release.

When you come close again, at the peak of arousal, he bites down on your soft skin. You yell, clenching around him even tighter.

“This is your fault.”

You see Tae laugh, so unlike his usual sweet boisterous laugh, he chuckles deep, fighting against the chains around him, his wrist markings glowing gold, then deep orange like fire. “No, this is your fault. You were supposed to kill Jin, we could have had everything we ever wanted. How could you betray me like this?”

Jimin’s hands go lax around your waist, so you put yours over his, holding on as tight as you can.

You see Seokjin and Jimin under a street lamp, you and Jimin watch the way the flies dance around the bulb.

“You’re a vampire.”

Seokjin tenses, so Jimin continues, “I saw you with that girl, the regular with black hair.” His eyes scan the man beside him.

“And what are you going to do now?” Seokjin’s words come out low, almost menacing. Jimin laughs.

“Would you believe me if I said you’re not the strangest thing I’ve seen?” Breaking the awkward silence, Jimin brings an arm over Seokjin’s broad shoulders, pulling the man into a headlock. “I forgive you for always ditching me for lunch.” He teases.

Jimin releases his mouth from your neck.

You shift beneath him to look up at the vampire. Jimin’s bite wasn’t as meticulous as Seokjin’s who knew how to expertly pierce an artery, so you weren’t profusely bleeding, but the wounds still ached. Seokjin has the precision of a doctor, Jimin is messy, wild, his entire front is covered in blood. Jimin's eyes were unfocused, you could tell he was lost in thought.

“Jimin?”

“Enough,” his voice shakily commands you. “I’ll just take the part of you that keeps doing this.”

He pierces your exposed flesh once more concentrating harder.

---

Jimin is tiny. His head reaches the older woman’s knee as he hugs her leg. He points to the butterfly, wings fluttering back and forth slowly as it sits on a leaf Jimin found.

“I fixed it, see!”

“My beautiful son,” she kisses the top of his head, laughing at his cuteness. She looks weak and fragile, sunken eyes and skin pale.

“I’ll fix you too, I’ll learn!” He hugs her leg tighter. She soothes her little boy, knowing it’s already too late for her.

“Grow up to be a doctor, heal people.”

---

He pulls away from you. His eyes look wild, like an animal’s, caught. “Stop looking into my mind!” He screams.

“I can’t control it!” You’re just as stunned as Jimin, you never expected to see a version of himself so innocent.

Jimin holds you down by the neck, he doesn’t squeeze your neck enough to stop your breathing, even though he should, he thinks, he can’t do it, he can’t bring himself to tighten his grip.

“Do it again and I’ll fucking kill you,” he lies.

“I said I can’t control it, asshole!” you struggle against his hold, “Maybe if you weren’t so weak-minded-”

Jimin roars. Pressing his weight back on you, his fangs strike at the sensitive flesh between your collar bone. Your first kiss was so special to you, you could still remember it to this day. You were young, awkward and shy, he was your first crush, a cute boy, his features reminded you of one of your favorite idols at the time, who was-

What did he look like? What was his name? When did he kiss you again? It was after school, you think, you can’t remember. How did he kiss you? That’s right, it was an awkward kiss, because you and him were...friends? Weren’t you? You can’t remember, you can’t remember what had happened, it was so special to you and now it’s gone.

Jimin sucks harder onto your skin, pulling more blood out of you. He took it, your first kiss, you know he did. Jimin, if that sweet little boy could see himself now.

You start to cry. You cry for your stolen first kiss.

His teeth sink into your neck again, pulling more blood greedily, trying to silence the memories he found with the steady beating of your pulse instead. He drags his fangs across your skin, more blood releases, so much blood lost already that everything spins around you. “Jimin!”

He covers your mouth to stop your protests. Jimin seems determined to lose himself again, ravaging your body with more bites. So you close your eyes and your thoughts drift to the young boy.

“Good job!” the soft voice of his mothers fills both your minds. Jimin holds a syringe full of milk to a tiny kitten’s mouth. “You have to take care of her now, remember, treat her gently. There you go!”

“She’s so cute, momma, I love her.”

“You both have to watch out for each other when I’m not around, okay?”

You can hear Jimin whimper into your neck.

You feel sadness wash over you. He could have been a doctor, he could have been a healer. He is, in some twisted way, he been given the gift of healing, and yet he uses it to inflict pain. Even if he wanted to pretend he didn’t experience it, you felt the love that he held so dearly for his mother as a small child. You can hear his laughter, he had the same laugh as his mother.

‘Jimin, I’m going to save you too.’

---

You wake up healed, your head pounding. You look around, Jimin lies next to you, he’s out like a light. You both look like you’ve been in a massacre. Your clothes shredded and blood everywhere. You move away from him, his features look angelic, but his skin is covered in dried blood, like a killer. What the hell happened? You take a step and your legs buckle, you cry out when you knee hits the hard floor. The vampire next to you sways, moves across the bed until he falls completely out of it, groaning.

You crawl your body to the other side of the bed where he is still lying on the floor.

When you look at him again, meeting his eyes, you come to a realization. You know his secret.

“Oh Jimin...”

“Y/n...” his voice is shaky, he covers his face with his hands and his soft cries fill the room. You struggle to get up, everything feels tilted on an axis. You sway and hit furniture as you make your way to the door.

There’s a ringing in your head that won’t leave. You follow the halls down to Seokjin’s office, a place Jimin has been so many times before, retracing his footsteps from a memory of his.

Taehyung’s spell worked just as he said, opening the door to Seokjin’s office, the bright markings glowed and then burnt away from your skin, leaving a trace of ash. ‘Taehyung,’ you’ll have to deal with him later, you think. First you need to get away, as far from the island as you can and try to find Jimin’s family.

There’s a large door to the right of his desk, wood an alien shade of purple. The high pitched ringing in your ears makes the room sway again, but you’re able to grip the handle and fall through to the other side.

---

You sit on the floor of a tiny shop. There’s intricate gold pieces; statues, vases, piled high on countless of glass shelves, every inch of the shop is filled with items, it reminds you of someone but you can’t remember who. You can’t even remember how you got here. Where the hell are you? It feels dangerous, it feels wrong.

You move to a corner and hug your knees to your body. ‘Where am I? Wait, who am I?’ You try to remember anything, any memory from your childhood, from your adulthood. And the past five minutes replays in your mind instead. Gold jewelry in glass cases and the feeling that you shouldn't be here, and a deep voice in your head whispers, “y/n.”

Y/n, is that your name? Your hands skim over the fabric of your torn dress, looking for pockets, looking for anything that might explain something to you. You need to get out of here, you need to leave, but you don’t even know where you are.

You hear a ding, a bell alerting an opening door. You hear a man speak to another. You run out the door while the man behind you lets out a surprised yell to come back.

You run and you run, past buildings past people. You’re barefoot, your clothes hang off you. Eventually you stop. Eventually you decide to ask an old couple who looks unthreatening where you are while you unsuccessfully try not to burst into tears. The old woman holds your hands and strokes your arm to calm you while the husband calls the police.

At first they suspected you were a victim of abuse. They took you to a hospital. The doctors performed several tests on you, each one worse than the last. You had no old memories, and all your new ones were horrible. Clinical, painful, strangers prodding and poking your body. Your dreams were filled of palm trees and warm sunshine on your skin, a sparkling blue ocean, laughter, happiness. So you slept most of the day.

Then one day, detectives came with nurses and they told you who you were. That it took so long because you had been pronounced dead over a month ago. Your parents were on a flight to come get you. You listened to them explain the events hoping to have a jog of memory but nothing comes. They talk about the boat, the crash, no survivors. Always another horrible new piece of information. When will it end?

When your parents picked you up, a lovely man and woman who you tried desperately to remember, the hospital staff gave you a bag with the clothes they found you in. There was a gold pocket watch, an item you didn’t remember having, but you didn’t remember anything, so it didn’t surprise you. You told them to throw everything away, but you kept the watch with you.

You have to stay with them, everything in your life had been reduced to a few boxes they had kept. You lost your home, your identity, you had no money, no job, the only thing you acquired during this whole time was a death certificate.

You start remembering your childhood, slowly at first, a memory here and there, a fall and cut knee, a tea party with stuffed animals, a school field trip, and then years at a time.

You found yourself again. You remembered who you were, your entire life up until you didn’t, the memories fracturing at the end, and the harder you tried to remember how you could have ended up in a different country across the world, your mind would construct horrible images instead, blood, drowning, and death. You couldn’t bare to think of it.

---

“Y/n!” you make your way into the coffee shop, you reconnected with some old childhood friends now that you were back in your hometown.

“Hey, oh my god, who is this big cutie?” Your friend’s dog barks excitedly while you fluff the black fur on his head. He’s so cute, his ears flop to the side with each happy bark.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You’re...well you’re crying?” She looks at you concerned.

You touch your wet cheeks. Why? You don’t know when it started, but as your friend’s dog nudges his head into your palm for more pets, your heart aches.

---

One night, a crazy thought enters your mind. You want to go back to that shop. You want answers. You leave a note for your parents telling them your intentions and pack your freshly made identification cards and travel documents into a suitcase.

So here you are again, in a foreign country, alone again, filled with purpose that seems to pull you in despite how terrified you are.

You scroll through your phone while you lie on the hard foreign hotel mattress. You open a map of where you are on your phone, and zoom out until you see water.

There's islands around the peninsula, you zoom into each one and search each name on your phone, learning each habitat, who lives there, if it is accessible. You do that to pass the time until you fall asleep.

“It’s too dangerous.”

You reach for the merman, grabbing at Yoongi’s shirt and pulling him closer, your eyes meeting his. “Explain.”

Yoongi is taken aback, licking his lips trying to think of a good way to start. "We made a blood pact to protect this island from the outside world, it's indiscoverable and once anyone does come here, they can't leave."

"Why..." you let go of his shirt, but he stays close, "Why would you do that?"

"Think, just think what you humans have done to the world...the others needed some place safe to go to and I-" the merman huffs, "At the time, I thought...well, they were...at the time I didn't mind sharing the island with them. "

Your fingers roll over the bracelets Yoongi put on you. "That was nice of you." The merman glares at you in return.

"You know, they'd come here, we all spent time together." Yoongi's stare is faraway and distant. "In the beginning, at least."

"I-I'm sorry." You hold his hand, and he stares at your fingers only briefly before shaking you off.

"Whatever, I'm surprised they didn't start trying to tear each others throats out sooner," He mutters. "We had portals of course to leave when we wanted to, but one day Namjoon and those dumb dogs destroyed all the portals-"

"What?! Why would they do that?"

"I don't know all the details, but I believe Namjoon did it to protect the rest of his pack. I can respect him for that...but the problem is they trapped us all here like idiots!"

"Is that why you're helping Jin and Jimin?"

"What? To get back at Namjoon? Pfft no. Jin came to me with a deal. He looked off, sick, and he offered me anything I wanted, so I helped him. That's it."

"So technically you can leave the island?"

"I can swim the waters, but I can only go so far, the magic always pulls me back eventually, it's useless to try," he mutters.

You hum.

"Anyways, what Namjoon doesn't know is Jin used some leftover magic and created a portal. Jin has lots of friends that serve him, owe him favors, he uses it as a delivery system."

"So you think if I?"

"That's the only portal I know of, but the magic is dangerous, the vampires put so many protections on their house, they won't even go through it themselves, there has to be a reason, right?"

"I...I'll take my chances."

"They wont even chance going through it, and you will?"

"Yes! And what if I can find a way to break the spell? Then you can finally leave! Yoongi, you have to let me at least try!"

"You're going to get yourself killed one way or another," Yoongi scoffs.

"No, I refuse to believe that."

"You're impossible to understand."

"I'm going through that portal. Then I'll come back for you."

"Wait, you'll come back?" Yoongi asks.

"Well, yeah, if you help me, a deal is a deal. Yoongi please, help me come up with a plan and I swear to you I'll come back with your payment. You're the only one who can search the ocean, you just have to find me again, so what do you say merman?"

"I'll find you again."

---

Your alarm wakes you up. 'What a weird dream,' it felt so realistic. Like all your dreams, the more you think about it, the less you remember, but that man's scarred eyes, whose name you forgot already, they stay with you.

You brush your teeth and wash your face. You notice something as you rinse off your skin. 'What the hell is that?' You inspect the gold writing behind your ear. Taking some more soap, you work to remove it but it doesn’t come off, the glittery ink is permanent. You rubbed your skin raw trying to take it off, it didn’t look like a tattoo, but nothing you did would get rid of the gold markings. You pace around your hotel room, things are getting weirder and you start to feel a nagging sense of dread, but there's a voice inside you that says to keep going until you find the answers you are looking for.

You don't walk right into the shop at first, instead casing out the place. You drink coffee at a nearby restaurant and keep watch on the shop. There are not many visitors, and those who do enter are not who you would expect. You would think maybe some older people who were looking for vintage items would decide to enter, or eccentric younger people, but it was almost always a intimidatingly large man entering, bringing items in rather than taking items out.

You’ve gotten into the habit of playing with the gold chain around your neck, the gold pocket watch had become a permanent accessory.

It's almost closing time for the restaurant, so you reluctantly make your way to the shop, and walk in after a group of tourists.

The shop looks different than what you remember, new items litter the shelves. You hide behind the large cases, studying the objects, until you come across something that makes you hesitate. A necklace with a large red gem hidden behind a thick glass case with a lock.

“You’re that girl! You...you came back.” Your head turns into the direction of the voice, a very old man stares back at you. He looks at you incredulously while you can only stare back dumbly. “C'mon, let’s go,” the old man says, he grabs your elbow. “Seokjin should be awake by now.”

“Let me go! You can’t keep me here!” You pull away from his grasp, your hand tightens around the amulet.

He laughs at you amused, giving you some space. “You walked into my shop, did you not? You don’t want to talk to Seokjin?”

“I…” Do you?! Would he know what happened to you, why does it make you shiver hearing his name.

Wait...you look down at your hand, to make sure you didn't imagine it, and there you see the necklace in the middle of your palm, heavy in your hand, you hide it behind your back, looking over your shoulder to the empty case, the shock of it makes you freeze.

The man looks at you cautiously, “Why are you here, girl? Are you here for Seokjin?”

Seokjin. That name fills you with dread. A vision of a man flashes across your mind only briefly, “I d-don’t know.” The old man raises an eyebrow at you. “Stay here, girl. I'll be right back.”

Where is he going? What is he going to do with you? Your mind spins and the skin behind your ear stings. 'Now y/n. Do it now.' that deep voice is back. You panic when the old man comes back with two others.

'Use the watch, y/n. Use the watch. NOW!'

---

“On one condition, just one.” Jimin hisses.

As you lie on the ground you feel like the weight of the world just crashed upon you. Your chest feels like it’s going to explode, there’s a ringing in your ears, the skin behind your ear still burns hot.

Jimin noticed the sudden shift in your demeanor, the way your heart begins to race as you start to break down. Every day, starting on the night your boat was capsized, replays in your mind as you start to remember your time on the island. You see Taehyung, who looks at you and then his eyes go wide, realizing the situation, eyes ablaze with growing excitement.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Taehyung’s deep baritone voice breaks the silence. You can only take in shaky breaths as your tear filled eyes try to focus on where you are. You traveled back in time, precisely twelve weeks to the second, you’re back on the island, thrown back into your nightmare like you never left. The only difference now is your left hand clutches a second pocket watch, now broken, and your right hand clutches the amulet.

Jimin looks between you and Taehyung. “What have you done?” Jimin accuses Taehyung, whose eyes haven’t left yours. Taehyung’s lips curve into an encouraging smile, he holds out his chained wrists to you. The vampire whips his head in your direction, but it’s already too late. You throw the amulet into Taehyung’s awaiting hands. You didn’t want to give it to him, but as if Taehyung had pulled strings around your body, you complied to his silent request. The minute the gem touches his skin, the gold markings around his wrists burn away.

The explosion knocks you back meters, everything is broken, everything is dust, you can’t see and your body aches. You hear screaming and yelling and groans of pain. You crawl through the debris searching for a way out.

Red light flashes through the smoke. You choose to crawl towards it, hearing Jin’s loud booming voice.

Taehyung pulls you back, his body behind you like it just materialized out of thin air. "C’mon y/n. Let’s escape."

“This...This is all your fault!” He looked surprised by your reaction.

“What you think you know, you’re mistaken.” He lifts you to your feet easily.

It feels like the air around you is vibrating, your body feels lighter in Taehyung’s presence.

“Please let me go,” you cry.

“Don’t worry, once we escape, we’ll be fine again.” His hand holds your hip tight to his body as he drags you in the direction of the portal.

Seokjin crashes into you both, knocking Taehyung away from you. You hear their struggle, and you’re back to crawling away through the smoke helplessly. Your fingers hit the hard cold gem of the amulet, and you wrap the chain around your fingers.

You can’t remember how you found the stairs, the wood half shattered, or the exit, blown wide open by magic, you can’t remember leaving the mansion, you just remember once your bare feet hit the soft grass outside you ran and you didn’t stop running, until you heard the sounds of waves. You ran until water hit your feet and then you screamed.

---

YAY I FINISHED THIS MONSTER OF A CHAPTER (Get it? I’ll shut up). Thank god, I felt as trapped in this chapter as y/n in that damn room :’). Okay, but now we’re getting somewhere! What do you think is going to happen now? Looks like this story might finally be headed off the island :D. I’m excited!

Questions to ponder for the next chapter: What is Jimin’s secret? Looks like there was a good reason for keeping Taehyung locked away, so what is his ultimate goal? What did Taehyung do to you? And why are Jin and Namjoon no longer friends?! Those are just some of the questions floating around in my mind as I am writing the next chapter, now do you have any questions you want answers to? Let me know! <3

[bullshxtvixen]

Big Hoodies and Cute Underwear

✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *: ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Characters: Kuroo, Ushijima and Bokuto

Request: Hiii could you do a HC for Kuroo, Bokoto, and Ushijima walk in on their s/o playing video games in just a big hoodie and cute underwear. Also your work is amazing.

Request Status: CLOSED.

Warnings: 18+, spanking, mention of ass play, slight praise kink, rough sex, they’re all kinda dom af.

a/n: thank you to @nyxdelanuit​ for beta reading these for me, check out her writing and give her a followwww.

✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *: ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Kuroo

☆ He’d had a shitty day so all he wanted to do was come home and find comfort in you.

☆ When he makes his way into the bedroom and you’re laying on your stomach in one of his baggy hoodies and a skimpy pair of red lace underwear that show off your ass...well he’s already hard on the spot.

☆ “Hey, kitten.” He only gets a mumbled response as you continue on with your game.

☆ If that’s how you were going to be, then he was going to play his own game.

☆ He’ll sit next to you on the bed and give you a quick kiss on the top of your head before placing his hand on your back, rubbing gentle circles over the fabric of his favourite hoodie.

☆ You do your best to ignore his hand and carry on gaming.

☆ Like hell was he going to let you get away with that.

☆ His fingers slip beneath the edge of your underwear, pulling at the fabric and letting it snap back against your skin before tracing the curve of your ass with rough fingers.

☆ You’ll be biting your lip, trying not to lose focus on the game you’re playing.

☆ He smirks when you tense up beneath him as he brushes his fingers between your folds, collecting your juices around his digits before removing them and bringing them to his lips.

☆ Your eyes had left the screen now, instead watching him from the corner of your eye as his tongue slips out to taste your arousal.

☆“You taste so sweet, kitten. I could lap your juices up all day.”

☆ Don’t even think about trying to move towards him because before you can even blink he’s straddling the back of your thighs and forcing your head down into the mattress.

☆ “Did you really think you could ignore me and I’d let you get away with it when you’ve got those thighs and this,” he brings a palm down harshly on your ass, “on display for me to see? I don’t think so, kitten.”

☆ Then he pushes his shorts down slightly to release his thick cock, precum already leaking from his swollen tip.

☆ He’ll take it in his hand, giving it a few light strokes before slapping it against your ass. He knows you love it when he does that.

☆ Underwear? Those are pushed to the side before he’s giving a quick snap of his hips and sheathing his full length inside you, your velvet walls protesting as they’re forced to take all of him at once.

☆ Your half moan/half scream is muffled by the mattress as he presses your face further into it before he starts to move inside you, hard thrusts that reach so deliciously deep that they brush against your sweet spot every time.

☆“You should know better than to tease me, kitten.”

☆ Then he really started to move, his hands spreading your cheeks apart so he can watch as he buries himself deep inside your sopping cunt.

☆ I wouldn’t put it past him to slip his thumb into your ass, applying pressure inside your rear, stretching both of your holes so well. You’re nothing but a moaning mess beneath him as the sensations overwhelm you.

☆ That’ll teach you to ignore him for a video game.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ

Ushijima

☆ It takes a lot to get Ushi riled up, but when he comes home after some practice games to find you sat at the end of the bed, one of his hoodies dwarfing your frame as his eyes trail up your bare legs that are hanging off the edge as you bite your lip in concentration...well, even he’s going to get a little flustered.

☆ Were you even wearing underwear beneath the hoodie? He wanted to find out.

☆ He’ll take a seat behind you on the bed, placing a leg on either side of you, trapping you between his large form.

☆ His hands will make their way to your shoulders, gently massaging them. He knows you’ve probably been slumped over playing most of the day and he’s rewarded with a satisfied moan as you melt under those large hands.

☆“Mmm, your hands feel so good, ‘Toshi.”

☆ When you lean back into his broad chest, he’ll wrap his arms around your front, pulling you closer to him so you can feel how much he wants you as his erection is evident against your ass.

☆ You pretend not to notice though because you’re about to fight the final boss, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to concentrate for long with the way his hands were moving.

☆ He’ll let you have your fun though, he’s not in any rush. Plus he still wants to know if you’ve got panties on underneath the hoodie.

☆ His fingers move to play with the hem, his knuckles brushing against your thighs as he does.

☆ Don’t think he doesn’t notice how you press them together or how your breath catches in your throat as he allows one of his fingers to run up the length of your clothed slit.

☆ So you were wearing underwear after all. Shame. Not that a thin piece of material was going to stop his plans.

☆ He’ll place soft kisses along the side of your neck as his hands move to massage your inner thighs, his thumbs moving so that they gently press against your panties, teasing your dampened folds as he goes.

☆ “Put the controller down, y/n.” a delicate kiss just below your ear. “Good girl.” another kiss a little further down your neck, a reward for doing as you’re told. “Now spread your legs for me.” A final harsh kiss is placed where your neck meets your shoulder as his hands guide your legs so they’re hooked over the top of his.

☆ This is how he likes you, spread nice and wide for him and so so vulnerable as his fingers leave your thighs and move to slip your underwear to the side.

☆ Prepare for a lot of teasing. He’ll run his fingers up and down your glistening folds before he even thinks of putting his them inside you. The way you lean your head back against is shoulder as your breath comes out in tiny pants makes his cock throb.

☆ When he does slip two of those deliciously thick digits inside you...the way your walls stretch as they try to accommodate them is heaven.

☆ And when he begins pumping them inside of you while the index and middle finger from his other hand begin to make lazy circles on your swollen clit, you can’t help but squirm in his hold as one of your hands reaches back to grasp his neck as your hips grind down against the harsh thrusts of his fingers.

☆“I’m going to cum, ‘toshi, f-fuck.” oh he knows, he can feel your walls beginning to clench around his fingers, but he’s not ready to let you cum yet.

☆ In what feels like a matter of seconds he’s removing his hands from your cunt and using one arm to lift you up while his free hand shuffles his sweats and boxers down to his ankles.

☆ The hoodie is also pulled over your head and thrown to the floor.

☆ Now he’s got you back in the same position, only now he’s holding you higher against his chest as you feel the head of his cock poking at the entrance of your empty pussy.

☆“‘Toshi, please. I need you, please.” He likes the way you beg, it’s like music to his ears.

☆“You better hold onto my knees, love.” You do as you’re told, leaning forward in his arms to grasp his knees, your legs still hooked over his.

☆Then he’s lowering your down onto his girthy cock, groans falling from both of your as he sheaths himself inside of you. You almost cum on the spot at the feel of his tip kissing your cervix.

☆ He’ll give you a second to get used to him before his hands are in your hips and he’s guiding you up and down his length, his strength making it easy for him to move you at a fast pace as he rolls his hips up into you.

☆ You’ll be left a moaning mess for the rest of the night as he makes you cum at least three times in that position alone.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ

Bokuto

☆ Energetic baby boy cannot stand being ignored. Like it physically causes him pain to have you sitting there in a baggy hoodie that’s so big on you that it’s slipping from your shoulder, and his favourite pair of black lace underwear are poking out.

☆ No. He’s not happy at all.

☆ “Baaaaaabe, please give me attention!” Poor whiny baby. You ignore him though as you lean forward on the sofa as you spot an enemy sniper about to take out on our your team mates.

☆ Bo will just huff and sit back with his arms folded as he stares at your thighs, thinking about how much he wants to bury his face between them.

☆ His thought have him hard as a rock now and he slowly starts to palm himself through his workout shorts.

☆ He needs you so bad and when the hoodie rides up and exposes your scantily covered ass to him...well he can’t take it anymore.

☆ The remote is ripped from your hands and thrown onto the floor as he grasps your legs and spins you so that your head is against the arm of the sofa as he presses you legs to your chest, his hard on pressing against the curve of your ass.

☆ “Kou-“ he presses your legs tighter against you, the air forces to leave your body as he hovers over you.

☆ “I told you I needed you, little bird.” hips are placed against yours, his cock still straining against his shorts as he rubs himself between your thighs to create some friction.

☆ You both suck in sharp breathes at the sparks of pleasure that shoot through you.

☆ Then he’s moving so his head is between your thighs, your legs still thrown over his shoulder.

☆ You won’t get a warning before his tongue is pressed flat against your covered slit, the pressure on your clit causing your hips to buck into his face.

☆ He’ll pull away for a split second to take your underwear off, the crotch damp from his tongue and your arousal, before bunching them up and holding them out to you.

☆ “Open.” He can’t be fucking serious. “Come on little bird, open wide for me.” You do as he says, opening your mouth so he can stuff your bunched up panties inside.

☆ He smirks as you before returning between your legs, immediately thrusting his tongue between your pussy lips, “Better keep those in your mouth, we don’t want the neighbours hearing what we’re getting up to.”

☆ And fuck, you’re already so wet for him, it makes him unbearably hard as he realises it’s him that makes you feel that way.

☆ His renewed confidence has him easing his fingers to you, stretching and scissoring inside your wet heat as his lips attach themselves to your clit, biting and sucking the tight bundle of nerves as your back arches from the sofa, your muffled moans filling his ears.

☆“You look so good with my fingers inside you, babe.”

☆ You’ve cum twice before he comes up for air, your arousal coating his chin. He doesn’t bother to wipe it off before he pulls your panties from your mouth, his mouth crashing against yours as you taste yourself on his lips.

☆ Then he’s pulling back and releasing his cock from his shorts, the prominent vein beneath his shaft that rubs against your walls in the most intoxicating way is visible as his length stands flush against his stomach.

☆ “Kou, fuck me. Please. I want you inside me, make me feel good the only way you can.” You know he can’t resist being praised.

☆ because God, when you praise him like that there’s no way he’s holding back.

☆“Say it again, y/n.” It’s barely a whisper as he hooks his arms under your legs.

☆ So you do, but before you can finish he’s filling you. One hard thrust and he’s completely sheathed inside you, your needy cunt clenching around him as he presses your legs further against your chest.

☆ So deep. So full. It’s pure bliss.

☆ Then he’s moving, hips crashing into yours as his balls smack against your ass. He’s got you practically folded in half so he can reach as deep as possible within you, he needs you to feel all of him.

☆ You better hold his face in your hands and whisper all sorts of praise against his lips as his hard thrusts send jolts of pleasure exploding through your body. Each word of praise has his balls tightening further and his thrusts getting harder as he pounds into your soaking pussy, lewd sounds filling the air.

☆ Then you’re both cumming, you with your eyes squeezed shut as your nails dig into his back as he’s spilling inside you, his forehead pressed against yours as his warm cum coats your walls.

☆ A soft ‘iloveyou’ is whispered against your chest before he’s cuddling into you and falling asleep with you wrapped in his arms.

☆ If he was going to fuck you like that, maybe you’d have to ignore him more often.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ

these were so much fun to write omgggggg. i hope you enjoyed reading them as much as i enjoyed writing them <3

feel free to join my haikyuu server on discord here x

[genshin-obsessed]

Your blog is everything I wanted and more. Im a lurker for your writings ahaha if you can guess who i am 👀

How about the guys reacting to s/o's death. Can be a group writing but if its too much, just Diluc, Childe, Razor and Kaeya would be nice. I think they would have interesting reactions >:3

First of all, Anon. I LOVE YOU. I wanted to write this out but thought it might be a bit too much but then you went and requested it!! I guess I have no choice but to write this out! >:) (That’s also why I did all the characters) second. Guess who you are o: may I get a hint? I have 2 people in my mind tho o: Warnings: Death, mentions of blood, angst. Pure angst.

Sidenote: The woman in this is my OC named Toxin! Whenever I need a really big, bad villain, she’s my go-to! That’s all!

Includes: Aether, Kaeya, Venti, Diluc, Razor, Xiao, Xingqiu, and Childe!

Scaramouche & Zhongli Here | Part 2 Here

You Die!

You ran as fast as your feet would carry you, desperate for an escape. A scream erupted from your lips as the ground shook beneath you, causing you to stumble and fall over. You had received an emergency request to help fight… someone. The request wasn’t very detailed but someone needed help and you couldn’t turn your back on them. So, you went ahead and tried to help.

You should’ve been careful. You should’ve brought help. But you didn’t and you were paying for your stupidity. The person that you were fighting was strong. She was tall, pale, and had long black hair. Her unearthly glowing green eyes were terrifying. She was fast and all of your attacks were unable to touch her.

As you ran, only one thought crossed your mind. The smiling image of your boyfriend. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you tried to run. How you wished you could be in his arms, feeling safe and sound.

As you ran out of the forest and down the field, the woman appeared in front of you, catching you in her arms and stabbing you with a poison dagger. You shrieked as your hands curled around her clothes. The sharp pain turned into a burning sensation and you looked up at her. Her face was inches away and she smirked, her eyes glowing bright by the second.

“Finally. But you’re not the only one I wanted to break.” What? What did she mean? Her head turned to the left and you followed her gaze and the second you saw what she was looking at, your heart shattered.

The woman pulled the dagger out and it seemed to vanish as she smirked at your boyfriend. The tears slid down your cheeks as you weakly reached out to him for help.

“(F/N)!” His heart stopped as he watched the woman disappear and you fall to the floor. He sprinted to you, picking you up in his arms as blood poured out of the wound. “H-hey! Hey, keep your eyes open! J-Just stay awake!” He held your head against his chest, trying to calm himself, but how could he? You were bleeding out in front of him. 

He looked down and ran his fingers along your cheek as your skin started to turn purple. The poison had taken its effect and it was moving fast. You were leaving, you would leave him just like Lumine left him. He was gonna be alone all over again.

“A-Aether… I-I l-love you.”

“I love you too! You’ll be fine, everything’s g-gonna be ok.” Who was he kidding? You weren’t going to make it. But he couldn’t admit it. Aether still had yet to find Lumine and he’d never gotten over losing her. You, you were his light. You were his guiding start. You were his moon, his everything. 

To think that he could lose you? No, no! He didn’t want it. He didn’t want a world without you. A world without you was pure torture. So why? Why was the universe so hellbent on taking things away from him? Why did it demand everything precious to him?!

Why you? 

A pained cry left his lips as your hand fell to your side and that light disappeared from your eyes. “N-no. No, no, no, no! W-wake up! Please wake up! Do-don’t leave me! Don’t you leave me too! Not like this! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!” He held your lifeless body against him, his head pressed against your chest. He couldn’t hear it… he couldn’t hear your heartbeat.

“No… NO!” He ran as fast as his feet could carry him and caught you before you hit the ground. The woman had disappeared but he didn’t care. You were… you were dying! How could he stop it? He wanted to stop the bleeding, he wanted to stop the way your color was changing, he wanted to stop time!

“K-Kaeya… h-how-”

“I was told to come here. A messenger came to me and said you called me and told me to come here.” He explained, taking your cold hand into his, pressing a kiss against it.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“No. Don’t apologize and don’t close your eyes. Please, just stay up a little longer.” He wanted to pick you up and run to the nearest doctor, but he knew… it wasn’t worth it. He wouldn’t make it. He’d never felt so worthless and weak. He swore to protect you and keep you safe and now that you needed him… he was useless.

“T-tired…” Slowly, your eyes closed and your hand fell limp in his. Kaeya’s eyes widened as the tears slid down his cheek.

“(f-f/n)? B-baby! No, wait! Don’t do this! Pl-please no!” He took your hand and pressed it against his cheek, but the second he loosened his grip, it fell. Kaeya shook his head, tears flooding down his cheek as a scream erupted from his mouth. “(F/N)!!!”

Slow. He was too slow. Why couldn’t he be fast enough?! That woman, he knew her. He knew her and he vowed to hunt her down and tear her to shreds. But right now…

Venti picked you up with trembling hands, letting his now bloodied hands touch your cheek. He couldn’t even talk, his voice quivered as he looked down into your eyes. No. This wasn’t happening. You weren’t going to leave him like this.

“H-hey, love. E-everything’s going to be just fine. You’re fine.” He tried to keep his smile up but it was so damn hard when he knew the truth. He couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t even lie to himself. You were slipping away and all he could do was watch. He knew he was the weakest of all archons but why? Why couldn’t he be a little bit stronger to save you.

“I-I wa-wanna sl-sleep-”

“NO!” He frowned and pressed a kiss to your lips. “No, don’t sleep. Not yet. Just stay awake a little longer and then we can both sleep together tonight.” You weakly nodded, but you couldn’t stay awake any longer. You felt like you were moving, but your body was slowly going numb, until everything disappeared. “(f/n)? (f-f/n)? H-hey! Hey this isn’t a joke! WAKE UP! WAKE UP, PLEASE, PLEASE WAKE UP!”

The second he saw the woman step away from you, a fiery phoenix flew towards her, but she’d disappeared before it could hit her. Diluc ran to you as he watched your body fall to the ground.

He fell to his knees and quickly picked you up, shaking you a little. There was something that snapped inside. He’d always kept his composure, but after seeing what had happened, his emotions burst out of him. He wasn’t in control of anything. He couldn’t control his thoughts, emotions… or your death.

“It’ll be fine! Everything’s fine!” He said, pressing his hand to the wound. You winced at the pain as your skin started to turn purple and blood spilled out of your mouth.

“I-I’m so-sorry.” He shook his head, taking your face in his hands.

“No. I’m sorry. I sh-should’ve gotten here faster.” He was still trying to convince himself you were going to be fine, but deep down, he knew the truth. He knew the ugly truth that was coming up.

“D-Diluc… y-you’re pretty.” His eyes clenched shut at your words as a tear slid down his cheek.

“Don’t leave. Th-there are so many things I-I want to do with you. Pl-please don’t leave me. Wh-what d-do I do?” You smiled weakly at him.

“Y-you b-be the Darknight H-hero…” He scoffed and looked down at you.

“Without you… I’m nothing.” You wanted to say more, you wanted to deny his words, but you were so tired. Slowly, the world faded away and you could no longer hear his cries. “No! NO! NO!! DON’T DO THIS TO ME! STOP! COME BACK! PLEASE BRING MY (F/N) BACK!”

The wolf within had appeared but he wasn’t able to catch up before the woman disappeared. He ran to you and picked you up, seeing the blood gushing out of the wound.

“N-no! (f/n)!” Tears flooded his eyes as he watched your color turn purple. That woman, she reeked of poison so she must’ve poisoned you.

“Shhh…” You muttered, holding your hand to his cheek. “D-don’t c-cry.” He didn’t know what to do. He felt so lost and helpless, but the worst part… he knew what was coming. He shook his head vehemently and tried to pick you up, but you let out a cry of pain, making him lower you back down.

“I c-can save you!”

“I-it’s ok… it’s ok, Razor. I… I’ll be ok.” He hated those words. He hated everything you were saying so much. Razor adored you, he missed you every second he couldn't be with you and normally, he’d never hate your words. But today… right now, he hated how right you were. He shook his head as the tears slid down his cheeks as he felt you slip away.

“Do-don’t do this t-to me. Not you too… they left me. Why do you want to leave me too?” You weakly tugged him down and made him kiss you, but half way through the kiss, he felt your head fall back and he knew. You were gone.

He knew that woman that had done this to you. He knew her and he was going to make sure she paid. But right now… right now you were more important. Xiao took you in his arms as tears started to fill his eyes. He’d never felt like this before and he hated feeling like this.

You made him feel so powerful, so invincible, so untouchable. But right now, he felt so vulnerable and broken. If he had been faster, if he had just gotten here faster he could’ve saved you. He could’ve been hugging you, seeing your skin bright with life, seeing your glimmering eyes, seeing that dazzling smile. But no, he was a failure.

A sob escaped his lips as he watched you starting to slip away. He pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“D-don’t do this. Pl-please don’t leave me. Y-you pro-promised you w-wouldn’t do this to me!” He looked down at you but you still had that angelic smile on your face. Why? Why would you do this?! You touched his cheek and spoke; your voice was a quiet whisper, but he heard it.

“I-I love y-you, Xiao…” He shook his head and glared at the sky before shutting his eyes. He didn’t want to see it. He didn’t want to see this happening to you.

“I love you too. S-so much.” He felt your body go limp and another sob escaped his lips. “Y-you pr-promised you’d c-come back to me.” He raised your face closer to him and pressed a kiss against your lips. “P-please come back to me. I-I can’t live without you… I do-don’t want to.”

He sprinted down the hill towards where you lay, gathering you in his arms when he was at the bottom. He didn’t know what to do, there was so much blood, so much poison, and no hope. He fell beside you and pressed his hands onto the wound as blood gushed out.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, it’s ok, it’s ok, everything’s just fine!” You winced in pain in your torso, but it didn’t last very long. It only took a minute before you lost feeling in your legs and arms.

“Xingqiu… i-it hurts.”

“I know, I know and I’m so sorry! If I was faster, I could’ve helped you. It’ll be ok, I promise, my love. I won’t stop until you’re taken care of.” Why didn’t he believe his own words? Maybe it was the fading light in your eyes, maybe it was the color draining from your face, maybe it was the sheer amount of blood that poured from the wound… but Xingqiu didn’t have a single ounce of hope. Why? Why was the world doing this to him? Why was it punishing you like this? Did he do something? Did he commit a sin that was so unforgivable that the universe or the gods would punish someone as sweet and amazing as you?

He wanted to cry, but he bit his lip to hold the tears back. His eyes were glossy and his vision was blurry, but he refused to cry. He wasn’t going to show you the fleeting hope in him. He wasn’t going to show you that he was  a liar.

“Xingqiu… w-will y-you g-give me one l-last kiss?” His head snapped to you and he shook his head.

“It won’t be our last kiss! We’ll have more chances. We’ll have so many more chances.” He did kiss you however. It was short and sweet, as he returned to applying pressure onto the wound. His eyes flickered to you for a second before his entire body tensed. You were staring at the sky… with dull, lifeless eyes. “(f-f/n)? H-hey… hey wake up.” He gently shook your shoulders. “Hey, stop. Th-this isn’t funny! I know you like playing tricks on me but this isn’t funny! St-stop!!” Finally, he broke. He laid his head on your chest as his tears started to flow. 

“NO!” Oh, he knew that woman well. He’d worked with her once. She was, indeed, powerful. She was a killing machine and there was a time where he was impressed by her. But right now he felt nothing but pure hatred for her. But that had to wait, because you… you were dying.

Childe pulled you into his arms, holding you against his chest and kissing your head. He was trembling and his emotions were a mess. Tears trailed down his cheeks as he looked down at you. The wound oozed with red and purple, so he knew you’d been poisoned.

“H-hey, darling. You ok? Everything’s just gonna be ok, you hear me?” You gave him a weak nod as you looked down at the wound. However, he took your face and made you look up at him. “No, no. Just look at me. Nothing but me.”

“I-I won’t… I’m tired.”

“HEY! Don’t you dare close those beautiful eyes on me! Everything’s going to be fine! Everything… everything is fine. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare even think about leaving me. Don’t you… don’t do it. Please, god I’m begging you (f/n)! Don’t leave me all alone in this world!”

“I-I ca-can’t stay…”

“Yes, y-yes you can! You can’t leave me, please d-don’t.. I-I don’t know what to do! What am I supposed to do?! Just go on, pretending everything’s ok?! JUST PRETEND LIKE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE DIDN’T LEAVE ME?!”

“Shh… d-don’t get so angry.”

“I-” He sighed, taking in a shaky breath, “I love you so much i-it’s hard to breathe without you. Do-don’t take away m-my reason for li-living.” You didn’t answer. You only weakly smiled before your eyes closed and your head fell back. Childe’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “N-no. No- HEY! No, no, no! Please no!” He held you against his chest as he let out a scream. What else could he do besides cry.

Your boyfriend stood up, holding you tightly in his arms. There was only one thought in his mind as he glared in the direction the woman had gone. 

There was nothing left for him. So he wouldn’t stop; he would relentlessly hunt that woman down and tear her apart completely. That way, she could feel an ounce of his pain.

[wri0thesley]

Nat. NAT. I just saw your concept about naoya "training" his wife by just throwing her in the room and just watching her struggle to defend herself... Until she ofc breaks and begs him to protect her🙈 you have a MASSIVE brain, the biggest and horniest brain nat can you please write this concept for the event😭😭 maybe w 45 and any other dark or spicy add ons that you see fit!

traditional discipline - naoya x fem!reader (3.3k)

naoya has had enough of you, and resorts to an unusual method of discipline.

warnings: not sfw/minors dni. DARK CONTENT. unhealthy relationship/marriage. fearplay, dacryphilia, finger-sucking, cock-sucking, punishment, threat of violence and death. dubious consent. afab reader with fem pronouns. 

[a/n: this concept literally wouldn’t leave me alone. i’m sorry to all of the readers who are naoya’s wife i’m always so horrible to them]

The room goes quiet as Naoya hauls you out of it by your upper arm.

It’s an easy mistake, a simple slip-up; accidentally talking over your husband. But it’s one in a slew you’ve been making recently, despite Naoya thinking that you were polite and well-bred and knew your place. He’s sick of it, to be quite frank; he doesn’t have time to be correcting you when you should already know how to behave.

You’ve done accidental, small things since the two of you were married. Denying him when he rolled you onto your back at night. Not standing quite as far behind him as you should. Pouring tea for other people before him. He’s given you swift reprimand with both his words and his hands, but . . . it’s clearly not sinking into your pretty little head, is it?

He warned you about this.

“Next time,” he’d growled to you, when you’d laughed too loud at a joke that one of his brothers had made and not laughed at one of his, “I’m going to teach you a real lesson.”

He tells you about the ‘training and discipline room’ on the Zenin estate later that night. A room that the family use for honing cursed techniques, both for practising and for learning purposes, when someone needs to be brought down a peg or two. It’s full of cursed spirits – all the way up to grade two, which makes your blood run cold.

Of course, you have cursed energy. You even have a careful little technique; one that would wrap your enemies up in vines, if you’d ever been allowed to train to use it for anything other than keeping your well-appointed garden neat and orderly. Naoya would not have married someone without either of those things, lest they not bear him fruitful children--

But you have never been allowed to use it for anything more.

The women of your clan are pretty decoration, with no need to learn anything other than how to behave and how to please their masters-and-husbands. You would be useless, thrown into the den of the wolves like that.

“Please don’t,” you’d said to him, your voice all soft and gentle, trying to be appeasing. “Please. I promise I’ll try harder.”

Naoya had taken your chin between thumb and forefinger, the grin across his face very sharp as his light eyes took in the pleading in your own gaze. You remember how the light had hit his earrings, the look of satisfaction at your begging and having you utterly and completely under his thumb.

“Be good,” he’d breathed, all slow and drawling. “And I won’t have to, will I?”

And he’d bid you to get on your knees for him and show you just how good you could be. Starting with your mouth.

So you know where he’s dragging you, down the labyrinthine halls of the estate. You try and pull back, feet sliding on the tatami mat, your voice pitching as you say;

“Naoya, please, I’m sorry--”

“Women should be seen and not heard,” he says to you. “Don’t make a fuss like that. You earned this.”

Your eyes are filling with tears, hot fear clawing its way up your throat.

“I’ll do anything,” you say to him, despite knowing that it’s a dangerous bargain to give him. He almost considers it for a moment, pausing – but then, his fingers just dig harder into the softness of your bicep (you’re going to bruise), and he tugs you.

“You’re making a scene,” he says. “If you don’t stop, I’ll leave you in there even longer.” You try to wrench your arm out of his grip, all of your self-defense mechanisms going into overdrive as you recognise the door he’s leading to you too. You’re breathless, so frightened you think that your heart might stop.

Naoya opens the door and pulls you in. You almost stumble at the flight of stairs, but he clicks his tongue at you in annoyance.

“So clumsy,” he drawls. “And here I was, under the impression I was marrying a graceful, lovely, credit to her family--” More steps, until he’s gotten you in the middle of the floor. He gazes around him, and you hear the low hum of a hundred cursed spirit’s voices murmuring the same things, over and over again. “The only time you’re a credit to them is with your legs spread.”

“Naoya,” you whimper, torn between pushing yourself into him for the comfort and protection that you know he can offer, or trying to tear away from him and escape the room yourself. You know the second option won’t work – he’s far faster, far stronger than you – but it’s hard to think of anything when you feel like your very survival is teetering impossibly over your head.

“If you run,” he says, still in that cold, uninterested drawl, “I’ll break one of your ankles.”

You don’t think he’s bluffing. Naoya says a lot of things, yes – but he’s also reckless and proud enough to mean them. You stand there, next to him, feeling yourself begin to tremble.

“W-why aren’t they attacking yet?” You ask him, voice very small. He looks at you pityingly.

“They’re afraid of me, obviously,” he says to you, very slowly, like he’s explaining it to somebody very stupid. “I didn’t get this good at everything by not training myself, darling.” He lets go of you, finally, a whistle escaping his pursed mouth as he rocks on the balls of his feet. He’s supremely unconcerned by your fear. “When I’m gone, they’ll come out for you.”

Your eyes fill with tears.

“What am I supposed to do?” You ask him, desperation leaking into your cracked voice. “I can’t—I can’t protect myself--”

Naoya narrows his eyes.

“You should have thought about that before you were such a pain,” he replies. And, without further ado, he turns around and begins to ascend the stairs again. You turn with him, moving forward, stumbling in your haste and ending up sprawled at the bottom of the stairs with your hand pathetically fisted into the hem of his hakama.

He looks down at you with a disgusted sneer on his face, and you hate that even with that expression his features are still unmistakably handsome.

“Let go,” he says. “Have some dignity.”

“Please,” you repeat. You can feel a fat tear spilling from the corner of your eye down the curve of your cheeks. You know the ‘dignity’ statement is a dig; the fact that you’ve heard his family members calling your clan power-hungry undignified gold-digging whores, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you can see the beginning of shadows spilling out too far into the main floor of the room. “Naoya. Please.”

He kicks out at your wrist, face twisted in distaste, and you let go to avoid it being stood on and crushed under his strength. You cradle it against your chest, looking up at him still all desperate and afraid.

“If I helped,” he said to you, “you’d never learn your lesson.” He takes a step up and turns away completely from you, as if you’re nothing more than an ignored child on the street. “It will be good for you, beloved wife. Character-building.” You hear the smirk in his voice and you hate him.

You want to strangle him. You want to beg him to protect you. You want to tear him limb from limb, but you want him to let you bury your head in his chest as he dispels the spirits with ease. You want--

The door slams shut behind him. He’s too cheerful as he throws behind him;

“Good luck!”

And you are left alone.

It takes a moment before anything slithers out from the shadows, and you clap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself screaming. The first cursed spirit is a hunched over creature with the face of a Pierrot clown, mouth stretched impossibly wide with gaping black abyss where eyes ought to be. It’s whispering something over and over to itself, but the wide mouth is so crowded with teeth that it comes out as an incomprehensible noise, dripping drool as it begins to move horrifically slowly towards you.

Oh, God. You’re not supposed to look at them, are you? You dimly recall something about many sorcerers wearing glasses so the creatures can’t tell where their gazes are, but this one has already got the scent of you; those dark pits staring at your crumpled form.

Everything you’ve ever been told in passing about jujutsu and cursed spirits and cursed technique just seems to flow out of your mind to be replaced by mind-numbing fear. You’ve not been trained for this; when your clan had arranged your marriage with Naoya, you know that they’d expected fine silken kimonos and traditional food and you being a pretty trophy on the arm of the future leader of their clan. You know they’d be horrified if they saw what was happening.

More of them are melting from the shadows, the whispering and moaning reaching a terrifying crescendo. You’re trembling. Your heart is beating so fast inside of your chest you think it might break free of your ribcage and sputter out onto the floor.

The Pierrot monster is close enough that you can see the six hands it drags on the floor are all tipped with claws that are sharp as blades. You scramble up the stairs on your ass, too afraid to turn your back on the creatures. You realise you’re shouting, but it seems just as blurred as anything that the cursed spirits are saying. You’re crying, too – howling, whimpering, so scared you’re surprised any noise is able to come out at all.

You’re going to die.

It hits you with cruel certainty as you reach the top and throw your weight at the door, only for it to not give an inch. You scramble at the heavy wood, not caring about your careful manicure (Naoya wants you to be a credit to him, and that means manicures and facial treatments and a fancy bathroom full of soaps and creams that he expects you to use and that he slathers, too, on himself). You hear a nail break but you can’t bring yourself to worry about that when the Pierrot monster is dragging itself up the flight of stairs, one step at a time. It makes a hideous sliding thump, like it’s both wet and heavy – and you notice, too, the scent of blood invading your senses.

Your tear-blurred eyes can see all of the other monsters, too – not quite as close, but still too close for comfort. Too many eyes and not enough eyes, too many legs, claws and teeth and misshapen bones and blood leaking from holes. What are you supposed to do?

Naoya has left you here, alone, to teach you a lesson. You hadn’t realised the lesson would culminate in your death, but with all of the spirits so close to you, you cannot see any other way.

All of the fight goes out of you and you sag against the door, a broken sob escaping your lips. Your throat is dry from hoarse screaming.

You are going to die. You hope it will come quick; you hope the Pierrot monster will tear you limb from limb and you’ll die in instants from the shock. Your voice whispers Naoya’s name one last, hopeless time.

Will he find another wife? Will they even bother covering up your death, or will they spin some rumour or lie to your family and the whole of jujutsu society that you brought it upon yourself?

You would do anything to be rescued right now. You would crawl on your hands and knees behind Naoya for the rest of your life, refer to him only as ‘Master’, fulfil every single thing he ever asked you with no more than a meek nod of your head. Pull out your tongue so you couldn’t make any more mistakes.

But the time for pleading seems to have gone entirely, and you are useless and stupid and weak as you run out of tears, eyes burning. All you can do, you think, is wait for death.

The door swings open behind you and you’re dragged backwards, onto tatami, by powerful hands gripping your shoulders as it closes once more with a massive clunk that echoes in your ears--

And you find yourself strewn out on the floor, face caked with dried tear-tracks, a trembling, pathetic mess looking up at your husband’s face.

He leans against the door, listening to you scream. He can hear his name mixed in with sobs and screams and pleading; saying that you’ll do anything, you’re sorry, you’ll never disobey him again you’ll take any punishment he metes out with a smile on your face, if he just helps you. He hears you call yourself weak and pathetic and useless around the tears clogging your throat; he hears the thump of you hitting the door and the sound of your nails scratching down the wood, uncaring of anything other than getting away from them.

Yes, he thinks as he opens the door for you and you fall, shivering and sobbing, in front of him. Yes, he thinks you’ve learnt your lesson.

You’re so pretty, he thinks, closing it once more (he sees the cursed spirits begin to creep back to where they came from at the very sight of him, now their preferred victim is protected), with your eyes all glassy and wet. You’re extra pretty looking at him like he’s a conquering hero who’s saved you from certain death – which he supposes he is.

You cling to his arm, pulling yourself up, burying your face in his chest as your hands cling to him like you’ve been lost and he’s the first familiar thing you’ve seen in months. Your tears soak his kimono, but . . . he finds himself not really minding, as big, lean hands pet you gently on the back.

“It’s alright now,” he soothes you, murmuring low. “Your husband has you.”

“Please, please, ‘m so sorry--” You’re mumbling into him, whimpering, your shoulders shaking. “Please never m-make me, again--”

“Shhh,” he continues, gently beginning to move towards his chambers. You cling to him, adrift in a sea of your own fears. “It’s better now. You’ll be better now, won’t you?”

He receives a fierce nod for that, your fingers twisting into his clothing. It’s nice, having you so wrapped around him; seeing him as the strong protector that he knows he is but you needed reminding of. You’re still mewling little pleas into him even as he unlocks the door to his bedroom and gently pushes you in. Letting go of him even for a moment seems to cause you physical pain--

Good. You should feel like that. You should feel incomplete without him at your side. Naoya rewards you with a rare, soft smile.

“You know why you had to be punished like that, don’t you?” He purrs to you, petting your hair and carefully drawing back so he can look at your face. Your lips are all swollen from crying and biting; he thinks you’ve never looked quite so kissable as you do right now.

“Yes,” you nod, fiercely. “I’m sorry. I’ll do a-anything, I promise. I . . .” You swallow, your eyes filling with tears again. Naoya has been hard since the moment he heard you call out his name from inside the training room, your voice filled with choked tears, and watching them well up again does nothing for the stricture against the fabric. “I needed you.”

“And I saved you,” he says, arching an elegant brow – to which you nod again, and your hands drift towards him like you’re aimless without him in front of you to serve. “I’ll protect you, darling, as long as you learn your place.”

“I will!” That’s said with such conviction that he can’t help the smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I will. N-Naoya . . .” Your voice trembles a little. “’m willing to do anything for you. J-just please . . . not again.”

“Shh,” he reaches out and deigns to touch you, to gently and soothingly rub his thumb over your cheek, where the tears have dried. “If you’re really going to be so good for me, I won’t have to, will I?” You stumble forward onto your knees and Naoya’s brows shoot up in surprise as your hands tug at his hakama.

“Please let me show you how grateful I am,” you whisper, your eyes wide and bright and desperate. “Naoya, please, please, please--”

Oh, there’s something so gratifying about you like this, begging to suck his cock. It stirs between his thighs again, reminding him that he’s painfully stiff; and you are here, a willing mouth, scared out of your skull and desperate to please him. He’s smirking at you but you do not register it as such; all you see is the smile of your rescuer.

Your protector.

Your husband.

“Say what you want to do to me, darling,” he tells you, keeping his voice as sweet as he can make it. “You’re a big girl. You can use your words. What do you want to do, to show me how grateful you are that I saved your paltry life?”

You’re pouting; your mouth is sweet, pretty. He wants to pry your jaw open and fuck the back of your throat, and his body roars as your fingers tug on the hakama again and your meek, soft voice whispers;

“Please let me suck your cock.”

“You have a dirty mouth,” he coos to you, leaning forward to brush a finger over your lower lip. “Not befitting of a woman of your station. I suppose that means that it’s up to me to keep you quiet, hmm?”

You obediently open it, letting his finger gently rest on your tongue for a moment.

Desperate to please, your mouth closes about it, your tongue gently swiping over the pad, your cheeks hollowing a little as you suck on the digit inside of them. Naoya’s smiling again, the victorious grin of someone who’s gotten exactly what they wanted. He pulls his finger out and thrusts back in with two, whispering to you;

“Do you think you deserve my cock, after what you put me through today?”

You shake your head, but you don’t stop lavishing attention on the fingers in your mouth, a string of drool falling from the corner of your mouth as he presses his third finger inside of it. So warm, and wet. He needs his cock to be inside of you or he thinks he may embarrass himself.

The fingers are pulled out, wiped on the hakama fabric, before he says (the carefully adopted tone almost disinterested);

“Take them off, then. Don’t make your promises empty words. I wouldn’t appreciate such thoughtlessness in a wife.”

You’re eager, stripping off his clothes. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of his cock; elegant, flushed, hard and straining with a light upwards curve that he knows will hit you in the right place at the back of your throat to make you gag.

“Wait,” he says, as you lean in to bring him to your lips. “What do you say, darling?”

Your eyes (still brimming with tears, he notices – and fuck, he loves how you look teary-eyed and pouting. He has to make you cry more often) meet his, but the look in yours is worshipful so he doesn’t chide you for having the insolence to meet his gaze directly.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “For saving me. For letting me suck your cock. For everything.”

Naoya is smiling.

“Good girl,” he says, placidly, as you place a delicate kiss on the head of his cock and slowly envelope it in the warmth of your mouth. “Very good.”

[ramzawrites]

OMG might I say I have cried many tears already.

Also can I request a part 2 to your hybrid iron golem story? Maybe one where he has to deal with torture from the butcher gang, and even has to help exile techno. But eventually he ends up teaming with techno blade and dream after they save him. And he starts training with them and gets better at pvp and eventually kills/greatly injures one of the butcher gang as revenge, before returning to his village? LOVE YOU AND YOUR FICS❤️ your also like the only writer I know who writes he/him or gn fics so thank you❤️

IronGolem!Hybrid!Reader - Protector - Part 2

Part 1

Male

Pairings: none

Characters included: Quackity, Tubbo, Fundy, Ranboo, Technoblade, Ghostbur, (mentioned) Philza

Warnings: mention of burn wounds,captivity,fighting

Series: a part 2 of my previous fic per request <3

Summary: After weeks of working Y/N to the bones the Butcher Army has a different need of him. After managing to get the best gear possible from Y/N and having trained enough, it was finally time to get revenge! It was time to “peacefully” get Technoblade so he can stand trial, of course taking Y/N with them, after all he worked so hard on their gear and was now a part of their little army.

Words count: 3893

Authors Note: Thank you for the nice words! 💙 :D I’m sorry I broke this request up in two parts! I will concentrate on finishing up another or two requests and while I do that, I will also try finishing up part 3 since I am already in the middle of writing it! So don’t worry it is coming!

Y/N pressed his back against the cold stone wall. Enjoying the coolness on his body. Pressing his burned palms against the cold floor beneath him. The coldness was like a soothing balm that engulfed him after working for hours at the forge.

It was probably a bad idea pushing the wounds down onto the dirty floor, but he didn’t care. The temporary relief of pain just felt too good that he couldn’t stop himself.

A small break from the constant stress on his body.

Basking in the break from the constant supervision of the Butcher Army, even if that break came at the cost of him being locked inside a cell.

He had no idea how long he has been here in L’Manberg. An interesting city built inside a crater. They led him to this place, riding on their horses while pulling him along with a rope. It was a grueling two-day trip and as soon as the group arrived, they almost immediately put him to work.

First it just started out with him looking over their current armor and repairing what he could, then they began forcing him to create multiple sets of iron armor, claiming they would give him the resources and he should just work.

So, he did. He created armor sets, weapons and tools. Making new ones when they lost the gear, or it got destroyed. They put his work to the test. Fighting against each other to train. Using it against a horde of mobs, so there was never really a shortage of work.

The real trouble came when they suddenly presented him with diamonds. Ordering him to make them diamond armor but he didn’t know how. His expertise laid with iron work nothing else, but the group wouldn’t hear a no from him. Forcing him to figure out how to best create this diamond armor by showing him their old ones.

Luckily his knowledge seemed to somewhat extend to the new material as well. It took a while, but he soon found out different ways to create a similar product to that of his iron gear.

Diamond armor light but strong, the tools incredibly sturdy and in some cases sharp.

This seemed to be what the group was looking for. Yelling things like “This could rival netherite!” as they tried it out for the first time.

One day they brought him a new material. It was netherite. It was good thing that netherite behaved more like iron and was used as a coating for diamond gear, so Y/N could make this upgraded gear for them fast and easily.

The netherite complimented his work quite well. It received greater durability but also made it possible to sharpen the weapons even more so. Something about this material seemed to behave otherworldly to him which got confirmed to him once he found out that it came from the nether.

Naively Y/N had hoped that this was enough and that they would finally let him go and return to his village. His one true home. Though of course they didn’t let him go, saying that they still haven’t reached their goal and needed his help.

Still working him to the bone. His hands getting more and more hurt over time as he worked with the materials. The metal that coated them cracking more and more.

The villagers back home were left with the only few defenses he put up, which should be fine but also, he wanted to be there and make sure they were alright.

As he sat alone in the dark room, he let himself silently cry. He missed them so much. They would make sure he was alright, giving him an abundance of food and materials and whenever he refused to take more, they would look so insulted. If anything, the villagers were good-natured beings that believed in true reciprocity.

This seemed to be a foreign concept for the L’Manberg people or at least the Butcher Army. Increasing his fear and wariness for other humans even more. He never actually had any contact with other people outside of them, but he did learn a few things about the little group and what their opinion was of others.

For starters there were two people they saw as their ultimate enemies.

One called Dream and another called Technoblade.

From the things he heard and even the few question he managed to ask despite of his fear and anxiety, he gained the idea that these two must have been horrible tyrants. He almost got the idea that they were just beasts out here hunting their prey and trying to subject the other people under their own rule or ideologies.

And Y/N was scared of them. He didn’t want to meet them and make sure to stay far away but this was also how he felt towards the Butcher Army, conflicting thoughts and emotions brewing inside of him. The Butcher Army acted like they were the good guys, doing bad things for a good goal and Y/N wanted to believe in that. Wanted to believe that him suffering will bring something good as well but there were doubts.

Y/N laid his hurting hands on his biceps, squeezing them in pain as he tried to stifle his sobs. No matter what, he will make sure to not cry in front of them. It was stupid and unnecessary, but he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. Though then again, the only person who seemed to enjoy the feeling of power was Quackity. Fundy was a close second, but he looked mostly just forward to the new goods and the power he seemed to gain through them.

Tubbo and Ranboo were more passive. Especially Ranboo.

Quackity seemed to string Tubbo along most of the time, speaking to his pride as president of the nation and basically just whispering him what he should do, and the young president listened.

Ranboo tried to sometimes help Y/N. Giving him things like bandages for his wounds or giving him extra food and water, even trying to do small talk with him to lighten the mood. If the situation were different Y/N would have laughed at his awkward attempts for conversation.

While he appreciated it, it just hammered back in the feeling of homesickness.

He bit his lower lip as his thoughts began running a mile an hour again. Ranging from despair to him cursing out his captors. He was too kind to actually think things like “I hate them. I hate them so much.” Trying to believe there was a good reason for this, but he was getting tired. His work is getting more and more sloppy, and it was only a matter of time until Quackity and the others noticed.

There was no telling with how long he could take this anymore.

Y/N got back up only to fall into bed. There was nothing better to do here than sleep through the days and wait for the others to get him out.

As it turned out the others needed him early in the morning but this time it was different.

Quackity opened up the iron door to his cell with a sterner expression than usual. It surprised Y/N when he saw that Quackity had put the white apron on top of his new netherite armor. This was not a good sign. The last time he saw that armor on him was when Quackity escorted him to L’Manberg.

“Get up. We have something to do.” His voice was cold and strained. A hint of anxiety mixed in, or maybe it was anticipation after all.

Not even daring to hesitate, Y/N jumped off his bed. Wordlessly following his captor, soon noticing that this would not be a usual day for him.

Instead of turning to the smithy they set up for him, Quackity led him to the town middle where he saw the rest of the Butcher Army waiting. Decked out in Y/N’s best armor and horses in tow. Expressions pulled down into deep frowns.

But what confused him the most was that he counted five horses when there were only four members of the army. A bad feeling begun building up at the bottom of his stomach. Like a rock sinking down into the depths of water.

“What is going on?” Y/N managed to rasp out as the two reached the others.

Quackity collected the reigns of all the horses and pushed it into Y/N’s rough hands “It is time we finally get some retribution. We are going after Technoblade and we need your help for that. Your own armor is over there. Get ready while we have a little talk with Philza.”

He didn’t wait for an answer and instead moved towards Philza’s home, only to turn around one more time before they rung the bell in front of the house “And I swear by Ender if you run away, we will find you. We know the only probable place you would seek refuge in and even if you don’t, we will wreck that place.”

Then they sounded the bell. A familiar ringing that made Y/N’s heart ache even more.

There was no real choice, he just looked around and found his old iron armor laying on the ground. The scratches and damages from back when the Butcher Army found him still there. He never got the chance to repair it.

Y/N never really talked with Philza. He only saw him here and there. Usually whenever Philza passed him he would just stare. Just stare him down. Something going through his mind, but Y/N couldn’t possibly tell what. His expression always grim only to jump back into a relaxed smile. Y/N always thought his smile felt a bit off. Wrong even. Not the truth or hiding something.

When the door swung open again it gave away to a smug looking Quackity who happily swung around a compass by its chain around his finger. A proud looking Tubbo behind him, followed by Fundy who looked almost like he was sulking and Ranboo who had a complicated expression on his face. He didn’t feel comfortable.

“We’ve got what we need. Now, to Technoblade. Everyone on their horses! This includes you, Y/N.” Quackity exclaimed.

The bad feeling increased, creating a lump in his throat. Shakily he opened up his hand and let everyone get on their horses, leaving him with a beautiful black one.

Nervous he put his foot in the pedal of the saddle and heaved himself up on it.

He wanted to scream. Run away. What would they need him for? His armor was way inferior to that of the others, ignoring the fact that he couldn’t fight at all.

No, they didn’t need him to fight but be a shield for them. A moving shield. After all he was an Iron Golem Hybrid. Big areas of his skin covered in thin metal plates, not all connected so he could still move but it gave him more protection. That plus his height was what they counted on, wasn’t it? That he would still be imposing enough to draw attention.

This was the conclusion he came to due to Quackity. He heard him talking. All Y/N was to him was a tool, a resource to be used and the worst part was that Y/N just couldn’t defend himself against this. Too scared anything might happen to his home because Quackity was right, they knew exactly where his home was and how important this place was to him.

Y/N didn’t realize how suddenly Quackity slowed down his horse as they arrived in the snow biome only pulling him out of his anxiety filled thoughts as he began speaking to him directly.

“Here is the plan. We want to get Technoblade and-” He stopped himself as he searched for the right words “And hold him accountable. Yes, we will put him on trial. If we are lucky, he will just follow us, but we doubt it. If he refuses, he will likely fight us. We just need you to draw your attention on yourself but don’t worry, we will jump right in to take care of him.”

“I- I don’t, Quackity, I don’t- I can’t fight!” Y/N croaked out. It felt like ages since he last spoke.

But Quackity just smiled “Don’t worry.”

That was all he said before hurrying along to be back at the front of the pack. Holding the glowing compass close to himself.

Y/N knew. He knew this was the case and yet it felt like someone stuffed snow down his shirt. A cold shiver running down his spine. Panic rising even more. It was a good thing he was sitting on top of a horse, otherwise he wasn’t sure if his shaking legs could carry him for the rest of the way. Each step closer to what felt like his doom.

His doom? Would Technoblade kill him? The way the small Army described him, he wouldn’t hesitate to cut him down.

Was it bad he didn’t fear dying but just the potential pain?

Realizing where his thoughts were running off to, he shook himself. No, his home, his real home, needed him. He couldn’t die yet. He needed to find a way to survive.

Suddenly Fundy stopped his horse and moved his fist up in the air, signaling for the others to stop as well. While the others wondered why he did this, Fundy pointed ahead through the trees towards a figure? A person? Out here in the snowy tundra?

Without saying anything Quackity jumped off his horse, the others following suit and begun tying the animals to the trees. Once Y/N understood what was happening he did the same. His eyes darting back towards the figure that seemed to interact and cuddle with a blue sheep while he made sure his horse was secured to one of the trees.

“What’s Ghostbur doing here?” Ranboo whispered more to himself but Y/N caught it.

He heard of Ghostbur but actually never met him. Apparently, the ghost of the man that blew the nation up but that was really all he knew.

They approached the ghost on foot, calling out to him in the process to gain his attention. The ghost immediately waved towards them with an earnest and big smile on his face. Y/N was fretting for his life at the moment but something about Ghostbur almost calmed him down.

Maybe it was just the fact of meeting a new friendly face after being surrounded by the Butcher Army for so long.

Ghostbur approached them, the sheep following him via a leash “Hello Quackity! Hello Fundy! Hello Tubbo! Hello Ranboo! Oh! I don’t know your name! I’m sorry! Hello though! I’m Ghostbur!”

Y/N was a bit taken aback. He was so friendly.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.” he surprised himself a little bit with how he just blurted it out.

Ghostbur cocked his head to the side as he listened “Nice to meet you Y/N! You don’t look too good! Are you doing alright? Oh no, was this rude? Do you want some blue? Maybe that will help!”

Before Y/N could even properly process what he could possibly mean with blue Quackity jumped in “Hey, Ghostbur. You know if Technoblade is close? Is he somewhere around here?”

Somehow Ghostbur managed to lighten up even more, which should be impossible but Ghostbur’s eyes widened into a fond recognition and he turned around “Yes! Yes! I got lost but I found Techno! He told me to go though! He is over there! Come with me, I’ll show you!”

The Ghost then begun floating off, leading the group between trees and soon arriving on a small hill that gave them a good view of a cottage house.

Seeing the homey build, it was difficult for Y/N to imagine that a monster lived there. If anything, it reminded him of his own home. Maybe he won’t fight? Maybe this will end peacefully? But somehow Y/N doubted it by the serious but eager expressions on half of the Butcher Army’s faces as their eyes fell on Techno’s home.

“Let’s go.” Quackity trotted down the hill “We all know what to do.”

Y/N’s heartbeat took on speed again. Everyone got their weapons out and even though Y/N was technically really strong due to his constant smithing work, the iron sword in his hand felt heavy. Like it could slip out of his hand any second.

Worried his eyes darted across the few windows of the house. Trying to get a glimpse of Technoblade but all he saw was a shadow moving away from one of the windows.

Did he see them approaching?

“Techno get out!” Quackity suddenly yelled, pulling Y/N back out of his anxiety filled thoughts once again.

It took a second but suddenly the wooden door opened up slowly and Technoblade got out. He wore netherite armor, a red gown with white fluff on his shoulders on top of the armor, a crown on top of his head, his pink hair pulled back.

With his scowling expression and stature, he looked scary.

Technoblade took a step outside on his porch, Y/N suddenly became very aware of how sharp his tusks looked.

“What do you want?”

With a deep breath Quackity took a closer step towards the Pig Hybrid “We are here to get you! We, the Butcher Army, are here to put you on trial!”

“Yes! It is time you take responsibility for the destruction of L’Manberg!” Fundy added on. Tubbo just nodded to show his support to this statement.

“And why should I follow you? I’ve retired, I don’t want to be a part of any of this anymore. I’m done.” Techno spoke.

Quackity turned around to look at Y/N for a second only to continue speaking with Techno “Well, either you follow us peacefully or we will force you. You can’t run away from what you have done! Come with us and stand trial!”

But he didn’t answer immediately, Techno moved down the porch. Almost circling the group, his eyes jumping around between them.

“Listen, guys. The voices in my head. They begged me for more blood. They demanded more but I refused. I purposefully got out here to deny them, just leave me be.”

“Techno, you spawned Withers in L’Manberg! People got hurt! They destroyed a huge part of our nation! You have to stand trial!” Tubbo readjusted his grip on his axe. He looked angry and almost bewildered.

Technoblade slowly shook his head “No, you don’t understand. I’m trying to keep away from all this for a reason! You are just pulling me back to things and-“

“No! You either come with us or we will make you! Five to one Techno, you think you can do that?” Quackity interrupted him, pointing his weapon at Techno.

Y/N was overwhelmed with the situation. The man in front of him, Technoblade, wasn’t how he imagined him. He tried to reason but the others wouldn’t want to hear it which Y/N could understand as well but this man didn’t look like the blood thirsty monster the others described him as.

The Pig Hybrid sighed, his eyes now instead of jumping around finally decided to rest on Y/N, who in return suddenly felt small under his gaze. Did Techno realize that Y/N was the attack bait? Is he falling for it? Or did he notice his trembling arms and legs. The fear and worry in his eyes. The burn wounds covering his hands and arms. The clearly damaged iron armor.

Was he seeing Y/N as prey or as the scared man that feared for his life he really was?

“What will it be, Techno?” Fundy snarled, showing of his sharp teeth.

His hands moved towards his side “If it has to be like that, then I choose blood!”

Then everything went really fast. His hands pulled out a few flask from his belt, hidden by his gown that he threw on the ground to buff himself.

The Butcher Army immediately grew panicked and barked orders, a clear and loud order from Quackity flew through the chaos and reached Y/N “Attack him, Y/N!”

And he didn’t know why but he moved in. He was scared, his heart felt close to exploding in his chest, but he was somehow more scared of Quackity and what could happen shouldn’t he listen. Scared that he would force him to work even more, refusing him sleep and food again. Not letting him treat his wounds properly that he got from the work.

So, he moved in. With shaking legs and what felt like without strength in his arms. The world turned blurry. Was he crying or just his nerves? He couldn’t tell.

All he remembered was Techno coming close to him, looking like a demon. His eyes wide and filled with what Y/N assumed to be bloodlust.

Y/N moved his arm up, just trying to hit Techno with his own sword, but Techno was faster. He slammed the blunt end of his netherite sword into Y/N’s neck. Shocked by the sudden attack, he fell to the ground. The world growing dark for a few seconds as he coughed and tried to breathe again.

As he sat in the cold snow, trying to calm down he heard the Army yelling. Metal clanging on metal.

Then it suddenly stopped.

A neighing. A horse? What?

Luckily Y/N seemed to have regained somewhat control over his own body and could assess the situation in front of him.

The Butcher Army seemed to be alright. Y/N’s armor really held through, no obvious damage on it. They were out of breath and sweating but alright.

A bit ashamed Y/N couldn’t help but be proud of his work that it withstood a buffed-up Techno with a netherite sword.

But what really caught his attention was Quackity who held the reigns of a horse with diamond armor. His axe held up close to the animal’s throat.

Technoblade moved the tip of his blade towards him “Get away from that horse, Quackity!”

“Follow us peacefully and nothing will happen to the horse, Techno. Your choice.”

There was a slight hesitation as Techno undoubtedly tried to gauge if he could somehow deal with Quackity differently but ultimately, he suddenly dropped his weapon as well his armor.

Perplexed Y/N got back up, still rubbing his neck.

Techno spared him. He obviously just tried to either knock him out or make him unable to fight, which he succeeded in. Wouldn’t it have been for Y/N’s reinforced skin due to his Iron Golem side he would have been knocked out for sure.

Fundy did not hesitate to jump in and wrap chains around Techno’s wrists “Y/N! You are the strongest one of us. You hold on to him, we will be close by to ensure he won’t run off.”

Avoiding looking at the others directly after having been taken out of the fight so easily, he made his way towards Fundy and grabbed the chains. Wrapping it a few times around his own arm as well. Feeling sick to his stomach as he realized that he was doing the same thing to Techno like back when the group escorted him out of his own village.

He couldn’t help himself but whisper towards Techno a quick “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

[bringbackthebastard]

Bring Back the Bastard Daily Prompts

Hello, folks! I'm posting these two weeks before we begin our fest, on September 1st, to give folks some inspiration on what to write each day as we celebrate Severus Snape's pettiest, most dastardly moments. I specifically picked out moments Snaters always harp on, that Snapedom personally enjoys--from any moment with Trevor to bitching at Lupin at Sirius, to the moments that Lily turns away and Dumbledore's face flashes with disgust--sure, he's a bastard, but he's our bastard, and that's what we like about him. You don't want him? Good. We'll keep him. Here are 30 scene prompts for 30 days--it's a long list, pulled chronologically from all seven books, but I found that it reminded me of everything I love about this character. The moments where he's called deranged, the moments where he slips into all-caps, the ugliest moments of the soul. Hope yall enjoy. Excited to kick off the fest starting September 1st, and absolutely excited to see what Snapedom will do. Let's Bring Back the Bastard! The prompts are below the readmore.

Day 1: The Scar Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacheer with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes--and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead. "Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head. "What is it?" asked Percy. "N-nothing." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look--a felling that he didn't like Harry at all. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to--everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Day 2: Bad Impressions Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name. "Ah, yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new--celebrity."

Day 3: Potions Class "Potter!" said Snape suddenly "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand shot into the air. "I don't know, sir," said Harry. Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut--fame clearly isn't everything."

Day 4: A Horrible Sight Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages. "Blasted thing," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?" Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but-- "POTTER!" Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Harry gulped. "I just wondered if I could have my book back." "GET OUT! OUT!"

Day 5: Maybe He's Ill "Hang on..." Harry muttered to Ron. "There's an empty chair at the staff table...Where's Snape?" Professor Severus Snape was Harry's least favorite teacher. Harry also happened to be Snape's least favorite student. Cruel, sarcastic, and disliked by everybody except the students from his own House (Slytherin), Snape taught Potions. "Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully. "Maybe he's left," said Harry, "because he missed out on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job again!" "Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates him--" "Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."

Day 6: Slytherin Takes the Field "But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "But I booked it!" "Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

Day 7: No Quidditch For You! "I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest." "Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong." Dumbledore was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed. "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said firmly. Snape looked furious.

Day 8: Expelliarmus! "Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry--you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!" "Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Harry's ear. Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at *him* like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them. "As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our fist spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course." "I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth. "One--two--three--" Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Day 9: Only Bite Him A Little Bit, Please "Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it..."

Day 10: Poisoning Trevor The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron. "Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned." The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat. There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small op, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm. The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown. "Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

Day 11: Insufferable Know-It-All Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air. "Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between--" "We told you," said Parvati suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on--" "Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..." "Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf--" "That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Fire more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Day 12: Your Saintly Father "I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter," he said, a terrible grin twisting his face. "Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you--your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't gotten cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts." Snape's uneven, yellowish teeth were bared.

Day 13: Don't Talk About What You Don't Understand "KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end o his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent. "Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you..." "The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle" --he jerked his head at Ron-- "I'll come quietly...." "Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black...pleased enough to give you a little Kiss, I daresay...."

Day 14: A Great Disappointment "He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have let somebody in the room with him. When this gets out--" "HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Snape roared, now very close at hand. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE *OR* DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS--HAS--SOMETHING--TO--DO--WITH--POTTER!" "Severus--be reasonable--Harry has been locked up--" BAM. The door of the hospital wing burst open. Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself. "OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" "Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself!" "See here, Snape, be reasonable," said Fudge. "This door's been locked, we just saw--" "THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth. "Calm down, man!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense!" "YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" shrieked Snape. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT--" "That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the war ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?" "Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. "I would have heard them!" "Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further." Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behavior, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward. "Fellow seems quite unbalanced," said Fudge, staring after him. "I'd watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore." "Oh, he's not unbalanced," said Dumbledore quietly. "He's just suffered a severe disappointment."

Day 15: Haven't You Heard? "Blimey, haven' yeh heard?" said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. "Er--Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'....Thought everyone'd know by now...Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose on the grounds las' night...He's packin' now, o' course."

Day 16: I See No Difference "And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice. Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain." "Potter attacked me, sir--" "We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted. "--and he hit Goyle--look--" Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi. "Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly. "Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!" He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth--she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back. Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Day 17: The Dark Mark Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He struck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled. "There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eater to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Day 18: If You Are Ready...If You Are Prepared... "Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready...if you are prepared..." "I am," said Snape. He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely. "Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.

Day 19: Obviously "Now...how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard. "Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable. His eyes on Snape, Harry added a few drops to his potion; it hissed menacingly and turned from turquoise to orange. "You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape. "Yes," said Snape quietly. "But you were unsuccessful?" Snape's lip curled. "Obviously." Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard. "And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?" "Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry. "Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge. "I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily. "Oh I shall," said Professor Umbridge with a sweet smile. "I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed. "Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge. "Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers'--er--backgrounds...." She turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson, and began questioning her about the lessons. Snape looked around at Harry and their eyes met for a second. Harry hastily dropped his gaze to his potion, which was now congealing foully and giving off a strong smell of burned rubber. "No marks again, then, Potter," said Snape maliciously, emptying Harry's cauldron with a wave of his wand. "You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?"

Day 20: Very Like His Father "How touching," Snape sneered. "But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?" Yes, I have," said Sirius proudly. "Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him," Snape said sleekly. Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table toward Snape, pulling out his wand as he went; Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from Sirius' wand-tip to his face. "Sirius!" said Harry loudly, but Sirius appeared not to hear him. "I've warned you, Snivellus," said Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better." "Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months very seriously?" "Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?" "Speaking of dogs," said Snape softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform...gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in future, didn't it?" Sirius raised his wand. "NO!" Harry yelled, vaulting over the table and trying to get in between them, "Sirius, don't--" "Are you calling me a coward?" roared Sirius, trying to push Harry out of the way, but Harry would not budge. "Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape.

Day 21: Wormtail's Whine "We...we are alone, aren't we?" Narcissa asked quietly. "Yes, of course. Well, Wormtail's here, but we're not counting vermin, are we?" He pointed his wand at the wall of books behind him and with a bang, a hidden door flew open, revealing a narrow staircase upon which a small man stood frozen. "As you have clearly realized, Wormtail, we have guests," said Snape lazily. The man crept, hunchbacked, down the last few steps and moved into the room. He had small, watery eyes, a pointed nose, and wore an unpleasant simper. His left hand was caressing his right, which looked as though it was encased in a bright silver glove. "Narcissa!" he said, in a squeaky voice. "And Bellatrix! How charming--" "Wormtail will get us drinks, if you'd like them," said Snape. "And then he will return to his bedroom." Wormtail winced as though Snape had thrown something at him. "I am not your servant!" he squeaked, avoiding Snape's eyes. "Really? I was under the impression that the Dark Lord placed you here to assist me." "To assist, yes--but not to make you drinks and--clean your house!" "I had no idea, Wormtail, that you were craving more dangerous assignments," said Snape silkily. "This can be easily arranged: I shall speak to the Dark Lord--" "I can speak to him if I want to!" "Of course you can," said Snape, sneering. "But in the meantime, bring us drinks. Some of the elf-made wine will do."

Day 22: A Loving Caress Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view. "The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible." Harry stared at Snape. It was surely one thing to respect the Dark Arts as a dangerous enemy, another to speak of them, as Snape was doing, with a loving caress in his voice? "Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures" --he indicated a few of them as he swept past-- "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" --he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony-- "feel the Dementor's Kiss" --a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall-- "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" --a bloody mass upon the ground.

Day 23: Better People "What does it matter?" said Malfoy. "Defense Against the Dark Arts--it's all just a joke, isn't it, an act? Like an of us need protecting against the Dark Arts--" "It is an act that is crucial to success, Draco!" said Snape. "Where do you think I would have been all these years, if I had not known how to act? Now listen to me! You are being incautious, wandering around at night, getting yourself caught, and if you are placing your reliance in assistants like Crabbe and Goyle--" "They're not the only ones, I've got other people on my side, better people!" "Then why not confide in me, and I can--" "I know what you're up to! You want to steal my glory!" There was another pause, then Snape said coldly, "You are speaking like a child. I quite understand that your father's capture and imprisonment has upset you, but--"

Day 24: Revulsion and Hatred Etched on His Face "Severus..." The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading. Snape said nothing, but walked forward and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. The three Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed. Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face. "Severus...please..." Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. "Avada Kedavra!"

Day 25: Don't Call Me Coward Mustering all his powers of concentration, Harry thought, Levi-- "No, Potter!" screamed Snape. There was a loud BANG and Harry was soaring backward, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand. He could hear Hagrid yelling and Fang howling as Snape closed in and looked down on him where he lay, wandless and defenseless as Dumbledore had been. Snape's pale face, illuminated by the flaming cabin, was suffused with hatred just as it had been before he had cursed Dumbledore. "You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them--I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, woudl you? I don't think so...no!" Harry had dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight. "Kill me then," panted Harry, who felt no fear at all, but only rage and contempt. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward--" "DON'T--" screamed Snape, and his face was suddenly deranged, inhuman, as though he was in as much pain as the yelping, howling dog stuck in the burning house behind them-- "CALL ME COWARD!"

Day 26: The Guest Voldemort raised Lucius Malfoy's wand, pointed it directly at the slowing revolving figure suspended over the table, and gave it a tiny flick. The figure came to life with a groan and began to struggle against invisible bonds. "Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked Voldemort. Snape raised his eyes to the upside-down face. All of the Death Eaters were looking up at the captive now, as thought they had been given permission to show curiosity. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, "Severus! Help me!" "Ah, yes," said Snape as the prisoner turned slowly away again.

Day 27: I Regret It "All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "wondering, wondering why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner...and I think I have the answer." Snape did not speak. "Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen." "My Lord--" "The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine." "My Lord!" Snape protested, raising his wand. "It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last." And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: But then Voldemort's intention became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue. "Kill." There was a terrible scream. Harry saw Snape's face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake's fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor. "I regret it," said Voldemort coldly.

Day 28: You Hurt Her! "Tuney!" said Lily, surprise and welcome in her voice, but Snape had jumped to his feet. "Who's spying now?" he shouted. "What d'you want?" Petunia was breathless, alarmed at being caught. Harry could see her struggling for something hurtful to say. "What is that you're wearing, anyway?" she said, pointing at Snape's chest. "Your mum's blouse?" There was a *crack*. A branch over Petunia's head had fallen. Lily screamed: The branch caught Petunia on the shoulder, and she staggered backward and burst into tears. "Tuney!" But Petunia was running away. Lily rounded on Snape. "Did you make it happen?" "No." He looked both defiant and scared. "You did!" She was backing away from him. "You *did*! You hurt her!" "No--no I didn't!" But the lie did not convince Lily: After one last burning look, she ran from the little thicket, off after her sister, and Snape looked miserable and confused....

Day 29: Save Your Breath "I'm sorry." "I'm not interested." "I'm sorry!" "Save your breath." It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. "I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here." "I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just--" "Slipped out?" There was no pity in Lily's voice. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends--you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?" He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. "I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine." "No--listen, I didn't mean--" "--to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I any different?" He struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look she turned and climbed back through the portrait hole....

Day 30: Anything "If she means so much to you," said Dumbledore, "surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for the mother, in exchange for the son?" "I have--I have asked him--" "You disgust me," said Dumbledore, and Harry had never heard so much contempt in his voice. Snape seemed to drink a little. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?" Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore. "Hide them all, then," he croaked. "Keep her--them--safe. Please." "And what will you give me in return, Severus?" "In--in return?" Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, "Anything."

[plush-rabbit]

Late Night Talks

Request: Hey! I hope you’re well sweetheart! I have a request, so I’m the youngest of my family (unfortunately) and a lot of the time I’m unheard and dismissed because of this, ngl I don’t have the best relationship with my family so it’s hard to connect with them, or talk to them. I kinda feel like white noise ya know? So Compress, Twice, and Dabi are my closest comfort characters. So how about them suddenly seeing the reader (probably late at night) talk about the things they enjoy with just stars in their eyes. It’s a harsh comparison to how they act during the day, it’s still them, but it’s just more raw.

🙇‍♀️

thank ya babes

A/N: I hope that you like this, I’m not sure what the harsh comparison was supposed to be but Im guessing it was supposed to be more reserved? (also babes, feel free to gush here, i love talking to yall)

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Bubaigawara Jin:

Jin’s need for interaction and want for friendship makes him the perfect partner to talk to. He loves talking to you, his legs bouncing and hands flapping as he mentions something that he likes. Sitting beside you, he does most of the talking, how energy out matched and while he does talk, he also looks to you for commentary, wanting to remember that he isn’t alone. There are rare instances when you two are alone that you’ll talk more. The roles will be reversed and you’re talking about anything and everything, smiling at him and for the moment when your eyes lock, he feels the weight on his shoulders lift.

It’s not uncommon to find the villian and you in a single room together at night, often the words will travel the halls and you have to muffle your laughter. This night is one of those- he’s in your room at night, resting beside you as you talk about this new thing that you’re into. You’re eager, shifting in your seat, a bowl of popcorn nearing the end of the bowl, kernels accidentally grabbed at. You’ve grown so excited, your words tripping over each other as you try to find a way to make yourself comfortable all while he stares at you. You’re processing the words fast, trying to tell the story in a cohesive way but with your excitement you are unable to. You look at him with wide eyes and a grin that can nearly blind him.

You’re different at night. He’s unsure whether because your mind has grown groggy with sleep or if it’s because the likelihood of someone interrupting the both of you has lowered, but you’re different. You’re much more prone to touch- you reach for him and you playfully push at his shoulder, your tongue stuck between your teeth as you give him a coy grin. Perhaps it's due to you being so touchy, that he grows bolder with his movements, grabbing your hand and playing with it as you continue to speak, the bite to his words softening whenever you tease at him.

If it were up to him, he would listen to you for hours on end, locking the door and making sure that you two could just talk until time ran out. But, he knows that that’s impossible, so he lays down on your bed, his head resting on his palm as his elbow digs into your pillow. You’re much different to him when the dim lighting is all that illuminates the room, your hair holding a soft glow, the features on your face almost softer and he’s unsure whether it’s exhaustion that grips at him or something else, but he wants to stay awake, he wants to listen to you every night. You mean a great deal to him and he wants to hear you speak, will take every word and keep the important ones so he knows what you like and what to do.

Despite being tired, he wants to continue talking to you, hearing you talk but the night continues to go on, the sky turning a softer shade of blue, and your words are starting to drift. Jin will take over at that point, laying beside you, talking as you start to drift. He mentions things that you said, making a point to mention that you were the one who came up with that observation and talk about how that really stuck out to him. You voice continues, your words growing softer and your gaze on him now barely peeking between your lashes and yet, he is unable to tell you to go to sleep. It’s selfish of him, but he wants to hear you talk until you’re whispering your words into a single breath. The next day, when you can barely keep your eyes up and you’re talking to him, he’ll have an inside joke, your grin widening as you take joy that he listened to you. Under the table, his knee nudges against yours, his smile ever growing when you return the gesture.

Dabi:

Dabi enjoys hearing you talk- it’s soothing for him, something where he’s able to rest his head on your lap and have you play with his hair as he listens to you gush about whatever it is that you like. However, while he does so, he realizes that he has a habit of falling asleep on your lap. It isn’t because you’re boring, you’re just nice to listen to. Laying with you and hearing you talk is one of the few times where he’s at peace, safe in your arms and touched gently. However, he’s noticed the implications of it, noticing that you don’t talk as much as you did. His piercings are warm as they press against his palms, his eyes half-lidded as he tries to figure out a way to make it up to you or to show you that he does actually care for what you have to say.

Unable to sleep, he arises from his bed, walking towards the living area trying to find some sort of sleeping aid. Instead of sleeping aids, he finds you curled up on the couch, the screen of your phone lighting across your face. You give him a smile as a greeting, your focus returning to your show. He can see heavy bags under your eyes- you’re forcing yourself to stay awake. The couch is soft under him, his arms spread as he turns his gaze over to your show. Without a word, you align your phone to make sure that he’s watching it, your words are whispered as you explain the plot and the characters but as you continue to do so, your words excite and your volume raises gradually.

The night is somewhat young and as far as he knows, there’s no mission that he has tomorrow. He has to fix his past mistakes and he wants to hear you talk. He pushes more, asking about the relationships between the characters and even wanting you to restart the series from the first episode- if you want to, of course. When you do so, he makes himself comfortable on the couch, stealing your blanket and laying down, offering for you to sit close to him in a much more relaxed manner. He covers the both of you with the blanket, his arm stretched behind your back and hand resting on your shoulder.

In between episodes, you start to muse once more, ranging from the metaphors to your favorite lines, and to the designs that you like. Your legs bounce, shaking as you try to contain your excitement despite it being written all over you. He gives you his full attention, nodding his head along as you ramble. Your words are rapid, your expression focused entirely on him and he wonders if you’ve always been hiding all this excitement. You’re much more animated, moving your hands and arms, shifting as you speak and there’s a certain tone to your voice that makes him unable to look away.

Every word of yours is coated in sugar and honey, and he clings to it, nodding along and looking at you with half-lidded eyes, unable to wipe the soft smile off of his face. The show is forgotten, your phone now showing him pictures from different stills and you’re much more relaxed, leaning against him, your head pressed against his side. You have a wide smile, your eyes shining with stars as when you look up to smile at him, he returns it as all air escapes his lungs. Once Dabi can properly think, he enters the conversation, offering more than soft hums and words of interest. At night, he can see your smile, the way that you look at him with wide eyes, the giddiness in your voice is enough to wake up from his growing slumber. He could fall asleep listening to you, but he doesn't want to miss how you look when it’s just you and him.

Sako Atsuhiro:

Atsuhiro adores hearing you talk. He’s rather eccentric, always wanting for the spotlight to be on him, but when you talk, he doesn’t mind being the one entranced by you. He wants to hear you talk, to see the light in your eyes. Yet, he can tell you’re holding yourself back- you play with your hands, tug at the ends of your hair, and laugh nervously as you apologize, telling him that you didn’t mean to talk for so long. While it’s true that you might talk over people, he knows it’s because of how excited you are, willing to share whatever is on your mind before the thought fades.

It’s a late night for him, phantom pains that make it unable for him to sleep and even with the medication acting as a placebo, he’s unable to truly find peace. He finds you in the kitchen, mumbling to yourself as you prepare a late night snack. He knocks against the wooden wall in an attempt to announce himself before startling you but you still jump, turning around with wide eyes and a parted mouth, before relaxing once you take notice that it’s just him. When you ask why he’s up so late, he gestures to his arm, making a strained face as his hand clamps around the residual limb, the pain sharp as it shoots up into his shoulder. He asks what you were muttering about and when you turn your head, your lips pulled into a straight line as you’re clearly flustered at having been caught, he laughs, telling you to tell him- to get his mind off of the pain.

You start off slow, mumbling between words and telling him about a new thing that you like. Your words increasingly start to grow with confidence, your eyes on him as you share your late night snack. He listens to you, nodding along and saving the best piece of the snack for you, his chewing trying to be quiet so as to not interrupt your words. While he also wants to start to talk about one of his hobbies, he much rather listen to you. When you do take a bite, he asks his questions, encouraging you to continue talking, his arm resting against the table and he leans towards you, eager to grasp at every word that leaves past your mouth.

Stars are in your eyes, your tone softer and you go to hold his hand, your thumb, index and middle finger hooking over his middle and ring finger, your eyes wide and smile whimsical as you talk. Under the bare light of the kitchen, you’re softer, your eyes shadowed and your touch gentle as you begin to toy with his hand. You’re passionate about what you talk, and he wonders if when you look so eager, and so full of life, if it’s only something that you show to whoever catches you at night, to someone who can glimpse a version of you so real that he’s almost at a loss for breath.

Sleep gnaws at him, but he is unwilling to do so. His pain is gone, replaced with a dull ache that he knows he can sleep off, but he has stars in his eyes as he listens to you talk. Your voice is soothing, your laugh like a lullaby that only pulls him in further to you. His hand is warm, hispalm tickled by your nails and the snack now lays forgotten on the plate. He almost feels bad for wasting food, but he doesn’t have the will to pull his hand away and finish the food that you prepared. Every word that you speak only makes Atsuhiro want to smile, to lay on his bed and think about you and how you spoke to him. You talk, and he’d do anything to keep your voice memorized, to stay awake long when you've fallen asleep just to remember how your voice lilts when you start to get excited or how it drops during a serious part as if you were telling him a secret.

[pink-bear]

NSFW Alphabet: Kazuichi Soda

Pink lemonade boy~

Stuff under the cut. Character is depicted as 18+

THIS IS 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

When he’s giving it, he always makes sure his partner has water, a snack if they request it, and plenty of kisses and praise. When he’s receiving it, he lowkey loves being pampered, it makes him feel appreciated :’)

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

When it comes to himself, he likes his hands. He’s good at using them, and learning to use them on his partner is one of the things he perfects first.

As for his partner, he’s a butt guy for sure. Perfect for grabbing and spanking! He also very much enjoys boobs, but it’s not a requirement!

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He cums a basic amount, and likes doing so inside his partner any chance he gets (whether it’s in their mouth or their downstairs area).

He also lowkey likes the taste of his own cum, and often times lick it off himself after he’s jerked off.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Loves smelling his partner’s undies, especially when they’re away for whatever reason. He’ll sometimes even wear them and masturbate in them, too. Dirty boy...

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s super inexperienced. A number of factors went into him not losing his virginity as a teen (his social awkwardness, his anxiety, the fact he wasn’t very popular, ect.). Pretty much all the stuff he knows is from porn, and actually executing that is awkward to say the least-

BUT HOPE IS NOT LOST! Like anything in this world, the more you practice, the better you get! Once he finds an understanding and patient partner, he’ll learn the ins and outs of being a good lover, and he’ll get the hang of it in no time!

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style. Gives him access to his partner’s butt, and he loves leaning over and leaving bite marks with them sharp chompers of his. He also likes how deep he/his partner can get, and how he/his partner can reach around and pleasure whoever bottoms as well!

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Some silliness can really help settle his nerves, especially his first few times. For sure he likes it when things are passionate, but having a little bit of goofy sprinkled in, especially afterwards, can really make the whole experience that much better. If he can both satisfy and make his partner giggle, then he’s on cloud nine!

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

His manscaping could be...better, but it’s nothing unbearable. Often times he just forgets to do it (this guy forgets to shower a lot too, pls be patient with him). If he has a date coming up, or his partner asks him to, he’ll trim things up a bit, but he never likes being completely bare.

And no, the carpet doesn’t match the drapes. Its black like his natural hair colour! Though he has thought about dying it too...

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

His attempts at being romantic can sometimes be a bit corny, but the passion is totally there. He’s not the best with words, but he’ll go on and on (and on and on) about how special his partner is when he’s truly found the one.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This poor guy jacks off A LOT. Being as sexually frustrated as he is, it’s not uncommon for him to crank one out daily. Once he finds a regular sexual partner it goes down, but sometimes he just can’t wait!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sexy car washes. Skimpy clothing, getting all wet and bodies being pressed against the hood of a nice car? Oh man, he’ll cream his pants in seconds.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

He loves doing it in his workshop, and probably has an old couch there for that very reason (though he’ll say it’s for relaxing/napping to anyone who asks).

Apart from that, you can’t go wrong with the bedroom! Especially if the bed is real comfortable~

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing his partner absolutely desperate for some fuck. Talk dirty to him, whisper in his ear, tease him, and he’s READY TO GO!

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything unsanitary (pee, poop, ect.), of course. He also doesn’t really like being tied up, since it causes his anxiety to spike when he isn’t able to move his hands.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers receiving oral, especially after a hard day’s work. He’ll happily return the favour, but it may take him a bit of practice to get good at it. Good thing he’s an eager learner! Just be careful with those teeth-

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on how he’s feeling. Sometimes when he’s real horny, he gets down to the nitty gritty. However, when he’s feeling a bit vulnerable, or he had a nice, peaceful day with his partner, he will for sure show his appreciation by being sensual and sweet.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

This man lives for quickies. A good stress reliever, and a good way to spend a break from work!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He love the idea of getting caught, but not so much actually running the risk of it. He prefers to do things in “private public places”. As in places that would normally be populated, but at certain times of the day are vacant with no actual risk. For example: His workshop after closing.

Actually getting caught makes him want to cry :’)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His stamina is kinda low, ngl. He can last a few minutes, maybe around ten at the most. He makes up for it however by the amount of rounds he can go, especially spaced throughout the day.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Soda loves toys! Vibrators are his favourite, especially using them on his partners. He also has a few sizes of dildos and butt plugs, fleshlights and some nipple clamps too!

He’s thought about making his own toys, but maybe that isn’t the best idea...

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Soda likes to tease, with that shit eating grin we all love so much. When it comes to his partners teasing him, however, he’s a total baby lol

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This boy is LOUD. Oh my lord, lots of moaning, groaning, whimpering and begging. And when he bottoms...honey, you got another storm comin’

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Soda wears a tank top and boxers under his jumpsuit. It gets pretty hot in that thing, so he doesn’t want too many layers.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His dick is uncut and pretty average in both length and width. He’s rather self conscious of it, seeing how the media portrays big dicks as the most desirable. Sometimes he even thinks of getting a piercing to “add a little something extra to it”, but is too chicken to actually go through with it. Eventually he learns it’s not the size of the boat that matters, but the motion of the ocean 🌊

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Soda’s unbelievably thirsty, it’s on his mind a lot, to a point it’ll sometimes get in the way of work. So once he gets a sexual partner, the first few months he’s gonna be pretty damn desperate for some fucc. He settles down eventually, but he can still get in the mood pretty easily, and will very rarely turn down an offer.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Once the sexy times are over, he’s out like a light. With the combination of his job, his anxiety and the strenuous task of love making, it really tires the poor guy out.

🌸🌸🌸

And there you have it! My first post on here WHOO!

Hope you enjoyed! And if you don’t agree with any of these, that’s fine! These are just my personal headcanons!

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