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#i tried to crop it so that there was no spoilers
romeowho · 6 months
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I LIVE FOR BRIAN MURPHY'S FACE WHEN SOMEONE ELSE SOLVES A PIECE OF THE PUZZLE AND IT SINKS IN HIS HEAD
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LIKE?!?!? IM LIVING
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tawnysoup · 4 months
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Learning to accept support
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itseghost · 3 months
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a few meager cr3 sketches :] ft feywild fearne, orym's sending stone blues, and the revival scene from blood and dust that i sketched ages ago and decided i was never going to finish lmao
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gradelstuff · 6 months
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My Hero Academia - Art Card Collection Vol. 1 from Jump Shop Online (2024)
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911bts · 8 months
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These are from Monday.
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flumpermergen · 7 months
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Babe wake up! New torturing Sigma chapter just dropped!!
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bladesofkyber · 2 years
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God of War: Ragnarök The family that fights together
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nightingaletrash · 1 year
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I want them to meet so badly
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It's about the inferiority complex to an older sibling, being betrayed (intentionally or not) by an important older female figure in their lives, the craving for approval from their primary father figure, a love of violence and expressing themselves through (unconventional) art, how desperately they yearn to be loved to the point that it drives them further into madness, and how they were both doomed from the start because of the environments they were raised in.
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Here's my little treat with their cheeks all flushed.
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cervidaedalus · 3 months
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AH! It's him! The-
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erinaeris · 3 months
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Laios Touden and the Responsibility of Power
First off, let me gush just a bit about how fucking STRONK this man is. Olympic weightlifters are dying of sheer envy and lust over this man. He is a FUCKING POWERHOUSE.
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My favorite panels ever, and judging by the cropping of the second photo, Tumblr agrees.
AHEM, where was I?
Ah yes. He's not just strong and incredibly hot, my man is literally an invasive species in this dungeon. He knows every single weak spot of every monster Thistle tried to throw at him and when he finds it he just fucking RAMS HIMSELF AT THEM AND TAKES THEM DOWN.
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And when he's a dwarf HE LITERALLY BENDS STEEL.
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"Beat Namari at arm wrestling"? My boy, she wouldn't let you anywhere near because you'd FUCKING BREAK HER HER HAND ALONG WITH THE TABLE. (It's such a fucking shame we didn't see Senshi at least raising an (perfectly plucked except it just grows that way naturally) eyebrow in the background when he sees this. Alas, he was too distracted by his hair.)
But I mentioned responsibility, didn't I? Strength is power in the dungeon, and we all knows what comes with great power. And Laios is, in fact, very responsible with that power!
(Futther examples under the cut, wee bit spoilers for anime watchers)
This scene lives rent-free in my head forever, because of two things: Thistle suddenly realizing just what the hell he's up against,
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And Laios breaking Thistle's arm.
Now, I think Laios didn't mean to actually break his arm here, he's just half-blind and dizzy and knows he has to restrain Thistle or it will all go to shit. So that's what he does. The move you see above is a restraining hold. The point is that the person pinned down can't struggle much because the position of the arm presses the suprascapular nerve, so it hurts a lot, but unless they're held that way for too long they'll be fine.
But Thistle is TINY and elves are generally fine-boned. I think Laios really did just underestimate his strength.
And the moment the dragons aren't an IMMEDIATE THREAT anymore?
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Laios heals him. Thistle's a better mage than him by miles, he could have done it himself. But no. Laios does it. He was too rough, too careless with his strength, and he immediately backtracked, fixed what he broke, and continued with more mindfullness.
And these are just the examples that stuck in my mind the most. And it happens often enough that the team isn't even fucking surprised! Laios' strength would 100% scare people who only saw him in a barfight and didn't know anything else about him. Hell, the other adventurers they meet fucking quiver before this guy who just took down a monster they had nightmares about in one blow, up until he opens his mouth and they relax. You put more malevolent software in that sort of hardware and he'd be the next Shadow Governor.
But Laios is Laios. He's a gentle soul at heart (a Great Pyrenese, specifically, the gentlest souls ever unless you're out for their flock) and he is VERY CAREFUL with his strength, ESPECIALLY around his team. Chilchuck, who is literally half his size and underfed to boot, can smack Laios as much as he wants with ZERO fear because Laios is aware he can hurt Chilchuck by literally tripping over him, so he just stays still and lets Chilchuck smack at him. I'd be surprised if he ever managed to leave a bruise. Chilchuck has to aim at Laios' weak spot (back of the knee here) just to get Laios to notice him!
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But because I have some experience with marital arts and close combat, I think the fight with Shuro exemplifies my point so fucking well! Laios is HURT here, he's living every autistic person's worst nightmare.
And he HOLDS BACK. His restraint is fucking IMMACULATE.
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Shuro is fucking lucky Laios still liked him when he started talking shit, because he would have broken his spine otherwise. Laios doesn't even take the fight seriously! He starts with a fucking SLAP.
Shuro retaliates with an actual punch (that does nothing but piss him off)
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Laios wobbles. Shuro HITS THE DIRT.
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And this is the part where he realizes just how outside his weight category he is. Shuro definitely has technique on his side, but that means jackshit when you need ten blows to to even bruise your opponent, but one hit from them will leave you drinking through a straw for a week. For a second there, Shuro thought he was in ACTUAL DANGER.
But instead of finishing the job, Laios tries to talk him down, which just sets him off again. Man was at his fucking LIMIT, and it snapped. Self-preservation who?
And the best part is? Shuro is throwing all his strength behind his punches and Laios just takes them, but Laios? He mostly pushed Shuro around!
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They're mostly grappling here, precisely because Laios is very conscious his friend is pretty fragile right now.
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And when he does have enough?
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Shuro is flat on the ground again, and Laios has a black eye and a bloody nose. He sits down and five minutes later he's ready to go! Like yes, Shuro was at a low point here, but he's been mowing through monsters at only a bit slower pace than Laios' party. He's no weakling regardless. And Laios had to HOLD BACK SO HE WOULDN'T HURT HIM. And it's so obvious that Maizuru takes one look at the two of them and leaves them to their toussling.
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When I saw her reaction I had to scroll back and take another look, because I was sure she would intervene! But she doesn't! She is aware of Laios' strength, she has to be, and she doesn't lift a finger to help her precious charge. She knows the big dog he's wrestling with knows to watch his strength.
And that's my whole point: my boi is STRONK AF! And he is very aware of his strength, and how he could hurt the people around him is he wasn't careful, so he is ALWAYS CAREFUL. He has deeply internalized the fact that to have strength is to be careful with it, to use it in service of people rather than to hurt them (possibly from his dad). He is going to SUCH a good king! He's not going to like the job but by GOD he will do it really well.
And I will give my right arm to see a fic about the first corrupt lord/governor/courtier who attempts to misuse their authority for their own gain. Kabru's gonna have to talk Laios out of an execution.
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sublimitymp3 · 3 months
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Do you, brother?
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Pairing ✵ Aegon Targaryen/Younger sister!reader
Warnings ✵ Hotd season 2 spoilers, incest, swearing, smut (Dub-con, p in v, fingering, choking, slight breeding kink), mentions of death, mentions of child loss, descriptions of birth, and heavy themes
Word count ✵ 2.6k
Summary ✵ The death of your son leaves behind a shadow upon everything, and after an overwhelming funeral procession for him, your evasive brother finally comes to you in the night.
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Jaehaerys
Your little boy. Jae-hae-rys. The syllables roll off your tongue in a smooth manner, as they always have done. Sweet Jaehaerys. The very thought of the name conjures memories in your mind of the day you labored him and his twin into the world, screaming and writhing in pain as you felt as though you were being torn apart at the seams. He was a small, splotchy babe, who exited you covered in blood and wailing and squirming in the maester's arms. But even through your delirium and searing pain, you knew then what love was.
He was a precocious boy, eager to learn and to explore the world. "He has the makings of a very fine king," you recall your grandfather telling you once. The thought of Jaehaerys on that throne made your stomach feel uneasy, and the words loomed over you, lingering in the back of your mind and refusing to leave.
Even now it still lingers.
The once dreadful notion has been reduced to a silly daydream, for Jaehaerys will never be king. He will never grow, never explore the world, never ride his dragon, and you will never cradle him in your arms again.
It feels wrong to carry on. It feels wrong to do much of anything with the knowledge that your sweet Jaehaerys will exist only in memory now. Your mother tries to console you, to hug you in her cold arms, but you do not want her now. After all, what does she know about losing a child? The funeral procession your grandfather insisted on felt even more wrong than anything else.
Your son, the martyr.
Hundreds of the smallfolk clambered over each other to catch a glimpse of your little boy, and you. Your tears bought their sympathy and a new resentment for Rhaenyra, but it mattered little to you. They had sewn his head back on, you saw. It was an ugly sight, where black thread met severed skin.
Jaehaerys
How you longed to climb over to the cart carrying his body just so you could hold your boy one last time, but your mother's steadying and sobering grip on your knee kept you from doing so. "Deepest sympathies, my queen!" "Curse Rhaenyra!" "We love you, our queen!" Their shouts of support felt more like a ringing in your ear than anything. You didn't want this. You only wanted everything to be quiet.
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You had a headache and felt nothing but exhaustion, and you couldn't even bring yourself to weep any longer. It was as if you were wrung dry. You cursed under your breath at the seemingly endless flights of stairs in the Red Keep, for all you wanted to do was to go and lay in bed. But then you saw him. First, you saw his hair, hair much like yours, only it was messily cropped short. Next was his eyes, violet in color and mirrors of your own. The scowl upon his handsome face, well, you didn't care for it, but you couldn't pry your eyes away. You found yourselves gawking at each other on the stairwell, and only then did you remember how much Jaehaerys looked like Aegon.
"Your grace, I-" Is all you can say before Aegon quickly turns away from you and hurries down the steps. You stand there, watching as the head of silver hair swiftly disappears from your line of sight. You snap your mouth close, pressing your lips into a firm line and continuing up the stairs. 'Foolish girl, when has he ever confronted anything in his life?' you cannot help but think.
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You don't see your husband for around two weeks. Fleeting glimpses in the hallways, mentions of him from your mother, and murmurs about the king from the courtiers are all you have of him during that time.
As you prepare yourself for bed, you try to banish all thoughts of him from your mind to get some semblance of much-needed sleep. The nights seemed so long and torturous now, and yet you hardly could find sleep no matter what you did. Tonight was the first night in what seemed like centuries that you finally felt tired, and you wasted no time settling into bed to drift into a slumber.
You dream odd things, nonsensical things you'll forget when you wake, mostly. And even more odd, you begin to dream of Aegon. Of his strangely soft hands on you, of him pushing your nightdress up to your hips, and of him maneuvering you onto your back. It feels real, but you know it isn't. He won't come near you, no, not now. But even your mind begins to suggest otherwise.
With an irritated whine, you feel yourself being pulled from your sleep. It is only when you open your eyes to curse at what you assumed was a maid disturbing you, that your assumptions are quickly proven wrong.
Aegon is on top of you, staring unblinkingly into your eyes. Salty, hot tears drip from him onto your face, and his hand clamps down over your mouth before you can question him. You must make a face unwittingly, for he begins to speak,
"Shh, shh, it's alright, it's just me...just me," Aegon soothes, and you smell the wine on his warm breath. He's drunk. Or at the very least near drunk. "I-I am sorry, sorry for you, sorry for our boy. Oh, my poor son," his words are ever so slightly slurred, and he retracts himself to sit on the edge of the bed and weep in his drunken stupor.
You sit up, a bit startled to discover your nightgown bunched up by your hips. Your smallclothes were even pulled down a bit, but not fully. You realize now what he was attempting to do, and you can only sit in a tense silence with him. "He was my son too, you know," he mumbles like a petulant child, once he catches a glimpse of your resentful face.
"I grieve him just as much as you, mayhaps even more. He was my heir, my only heir," his words linger in the stagnant air, not sitting well with you. His gaze unnerves you even more, staring at you expectantly. The implications in his voice are clear to you; he means to beget another heir.
"Take another wife then, I am tired," The brazen words escape you (before you can think) in a whisper, and you lay back down, wasting no time to turn your back to him. "I don't want to again, I can't again. No more, Aegon." and you close your eyes, letting your tears roll down the side of the face.
You refuse to subject yourself to it all over again. To the aches, the uncomfortable swell of your belly, and the terrible pain birth brought. You know what it will all end in. It's a deep knowledge that has burrowed itself between your bones, embedded itself in your brain, and wrapped around your heart.
The Stranger will come for you all, surely.
The bed dips again as he shifts himself closer to you, and he grabs your shoulder in a bruising grip to turn you onto your back. His face gets so close to yours that the tip of his nose nudges your own, and you feel his warm breath fanning against your lips.
"I wasn't asking what you thought of it. You're my wife, my little sister. You were born for me to have. A king needs an heir, surely you understand that? You're not a stupid girl," he brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, mockingly, almost.
He manages to wedge himself between your thighs, and you feel his wandering fingers pull down your smallclothes. "Aegon-" "Don't say a word, don't say a damn thing," he interrupts, irritated by your unwilling mood. "Wouldn't it be nice to have another little babe to rock in your arms? Hm? We'll make more, yes? Enough to fill this fucking castle," Aegon grunts, pushing his fingers past your folds. A whine involuntarily escapes you at the invasive feeling, and even more so as he pumps his fingers in and out.
In and out, in and out, in and out.
You feel your body give into his ministrations and get wet. 'Betrayal,' you think. A pleased hum escapes from him as you leak onto his fingers, and you feel your cheeks burn with shame. This isn't right. No, no after what has happened.
"You weep down here too, did you know, sweet sister?" He mumbles, pulling his fingers out of you just to drag them along your dripping folds. A shiver runs up your spine at his actions, forcing you to bite your tongue to muffle any noises. You don't want him to hear you. You don't want to give him that satisfaction.
He fully retracts his fingers, and you know what is next. He undresses himself quickly, untying his breeches and tunic with a practiced speed before pulling your nightdress off of you, leaving you vulnerable and cold. He chuckles at your little shivers and the way you wrap your arms around yourself protectively. "Shh, do not worry, you'll be warm soon enough," he laughs as if this is a lighthearted moment between two lovers. Your stomach churns slightly.
"You're so beautiful, you know. I've never thought otherwise. So pretty like this, all for me," he whispers against the shell of your ear as he lines himself up with your cunt.
The burning stretch of the intrusion is what you feel first. It has been long since he bedded you, and your body had forgotten the feel of him. "F-Fuck, how are you so tight? Like you're trying to squeeze me to death," he groans against your neck, before suckling bruises into your soft skin. He bottoms out completely, and you feel his tip brushing against your sweet spot.
It's overwhelming for you. It's too much. You close your eyes and let your mind drift to happier days. Days long before you called Aegon husband, days when you would play with your sister by your mother's skirts. Days when the most daunting task was getting out of bed or letting the maids bathe you. It almost brings a smile to your face. Almost.
Your blissful daydreams and nostalgia are interrupted by Aegon gently slapping your cheek repeatedly, rudely reminding you of where you are now. "Hey, hello, where are you? Look at me, for fucks sake," he grumbles, slowing his thrusts you only now are noticing. He grips your face in his hands, forcing you to stare into his familiar violet eyes.
It's cruel to have to stare into your own eyes while this happens, you think.
"Don't do that again. Think of me," he whispers against your lips, his voice a bit shaky and heavy with lust. "Only me, and this."
His thrusts resume, and his lips are soon pressed against yours. He kisses you with a greedy, bruising force as if he's trying to devour you whole.
"Messy girl," he muses as he wipes drool off your chin with his thumb, and the action is oddly tender to you. The tip of his cock keeps brushing against your sweet spot, making your mind turn to mush and your legs turn to jelly.
You hate how Aegon has this talent to make your resolve slip with only a few touches and kisses. You could be upset with him for weeks on end, and yet all he had to do was hold you down and you'd soon forget whatever grievance you held against him.
"A-Aegon, brother, please-" you whine, even more so as he maneuvers your knees to press against your chest. He holds you down like this and the new angle allows him to push further into you. The sound of skin against skin reverberates in your chambers around you as he drives into you at a faster pace.
"Stay still, stay still. Quit squirming, don't you trust me, sweet girl?" He huffed, still irked by your light resistance. His hand reaches back down to your weeping cunt, and his thumb rubs gentle circles into your bud. The added stimulation makes you cry out with overwhelming pleasure, and you feel like your very bones are gyrating.
"There we go," he smirks, dragging out his words. He's found the combination that makes you fall apart around him and he finds it satisfying. "You like that, don't you? 'Course you do, sweet girl. You were made for me, made to take my cock and bear my children. You were born to be mine. Nothing more, nothing less," He groans, his own peak beginning to build up.
His words ignite a fire in your belly, and it feels so wrong. His words are mocking, demeaning even, and on any other given day and situation you'd have retorted and isolated yourself from him until you calmed down. But this night was not simply any other night. His words and his movements bring you closer and closer to the edge, and the coil in your belly tightens up as it prepares to snap.
"Aegon, gods, keep going, please don't stop-" you moan, lost now in the bliss of it all. You selfishly buck your hips against his, desperate for your own impending release.
"I got you, pretty girl. Go on, let go for me, sweet sister," and with his words, the tightly wound coil in you snaps. It is a white-hot pleasure that wracks through your body, and you feel as though you are floating.
You come to when you feel Aegon increasing the pace of his already rough thrusts. He is close, you can tell. You have no strength to tell him to pull out, to beg him not to finish inside. He's fucked you too good for that. Maybe that was his plan after all, you think.
"F-Fuck, I'm so close, sweetling. I'll fill you up, make sure you're nice and full with my seed. In nine moons time, we'll have another little boy, hm? Another silver-haired beauty," he pants, before his grip that still pushes your knees against your chest tightens. He brings one hand to squeeze around your throat, and you feel his fingers dig into the sides of your neck. There will be a bruise there in the morning, no doubt.
His movements are rough and fast as he chases his release, and soon, his steady pace falters and his hips stutter to a halt. "Gods be good," he moans, slumping over to bury his face into the crook of your neck. Spurts of his warm and sticky seed coat your velvety walls, a familiar feeling. Surely you will be with child by the next month.
Exhaustion is what you feel. Exhaustion, and a pang of sadness in your heart. Another babe you will have to labor into the world, another pawn in this war. Another victim of this needless bloodshed, as brother and sister tear each other apart.
Aegon gently kisses your lips, rubbing your stomach with his hand, no doubt imagining you are pregnant already. "I love you, I really do." He whispers, holding you close and breaking you from those thoughts of impending doom.
Violet eyes meet violet eyes, and you gaze upon his features that are not dissimilar to your own. The very same blood that runs through you, runs through him. The same blood that ran through your son, you think. You do not know what to make of his drunken declaration, and it is like your body speaks for you then;
"Do you, brother?"
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jeonsweetpea · 2 months
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The Moon Knows Our Secrets (2) - Final
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Exes to Lovers!AU | Hybrid!Jungkook x Hybrid!OC | Soulmate!AU 
genre: angst, smut, exes to lovers, vampire/werewolf hybrid (emphasis on werewolf), soulmates, forced proximity
rating: explicit
description: He doesn’t remember loving you. How could he, when you’re the one who erased his memories? You run into him a year later at a wedding. The year after that he’s reported missing and you go off to find him. Then you wonder: did he ever forget you?
word count: 17.7k
warnings (SPOILERS!!!): tension, resentment, fight scenes (nothing too graphic), Boxer!JK, injuries, blood, spying, drama with exes, arguing, underground cage fighting with ill intentions, OC and JK wrestle for control when he goes into his rut, a magic spell gone wrong, biting, JK and OC's POVs are included, HAPPY ENDING
smut warnings (tread carefully): masturbation (male), JK later goes into his RUT, kissing, unprotected sex, thigh job, oral sex (male and female receiving), scratching, rough sex, face-fucking, standing sex, knotting, creampies, dirty talk, multiple rounds, multiple orgasms, hickies, nipple play, tummy bulge, lots of cum, marking, doggystyle, slight breeding kink (no pregnancy), slight dumbification, pain kink, brief mentions of anal, chains, hand jobs
a/n: This is an epilogue for my series Moonstruck (inspired by TVD), but it can be read as a STAND-ALONE! You do not have to read Moonstruck (but it will be more satisfying if you have 😉). This is the most smut I've written in a while and I tried out a new writing style too. I hope you enjoy it! Reblogs and asks always make my day, thank you! Or if you prefer AO3, I post there too.
| Part 1 | Part 2
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Six Months Later…
Another unknown number. You stare at your phone on the motel bed like the device is an uninvited guest as you step out of the bathroom, scrunching a towel around your damp hair. The clock on the wall reads midnight. 
Maybe it’s a client?
The call disappears before you can answer it, reverting to the lock screen—the wedding group picture from last year. You had cropped it where it showcases only you and Jungkook. It’s a tad pixelated from being zoomed in so much, but the same deer-in-the-headlights expression pokes through on both of your faces. He was holding you in a dip position because you had almost fallen. The memory makes you smile every time, and you need a little joy in this dreary room. 
You sit on the bed and the phone rings again, as if on cue. The towel is cast aside as you answer it, tapping the button for speaker mode. 
“Hello?”
“Is this Miss [Y/N]?”
Even your alarm clock can’t get you out of bed this fast. You’re up on your feet, placing the phone against your ear as your heart rate spikes. There’s no way. That deep, smooth voice was unmistakable, especially when it used to whisper the filthiest things in your ear. “Y-Yes, this is her. Who is this?”
As if you don’t already know. “I’m Officer Kim Taehyung, Headmaster Kim gave me your number.”
What’s the latest phone model in store? Because you’re seconds away from shattering the current one in your hands. Or maybe you should redirect your anger around Namjoon’s neck instead. You kept your words steady as you said, “Oh, I see. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I’m so sorry to call you at this hour, but I’m worried about a… a friend of mine,” he says. His hesitation on the “friend” label piques your interest. “I haven’t been able to reach him in a couple of weeks. I’m worried he’s gone missing.”
Wait. He’s an officer now? 
“If an officer such as yourself hasn’t been able to find him, that is worrisome. I’m assuming your friend is supernatural. Because that’s kind of all I do…”
“Yes, of course. He’s a hybrid.”
Your heart is lodged in your throat, unable to force the things you want to scream out. You had to take a deep breath before asking in a low voice, depicting how serious this is, “He’s a what?”
“A hybrid. Do you… know him?”
Do I know him… what a stupid question. You roll your eyes as if he could see you through the phone. “Text me everything you have on him. I’ll find him.”
“How?”
“Are you questioning my skills? I said I’ll find him.”
You hang up after that and collapse flat on your back, the mattress squeaking from your weight. You shouldn’t be so harsh on him; the poor man wasn’t up to date with all that’s happened. It’s not like he would know your history with Jungkook. Or you, for that matter. You made sure of that.
A buzz from your phone snaps you from your thoughts.
KTH: His name is Jeon Jungkook. His last known location was his apartment up north. I’ll send you the address and a picture.
He’s a man of his word, as the next text contains a map with the location marked by a round red pushpin. As much as you want to cremate Namjoon, Taehyung has given you the first lead you’ve had in months. If anything happened to Jungkook, you’d never forgive yourself. 
*Bzz*
Well, that’s new. It’s a picture of Jungkook under a white duvet, his arm bent, his head propped on his hand. Most of his body was covered, but the amount of skin showing at the junction between his neck and shoulder lets you know he is naked. Or at most, shirtless. Both are equally hot options if you have anything to say about it. 
His lips are pressed together into a coy smile, but his eyes are screaming “fuck me.” Like a personal challenge. 
KTH: Oops. I didn’t mean to send that picture.
You: It’s fine. I got the jist of what he looks like.
Why he has such a suggestive photo of Jungkook in the first place was concerning, but not enough for you to press further. 
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Jungkook’s Point of View
My guard is up as my opponent swings his fists. His moves have zero technique, relying solely on blind rage as he tries to knock me out. Too bad I was quicker than him, playing the defensive first while I decided the best way to secure my victory. 
As we shuffle around the caged ring, the burly man in front of me grows impatient, like a bull taunted by a red cape. The more he charged, the more I dodged. He hasn’t gotten a single hit in, which only spurs the crowd to cheer louder for me. 
My heart is battering around in my rib cage, excited from the adrenaline rush. Having the spotlight on me, adoring fans, and exerting my muscles makes me feel alive. I don’t focus on anything else. I can’t. If I want to win, I transform whatever turmoil brews inside me into determination.
The rules are simple: no weapons, no biting, only fists and feet. Classic brawl style. We may be wolves, but there are boundaries, or our pride would cause a full-on slaughter.
The guy in front of me is drenched in sweat, and I see how his movements slowed—he was getting tired. It was time for me to go on the offensive.
I launch a kick, aiming for his right side. He caught it without even blinking, earning a choral gasp from the audience. They assume I’m in a bind, but I focus all my strength on my other leg and smack the dude across the face at lightning speed. He fell with a resounding thud, but I don’t wait for him to regain balance. 
I hit him with all I got—jab, cross, jab, cross. Right hook, left hook. He cowered in the corner like a bitch and I knee him in the gut. It was like watching a boulder topple over, his pride smashed into smithereens. Throwing my arms up, I circle the cage to pump up morale. The crowd bangs their fists against the enclosure as I roar. The referee begins the countdown from ten. 
Another victory added to my streak. Maybe I’ll treat myself and get laid tonight. I can smell the eager ones in the room and when I first got here, I always turned them down to be modest. Fuck that. I’m finally going to do it. 
I scan the room for potential suitors when my eyes land on her. It was like tunnel vision where everyone else was blacked out and she was the light at the end. I’m nothing but a moth to her flame, so gobsmacked that I rub my eyes to ensure I wasn’t seeing things. 
When I come to, she’s gone. There’s no way. 
I worked so hard to get over her. Is my brain so fucked that it’s starting to make me hallucinate? It seems years of therapy did absolutely nothing. Thanks, Jin.
Next thing I know the big guy recovers and tackles me to the ground. He got a good hit in; I tasted blood. There was no time to dwell on a figment of my imagination. My thirst for victory shouldn’t be underestimated as I swing my fist square in his jaw. I wasn’t going down that easy. 
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Yikes. That’s a doozy.
I’ve been examining my face for five minutes now, hating how he split my lip open. Oh well. It’ll heal soon enough and I sent him home with far worse. 
That was the last fight of the night, so I had the locker room all to myself. The staff went home after sending the customers on their way. I go to my locker, type in the combination, and pull out a spare change of clothes and a towel. 
I head to the shower, placing my things on the bench. I undress, the first thing being my tank top, which had splotches of blood stained on the white fabric. Most of it wasn’t mine anyway, thankfully. I remove my shorts, discarding them in the same pile as my top. 
I enter the shower and close the curtain, turning the water onto the hottest setting. Once it hits my skin, I throw my head back and feel my muscles release its tension as I bask in the warmth. I tilt my head forward to get my hair damp when thoughts of her creep into my mind. 
It felt real. She looked real. I remembered everything about her appearance from head to toe even if I only saw her briefly. 
Her hair was dyed now to a color that suited her features. She had minimal makeup on that further enhanced her natural beauty. Her body was adorned in black skinny jeans where the seams were in front, matching her black combat boots and leather jacket. Underneath was a short-sleeved v-neck, her cleavage prominent and so inviting. Ugh. I shouldn’t be thinking about her in such a way, but where was I supposed to look? Her push-up bra was doing god’s work. 
Man, I’m so pathetic. I shouldn’t lust over her. She left me not once, but twice. What’s worse is she doesn’t know I remember everything. Maybe I shouldn’t have kept vervain on me that day. Would my life have turned out better? 
I dispense some body wash into my hands, lathering it between my palms before rubbing my torso. My hands trail down to my groin area, and I thoroughly clean it because sweaty balls are such a turn-off. But then I wrap my hand around the base of my cock, stroking it slowly. 
It looks like I’m washing it, but I already know what’s coming next. Memories of her are like shards of glass I can’t remove, embedded so deep that it scars. I reminisce about our past. How it felt to touch her, kiss her, love her. Her sweet moans, her soft breasts, her addictive scent. I’m palming myself and shuddering. Unlike her, my hands are calloused, but I pretend I have her soft touch.
I close my eyes and fantasize. I’d tear her clothes off with my bare teeth, mark all over her chest with my lips, turn her around, and take her. Indulge in my primitive urges and teach her a lesson. God, I wanted to fuck someone tonight, anyone, but my mind defaults to her. 
The soap makes it easy to glide my hand up and down my cock. I’m going much faster now, my breaths more ragged. No one’s here anyway. So I moan. I don’t give a fuck anymore. I just need to come and get this out of my system. 
I’m about to finish when there’s a gasp outside my stall. My entire body stills and I don’t take a moment to ask “Who’s there?” like the stupid idiots you see in horror movies. I think about what to do next and then commit. 
After turning off the water, I pull the curtain back and step out. I glance to my left to see the shower stall at the end has its curtain closed. It wasn’t like that before. 
I put on my boxers because I sure as hell wasn’t going to face this intruder naked. I plan to charge in there and drag him out without saying a word. Other than the sound of my footsteps, it’s eerily quiet. I reach my hand out, but as soon as I’m about to grab the curtain, the shower turns on. 
I hesitate, wondering if I’m about to be an asshole who’s about to expose an innocent soul out in the open. Before I built my reputation, I was jumped for being the new guy multiple times. That stopped after the third guy went home with three broken ribs though, but I can never be too careful. Some people were sore losers.
“Hey. Are you okay?”
Great. I’m not only stupid but polite. I’m sure the person behind the curtain will slit my throat any moment, so I better act fast. I grab the curtain and attempt to pull it, but it’s stuck. 
Or rather, someone is holding it still. I yank harder this time, but they refuse to budge. I use both hands, gripping it extra tight, and tug with all my might until the sound of torn fabric echoes in the room, revealing the culprit.
The person I thought I healed from, the one I once thought I would heal with, is standing right before me, her eyes as wide as mine. I can’t think straight, so my body moves without permission as I charge forward, pinning her to the wall face first. I have her arms pinned behind her back, catching my breath when I realized what I had done. 
I don’t want her to look at me. Because then I’d have to accept the fact that she’s real. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
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Your Point of View
Where do you start? Do you tell him you tracked him down to the countryside and climbed down a creepy cellar door behind a barn only to find out he was an underground cage fighter? Or explain how you followed him to the locker rooms hoping to get a word with him until you tripped on your shoelaces? 
It’s difficult to decide when he’s got your arms twisted behind your back. They were getting sore. 
“I–I heard you were missing,” you say, wary of your next choice of words. “Can you please let me go?”
You attempt to move, but he holds your wrists with one hand while using the other one to render your head immobile. He uses enough force to press your cheek against the cold tile.
“I didn’t say you could move,” he warned, his voice laced with venom. “Congratulations, you found me. I’m no longer missing.”
“And you’re a cage fighter?”
“What’s it to you?”
“You’re cheating. This place is only for werewolves and you’re a—”
He flips you around so quickly you almost get whiplash, your back pinned to the wall while he covers your mouth. He has a murderous glare, his jaw clenches, and the vein near his temple bulges out. “Be quiet. You never know who’s listening.”
Your eyes drink him in, ogling him unashamed because his beauty should have been illegal. His hair was damp, but you can tell it’s cut short now. He didn’t have any piercings in, his natural beauty was enough to make anyone fall to their knees—which is exactly what you wanted to do for him. But you don’t make a sound. 
You couldn’t help but notice the glorious sight of his inked sleeve. When did he get that many tattoos? You bet there was a story to each one, but before you can dwell on it, Jungkook shifts his hand from your mouth to your eyes. 
There’s a sense of deja vu from his actions. The last time he covered your eyes was to prevent you from compelling him two years ago. Following through with such a heartbreaking decision was difficult, but you believed it was for the best.
As for now? You’re not sure. 
“So you stalk me because you thought I was missing, follow me into the showers, and now you’re ogling me like a pervert?”
He got you there. “I… I didn’t mean to…”
“If the roles were reversed, I’d look like some sick freak. You invaded my privacy.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be. Let me ask you something, and I expect you to be honest: Were you listening to me earlier?” He saw you tuck your lower lip under your teeth like you wanted to seal the words shut. “Answer me. And don’t play dumb.”
“Yes,” you say, meek and pathetic. “I heard you.”
You can’t see him, but his eyes are crazed like he doesn’t know how to act around you. “And did you like what you heard?” He closes the gap between your bodies, his bare chest barely brushing against yours. His lips are ghosting across your own as he continues. “You like hearing me get off like some sick freak? Is that what you are? A fucking pervert?”
“N-No…” You don’t sound convincing in the slightest. 
His hot breath fans across your face. “I didn’t even get to finish.”
You gulp. “I… I could help you finish…”
Before your hand has a chance to sneak over to his lower region, he snatches it. “You aren’t allowed to touch me.”
“Technically, you touched me first.”
“Bratty now, are we? Don’t be flattered. I’d rather touch myself.” He releases your wrist, but his other hand is in the same spot, obstructing your sight. “I’m going to jerk off and you’re going to stand there until I’m finished.”
“What?”
“You heard me. And you’re going to keep hearing me until I’m satisfied. Understand?”
The constant steam from the shower was nearing the point of suffocation, but his words were far deadlier. “Okay.”
“Hands behind your back. I don’t want you tempted. Perverts like you can’t be trusted.”
You have to scold yourself for igniting a fire in the pit of your stomach from his slander, but you obey. Though you can’t see him, you hear the soft smacking sounds of him jerking his cock, surprised at how quickly he was to start.
If you had your sight, you’d be able to see how he is staring at your lips, wishing more than anything he could kiss you. How his eyes trail down to your cleavage and how the droplets of water made them look more enticing. His mind is racing a mile a minute through all his fantasies of how he’d take you, punish you, torment you until you were begging to come. As much as he does want to fuck you, you’re so damn gorgeous that admiring you was enough. 
His moans sound like soft sobs the closer he approaches his climax, his hand speeding up. It’s erotic, whiny, and sexy when he’s so desperate. He’s grunting through gritted teeth, panting like he’s running out of breath. You wonder if he makes the same noises when he’s working out. 
Fuck, you’d give anything to see him now. But his intentions were clear. You were to be still until he was finished. 
“Does this turn you on?” he asks, his voice shaky. He lays his chin on your shoulder, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “I’m close.”
He lets out a choked gasp, whispering “fuck, fuck, fuck” as he pumps himself as fast as he can, reaching his high and submitting to the pleasure. It’s unbelievably erotic and he comes in his hand, catching the spurts of cum. He pulls back and stares at your lips again.
“Open.” Your mouth obeys willingly and he shoves two of his cum-soaked fingers inside. You close your lips around them, sucking them clean and savoring his taste. It’s bitter and slightly salty, but you welcome it. “Good girl.”
The praise brings a grin to your face. He rinses his hand under the water, turns it off, and finally releases his hold on you. You see the large expanse of his back as he walks away, almost drooling at his size. He slips on a loose black T-shirt, sweatpants, and slides. 
He looks over his shoulder. “Do you need clothes?” 
The question makes your heart swell. “I’m good.” 
Jungkook hears you mutter words similar to Latin. He turns around to see your necklace glow when you rub it between your thumb and forefinger. Your clothes dry in an instant, and he chuckles. “When did you learn magic?”
“I’ve had some free time.”
He peers down to your feet, letting out a heavy sigh as he walks over. Getting down on one knee, he ties your shoelace and you can’t help but melt. 
“I hope you have some free time now,” he says, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “I’m not done with you yet. We need to talk.”
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It’s past 3 AM. The air is cool and crisp, carrying a faint scent of hay. Stars are twinkling in the clear night sky while the moon casts a silvery glow, illuminating silhouettes of barns in the distance. It’s quiet since folks are deep in their slumber, so walks home are usually serene. 
“Jungkook, wait up!”
Today’s an exception. “Hurry up, slowpoke.”
You jog to catch up to his pace on the dirt road. He rolls his eyes but slows his steps, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Didn’t you say we needed to talk?”
He stops abruptly, and you almost bump into his mountainous form. “Okay. Talk. Why are you here? You made it clear the last time we met that you couldn’t stay.”
You fumble with your words, as your brain isn’t quite as speedy as your lips. “Well I… I wasn’t in my right mind then.”
“Did I hurt you?” Your expression softens when you see the concern in his features, those brown doe eyes so big and round that you can see your reflection in them. Had he spent all this time fearing the worst?
“No… not in the slightest. I left because I was embarrassed.”
“I don’t believe you. You looked at me like…” He closes his eyes as if the next words would pain him. “Like I was a mistake.”
“No!” you exclaim, shaking your head. “You are anything but a mistake.”
“Then why do I feel like you’re hiding something?” He invades your space, his large frame towering over yours. “Why are you really here, [Y/N]?”
This is your chance to tell him the truth. With one command, you can make him remember loving you and all the shared memories that came with it. You’re ready to love him the way he deserves, but the thing is… you’re not sure you deserve him. Consequences were in order and pain was inevitable. He’ll hate you. He’ll feel betrayed.
Panic takes charge, forming an excuse for you. “I told you… someone told me you went missing. I was worried.”
He raises an eyebrow, prodding the inside of his cheek with his tongue like your answer was unsatisfactory. “Oh yeah? Who’s that?”
“Kim Taehyung.”
Jungkook drops his arms to his side. “Wow. That son of a…” He clasps a hand to his forehead, pacing back and forth in utter disbelief. “Guess I have two stalkers.”
“What exactly is Taehyung’s relationship to you?”
He stops and faces you, looking like you had offended him. “There is no relationship. There will never be a relationship, but he doesn’t seem to get that! God!”
You place your hands on your hips. “I don’t understand.”
He decides against elaborating but quickly changes his mind after seeing you use Taehyung to deflect.
“He’s an old roommate. We used to fuck. Okay?” Time seems to stop between you two but for an entirely different reason. You’re abhorred, unable to comprehend the fact your ex fucked your other ex. This must be the universe’s punishment for messing with their memories. Because the Jungkook you know would have never sought him out after everything Taehyung put you through.
You fucked my ex?! The dude who tried to kill you?! The guy who backstabbed us and harmed us?! Are you insane?!
You have to bite your tongue before the house of cards collapses. 
“I was experiencing my first rut. It was overwhelming. Not like I could fuck a human without hurting them. Permanently,” he adds, watching how your face morphs into one lost in thought. “What’s up?” 
You snap out of it. “Oh. Nothing. Before Taehyung, I went west because there were rumors of the ‘Cervix Splitter’ and thought…”
He stares at you, mouth agape as he points to himself. “You thought that was me?!”
“I don’t know!” you say, holding your hands out with your palms up. “I think they might have a serial killer loose… damn.”
“Can we please stick to the subject?” he asks, exasperation coating every word. You nod and gesture for him to continue. “Anyway, he and I ran into each other and one thing led to another. We were both hybrids with needs. It was a good arrangement, but then he got obsessive. Wanted a relationship. I said no.”
You give him a look of sympathy as you recall how Taehyung reacted when you broke up with him. Even though you erased your existence from his mind, it seems his obsessive tendencies lingered. Some things never change. “He didn’t like that very much, did he?”
“What do you think? I ran away, so he’d leave me alone. It worked for the past few months until you showed up.” He narrows his eyes into slits. “Did you tell him I was here?”
“No. He keeps texting me though.”
He points an accusatory finger at you. “You’re not going to tell him anything. Got it?”
“I won’t. But if you keep that tone up, I might reconsider,” you warn.
“And how would that benefit you? Do you know Taehyung?”
Unfortunately. “It’s my job to help those in need in the supernatural community.”
“What are you, the Scooby Doo gang?” He steps back to laugh. “Is this what you’ve been up to since you’ve left?”
“Don’t make fun of me,” you scold. “Helping is what I do. I’m good at it. It clears my mind.”
“Okay. Then you can ‘help’ yourself out of here. Tell Taehyung you didn’t find me while I go home and rest. I’m exhausted.”
He dashes off, leaving a trail of dust in his wake. You follow at once and encounter a quaint cottage surrounded by forestry. Jungkook waits at the front door, folding his arms across his chest.
“Do you need something else?” he asks. You swear you can see the cogs turning in his mind, unable to figure out what’s your angle.
“Are you going to continue fighting?” 
He shrugs. “Yeah. It’s a great stress reliever. Keeps me from…” His eyes flit to your lips for a brief second. “... overthinking. Plus I get great perks. Respect. Fans. Money.”
“You don’t need money.”
“I know, but it’s a power trip having it. Besides, people bet on me. I’d hate to let my loyal benefactors down.”
You mirror his stance, folding your arms as displeasure passes your face. “You’re a hybrid. It’s a given you’ll win every fight and that’s not fair to their pack.”
“Only if they find out.” You’re about to counteract his argument, but he beats you to it. “Look. Boxing’s my thing. I enjoy the rush it gives me. Exerting my muscles, feeling that sweet burn, and fighting until my body gives out—it’s addicting. I feel alive.”
His eyes shimmer with every word he speaks like he was putting on a speech to inspire high school kids. It only brings you more dread when there’s a confession on the tip of your tongue. 
“Well… do you have to box here?”
“I like it here. Now if you don’t mind…”
He pulls out his keys, turns around, and inserts them into the lock. You nibble on your thumbnail, scrambling to come up with another excuse. Once he enters, you use your enhanced speed and invite yourself in. 
“Can I stay?” you ask, quick to shut the door. He chuckles, impressed by your tenacity.
“What is with you? Don’t you have a Cervix Splitter to catch? Please leave.”
The words bubble up in your throat, forcefully coming to the surface like word vomit. “You can’t stay here!”
The outburst garners his undivided attention as he stares at you dumbfounded like there is Wii music playing in the background. “Why?”
“There’s some people who know you’re a hybrid…” you reveal, your voice reduced to a mere squeak.
“What did you say?” he asks through gritted teeth. You don’t reply and he repeats himself, this time with a lower volume, which spooks you more than if he was shouting. “What did you do?”
“When I came here to find you, I asked if anyone saw you. I showed them a picture and told them you’re a hybrid. Thought it’d make it faster…” You let out a small laugh. “I was kinda right…”
Jungkook looks like he’s at a crossroads of whether to hate you or murder you. Or both. “Why would you expose me like that?”
“I didn’t know it was a secret.” He lifts his fist at an angle toward the door, and you wait for him to slam it down in anger. However, he sighs and lowers his hand slowly, splaying his fingers against the wood. You blink twice, choosing your next words carefully. “I don’t understand. Why would you hide the fact you’re a hybrid?”
He holds onto the sides of his head like he is about to rip his hair out. “Oh, I don’t know,” Sarcasm is dripping in every word. “Did you forget how your grandparents tried to kill us when they discovered your existence?”
What did he say?
His hands drop down by his side as do yours. Realization dawns upon you two, the world coming to a screeching halt. Shock renders you immobile as the gears in your head try to turn, but they’re overwhelmed by the million questions plaguing your mind. He shouldn’t know that. He shouldn’t remember that. Unless… he never forgot.
“You remember me… You remember everything,” you say in a breathy tone. You should’ve seen it coming, especially with how he acted at the wedding. “How do you—“
“I had vervain on me,” he confesses without the slightest remorse. 
You take a small step back, almost stumbling. “So this whole time… you never forgot me? You knew what I did and didn’t say anything? You slept with Taehyung?!”
“That’s what you got from this? That’s what you choose to focus on?” His question pins you for a fool. 
“Because that’s the stupidest thing you could’ve done! I erased his memories so he could start fresh. Same with you!”
“What difference does it make? I asked, no, I begged you not to erase my memories and you did it anyway.”
You steel yourself to remain calm. “Because I didn’t want you burdened by me anymore. I thought I was doing what was best for you.”
He tilts his head, his eye slightly twitching as he raises a finger like he is about to lecture you. “Stop. Stop saying it was best for me when the reality was, you were only thinking about yourself.” He takes a sharp inhale. “You wanna know why I got with Tae? Because I was a mess when you left. Devastated. Broken people look for broken people, [Y/N].”
You threw your head back. “Oh my god... This is precisely why I wanted you to forget.”
He almost snarls. “You don’t get it, do you? You always do this. You make decisions without my consent. I never asked to be a hybrid, I never asked for any of this shit.”
You place a hand on your chest, offended. “I’m sorry, you’re upset I turned you to save your life?”
“You turning me was what started this whole mess,” he spits out, revulsion apparent. “I was sired to you, I fell in love with you, I went through hell and back only for it to not matter in the end. You left me. I could forgive you the first time, but not for the second.”
There aren’t any words you can say to combat this. 
“I remember everything about you. About us,” he says, the look in his eyes resembling a kicked puppy. “I remember what you said the day you tried to compel me.”
“Don’t,” you plead. He throws your words back at you in a rather snarky manner.
“‘When I’m ready, I’ll come to you and you can decide then if you’ll have me.,” he quotes. “I used to think I’d be okay waiting for you to come around… but that was incredibly stupid. You came back only to abandon me again and for what? To go around playing vigilante?”
“Jungkook…”
“No, I’m not done.” He starts to pace back and forth. “Did you ever stop to think about what I wanted? Of course not. Because in the end, it’s all about you. You should’ve erased everything. What was the point of only erasing my love for you, huh?”
“What do you want me to say?” you ask, fighting back tears.
“I want you to tell me the truth. You erased Taehyung’s memories of you because he was a psychopath but spared me the smallest glimpse. Why? Why not erase it all?”
“Because I love you!” you exclaim. He stops pacing, shooting you a skeptical glare. “And knowing that you still remembered me, even a tiny part of me, was comforting enough to help me move on. I needed space.”
“Well, isn’t that sweet? But I’m not your safety net, [Y/N].” He walks over to his front door and pulls it open. “Get out.”
You shake your head. “Jungkook, please.”
“Either you get out or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and force you out.”
The resentment he had must’ve grown exponentially over the years. If you push him further than you already had, he might snap. So you exit his house but go for one final attempt at whatever relationship you can salvage with him.
“Please let me stay. I can protect you from those cage fighters if they decide to get even.”
“No. You’ve done enough.”
“Jungkook—”
“Enough!” His voice carries, causing birds to flutter their wings and find solace in another tree further away. You watch as he towers over you again, but beneath his icy glare is a heartbroken man. “Since I first saw you, I have belonged to you completely.”
He tightens his fists, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath before saying the next part.
“I have always belonged to you. And for that, I suffered. I came here to escape, to heal, and it worked. I was at peace and you waltz in here, stirring up chaos in my life where it’s not welcomed.” His eyes never waver and you don’t dare look away. “And what’s funny is how you expect me to do what? Take you back?”
“I… I don’t know. I thought…”
“You thought wrong,” he finishes for you. “Do you think it’s easy seeing you? I’m angry, [Y/N]. You make me so mad I can’t even think straight.”
“Then yell at me! Don’t push me away.”
“I’m pushing you away because I know you. And I know what hurts you the most.” He caresses your face longingly, slowly, like it’d be the last time. His fingers ghost the surface of your skin, and you lean in, desperate for more. But he pulls back. “Either you choose me or you lose me. And it’s too late to choose me now. Goodbye [Y/N].”
“No,” you say like a stubborn child. “I don’t want to leave you. I’m afraid to lose you. Please.”
He clicks his tongue at you as he shakes his head. “I suggest you face your fears. It’s not like this is the first time.”
The last thing you see is the door being slammed in your face.
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Jungkook’s Point of View
That was the worst sleep of my life. I couldn’t stop thinking about her and how I left her. She deserved all my venomous words, but empathy made me regret everything. Why do we even need such an emotion when all it does is make us feel like shit?
It’s pitch black in my room. The low-pitched sound of the air conditioner is my only companion. I enjoy being alone, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get lonely. I shouldn't get used to missing her, but I’m used to it again. I wish she were here.
I decide to get dressed and quickly leave the house. For once the angel and devil on my shoulder agree, pressing me to find her but for two different reasons. One says to forgive and forget, the other craves to deliver punishment and commit sins. 
I tell myself I’m going hunting instead. Rabbits and squirrels fall prey to my clutches and I feel a pang in my heart when I drink their blood, but I have to survive somehow. Before I knew it, it was dark outside and the moon looked lonely, almost like it was crying in the night sky. 
I couldn’t find her. I searched all day, but the countryside is vast, and I’m drenched in sweat. Checking the time on my watch, I see I’m late for my next fight. 
Shit. 
It’s fine. She’s an Original Hybrid and can take care of herself. 
Rushing back to the barn, I circle to find the angled cellar door. I pull the handle, descend downstairs, and run into one of the bouncers. Aside from cage fighting, the underground establishment is used for clubbing and drinking most days of the week. I hear the heavy bass from the music, feeling the ground shake from the vibrations. I greet the bouncer with a handshake, but he stares at me like I had pissed in his thermos. 
“Ms. Lim wants to see you,” he says, his voice gruff. He gestures his bald head towards the door that says “AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY” on the right, so I head there. There’s a narrow hallway and at the end of the corridor is her office. I slowly open the door. 
“Jungkook,” Her nasal voice already has a trace of annoyance as I poke my head in. She’s sitting behind her desk with two henchmen about twice my size, both dressed in suits with their hands clasped in front. “Come in please.”
I do what she says and she points to the chair in front, so I sit. “Hello, Ms. Lim. I know I’m late, I’m sorry. Can I have the next fight?”
Her mouth twitches. “No. We need to talk.”
She snaps her fingers and the two bodyguards stand on either side of me, each placing a firm hand on my shoulders. When I squirm, they hold me tighter as if cementing me still. I let out a nervous laugh, feigning innocence. “What’s going on?”
The middle-aged woman adjusts her thick-rimmed glasses, scoffing like I was being impolite in the presence of royalty. “I run a tight-knit business, Jungkook. My wolves… They follow me. They listen to me. Because I’m honest and upfront. I don’t dish out bullshit.”
She stands, placing her hands behind her back as she circles the front of her desk, closing the gap between us. 
“Wolves like to fight. It’s in our nature to have some aggression. Here you can release it in a healthy, controlled environment,” she says. “When you first arrived, I liked you right away. The sheer arrogance you had, the drive to win—you were a natural for the ring. People bet on you because you never let them down.” She leans against her desk, lowering her glasses onto the tip of her nose bridge to look at me. “You don’t want to let people down, right?”
The bait can’t be more obvious, but I indulge her anyway. “Of course not.”
My answer seems to placate her and she puts her finger under my chin, tilting my head up. “Then I need you to tell me the truth. What are you, Jungkook?”
“I’m a wolf. Just like you, ma’am.” Not like that was a complete lie. I am a wolf. Half.
She grips my chin harder, her pupils blown so wide that they overtook her irises. “Is that all?”
“Look, it’s clear you know something so why don’t you…” She whips out a pistol from underneath the slit in her long dress and I stare down the barrel without moving a muscle. 
“There’s no fear in your eyes. Probably because you know and I know that this crummy little thing won’t kill you.” She pulls the trigger, but the shot is empty. I try my best not to scowl as she puts it away. “One of my men ran into a strange girl yesterday. She was hysterical, almost aggressive in asking about you.”
“Make your point.”
“She told me you were a hybrid. Is that true?”
I lean back against the chair, my shoulders less tense now that the secret is out. “Yes. So what? I’m still part wolf.”
“You’re half-wolf,” she corrects. “I don’t give a damn about you being a hybrid. But I do care that you weren’t fully transparent with me. And people talk. Word gets around I’m letting a hybrid take all the winnings and my business is done.”
“No one has to know.”
“Oh darling… she blabbed all over town about you. I’m sure everyone already knows. But I have a deal for you if you want to stay.”
Judging from her toothy smile, the chances of this deal being more beneficial for her than me are high. “What deal?”
“Do you know how much money I can make if I put two hybrids against each other?” she asks, flashing a smirk. “Especially with a pretty little thing like her against someone like you. The crowd would go wild.”
I shake my head. “I’ll pass. She’s not into cage fighting and I don’t hit women.”
“Who says she’s not?” I don’t like her tone and the insinuation behind it. “Darling, who do you think is taking your place right now?”
“What?”
“[Y/N] is fighting her heart out at this very moment. The wolves adore her. Probably because I said whoever beats her gets to breed her.”
This time I force myself to stand, knocking out both men when they attempt to grab me again with a one-two combo. They collapse with a resounding thud, and I head straight for Ms. Lim. I’m holding her dress collar and lifting her in the air, but she remains unphased.
“Where is she?”
“I see she’s important to you.”
“Where is she?!” I shout, not caring that I spit on her. 
“She turned you, right? How’d she do it? Did you two have sex?”
“I’m not asking you again,” I warn. She wraps her hand around my wrist, her irises shifting to a muted gold as she pries my hold off her, dislocating my hand. I curse in pain, fully prepared to retaliate, but she snaps her fingers three times. 
I hear footsteps from behind me and the door opens with a loud slam. Looking over my shoulder, I see about fifty men in black suits who are bigger than me enter the room. They all bear matching stoic expressions, but their fists are up and ready as their pointed glares shoot in my direction. 
“There isn’t much information on hybrids and experimenting on an Original is too good of an opportunity to pass up. I’m sure my boys would love to breed her. Then business would be booming with hybrid fighters at my side!” Ms. Lim cries.
My blood is boiling and I swear I’m seeing red. I snap my wrist back into place without breaking eye contact and backhand her across the face. She falls to the floor, stunned, holding the side of her cheek. “I thought you said you don’t hit women!”
“My apologies. I meant beautiful women.”
Three men grab me—one at each arm and the last holding my waist. The others line up, each taking a jab at me. The first punch is aimed at my stomach. One breaks my nose. Another hits me square in the jaw. I see stars by the time Ms. Lim stands, holding her hand up for them to stop. 
“How dare you? Oh, I’m going to make sure your little girlfriend is knocked up. Poor thing has no clue what plans I have for her.”
I muster enough strength to spit at her, flicking droplets of blood onto her face. She shrieks in disgust and slaps me in return. I only laugh like a madman.
“Good luck… she’s infertile…” I say, trying to find my breath. “And my girl can take care of herself. She won’t lose.”
“It’s okay. I can still find plenty of uses for her. If my boys can’t breed her, they can still fuck her once they’re done with you. I bet she screams pretty,” Ms. Lim says.
“You’re lying!”
“Am I?” She snaps her fingers again, prompting the last man who punched me to step forward. He pulls out something gold from his pocket, dangling it in front of me like a carrot for a rabbit. My face falls when I recognize the double moon charms. “Mr. Ahn here is the first one that defeated [Y/N]. He’ll get to have her first.”
The douchebag has a devilish grin as he slips the necklace over my head. He pats my cheek twice before smacking it hard on the third. I bare my teeth, more than ready to kick his ass, but other men are holding me still.
“I’m going to check the status of our beautiful prize and see if she’s ready for Mr. Ahn,” Ms. Lim declares, exiting the room with the sleazy bastard. Right before she closes the door, she sticks her head in and adds, “Whoever gets that necklace from him gets to have her next.”
The door shuts and I’m shouting curses at her until my throat is hoarse. All sense of self-control goes out the window as I unleash my wrath, my anger blinding me as my fists take control. In cage fights, I’ve had to hold back. But now? I’m ready to demolish anyone who gets in my way.
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Your Point of View
After Jungkook kicked you out, you roamed the area for a place to stay. With your abilities, you had endless options: an inn, a motel, a farmhouse, or even the forest if you prefer. Heartbroken, you planned to wolf out until a middle-aged woman found you on the side of the road. 
She drove beside you, parked her car, and rolled down her windows. Your first instinct was to walk away, but she mentioned Jungkook and how she was his boss. She told you how her place wasn’t too far away, offering a place for you to stay the night. 
Questions kept pouring out of you, but she wouldn’t answer until you agreed to her offer. Your guard was up the whole night despite the fact she was a werewolf too. She doted on you with tea and snickerdoodles, but you didn’t dare take a bite until after she did.
Though you were on edge most of the night, her aura was warm, like a grandmother’s love or what you could only imagine as such. Your grandparents tried to eradicate you for being a hybrid, believing that your existence was an abomination. It’s funny how Ms. Lim, someone not blood-related, treated you far better than they ever did.
She answered your questions about Jungkook, but you didn’t dare overshare about your relationship with him. She persuaded you to join her the next day at work, offering the gym and free training sessions with her best fighters. You weren’t sure at first, but then ultimately gave in.
The next day Ms. Lim gave you a tour of the underground cellar and you couldn’t believe how massive it was. Everyone you encountered greeted you like one of the family, and you got to learn new fighting techniques with her bodyguards. 
When it was nighttime, Ms. Lim suggested you fight for real. You worried it’d be unfair, but she assured you the opponents were more than willing. 
Your first opponent is a man who looks like the descendant of a Viking. His muscles are so large you can see the veins bulging underneath his skin. He gives you a crooked smile, which you would’ve found somewhat attractive if he hadn’t made a sexist comment the next second.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in the ring? Hasn’t no one swept you off your feet and wed you yet?” You make the first move and use his words against him, sweeping him off his feet with your leg. He falls flat on his back and laughs while the crowd cheers. “It’s a shame. You’d make a great mother.”
“I’ll pass,” you say, sounding extra snarky. 
“Come on. You know you can’t beat me.”
The man got back up only to be taken down again with a skillful spin kick, causing his back to slam against the cage. You smirk as his expression shifts to anger, and he tackles you to the opposite side like a mad bull. Grunts come from both sides as you use your elbow, jabbing the top of his head until he lets go. 
You jump high and hang from the top of the cage, using your strong thighs to hold his head hostage. His oxygen depletes as his face turns purple, clawing at your legs but you don’t let up. His hands fall to his sides before his body collapses. Only then do you let go and land in a cool pose, feeling like a superhero. 
The crowd goes wild and you jump up and down like a kid who scored the winning goal. “I did it!”
You see why Jungkook loved this place so much. It’s an indescribable feeling, a rush of exhilaration as glory consumes you. 
Once you see Ms. Lim and her main bodyguard, you step out of the ring and greet her. “Ms. Lim, did you see? I won!”
She wraps her arm around your shoulder, giving you a toothy grin. “I know. I told you you’d do well. Let me show you your prize.”
You gasp. “I get a prize?” 
She leads you through the sea of fans. “Of course. Everyone gets compensated.”
You enter a door that leads you to a narrow hallway. The lights were dim, but it was enough for you to see something horrific. From where you stand to the door at the end are unconscious bodies strewn across the floor. Some are slumped against the wall, others are flat on their back or stomachs, each carrying some deformity. There’s blood splattered on the floor, but it wasn’t gorey enough to be deemed a bloodbath (though the sight was still alarming).
“What the fuck happened?” you ask. Ms. Lim screams in shock when she steps in, covering her mouth as she stumbles back. If not for Mr. Ahn, she probably would’ve fallen.
The door at the end of the corridor opens and you hear ragged breathing. There you see Jungkook stagger out, barely able to hold himself up with one arm. He has cuts on his face and a black eye, so his vision is halved. His tank top is in shreds, the fabric hanging by a thread as it dangles from his bruised body. 
He regains part of his strength once he sees you. “[Y/N]?”
You rush over to catch him before he falls. “Jungkook, what happened?!”
He’s putting his entire weight on you, close to fainting. But one look at Ms. Lim and he’s fired up. “That bitch… I’m gonna kill her…”
Ms. Lim wastes no time, urging Mr. Ahn to run away with her while you’re left bamboozled. “Ms. Lim?”
“She’s going to pay… She’s going to…”
Jungkook can’t fight his body’s limits anymore. The last thing he sees is darkness.
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Sunlight pours through the window, stirring Jungkook from his slumber. He slowly opens one eye, surprised to see snow-covered trees and clear skies outside. In a daze, he sits up, holding his side as a sharp pain shoots through his body. He’s quick to notice his upper body has been covered in gauze and bandages. 
Whoever did it was meticulous. His chest and shoulders are tightly bound in layers, protecting his battered torso. The bandages crisscrossed over his ribcage, some were wrapped around his biceps, with the gauze extending down to his forearms. Bloodstains seeped through while he was asleep, but they don’t warrant any concern for now.
Jungkook touches his face, finding the cut on his cheek and upper lip taken care of. His other eye is no longer swollen, allowing him to observe his surroundings. He sees he’s in a cozy room, the wood ceiling and floors making him believe he’s at a lodge. There’s a large window to his right as well as a nightstand. The lamp sitting atop casts a warm golden glow, and Jungkook turns it off by pulling the string. 
There’s a gentle knock on the door. “Jungkook? Are you awake?”
He lays back down, covering his body with the duvet and closing his eyes as if he had never woken up. The doorknob jostles as you enter the room, holding a cup of water. You see his state and tip-toe closer, setting the mug on the nightstand. 
Staring at people while they sleep is creepy, but Jungkook looks angelic. Even if his face was marred, it didn’t stunt his beauty. If anything, his injuries made him more beautiful, the bandages being proof of his protectiveness. What he was protecting, you don’t know. 
“When you wake up, we seriously have a lot to talk about,” you whisper, pulling a nearby stool to sit on. “I don’t know why you did what you did. Ms. Lim and her men were so nice to me. She let me stay at her place after you kicked me out.”
You stick your tongue at him like a brat but end up giggling at your immaturity. 
“You were right to kick me out though,” you say, sighing. “Even with the best intentions, I can’t make things right. I’m sorry. Trust me, no one is more frustrated with me than me. That’s why when Ms. Lim suggested for me to fight, I didn’t hesitate.”
You ball your fists. “But it was so fun. I won my fight like bam! Bam! Bam!” You punch the air at each onomatopoeia, and Jungkook has to refrain from laughing. Why were you so cute?
“I get why you do it now. I’ve always had to fight for survival. I didn’t think it could be… gratifying. Anyway, I support your cage-fighting career,” You purse your lips. “But I guess you don’t have one anymore, considering what you did back there. I’m honestly confused. Why did you hurt them? I chased after Ms. Lim and uh… well, she burned your house down.”
You wait a second as if he’d respond. “She told us to never come back with no explanation… I didn’t even get my prize for winning,” you huff. 
Jungkook grunted, almost like he didn’t like what he was hearing. He turns onto his side, so he’d be facing away from you and wraps himself in a blanket burrito. The spot where he once lay had something gold in it. You carefully pick it up and caress the double moon charms with your thumb.
“My necklace…”
You stare at the back of his head, the gears in your head turning as you try to put the puzzle pieces together. Upon closer inspection, you notice faint bloodstains on the back of the charms and some on the chain.
“Did one of those men have my necklace? You beat up thirty men for it?”
“It was around fifty, but who’s counting?”
Your breath hitches, wondering if you were hearing things. Jungkook slowly sits up, resting his back against the headboard and flashing a cheeky grin. Heat spreads to the apples of your cheeks. 
“Were you awake this whole time?”
“Maybe.” He gives you a quick once over. “Are you hurt? Did anyone touch you?”
“Hmm? I’m fine. I should be asking you that. You took a beating and I’m still confused as to why.”
He slumps against the headboard, sagging like a dramatic blob. “God, you’re dense.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? My necklace is all bloody… was this the prize Ms. Lim intended to give me?”
Jungkook rolls his eyes so far back they might as well get stuck. “Ms. Lim’s prize wasn’t the necklace. It was you. You were her men’s prize after the fight. She planned to let them have their way with you.”
Your eyes fall to the ground, your heart heavier than an anchor in a bottomless sea. Jungkook sees how you clutch the necklace in your fist, wishing he hadn’t revealed the truth so bluntly. 
“Hey… I’m sorry,” he begins. “I didn’t mean to…”
“No. I was naive. After what happened with my grandmother, I thought Ms. Lim was different. Anyway,” you say, changing the subject. “That’s why you did what you did?”
“I thought she had you trapped somewhere. Or that without your necklace, you were at a disadvantage. She told me Mr. Ahn defeated you and I just went berserk at the thought of something happening to you.”
It’s hard not to see the love he has for you in those beautiful eyes of his. “I never fought Mr. Ahn, but I’m pretty sure I would’ve won. I’m freakin’ awesome in the ring.”
Jungkook chuckles. “I know. I never doubted your skills. She riled me up and I assumed the worst.”
“Well… Thank you for looking out for me. I’m glad to have my necklace back. I thought I lost it for good.”
“I thought I lost you.”
Time comes to a standstill. No more words are shared, yet so much is being said through simple eye contact, an unspoken language only the two of you understand. Your hearts are burning, aching with desire, but you don’t dare act on it. You don’t deserve him. At least, that’s what you tell yourself to maintain restraint. 
“Can I put it on you?” he asks, pointing to the piece of jewelry in your hand. 
“Oh! Yeah, sure.” A white glow emits from your fist and when you open your palm, Jungkook sees the necklace is spotless. You hand it to him and shift positions, so your back is towards him. He scoots closer, his legs now dangling off the bed. 
When he brushes your hair away, your body tenses up. You see the gold chain from above before it settles on your collarbone. Jungkook leans in, getting a better view of the clasp but struggles to attach it. Seconds tick by like hours, but you don’t mind how long he takes. His hot breath on the nape of your neck is distracting you anyway.
“Almost got it…” he mumbles. And thank goodness too because you didn’t realize you were holding your breath the entire time. Once he’s finished, he leans back but you turn your head to the side and almost end up kissing him.
“Oh sorry, I—” You move away, but he places his hand on the back of your neck, holding you in place. 
“Stay.”
Stay still? Stay with him? Whatever he meant, it sounded like a command, a challenge, a test. You’re entranced by how close he is, your nose about to touch his, and his lips—fuck. They’re drawing near, but he stops a centimeter away and smirks like a damn tease. You swear you’re on fire, the heat radiating off his body further exacerbating things. 
His eyes droop down, but it’s not to your lips. Rather, he takes his free hand and holds the double moon charms between his forefinger and thumb, sliding it until it’s positioned in the center. 
“There,” he says, still far too close. There’s a deep yearning in his eyes, a passion he longs to share with you, but he’s holding himself back. “Don’t go anywhere.”
You pout. “What, suddenly you’re okay with me around?”
“Seeing you drives me mad, but not seeing you makes me insane,” An aw almost slips out of you, but you nod instead. “I’m trying so hard to hate you…” he whispers.
You match his volume. “Why?”
“Because it’s easier than admitting the opposite.” He finally releases his hold and leans back, allowing you to regain a semblance of sanity. “So where are we exactly?”
You fiddle with your necklace and try not to dwell on his words. “I used a teleportation spell and it took us here.”
“Randomly?”
“No. I didn’t know what to do, so I cast a spell to take me to Professor Jin. He’s here with Namjoon. They’re on vacation.” 
All of a sudden Jungkook groans and he’s clutching his abdomen. “Ah fuck...”
You jump out of your seat to examine him closer. “What’s going on?”
Sweat forms on his upper lip, his body temperature rising steadily as if someone turned on the heater to its max. It’s an all too familiar feeling. He laughs at the horrid timing, but it exacerbates his pain.
“I’m going to need you to learn a new spell,” he says, panting so much you fear he’d pass out.
“Why?”
“Because I’m about to go into a rut,” he answers, glaring at you like you’ve made a grave mistake, “and I don’t have boxing to distract me anymore.”
“Do you want me to help—” 
“No,” You can’t help but feel offended, and undesired, but he adds, “I don’t want to take advantage of you. It’s not right.”
“Okay…” You rub your arm and like the keen observer he was, he tacks on another thing and you’re not sure if he’s trying to make you feel better or himself. 
“I don’t give consent because it’s out of my control. Our time together shouldn’t be influenced or pressured because of other circumstances.”
You almost laugh at the hilarity of that statement. “Isn’t that the whole basis of our relationship? Everything always comes with a condition. This is exactly why I left…”
Jungkook’s pained expression morphs into something worse—dismay. You go for damage control, wishing you could take those words back and shove them far into the depths of your mind where they couldn’t hurt anyone. 
“I’m sorry,” you say, full of regret, “I shouldn’t have said that. If you say no, I understand. It’s a no.”
“It’s fine. Not like you’re wrong. Can you go get Jin please?”
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Jungkook’s Point Of View
I want to tear these bandages off. And then my skin. It’s too damn hot and the timer on my sanity is dwindling. The snow outside looks inviting and is the only blanket I want covering me. 
A knock on the door garners my attention and [Y/N] rushes in, carrying something silver between her fingers.
“Sorry for the wait, I got it!” Fuck, she smells incredible. There’s nothing on Earth that can compare to her delicate, sweet aroma. It’s my Kryptonite, my guilty pleasure. Once she draws near, I pin her to the bed, ignoring the soreness of the muscles I was supposed to be recuperating. “Jungkook?”
I snuggle into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent like some deranged pervert as I squeeze her hip. The closest description is like a honey-sweet fruit, ripe for picking. But fruit bruises easily when they fall into the wrong hands. And now she’s in mine.
She whimpers softly, and it only further fuels my arousal. “It shouldn’t be this easy yet your hold over me is… pathetic.”
I hover over her face and bring a hand up to squeeze her cheeks, forcing her lips to pucker. Cute. 
“Do you know what filthy things I want to do to you? I’ve been fantasizing for years about this moment,” I say, unable to contain my smirk. Her chest heaves against mine and the panic that flashes across her face is adorable. I loosen my grip a bit so she can reply. 
“Tell me then,” she breathes and I chuckle at how wobbly her voice sounds. 
“I wanna fuck you like I hate you. It’s not going to be that tender bullshit, I’m going to be rough. I’m going to use you and all your holes until you’re screaming and I’m the only one that occupies your thoughts, so you can see the hell you put me through when you left. I’m going to bring you to heaven only to drag you back down to Earth and make you sin harder.”
I can smell much more than fear coming from her silence. Her fingers are clutching what I can now see is a silver body chain. She’s fast, but I’m faster as I pin her wrist down before she can put it on me. Her hand is hanging over the edge of the bed and I grip her wrist, upping the pressure and twisting slightly until she groans in pain, dropping the chain. It falls with a soft clink and I give her an amused grin.
“Was that mediocre thing supposed to quell my urges?” I taunt.
“Ideally, yes,” she remarks, unable to hide her bratty attitude. “Let me put it on you.”
“No.”
She gives me a look like I’m a bad child about to be put on time-out. Maybe I want to be bad. “Jungkook.”
“Come on… you said it yourself. You want to help,” I use my thigh to part her legs. “I’m in desperate need of it.”
She scoots her body upwards to get away, but like a parasite, I latch on and follow, pressing my entire body weight on her. “Jungkook, no. You said no. This isn’t you.”
“Oh, but what if it is?” She stops squirming and my eyes widen like I’ve gone insane, glad to have her attention. “What if this dark, twisted, horny part of me is who I am? What if I want to ravage you and my rut is simply pushing me to finally not hold back on loving you?”
“You… love me?”
Somehow that question pulls me from the depths of lust for a split second. “I never stopped.”
There’s a silent period where we stare at each other. Sometimes I think we’d hold the world record for how long one can zone out, lost in a world of our own. But my needs resurface, clouding my mind with crazed lust. I’m corrupted by something I can’t control and no matter how hard I resist, she’ll be in the crossfire.
She must have noticed her small window of opportunity because she pushed me off with her inhumane strength. I bounce on the mattress when I land on my back as she scrambles to grab the chain off the floor. She makes a break for the door, but I block it, tackling her to the ground so I can feel her soft body against mine again. 
We tussle and roll around like animals, the chain flying across the floor during the scuffle. It’s a wild game of Capture The Flag, each of us diving for the coveted item. She’s on her stomach, crawling towards it until I take her ankles and drag her backward, cackling like a madman. And like in horror movies, she screams and squirms, kicking me until I let go. 
She drags her body forward, snatches the chain, flips around, and clamps her thighs around my head. Her strong muscles could probably break a watermelon, but I welcome the constriction.
“Ooh, yes, make it hurt,” I choke out, wheezing out a short laugh. Revulsion in her scowl, she cages me in tighter, and I pull back so she slides towards me. Using my remaining strength, I lift her so she’s now perched atop my shoulders, her sweet pussy right where I want it. I dart my tongue out to lick a stripe, the barrier of her leggings so thin that she yelps from the contact.
I’m on my knees and I move forward, pressing her back against the wall. It supports her weight and I pin her hands down, so she can’t sneak the chain on me. She’s shouting at me, but I only hum in return, so she can feel the vibrations of my lips close to her lower ones. 
“Jungkook, let me go!”
“I can already taste you… such arrogance to think you can handle me.”
I look up through her thighs, earning a sharp inhale from her. “Trust me… I’ve been holding back.”
She chants foreign words under her breath and my ears soon discover a sharp ringing noise, making my brain feel like it’s being shredded by a cheese grater. I hold my head with both hands, toppling over and releasing her as we both fall to the floor. When the cacophony subsides, I see she’s standing above me with the lamp. She’s ruthless as she smashes it against my head, the glass shards scattering everywhere. 
I lay on my stomach, dazed, and she put the chain on me hastily. It glows as it erases all forms of rage and lust, and my mind clears while my soul aligns. That’s when the painful sensations of my injuries I had ignored earlier hit me in full force. 
With impeccable timing, the door to our room swings open, and in comes Jin and Namjoon. Jin has his arms up in a fighting pose, his hands encasing two pink orbs prepared for attack. Namjoon has his crossbow gun pointed at me until [Y/N] waves him off with a dismissive gesture.
“You’re a bit late. Put it down.”
The orbs flicker out and Namjoon lowers his weapon, being the first to speak. “What happened?”
“Things got… rough. I put the chain on him. He’s fine now.”
“Easy for you to say,” I mutter. “Can someone please get the first aid kit? I’m bleeding again…”
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Your Point of View
Jin’s making it a point to be hospitable. He dragged you around the lodge, indulging you in all the amenities the lodge offers. From paying for your food and drinks to complimentary snowboarding, it was almost like he was overcompensating. 
While he was gracefully swerving down the hill, you spent most of your time falling face-first into the snow, frustrated at the bulky clothes you had on. You called it quits and he finally yielded to your pleas.
Back at the lodge, you shed yourself of your multiple layers, feeling like an onion. At least now you can caramelize by the fireplace in the lobby while sipping on a piping-hot cup of cocoa. 
Jin makes his presence known, plopping himself onto the same futon where you sat with a refreshed “Ah, hot cocoa. Delicious!”
You roll your eyes when he holds his mug out, but you clink your cup against his anyway. “I hope you and Namjoon had your fun in the shower. That’s a nasty hickey.”
He coughs, adjusting his turtleneck to cover up said blemish. “Sorry. I didn’t know you would need me.”
“It’s fine,” you say, glancing around for any unwanted spectators. You whisper the next part. “I grabbed your spellbook and did it myself.”
He bears a proud smile, looking like he is about to deliver well-deserved praises when suddenly, his expression falls. Setting down his beverage, he seemed rather pale despite being near the fireplace. He looks up at the night sky and you follow his gaze. “Oh shit…”
You set down your drink too, paying no mind as it sloshes enough to spill over. “Jin… what’s wrong?”
“It’s a full moon…”
“Yeah. And?”
He shoots up like a rocket and sprints upstairs to his room. You follow at once, off-put by his erratic behavior. He’s found his spellbook on the bed where you left it, flipping through the pages so quickly, you thought they’d rip. Once he settles on the desired section, he shoves the book in your face. 
“Is this the spell you used?!”
You eye the page in its fancy script, seeing the same picture of a wolf howling under the moon. “Yes. It says Binding Chain at the top and I read it. It suppresses a male’s rut.”
“Did you see the fine print?”
“There’s a fine print?” you echo. Skimming the page, you squint at the very bottom to see an anecdote at the bottom marked with an asterisk. You read it out loud. “On the night of a full moon, the binding chain’s powers are reversed. Rather than suppressing a rut, the male’s urges will be amplified…”
The book shuts and you’re greeted by Jin’s stern look. It’s the same one he gave you that time you set his hair on fire by accident. “The closer it gets to midnight, the more unhinged Jungkook will be. This is why you should’ve asked me for help.”
“How was I supposed to know? He was in pain and you were bumping uglies with Namjoon!”
“Spells like this are tricky, especially for novices. We don’t even know if you did it right.”
“Gee, thanks for the bode of confidence.”
A concerned voice from the doorway calls out to you and Jin. “Whoa, whoa, what’s going on here?”
You both turn to see Namjoon in his winter gear, covered in snow like he was a dessert dusted with powdered sugar. Jin walks over and brushes some off his furry hat. “[Y/N] used the wrong spell for Jungkook. His rut is about to come back tenfold and it won’t be pretty.”
“It’s not my fault,” you argue. “If you and he weren’t fucking each other, this wouldn’t have happened!”
“Okay… this is horrible timing,” Namjoon says with a forced awkward laugh. Jin holds him by the shoulders.
“Honey… where’s Jungkook?”
“I… lost something important when we got here. Jungkook and I went out to look for it. I gave up, but he’s stubborn and is still out there.”
You look out the window and see the snowfall getting heavier, each flake larger and more frequent as it piles on the thick blanket that already covers the ground. Visibility was diminishing and you could barely see the outline of the moon in the sky. 
“I’m going to get him,” you say, determined. They look at you like you have three heads. “I’m the only one who can handle him on a night like this.”
“It’s dangerous. The snow is getting worse out there,” Namjoon warns.
“Yeah, and whose fault is it that he’s still out there? He may be immortal, but he has limits too.”
Namjoon recognizes your stubbornness; you share that with Jungkook. He pulls out his phone, hastily texts something, and sends it, which triggers a chime on your phone. 
“There’s a cabin out there that I use on my missions sometimes. You’ll find a cage in the basement that can hold Jungkook for the night. Food, water, clothes, sedatives, weapons—you name it.”
He offers you his crossbow gun, but you decline. “I can get through to him.”
“Are you sure?”
“No. But… It doesn’t feel right to hurt him. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Stay safe. We’ll come find you in the morning.”
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Winter is the superior season, some would say. Because with the cold, you can layer clothes nonstop until you’re warm. Newsflash: that’s a lie. You’re freezing your ass off despite your best efforts to combat the frost, but Mother Nature couldn’t resist challenging your limits.  
The weather has taken a turn for the worse as snow swirls around you, making it difficult to see or hear anything. You trudge through it, the flame in your palm being the only source of light and heat as harsh gusts of wind threaten to extinguish it. 
Your magic was technically infinite, considering your necklace was a conductor for it. The jewelry siphons the magic from your hybrid body and allows you to use it like a witch would. However, like with most things, if you overdo it, it drains your energy and weakens its potency. 
When you reach the forest, the wind howls through the trees as your breath comes out in heavy puffs. Each step you take sinks deeper than the previous one until you’re knee-deep in snow. The ground is uneven and your steps slow because even the slightest misstep could be your last. With no one around for miles, this was not the way you wanted to go out. 
You don’t know how much time has passed, but the flame flickers until darkness remains. 
“No… no… please…” You wrap your arms around yourself, the biting cold unforgiving. A rustle in the distance alerts your fight-or-flight and you scan your surroundings, seeing a dark silhouette who you can only assume is… “Jungkook?”
Whoever it was burst into a sudden sprint in the opposite direction. Your body has a mind of its own, chasing him down without hesitation. You reach a clearing where his broad back faces you, the moon casting a soft glow behind his figure. He turns around, revealing his ruby red eyes with streaks of gold, which sparkle like luster dust in water. 
His face is unreadable until you risk a step forward. 
“Don’t come closer!” he barks, startling you to retract back. The hurt in your eyes breaks him, but he couldn’t bear to be a burden for you to shoulder. “I feel like I’m going crazy. You shouldn’t be here.”
“It’s the full moon. The body chain is making things worse. I can—”
“No!” He bares his teeth and bends his knees as if preparing to pounce. “You need to leave. Now!”
Falling onto all fours, he lets out a strangled groan, cursing like there was no tomorrow. His bones snap, pop out of place, and lengthen to create a new foundation for his werewolf form. It was like all his organs were set ablaze, the searing pain shooting throughout his body. You deny his request and take another step. 
“Stay… away!” he orders, his voice roughed and strained.
His head hangs low, clawing the snow beneath him. Though shapeshifting was a great distraction, doing so during a rut could have unpredictable circumstances. It was far too dangerous; he knew better but was desperate for relief. 
“Run…” he breathes, lifting his head. Your legs tremble from his unwavering, lethal gaze. “Run!!!” His canines peek through when he growls at you once more and you are hit with the severity of the situation. Fear strikes through you like a javelin and combined with your rush of adrenaline, you escape the premises. 
Everything is a blur as you zig-zag through the snow-capped trees in the forest. You don’t stop running until your lungs burn to the point where you’re about to vomit. Despite how numb your fingers are, you check your phone, looking up the location of the cabin. It’s not too far away and if you can manage to lure Jungkook there, he’ll be safe for the night.
An eerie howl startles you and you trek forward, looking over your shoulder every so often. It’s not until you come across a line of forestry, where there’s a gap in the middle of two trees. Upon closer inspection, you squint at the darkness that sits between them, and two glowy orbs greet you. 
A low snarl sends chills up your spine as two black paws emerge into the moonlight before their true form follows. You’re face to face with the big black wolf, its eyes glowing with feral intensity. The body chain’s magic allowed for the accessory to enlarge, accommodating Jungkook’s new size. 
“Jungkook…”
He doesn’t respond, almost like that name was foreign to him. All he does is crouch, and you start to regret not having a weapon. With a growl, he lunges at you, powerful muscles rippling under his fur. You barely dodge in time, but his claws graze your arm, ripping through my coat and drawing blood. 
Damn. I’m getting sloppy. I need blood.
You clutch onto the wound, hissing at him as your eyes shift to fiery gold. “Stop! Jungkook, it’s me!”
He circles you like a shark, instilling more fear before he pounces again. His heavy weight forces your body to topple backward, the snow cushioning your fall, and soon stained a vivid crimson. Jungkook had bitten your shoulder this time, his fangs sinking deep. 
Not even your blood-curdling scream dissuades him from prying his jaw off. You feel the prick of tears behind your eye, but you push through it, using your remaining good arm to punch him. The wolf is hurled about twenty feet away and you force yourself up.
“Okay… it’s clear you’re more beast than man right now…” you say, panting as more blood trickles onto the snow. The wolf shakes its head and slowly rises, its predatory gaze stripping you of your fortitude. 
Just then a deep rumble beneath your feet alerts you to look up, where the heart of the mountain was. The signs are there: the snowpack drifting, ominous cracks in the ground, and a thunderous roar as snow cascades down the landform.
“Shit…” you say, running in the opposite direction. “Come on! Chase me!”
Thankfully you don’t have to ask twice. Jungkook’s hot on your trail as the snow is on his. The ground continues to shake, the avalanche's roar deafening, drowning out all other sounds. Both your lives are at stake and you run to the cabin up ahead, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
As you reach the door, you swipe the keycard Namjoon lent you, the faint click giving you a moment of reprieve. You throw the door open at the same time Jungkook tackles you from behind. You stumble forward, his weight crushing you as he slashes your back with his sharp claws. 
Now you’re pissed.
You flip onto your back, clutching his paws while his jaw snaps towards your face, spit flying everywhere. 
“God, Jungkook! Get a grip!” You grunt as you exert your muscles, throwing him into the living room area. A wooden table is smashed into bits and the TV screen has a crack down the middle, but you don’t care. You kick the door shut just as the avalanche slams into the ground outside, its force shaking the cabin walls. 
The noise is overwhelming, but it distracts the beast long enough for you to search for the basement. The cabin’s small space makes it easy as one narrow door sits in the corner, so you try your luck. There’s a set of steep, wooden stairs and you descend quickly, seeing dim recess ceiling lights that cast a soft yellow glow. 
Unlike the cabin, the basement was underground and wide, with ample space for the cage Namjoon had promised. It’s in the furthest left corner with thick chains attached to the floor and ceiling. A workbench greets you once you reach the last step, filled with various weapons and tranquilizers you were all too familiar with.
Due to his hybrid nature, your best bet is to grab the syringe with vervain and wolfsbane. Reassurance is but a fleeting moment when Jungkook descends the stairs too, determined to finish you off. 
He bites your leg this time, and you jam the syringe into his neck simultaneously. Once the wolf loses consciousness, you stumble backward and hit your head on the edge of the workbench, drifting into darkness.
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Jungkook’s Point of View
Something wet touches my fingers and it stirs me awake. My muscles are screaming, feeling like I have been hit by a semi-truck. I open my eyes, forcing myself to sit up and look at my hands. 
“Oh my god…”
Red is all I see. I’m covered in it. My lips taste it. But I don’t remember how it got there and that scares me. However, I look over to see [Y/N]’s unconscious body next to me. The blood is hers, pooling from her head and her body looks like a corpse from a crime scene. I’m terrified now, crawling over to her while my body shakes. 
“No… please.” 
I saw the gruesome claw marks on her arm, the nasty bites on her shoulder and leg, and her head wound that was still bleeding. I lift her head first, then her back, seeing the scratches there too. I don’t know what to do other than hold her close, listening for signs of life. It’s faint, but she’s breathing. 
“Who did this to you?” I breathe, but the question is stupid. I’m covered in evidence of my crimes, a sin with no solution. Her face looks sickly, so I bite my wrist and put it against her lips, forcing her to drink my blood for sustenance. 
I choke out a sob when I don’t see a difference.
“I’m so sorry…” I kiss the top of her head, praying to anyone who hears it, to bring her back to me. 
“Jungkook…”
I thought I was hearing things until she calls for me again. It’s a fucking miracle. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean to…”
“Shh… haven’t you heard of kissing a person’s boos-boos?” Her lips curl into a faint smile and I’m thrown for a loop. How can she speak so lightly about the horrors I’ve committed?
“You must have a concussion. I need to patch you up.”
“No. Kiss my wounds, silly. Just like you did to my head.”
I was too distraught to realize, but the blood on the rug we were on had vanished. Her hair no longer smells of iron either and realization dawns on me.
“Okay. Let me help you get out of your clothes first.”
It’s not a smooth process, but she handles it like a champ as I maneuver her coat, shirt, and tank top off. I pause every so often when she winces, making sure she’s comfortable before I move on. Her boots come off next and then her leggings, leaving her only in her undergarments. 
Lying her flat on her back, I get on top and kiss her shoulder area first. It’s a magical sight watching the wound seal itself as new skin regenerates while the blood evaporates. She coos at the relief, giving me a warm smile. 
“That feels nice.”
I head for her arm next, giving it several smooches to cover the claw marks. Each one repairs itself the same way. I lean back on my knees, holding her leg up until it reaches my lips and I leave another kiss there. Her eyes shimmer in excitement as do mine when the bite heals. 
“Can you turn around for me?” I ask. She gets on all fours, exposing her back to me. It was the nastiest injury yet, the laceration deep and red. I don’t care and kiss every inch of her skin until it goes away, noticing how she shivers each time. 
Once she’s fully healed, I see a cage in the corner and eye the chains inside. I get up and head there, frantically trying to get the cuffs on. She follows me and I curse at my shaky hands for being too slow. 
“What are you doing now?” she asks as if it’s not obvious.
“Damn it all, why can’t I get this on?!” She places her hands on mine, steadying them until they stop trembling. “[Y/N], please. I need to be chained up. It’s dangerous for you to be here, I almost killed you!”
“But you didn’t. I’m fine. I knew the risks.”
“Why didn’t you beat me senseless? I deserved it.”
She shakes her head, still able to give me a soft smile as if I didn’t try to maul her to death however long ago. “Because your rut… it’s not easy to deal with. And I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting you. Besides, I messed up on the spell.”
She points to the body chain on me. “On a full moon, it amplifies your rut. Not suppress it.”
I drop the cuffs and grab the body chain instead, ready to yank it off when she snatches my wrists. 
“Don’t,” she orders. “I want it on.”
My eyes widen. “This thing almost got you killed.”
“It’s hot on you.”
“Are you okay? Is your head fully healed? Why are you—”
She pecks me on the lips to shut me up. It’s cute, sweet, and simple. Sometimes I wish we were simple. 
“Jungkook… ever since I saw you at the wedding, I haven’t been able to heal properly,” she confesses. 
My hands drop to my sides. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t sure. But whenever I got a cut, it healed but not as fast as it usually did. And I thought about when I got hurt at the wedding, how you kissed my hand, and how fast it healed then. This has never happened to me before, but I realized… I can’t be without you.”
She caresses the side of my face and I shiver at her gentle touch, placing a chaste kiss on her palm. “No… you were right to leave. I’m dangerous.”
A finger comes up to my lips. “Shh… our fates are entwined whether you like it or not, you stupid bastard,” I can’t help but chuckle and she giggles. It lights up my world. “When you said you never stopped loving me back at the lodge… were you serious?”
“As a heart attack,” Her expression is teetering between fondness and confusion. “Sorry, that’s not romantic, huh?”
“It is to me. I love you too.”
Her confession triggers something in me. It's a carnal, animalistic need and I realize my rut is surging back with renewed intensity. 
“My love, I need you to make a choice,” I say with labored breathing. Sweat coats my hair, matting it to my forehead. My body feels like I’m being incinerated inside out. “I want you permanently. Not temporarily. Body and soul. Your devotion. If you stay…”
“I’ll stay. I promise,” she says without a trace of hesitation. But I can’t help but be reminded of the past.
“How do I know you won’t leave again?”
She ponders her answer but then says, “Because when I’m not focused on my future, I’m focused on ours.” 
It brings me immense joy, but my lust drowns it out. 
“Okay. We’re going to need a safe word. Or you need to promise you’ll defend yourself against me by any means if it becomes too much.”
“Jungkook—”
“I mean it. Because everything I said at the lodge was true. Everything.”
She wets her lips at the memory, which tempts me with depravity. “Are you okay if I’m still infertile?”
“I never minded it. Because I’m going to fuck you like I’m gonna breed you anyway.” 
She nods. “... Red.”
“Red,” I repeat and then I’m all over her.
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Your Point of View
Jungkook lunges at you, his movements a blur of desperate need. You’re pressed against the iron bars of the cage as he kisses you like he’ll devour you whole. His hands roam your body to tear off your bra and panties, and you gasp, but he swallows it by kissing you deeper.
His hands are greedy, kneading your breasts in circular motions. He twists one of your nipples with his forefinger and thumb, the sensation borderlining pain and pleasure, but you succumb to it. Especially when he stops kissing you to lower himself, sucking on your other nipple. He doesn’t hold back and tugs on it between his teeth, earning a mewl from you. 
When he pulls back, he releases it with an audible pop before giving the other one the same treatment. Your hands run through his hair, gripping hard enough to make him moan with hunger. He pushes your breasts together, so he’s able to suck both nipples simultaneously. The sight enraptures you, and you swear he’s the most attractive man alive. 
“I can’t wait, I need you now. I need you many… many times tonight,” he says after he’s left several purple constellations in his wake. You’re turned around, holding onto the bars for support as his bicep slithers around your neck. His lips find purchase on the shell of your ear. “God, I want to destroy you.”
He slips his thick cock in between your thighs, feeling the copious amount of slickness between your folds. He thrusts back and forth and you rock your hips in tandem, appreciating his restraint. Each time his tip brushes against your clit, you moan to the ceiling while he groans against your neck. 
You’re sensitive, on the brink of an orgasm, but Jungkook comes first. White spurts of cum spill out from his tip, and he shudders when you use your hand to coax out more. 
“Fuck, I can’t hold on anymore. I’d do more to prep you, but I can’t wait. I’m sorry.” 
Despite coming already, Jungkook was still fully erect. You swore he might’ve even gained an inch. He was deliciously massive, blessed in both girth and length. 
“It’s okay. I can take it,” you assure. 
“If it’s too much?”
“I say red.”
Jungkook holds onto your hips and pulls you back, your body now parallel to the floor at a ninety-degree angle. You arch your back and stick your ass out for him, even going far as to shake your peach to tantalize him. Without needing to guide it, he slams his dick into you with such violence that it leaves you winded. 
He wastes no time thrusting, his pace desperate, rushed, and greedy to satisfy an insatiable hunger. You’re holding onto the bars for dear life as he fucks you like it’s his last day on Earth. There’s a burn that comes with not having time to adjust to his inhumane size, but you endure. Lust covers a world of hurt and the stretch ignites a fervor. 
The basement is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin and unabashed moaning. Jungkook grips your hips so tight, they bruise. He smacks your ass multiple times, each sting resulting in a tighter clench from your soaking pussy, which drives him wild.  You love how he stretches you out, how he’s using you like a dumb fucktoy for his cravings. You want to please him because it pleases you. 
Without warning, he pistons into you faster, and you can barely see straight. His last thrust is sharp and calculated, a rough grunt escaping him as he empties himself into you. Your legs are trembling when he pulls out, admiring how his cum oozes out of you. 
Sliding down to the ground, you rest your back against the cage and close your eyes to catch a break. However, Jungkook smacks your cheeks a couple of times to get your attention. He’s erect again, no surprise. You swear with each orgasm, he’s getting bigger. 
“Are you okay?” he asks. 
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
He places a hand on your head, guiding your lips to his throbbing cock. It’s coated in shared body fluids, but you open your mouth like an automated response until he slides himself in. You gag when he hits the back of your throat and he pulls out, but not all the way. You have to mentally prepare yourself for what comes next as he grabs ahold of both sides of your head, fucking your face as he pleases. 
You’re choking and saliva dribbles down to your breasts, your eyes sting with tears, but he keeps going and you take the abuse. He doesn’t hold your head lovingly. Rather, his hand cages you in, guiding you however he sees fit. Your jaw is sore, but that’s a small price to pay when you have the most gorgeous man throwing his head back in bliss because of you. 
Once his hips stutter and he comes again, you swallow the slightly bitter fluid and he releases you.
“Get up.”
You’re a bit dizzy, so he helps you to your feet. You see him squat and bring your legs atop his shoulders. In one swift motion, he stands with you perched atop and you squeal, holding his head in fear of falling. 
“Jungkook!”
“Hold onto the cage.”
You don’t question him and do just that, thinking about how this was the same way you took down your opponent back at the farm. However, the only danger here was Jungkook having you right where he wanted you.
He sticks his tongue out and begins lapping up your juices from earlier. You’re unable to process being suspended in the air while getting eaten out at the same time. It’s thrilling, and you almost sob when he invades your walls and tongue-fucks you. The slurping noises that leave him are obscene. It’s as if you were his last meal, which only coaxes out more arousal. It’s too much when your orgasm nears, but he grabs your ass tighter and everything snaps.
You’re screaming his name, rolling your eyes in the back of your head. Your ears ring, your toes curl, and you shut your eyes to ride the waves of bliss. You don’t even realize when you’re back on the ground because it feels like you’re not even on the same planet anymore. 
And suddenly you’re in the air again. Jungkook grabs the underside of your thighs and lifts you, your legs perched around his waist and your hands around his neck. He uses one hand to guide his tip to your entrance, and your breath hitches. 
“We’re not done yet.”
“I never want you to be. Use me.”
He sinks you onto his cock, bouncing you like a rag doll. You hold each other close, staring intensely into each other’s eyes. Everything burns inside Jungkook’s body. His thighs, his arms, his heart—but that pain fuels him to fuck you harder. You kiss him first this time, inserting your tongue and sliding it against his. It’s sloppy but erotic, and he only ups his speed. 
He doesn’t last long and comes again, but you wait until he decides to put you down. You’re on your back now and he places a sweet kiss on your forehead.
“God, I wanna fill you up again. Breed you until you’re exhausted.”
He has hold of your ankles, bringing them up high until your knees hug your chest as he inserts himself again. You can see his fat cock going in and out of you, his cock creamy and white from your slick. Your tummy bulges with each thrust, but the nightmarish visual is, somehow, incredibly sexy. He makes you feel full, yet you can’t seem to get enough. 
“Fuck, how are you still going?” you whimper. He chuckles like he’s flattered, lowering your legs so he can lay flat on top, chest to chest. You’re both sweaty and reek of sex, but it feels right. 
“Because you’re my soulmate. I’m going to ravish you.” 
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Hours pass. He’s more beast than man at this point, almost unrecognizable. This wasn’t making love. He was determined to fuck your brains out. 
Every position imaginable, no part of your body went unexplored. If you were a country, he was a sergeant invading every part of you. You’re bruised and full of bloody scratches, but so was he. 
Whenever you were nearing the possibility of passing out, he found a way to give you a break. Whether by humping your thighs again or using your hands, he didn’t care. You’re soaked in his cum, a sticky, filthy mess that he deemed beautiful. He took pride in his work like you were his canvas for a Jackson Pollock painting. 
His boundless energy inspired him to get creative, making use of the cage’s chains. He had you dangle from the ceiling as he fucked you from the front. From the back. In your ass. 
If he thought you were tight before, your ass was a whole other story. You’d never taken something so big. It took a while for you to relax and though lube was ideal, the copious amounts of cum he filled you with earlier worked fine. More than fine. Something about him shoving his two fingers in you to draw out his cum to finger your asshole felt lecherous. You swore you were going to tear in half, but when his tip brushed sweet spots you didn’t know existed, you came harder than the previous times.  
Now you are on all fours, his hand in your hair, locking you in the humiliating position. He penetrates deep inside, loving the way your ass jiggles every time your bodies meet. You’ve been reduced to a moaning mess, unable to think about anything but his cock. 
You’re saying “Yes, yes, yes!” but the words are slurred, reduced to pure nonsense, thanks to his brutal movements. His thrusts are merciless, repeatedly hitting you in that sweet spot with no signs of slowing down unless he changes positions. 
“Fuck, this is it,” he grunts. He carefully pulls out, lies on his side, and brings you close so you’re on your side too. Lifting your leg, he slides into you again and resumes penetration. This time when he comes, you can see your belly expand from how much he fills you up. His monstrous cock swells and you whine from the discomfort, feeling like you’re about to pop. 
“It hurts,” you cry. Jungkook cuddles you as his knot takes form, ensuring no cum spills out. 
“I know, love. It’ll be okay.” He litters your neck with kisses to distract you from the pain until you’re used to his new size. You’ve never felt so full and can’t believe you’re stuck like this for who knows how long. It’s a phony moment of reprieve, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Once the pain subsides, you lay there as he hugs you, feeling his chest on your back. He holds your hand, intertwining his fingers in yours. You take this chance to look at his tattoos, noticing one stand out in particular. 
“What’s this?” you ask.
You’re pointing to a tattoo of a lake with mountains that have a full moon situated between them on his forearm.
“Oh, that? It’s where I first fell for Namjoon when he sparred with me.” His playful lilt makes you pout.
“Hey…” 
Jungkook kisses your shoulder and grins. “That’s where I first fell for you, silly. And where I fell for you again the night of the wedding. I contemplated getting rid of it, but… I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
“Aw…” A question pops into your mind that you’ve been dying to ask. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Why did you have vervain on you that day? Why carry the burden of knowing?”
He hums like he was expecting that question. “Because I know you too well and maybe… I wanted to keep that pain because it was my last link to you. I couldn’t give that up.” He turns your face so you’ll look up at him. “I love you, [Y/N].”
Saying those three words back again didn’t feel like enough. He was your one and you wanted to spend eternity with him.
“Mark me. Make me yours for good.”
His doe eyes form an OJO face, which earns a laugh from you. Despite all that’s happened, this manages to surprise him. 
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, and you allow him to mark you as his. 
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The next morning you and Jungkook are cleaned up, cuddling by the fireplace in the living room area. 
“Why is there a saxophone over there?” you ask, pointing to the random instrument near the door.
“You know what… I’m not sure.” Jungkook gets up, walks over to it, and picks it up. The face he makes while examining it is endearing, but you’re curious when he reaches his hand in the bell of the instrument. “I feel something.”
He pulls out something small, but you recognize the diamond instantly. “Is that a wedding ring?”
His face morphs into panic. “It’s not for you,” he blurts. You giggle and approach him, swiping the ring. 
“I know that, silly. You wouldn’t propose to me here.”
He visibly relaxes, rubbing the back of his nape, cheeks flushed. “It’s Namjoon’s.”
“Oh! Is this what he asked you to help him find? Is he going to propose to Jin? How sweet!”
A strange hissing noise distracts you two, and you turn your attention to the window. The snow from the avalanche is melting rapidly and soon, the door opens, revealing the couple you were just talking about.
“We’re here!” Jin shouts with his arms out in a ta-da position. 
“Again… you’re a little late,” you tease. Namjoon strides in, taking a look at the damage you two inflicted in the small space. 
“Geez… what did you two do?”
“What didn’t we do?” Jungkook says, giving you a wink. You can only laugh as you playfully hit his shoulder. 
The clothes the cabin had were a size too big on you, so they drooped on your small frame. Namjoon and Jin are quick to notice the bite mark on your exposed shoulder and how it solidified into something akin to a tattoo.
“Oh… Oh,” Jin says, realization hitting him as his ears turn red. “Congratulations!”
“Well, we should congratulate you too,” Jungkook says, giving Namjoon a pointed look. The man is confused at first, but then nods once he feels you slip the metal item into his palm. He’s ecstatic and immediately grabs the saxophone. You and Jungkook grin while his rather awkward proposal plays out, with Jin mostly unaffected and choosing to criticize his partner’s clothing choices instead.
“Hey! I practiced hard for you and you only talk about my clothes?!” Namjoon says, but the smile he wears lets you know he’s not hurt. Jin laughs and hugs him.
“I’m touched!”
Namjoon finally gets down on one knee and pops the question. “Will you marry me then?”
Now Jin’s entire face is flushed. “Oh my god… of course, my gentle giant.”
Jungkook and you give each other a knowing look, wondering when your turn will come next. He holds your hand and you lay your head on his shoulder. 
“That’ll be us someday,” he says.
“I know. But I’m not in a rush. I’m already yours.”
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General A/N: Hello!!! Thank you for reading until the end. I appreciate reblogs and asks if you wanna share your thoughts. 💘
Moonstruck Readers A/N: So for those who are curious, I was going to include NamJin’s wedding where Taehyung shows up and he sees OC and JK together. And that could lead to a whole other spiral of feelings. ;) But I’m not promising to write it. This is their happy ending and OC and JK do get married eventually. 
Or if you’re like my friend who keeps saying TaeKook should both be with OC, well, that’s in another universe I guess. LOL!
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me-and-your-husband · 2 years
Text
yours truly and forever || j. miller
summary: you find ellie and joel in need of help, desperately. you take care of the two, when affection for joel creeps up on you and you can’t shake it. he can’t stay, but maybe, if you don’t think too hard about it, that won’t matter. 
an extension from the end of episode six, “kin”. 
warnings: female reader, kinda reference to the events of the game, so potential spoilers for the season i guess?, angst, smut, smut with feels, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink (?), half proofread, not as feral as what i usually write? kinda soft sex. let me know if i missed anything.
word count: 5.6k (i think this is officially my longest fic???)
A/N: episode six destroyed me on a different level. didn’t stop my thirst tho. also, i am NOT a medical professional so the terminology and stuff is probably not correct. tried my best.
here’s my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my work!
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“I think we’re safe.” Joel’s weak body slumped off the horse, falling into the snow. “Joel, no, no, no! Shit,” Ellie cursed as she dismounted the horse and scrambled to him. She called his name to no avail, using his hands to cover the festering wound on his abdomen. “Joel, open your eyes. Open your eyes. Joel, you gotta get up,” she pleaded. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I can’t fucking do this without you. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, or what the fuck I’m gonna do. Joel! Please. Joel, please.”
She sat fisting his collar, pleading for him to open his eyes, when she heard the sound of hooves shuffling through the snow. She first thought Shimmer had run off. Whipping around, the horse was right where she left it. The panic that was already coursing through her became more potent. She reached for her gun, ducking in the snow next to Joel. She could almost taste her fear on her tongue as a figure on a black horse trotted over to Shimmer. Reaching out a hand to stroke Shimmer’s muzzle, the figure said, “Hey, girl. Where’d you come from?” It was a woman’s voice. Ellie clutched her gun, just the way Joel had taught her. The woman dismounted her horse, boots crunching in the snow as she walked around Shimmer. When her gaze trailed down to the young girl with a gun pointing at her, she brought her hands up slowly, non-threateningly. 
“Stay back!” Ellie shouted. She couldn’t see much of the woman, a bandana covering her neck, reaching under her eyes. She had a hat on, one of the ones Maria had worn in Jackson. She was well bundled for the weather, Ellie noted. Must live around here. 
“I’m not here to hurt you. Just saw a stray horse. Thought someone might need help, is all,” you said, hands still in the air. “And it looks like I was right.”
Ellie glanced towards Joel. “How do I know you’re not gonna kill us? Fucking eat us, or something?” She spat. 
You laughed, “I’m not going to eat you. That’s what my cattle and crops are for.” You told her your name. “I’ve got a house just a few miles up. I was doing a perimeter check before I found you, actually. It’s secure. I can help your dad there.”
Ellie didn’t bother correcting you. Instead, she contemplated taking you up on your offer. Well, if she didn’t go with you, Joel was dead. If Joel died, she might as well be dead too. “Fine.”
“Will you lower your gun so I can help him?”
She put her gun down, watching as you calmly moved towards Joel, hiking him up over your shoulder and situating him on top of your horse. You sat behind him, his weight fully leaning against you, as Ellie mounted her horse. “This way,” you said, pressing your calf into your horse’s ribcage to get her to go. Ellie followed close behind as you led her to your home. 
“Why’re you helping us?” Ellie asked when you were about halfway there.
You took a few seconds to answer. “There was a time when I needed someone to help me, but nobody would. This way, come on.”
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You put the passcode into the keypad, opening the gate, gesturing for Ellie and Shimmer to go in first. You followed her, instructing her towards the large white house that sat in the middle of the property. When you got to the porch, you dismounted the horse and placed the man back over your shoulder, climbing up the steps. Ellie dismounted too, looking for some place to tie the lead. 
“Don’t worry about that. Fence goes all around the place. Come help me open this door,” you said, occupied with trying not to let him fall from your shoulders. His frame was much bigger than yours, making it difficult to balance. Ellie twisted the nob and pushed the door open. You found your couch immediately, laying him down as gently as you could, shoving a pillow under his head. “Stay here with him. I’m gonna go grab my kit.”
She waited there with Joel until you returned, squeezing his hand, praying for him to wake up. Praying that they were safe here. 
When you returned, you were carrying a giant leather bag. She had expected a simple first aid kit. At her puzzled expression, you said, “Normally, I’m doing surgery on the horses or cows, not men.” She nodded in understanding.
As you set up with bedpans, scalpels, scissors, gauze, anything you might need, Ellie took a moment to look around. Hung on your walls were portraits of anything and everything. She’d always loved art, never having the time to really explore it herself. This place didn’t look like it was home to someone who was gonna slaughter them. “I’m Ellie,” she said, making you turn from your stool by the couch. “That’s Joel.”
You gave a reassuring smile. “Nice to meet you, Ellie.” Now, you pulled down the fabric from your mouth and threw your hat down on the floor, shucking your jacket off too, hoping it would make you less intimidating to the young girl. “Might wanna get comfortable. This’ll take awhile. 
Ellie made herself a home on the loveseat adjacent to the couch Joel was on, taking her jacket off and laying it next to her backpack. “How did this even happen?” you asked as you sanitized your tools.
“He got stabbed,” she said, looking down at her hands. “He didn’t even notice at first. He…” she trailed off. You gave her a look of understanding.
You cleaned the area and got to work. You were happy that he was unconscious. All you had was horse tranquillizer, and you were almost positive that it would kill him. Joel twitched and squirmed a little, but you were calm as you worked.
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Ellie’s eyelids were drooping and her head was falling when she heard you say, “All done,” as you wiped your bloody hands on a rag. She got up to get a look at Joel. His bloodied shirt and jacket were off, showing the wound on his abdomen, all stitched up. “See that area around the wound?” You said, fingers gently grazing over the skin. “It’s pink. Means there’s probably an infection. I’ll see what I have, but I don’t think I have enough antibiotics,” you said as you cleaned the blood from your tools. You saw a look of disappointment in her eyes. 
“But,” you started, “there’s an old pharmacy a mile or two from here. I can go tomorrow. See what they have.” She nodded, a hopeful look in her eyes. “Come on, help me get him upstairs.”
The two of you took him to one of the guest bedrooms, laying him down on the bed. You slid his thick jacket back on, but left it unzipped so you could easily redress his wound. “I can show you to the other guest room. Mind, I don’t usually have visitors, so it’s-”
“No,” Ellie cut you off. She flushed. “Thanks, but I’m staying with him.” You nodded. She didn’t want him to wake up alone. 
“Alright, then. There are blankets in the closet over there,” you pointed. “My room is across the hall, at the end. If he wakes up or something is wrong, come get me. I’m leaving for the pharmacy at dawn, so help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You can shower if you want, too. If he wakes when I’m gone tomorrow, don’t leave. I’ll need to give him those antibiotics as soon as I get back.” She nodded. You began to walk out of the room, but she stopped you by calling your name. You turned.
“Earlier, you said that there was a time when you needed help, and nobody would give it to you…?”
You sighed. “A while back, about ten years ago, before I settled here, I was travelling with some people and my little brother. He ended up getting shot. His leg. I couldn’t stop the bleeding and…they just left us there. Left him there to die,” you swallowed, looking down at your feet. She looked at you, offering a sad smile. “Night, Ellie. Get some sleep.”
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You returned around noon the next day with the antibiotics for Joel. Announcing yourself when you walked in, Ellie came stumbling down the stairs. You took in her wet hair and changed clothes. There was hope in her eyes, but also urgency. “He woke up! Just for a little while. He was pretty out of it, but he asked where we were,” she said.
“And what’d you tell him?” You said as you took your outerwear off and grabbed your bag with the antibiotics. 
“I told him we were safe. He wasn’t awake long enough to give him the full story, but now he’s all sweaty, and mumbling and shit and-”
“Shit,” you cursed, rushing up the stairs past the girl.
“Wait, what is it?” she called after you.
“Sounds like he’s got a fever. Could have delirium, too,” you said as you entered the room Joel was in. He was clammy, sweating, chest heaving, body radiating an ungodly heat, mumbling incoherencies. You moved his jacket to the side. “Looks like the infection is spreading,” you mumbled. Grabbing the syringe and bottle from your bag, you filled the syringe, sticking it into the pink flesh of Joel’s stomach. 
“He’ll need another dose in a few hours. It probably won’t kick in until the second or third dose,” you said, wiping the sweat from his head and neck with a rag. You turned to Ellie, who’s eyes were fixed on Joel, yet distant. “Hey, did you eat yet?” She shook her head. “Let’s get you something to eat, then,” you said as you led her to the kitchen.
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Four days passed before Joel woke up. Four days spent mostly at his bedside, reading some book in between administering his doses. Making sure Ellie was fed. On the second day, Joel woke briefly again, panicking. However, Ellie was able to calm him down, reassuring him that they were safe. On the third day, you got through to Ellie a bit more.
“So, what brought you two this far out?” you asked innocently, closing your book and resting it on your lap. She seemed to freeze.
“We, uh…we were looking for Joel’s brother. We ended up near the university and got ambushed,” she said. She was lying. That was fine. You couldn’t really blame her. You hummed in response. 
It was silent for a few minutes before she spoke again, “He’s not my dad, you know.”
You offered her a soft smile. “Okay.” You went back to reading your book.
On the fourth day, when Joel woke up, you were in the kitchen doing the dishes left from your lunch with Ellie. A few hours ago you had re-dressed his wound and given him another round of antibiotics. The angry pink of his skin was subsiding and he was no longer feverish, resting peacefully on the bed. You hummed to yourself as you scrubbed the plates in the soapy water. 
Hearing two voices from upstairs, you dried your hands on a dish rag and made your way upstairs. The deep, gruff voice halted as your footsteps sounded out against the hallway floor.
“It’s safe, I promise. I trust her.” Ellie’s voice, pleading. A grunt.
You turned the corner with a polite smile, resting against the doorframe. You took the man in, greying hair dishevelled, sat up, staring daggers at you. 
“Good to see you awake,” you said, telling him your name. 
“How long was I out for?” he asked, his voice a gruff southern accent, but still laced with distrust. He was on edge.
“Five days.”
He looked at Ellie, who nodded. He groaned, eyes training back to you. “Where’s my stuff?” 
“Ellie has it all in the other room. Your horse is in my stable.”
“Then we’ll be on our way,” he said, attempting to get himself up, a groan of pain ripping through his chest as you walked forward, pushing him back down by the chest.
“Hold on, cowboy. You were stabbed. You have an infection. You’re in no shape to go back out there. Besides, there’s a storm rolling in soon.” You reached to the nightstand, grabbing the bottle of antibiotics and the syringe. 
He looked at Ellie. “She’s telling the truth. She found us when you fell off the horse. She brought us back here. Stitched you up and shit. She even went out to get you those antibiotics. She’s the reason the both of us aren’t dead. She’s been feeding me and everything,” Ellie said, then quieter, “I trust her.”
Joel looked you up and down. You held up the syringe, asking silent permission to give him another dose. “Fine,” he grunted.
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It took a few weeks for Joel’s infection to heal and for the winter blizzard to pass. After about a week of bedrest, as prescribed by you, Joel was walking around with Ellie, going to the dining room for meals rather than you bringing them to the bed, and even helping you with small tasks. The truth is, Joel felt indebted to you for saving his life. For taking care of Ellie. For going so far out of your way to bring them safety. After a while, he was able to trust you. 
But there was more. As he helped you put away the dishes, your fingers would brush as he passed you a plate, the air between you two going still. You’d be silent for a few moments, continuing your task, before picking conversation back up as though nothing happened. You’d be out in the stable together, brushing the horses. One of them would whinny and you’d genty laugh. He found your laugh infectious, finding a smile spreading across his face and a chuckle falling from his lips. When you caught his eye, he’d flush, looking back at Shimmer. She’d nudge him with her muzzle, as if to prompt him to say something more to you. He never would. Or maybe it was the time you were eating dinner with him and Ellie, pouring yourself and Joel wine. You had reached over to give him his glass, knocking yours onto yourself in the process. You had cursed, lifting your shirt over your head, white undershirt untouched by the stain. You didn’t miss the way Joel looked away, warmth rising up his neck. Ellie didn’t miss it either, as she held in a laugh and nudged him suggestively, lifting her eyebrows. You didn’t say anything. 
Between the lingering touches, the fleeting glances, and the burning moments, you knew that there was something unspoken that hung thick in the air between you and Joel.
After three months, Joel was fully healed. The storm lasted about a month, the last winds finally subsiding. Ellie had slept in. It was just you and Joel having coffee. You leaned against the counter. He sat at the table, facing you. You were making light and easy conversation, as it usually was between you two.
He cleared his throat and looked into the liquid in his mug. “We’ll be outta your hair in about a week, if that’s okay. Don’t wanna overstay our welcome,” he said, avoiding eye contact. You began to protest, but he cut you off, “You’ve already done so much for us,” his voice was like honey, thick and smooth. There was some kind of resistance mixed in with it. “Don’t worry about us, darlin’.” The name rolled easily off his tongue. It was a recent development, always something endearing. You figured it was just his way of showing he trusted you.
You huffed. There was no arguing with him when his mind was set on something. “Alright, then. Take any supplies you need. We’ll load up your horse the night before you leave,” you said, pouring the rest of your coffee down the drain and leaving the kitchen. Joel caught the hint of…something, in your voice. Sadness? Anger? Loneliness? He recalled a conversation he heard you having with Ellie about two weeks back.
“Doesn’t it get lonely out here? All by yourself all the time?”
A brief silence. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”
Joel thought he was doing what was best by ignoring the searing touches and stolen glances, ignoring the feelings in the pit of his stomach. He thought that growing attached to you would only hurt the both of you. He knew he was right, but he began to wonder if you might be worth the pain.
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That night, after you had bid Joel goodnight and Ellie was already asleep, you sat on your bed, in your thoughts, when soft knocking came from your door. “Come in,” you called out. The door opened and you looked up to see Joel. There was something behind his eyes that wasn’t there before. Guilt?
He approached you slowly, “May I?” You nodded. He took a seat next to you at the edge of your bed. 
How was he supposed to start?
“I, uh,” he sighed. “I’m not very good at this. And I know we aren’t leavin’ just yet. But I wanted to, uh, thank you. For helpin’ me. Us. We’d both be dead if it weren’t for you. And for your hospitality.” He looked at his hands resting on his lap. “You’re a real good person for that.”
You just shrugged and offered him a tight-lipped smile. Silence hung thick in the air between you two.
He cleared his throat, getting up from the bed. “Well, I guess I’ll get-”
“Why won’t you stay?” Your eyes met his, brows furrowed, something anxious brewing behind them. 
“I’ve gotta get the girl to her people,” was the only thing he could offer. He felt at a loss. You just nodded, standing in front of him. 
“Am I ever gonna see you again?” It was more of a plea than a question. 
Joel swallowed. “I don’t know.”
Your gaze drifted down to the floor. “What happens if you get hurt again, and there’s nobody like me there to help you?”
In an unexpected move, both by you and him, he grabbed your face with his hands. “I’ll be just fine, darlin’.” Your hands slid atop his.
“You don’t know that.”
He began to lean in. “I don’t know,” he said, his breath warm across your lips. “All I know is that now I’ve got somethin’ to come back for, someone I-”
“Don’t tell me you want me,” you cut him off. “Don’t tell me you want me now, when you’re about to leave.” He closed his eyes. Your hands fell from his. You moved out of his hold. “I can’t do this.”
The loss of his hands on your skin felt sore, wrong, but you knew that if you let him touch you, he’d hook you in, and it would hurt all the more to say goodbye in one week’s time. 
“Please,” you whispered, eyes closed, a single tear streaming down your cheek. You could feel the warmth of his body leave, hear him close the door gently behind him.
You didn’t rest much that night. 
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Every day for a week, you rose early, making breakfast for Ellie and settling back in your room to sit with yourself. Peering out of the window every day, you couldn’t help but stare out at the snowy planes of Colorado, taking in the austere, frozen environment you’d settled in. The desolate feel of the earth around you only made you realize how lonely you had been before Joel and Ellie had showed up, longing for something, anything, but always left unfulfilled. In Ellie’s bright smile and Joel’s unspoken touches, you thought that you might’ve landed a few companions who could keep your soul warm in the winter. It felt like you had lost something when you realized that wasn’t the case. 
When you ventured throughout the house to shower, cook, or do household work, you found yourself tiptoeing, almost like you didn’t want to get caught. You savoured your conversations with Ellie, but you kept your words to Joel down to necessity. Short responses to his questions, shorter replies to yours. Never touching, in fear that the friction, like electricity, would spark something that neither of you could stop. Holding your breath when he was close to you. Avoiding eye contact. Never giving more than you had to. You both thought it would be easier to part this way, the fire growing in your insides unsatiated. 
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The night before he was set to leave, you found Joel in the kitchen, rough fingers silently brushing over a map laid out on the table. 
He jumped at the sound of your voice, “I’m gonna go get your horse set with the things you’ll need.” He turned to you.
“I’ll come give you a hand,” he said, downing the last of his coffee and grabbing his coat. 
The walk to the stable was thick with tension, the dense silence lingering between the two of you. The sun was out, casting the image of your shadows on the crunchy snow. When you reached the large door, you slid it open, letting him go first. You still couldn’t look at him. 
You trailed behind him as he moved towards Shimmer, grabbing her saddle and slinging it over her back, fastening it. You knew Joel carried all of his guns on his person, so you began filling the saddlebags with medical supplies, ammo, water, cord, tape, anything you had stockpiled that might help him and Ellie get to where they needed to. 
“All set,” you said, fingers running over Shimmer’s mane. 
“Thank you,” Joel breathed. He was looking at you, searching for your eyes. You could feel it.
You nodded. “Don’t worry about it.” A few moments of rigid silence. “Leaving at dawn?” The question fell past your lips before you could think about it.
You saw him nod out of your peripherals. “Yeah.”
You give a nod, lips pursed. Still looking at Shimmer. Still avoiding his gaze. 
“Will you look at me?” He said suddenly, voice demanding, but ultimately soft.
You didn’t obey, looking at your feet instead. “Why?”
“It’s been a week. I know you’re givin’ me the cold shoulder, but at least look at me. Don’t act like you hate me. You’re killin’ me, darlin’.”
You blew out a puff of warm air. “If I look at you…” you started, nearly losing your gall. “If I look at you, I’ll forget that I’m trying to let you go.”
The words were thick, heavy. They hung between you two as if they were forbidden.
“Then don’t let me go,” he said, taking a step towards you. 
You said his name in a warning, taking a few steps towards the door. 
“You don’t have to let me go. I know I’m never gonna stop thinkin’ ‘bout you, honey. And I can’t promise that you’ll see me again, but I’m damn well goin’ to try to make it back to you.” 
You sniffled, “You don’t mean that.” You crossed your arms over your chest.
“I do. I mean it with all of myself,” he said, moving forward to press his forehead against yours. “Let me show you.”
Once again, you could feel his breath on your lips. His were just inches from yours, almost touching, but never quite close enough. You finally looked at him, tears brimming your eyes.
“I can’t give you much, but let me give you what I can,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his forehead into yours harder, more desperately.
At that, you broke. “Okay,” you breathed.
He took that as permission to lean himself into you, the skin of his lips grazing yours, breath mixing with his. When he finally connected his lips to yours, it was like he breathed a warmth into your body, lighting every nerve. Your hands tangled in his hair, his cupping your face. The kiss started chaste, but became breathy and passionate. It ended with your lips red and swollen, both of you needy and desperate for something more. Always more.
The rush through the snow, through the front door and up the stairs to your bedroom was needy, your hand in his, dragging you behind him, nearly sprinting with anticipation. 
As Joel was locking your bedroom door behind him, you were fisting the collar of his shirt and kissing him. Your mouth opened wider for his tongue to explore, whines muffled by his mouth. The kiss was all the things you couldn’t say, I want you, I love you, stay.
He walked you backwards into your bed, falling on top of you when your legs hit the edge. Your hands found solace in his hair, tugging just right, making him groan into your mouth. He parted from you to grab the hem of his shirt and tug it over his head. Now, your fingertips explored the expanse of his chest and soft stomach, soft pads tracing the scar that brought you to him. Kissing into your mouth, across your neck, sucking at your pulse point, his fingers grazed the hem of your shirt.
“Can I?” He asked between kisses to your collarbone. You nodded, lifting so he could pull it off.
“Take it off,” you said, left just in your bra. His fingers reached behind you to unclasp it, pulling it off and revealing your tits. He barely hesitated, taking one in his warm mouth and palming the other. Your hands fixed back in his hair, moaning. “Joel. Fuck, I need you. Please,” you whimpered. After weeks of building up the tension, of his fingers tracing your skin just for them to stop, staring at his lips and yearning, you needed him. More than anything.
Joel groaned. “Beggin’ so pretty already for me, honey,” he said as he moved down your body, undoing your belt, sliding it off with your pants and chucking them to the ground. His fingers smoothed over your panties, noticing the wet spot growing in the centre. He grinned, “Let’s see how wet you are, hmm?” Pushing the fabric to the side, he could almost moan at the sight of your drooling cunt. “Fuck,” he said, running his fingers through your slick folds, brushing your clit gently, sending a shiver shooting through your spine. “This wet already? All for me?” 
When you didn’t answer, he pinched the inside of your thigh gently, “Answer, honey.”
“All for you. Only for you, Joel.” You were breathless, nearly delirious. You’d give anything for him to touch you, to put you out of your misery. 
Joel eased one finger inside of you, then two, and began pumping them in and out of your slick folds. You moaned wantonly, all shame abandoned. “That’s it, pretty girl. Takin’ my fingers so well. Squeezin’ them so good. Can just imagine how you’re gonna feel wrapped ‘round my cock.”
You could feel the knot in your core get tighter and tighter every time his fingers hit that spot inside you, obscene noises coming from your cunt. He could feel you sucking his fingers in, growing tighter around him. He eased a third finger in and used his other hand, previously squeezing into your thigh, to rub circles on your clit. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you sputtered, getting closer and closer. 
“That’s it, honey. Cum on my fingers. There it is,” he said as you clenched around his digits, moaning his name like it was the only word you knew. He rubbed the flesh of your thighs as you came down, kissing the supple flesh of your thighs. When you caught your breath, you pulled him back up into you. 
You began to notice the firm tent pressing against you. Surely, he was begging for release, too. Who were you to deprive him of that? 
“Your turn,” you said.
Flipping him over, you began to undo his belt and slide his pants off, laying your head on his thigh, when he stopped you, resting a hand on your jaw.
“Honey, if you put me in your mouth, ‘m not gonna last,” he says, slightly flushed, chest heaving just as bad as yours. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked similarly to how he did when he was feverish. Delirious. “Just wanna be inside you. That okay?”
“Fuck, yes,” you breathed, crawling back onto him. This time, he flipped you over, caging you between his arms. He shuffled his boxers off, his hard length springing out and hitting his lower stomach, tip weeping precum. You couldn’t help but whimper. “Fuck, you’re big.” He chuckled, flushing a little. “How’re you gonna fit inside me?”
“Relax, honey. I worked you open. Shouldn’t be too much of a stretch,” he assured you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. “Ready?”
“Yes,” you breathed. “Need to feel you. For so long.”
He lined himself up with your entrance. You held your breath, letting it out in a moan as he sunk into your waiting cunt. He groaned when he was fully sheathed inside you, the sound coming deep from his chest.
He kissed you as you took him in, your body accommodating his length. “Move. Please,” you moaned into his mouth. He pulled out, sliding back in with the help from your slick. He set a slow but hard pace, clutching your body to his as he speared in and out of you. His lips barely left yours, sucking in each other’s moans and converting them to breath. 
“So tight, fuck,” he moaned. “Already clenching around me. Feels so good around me, pretty thing.”
You moaned his name, a needy, desperate call for him to go faster. He picked up his pace, breath becoming erratic, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out across his skin.
“Not gonna last long, honey,” he groaned. 
“Neither am I. Cum inside of me, please. I want all of you,” you begged, too out of it to think of the consequences. He let out an obscene moan at the request.
“Want me to fill you up, yeah?” He said as he roughly fucked into you. “Fill you up so good that it’ll still be leakin’ outta ya tomorrow?” He was delirious, almost pussy drunk. You were both chasing your release, clinging to each other like there was no tomorrow. Because there wasn’t. Not for the two of you.
“Joel, I’m…oh, fuck!” you moaned as your orgasm hit you, knocking you into hysteria. 
“Right behind you, pretty girl,” he said, grunting. “You’re squeezin’ me so good,” he moaned, finally spilling into your cunt. He pulled you back into him as you both finished, moans muffled by each other’s tongues, sucking, biting, licking, kissing.
When the ecstasy ended and he could feel you squirming underneath him, he pulled out gently, taking care not to brush your clit too roughly. He watched as his cum leaked from your puffy hole, taking two fingers and shoving it back in. You whimpered a little at the contact. “I know, honey. Just makin’ sure I’m gonna stay inside of you.”
He finally laid down next to you, bringing you into his chest. You shoved your head in the crook of his neck, taking all of him in. 
You didn’t have to talk about tomorrow, or think about it. You just needed to be here, in this moment with him, face nuzzled into his neck, his seed still leaking out of you.
Tomorrow could wait.
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You woke like you normally do, to the rays of splendid sunlight shining in through your thin curtains. Stretching, you remembered last night. Your hand reached for the spot you left him in, finding the bed cold. The cold of the sheet travelled through your fingertips, up your arm, through your shoulder, into your chest, and hit your heart. You scrambled out of bed, throwing on whatever you could find, and scrambled downstairs. 
There was no evidence that he had ever been there, except for the two pieces of paper that sat on the kitchen table. 
Your breath hitched as you picked the first one up, tears threatening to spill. It was a drawing done in simple graphite. A drawing of you sitting next to Joel, who was laying in bed. She had done it when he was still feverish. In the bottom right corner, she signed:
“Thank you for everything. I know it will work out. -Ellie”
You clutched it to your heart as you picked up the second one. A letter. It read:
My girl,
I hope you can forgive me for leaving you no room for a goodbye. Part of me thought it would be easier this way, not having to think about what you were going to say, or what you should have said. The other part of me wanted to stay in that bed with you, cozied up in your arms, until the two of us were too old to get up. I want you forever. 
But I made Ellie a promise a long time ago. She’s got nobody left. She’s just a girl, and I can’t leave her on her own. The guilt would eat me alive a lot quicker than any infection could. I have to get her to her people. When I’m done, I promise you that I’ll come back. I’ve marked your little farm on my map, there’s no chance of me missing it. Before you, I would’ve laughed at the idea of forever. Forever seemed like too long living in this world. Now, all I want is forever if I can spend it with you in my arms.
Thank you. For more than you know. I’ll see you soon.
Until we meet again.
Yours truly and forever, 
Joel Miller
part 2
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trubbishrubbish · 1 month
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I just watched this old trailer of Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair and I found some neat oddities in it.
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This trailer was uploaded to YouTube on July 12th, 2012. Two weeks before the release date, July 26th 2012.
First off, the trailer shows the first class trial. What's notable is that the Ultimate Imposter is still alive and present at it.
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I google translated a few lines from the trial in the video and the ones I did were identical to what was said in the final game. So I believe that the first trial in this trailer is largely the same as in the final game, only difference is that they swapped Imposter's death portrait with his actual sprite so to not spoiler that he is the victim.
Next, several CGs from the final game are seen in this trailer but only for a few frames. I'll show off the most interesting ones.
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This CG from Chapter 1. It shows Mikan eating sausages. In the final version of the game, this CG was edited so Mikan isn't eating anything.
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Funnily enough, this isn't the first time a CG of the party was edited to not have someone eat food. This CG with Hiyoko in it shows her with a drink but an older version of this same CG shows Hiyoko holding a plate of food.
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Remnants of this CG is still in the final game. Maybe they were included in by accident by someone on the dev team not paying close enough attention to which CGs they need to insert.
This old CG is seen in the credits.
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And in this truth bullet for the party food.
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The reason why these edits are made is becuase in the trial, it's said that only Peko and Akane have eaten the food. If any other character is seen eating food in the CGs, that would make a plothole.
This does show that during the development of DR2, the CGs were competed first before the trials were fully completed, since the CGs had to be edited in order to fit one of the debate topics for the trial.
Next up, the trailer shows an old version of the Jabberwock Island Guidebook for a single frame.
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And then later on in the trailer, there are several frames showing off end game stuff. Stuff that would be massive spoilers if you had context for them.
Like the Ultimate Imposter's Student Profile.
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Neo World Program and The Tragedy of Hope's Peak Manga.
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And this CG of the survivors entering the Graduation Exam Site.
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This last one is special as this CG isn't even in the final game but the assets for this CG are still included in the files.
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I tried my best to recreate this CG using the files. It's not 100% accurate but it's very close.
And finally, the trailer shows a few frames of the Pre-Class Trial Portraits. There's no cropping applied to the character portraits so they overlap one another.
I will compare the trailer screenshots with images of the trial portraits from this 4gamer article.
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And that's it. Pretty cool stuff.
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robinbuckleysfringe · 2 months
Text
paper rings.
a joseph quinn social media au
pairings: joseph quinn x keery!reader
warnings: pronouns for reader vary between she & they, I've tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible even tho I do use female faceclaims
part 1 | part 2
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*yninstagram has posted*
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tagged strangerthings, joekeery, maya_hawke, nattyiceofficial, gatenm123 & charlie.r.heaton
liked by tomblyth, josephquinn, millybobbybrown, rachelzegler and others
yninstagram breaking my insta hiatus to tell you all that we're back for another adventure into the Upside Down 🦇🫶🏻💕
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joekeery why'd you have to crop half my face out like that
> yninstagram to make room for nat's face, obvs
> joekeery so you're saying you love her more than me???
> yninstagram of course, duh 🙄. you should know this by now
maya_hawke reunited bby!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
> yninstagram missed youuuuu 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
madelyncline not you trying to crop joe out the picture 💀
> yninstagram there's already too much joe content on my page, the people need more nat
josephquinn very excited to join the upside down with you all!!
> yninstagram aw joe!! we're so happy to have you join our stranger things family 🫶🏻
madisonbaileybabe the 80s look great on you but I miss our beach vibes 😭🫶🏻
> yninstagram thanks hun!! I miss filming with you 🫶🏻🫶🏻
rudeth not you finally posting
> yninstagram as if you're online more than I am
rachelzegler don't die this season pls
> yninstagram I can't make any promises 😭😭😭
> user Y/N WHAT DOES THIS MEAN????
user obsessed with these bts pics!!!
user ahhhh, so excited for this season!!!
user omg they finally posted!!!
user love of my life. cannot wait to have you back on my screen!!!
☆☆☆
*yninstagram has posted*
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tagged rachelzegler, tomblyth & hunterschafer
liked by josephquinn, maya_hawke, joekeery, madisonbaileybabe and others
yninstagram my best friend made a movie 🫶🏻🕊🐍
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rachelzegler it was amazing to have you at the premiere angel 😇💕
> yninstagram love youuuu and everything you do ever 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻💕💕💕
> rachelzegler love youuu bby ❤️
madelyncline you always understand the assignment with the outfit
> madelyncline slay queen 👑😍
> yninstagram thanks bby 🫶🏻💕
joekeery it's criminal that you didn't invite me smh 😤
> yninstagram excuse me?? we're literally going to see it this weekend??
> maya_hawke do our plans not matter to you joe?? :((
josephquinn so this is why you weren't on set this week 👀
> yninstagram oops, did ya miss me? 😂
> josephquinn course not
sadiesink OMG SLAY!! 😍😍😍
user the fit is everything omg!!!
user now y/n is a person who would 100% understand the met gala themes every year
user omg pls tell me you've got a small cameo in the movie!! that would be everything!!
☆☆☆
*yninstagram has posted*
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tagged marvel & florencepugh
liked by florencepugh, tomblyth, rudeth, josephquinn and others
yninstagram booked and blessed baby!!! our new series Hawkeye drops on disney+ this december 🏹💜
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yninstagram can't keep a secret to save my life, so if you heard about this beforehand- no you fucking didn't 🫶🏻
*yninstagram pinned this comment*
joekeery proud of you!!!
> yninstagram thank you
> joekeery tho I will say I'm gonna take some credit for your success because I ran all your audition lines with you
> yninstagram 😡🖕🏻
florencepugh dream come true to work with you!! 💜
> yninstagram aww, love you flo!! 💜
tomholland2013 welcome to the MCU y/n x
> yninstagram thanks spoiler man
> tomholland2013 heyy, uncalled for!!
> yninstagram shouldn't have spoiled your movie for me then 😤
> tomholland2013 I'm sorry :((
hichasestokes congrats on being booked and busy. idk how you do it 🐝
> yninstagram i love all these projects, but really I just wanna nap
tomholland2013 wait. THEY GAVE YOU A DOG?? unfair :((
> yninstagram someone sounds jelly lol. sucks to be you I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️
josephquinn not you posting this like you didn't tell me on set 2 days ago. congrats tho, you deserve it :))
> yninstagram thanks joe 🫶🏻
> josephquinn also can you give me my guitar back now? please. I need to practice
> yninstagram you'll have to find me first haha 🤪
> nattyiceofficial they're in their trailer
> charlie.r.heaton just follow the sound of pure chaos and you'll find them 😂
user SHUT. UP
user is this real??
user omg can't believe you're bringing Kate Bishop to life!!! so excited for this!!
☆☆☆
I'm aiming for this little series to have about 6 parts to it, like my tom blyth one. but feel free to comment anything you'd like to read/see in this (or any future) social media aus 🩷
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