#in my defense i fell in love with him before they revealed he was evil | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1kook · 4 years

Text

espn & bdsm

this is part 6 of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills. warnings; smut (18+) in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink miscellaneous; kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count; 12.7k

notes; this is like… a healing fic… for the part before lol. also i did not know what was going to happen next as I was writing. anyway entire smut scene was based off THIS bad boy ur welcome fellas and the Jungkook described here is from in the soop episode 2... cutie... yes every single 1 of those words is a link

lmk what you think! a simple ask goes a long way <3

You're at the nail salon with Doyeon when she first mentions it.

“Have you ever, like,” she pauses, making a vague, swivel gesture with her head. You furrow your brows and she sighs. “Topped him. Have you ever been the one to take control?”

Your nail artist blushes, furiously filing away at your nails until the most perfect stiletto shape stares you back in the face. “Oh. Not really,” you admit, wiggling your wet toe nails around in the styrofoam flip flops issued by the salon. “I mean, sometimes I talk him through it.”

Doyeon snorts. “Babe, talking him through it and being the boss are two completely different things,” she says rather dryly, seemingly unbothered by the fact your two nail techs are being subjected to this more than intimate conversation. But you’ve had weirder talks with Doyeon in public; this doesn’t phase you. “Listen,” she says suddenly, dropping her voice down to a whisper that has you leaning closer to hear her. “You know how I’m a member of that site, right?”

You nod. “Oh yeah— Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide!, right?” She kicks your shin, but the jab is muted by the bottom of her own styrofoam flip flop.

“Yeah, just tell everyone here my credit card number while you’re at it,” she hisses. Her anger fades soon enough. “Well, they’re always sending me all sorts of freebies for my devoted patronage,” she explains. She quirks her lips to the side, throwing one brief glance at the blushing nail artists in front of you. Eventually she seems to come to a conclusion. “Long story short they sent me some cuffs and I’m gonna give you them.”

Your jaw drops. “Woah, really? I don’t know… Don’t those usually run kinda pricey?” you ask tentatively. You’re trying to play it off, act like this isn’t something you want, but the reality is so much worse.

The minute the word cuffs had slipped through her lips it’s like a door opened before your eyes. A big, wooden door with chains strapped across it and a padlock you swore you’d never open.

Somewhere in your mind, you had always convinced yourself handcuffs in bed was something you’d like to have done to you. But, because she was your best friend and by extension a personified version of all your freakiest, often filtered, thoughts, it was like Doyeon had reached straight into your cranium and extracted your most secret fantasy— and that was Jungkook in handcuffs.

Your nail artist pats your hand, motioning you to head over to the drying station. Before you can be separated from Doyeon, you whip around to throw her one desperate look. “I have never wanted anything so bad in my life.”

She cackles loudly, easily garnering the attention of every employee and nail enthusiast in the salon with the evil witch vibes she exudes.

Truth be told, your argument with Jungkook had brought upon a newfound appreciation for him. Weird to say, considering you had wanted to kill the dude when it had originally happened. But the great thing about you and Jungkook was that you were flexible people— both in bed and out. A few long conversations later and you had reached the root of the problem.

And that root was your apparent lack of communicating when something was wrong. It was weird to think that anything could ever be wrong when Jungkook was involved. He was your honeybun, sugar plum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin. Your sweetie pie, for lack of better wording, and he could do no wrong—

—is what you’d like to say. But if there’s anything you’ve learned in the past year of dating Jungkook, it’s that perfection was a made up belief that revolved around the idea that someone’s flaws couldn’t possibly be a good thing. And as you’ve come to realize, Jungkook wasn’t the perfect gentleman you’d initially chalked him up to be. He was human, just like you, with his own list of worries and thoughts, and sometimes those thoughts manifested into flaws. They could be ugly or they could be beautiful, but at the end of the day, they all made Jungkook into the person he was— and you loved that person. Disgustingly so.

You had your moments, and he had his. Everything would not always be sunshine and rainbows for the two of you, but it was fine so long as you learned to play in the rain and stomp in the puddles.

Still.

You were you.

A slightly mean, slightly conniving, petty ass human who had been plotting his revenge since the day the two of you made up. I mean, you weren’t actually just going to let him get off the hook like that, were you? He had saved himself last time with a gooey, heartfelt apology and confession, followed by some extraordinary dicking down that had left you Naked and Afraid for three days after.

But you weren’t that easy! No, ma’am. You had to let him know that some gorgeous demon dick was not enough to satisfy you after a fight like that.

Jungkook was in for a desperately needed reality check, one that jingles in your purse when you step out of the Uber that drops you off at his place. You know he’s home because his front light is on, and also because he’d texted you that he was watching some soccer match on tv tonight. He’s a pretty big fan, especially of the club playing tonight, so you decide it’s a perfect night to strike.

Your copy of his key slips right into the keyhole. Your slippers are in the same place they always are, neatly set off to the side right by the stairs. He’s not in his living room, undoubtedly the most perfect place to watch any type of sporting event with that huge Jumbotron of his. The damn thing made it feel like you were in the stadium itself.

There’s a quiet hum coming from upstairs. You creep up the steps, carefully rounding the corner at the landing until you’re staring right into his dimly lit bedroom.

The way Jungkook’s got his bedroom set up is so that you can look directly at his door from the bed, terribly inconvenient for when that sleep paralysis demon hits in the middle of the night and you’re left staring into the dark hallway. He’s snuggled comfortably over his sheets, about three pillows supporting his back. The light of the tinier, more acceptable television he keeps in his room is dancing across his features in bright shades of green. You almost throw yourself onto his mattress like a starfish until you spot the carefully placed foot on the bed.

“What the hell did you do?” you blurt. A wrong move, considering he hadn’t seen you yet and your sudden appearance makes him jump nearly ten feet into the air, almost knocking down the bag of ice that sits on his ankle. “Oh my god, it was that damned Pilates class, wasn’t it?” you fret, rounding the bed until you’re on his side.

“Oh hey,” he says as if you’re not currently pulling the first eight seasons of Grey’s Anatomy to the forefront of your head to treat him. “When’d you get here?”

“Cut the crap, who did this to you?” you ask, sitting beside him with the utmost care. You drop your bag off to the side, the loud clatter of the inside contents vaguely registering in your head. The ice pack comes off easily, revealing a relatively okay looking ankle save for the slight swell towards the more medial aspect of it.

Jungkook takes the moment to sit up, joining you in your inspection of his injury. “No one,” he answers, using his new position to drop a kiss against the side of your head. “I fell off the ladder helping Mrs. Jung across the street.”

You choke. “You fell off a ladder?” you squawk, eyes wide as your gaze shifts from his ankle to his entire body.

He places a hand on your shoulder, “babe, I was on like the third step. It was one of those old wooden ones,” he explains with a nonchalant shrug. “The step just happened to snap on my way down.”

You scoff. “That old lady is out to get you,” you warn him. “Remember the time she almost had you plug in those burnt out Christmas lights for her? The ones that would have electrocuted you to death.”

Jungkook laughs, settling back into his stack of pillows. “In her defense, she’s old,” he offers. He’s wrapped up in a black hoodie, fluffy bangs parted down the middle. He’s got on some blue shorts, a huge difference from his usual dark-toned clothing. He looks so good and warm, and you’re suddenly hit with the fact you can’t possibly handcuff this poor, injured angel to his bedpost and ride his cock into the sunset. “You didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

You deflate, wild fantasies thrown out the window. “Yeah, well,” you sigh, ditching your pants and climbing over him until you’re snuggled into his side. “Wanted to show you my nails.”

It’s a lame excuse. But he buys it, so.

“They’re cute,” he says, taking your hand in his. He turns your hand over, inspects your pretty new acrylics like he actually has any idea how much they cost or how sexy they look. He raises your hand to his face, pressing a smooch against your knuckles that has you heart thumping embarrassingly loud in your chest. God, you hated this fool.

You turn your nose up at him, like you’re some snooty rich girl who couldn’t give him the time of day. Except it’s not like that, and Jungkook knows.

“What’re you watching?” you ask instead.

He’s got that stupid dopey smile on you, the one that takes one nudge against his side to snap him out of. “Ah, just the game.”

You squint at the screen. “Is this Fox Sports?” you ask in disgust.

He pinches your side. “This is ESPN,” he corrects. “And you don’t know shit about sports channels,” he points out. “So sit this one out.” You give in with a huff, cuddling closer into his side while trying to jostle him as little as possible. Jungkook seems to have no deeply rooted concerns about his injured ankle if the way he hauls you into his arms is any indicator. “How did nails with Doyeon go?”

“You know, the usual,” you respond, idly toying with one of the strings on his hoodie as your eyes focus on the little figures running across the screen. He hums, gesturing for you to elaborate. “Talked about sex, how much better than you at life she is, some more sex.”

He scoffs at that. “Doyeon is not better than me, and I have a whole trophy case to prove it.”

“Okay, but have you singlehandedly Twitter beefed with an entire sorority in your freshman year of university and won?”

He frowns. “No.”

You give him a look, one that says stand down now unless you want to lose to my best friend and get your feelings hurt. Jungkook understands. “Anyway,” he announces, turning his attention back to the screen with you. You think his team might be winning—you vaguely remember seeing him wear a similar jersey once—so he’s pretty relaxed for now. “They’re doing pretty good considering they just lost their main striker.”

You have no idea what that means. “Who? Messi?”

Jungkook knows you don’t know. “He doesn’t even play in this league,” he explains anyway.

“Oh, I saw him trending on Twitter last week. Thought he died or something. Whole time it was just a bunch of soccer nerds crying about him leaving his team.”

He laughs. “You should be a sportscaster,” Jungkook decides after your ever-so-eloquent recap, tucking his head cutely against your shoulder. There was a study once that claimed the incessant need to squeeze a baby’s cheeks or hug puppies tightly was actually the innate human response to kill something they felt threatened by. Oddly enough, you find yourself thinking of that as Jungkook’s citrusy shampoo floods your nostrils.

“Oh, speaking of Doyeon,” he says suddenly. “Did you give her my address? I got a weird package from that store she likes that I genuinely don’t remember ever ordering.” You frown, sitting up slightly until you can look at the side of his face, the cute mole on his cheek calling your name.

“What?” you ask. “Was it in her name?” Jungkook nods. You’re about to tear the roof off his house and go hunt that evil wench down when realization dawns on you. “Oh, no, yeah I gave her your address. My mom stayed over last weekend and Doyeon needed to order something nasty. Guess it got delayed until now.”

Jungkook nods and then doesn’t say much else, which is weird considering the circumstances. You expected him to gently scold you for carelessly giving the psycho that was Kim Doyeon his address, but she’s been here a few times to pick you up, even came over for beer night once. She probably knew it anyway, but you still expected some type of reaction of disapproval from him.

Something’s off, and you know better than to leave it at that. You poke his cheek, right where that mole you’d been eyeing was. “Did you open her package?” you ask, grin slowly consuming your features at the fact Jungkook was apparently a mail snooper.

He looks away. You laugh. “Oh my god, you did,” you cackle, sitting up beside him to get a good look at the blush growing on his cheeks. “What did you see?”

“Nothing,” he huffs, pretending to be overly invested in his soccer match again, but that ship died the moment you stepped into his room. “Babe, I can't see the match.”

You roll your eyes, purposefully shifting in front of him so he’s forced to look at the maniac look in your eyes. “What did you see, Jeon Jungkook, and are we going to steal it from her again?”

His cheeks bloom impossibly darker at that. “No!” he coughs, pointedly avoiding your gaze.

But your curiosity is at its peak now, his reactions only exacerbating it. You grab him by the shoulders, hands balling the material of his hoodie as you give him one firm shake. “What did you see,” you demand.

“Oh my god,” he gives in. You release him and he flops back onto his pillow mountain. “They were things,” he explains slowly, cheeks rosy. “For your, y’know,” a vague gesture over his chest.

You frown. “A bra?” you guess. “I’m not gonna lie, Kook, think I just lost a little respect for you.”

“No!” he huffs. “They were… little clamps. For your nipples.”

If this was a cartoon, you’re almost certain you’d be that character with the object in question in their eyes, heart fluttering in your chest at the words that leave his mouth.

Immediately, two things become obvious to you.

One, Kim Doyeon was a bigger freak than you’d expected who obviously dabbled in an assortment of trades. Clamps, your brain screams, overwhelmed with the image that appears in your head, the one that has a shiver running straight to your core. You would have to thank her for this gracious, unintentional gift she’s bestowed upon you.

Two, you’re gonna have to write her the best, most plausible apology letter tomorrow when you inform her those clamps have been lost in the mail, never to be seen again. Or you could just straight up tell her you snatched them up the moment you found out what they were, but you doubt that’ll go over well.

Jungkook groans. “You have that look in your eye,” he points out. You snap your attention back to him. “And I just wanna say in advance that I don’t think i can give you the fun night you deserve, baby,” he apologizes, motioning towards his still swollen ankle.

Something distinctly mean switches on inside of you.

You flash him a sweet smile that has him letting down his guard. You lean forward, pressing a soft peck to his cheek as you climb down the bed towards your forgotten purse that’d been resting on the floor until that point. “Who said I needed you to have fun?” you throw over your shoulder, carefully slipping Doyeon’s first gift close to your body so he won’t see.

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed look. “Really,” he says dryly, “you think you can have fun without me?” He almost sounds cocky, as if the idea of you even enjoying yourself the teensiest bit without his help seems unfathomable.

You grin, padding over to his bedside, where you carefully pick up his hand. You mirror his actions from before, pressing a sweet kiss against his knuckles that makes that conceited look slip off his features for a second, eyes soft.

Click.

Jungkook frowns. “What the—“ before the sentence can leave his mouth you’re lunging forward, wrestling his hands above his head, until they’re both secured at his headboard by the soft cuffs Doyeon had given you that afternoon at the salon. Jungkook’s wide eyes stare back at you, briefly leaving to glance up at the silver chain that wraps behind one of the rungs of his headboard. “Babe,” he says slowly. “What the fuck.”

You beam at him, leaning down to snatch a pillow from beneath him so he’s better positioned, leaning back more. “So cute,” you gush, taking in the way his raised arms have the hem of his hoodie lifting at the waist. There’s a faint trail of hairs around his belly button that disappear beneath the elastic of his shorts. “Do you like them?”

Jungkook blinks. “Baby,” he says a second time, much slower and a little too calm for your liking. It almost gets swallowed by the roar of the fans on TV. “What is this?”

You ignore him, scampering around his room until you find the hot pink Sexuality Unleashed packaging peeking out from beneath his bed. Sure enough, it’s in Doyeon’s name but his address. A whole complicated mess just for some nipple clamps she’ll never see again. It’s what’s inside anyway, not that you thought Jungkook was lying, but there’s something about the actual, carefully wrapped packaging that makes your heart and pussy flutter.

“Oh! Aren’t these the prettiest things?” you exclaim, whirling around to where Jungkook is shaking up a storm with his cuffs, pout growing on his features the longer you leave him there. The ice pack slips off his ankle, falling onto the comforter beside him from all his movement.

Jungkook doesn’t seem the least bit interested in the silver nipple clamps in your hands, too busy trying to free himself from the sudden trap you sprung on him. “Sweetheart, we can play with those tomorrow, alright?” he tries, relaxing his arms and finally looking your way. There’s a frustrated furrow to his brows, one you rarely see but adore very much. “Just undo these cuffs for me, yeah?”

You tilt your head to the side, placing a hand on the inside of his calf that you trail all the way up as you move to stand beside his hip. His thighs flinch at your touch, tensing when you stop just before the crotch of his pants. “Mmm, don’t think so,” you smile, dropping the thin chain beside him.

Your shirt goes first, peeled over your body until you’re left standing in your bra. It’s nothing too special this time, just your average run of the mill comfort bra hugging your chest. But that doesn’t really matter, especially not with the way you’re hoping things play out tonight. You’d discarded your jeans a few moments prior, so the shirt joins them on a pile on his floor.

As much as he tries to act irritated by your refusal to release him, there’s a slow stirring beneath his shorts. It’s emphasized by that bright blue material, cock swelling as he watches you take off your clothes. “Baby,” he warns, possibly for the last time. But you won’t know unless you push some more, you tell yourself, placing one knee on the edge of the bed, the other thrown across his lap.

“Wow,” you marvel, picking the chain up once more. Jungkook shifts beneath you, half hard cock brushing against the cleft of your cheeks. “Don’t you wanna see what it’s like, Jungkookie?”

He says nothing, watching you with solemn eyes that leave no room for reading him. Behind you, the game commentator is chattering up a storm.

Doesn’t matter, especially not when this flimsy metal had you so completely hypnotized. You reach behind yourself, unsnapping your bra with one fluid motion that has the cups falling onto your lap, soft chest on display for the man before you. Your breasts spill out slowly from their cage, pretty hardened buds slowly coming into his view. They make him pause his fussing, half-lidded gaze falling to the swell of your chest hungrily. His hands jerk, the cuffs doing their job of keeping them there.

You grin, placing a hand on his chest, over his hammering heart. “Do you wanna see me wear them?” you croon, tugging the material of his hoodie up his stomach, until your thighs are sitting directly on his tiny waist, thin thong just over his belly button. You trail your hand up, letting it brush up the side of his neck and bury into his scalp. You give an experimental tug that has his eyes squeezing shut. “Yes or no, Jungkookie?”

He’s being a huge brat for you, eyes scrunched up together like the sight of you enjoying yourself sans his touch is unimaginable. Another tug of his hair and he’s exhaling shakily, a quiet, “yes,” slipping past his lips.

The chain drops onto his chest with a quiet thud, shocking him enough to blink his eyes back open. Releasing your hold on his hair, you sit back on his lap, towering over his fidgety body like a goddess at a temple, him the lowly worshipper beneath you.

Your hands crawl over your body, starting somewhere around your waist. The glide up over your tummy, caress the underside of your breasts teasingly. Sure Jungkook knew your body well, but you knew your body best. One hand rubs teasingly over your breast, palm pressing down slightly against where your nipple lies, while the other drops down between your thighs, slowly grinding against your mound.

“Look, Jungkookie,” you gasp, body twitching at your own hands. You take a hardened nub between your fingers, rolling it back and forth until it’s standing at its peak. “I can do it without you,” you tease, rolling your hips against him slowly. The thin material of your thong does nothing to save you from the delicious swell of his cock against you. “F-Fuck,” you whimper, circling a finger over your clit. “It’s, it’s even better.”

His restraints jiggle against the bed frame, an obvious look of distress crossing his features. “No,” he huffs out a whine, tugging at the cuffs as you slowly unravel on his lap. They don’t give, no matter how much he pulls. You know he’s holding back, afraid of damaging his headboard, and you take advantage of the fact as you move to roll both nipples between your fingers. He groans harshly, jaw tight. “Hate you,” he hisses, hips wiggling beneath you. “Hate you, hate you.”

You breathe out an airy chuckle. “R-Really?” you ask, trembling hands finally reaching back for that second gift of the day. Your breath is shallow, so thoroughly wound up from your own playful hands, and you tremble at the mere brush of the cool metal. “Oh fuck,” you whimper, bringing them up to your chest, “I’ve never done this before,” you confess.

There’s a sense of amazement that consumes you at the thin chain you hold in your hands, the pretty gold painted clamps on each end. It makes you shiver, body unconsciously grinding down against Jungkook’s lap where his engorged cock was fighting against the material of his shorts.

“Then let me help you,” he tries, the childish tone from before melting into his usual silky smooth baritone. Jungkook even softens his gaze at you, let’s his tongue peek out to wet his lips as you almost seriously consider his request.

Had it not been for the sudden loud shout from the sports commentator behind you, a long obnoxious gooooooaaal, you probably would have fallen victim to that honey-eyed gaze. You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.

Without a second thought, you bring one of the little camps close to your chest, giving it a few experimental squeezes until the nerves are replaced with an overwhelming wave of horniness that even Jungkook can sense. “Fuck,” he groans, shaking his restraints back and forth like a wild animal as you slowly get to clamping your left nipple.

You’re not sure what you expected; part of you had thought it was going to be an excruciating pain, one that would make you want to scream and shout in sheer agony. The other part had reduced it to a barely there pinch that would never live up to your fantasies. As it stands, the sensation of the clamp around your swollen nipple sits right in between, drawing in a choked gasp that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Baby, sweetheart,” Jungkook gasps alongside you, eyes zeroed in on the pinched off bundle of nerves. There’s a sudden grinding sound that fills the air, like the sawing off of wood that definitely doesn’t sound good, and it’s a direct result of the fight he puts up against his headboard. “Please, please,” he begs, muscled arms tugging back and forth. “I have to touch—“

The second clamp goes on, making your entire back arch as if you were possessed. You're not, just extremely overwhelmed by the prickle of pain on your tits that makes you grind down against his cock, hands fisting the front of his hoodie like it’s the only thing grounding you right now. “Oh,” you shudder, thighs quivering at the heightened stimulation you receive from the clamps sitting on your nipples. “Kook, I-I can’t.”

He growls, hips bucking beneath you in a crazed effort to better situate you on his lap. “You gotta take these off me,” he rasps out. The next buck of his hips makes the chain dangling between your breast brush dangerously close to his face. He’s unintentionally goaded on by the TV in the room, the annoying drone of the commentator shouting something about never giving up. “Can make you feel so much better, sweet girl,” he cooes, jutting his head out like he needs a kiss.

Your head feels woozy, pussy throbbing at the sensations being channeled down into your core. Your eyes flutter shut, and before you can think it through, you're blindly reaching for the chain, giving it one light tug that has you mewling like a kitten. “O-oh, fuck,” you sob, looping your finger around the thin chain carefully. Another tug that pulls against your nipples sends a gush of wetness down between your thighs. “Cock,” you slur dazedly, “need your cock.”

Jungkook shudders out a long breath. “Le-Let me go then, sweetheart,” he chokes out, “let me fuck that pretty little pussy for you.”

“Uh uh,” you disagree, bringing another angry buck out of him, metal cuffs rattling loudly. “Want you to watch,” you pant, reaching behind you for his shorts. “Watch me, Jungkookie.” It takes three tries for you to get a grip, the elastic material slipping from your fingers before you finally gain some semblance of control and paw them down . The shorts and the boxers came off together, his engorged cock springing up to tap against your ass. “W-Watch,” you repeat dazedly, leaning forward with one hand on his shoulder to line him up with your dripping hole. Behind you, the commentator is droning on about core balance or something of the sort. It takes two tries as you blindly have to tug your panties to the side as well, and just as you have his fiery red tip against your entrance, something else happens.

He catches you, pearly teeth biting down on the chain that connects your clamps in a motion you can only liken to a bloodthirsty shark jumping out of the water, jaws snapping to catch its prey. It dangles in his face, the same way his own necklaces have done to you so many times before. But the difference between you and Jungkook was that while you let his assortment of necklaces hypnotize you, drag across your face painfully, he doesn’t. He snaps forward, catches it between his teeth.

You mewl loudly, foggy vision turning onto him. Jungkook’s got this unreadable look on his face, likes he’s pissed off and turned on all at once. “You’re not in charge,” he murmurs around the chain, the s and c sounds all slurred together. “You will never be in charge, silly girl, you got that?” he spits, yanking his head back like an animal, pulling your upper body with him by the two golden clamps on your nipples.

There’s tears in your eyes, lining your waterline and threatening to fall with each tug his mouth gives against the chain of your nipple clamps. He’s got his neck craned back as far as he possibly can with a pillow beneath him, chain links digging into his bottom lip. “Y-Yes,” you sob, your entire body quivering at the way he so easily manages to overthrow you, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, solemn eyes flickering across your twisted features once more. He gives another purposeful tug, head snapping back just the tiniest bit, but it’s enough to tug you forward again, a loud whimper torn from your throat. “Undo these cuffs for me, sweet girl,” he commands softly, jiggling the same restraints he’d spent the better part of fifteen minutes fighting against.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, hands wildly slapping down on his bedside table. You had had half the mind to leave the key there when you had retrieved the cuffs, telling yourself it would be easy access afterwards. It’s not, apparently, the silver pick falling just out of reach. For some reason— it’s probably the sensitivity and horninesss, the pinpricks of pain that originate from your nipples —this fact frustrates you to the point of tears.

“Easy, doll,” Jungkook talks you through, voice low and soft beneath you, “relax and grab it for me, okay?” You nod, angrily blinking away a tear that drips down your face. It splatters on Jungkook’s cheek, bringing a soft huff of amusement from him.

Finally the key brushes your hand, and you sigh in relief, shakily leaning forward to undo the lock above his head. He releases his killer chomp/grip on your chain just as you release his cuffs. “I-I’m sorry,” you sniffle, a sudden need to apologize as you watch him rub at the raw skin around his wrists. “I didn’t—“

“Shhh,” he says, cuddling you into his chest. “It’s alright,” he says simply and you believe him.

Which ends up being a terrible mistake exactly ten seconds later when he’s shoving your face into the sheets, your cries and whimpers muffled by the sounds of the game on TV as he winds your arms behind your back. You struggle for all of five seconds before a soft click resounds from behind you.

“Did you think I’d just let that slide, sweet girl?” he growls against your ear, hot breath fanning across your skin. “I'm not your dog, __,” he spits, suddenly yanking you up by your cuffed wrists. Your chest is heaving, arms aching from the way he’s got you on your knees, blind to whatever he’s doing behind you. “Don’t lock me up, because I’ll always come back to bite.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you stammer, flinching when a hand snakes around your waist, an experimental tug to the chain of your clamps. It sends a shudder down your spine, amplified by the hot press of his body behind you. “I won’t do it again!”

“I know you fucking won’t,” he laughs meanly, trailing his hand down over your mound. One finger circles your clit through your underwear, a shaky sigh exiting your lips at the jarringly light touch. “Because I’m gonna fuck you until you’ve learned your lesson, silly girl.”

“I said sorry,” you whimper, thighs quivering. His cock brushes up against you, the same cock you were about to ride until the sunset. Oh how the tables have turned.

A hand slips beneath your underwear, pad of a finger rubbing against your swollen clit. “Oh,” you exhale, surprised with the suddenly gentle touch following his words. “Th-That’s nice,” you murmur, head lolling forward at the slow rhythm he sets, playing with you like you were a toy that needed warming up.

“Yeah?” he husks out. There’s a yank to your clamps that makes you gasp, chest following the motion as if it’ll reduce the shock. “You think this is about making you feel nice?” he murmurs. Another tug, followed by another, until he’s raining down a series of rhythmic shocks onto your tits that make you shiver and twitch, tongue heavy in your mouth to the point you feel like you’re drooling.

“Wait,” you whimper, arms twisting behind you. “Hurts, hurts” you cry, arching your back like it’ll save you from the steady stimulation against your rock-hard nipples.

“Does it?” Jungkook hums, one hand working away at your clit. He swirls it around his finger, pressing down on the nub in an attempt to distract you. But it only heightens the sting coming from your breasts, the blossom of pain that grows over each mound the longer he plays with you. “Good. Want your pretty little body to hurt for me, baby.”

Right after saying that he releases the grip on your chain, letting it swing back and forth until it eventually rests on your stomach, throbbing nipples spared for now. A breath of relief washes over you now that you only have to worry about the hand playing along your folds. The TV is still flickering to your right, but the commentator's voice sounds fuzzy and so far away, like he’s in a whole different dimension while you and Jungkook are here.

Your reprieve lasts shorter than you expected, as his free hand slowly begins creeping up your waist, fluttering over the little gold clamps pinching your nipples. “Pretty girl,” he compliments, nudging one tender nub with a playful finger. “Pretty, pretty baby,” Jungkook murmurs as he begins massaging the scorching hot skin around your nipples gently. There’s a warm kiss pressed to your shoulder, followed by a trail up the side of your neck. You shudder, trying to focus on the hand that creeps down your folds, teases itself against your entrance.

“Jungkook,” you whine softly, rolling your head to the side so he can suck bruise after bruise onto your skin. You’re definitely drooling, the saliva thick and heavy in your mouth. “T-Too much.”

“Thought you wanted that,” he mumbles, kissing up and up until he’s at your jaw and then he’s at your mouth, languidly kissing you. He’s doing that thing again where he’s hellbent on drowning you in his spit, and if you didn’t know better you’d think he was preparing you for something. “Wanted me to watch you bounce that tight little cunt on me while your tits were like this,” he says, punctuating his statement with a light slap against the side of one breast. It makes you jump, a moan catching in your throat.

The finger that had been playing meanly along your wet folds eases itself past your lips, plunges head first into the aching heat inside of you. He works it against your walls, thumb over your clit as he curls his finger inside of you. You moan loudly, shaking in your restraints. The hand over your chest squeezes, pushes the clamp deeper against your breast until your entire body is short-circuiting.

Your first orgasm comes over you with all the grace of a lightning bolt; it’s sudden and jerky, has every nerve ending wildly spasming as you whimper his name. “No more, no more,” you beg, head lolling back against his shoulder. He shows you no mercy, simply rubs furiously over your clit, until you’re jerking into his maniac hand.

When it’s over, he places a kiss against your jaw, curling his finger inside once more “Play with yourself,” he whispers.

“H-Huh?” you stutter, the rattle of your cuffs loud in both your ears, but not as loud as the breath you were trying to catch post-orgasm. You wonder if maybe he got ahead of himself again—he occasionally did that, thinking ahead to a point you hadn’t reached in your normal progression of sex —but suddenly he’s shoving you back down again, the finger that was slowly driving you insane rudely exiting your cunt.

You flop down against the mattress with a squeal, wiggling around like you actually had a chance of doing anything with him watching you like he is. You struggle for a few beats, every shift against the mattress rubbing harshly against your breasts until you nearly want to cry.

Just as you reach that point, he’s rolling you into your back, hands uncomfortably bent beneath you. It leaves you unwillingly arching to accommodate them, tits practically presented for him to see. “Pretty girl,” Jungkook groans, reaching down for the first time that day to touch himself.

His self restraint was truly unmatched, you realize, watching him squeeze the base of his cock. He runs a palm over his abdomen, up his chest. He drags the material of his hoodie along with it, eventually shucking it off somewhere to the side. His hair, so fluffy and soft, flops over his forehead, a few defined strands tickling his eyebrow.

The mere sight of him alone made you shiver, pussy clenching at the wet dream before you. He’s not an idiot either, obviously aware of what the sight of his body does to you, the tattoos littering his entire right arm that hypnotize you. The faint glow of the TV screen against his side makes him look like the cover star of every middle-aged wife’s erotic romance novel. He reaches said arm down, runs a hand along your thigh until you’re spreading them wide for him.

He doesn’t touch you like you want, only slides over your body until he’s toying with the chain of the nipple clamps that were slowly becoming the bane of your existence. “Open,” he says suddenly, and you do. Your mouth drops open, tongue stuck out slightly even if you don’t know why. He’s ingrained the response into you by now, made you into a desperate slut always ready for anything in your mouth.

This time it’s the stupid, stupid chain connecting your nipple clamps. He tugs it until it’s pulled up, the pull against your nipples making you whimper and writhe. The metal is cool when it touches your lips, but his fingertips are warm. “Good girl,” he praises once you bite down; even this sends a shock of nerves down your spine and to your pussy. “Just like that.”

A muffled whimper escapes your lips, tears clouding your vision at the stimulation that was quickly overwhelming you again. Part of you thinks no more, please, I can’t. But the other has you spreading your legs for him, quivering pussy desperate to be filled.

The distress must be obvious in your face if the way Jungkook kisses your neck is any indication. He’s got one hand massaging against the underside of one breast, like he’s soothing the striking pain of your pinched nipples for you. If anything, it only strings you along more. “Stupid baby,” he chuckles meanly, a soft puff of laughter against your jaw, “thinking she could push me down.”

He leans back onto his knees, that same careful brush against the inside of your thigh bringing about an embarrassing whimper as he peels your thong away. “But you didn’t really want that, did you?” he eggs on, slowly shifting down against the bed, until his mouth is hovering over your exposed lower lips. His breath is warm, makes you yearn for him to be closer. “You like when I shove my cock into your little pussy, right? Like how it feels when I turn you into my little slut like this,” he sighs, pressing one chaste kiss against your thigh that makes you pull at the cuffs behind your back.

Soon, his mouth is on your clit, the same clit he had previously pampered with his hands but chooses to play with again. He licks an obscenely wet stripe from your throbbing hole to your clit, tongue curling devilishly towards the end. You whimper, though the sound is distorted around the chain in your mouth. Jungkook groans, dives mouth first into your cunt until he’s suffocating himself. His cute nose is pressed against your clit, and he takes advantage of the fact by taking one, dramatic sniff with his eyes rolled back. A soft moan escapes him.

“Fuck,” he shudders, “smell like heaven for me.” You moan at his sweet words, eyes squeezed shut as if that’ll stop the buckets of overwhelmed tears that you’ve been fighting off since the moment the clamps came on. “Wanna give you the world, angel,” he breathes, licking languidly against your folds, tongue occasionally peeking inside.

You mewl and writhe, every movement sending a tug of pain over your nipples. You want that gorgeous cock deep in your cunt, want to feel him in your womb, but you can’t voice any of this with the chain of the clamps between your lips.

Jungkook sits up suddenly, and you’re thinking yes, finally, before the look on his face has you screeching to a halt. There’s something distinctly different about him, a look you don’t think you’ve ever seen in bed before. Your thoughts are only confirmed when his foot slides onto the floor, as if he’s about to leave.

The panic must be evident on your face, because Jungkook is quick to swoop in and reassure you he’s not done with you yet. “Wanna fuck your little pussy,” he admits, carding a hand through your hair. “But the truth is I don’t think you deserve that just yet.”

With that he slinks off the bed, leaving you writhing in confusion as he heads off for the closet behind you. You can’t see what he’s doing, can only hear the shuffling of something back and forth. The TV is still on, the loud cheering of the fans muffling his clattering. You’re suddenly reminded of his swollen ankle, craning your neck to tell him to not overdo it, when something dark covers your eyes.

He’s standing just beside the edge of the bed, his signature teddy bear heat emanating off in waves so thick you could touch them. “Do you trust me?” he murmurs, voice close but not close to your ear.

Something swells in your chest, an emotion so intense your entire pelvis tightens up at the realization that Jungkook was asking for permission to blindfold you. You’re almost certain it’s one of his ties, a silky black thing that covers your vision for the most part, save for a little crack by where your nose juts out. A shuffle to your side, and then he’s gently prying the chain he had pushed past your lips earlier out. “Need an answer, ___,” he says quietly, almost nervously.

“Yes,” you gasp, your entire body set aflame at the sudden turn of events.

If you were being honest you would have never predicted your night would end like this. Maybe you came in a little too cocky, a little too optimistic for the night. It was supposed to be Jungkook handcuffed and powerless, you remind yourself— how on earth did you get here?

“Good girl,” he praises, giving you a little encouraging nudge to raise your head for him to actually tie the knot behind your head. It’s definitely one of his suit ties, you realize, because there’s a distinct cross-stitch pattern that you can feel only when it’s tightened against your skin, pressing against your fluttering eyelids. When he releases you, you’re suddenly all too aware of the sense he’s deprived you of.

“K-Kook?” you call out with a tremble in your voice. The rhythmic pattern of his footsteps rounds the bed again, and then there’s a soft touch against your leg.

“Right here, sweet girl,” he reassures you. The bed dips by your legs as he closes in on you, still tied up and on the verge of a second orgasm that he snatched away before your very eyes; not that you can see it anymore. His hand slides over your stomach, tugs playfully at the clamps. You moan, the sensation magnified tenfold by the fact you can’t see nor anticipate his actions now.

His hands glide like two sailing boats over the broad expanse of sea that is your body, molding against your curves like waves as they go. He hums appreciatively, and you find yourself glad you can’t see him. You can’t possibly imagine with what eyes he’s looking at you now.

You bask in the glory of his attention for another beat before he retracts his touch.

And then, suddenly, something distinctly not hand-like, and weirdly soft traces over the inside of your thighs. “Kook?” you ask tentatively.

No response.

It runs over your skin in the same way his hands just did, a unique shape your brain scrambles to put a name too. It’s soft, so soft. But cold to the touch. Inanimate for sure. It’s a toy, your brain supplies belatedly, but that much you already know.

It’s heart-shaped, you realize, just as it thwacks down against your pussy.

You shriek at the suddenness of it all, thighs clamping shut. Your heart is thundering at a pace of a rabbit’s, chest rising and falling as you blindly piece together what just happened. “Kook?” you whimper a second time, head craning back and forth in a desperate attempt to track his next move.

He’s not touching you anymore, but the bed is still dipping by your feet, so you deduce he must be there. You test your theory by sliding your foot against the sheets, lower lip trembling at the idea of him not being there.

Jungkook catches your ankle with one warm palm, slightly calloused from years of weightlifting. He raises it up, the cold air of his room hitting your exposed pussy. “You liked it,” he says, not a question but an observation. Your pussy throbs, the phantom strike against it lingering. A kiss to your ankle.

“Wh-What is it?” you cry, unconsciously pressing your leg closer to him now that you have his location. (You don’t see the soft smile on his face at your action.) Ever so slowly you let your thighs open again, now anticipating the next touch of that thing— that riding crop, you realize.

Jungkook confirms. “It’s a riding crop,” he explains, excitement curling around his words. Suddenly, it returns, this time against your stomach. He doesn’t strike you like he did before, simply lets it run across your tummy. “Heart-shaped. It’s so pretty,” he sighs dreamily. “Reminds me of you.”

You nod anxiously, stomach muscles tensed the longer it stays there. Jungkook obviously sees this, lifting it to give you the lightest of taps that still manages to make you gasp. “Cute,” he laughs, trailing it back to where it first touched down.

“Oh,” you tremble, thighs twitching as it pats tenderly over your clit. “Wai-Wait,” you warn, body arching as he runs it down, down your swollen folds. “No,” you weep, going to close your legs. But Jungkook predicts your moves, pressing your thigh down harshly against the bed.

“Shh,” he soothes, tracing the heart down your folds, pressing it flat against you. There’s a distinct lining over it that makes your hips jump, a faux-velvet covering the tip that tickles your skin. “Sit still for me.”

“No!” you gasp. Your back arches, body betraying you as it pushes your pussy against the toy. “I can’t, I can’t, Kook,” you sob, lips contracting around the gaping nothingness in your hole.

He condemns your attitude with a harsh swat of the riding crop against your cunt, tearing another high-pitched squeal from your lips. It’s followed by another against your clit that makes your body spasm. “Bad,” he chides. “Supposed to be my perfect girl.”

“I c-can’t,” you whine, the darkness over your eyes making the sensations ten times more intense. You don’t know where he or the riding crop are if they’re not directly touching you. Even then, the image is fuzzy in your head. “Need you,” you pant.

You try to reach for him, try to pull him into your arms. But you’re reminded of the cuffs holding you back, the metal digging into your skin behind you. You sob at the realization, angrily shaking your hands back and forth like maybe acting like a tantrum-throwing child will save you. It doesn’t.

Instead there’s a tug at the chain resting on your stomach, one that makes you cry out in pain when it pulls at your terribly sensitive nipples again. Jungkook uses it to pull you close, just a small inch off the bed that has you gasping for breath nonetheless.

“N-No,” you wail, nipples throbbing from all the sensations you’ve put them through tonight.

A chaste peck against your trembling lips. “Tell me how it feels,” he purrs, nose brushing against yours. Even with the tie obstructing your vision, the latest version of your boyfriend burns itself into your eyelids, force feeding you his sweaty skin and damp hair until even his breath against your face is enough to bring you to the edge.

“I-It’s scary, Kook,” you sniffle, listening for any signs of a reaction. But even if he did show one, your breathing is too loud and the ESPN channel is still blaring on screen. “Scary,” you whimper, lunging forward in a desperate move to feel the familiar brush of his tongue against yours. You miss.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks carefully, like he’s afraid he’s pushed too far.

He has. But fuck, do you love it.

“No,” you wail, lips smushed somewhere along his cheek, near his jaw and not his mouth like you wanted to. “Feels good, feels so fucking amazing,” you babble, cut off halfway through by a hiccup from your sad cries. “Wanna cum, wanna cum for you like this.”

Jungkook chuckles in relief, tilting his head until you can catch his lips with yours. It’s probably an awkward angle you assume, him adjusting for your vision-less whims, but it feels so good. It sends a shock to your pussy, his plush lips against yours. Without him telling you, you’re opening your mouth for him. “Spit on me,” you beg pitifully.

Jungkook groans, and you can almost visualize the look on his face perfectly— the tensing of his jaw, the push of his Adam’s apple, the pucker of his lips. “God, you’re disgusting,” he sighs, a fat glob of spit hitting the back of your tongue. Without your vision, you don’t see it coming, recoiling with a whiny mewl. The thin trail of saliva that follows trails across your chin when he finally reels back. You swallow greedily, wondering how soon is too soon to ask him to do it again.

With your full permission to move forward, Jungkook wastes no time trailing the riding crop over your wet folds, collecting your oozing pre-cum on the tiny heart as he roves it over your cunt. “Fuck, you can probably cum like this too, can’t you?”

You can’t answer, too caught up in the featherlight brushes. Even if you wanted to say something, one sudden strike against your pussy renders you speechless. “Mmh!” you hiss, biting down on your lip.

“Come on,” Jungkook encourages, resting a hand on your thigh. He presses the crop against you again, pushes down until the flat apex of the heart where it meets the flexible stem of the toy is pressing against your cunt hotly. He grinds it down against you, takes a sick pleasure in the pathetic way you arch up into it, rut against the little heart like it can provide even half the pleasure his hands usually would. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Your body is on fire, every nerve, every sensation shooting straight to your most erogenous areas— your cunt and your nipples. Talking seems like the farthest thing from your mind right now, too caught up in the way he roughly pushes the crop against your clit. A whimper rips itself from your throat, shuddering at the sensation. Unconsciously you jerk away from him, only to be scolded with another thwack against your quivering pussy lips. “A-Ahh,” you wail, squirming beneath him like a worm that can’t sit still. “Good— it feels good, Jungkookie,” you weep.

The soft mushy pet name has him raining down two snacks against you in quick succession. “No baby names,” he warns, frown evident in his voice.

Even with you completely under him like this, shackled and blinded with your love, something unmistakably childish and obnoxious curls around your throat, has you biting down on a grin as the coil in your stomach tightens. “D-Don’t like that, Jungkookie,” you choke out hoarsely, wildly bold for someone in your position. “D-Don't like being m-my baby?”

The crop loses its position over your folds, and for a minute you’re left anxiously anticipating its next touch.

It’s on the side of your breast, harder than the rest, combining with the already powerful pinch of the clamps. It makes you cry out painfully, stomach tightening at what is probably the most unexpected orgasm you’ve ever had. It isn’t like your usual ones that overpower you and make cum trickle out between your folds.

No, it comes in waves— literally. Your pussy spasms, pushes one splurt of cum out between your thighs, almost likes your lower lips are spitting it out. And then again, more the second time, against his mattress. He pushes your legs up to your chest to marvel at the cum coating your lips and thighs. “You’re my baby, stupid,” he hisses. He grabs at your clamps then, twisting the little chain in his hand harshly. You sob at the yank, at the way your nipples feel two seconds away from being ripped off. But you can’t even complain, because the sudden touch has your pussy clenching, before a final trickle of cum oozes out of you.

Even still, your mind babbles on. “N-No,” you choke, shaking back and forth. Despite the tie covering your eyes, they flicker like a mad man beneath it, like you’ll somehow get lucky and develop Seeing Through Fabric Ability if you try hard enough. “My, my baby,” you fight weakly, pelvis trembling from aftershocks of that orgasm. “My idiot b-boy,” you smile dazedly, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sting you’ve become familiar with by now. “T-Tell me, Jungkookie,” you croon, biting down on your lip to keep a moan from spilling out mid-syllable. “Still the same, r-right?” you stutter, “still think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

He scoffs. “No,” he vehemently denies, brashly landing an unexpected smack against your hip, no warning in sight. “That’s not true,” he defends. You can hear his pout, the little push of his lips when he grows defensive.

You laugh, every bit the insane lunatic, fueled by your two orgasms and slipping sense of reality. “Ffffuck,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into nothing. “S-Say it again, baby,” you plead, tongue licking across your lips. “Tell me, tell me you don’t care about my problems, Kook-ah,” you whimper.

There’s a hesitant pause on his end, an unexpected lull in your play as he’s torn apart between doing what you want or playing it safe.

You know you’re confusing him, because you’re certainly confusing yourself. You don’t even bother trying to dissect your emotions— you’ve long since accepted your mind was a dangerous place when horny and presented with Jungkook’s sole attention. Well, you knew you were into the whole degradation bit, but this whole having-your-boyfriend-throw-the-words-that-made-you-question-your-entire-worth bit was certainly new and unexpected.

But there’s something in your heart (and in your libido) that needs this, needs him to fix this memory for you that maybe, kinda sorta, has haunted you for days, weeks now, as much as you hate to admit it. Needed him to fix the booboo he gave you with a bandaid, only leave a scar you could look back at and laugh off, not a gaping wound that opened at the slightest mention of it. Because while you forgave, you certainly never forgot*.

(*Unless forgetting meant having your boyfriend overwrite said memory that couldn’t be forgotten with the sheer power of his monster demon cock and wicked tongue. Only then could you forget.)

“Don’t be a fucking pussy, Jungkook,” you spit, feeling the hesitancy in the riding crop that brushes against your skin. It fades away quickly. “S-Say I’ve a dead-end office job; just holding you back,” you beg, trying to pretend the entirety of his little outburst hasn’t been ingrained into your mind for the last couple of weeks. Something flashes in your chest, throat closing off when the toy finally leaves your skin. “Tell me, tell me—“

He looms over you, teddy bear warmth covering the entirety of your body. “Is this what you want?” he asks seriously, lowly, breath fanning across your lips. Your makeshift blindfold feels distinctly damp over your eyes, chest heaving with an exertion that can only be emotional when he speaks so softly to you after routinely raining down brutal thwacks on you for the past half hour. “__,” he says sternly, “is this what you want?”

You gasp on a sob, unsure when these emotions had time to manifest outside your heart like this. You nod your head like a bobble head doll sitting on someone’s dashboard, lower lip trembling on a shameful cry that is not sex-induced like all the other ones until now. “I-I need this, Jungkook,” you admit, voice so tiny and soft, it almost gets drowned out by your shaky exhales and the crowd roaring on screen. “Need to overwrite it.”

He presses a soft kiss to your quivering lips, slow and so devastatingly loving. It’s nothing like the one from before where he’d spit down your throat per your request, and the unbridled adoration he packs into one simple kiss makes you crumble in his arms, sniffles piling on by the dozens.

He leans back after a moment, pulls your thigh over his forearm and finally lets you feel the hard ridges of his cock against your folds. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, trying to sound angry and annoyed, but there’s a lilting tone to his words, a love and trust you wouldn’t have been able to see with or without your blindfold, but can feel nonetheless. He pulls it off you anyway, the warm glow of the TV illuminating his face for you for the first time in about half an hour. Eyes soft, sweat trailing down his body. His body lines up against yours, but so does his heart. You feel it in the way he holds you in his arms, the way he’s careful about sinking into your folds. He slips an arm beneath your waist, uses it to hold you up so you’re not uncomfortably squishing your arms anymore. But if you ask, he’ll pretend he’s doing this for convenience sake only.

“T-Terrible fucking job,” he starts out, the stammer eluding the obvious discomfort he has saying those words, but he does it for you anyway. “Big fucking baby,” he tries again, slowly pushing past your tight walls with a shudder. “C-Can’t look away from you for two seconds because you’re such a fucking kid.”

“Worse,” you choke out. “Meaner. Please, Kook.”

He nods, holds your waist carefully when he finally bottoms out inside of you. “Dead-end office job,” he says, repeating the words that had made you want to crawl into a whole and never come out from. “Got some stupid fucking problems,” he tacks on, slowly withdrawing his hips from your heat. “Always complaining about the stupidest shit,” he hisses, fingers digging into your waist when it’s only the tip of his cock inside of you. “I don’t fucking care about it,” he seethes, forcefully snapping his hips into you.

They’re scrambled fragments of what he’d really said to you that night. Line after line that don’t carry a quarter of hurt or even make coherent sense for that matter. And still.

You whimper, mind fuzzy from the thrusting pace he picks up, body fluttering at the glide of his cock against your walls. But your heart is thundering in your throat, his willingness to help fix this memory for you tightening around your every being until you can’t breathe. “I-I love you,” you cry, clenching down around him.

Jungkook groans, pulls you flush against his cock until the thin hairs around the base of his cock are tickling your skin. “Stupid, fucking child,” he groans, “immature ass nobody,” he grunts, bucking into you like your words don’t mean a thing.

“I am, I am,” you wail, suddenly hit with the cold hard truth that your body was desperately on edge. From the stimulation your nipples had gotten all night, to the ghost of the riding crop that lingered across your skin; your body was tired, so ready for a final orgasm that you’re certain Jungkook will provide. “T-Tell me y-you—“

“Shut up,” he barks, sweaty skin gliding against yours. “D-Don't tell me what to do,” he huffs, nailing you into the bed. He’s pushing you hard into the mattress, like he wants to brand you into it. “Need to fix this— alone.”

You nod numbly, the crowd behind him cheering loudly. It’s like they’re rooting for him— for the two of you —as silly as it sounds, and as bothersome as it would be any other day, today the obnoxious sounds of the ESPN soccer match only serve to fix a bad memory from before. It’s loud and cringey as all hell, but you’ll look back to this moment and laugh.

And that’s what you want most of all. You want that memory from before, that nasty fight, to go away, to disappear forever and be replaced with this one. Of him, pounding you into the sheets as his TV blares beside you, just another day, another round of sex filled with your usual kinks. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Ffffuck,” you whine when the tip of his hard cock prods against your cervix. He’s going deep, he’s going all out, because he wants to fix this too. Wants to do anything to make it right, and he’ll never know how much you appreciate him for it. “S-So deep,” you whimper, hips jumping when he rams back inside.

“Stupid slut,” Jungkook snarls, tucking his head against your neck the same way he always does. “Making me do stupid shit like this,” he bites, but you know he doesn’t mean it, know he never will again. He rocks his hips into you, no longer concerned with holding you up from uncomfortably laying on your cuffed arms anymore as he pistons into your squelching heat. He’s pressed so close over you, lips brushing against your collarbone with each snap of his hips.

All the pushing and jostling about has the chain of your clamps wildly jumping about, sprawling across the planes of your chest, above your breasts, where he snatches it up between his lips again. “Stupid, fucking—“ he slurs, jutting his head to the side like a wild stallion. You sob at the tenderness of your nipples, at the way he pays them no mercy as he continues rutting into you like a mad dog in heat. “Slut,” he spits. “S-So fuckin’ pretty.”

Your mind is in another universe, and when that last word, that devastatingly familiar term, slips from his lips mindlessly, something inside you snaps. “N-No,” you sob, legs fidgeting around his waist at the orgasm that wracks through your body against your will. “No,” you cry in frustration, “didn’t, didn’t want—“

“Stupid, stupid angel,” he babbles, seemingly unaware of your orgasm as he continues fucking into your leaking cunt, ignorant of the cum that dribbles out, creams his cock as he carries on. “Fuck,” he pants, gnaws against the chain of the stupid clamps like he can’t bare this any longer. “Love you,” he says, though he’s still stuck in that mindset from before and his sweet confession sounds more like a threat. “L-Love that childish side of you,” he confesses, finally dropping the chain— much to your relief —and surging forward to kiss you on the mouth. He tastes weirdly metallic, a thought you can’t ponder too long as he continues ramming himself past your clenched lips and into your pussy. “Your fffucking dr-drive to succeed,” he grunts, mouth smushed uncomfortably against your cheek.

“Kook, sweetheart,” you shudder, sensitive pussy spent as he drills on. His cock is still so achingly hard, and he doesn’t seem anywhere near completion. “Take it easy,” you gently remind him, can’t brush your fingers through his hair like you usually would, so you settle for pressing your lips to his cheek.

“Fuck, fuck,” he heaves, pushing so deep you practically feel him in your womb, swollen mushroom head begging for entry. “Give me it all,” he stammers, “want you—want this forever.”

“I know you do, baby,” you coo, nuzzling your nose against his when he sloppily surges forward, panting and gasping over you like a crazed caveman. “I’m yours,” you gently remind him.

“No,” he chokes out hoarsely, eyes screwed shut. “Need more, all of it,” he mumbles. “Give me yourself, ___, need you for the rest of my life—“ he cuts himself off with a shuddered whine, so airy and wispy it makes you shiver. “Ffffuck, shit,” he howls, each thrust into your walls only unraveling him more and more. “Give me, give me—“

“Anything,” you whimper, body trembling from his excessivity. “What do you want, Kook-ah?”

He says nothing, losing himself in the warmth of your pussy as his orgasm rounds the corner. He’s in the final stretch, the final straight until achieving nirvana alongside you at the finish line. And, as you’ve long since come to understand, a true Jungkook Danger Zone. He loses all sense of self, random syllables and phrases slipping through his lips.

“Fuck, fuck, marry me— marry me,” he moans, snapping his hips into you with a ferocious speed that has you bouncing against the sheets, and that’s despite the tight grip his has on you. “Let me— fuck— let me fuck a baby into you, sweetheart,” he purrs, eyes shining like an absolute psycho, but you’re apparently into that because the idea squeezes around your chest and burrows it’s way in. “A baby,” he marvels like an idiot, eyes big and sparkly, “f-fuck.”

“Wh-What?” you choke, flinching when he bites down against your lower lip. He’s got you trapped beneath him, stuffing your brain with these ideas that make your heart enter cardiac arrest, body tingling like in Mario Kart when you’ve got the star power up. “Kook—“

“Sh,” he groans, digging his fingers into your sides as he rolls his hips against you. “Almost,” he informs you, but the blood rushes to your ears. “Oh, fuck,” he pants, jaw clenching, “oh, baby.”

Jungkook cums with a shivered cry, body hunching over you like some entity has just exited out of his spine. Maybe something did, because afterwards he manages to hold himself above you for exactly three seconds before dropping the entirety of his hefty muscles onto you. “Ouch,” you whine, wrists twisted uncomfortably beneath you.

“Sorry,” he huffs, completely out of breath and dazed as he rolls away from you. He ends up spread out like a starfish beside you, completely fucked out and definitely zooming through the fifth, sixth, and seventh dimensions.

He doesn’t say anything for a hot minute, chest rising and falling like he’s just run a marathon, until you butt in. “Kook. Undo me,” you remind him.

He looks over at you, dark hair falling over his eyes and sprawling around his head like a halo. Oh, he was going to be the death of you. “Oh,” he says, like his brain has just processed the information. “Right.” He sits up, tucking himself back into the shorts he never fully took off. That was his character flaw; never bothers to get completely naked during sex. Anyway, his straight male-equivalent of booty shorts come up around his thighs again, stretching sinfully across the thick muscles.

The five sonnet poem that was gearing up in your head comes to a halt when he touches your breast. “No, no more,” you cry, instinctively withering away.

Jungkook snorts. “I’m just taking them off, baby,” he says, reaching forward again with the same practiced ease you’d use on an animal. The clamps come off, all the nerves suddenly coming back to life. It’s a weird sensation, not having your tits subject to that prickling pain anymore, and it makes you moan softly. Jungkook soothes you with his wannabe masseuse hands, but you think it’s just an excuse for him to fondle your breasts.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks gently, hovering over you like a damned surgeon or something. His voice is so silky and smooth, hands soft against your chest. He’s so careful in the way he turns you over, somehow magically producing the tiny key pick you swore was lost between the sheets after its first use.

Being on your chest makes you tremble like a leaf, the faintest brush of the cotton against your tits enough to make your pussy clench weakly. “ I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, carefully detailing his actions like you’re not watching him with your very own eyes. But it’s oddly comforting, having him walk you through the process of rolling your sore wrists. The inside of the cuffs had a plush lining, but it was a pretty cheap thing. After he’s done massaging the skin, he pads over to his dresser and returns with a shirt and undies for you. “Shirt,” he says, helping you into the clothing.

When you’re all snuggled under the sheets again, the television still loud as hell, he mumbles, “wanna talk about it?”

You exhale against his chest, feeling so light and fluttery from your orgasms and the way he runs his fingers through your scalp and the way his heart thunders by your ear. “Hm,” you hum pensively. “Nah. Think I’m fine now,” you admit.

Jungkook chuckles. “A full miracle recovery?” he teases. You nod, taking in the comforting scent of his fabric softener and just him in his entirety.

“Yep.” A beat of silence, the commentator is back to filling the space between you two. He talks about a mile minute, spewing stats and plays you could never understand in a thousand years. But you know Jungkook will get sucked in soon enough, so you strike while the pot is hot. “Do you wanna talk?”

He cranes his neck a little to look at you. “What do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up to look at him straight on. “Oh, my mistake,” you drawl. “I seem to have missed the part where we were going to act like you didn’t just ask for my hand in marriage and then offered to get me pregnant—,” you pause, the realization suddenly hitting you like a trash can whipping down a hill on a rainy day at a thousand miles per hour. “Pregnant!” you exclaim, cheeks warm at the fact he really just said that to you.

Jungkook’s cheeks fare no better, a Flaming Hot Cheeto shade dusting his skin. “I, it was just…” he tries, poor tiny monkey brain working overtime to offer an excuse. “It-it doesn’t have to be a thing,” he blushes, big Bambi eyes flickering from you to the television to the heart-tipped riding crop by the foot of the bed. “I was just…”

You raise your brows. “Consumed by the spirit of King Henry IV to have fourteen kids?”

He blinks. “Wait, you actually paid attention to that film?”

“That’s not the point!” you exclaim, shifting onto your knees in front of him. “What,” you inhale sharply, heart beating wildly in your chest, “what was that?”

Jungkook can only play the shocked angel card for so long before he’s sinking back into his pillow stack with the sigh of a man who’s worked in construction for the last sixty-four years. “I just,” he mumbles, “I think about it sometimes.” His admission makes your heart lodge itself into your throat, wide eyes watching him spill out his heart to you.

He misreads the expression on your face. “I-Not now!” he hurries to explain. “Like,” he stammers, rosy hue slowly crawling down his neck, over his ears. “Maybe, y’know? In the future…”

You blink, brain reduced to a series of beeps and clicks like that of an old computer trying to compute information that is simply not processing. “Yeah…” you murmur, unsure of what to do with the film reel that suddenly flashes before your eyes, a look into a doorway you had never considered before. “I— me too.”

Jungkook chokes on his own saliva. “Really?” he yelps, has those sparkly anime girl eyes you always tease him about.

The gulp you do sounds loud in your ears. “Yeah,” you breathe, throat drier than the desert, but more confident than the first peabrain response. “I-I’d like that.”

There’s a bright beam of light that shines right in your face, so vibrant and dazzling it makes you flinch and by the time you’ve recovered you realize it’s his smile. “Yeah?” Jungkook mumbles back, pearly teeth framed by his pretty smile, brows raised at your stuttery confirmation. You nod. His lips twist into a smaller grin, a condensed version of the superstar one he gave you just moments before. Before you can brush it off with a joke, he’s snatching your hand up in his, a soft smooch pressed to your knuckles. “Okay,” he says quietly, dark eyes meeting yours. “One day?”

Your heart constricts in your chest, and all you can do is nod. “One da—“

“Goooooaaaaallllll!” the announcer on screen shrieks, the loud sounds of the TV killing your mood instantly.

Any dumbstruck, love struck, idiotic, ditzy expression on your face is wiped clean, replaced with an unimpressed glare you narrow on him. His nose is scrunched up like he wants to laugh, lips pressed into a thin line at your annoyance. He swipes the TV remote off the side table, arms spread open for you to crawl back into. You do so with a huff, pout smushed against the front of his hoodie.

“That’s enough ESPN for today,” he chuckles, switching the channel about a thousand times until Rick and Morty is playing on screen. “I’ll just watch the highlights later.”

“ESPN,” you scoff like an evil villain in a movie who’s just been presented with their mortal enemy, fisting the front of his hoodie.

Jungkook nods. “ESPN,” he repeats. A beat passes. “Kinda like BDS—“

“Go get your ice pack.”

epilogue

Because Jungkook couldn’t sit still for that one eventful night following his ladder injury, he ends up in a medical boot for one week, loudly clunking around the place like a reverse pirate. You snap a picture of him that you post on Twitter for your twelve followers to see, just him pouting at the doctor’s office with his new boot and club jersey on to celebrate last night’s victory.

It’s just a cute pic for you and your friends to laugh at.

Until it’s not, and his handsome face is circulating around the entire internet.

He’s being called the Face of FC Seoul, with desperate women messaging you left and right for his information. Other fans are bragging about the beauty that is an FC Seoul fanboy. It gets to the point where his face appears on the next night’s ESPN Nightly Recap, a special on social media stars posting about the game. Except Jungkook is neither a social media star nor did he even post about the game— you did.

But there he is, all five feet and ten inches of him smiling brightly at you from the ESPN Sports channel, wearing the boot he got from hand cuffing and whipping you to completion.

#goldenclosetnet #bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #jeon jeongguk smut #bts smut #mine

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honey-coloured-passion · 4 years

Text

It’s A Secret (Sapnap x Reader)

first fic first fic!

summary: Dream convinces you and Sap to join a competition where the loser gets exposed, but nothing ever goes as planned when your favorite boy is involved : )

“That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard in my life.” you laughed, rolling your eyes at Sapnap and Dream’s antics. “C’monnn it’ll be so funny the viewers will eat it up!” Dream cooed while you groaned “you say that cuz you always get like more views than Sap and I combined!” To which Dream choked out laughter through his familiar wheeze. “Oh come on, how much money for you to do it?” you heard Sapnap die from laughter over the call at Dream’s bribe before he piped up, “whoever gets exposed you’re buying dinner Dream,” and Dream immediately agreed. “Absolutely worth it, you in y/n?” and you shook your head, “why the hell not I guess.”

You started up your stream, adjusting your headset nervously as you watched chat speed up at the title “Least viewers gets exposed vs Dream and Sap” all confused as to what was going on as their three favorite streamers all went live simultaneously. “Gooooood day chat what’s up!” you grinned, thanking a couple gifters and waiting to see Dream pop up in team speak to give the challenge information. “You guys better stick with me today, I don’t wanna lose the secret challenge,” you laughed, noticing Sap and Dream joined the channel.

“Ready to learn the rules dear viewers?” Dream laughed maniacally. You watched your chat going absolutely crazy.

“Here’s how it works, we are gonna stream for thirty minutes doing everything we can to get the most viewers, then the person with the least at the end has to tell a secret they wrote down on stream, and trust me guys they’re all sooo good.” Dream wheezed while Sapnap chuckled before continuing. “We all told our secrets to George who didn’t want to stream with us cuz he’s lazy but it works cuz now he’s our keeper, so it’ll be fair and George can confirm all the secrets are crazy,” Your chat was losing it’s mind asking you what your secret was.

“So let the view-competition begin” and with that, Dream left the call. “Sap you gonna stay and hang or leave?” you asked, racking your brain to find a way to get hella viewers as soon as possible. “I’ll hang” Sapnap answered to your relief. “Good I can farm your viewers then,” you teased with a giggle. Then your phone started to buzz, and you saw Dream was tweeting out the information and begging for people to come to his stream. “Oh hell no, chat help me out!” you laughed, going to tweet on your own account.

10 minutes in: Dream 68k, You 43k, Sapnap 39k.

“Sapnapppp I’m so excited to learn your deepest darkest secret” you cooed with an evil laugh while Sapnap punched your minecraft character. “Whatever I’ll clutch up, work smarter not harder dear y/n,” you could hear the playful tone in his voice, swallowing the butterflies that kept trying to surface. “How can you work smarter if you barely have a braincell dork!” you teased, beginning to crit out his character when he realized, pearling away with a screech. “You do NOT want to play this game with me I’ll destroy you,” he ate a golden apple then began running towards you axe in hand while you screeched, running away.

15 minutes in: Dream 65k, Sapnap 45k, You 44kk.

“Sapnap how the hell did you convince four different channels to raid you in the past five minutes WHAT” you pouted with a laugh, knowing you could beat him in viewers if you just got one or two more raids. “Mhm a magician never reveals his tricks,” you rolled your eyes though your chat kept spamming “why is y/n blushing so much?” and “SIMPNAP SIMPNAP” because Sapnap was helping you decorate and finish the design of your house. You had to agree with chat, he was adorable, bringing you flowers, collecting the exact type of wood you needed, helping to fill your chests, you were beginning to forget about the competition and just enjoy his presence.

20 minutes in: Dream 68k, Sapnap 46k, You 45k.

“Oh my god it’s so close between you guys” Dream wheezed as he joined your voice channel. “Hey Dreammm wanna send me some stray viewers?” you giggled while Dream denied you. “Mhm no but maybe you can ask Mr. Simpnap to send you some of his? Heard it’s not the only thing he’s been giving you and I figured I’d crash the date.” Dream teased, his tone dangerous while Sapnap exclaimed, “hell no I’m not losing this competition and I am not a simp, especially not for y/n” Sapnap drew out your name, you could hear the smile you adored dancing on his lips. Chat was going crazy, though it was pretty well known how close you and Sapnap were due to the two of you always being on call together and just being found on the SMP hanging out, it was rare the two of you gave the fans this much flirting in one stream. Not that there weren’t hundreds of Y/N x Sapnap compilations on youtube of people pointing out how you and Sap had been in a TeamSpeak room together alone for five hours straight, or him getting defensive of you on the SMP, or him constantly complimenting your skill during MCC’s. Not to mention you always asking where Sapnap was, or someone else asking and you answering quickly, showing how frequently the two of you talked. Needless to say, he was one of your best friends, but that wasn’t gonna stop you from destroying him in this competition.

25 minutes in: Dream 78k, Sapnap 54k, You 51k.

“Hello to my new viewers! Glad you came back to support! Huge shoutout to Niki for the raid and all the raiders who stayed I love y’all!” Your palms were getting sweaty, you needed to get 3k viewers in five minutes or George was gonna drop one of your most embarrassing secrets to the world. “How are you feeling Miss Y/n?” Dream teased, he knew he was safe. “Shut up Dream if I lose I’m ordering some expensive ass food for you to pay for,” you shot back, making him die of laughter. “At least I’m not the one who’s gonna get exposed in front of like 180 thousand views,” you flipped off the camera with a grin, hoping he was looking at your stream.

28 Minutes in: Dream 78k Sapnap 55k, You 51k.

“Man I think it’s over what do you think Sap?” Dream teased while you laughed, still hopeful that something could happen in two minutes. “Eh I say give it another minute then we call it. You never know” Sap replied cooly. “Shut up you’re like 4 thousand people ahead it’s over for me” you pretended to cry, making Sapnap and Dream break into laughter. “You really don’t wanna lose huh.” Sapnap said, “um duh, this sucks,” you answered, quickly refreshing your view count.

Then something crazy happened.

~Sapnap is raiding with a party of 55k~

30 minutes, time up: You 110k, Dream 78k, Sapnap 0.

“WHAT” Dream was the first to scream. You did a triple take before screeching into the mic “SAPNAP WHAT ARE YOU DOING” to which he quietly replied, “I didn’t want you to be sad.” making your cheeks flush to an ungodly warmth. “Oh- uh does this still count? What’s happening?” you reached for your water bottle when George joined the call.

“Interesting ending, but I know the secret so I guess I’d say it makes sense” You froze. “What the hell does that mean?” You said, noticing Sapnap had turned on his camera function in the call. “O-ok, George you gonna announce his secret?” Dream tried to take control, noticing his chat was spinning out of control. George piped up, "I think it’s better Sapnap says it. I’m just here to make sure he doesn’t chicken out,” Then Sapnap cleared his throat. “Well so uh, I guess my secret is...” You saw him look straight into the camera, his eyes felt like they were meeting yours.

“I like you y/n. Like a lot.”

Your jaw fell open, George and Dream began screaming and whooping, and your chat absolutely lost it’s mind, going so fast your chat function crashed. Your immediate reaction was to mute yourself on stream. “I’m muted now- Sap- Nick, are you serious?” you gulped, staring at Sapnap’s video while he couldn’t stop grinning. “You really think I’d do all this just to lie? No chance in hell. We can talk about it after stream but I thought it’d be fun to do it live. I can help you end stream if you want?” Your brain was flying high, your heart beating out of your chest, and your mods were begging for help.

“O-okay. Uh hey chat! Nice stream today, record high viewer ship thanks to uh- Nick- Sapnap, thanks to Sapnap um, I’m gonna get off now,” You took a few deep breaths, gaining your traction before continuing. You hovered your mouse over the end stream button but decided you had one more thing to say. Leaning close into the mic with a smile you whispered,

“Oh and Sapnap, I like you too”

~live ended~

checkout my other sapnap fic!

#sapnap #sapnap x reader #dteam #dream team x reader #dream #georgenotfound #dream team fanfic #dteam fanfic #mcyter #mcyters #mcyter fanfic #dream x reader #dreamwastaken

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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years

Note

Can I request the hostage prompt with whirl,cygate and megatron with a human so

Ohoho I've been waiting to do this one... Hope everyone enjoys some silliness mixed with sweetness!

Part One: You're Here!

Part Two: Here!

Whirl

·You've always had a kind of strength Whirl recognized and admired, it's one of the reasons he fell for you in the first place, but even you aren't sure what exactly gives you the fuel to snap with enough force that it freezes your captor at their active communication station. Maybe you're just tired of being chained up, but their arrogant demeanor is more than likely what pushed you over the edge, specifically with that last taunt at Whirl that used "Cyclops" as the punchline for the millionth time. Swears are beautifully melded into an avalanche of fury that starts with you demanding this lazy idiot think of a better insult for your partner than something involving his looks, because "You think YOU'RE hot shit?! There's corpses in here with more charisma than you!"

·Fear doesn't even register as you keep on tearing apart your captor in every way you can. Nothing is off limits with all the taunting Whirl has been forced to endure on the other end of the communication line, and thus you bring out every below the belt insult you can think of. The bad bot's jaw is slack as you continue, looking to their dazed face and declaring "Not to mention you're dumb enough to go after MY mech, you think a loser like you is gonna stand a chance against WHIRL?! Just last week he tossed a combiner off a bridge because he called me "fleshy", what do you think he's gonna do to YOU?!"

· The communicator is still running when your kidnapper leaves it to try and intimidate you into silence, a move that makes you laugh in exasperated dismissal. "Oh, now you're gonna THREATEN me, really? Did I not make myself clear? You've pissed off the deadliest mech in the universe, and he's got the entirety of the Lost Light helping him search, your next few hours would be a lot better spent deciding how you want what's gonna be left of you interred!" Though you're not even knee height compared to your captor, he actually seems to flinch at your words, especially with you raging so close to his gobsmacked face. The rush of finally shutting him up spurs you to continue your roasting with increasingly petty and crude comments on your partner's significantly superior looks.

·In a stroke of fantastic fortune or misfortune depending on your perspective, a tactical explosion tears into the underground base just as you start to elaborate on Whirl's many other impressive skills. Bots rain in to overwhelm your kidnapper and his automated defenses in a coordinated ambush, one quickly ruined when your absolutely giddy paramour rushes forth without a care to take out the captor in a flying jump kick with a howling battle cry. Rather than eviscerate his now vulnerable enemy, Whirl leaves the crumpled kidnapper where he lies, heedless to the battle still raging all around as his optic sparkles as he beholds you. Like a damsel being swept off their feet you're plucked from your chains and pulled into his careful claws.

·All but gushing with euphoria, he explains that your brilliant distraction tactic gave them the ability to trace your location, and that he heard every word of your spark warming defense on his behalf. You can hear the unhindered adoration in his voice, but you also get a chance to see it as he practically dances through the combat with you held in one arm. By the time your kidnapper is the only one left, he looks lovingly into your eyes and primes his gun with a tender whisper. "Want me to kill this glitch just for you, babe?" The other bots quickly interfere to insist on taking him in for a proper trial, something you're quite alright with as you explain all you really want is to get some rest. Whirl insists on carrying you all the way to bed, whispering sweet nothing's and more or less being the most affectionate anyone has ever seen him.

·Afterwards you're told what it was like on the other end of the communication line. He'd been inconsolable at your kidnapping, and it had taken multiple bots to prevent him from tearing apart the ship as the messages came in. But the moment you'd started shouting? He'd been initially frozen like the rest of them, but had eventually leaned in beside the communicator to listen, his optic getting mistier at every passing curse word yelled on his behalf. Some described his demeanor as that of a lovestruck teen listening to their crush sing a love ballad, though they emphasize his emotional reaction to hearing you was undoubtedly genuine, as it was probably the first time he'd ever been defended so passionately by anyone. The endless doting on you he engages in afterwards leaves you little doubt this is true.

Cygate

·Having two loving partners has always been a blessing, which is probably why you're so easily driven to a blind rage in the face of your captor's endless attempts to mock both of them through the brief communications he sends to the crew, which are also made more unbearable by his ever increasing list of demands for your return. At his latest taunting of their "freakish" romance, you hit your boiling point. The communicator is still running when you lay into the callous bot for having the audacity to insult anyone's choices when he's set himself up in a literal evil lair. "There's body parts just thrown around like confetti in here, and you LIVE like this?! Do you think you get to decide who's weird in this scenario?! At least those two were decent enough to have each other as roommates, you couldn't convince anything living to shack up with your creepy ass!"

·At the total silence you somehow find the fury to keep going, but harder and faster this time, your self restraint little more than a memory as you dangle from the chains keeping you still. "Is it a jealousy thing?! Are you just that peeved off you're single? That you had to steal me to cut them down from three to two? Bad news dumbass; they're STILL beating you on the dating front!" It's not helping your situation, but tearing in to the jerk who's dragged you into a cave and spent so long bullying your partners feels too good for you to stop, especially with the stupid look of indignation and confusion twisting his expression. Not to mention he gives you plenty to rip into even as he tries in vain to make you shut up.

·"You think you scare me?! Do you even know who I'm dating?! Do you think they'll let you get away with this stunt?! One of them can destroy your stupid face with one punch, the other is Cyclonus, and you've gone and pissed them both off!" While it may be a little underwhelming to threaten the guy with what others will do to him, you're hardly in a mood to complain when his expression briefly gives way to one of horrified realization. Yet that hardly calms you down in any significant way. Did he drag you to some nowhere planet and chain you to a wall without even bothering to consider the consequences?! Your back is killing you and the bots have been enduring his incoherent demands for hours, and perhaps you could forgive that if not for all his haughty taunting, which drives you to once again begin raging.

·"Did you even have a plan?! Do you actually have any idea what you're up against, or did you just think you'd swipe a human and earn an easy paycheck? Because if you had even an inkling of what my mechs are capable of, you'd be headed for the nearest space bridge and warping as FAR away from here as physics allow!" While it's a new level of ridiculous, even for your crazy life, the absurdities of the nonexistent plan simply make you see red. It's one thing to be kidnapped by someone who at least has goals, but to be chained up in a cave by some idiot who doesn't have any plans beyond profit and bragging? That'd be enough to tick you off in itself, but the additional insults he's levied at your partners bring your tirade into molten levels of anger that seem absolutely bottomless.

·You're practically red in the eyes when the whole place quakes, and by the time you realize your captor is booking it he's already made it to the door, though his escape ends there when it opens to reveal the bots you've been wanting to see more than anything. A single strike from Cyclonus sends the kidnapper clear across the room, and he's followed by a battle ready Tailgate roaring out his fury as the security systems come on. The chaos of automatic turrets does nothing to distract you from the little blue bot pummeling your captor, and it only makes the arrival of a familiar purple mech that much more heroic as he snaps your chains and pulls you into his arms. The battle is little more than a formality before the barely conscious villain is cuffed and prepared for transport to trial, something your two partners are only willing to allow under the threat of personally hunting him down if he tries to escape justice. Before even leaving the cave you're smushed in the middle of a passionate hug.

·Tailgate alternates between ecstatic buzzing and relieved weeping at your rescue, while Cyclonus never loses a soft smile but keeps finding opportunities to hold and touch you as if he needs to be reassured you're here. It's heartwarming, but according to the rest of the crew it all started at your unplanned radio takeover. No bot had been prepared to hear their favorite human erupt in such unbridled rage, but those two had been shocked in the most wonderful meaning of the word, their expressions reflecting awe like no other until the ship had actually arrived at your location. Cyclonus had actually gone slack jawed while Tailgate had threatened to faint in his arms, but joy had painted their reactions more and more as time had gone on. The tiny powerhouse and the colossal mech out of time were still effusive in their praise every time you three were together, neither having ever known someone could truly love the two of them so completely.

Megatron

·Knowing that Megatron has a sizable target on his back and a lot to be criticized for doesn't make enduring your captor any easier, which is probably why you end up reaching a boiling point after a few hours of listening to the bot who's tied you up try to claim some kind of moral high ground. A tiny human being protective of a titanic gladiator may be illogical, but you can't seem to care when you finally hit your limit, the chains keeping you in place rattling from your sheer force of rage. Because seriously, so long as we're criticizing people for immoral actions, can you cut in about the time some raging jerk tied you up just to taunt another bot and get some cash on the side? Your simple but glaring barb immediately gets the attention of the much larger alien as they stare at you in shock.

·At his bafflement you become entirely unhinged. "Really? What, do you need me to spell out the irony of all this?! You're calling MY MECH a monster, but I don't see him running many evil lairs at the moment, do you?! Kind of rich, you claiming the high ground while I'm literally CHAINED TO THE WALL and our only present company is CORPSES, don't you think?!" The various and still unexplained dead bodies dotting the cave remain as the only audience you know of while the communicator is abandoned, your captor leaving it behind so he can approach and try to growl out some kind of intimidation. It has no effect beyond making you more furious than ever before. Had the chains not been holding you down, you'd have certainly tried to swing at his stupid face while you snapped.

·"Are you trying to scare me? You, a two bit kidnapper who holed himself up in a cave, and I'm supposed to be impressed?! I'm DATING Megatron! One look at a bot that terrifies the galaxy and I decided I wanted a piece of him!" You're almost proud as you declare your undying love for your gigantic partner, something that has earned you a lot of grief from others but has made you happier than you've ever been in your entire life. While you ordinarily don't attempt to argue on his behalf, per his request, it's impossible not to just grill a jerk who thinks he has the high ground to criticize literally anyone. Plus your open and passionate fondness for the former warlord seems to be scaring your captor more than the mech himself ever could, something that brings a devilish twinkle to your eye as you continue to threateningly gush over the bot you adore, if only to pay this jerk back for all the gloating he made said mech endure.

·You're absolutely effusive as you passionately and quite aggressively go on about what a gentlemech you're dating, with ample divertions to the many ways his incredible strength and size are used for much more protective and noble purposes, like holding you close or crushing bad guys. It isn't long before you're spinning a terrifying yarn about the time you were caught in a firefight and he tore a hunk of the wall clean off to shield you from the danger before proceeding to beat the attacking forces with the corpse of their leader. The kidnapper is actually backing away slowly, which turns to backing away quickly as you begin to describe Megatron's romantic poetry skills and how some of his greatest talents lie not on the battlefield but in the bedroom, by which point he's preparing his security systems to cover his escape.

·Perfect timing, from your perspective, makes the sudden explosion of every door a beautiful and inspiring sight. In what has to be the most well coordinated ambush of all time, your friends of the Lost Light storm the cave and annihilate the resistance so fast you only have to blink before a very restrained Megatron is cuffing your petrified kidnapper and tossing him to Magnus so he can be taken into custody. When he turns to you he's actually smiling, and there's a lot behind the expression. Relief, gratitude, exhaustion, and a million other emotions swarm in his optics as the chains keeping you bound crumble like dust in his grip, and you're lifted in his cupped hands like a priceless treasure. Though he's mostly quiet for some time after, you can hear how absolutely smitten he is with you every time he speaks, and the lovestruck look of pure affection never seems to leave his face, which you see often as he appears terrified to lose you.

·A couple of other bots feel compelled to tell you; he was on the warpath when he found you missing, and many had been taking bets on how little would be left of your kidnapper once the former Decepticon got his hands on him. Yet, as soon as he'd overheard you, something about his whole demeanor had changed in an instant. He hadn't just softened, he'd been visibly moved by the passion of your defense and the fire of your love for him. The very idea that he could be defended had been unthinkable in his mind. Yet you'd faced a much larger foe without fear because you'd been so angry on his behalf, what could he possibly have done to deserve such a thing? His gratitude is apparent every moment the two of you spend together, from his rather out of character cuddling to his impressive increase in poems written to describe his adoration of you. Though it isn't at all necessary, you do enjoy having been able to let him know how deeply you cherish him.

#transformers #maccadam #mtmte #more than meets the eye #lost light #idw #tf #my writing #my asks #anon #requests #whirl x reader #cygate x reader #cyclonus x reader #tailgate x reader #megatron x reader #human reader #self insert

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elerondo · 3 years

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Headcanon | Rivendell and Celebrian

This headcanon is set in the timeline from S.A. 1697 to T.A. 2501, so it’s going to be very long. It is my attempt at the fullest account of Elrond’s priorities in that timeline, and his life and marriage to Celebrian. And the After.

PRELUDE After the initial crush that Elrond had on Celebrian, Elrond did wait more than 1700 years before proposing to her. Elrond did not want to subject her to a life of war and hardship with him when they’d only just met. Elrond loved Celebrian enough to let her go home to safety and a more peaceful life. But Elrond loved Middle Earth more, that he would sacrifice his personal happiness in order to protect and save the free peoples.

The dire costs of the War of the Elves and Sauron were echoes of the War of Wrath, where Elrond had seen the wrath of the dragons as a youth and the trumpets that eventually marred and sunk Beleriand. He was determined not to let Eriador reach that stage of destruction, and since few of the strangers in the Valley were well enough to engage in battle, Elrond was frequently at the helm of offensive measures against the forces of Sauron that sought to besiege Rivendell.

POST WAR OF THE ELVES AND SAURON When Rivendell was founded, it was basically filled with refugees and soldiers gravely wounded from the destruction of Eregion and Sauron’s conquest of Eriador. Simply put, Rivendell was functional at best, and a stinky shit hole of armour and blood at its worst. A stronghold with severely weakened military power. There was no Ring of Power to protect it yet, so Elrond took it upon himself to ride out and meet evil before it could come near. Frequently, he rode from the northern foothills of the Hithaeglir, to the south bordering the outskirts of Eregion, then east across the valley to the ford of Bruinen, and even further still to penetrate the forests to the west.

Even though Elrond wanted to beautify Rivendell with other areas like education, hospitality, music, etc, it remained clear to Elrond that his immediate and most urgent priorities had to be taking vanguard in most marches as his elves and men were recovering, returning home, or sailing West.

After Vilya was handed to Elrond and he was made Lord and Master of Rivendell, Elrond was at the peak of his power and strength. Loyal and following the passions of a war won, the coverage of Vilya stretched from the Men-i-Naugrim to the Coldfells to the Last Bridge to the meet of Mitheithel and Bruinen. It matched his initial marches, patrols, and more. Elrond purified the forests and straightened the roads, dealing death to the last of the fell beings out of the Coldfells, the East Road, and the Old Forest Road. Strongholds were built upon the Misty Mountains and the borders of Eregion to keep watch on the southern and eastern passages. Where the Ring could reach, there Elrond’s spirit was, working its inner machinations to keep it safe.

FALL OF NUMENOR Elrond took his marches very far south to keep the borders and to exercise his Crown rights. He tripled the patrols around southern Eriador. If there were any stray survivors, they must be verified clean and without evil before they could travel. Otherwise, they were caught and handed to the nearest City willing to let them stand trial. When the presence of the Crown Prince of the Noldor increased near the borders of Gondor, there were quite many mixed reactions. A certain pressure to observe decorum, for example, to stop everything one was doing to answer questions, possessions checked thoroughly, and weapons that were deemed stolen or machines of darkness were confiscated until further notice. As long as one saw the banners of Gil-galad, even from a distance, they were compelled to stop and obey.

MARRIAGE TO CELEBRIAN Elrond is not a free and easy leader. He is a leader who actively chooses to sacrifice his happiness, his reputation, rest / sleep / food, for the sake of protecting and aiding the people at large. Elrond’s version of taking care of himself was stretched until his limits threatened to break, then rest for a while. It was the equivalent of sleeping once a week.

I think that Celebrian would have heard a lot about Elrond and what he was doing, Elrond’s fame and infamy spreading far and wide over the Misty Mountains. On the other side of the land, Elrond knew his deeds and renown were preceding him. He had some fears that he wouldn’t be well liked, because who could understand the land’s emergencies as well as him? He didn’t think anyone could, not because he was arrogant or wanted to do everything himself, but he was the most endowed.

Celebrian would be the only person Elrond could be weak to without being judged, rejected, or told to change or stop what he was doing. With her, Elrond was that bit more comfortable in taking / asking for comforts, and sharing his griefs, resentment, the nasty stuff and not just his plans, counsel, the good stuff that was always dispensed to all without cost. Celebrian was the shoulder Elrond cried on, while he was the shoulder for the world. Celebrian was the person whom Elrond revealed all of his quirks and eccentricity to. It was Celebrian who really made Rivendell into a Homely House. Celebrian was the one who helped him fulfil his visions and execute the blueprints of his mind while he properly focused on keeping Eriador and Rivendell safe. With her in mind, Elrond took more care of himself because he did not want her to be worried about him. Elrond was the healthiest in the 1000+ years before the Angmar War.

ANGMAR RISING The split and existence of Rhudaur in T.A. 861 unsettled him and so Elrond frequently visited Arthedain in secret, debating upon many topics of potential insurrection and defense strategies. The chief of the matter were these: Both Rhudaur and Cardolan desired to possess Amon Sul, and Rhudaur resisted Argeleb who claimed to be High King over all of Arnor. Elrond was sensitive to the matters of kingship and the Palantir. For the lands of Men and the Palantiri to come under one king was better than for them to split into the hands of the wrong people. Celebrian understood that for Elrond to ally Rivendell with Arthedain, hostilities with the rest would be inevitable.

( my Angmar war timeline here where Elrond suffered a Morgul-wound at the end of )

THE WATCHFUL PEACE … is a deceitful name. It was more watchful than it was peaceful.

Rivendell spent the early years recovering from the 600 year war, especially Elrond - being the first of all elves to suffer a Morgul-wound, a large scar on his back with no recovery method yet. Elrond had to devise and experiment on himself, while he was suffering from it, before he managed to heal himself. However, the military never again rises up to any relevant standard in a war. A lot of commanders were lost, Elrond was weak and sick, and many elves succumbed to their injuries, grief, and they faded or sailed West.

Every year for the rest of Elrond’s life in Middle Earth, on the same week, the Morgul-wound brought Elrond searing and debilitating pain. He still could hold the power of Vilya over The Angle and the Misty Mountains, but the western forests and Coldfells were neglected.

Rivendell never ceases to send patrols across Eriador, despite Elrond being in an extremely bad shape and the vale was desperately short handed. Elrond depended on Vilya more, both to heal and to protect, as he would leave Rivendell defenseless except for the Kingsguard, while he sent aid and resources everywhere else. Celebrian was beside him every step of the way, going into a Post-war scenario in a huge piece of land called Eriador again. They really could not enjoy the quieter times at all.

Furthermore, before the Watchful Peace ended, evil again invaded Eriador. It was followed by Galadriel’s summons of the White Council.

CELEBRIAN ASSAILED, DEPARTURE TO THE WEST 46 years later, tragedy ended the marriage of Celebrian and Elrond. He would be officially widowed with her passing over the Great Sea. The greatest healer who ever lived could not save his greatest love.

He let her go when she made her choice to go. He did not force to stay her, it would be too cruel to her. Elrond chose to do what was right instead of what was kinder to himself. When she left, she tore half his heart and flesh along with it.

This trauma is one that Elrond carries with him. The darkening of the times did work to twist his sacrifice into guilt, into thoughts of ❛What if❜ he was stronger, more powerful, better, or enough. Because of how obvious it was that Celebrian’s assault was premeditated by Sauron to weaken Rivendell, Elrond would always blame himself for bringing her into his life. Perhaps he should have just continued hiding his love. Perhaps she would have been safe. Perhaps.

In Elrond’s lowest moments, he could not understand what was so good about Valinor. He could not reconcile Celebrian’s choice of Aman over him and their 3 children together. For all his wars and battles in Middle Earth, no army ever came from the West to aid the people. He has no good perception of Aman. Over time, Celebrian’s departure joined one of many gravestones that Elrond had to force himself to move forward from. It was the only way, force himself not to dwell on it, bury himself in work, in the forge, in planning. For his children, for all the people who depended on him, for the sake of unseating Sauron, Elrond had to move forward even if it was by crawling through the mud.

His love for her did dull, did become mixed with depression, and he feared to see her again if he sailed to Aman. Elrond fears that Aman might actually be better for Celebrian than him. The dilemma? Wanting Celebrian to be happy and healthy, but wanting it to be him for her and no one else. Elrond knew the solution to that, and the answer was: Not him. It is a fact that is so hard to swallow at times, that he has to leave the love of his life in someone else’s hands.

#lord of the rings #lotr #elrond #celebrian #tolkien #the hobbit #✵ ʙᴏᴛʜ ɢʟᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏʀʀᴏᴡꜰᴜʟ — headcanon

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whatislove-bambi · 4 years

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Oops... (I Love You)!

Snow White AU

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

+++

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

_______________________________________________

Pairing: Taehyung/Reader

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

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

Words: 19k.

_______________________________________________

We begin our story in the Land of Fairytales.

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

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

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

Alright, here we go.

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

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

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

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

“You mean Prince Jimin?”

“Yes, that prick.”

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

Taehyung wasn’t even listening - this brat!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jin’s smile slips and he feels annoyance bubble.

Okay, screw it, fucking Kim Taehyung.

“What was your question again—“

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

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

An idea flashes into his mind and he grins deviously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A moment of tense silence passes before —

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

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

“I will have her murdered.”

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

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

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

***

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

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

“Mhm, too tired to do anything else.”

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

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

“That sounds like fun.”

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

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

“Come, let’s walk home together.”

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

***

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

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

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

“Amen to that, my dear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Were you crying? Panic seized his heart suddenly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

“Y/N, drinks for the miner!”

“More meat over here!”

“How’ya doin’ doll?”

“Refills, Y/N!”

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

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

You take a seat and watch the people around.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When’s a good time for you?”

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

“How ‘bout tonight?”

That catches you by surprise. “Tonight?”

“Yeah! If it’s not too forward…”

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

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

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

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

“I will see you when the sun sets!”

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

He has a knack of taking you by surprise!

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

“So… where would you like to go?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you so calm about all this?”

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

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

“I have an idea,” Jin pipes up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What have you gotten yourself into?

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

“What are you doing?” Jin deadpans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s praying that Taehyung will forget.

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

+++

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

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

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

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

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

“Find me JK.”

Jin tenses immediately.

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

To make matters worse… the cabin was inhabited.

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

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

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

JK was a different story.

Number one, his name is Jungkook.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This common peasant has done it again!

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

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

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

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

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

He finds three spells.

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

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

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

After all, horror comes in threes.

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

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

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

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

Then the magic is gone.

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

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

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

His arms are short and furry!!

Trembling, he stands, looking down at himself.

Oh no… no, no, no…

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

He’s a dog!

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

Taehyung groans, the sound coming out in a whimper.

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

Well.

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

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

He’ll show them.

He’ll show them all!

***

Jin is tense.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon nods understandingly.

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

“A disguise,” Namjoon supplies.

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

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

***

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

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

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

A sudden sound off to the side gets your attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well.

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

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

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

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

Without shame, you tilt the dog gently and peek.

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

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

Thus, Taehyung has lost this round.

+++

The next days are splendid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung scoffs - you’ve got jokes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes shine with unshed tears.

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

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

Taehyung’s heart doubles in speed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You genuinely care for him.

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

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

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

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

+++

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure!”

“Bark!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It should be a Happy Ever After.

But.

It’s not.

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

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

Then an idea hits.

A devilish, perfect, evil idea.

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

New Plan: Poison Prince Jimin.

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

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

You and Taehyung live happily ever after.

The End.

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

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

A bark.

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

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

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

Another bark.

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

Another bark and a string of growls.

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Oh, for me?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen.

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

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

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

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

Taehyung does what he can only do in this situation.

He eats the apple.

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

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

Taehyung feels immense pain course through him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stare in shock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He finally tells you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it? Maybe I can help.”

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

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

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

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

You hate Taehyung.

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

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

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

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

He did whatever he could to make you smile.

Sighing, you give in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jimin quickly shakes his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing happens.

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

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

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

Great. Jin just left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then — something just clicks.

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

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

You pull away, mortified at what has happened.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re welcome.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because you miss her?”

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

“What, you’ve been stalking her?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you love her?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+++

You sigh for the umpteenth time that day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” you greet, soft and unsure.

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

Your lips twitch. How cute.

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

“You were,” he asks, surprised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I…?”

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

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

So close… so cl—

“Ahem!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Me?” You question, taken aback.

“I did?” Taehyung blurts out.

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

“You didn’t tell me—“

“Because you would’ve backed out!”

“I’m your King…!”

“King, my ass—“

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

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

You stare, eyes wide as saucers.

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

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

“Well… I love to, Your Majesty.”

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

“Really.”

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

+++

Life with Taehyung is beautiful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay?” he asks, just to make sure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N and Taehyung lived Happily Ever After.

_______________________________________________

***Epilogue***

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

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

All was well within the Land of Fairytales.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seeing you roll your eyes, he laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” he growls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Taehyung,” you beg.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung is hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You brat,” he chuckles breathlessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A deep, warning groan leaves his throat.

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

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

That moment is all he needs —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The End.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #taehyung scenarios #bts imagines #bts reactions #taehyung imagines #taehyung reactions #v smut #v imagines #v scenarios #taehyung fanfic #v fanfic #bts fanfic #taehyung x reader #v x reader

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catxsnow · 4 years

Text

TRUTH BE TOLD D.G & J.T.

Request: Alright homeslice hear me out: dick x reader x jason love triangle. And reader is so oblivious and doesn't realize it. One night they're fighting someone and reader gets hit with like a love/truth spell and BAM angst and fluff galore

Warning: Fluff, Angst, swears

A/N: I hate love triangles but I made an exception just this once. I’m sorry about this ending.

Also if you don’t know, Klarion is a bratty Witch Boy. Pretty much all you need to know for this lol. Also I love Zatanna, okay I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST HER it was just for the plot.

GIF not mine

Word count: 4.2k

Damian was tired. He was tired of seeing his brothers so ridiculously pine over you. First off, you were far too beautiful to stoop as low as them. Secondly, they continuously tried to gain your attention that has made them look like narcissistic idiots. Whether it was trying to show of their muscles with some sort of cool move or prove their intellect, they tried everything.

You didn't work with Batman full time until moving to Gotham. It was the occasional team up that got Dick and Jason absolutely infatuated with you. When they heard that you were moving to Gotham for good? Well, they were in the least to say, very, very excited. Even with Dick in Bludhaven most the time and Jason off fighting around the world, it was a hell of a lot easier to see you when they came home.

Much like Bruce and his family, you were just human. No powers, no magic, just someone who wants to see the world a better place. Maybe that was the reason that Batman trusted you so easily - well as much as he trusted anyone. Being human meant that you had weaknesses, a lot of them.

One of those weaknesses included being completely oblivious to people's feelings about you. Most of your life you were cut off from emotions. If you wanted to do a good job of cleaning up cities from crime, you couldn't be distracted by caring for others. Year after year you told yourself it was just part of the job.

Until you moved to Gotham. Becoming part of the Bat-team made you realize that it was okay to let people in, even just a little bit. If the great Batman himself cared for a select few of people, why couldn't you? Damian had become the annoying little brother to you, Tim as well. It was with Jason and Dick where things became more complicated.

The two men had obvious feelings for you - everyone was aware about it except for you. They were allured by your skills, beauty, talents, and genuine selflessness. Night after night they had an endless war of trying to see who you would choose. You hadn't noticed either of their attempts at this, to you they were just being friendly.

This was why Damian was tired of it. You didn't even know about their feelings and yet they still fought about it when you weren't around. Jason and Dick would yell at each other, trying to prove who deserved you more. Bruce and Alfred had to pull them apart before things got escalated nearly every time.

It had been going on for years, and even though they both had been in and out of relationships over the years, it seemed that the end goal was always you.

"I'm getting really fucking sick of this guy!"

It was supposed to be an easy mission, in and out before anyone could even see you. Of course, things had to go wrong. Klarion the Witch Boy had been hiding within the shadows and the second that he laid eyes on you, all hell broke loose.

Objects were thrown in your direction constantly and it was becoming a struggle to continue to dodge them all. There was no way that you could get a clear shot on him with his force field protecting him and his stupid cat. No matter how many explosives and sharp objects you threw his way, there was no chance of getting to him.

It was against your wish that you had to call in for back up. After being on your own for this mission, you were quick to realize that Klarion was far too powerful for you to take down on your own. Bruce and Damian arrived as fast as they could to help you, the others were unfortunately busy with missions and couldn't come to you even if they wished to.

Their entrance had distracted you for only a sliver of a second, but that time was all Klarion needed to cast the first spell he could think of off the top of his head. A red blast protruded from the palm of his hand and went straight towards you. It hit your right in the chest and the force of it pushed you painfully into the nearest wall.

Your head smacked against the cement and black spots covered your vision because of it. As you tried to push yourself up off the ground, you could see Klarion getting away. He wasn't prepared for a fight against Batman himself. Your arms collapsed from below you and you didn't have the energy to even sit up.

The last thing you saw was Robin running towards you with worry on his face.

You woke up to bright lights. The small med bay that Bruce had in the cave was always lit up and each time you were stuck there you always wished he'd get different lights that didn't hurt to look at. The groan that you admitted while sitting up caught the attention of those who had stuck around for you to wake up.

Jason, Dick, and Damian were all there waiting for you to recover from the spell that Klarion had cast upon you. They were still unsure what he had done to you, but if you didn't seem to be in any danger from it, at least nothing that would be permanent. They wouldn't know until you woke up.

The three boys hovered over you, watching your every movement. "The last thing someone wants to see waking up is your ugly faces," you joked. The three of them rolled their eyes nearly in sync as they gave you some space. "What happened?"

"Klarion hit you with a spell," Damian informed you. "How do you feel?"

"My headache feels worse than the time that I showed up hungover for patrol with Bruce. Also, I’ve got the weirdest craving for a PB and J," You blurted out. Your eyes were wide at your answer - you definitely didn't mean to say that out loud. "What the fuck. I didn't mean to say that. What did that Witch Rat do to me?"

"We don't know," Jason answered. He glanced between you and Dick. Both of them wanted to hold you in their arms, to make sure that you were safe with them. Neither of them made a move to do so, not when they didn't know what was wrong with you. "Do you feel any different?"

You shook your head. You felt fine. Your body wasn't that sore and you didn't feel sick in any sort of way. Hopefully, his spell was nothing but a distraction to get out of there and not something that would leave you suffering for the rest of your life.

"Maybe we should call Zatanna, she might be able to figure out what he did to you. What do you think?" Dick offered. If anyone could figure out a magic spell, it would be her. Your thoughts immediately went to the time that she and Dick had briefly dated and your mind went sour.

"Zatanna was never good enough for you Dick, you always deserved better than her. She's a liar, and a sneak," you said aloud. This time, your hands physically covered over your mouth from what had just come out of it. There was no way that you intended to say that out loud.

"Whoa, (Y/N)," Jason held his hands up in defense. You were never one to be snippy with other people. There were the time that you got annoyed and flipped on them, but never behind their backs like this. What the hell was going on with you? "Tell us how you really fell," he continued to joke around.

"I feel like sometimes I meant to be alone in this life. That I'll never be good enough to have someone love me because of the things that I've done, the people I've killed. It's come to the point where I don't feel like I deserve to wear this suit because of how aggressive I've become while in it."

You one again held your palm of your mouth. Where did this come from? Why did you just reveal your darkest insecurities to them? Insecurities that you could barely admit to yourself, much less someone else. Even if you did trust these boys with your life, you didn't always trust them with your feelings.

"What the fuck!" you screeched. Whatever Klarion had done to you, it was taking effect. You would never say anything like this, everyone knew that. You were reserved when it came to any emotions, maybe just as bad as Bruce himself. The surprised look on the boy's face had made you feel even more embarrassed for what you said.

The shock quickly turned to pity. They had no idea that you felt that way about yourself. Dick and Jason both wanted nothing more than to just tell you how they felt, to assure you that you were worthy of love. They might not have had the cleanest slates either, but you still deserved to have someone love you.

"Klarion put a truth spell on you," Bruce had joined the four of you. You hadn't even noticed him arrive and wondered how much of that he had heard. Bruce knew that you had killed before, but he also knew how it tore you up at night and that it wasn't something that you were proud of. "You're lucky he didn't kill you."

"Because you think I can't do things on my own, don't you?" You questioned with hostility in your voice. "I didn't mean that. Yes I did. Bruce! Fix this!" You had a turmoil within you. No matter how hard you tried to stop yourself from blurting out how you truly felt, you couldn't do it.

Bruce said nothing else, but nodded once before leaving. As soon as his father left, Damian gained a bit of an evil look in his eyes. Before you could even try to stop him, he had already started talking. Truth spell that you couldn’t resist answering? He was going to have a lot of fun with that.

"Did you eat the last slice of cake and blame it on Jason?" Damian asked. There was no way that he wasn't going to take advantage of this situation with you, but he wanted to start off with easy questions to see how powerful this spell really was. You should have known that he was going to do this.

The list of questions that any of them could ask you was horrendously long. The more you thought about it, the more you really did have to hide from them. You were pretty secretive and without being able to hold back the truth, they could find out everything from you if they wanted to.

"Yes," you told them. Jason's gained a look of hurt at your words. "Damian was holding a knife! What else was I supposed to say. He scares me." Damian looked content with your truth about him.

"When I lost my helmet a month ago, was it you that took it?" Jason narrowed his eyes. It had disappeared only for a day. When he checked the next time, it was in the exact same spot that he left it. For a while, he assumed that he had just been too sleep deprived but the more he thought about it, the more he knew that someone had to have taken it.

"Yes," You told him. "I wanted to see what the tech was like but then I kind of was having fun and didn't want to take it off. I also stole your sweater when I went over too, it's still in my room but I don't want to give it back. And I took the left overs in your fridge and left the note so you would think it was Roy."

Jason scoffed and shook his head at your answer. He wasn't expecting you to admit so much to one question but he was glad that he asked. The things he was dying to ask you, he knew that he couldn't with everyone else there as well. He had to restrain himself from asking, the answers that were just at the ready for him were so tempting.

"Why does Alfred the cat hate you?" Damian leaned his body closer to you. You felt intimidated under his stare but no matter how hard you bit your tongue you couldn't stop yourself from answering again.

"He wouldn't leave me alone so I threw him in the water fountain in the garden."

Dick and Jason couldn't help but laugh at that one. Damian looked furious at your answer but you had paid for your mistake. Cat scratched lined your arms for the next week.

“Do you sleep naked?” Jason raised an eyebrow. The questions were surely going to get a lot more personal and if they weren’t surrounding you, you already would have made your escape. Unfortunately, you felt too weak to push them away and there was no way you could outrun them.

“Sometimes,” you answered. The truth spell didn’t seem to be quite content enough with that answer and made you spew out more unforgettable words. “Yes, all the time.”

"Wait, wait," Dick stopped his brothers as they both opened their mouths to ask even more questions. Though there was so much that he wanted to ask you, he knew that it was wrong to do so. "This is mean, we can't take advantage of (Y/N) like this. She has the right to her own privacy."

"Thanks, Dick," you half smiled at him. You appreciated that someone stepped up to stop anything from happening that you would regret.

"But," Dick continued. Your eyes widened at what he was going to say next. You were sure that they could hear the rise in your heart rate and the see the beads of sweat form on your forehead. being unable to hide what you wanted to say made you more scared than half the missions ever did.

Dick wanted nothing more than to ask you the question they had all been thinking: Jason or Dick? He wanted to know once and for all who it was that you cared for more and which one of them had a real chance with you. This back and forth arguing with Jason was tiring him out. He didn't, it didn't seem right to ask you this question against your will.

"You hooked up with Roy when we were part of the Teen Titans didn't you?"

"After every mission."

Between Damian's disgusted face at you, along with Jason wondering how Roy ever managed to hook up with you, and Dick's disappointment, you could tell that this was not the answer that they were wanting to hear. They wanted to know why you had hooked up with Roy rather than either of them.

Truth was, they just never asked.

It had been days and the spell still hadn't worn off. Everyone in the manor kept forgetting about your truthfulness. It was the simple, mundane questions that they didn't expect you to be so open about.

How was your sleep? Who forgot to make coffee? Why is there no milk left? You had openly admitted to them that you were on your period and would much rather take a bullet to the chest than go through this every month.

The worst time had to be when Steph asked about her outfit. She simply wanted another woman's opinion and had completely forgot about your open honesty. After that morning she vowed never to ask about an outfit from you ever again. You felt terrible for saying such awful things to her.

Each question got a very snippy, very truthful answer which you felt bad about. Thankfully, no one teased you anymore about asking ridiculous questions about yourself that you weren't wanting to share. Bruce had scolded his kids for being rude to you - you were a guest in their home until all this was over.

Since you were staying there, that also meant that Dick and Jason had decided to hang around as well. Although you were worried they were still going to ask you certain questions, you were glad to have their company. It had been a while since you had spent time with them outside of missions.

The two heroes were starting to lose their patience with each other. Jason wanted to ask you how you felt about them, it was the perfect time in his eyes to ask. There was no way that you could lie about your feelings and they would finally know the truth after all these years. Whoever you picked, would put an end to this war.

Dick on the other hand, saw this as too much of an invasion to your privacy. If you were going to pick one of them you either would have said something already, or weren't ready to admit it. Forcing you to reveal your feelings seemed like something you would hold against them forever.

Which had brought on another fight between the men. They yelling had caught your attention from your room, but it was the loud crash that followed that made you run downstairs to see what the fuss was about.

Damian stood between Jason and Dick, both of which had a vicious look in their eyes. If there was nothing blocking them, you were sure that they would be right in the middle of a fist fight. Damian looked relieved to see you standing there.

"I'm tired of this useless nonsense," Damian scowled. "(L/N), if you were going to date either of them, which on of these imbeciles would you choose?"

That was a question you had been dreading to be asked. Both men played an important role in your life. They were your best friends, your family. Each of them supported you in their own ways and you would always be thankful for everything that that have done for you. But having to pick a favourite? You didn't want to have to do that.

Jason was the kind of person that would stand up for you no matter what. After everything that he went through with Bruce, he knew that he could be a hardass at times. Jason protected you from things that you didn't even realize you needed protecting from. He kept you sane in this crazy world that you lived in.

Dick managed to always brighten your day on the worst lows you had. He had his ups and down in life and he knew how hard it was to get out of those valleys just by yourself. Without him, you weren't sure what kind of endless pit of self-destruction you would be in. He was there for you when you needed him most.

"I..." you stuttered over your words. These past few days, you hadn't had the choice to think about what you wanted to say. Whatever you felt deep within your heart and mind was the only option that you were allowed to say out loud. Now, you felt a relief in your chest, the ability to say whatever you so choose, not the deep, hidden truth within.

"I don't have to answer that," you told the three of them. Jason and Dick had egarely been waiting for your answer, it was all that they wanted to know within the past few years. Who would you pick? You did you think would treat you better. The questions had been on the tip of their tongues all week and it was finally Damian who had caved. "I think the spell's worn off."

"What?" All three of them nearly screeched. This was the one question that they had been dying to ask you and now that they finally did it, they would never get the real truth out of you. They had missed their shot.

"No, there's no way," Dick argued. He looked panicked, Damian had admitted that the two fought over you and now that they got the chance to see what your choice really was, it was taken right from the palm of their hands. "What was the most embarrassing thing that happened to you out on patrol?"

The tightness in your chest that you felt when you had been asked questions didn't appear. You didn't feel the need to blurt anything out either. The spell that Klarion cast on you was finally out of your system, and just in time too. You didn't want to know what would have happened if you had answered that question.

Truth be told, you didn't even know the answer.

You shrugged to answer Dick's question - of course you could remember the most embarrassing things that happened to you, it was engraved in your mind for the rest of your life. Without another word, you grabbed your mug of coffee and headed over to the three of them. You kissed the top of Damian's head - to which he grumbled about it.

Damian left the three of you - there was no way that he wanted to be part of whatever was going to happen next.

"(Y/N)..." Jason trailed off. He didn't even know what he wanted to tell you. He wanted to be honest, to tell you that he loved you since the day that you had told him off. He loved the way that you protected everyone no matter the cost but still ruthless against your foes. He loved everything about you.

How was he supposed to compete with someone like Dick? The golden child. Mr. Perfect. There was no way that you would ever pick him over Dick, so why did he keep getting his hopes up? Why had he fought for so many years for your affection? That was what love was all about, he just didn't know it.

"How long has this been going on?" You asked. For years, you had no idea that they had feelings for you. Dick was the biggest flirt you knew, you had just gotten used to it. Jason was always kind to you, you assumed that he was just being the protective friend over you. All these years you were oblivious to how they felt.

"Years," Dick answered briefly. Just like Jason, he wanted to tell you his true feelings. There was nothing more that he wanted than for you to pick him. But how was he supposed to compete with someone like Jason? You were more like his younger brother than you were ever like him, that was how he assumed that you guys got along so well.

Jason was always the person that you leaned on when things were getting rough. He knew how to make you feel better about the terrible things you had done because he had done just the same. Dick was never able to fully understand the difficulties that you went through, not like Jason. After all these years, why did he keep trying?

You sighed, followed by rubbing a hand down your face. That wasn't the answer that you wanted to hear. After knowing them for half your life, you felt like an idiot for not knowing that they were feeling this way. The answer that you gave them about Roy, their reaction to it, it finally made sense. They weren't disgusted, they were disappointed that it wasn't them.

Back then, when you felt like your heart couldn't be broken and that you would never break someone else's, you would have happily had put either of them in Roy's place. Now? Now, the three of you were adults, vulnerable to heartache and mistrust. You were glad that neither of them had gotten the chance.

"I would take a bullet for either of you - I have taken one," You sat down on one of the stools that sat at the kitchen island. Both of them stood before you, waiting for you answer. The anxiety in the room had never been so high before and for the first time in your life, you felt uncomfortable under their gaze.

"And you both know that I care about you, a lot. That's something that's never going to change," you continued on. "There is no one that I trust more with my life than the two of you... But I don't think I could ever trust either of you with my heart. I'm sorry."

You stood up from your spot on the chair. The heartbroken look on their faces nearly broke you. You didn't want either of them to hurt from your answer. The last last thing that you ever wanted to do was hurt them. You loved them both, it was just never the way that they wanted to be loved by you.

With as much delicacy as you could muster through your shaking hands and wobbling chin, you placed a kiss on each of their cheeks. The men leaned into your touch, soaking up every ounce of you that they could get.

"You know that I love you both," You spoke once more just before exiting the room. Your back was facing them, turning around meant that you would have to put on a brave face and that wasn't something you were sure you were capable of. Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks - whatever friendship you shared with them, it was going to be different now.

You were all adults, something like this shouldn’t change a friendship that had been lasting for years. Yet, if they had been arguing over you since they were young, you were sure that their teenage mentality of this whole situation would overpower their adult intuition.

"You deserve better than me, you deserve someone that's going to love you unconditionally. I want you both to be happy, without me."

Truth was, they never would be.

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impalas-r-important · 3 years

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Love of my Life - (11) Family Remains

Summary: Hunting has been a constant the past month, but the next case Dean finds takes an unexpected turn.

Warnings: Show level violence.

A/N: This is a rough rewrite of S4 E11. As always, I love hearing feedback from everyone! Let me know if you want a tag.

Series Masterlist

“Stratton, Nebraska – Farm town. A man gets hacked to death in a locked room inside a locked house, no signs of forced entry.” Dean did his best to ignore Sam’s comment about hunting non-stop for the past month. You were all exhausted, Dean included, but he had to move from job to job to keep his mind off of the never-ending-nightmare memories of his recent trip to hell. He had only opened up about it briefly, so you and Sam did your best to respect his wishes and move from one hunt to the next. Truthfully, you didn’t mind it so much. This was pretty much your life before you met the Winchesters, but at least now you had a team to do it with.

“Sounds like a ghost.” Sam grumbled.

“Yes, it does.” Dean agreed, implying that you’d be heading there ASAP. Sam let out a sigh and fell backwards in the backseat. Dean looked to the passenger seat at you, waiting for any objections but you understood his need to keep moving. You met his gaze with a half-smile and touched your hand to his arm, giving a small squeeze.

The impala roared down the winding dirt driveway leading you to the old farmhouse. Dean expertly picked the lock, pushing the door open to let you and Sam in ahead of him.

“Boy, three bedrooms, two baths and one homicide. This place is gonna sell like hotcakes.” Dean snarked. Sam chuckled and led the way into the kitchen where Dean found a sealed hole in the wall.

“It’s probably a dumbwaiter. All these old houses had them.” Sam commented.

“Know it all.” Dean immediately responded.

“What?” Sam questioned.

“What?” Dean tried to play dumb.

“You said…”

“What?”

“Never mind.” Sam frowned and continued searching.

Dean turned to you and gave a shit-eating smirk. You were more than happy to see Dean teasing Sam. It meant he wasn’t beating himself up inside at that moment.

The search of the house didn’t reveal much other than a doll head in one of the closets, sitting patiently as if it were waiting for you. You were cut short by a moving truck pulling up outside. You and the boys approached the family under the pretenses of being fake county code enforcers and were able to persuade the family to stay at a motel for the night because of asbestos in the walls, buying yourselves a little more time.

Much to your chagrin, the family had decided to go back to the house and start moving in. Night had fallen and you and the boys waiting in the car just outside trying to figure out a plan. The three of you sprang into action when you heard yelling coming from inside. The kids had been hearing and seeing things, and just as Dean was trying to convince them to leave, the power cut out. Cries from the dog led everyone outside where the words “too late” were painted on the moving truck in blood. The family was spooked enough that it took little convincing for them to go back to the motel. You ushered them to the cars, only to find the air let out of all the tires and the weapons stolen from the back of the impala.

“What the hell kind of ghost slashes tires and steals weapons?” You thought out loud. The screams of the daughter turned your attention to the side of the yard, where a disheveled, dirty girl was standing, staring at all of you.

Dean hurried everybody inside and drew a large salt circle, instructing them to get inside. The dad of the family wasn’t buying the “ghosts are real” storyline and tried to get his family out. You quickly stopped them and convinced them to stay.

Dean and the uncle, Ted, were having a power struggle of sorts, and you did your best to diffuse the situation, letting Sam go check out the attic, while you and Dean stayed with the family. While Ted was being an ass to you and Dean, a closet door slowly creaked open, getting everyone’s attention. A pale, skinny, dirty girl slowly revealed herself and made her way towards you. Her hair was ratted and broken at the ends, covering her face like curtains. Rotten black and yellow teeth peeked through her evil smile, complementing the blood stains on her night gown. You could smell the death on her from across the room.

“Everyone stay calm and inside the circle. She can’t get in here.” You stood defensively in front of the family as Dean held an iron fire poker at the ready. The old floorboards ached with every step the feral girl took towards you as she brandished a knife that was hiding in her sleeve. Something about this seemed off to you, and you were sure Dean felt it too. She slowly raised her foot up and over the line of salt and your stomach dropped. This wasn’t a ghost at all. This was a real girl. Crap.

“Y/N, get them out of here!” Dean yelled as he dodged a swing of the knife.

“Go, go! Now!” You herded the family outside, worrying what would happen to Dean. “Stay here!” You ran back inside, just in time to see Sam shine the flashlight on the girl, causing her to scream and run.

You, Sam and Dean all ran outside to the family. “It’s just a girl?” You couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t something you’d ever experienced.

“It’s not just a girl. It’s psycho Nel. I’m telling you man – humans.” Dean rolled his eyes and looked around.

“Who is she then?” Sam asked.

“Maybe it’s the daughter of that first guy killed? Rebecca?” Dean suggested. You had spoken to the cleaning woman who told you that she had killed herself in the attic.

“She’s way too young to be Rebecca.” You added.

Dread washed over everyone when you all realized that the little boy, Danny was missing. You and Dean exchanged worried looks and you swallowed hard. The family began to freak out, but Dean was able to talk some sense into them. He told them to hide in the shed, but the father and uncle wanted to be out looking with you. Sam asked you to stay behind with the mom and daughter to protect them. You begrudgingly agreed.

“Who are you people?” The daughter asked you.

You sighed. “Like Dean said, we hunt ghosts.”

“Are they going to find Danny?”

“Yeah, they are. Sam and Dean are the best at what they do. Everything’s going to be okay.” You did your best to comfort her.

Dean knocked on the door after not too much longer, entering with Sam and the Dad.

“Where’s Ted?” The mom asked.

The silence answered her question. The girl had killed him in the house. Dean exited the shed, clearly needing some space. You knew he blamed himself for Ted’s death.

“What’s that?” You asked, referring to a book that Sam was reading.

“It’s Rebecca’s diary. I found it in the attic. I think I have something.”

“I’ll go get Dean.”

You walked outside to hear Dean’s conversation with the dad, who had stepped out for some air. Dean was promising that he would find Danny, no matter what the cost. You knew that easily translated into Dean being willing to give his life to find the boy.

“Dean.” You interrupted their conversation. “We’ve got something.” He nodded and followed you into the house with Sam.

“I finished reading Rebecca’s diary. Pretty sure that girl is Rebecca’s daughter.” Sam informed.

“Rebecca had a kid?” Dean asked as he moved boxes around, blocking one of the doors closed.

“It’s all she talks about. Being pregnant – being ashamed of being pregnant. Her dad said he would lock the baby up after it was born.”

“Why would he say that?” Dean questioned.

“Oh, gosh. Please don’t tell me it was his…” You picked up on Sam’s uncomfortable body language easily.

“Oh. Gross.” Dean said when he picked up on what was happening.

Brainstorming led Dean to believe that the dumbwaiter probably led to where Danny was being held. He busted the wall down in the kitchen, uncovering a drop to a dark opening.

“I’m gonna go down there and find Danny. Y/N, why don’t you go back out to the shed with the mom and daughter.” Dean ordered.

“Excuse me?” You shot back. His words were degrading, even if that wasn’t his intention.

Dean pulled you to the side and spoke in a low, calming voice. “I’m not sidelining you. But someone needs to be out there protecting them and you’re the best one here in a knife fight if that hillbilly bitch goes after them.”

You could tell he was being sincere and didn’t mean any harm to you. You grabbed a large kitchen knife and made your way outside while Dean looked for Danny in the basement.

The mom and daughter were holding each other by the back wall of the shed when you walked in, giving them a jump. You held your hands in the air. “Just me. They think they might know where Danny is.”

Your words gave them a light at the end of this dreadful night.

Not even five minutes after you had joined them in the shed, the back window was smashed forcing the mom and daughter to the other side of the shed where a knife slashed at them through a slot in between the wooden panels.

“Get behind me!” They ran to the most protected corner of the shed and you stood in front of them, knife at the ready. The incestuous girl snuck her way into the shed through an old trap door near the bottom of the wall and you ran at her, catching her off balance and knocking her down. You quickly disarmed her by kicking the knife from her hand and then jumped on her, slashing her throat with one fell swoop.

You moved the worktable that was blocking the door and opened it. “Let’s get you out of here.” You blocked the dead body as best as you could, gesturing towards the exit. The boys met you outside and Danny ran over to his mom. The family held each other, sobbing in a mixture of relief and terror.

“There was a brother.” Sam informed you. You quickly looked between Sam and Dean, concerned that this hellish night wasn’t over yet.

“I took care of him.” Dean answered your not-yet-asked question.

The sun rose as Dean had finished fixing the tires of the Impala. You and Sam had spent the night gathering the stolen weapons from the trunk. You said your goodbyes to the family and took off before the police could show up.

Dean parked the car near the pillars of an overpass and the three of you got out to eat, though none of you were very hungry. Sam excused himself to lay down in the back seat, leaving you and Dean in a pensive silence.

“You okay?” Dean asked.

You kicked some rocks around as you leaned against the concrete barrier. It was gloomy and overcast, matching how you felt inside.

“I’ve never killed a human that wasn’t also some kind of monster...” Killing that girl was weighing heavier on you than you expected. “That was so messed up. The whole situation.”

“Yeah.” Dean set his untouched burger down on the barrier next to him. “It’s just going to get crazier with the whole apocalypse starting.”

A few silent moments passed between you two.

“Why are you putting up with all this?” Dean asked bluntly.

“All of what?”

“You still want to hang around with us after everything? After knowing that Sam drinks demon blood, and that I tortured people in hell? Why are you even still here?” Dean refused to look at you, and you knew that this was him pushing you away to try to protect you.

“When I look at you, I don’t see a damaged man who’s been to hell and back. I see Dean Winchester, the hero. You’re the boogeyman’s boogeyman. All the little monster kids ask their parents to check for you under the bed before they go to sleep. I heard your conversation with that dad last night. You were willing to give up your life to find a boy you had never met and will probably never see again. But that kid isn’t the exception. You’d do that for anyone, wouldn’t you? Dean, you’re the guy who’s going to save the world.” Dean kept his eyes fixed on the same spot on the ground, so you continued. “But even more than that, you’re the guy who keeps a box of Milkyways under the front seat in the car because you know they’re my favorite. You’re the guy who watches Jeopardy on tv when you think Sam and I are asleep, and you get every answer right because you’re brilliant. You’re the guy who warms up my side of the bed while I’m brushing my teeth because you know how cold I get at night, and you’re the only person in this entire world who has ever made me feel like I’m worth something. So why am I still here? Because you’re the love of my life, Dean Winchester. I love everything about you. Including your habit of taking bites of my food every time I’m not looking. Yeah, I noticed.” That last sentence pulled a small smile across his mouth.

You looked into the car to see Sam passed out, breathing steadily. “The same goes for Sam. I don’t look at him and see the boy with demon blood in his veins. I see the goofy, floppy haired Sam who is a genius, who’s ambitious and fun and caring and brave and I see that he’s trying his hardest to do what he thinks is right.”

Dean cleared his throat and stood up, reaching his arms out to you. “Come here.” He pulled you into a tight hug which both of you desperately needed. “Thank you.” He whispered while his face was buried in your hair.

After a few long moments, Dean pulled away and reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a small chain and handed it to you, gently placing it in the center of your hand to reveal the trinity knot that was formerly your mom’s ring. He had cleaned it up and polished it, trimming off the broken part of the band to create a beautiful pendant necklace. Tears began to well in your eyes and your vision became misty.

“I didn’t have the right kind of metal to fix the band, so I made it into a necklace. I hope that’s okay.” A small tear traced your cheek as you closed your fist around the necklace, then wrapping your arms around Dean. “Your dad gave it to your mom because it means never ending devotion, right?” You nodded into his chest. “Thank you for believing in me.”

Dean was never really one for long, sappy speeches. You knew exactly what he was trying to say by giving you this gift.

“This…” you fought back your tears. “This means more to me then you’ll ever know, Dean. Thank you”

“Let’s see it on you.” Dean took the necklace from you and put it around your neck as you gathered your hair in the back so he could do up the clasp. He took a step back and made a rectangle with his index fingers and thumbs, pretending to look through it. “Even more beautiful than I imagined.” He gave you a soft kiss, then motioned to the car with his head. “Let’s get outta here.”

Chapter 12

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@idreamofdeanie

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural #spn fanfiction #spn s15

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rpf-bat · 4 years

Text

You Fell In Love With A Vampire

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: Horror, Romance

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 7. Prompt: “Blood.”

It’s late at night, when your best friend, Gerard shows up on your doorstep. He’s frantic, and covered in blood. He tells you that he’s been attacked - and reveals the bite marks, on his neck. When a strange thirst begins to take him over, your relationship with him changes forever.

It had been a year since you graduated from SVA, and moved into this shoebox Manhattan apartment. But, you still hadn’t gotten used to how noisy the city could be at night. Even at this late hour, you could hear drunk people shouting, and taxi cabs beeping their horns. What they said was true - New York really was the city that never slept.

But, I had to move into the city, to be closer to work, you reminded yourself. I’m lucky that I landed a job in my field, at all.

You were debating whether to get out of bed, and fix some tea, when you heard a knock at your door.

Who could it be at this hour?, you wondered sleepily. Should I just ignore it?

The knocking continued insistently.

“Ok, I’m coming…,” you mumbled. You pulled on your dressing gown, and looked suspiciously through the peephole. To your surprise, you recognized the face on the other side. “.....Gerard?!”

You had known Gerard, since your first year of art school. You considered him one of your closest friends. But, he had never shown up on your doorstep, this late. What the hell was he doing here?

“Y/N, please open up!” you heard him beg. He sounded like he was crying.

Concerned, you opened the door. You gasped, when you saw the blood on his shirt.

“Y/N, you have to help me,” Gerard stammered. “I….I just got fucking attacked!”

“What?” you gaped. “By who?”

“I can explain,” he sniffled. “Just...please, let me in!”

“Of course,” you nodded, ushering him into your living room. “Sit down….it’s gonna be okay….”

“I’m s-sorry,” he said, sitting hesitantly on your couch. “I didn’t know where else to go….you’re the only person I really know, who lives on this side of the Hudson.”

“Sssh, it’s okay,” you consoled him, putting an arm around him. His whole body was shaking.

“I stayed at the office really late tonight,” Gerard explained. “I was working on a drawing, and I guess I lost track of time. I was getting ready, to get on the train, and head back to Jersey for the night. But, as I walking to the station, this creep came out of nowhere, and cornered me in an alley.”

“A mugger?” you guessed.

“No!” Gerard shook his head. “I threw my wallet at him, but that wasn’t what he was after.”

“What did he want, then?” you asked, confused.

“My body,” Gerard shuddered.

Your eyes widened - you never expected him to be a victim of that type of crime. But, assault isn’t something that only happens to women, you reminded yourself. Anyone can be a target.

“He started kissing my neck,” Gerard recalled, shaking, “and, like, biting on it.”

“That’s horrible,” you said, terrified to hear the rest of your friend’s story. “Did he….?”

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “I fought him off, before he could do anything else to me.”

“Oh, thank God,” you replied, relieved that the bastard had not violated your friend any further.

“I have a knife that I keep on me for self defense,” Gerard clarified. “I managed to cut him pretty deeply….what’s crazy is, he took off, like the injury was nothing.”

“Seriously?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah!” Gerard replied, still looking shaken. “Oh, god….his blood splattered, when I sliced at him. Some if it got in my mouth….I can still taste it….”

“Do you want a cup of tea?” you offered, unsure how to help your clearly traumatized friend.

“Yes, please,” Gerard said softly.

You got up, and microwaved a mugful of water. You grabbed a tea bag from the cabinet, and set it in the mug, to steep.

“Let that sit for a moment,” you cautioned. “It’s gonna be pretty hot. While you’re waiting on that, can I look at your neck? You look like you’re bleeding, a little bit…”

“Oh, god, am I?” Gerard shivered. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

“I should have some bandages, somewhere,” you nodded. You sat down beside him, and gently tugged his shirt collar down. The fabric was soaked in red. “This looks kind of deep….”

“Am I gonna be okay?” Gerard asked nervously.

“Yeah, let me put some antiseptic on it, and you’ll be fine,” you assured him. You grabbed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the bathroom, and poured some onto a cotton ball. “I’m sorry if this stings a bit….”

You daubed the cotton ball, onto the bloody bite mark, on his neck. What kind of sick freak would do such a thing?, you thought to yourself. It almost looks more like an animal bite…

Gerard winced, as the antiseptic made contact with his skin.

“I’m sorry,” you frowned. “I’m trying to be gentle.”

“It’s okay,” Gerard said softly. “Thank you, Y/N, for helping me, even though it’s so late.”

“Of course,” you told him, as you placed a Band-Aid on the wound. “I wouldn’t turn you away, when you’re in such obvious distress, like this.”

“Y/N…..I was so scared,” Gerard confessed, tears welling up in his eyes again. He dove into your arms, and began to cry on your shoulder.

“Ssssh,” you quieted him, gently rubbing his back. “It’s okay, Gee. The son of a bitch is gone now. You’re safe.”

“Y/N….,” Gerard mumbled, his voice muffled by your shirt. “You...you smell so good…..”

“Huh?” you blinked, pulling away from him.

“I….I’m sorry,” he blushed. “I don’t know why I said that.”

What a weird thing to say, you thought, bewildered. It almost sounded like he was coming on to you….but, that wouldn’t make any sense. After what he’s been through tonight, romance would be the last thing on his mind.

“.....Your tea should be cool enough to drink now,” you said awkwardly. There was no way he would hit on someone like you….even if he hadn’t just been groped by some pervert.

“....Right,” Gerard said, and picked up the mug. He drank it quickly, setting the empty mug back down in seconds.

“You must have been thirsty,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“I still am pretty thirsty, actually,” Gerard admitted. “Would it be okay if I had some more?”

“Yeah, sure,” you shrugged. “I can fix you another cup.”

“Before you do that,” Gerard asked hesitantly, “would you mind taking a look at my mouth?”

“Your mouth?” you repeated, confused.

“My whole mouth hurts for some reason,” Gerard explained with a frown. “It feels like, when I had my wisdom teeth.”

“Uhh, sure,” you decided, moving closer to him, on the couch. You didn’t understand how the attack could cause a symptom like that. But, you didn’t think he would make it up, either.

He opened his mouth wide, so you could see it better. You leaned in, scrutinizing him with your gaze. At first, you couldn’t comprehend what you were seeing. There’s no way…..

“Gerard,” you paled, unsure how to tell him what you just saw. “You look like….you’re growing fangs.”

“Huh?” Gerard blinked, closing his mouth. “What are you talking about?”

“Go look in the bathroom mirror, if you don’t believe me!” you insisted.

Gerard got up, and went to go look, for himself. His eyes widened in shock, as he stared at the reflection of his teeth. “Oh, god….what the fuck is happening to me?!”

The pieces began to click into place, in your head.

“Gee….,” you said nervously, “I think the guy who attacked you, was a vampire.”

“What?” Gerard laughed nervously, walking back into the living room. “Y/N, you gotta be kidding me…..vampires aren’t real.”

You hadn’t thought they were real, either, until tonight. But, there was no other explanation, that made sense.

“He bit you, and drew your blood,” you pointed out. “And now, all of a sudden, you spontaneously start growing a pair of fangs….”

“Are you saying,” Gerard realized, the color draining from his face, “that I’m turning into a vampire, too?”

You didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence was right in front of your eyes.

“Oh, god,” Gerard realized, a look of horror crossing his face. “Does that mean that the sweetness I smelled when I was hugging you, was your blood?”

“That’s why the tea didn't do anything for your thirst,” you figured out. “You’re blood-thirsty.” You took a frightened step backwards.

“Y/N, I’m not gonna hurt you!” Gerard cried. “Please...you know me better than that.”

“You’re right,” you sighed. “I’m sorry, Gee. Even if you are a vampire, you’re still my friend.”

“I need to get out of here,” Gerard said, heading for the door.

“No, wait!” you said, grabbing his arm. “It’s almost dawn….if you step outside now, the sun will burn you up into ashes.”

“Maybe I should let it!” Gerard cried, trying to jerk away from you. “It’s better to be a pile of dust, then turn into an evil monster, that might harm you!”

“No!” you insisted. “Gee, you can’t just kill yourself!”

“I can’t stay here!” Gerard argued. “What if I go berserk, and bite you? I would never forgive myself!”

“You won’t do it!” you shouted back. “I know you -you’re a good person!”

“Let go of me!” Gerard struggled. “Even if I go home - what if I end up attacking my mom? Or Mikey? I’d rather die, while I still have my humanity, than live life as a monster!”

“There’s no way I’ll let you die!” you screamed, tears welling up in your eyes. You held fast to his hand. Desperate to escape your grip, he shoved you away.

You fell backwards, into the coffee table. You knocked the empty teacup as you hit the ground, and it shattered onto the floor. A shard landed on your hand, nicking your finger.

“Oh, god, Y/N, I’m so sorry!” Gerard gasped. He knelt down, to help you up. “I...I didn’t mean to hurt you…..”

“I’m okay,” you assured him, taking his hand. “I know, it was just an accident.”

You tried to pull your hand away, now that you were on your feet. To your surprise, he held it fast.

“Hey, let go,” you demanded.

Gerard didn’t answer you - he was staring down, at your fingertips. You followed his gaze, and realized that your finger was bleeding.

“....Gerard?” you called his name. “....I said, let go.”

He stared at the red bead on your fingertip, as if he was hypnotized. It dawned on you, that he was trying desperately, to hold himself back.

“.....You want to drink my blood,” you realized.

“No,” Gerard whimpered. “I can’t….that would be wrong…..”

“But, if you’re really a vampire,” you guessed, “don’t you need blood to live? If you don’t drink, you’ll starve.”

“Y/N, I’m so thirsty,” Gerard confessed, a hungry look in his eyes. “It….it hurts….”

“Then, let me help you,” you offered. You extended your bleeding finger to him. “Just….promise to be gentle?”

“I….I can’t do this to you,” Gerard hesitated.

“It’s better for me to give it to you now, of my own free will,” you insisted, “then, to let you lose yourself, and end up attacking an innocent person.”

“A-Are you sure?” Gerard stammered.

“Yes,” you consented. “Go on...before I change my mind.”

“.....Okay,” Gerard decided. He took a deep breath, and knelt down, at your feet. He gently took your hand in his, and brought it to his lips. His tongue softly lapped at the blood that had pooled at the tip of your finger.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck, Y/N, you taste so good.” He licked your fingertip again.

You found yourself blushing.

He took your fingertip into his mouth, and started sucking on it, still making an effort to be tender. You felt the blood drip from the wound, as he began to suck you harder. His lips tightened around your finger.

“....Hey, easy!” you reminded him.

He slowed down, slightly, but the pressure of his sucking continued. His eyes rolled back in his head - the taste of you, seemed to be ecstasy to him. His pace quickened again. He couldn’t help himself.

His fangs grazed your cut, deepening it, and allowing more blood to flow. You didn’t fight it. His lips against your skin, felt so soft, and good. It made you gasp. The only sounds in the room, were his soft, sucking noises, and your own ragged breathing.

“...Y/N?” he gasped, gazing up at you, as he withdrew your finger, from his red mouth. “You look almost like….you were getting off on that.”

“I….I think I was,” you confessed, cheeks aflame. What was wrong with you?

“Is it strange,” he asked, licking his bloodstained lips, his thirst seemingly slaked, “if I say that I was kinda getting off on it, too?”

You kneeled on the floor beside him. After the strangely erotic experience you’d just shared, there was no way that you could go back to being just friends.

You kissed him, tasting your own blood, on his mouth. His body responded to yours, and he pulled you in. His red-dripping tongue, entered your mouth.

“Fuck, Y/N!”, he gasped. “I…..I’ve wanted this for so long. The truth is…..I’ve had a crush on you, since freshman year.”

“You….you have?”

You’d always been attracted to him, but you never thought, you’d be his type.

“I dreamed of this,” he confessed, his eyes full of passion. “But….I never thought it would be this way.”

Nothing about this night, could have possibly been predicted. Your best friend had become an actual vampire - and he’d bitten you. And you’d enjoyed it.

“You can’t leave until the sun goes down, right?” you panted, kissing him again. He moaned against your lips.

“Y-Yeah,” he said. “I’m stuck here, until nightfall.”

“Then, do you want to pass the time, in my bedroom?” you asked seductively.

“Are you saying….there’s something else, you’d like me to suck?” Gerard smirked.

“I would,” you purred.

He took you in his arms again, and looked at you with a hunger that had absolutely nothing to do with your blood. “Then, I’m yours.”

#gerard way x reader #gerard way imagine #vampire gerard #gothtober #this was supposed to be a serious story but I got distracted halfway through by my HUGE HONKING VAMPIRE KINK #I was half asleep while writing this so I'm sorry if it's shit lmao

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screamingatanemptyroom · 4 years

Text

Please Fix the Story pt 2 - Zombie Apocalypse

Hey everyone, here is a continuation to the the fix it fic Reverse harem short story I posted a few days ago!

Part one linked here.

(FYI although it is a different world, the main character as well as Liam are the same people. As stated at the end of the first part, Liam cannot bring along any memories from prior worlds)

Enjoy!

__________________________

GRRRR!

I looked around at my surroundings as I arrived in the new world, trying to catch my bearings.

Broken down buildings, abandoned cars, no people around and zombies about to attack… yep, definitely a post-apocalyptic setting.

I was in the middle of a city road, surrounded on all sides by tall, buildings with shattered windows, exposed beams and hanging wires. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I felt the unsettling atmosphere slowly settle over me. There was a strange silence to the world, the absence of people talking, cars honking, electronics beeping. There was just the wind, my breathing and silence…

GRRR.

…and the growls of the twenty or so zombies slowly approaching me.

I climbed up on an abandoned car, trying to catch my bearings. The movement tore at the four or five wounds that were scattered over my body, forcing out a groan of pain.

Multiple bruises, possible broken ribs, several cuts to arms and legs that still have broken bits of glass in them… it’s like I’ve been in a bar brawl.

It was always frustrating before I could accept the memories of my character and the world setting. I had no idea where I was, how I had gotten here, and more importantly what my mission was.

First things first, I need something to defend myself with.To my pleasant surprise, a quick survey of the area revealed a backpack that looked full and a sword resting on the ground nearby.

I jumped down, biting my lip to hold back a cry of pain at the motion, and quickly pulled the backpack on, unsheathing the sword and looking at it. It looked like something out of a museum, with an ornate gold plated hilt and a long, slightly curved blade. The weight and length were just at the limit of what this current body could bear, and I gave the sword a few practice swings with a grin.

Wonder how my character got a hold of a sword… this body doesn’t seem like one that practices fencing.

Putting my questions out of my mind, I held up my sword, centering my thoughts and bringing my heart into focus, just as I had trained in the past.

Fortunately, one of the previous story worlds I had lived through since the day I woke up without memories had been an assassin novel. The mission had been difficult; protecting the assassin’s guild from destruction after the hero left them behind to chase the heroine on an adventure. The author had regretted destroying his beloved family and guild members, and abandoned the novel. So I was tasked with spending years training weapons skills in the group, finally fighting against the rogue gang that attacked and defending the hero’s family in his place. Completing that mission had taken seven years in total, but on the bright side I had gained a good amount of fighting experience.

I closed my hand over the familiar weight of a sword in my palm. Time to start a new world.At the thought I felt a pang of loneliness and couldn’t help but close my eyes and smile bitterly. How is it that I’ve spent years and years in some of these worlds, and they still didn’t manage to move my heart as much as four weeks spent in a silly high school romance novel world?

“Liam.” I whispered quietly, opening my eyes with a sigh. He had so easily bypassed my defenses, making me care about him to the point that I had hesitated about moving on to the next world.

I have to keep moving forward, it’s my only hope of recovering my memories and going home.

Grrrr.

Thinking about the world and people I had left behind had depressed my mood, but thankfully, an outlet for my emotions had just presented itself on a silver platter.

“Time for some emotional therapy… by killing zombies.” With a smile I put away all stray thoughts and feelings, suppressed any sensation of pain or fear. There was only me, my sword, and the targets to destroy.

I was ready.

Silent, I sprang forward, my sword raised.

My first slash cut off the nearest zombies arm, the sword slicing through the rotten meat and brittle bones with ease.

Thud.

The arm hit the ground with a dull sound. The zombie’s wide, lidless eyes stared down at the detached limb for a few moments, as if confused, before turning back towards me with renewed energy.

GRRR.

Right, undead. Cutting off limbs won’t do much. So let’s try decapitation.

Ducking under the zombie’s remaining arm, I straightened up behind the monster and aimed this time for the neck.

This time both head and body fell to the ground, and became still.

Success!

The rotten blood and flesh dripped onto my hand from the stained blade. Disgusted, I swung the sword back and forth, which only served to scatter the remnants in the air, releasing a horrific smell. I gagged, forcing myself to breathe through my mouth and leaping at the nearest zombie with a snarl.

“This is so gross!”

SLICE! Two zombies fell to the ground on either side of me.

“I hate this world so much!”

Swish! Slice! THUD!

“WHAT IF THERE’S NO RUNNING WATER AND I CAN’T SHOWER?!!!”

A zombie’s growl cut off suddenly as the head flew out into the distance.

“I don’t even know what the mission is, but it already SUCKS!”

Letting out my frustration, I took out the remaining zombies, standing in place in a puddle of goo, my breaths coming in an out with a harsh gasping sound as my out of shape body tried to catch up with the practiced movements I had just put it through. My heart beat rapidly in my chest, breathing caused sharp pains as my broken ribs protested and made their presence known.

I was injured, I was tired, and I was covered in zombie guts.

I want to go home.

But I didn’t know where home was.

Feeling sorry for myself, I sat down on the ground, pulling out my phone and checking the mission.

“This better be a quick one.”

As I pulled up the familiar screen the first thing I noticed was a notification.

**** CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE LEVELED UP!****

“… Pardon?”

As you continue to complete world missions in an efficient and satisfactory manner, you will gain experience and level up the mission system, allowing you additional benefits and assistance.

A small experience bar glowed at the bottom of the notification, with only a sliver of the space filled in and a large number “2” next to it.

“It took TWELVE worlds for me to get to level 2?!” I fought the desire to throw my phone with rage, and continued to read.

With your new level, you have unlocked key character descriptions and world map in the mission app! As well as… other benefits!

“…” I stared at the screen silently. Why do I feel like this thing is just messing with me now?I’m just going to ignore this. It’s too rage inducing.

I clicked through the message and moved on to the mission description.

**** NEW WORLD: WAR OF THE UNDEAD ****

This post-apocalyptic zombie infested story follows Eric, a young man with a military background and the will to fight as he survives the end of the world. By his side is the love of his life Hannah, who holds his hand through the uneasy tides of crumbling social structures, horrifying monsters and evil villains.

Complaints about the story were rampant as the heroine of the novel was deemed “useless” with no discernable skills, often getting kidnapped and wreaking havoc for Eric to clean up after. Unable to balance the two main leads, the author finally gave up and never finished the story, leading to the world’s instability and eventual destruction.

The Author’s wish, and your mission, consists of two parts: First, help the heroine develop into a well-rounded character, able to stand on her own two feet instead of a two dimensional plot device designed to give the hero problems to solve. Second, help humanity establish a good foundation for a new society, leaving the story on a high note with hope for defending against the zombies.

**** DO YOU ACCEPT THIS MISSION?****

I glared at my screen, desperately wishing for a “decline” option.

HELP HUMANITY ESTABLISH A FOUNDATION?!!! HOW LONG IS THAT GOING TO TAKE??

I let out a sad moan, leaning against the broken car and staring up at the dull grey sky with a hopeless gaze.

How long do I have to live in this world and go without a hot shower?

I clicked Accept, my finger stabbing the screen angrily, accomplishing nothing other than a sore fingertip. The memories of my character rushed in, the splitting pain and confusion passing quickly as I accepted them with ease.

“… Well, I guess it could be worse.”

I was a small side character in this story, the spoiled princess of the hero’s group that caused trouble. Upon joining up with their team, she would constantly complain, wishing for luxury and pampering in a world where survival was the only priority. She was tolerated as she had brought with her a large bag of supplies from her family’s mansion, as well as an antique sword that she had taken off the wall as she left, but the goodwill of the hero and his friends quickly ran dry in the face of her spoiled personality and increasingly ridiculous demands.

Finally after several years and multiple fights, her character was kidnapped along with Hannah, the heroine. The hero was forced to choose one to save, and selected his loved one without hesitation. Even at the end her character believed she was too important to be killed, threatening her captors right up until they threw her into a pit of zombies.

It seemed as if I had started this world right after my character had abandoned her first team. They had gotten into a fight with a roaming bandit group, (which explained my current injuries) during which my character had escaped, leaving her teammates behind.

As the story moved on she would then meet up with the hero and his camp, joining and staying alongside them until her untimely demise.

Unfortunately it looks like one of the hero’s companions was a friend of this character, which will make it difficult to explain the large difference in the personality… Rubbing my headthoughtfully as I considered the problem, I finally gave up and sighed. Oh well, the apocalypse changes people, they’ll just have to accept it.

The phone in my hand vibrated once more, with surprise I glanced down at the new alert.

With your level up, you are able to change your character’s name to one of your choosing. All characters’ memories will be adjusted accordingly.

**** Select a character name? ****

I struggled internally with a sudden childish desire to name my character “ass-licker” or something equally stupid, just for the chance to hear everyone have to say it seriously.

But if I was going to spend a few years in this world… that would get old fast.

I slowly typed out a name, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

“Blaire.”

My favorite world so far.A memory I wanted to keep with me.

I wonder what happened to Liam after I left? Before I could consider that thought too closely, a panicked scream broke the silence of the city.

“HELP!”

Following the distressed sounds, I entered a nearby building. In a large open area filled with broken concrete and other debris, a single young man was cornered by three zombies. He held a metal bar in his hands, which he was swinging wildly, barely keeping the monsters at bay. They were slowly crowding him into a corner, but seemed unable to reach any closer. The man continued swinging, all the while a constant stream of half-intelligible cursing and complaints escaping from his mouth.

“Damned traitor…. Make him regret… snap his neck… no that’s too good for him! … boiling… oil… funnel…!”

For all that this is a life threatening situation, why do I get the feeling he seems… like he’s having fun?

Shaking off the wayward thought, I rushed in, sword drawn, striking the zombies down with a few swings. As their heads tumbled to the ground, I kneeled down, using their shredded clothes to carefully clean the blade. As I looked up, I saw the startled face of the man I saved, and felt a moment of panic.

“Liam?”

After staring silently a few moments, I shook my head sadly

It wasn’t him.

He was older, taller, with a slimmer build. His hair, though a similar dark shade, was longer and roughly cut. His face was not the one in my memories, with a slimmer nose and a more pointed chin, but his eyes… they were the exact same shade of dark blue as Liam in the previous world. It was the eyes that had initially caused me to call out, the amused light in them so familiar it was as if he were still right in front of me.

But he wasn’t. I had left that world, and therefore Liam, behind.

“I’m sorry, I mistook you for someone else.”

The man shook his head, his face still pale with shock. “Don’t be sorry! You saved my life!” He walked forward, holding out a trembling hand to shake. “I’m so glad you showed up when you did!”

I took his hand, trying to smile comfortingly. “Happy to help. Are you going to be okay? How’d you end up here all alone?”

“I got separated from my… friends.” He looked at me closely. “You’re such a strong person, I would have died without you! I know I’m weaker than you, and might be a burden but… would you… be willing to let me tag along until we get to camp?”

Poor guy, he still looks terrified.I patted him on the shoulder. “Of course.”

He sighed with relief. “Thank you. You’re my hero!”

I laughed at that. “Just call me Blaire.”

“I’m William! But you can call me Liam.”

“Liam?” I paused, unable to hold back from asking. “I’m sorry… but… have we met before?”

“Hmm… Unfortunately no, I would have definitely remembered you. But perhaps we were fated to meet?” His eyes were clear as he spoke, without any recognition. I frowned.

It can’t be the same person… but he’s just as weird as Liam from the other world, that’s for sure. Unable to shake the sense of familiarity, I sheathed my sword and gestured for him to follow.

“Let’s go.”

“Of course, savior of my life! I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth!”

“… Just to the camp is fine.”

As we stepped out into the street we were immediately confronted by the sight of a large group of tough-looking, scarred men, each carrying multiple weapons. As I tensed up, my hand on my sword hilt, the closest man in the group spotted us, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“BOSS! You’re still alive!”

I glanced back at Liam, who looked mildly annoyed.

“Boss! We killed the traitor and brought back the weapons he stole from you!”

Tossing out a duffel bag, the zipper was open enough to spot multiple guns, grenades and other deadly weapons.

“…”

We all stared at the bag in silence for a few moments.

“Boss?” I finally asked.

He gave an awkward grin. “It’s just a friendly nickname.”

“So I’m guessing you won’t need my protection on the way to the nearest camp.” Feeling mildly disappointed, I stepped away, preparing to leave. Only to pause at Liam’s panicked shout.

“Wait, no!” He stepped closer, waving his arms frantically. “I definitely need your protection! These guys are just joking! I’m actually quite a weakling, and desperately need someone strong like you to look after me.”

“What are you saying boss?” One of the goons interrupted. “You’re probably the most deadly man alive…”

THUD

A stone flew through the air, striking the man between the eyes, and knocking him to the ground.

“Shut. Up.” Liam hissed,

“OUCH! That hurt!”

“Now you tell this beautiful woman who saved my life and has promised to protect me how weak and helpless I am!”

The large muscular men all turned towards me, terror in their eyes.

“Boss is the weakest!”

“Definitely weak!”

“He needs protection!”

“He’d die without you!”

“…” I gave Liam a look. Do you really think I’d buy this?

His response was a shameless smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t drag you down! I’ll cook for you!”

“…”

“Run errands!”

“…”

“Do housework!”

I finally spoke up. “Really? You’d do all that?”

“Yes, I…”

“You can’t expect the Boss to act like a servant!!” One of the men burst out angrily, only to fly back as another stone struck him in the face. Another burly, scarred thug took his place.

“Ahem. What my friend meant to say is, Boss is highly skilled in all of these tasks. He’s great husband material!”

Liam gave the man a thumbs up. “Shark, you’re a smart fellow. You’ve just been promoted to my new right hand man!”

“Thanks Boss!”

“Now take care of things while my life savior and hopefully future wife escorts me back!” He grabbed the duffel bag, offering the contents to me before choosing a small handgun and a grenade for himself and handing the rest to Shark.

The man took the remaining weapons with a terrifying smile. “Definitely!” With a sharp whistle, he and the other men quickly turned around and ran away, dragging the injured man who had protested Liam taking on cleaning duties behind them.

“…” I watched this all with confusion. How did the title of future wife get added on to a simple request to escort him to camp?I almost told him to go away, but hesitated. Faced with his almost puppy-like look of anticipation I swallowed the words I was about to say, helplessly turning back in the direction of the hero’s camp. “Let’s go.”

__________________________

We traveled together for a few days, and I found Liam to be an entertaining companion. At each stop he would light a fire, cook a meal, and arrange the camp. Any offers to help were met with stiff resistance.

“You’re the one doing me the favor.” He answered once with a smile. “I’m just trying to support you!”

“…”

“You know…” He added nervously. “If you think that I’m useful… I’d be happy to work for you full time in exchange for your protection.”

“…”

“For example, if we got married it would be super convenient to bring me along as your support husband.”

I sighed quietly, rubbing my head. “You know we’ve only known each other three days right?”

“The great thing about that concern is that it becomes less relevant the longer we’re together!” He grinned briefly, before putting on a serious expression.

“You asked me once if we met before… and even though I know we haven’t I can’t shake the feeling that I know you. As if there’s a voice shouting from the depths of my soul, telling me that if I lose you I’ll regret it forever, but if I can stay by your side I’ll be the happiest man alive.”

I couldn’t help but shake my head. He reminds me so much of Liam spouting his minion nonsense. But if he’s the same person… how did he follow me here?

“By the way… if you thought that sounded poetic, I would like to add ‘well-spoken’ and ‘artistic’ to the lists of attractive traits that I bring to the table as a potential husband or even just a good lackey.”

“…” Let’s just ignore him and get to camp as soon as possible.

__________________________

We arrived at the camp. Fortunately our path had been fairly clear, we met very few zombies on our way. As we walked up to the camp entrance, and attractive man and woman met us, their expressions somewhat guarded.

“Who are you and why are you here?” The man called out.

I paused a good distance away to avoid seeming to threatening, and studied him closely. He looked to be in his mid twenties, with close-cropped hair and classically handsome features. He had a gun at his hip, and a knife close to his hand, obviously ready to respond to any danger.

Smells like a male lead.

I held up my hands, showing that they were empty of weapons and tried to appear friendly.

“I’m Blaire. I’ve recently split from another roaming group and was hoping to join your camp here.” I carefully put my backpack of supplies on the ground and opened it, showing off the contents. “I’ll share some of my supplies. I’m also decent with a sword, and can add to your fighting force.”

The man looked both me and the bag over carefully. “I’m Eric.” He finally spoke up, his expression slightly more relaxed. He pointed at Liam who still stood next to me. “Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Liam, her lackey!” He announced before I could say something. “Also hopeful suitor.”

“Are you joining as well?”

“Of course!”

I glanced over at him. “What about your gang?”

“What gang?”

“…”

“… Those punks you met earlier? They’ll be fine.”

I sighed and turned back towards the hero of the story. “So what’s your answer?”

He watched us both, obviously thinking carefully. “On a trial basis.” He turned around, carefully protecting the delicate young woman next to him. She was petite, barely coming up to Eric’s shoulder, and had a fair complexion already turning red in the sun. Her eyes were large with an innocent light in them, as she stared at me with a nervous look.

This must be Hannah, our heroine. She definitely seems… easy to kidnap. So helping her become a well-rounded character is mission number one, huh? I followed behind them, my mind racing with plans to help turn her into a force to be reckoned with in this post-apocalyptic wasteland.

This is going to be fun!I rubbed my hands together, a villainous laugh escaping me.

Liam poked my arm, whispering. “Blaire, although I personally think your evil laugh is wonderful, and I could listen to it all day… I feel like I should warn you that you’re scaring the young girl over there.”

I paused, catching Hannah’s terrified expression, and tried to give her a reassuring smile. In response her face turned even more pale under her sunburn, and she hugged Eric tightly as if wanting to escape.

“Was my smile that terrifying?” I leaned over towards Liam and asked quietly.

“I’m the wrong person to ask. I find your strength and ability to intimidate the masses vastly reassuring.”

“Thanks… I guess.”

I followed the lead characters into the camp silently, Liam following close behind me.

It was time to save the story.

And… hopefully find a way to shower.

#writing #fantasy #world hopping #zombies #violence

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ca-8 · 3 years

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Sokka x (Y/n) Scenario (How You Meet: Part 1)

It was cold. No, it was freezing. (Y/n) wanted to cuddle up in a bisons' fur while watching the sunset. But first, she wanted to open her eyes to see where she was. She tried moving her eyelids, then her shoulders, and then the rest of her body; nonetheless, she remained as still as a statue.

Was she sleeping? She didn't remember collapsing on her bed and dreaming about the usual giant lemurs and bison the size of mice. The only thing that occurred to her was yelling at someone and falling into something deep, and the darkness took over from there.

Yelling at someone...pleading them to calm down and think...negotiating with them to at least let her go with them...

Aang!

All of a sudden, a bright light filled (Y/n)'s vision and her body fell from a great height, collided with something cold and hard, and then rolled onto the floor. She heard a high pitched yelp, and her head and back we're elevated by a pair of hands.

Muffled voices played in the back of her head as she tried to regain consciousness. It was when her best friend's voice called out, "(Y/n)!" that made her eyes snap open. Though, instead of seeing a young boy with large blue arrows on his bald head, a brown-skinned boy with suspicious blue eyes was staring down at her.

(Y/n) smiled weakly. "H-Hey, handsome..." she mumbled. The boy shrieked, she was suddenly out of his arms and dropped onto the hard icy floor. "Ow!" she yelled out, sitting up and rubbing her back. Her (e/c)-grey eyes glared at the boy, who was holding his staff in a defensive position.

"Sokka! You can't just drop someone like that!" a female voice scolded loudly. (Y/n) whirled her head to where the voice came from. Not too far from the boy was a girl with similar features as him. But, what (Y/n) immediately noticed was she was holding-

"Aang!" she yelled, scrambling to her feet. Aang was already wide awake and staring at her with a bewildered look. He got out of the other girl's arms and ran over to (Y/n), wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

"Are you okay?" he asked when he pulled away.

"Thanks to you, I am," she said. Aang grinned.

"...Okay, this is nice and all, but WHO ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU GET IN THAT ICEBERG?" the boy yelled, pointing his staff at the two of them.

They both whirled their heads toward him. "Um...I'm not sure," Aang replied, scratching his head. (Y/n) tried to recall what happened before the deep sleep, but she can only hear her voice and Aang's arguing.

All of a sudden, something softly growled behind them. (Y/n)'s heart leaped as she knew who it was.

"Appa!" Aang cheered.

The two kids laughed as they climbed the ice wall. Once they reached the top, a cute sleeping bison was in their view. Aang and (Y/n) floated down to him, landing on Appa's white fur.

"Wake up, buddy!" Aang said. (Y/n) softly pulled his fur, hoping it would cause some sort of reaction, while Aang lifted his eyelid, revealing a large brown pupil.

Aang jumped down to Appa's mouth and lifted his giant lips. Appa groaned and opened his eyes, then hoisted Aang up in the air with his tongue. (Y/n) floated down to the ground. "You're okay!" Aang laughed.

The other kids appeared around the corner of the ice wall. Their eyes widened, and the boy's mouth practically fell to the ground.

"What is that thing?" the boy asked, carefully walking towards them. (Y/n) put her hand on Appa, and he leaned against her touch, groaning affectionately.

"This is Appa, my flying bison," Aang answered.

The boy raised an eyebrow. "Right. And this is Katara, my flying sister," he said, motioning to the girl beside him.

Appa abruptly inhaled a large breath, and then another, and another before a large ball of snot flew out of his nose. It flew over and hit the boy perfectly, covering half of him in snot.

He panicked and frantically tried to wipe it off, bending down and rubbing himself in the snow. "Don't worry, it'll wash out," Aang said casually.

(Y/n) covered her mouth as she giggled, and the boy glared at her. "Hey, do you guys live around here?" she asked, walking up to Aang.

"Don't answer that," the boy said to his sister, pointing the staff at them. "Did you see that crazy bolt of light? They were probably trying to signal the Fire Navy!"

"Oh yeah, I'm sure they're spies for the Fire Navy," Katara said, shoving past him. "You can tell by those evil looks in their eyes."

Aang grinned while (Y/n) blinked innocently. "The paranoid one is my brother, Sokka. You guys are Aang and (Y/n), right?" Katara said.

"Mmh! Nice to meet you guys," (Y/n) said. Her eyes wandered around the area. The vast ocean sprinkled with icebergs gleamed exquisitely. "It's so beautiful here..."

Katara smiled. "We're near the Southern Water Tribe. Where are you guys from?" Sokka watched them carefully but stayed silent as if he wanted to know as well.

"We're from-...ah, ah, AH CHOO!" A huge gust of wind swirled around them as Aang shot himself up in the air. The three of them snapped their heads up to where he was. (Y/n) snickered as he slid across the ice wall and landed where he was before, whereas the water tribe siblings stared at him wide-eyed. "We're from the Southern Air Temple!" Aang finally said, wiping his nose.

"...You just sneezed and flew ten feet in the air," Sokka stated, pointing at the sky.

"Hm, I'd say it was higher than that," (Y/n) guessed. Quickly, Sokka turned his head to her. "Can you do that too?!" he asked loudly.

"Well, I'm not as good as Aang, but I had my fair share of air bending," (Y/n) answered, shrugging.

"Oh! You're airbenders!" Katara concluded, her blue eyes glimmering with excitement.

"Sure are!" Aang said.

"Giant light beams, flying bison, airbenders--I think I got midnight sun madness." Sokka started to walk to the edge of the ice. "I'm going home to where stuff makes sense."

He stopped suddenly, probably realizing that he can't swim in the freezing cold water. "Well, if you guys are stuck, we can give you a lift," Aang said, then jumped onto Appa's head.

"We'd love a ride. Thanks!" Katara replied. She and (Y/n) ran to the bison's side, and (Y/n) flew on top of his back. She held out a hand for Katara, to which she gladly took.

"Oh, no! I am not going on that fluffy snot monster!" her brother declared. Once she was on top, Katara glared down at him. "Are you hoping some other kind of monster will come along and give you a ride home? You know, before you freeze to death."

Sokka opened his mouth to say something, then gave up and approached Appa's side. (Y/n) bent down and held out a hand. He reached for it, then retracted his hand, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Come on, I don't bite," (Y/n) joked. Sokka sighed and grabbed her hand. She hauled him up to the main seat on the large saddle seat and sat behind the siblings once they got settled in.

"Okay, first-time flyers, hold on tight!" Aang announced. (Y/n) and Katara smiled widely with excitement. Sokka, on the other hand, had an irritable face with his arms crossed.

"Appa, yip yip!" Aang gently patted the bison's head with the reins. Appa groaned and growled, then lifted his round tail in the air. He walked to the edge of the ice and thrust himself high up into the air.

The cool air gently pushed against (Y/n)'s face, bringing a soft feeling of nostalgia in her chest. She unexpectedly missed the feeling, despite the fact that it was only yesterday that she was riding her own bison.

But the sentiment didn't last long. Instead of flying through the air like he usually does, Appa fell into the water and started to swim.

"Come on, Appa, yip yip!" Aang urged, and yet Appa refused.

"Wow, that was truly amazing," Sokka remarked in a flat tone.

"Aw, poor thing must be tired," (Y/n) pointed out, rubbing Appa's fur. "Do you guys have any apples in your home? Or maybe some hay?"

The water tribe boy scoffed. "Oh of course we have those things in the freezing south."

Katara glared at her brother. "Don't worry. After he gets some rest, he'll be soaring through the sky in no time," Aang said.

(Y/n) laid down on her stomach beside Sokka and glanced up at him. "You know, it's an amazing experience to ride such majestic animals. Maybe you and I can ride him together sometime?"

Sokka glimpsed down at her for a second, raising an eyebrow. "Pass."

She frowned. 'So cold. He must still think we're working for the Fire Nation,' (Y/n) thought. She looked down at the back of her hands where the blue arrows partnered with her (s/c) skin. 'But how could he? We're obviously airbenders. What do the airbenders have to do with them anyway?'

The night sky was filled with stars when (Y/n) and Aang sat on the empty side of the Air Temple. "Aang? What's wrong?" (Y/n) asked.

The young airbender was tracing his finger along the dirt ground with a gloomy face. "It's nothing," he replied.

"You sure?"

He glanced to the side. (Y/n) scooted closer to him until she was right by his side. "I don't want to force you to say anything, but I'm here if you want to talk about it."

The sound of crickets and distant screeches of Lemurs filled the air for a moment. "I'm the next Avatar," Aang finally said.

(Y/n) eyes fluttered open. She rose up in her sleeping bag and looked around. She was in some sort of tent with Aang still sleeping across the room, then remembered that they arrived at the Southern Water Tribe last night and offered them to rest here. It was cold, but bearable.

She yawned and rubbed her eyes. 'That dream...' Her eyes landed on Aang. 'He's really the Avatar?'

"Oh, you're awake."

(Y/n) turned her head to the entrance and saw Katara peaking in. She smiled. "The village is excited to meet you guys," she said, entering the tent.

"I guess not many airbenders travel to this place, huh?" (Y/n) said jokingly.

"Um, you could say that," Katara replied, fiddling with her thumbs. "So how did you guys get here anyway?"

(Y/n) hesitated for a second before saying, "All I remember was there being a storm, and we just ended up here."

The brunette furrowed her eyebrows, letting out a quiet "Oh..." while looking like she was in deep thought. She sat beside her, eyeing Aang. "So you guys are from the Southern Air Temple?"

"Mm-hm! Even though boys were only allowed to live there, I did too. That's how I met Aang."

Katara's eyes widened. "Really? Why were you able to live there?"

"My father hid me. I think it was because..." (Y/n) stopped. She couldn't remember anything else other than staying inside the house most of the time.

"Hey, if you don't want to talk about it, that's alright." Katara's hand inched over to (Y/n)'s. "I'm actually glad you guys came here."

"AH!"

The girls snapped their heads to Aang when he sprang up in his sleeping bag. "Aang? Are you okay?" (Y/n) asked.

He sat there for a moment, then replied, "I guess."

"I'll wait for you guys outside." Katara got up and exited the room. (Y/n) crawled over to Aang and put a hand on his bare shoulder.

"I remember what happened," he admitted. "I was flying Appa in a storm, and you were on his back, yelling something. I couldn't hear you. Then we landed into the ocean, and I made an iceberg around us." He looked at her, and she recognized guilt in his grey eyes. "I was trying to run away."

(Y/n) embraced him in a hug. "So you remember being the Avatar?" she asked, and felt him nod. "I know you have to face the Fire Lord someday, but I also know you should spend more time being a kid first."

They pulled apart and Aang held a tiny smile. "I hope I do. Come on, let's go meet the village."

After Aang put his clothes back on, he and (Y/n) got out of the tent after grabbing their airbending staffs. The first thing they saw was Katara and a large group of people. (Y/n) scanned the area and saw Sokka sitting beside the entrance, staring down at a boomerang. He glanced up at her, and she waved with a grin. He narrowed his blue eyes and instantly gave his attention back to the boomerang.

"Aang, (Y/n), this is the entire village. Entire village, meet Aang and (Y/n)," Katara introduced. The airbenders bowed as their greeting. The villagers had uneasy expressions; some even pulled the children towards them.

"Uh, why are they all looking at us like that? Did Appa sneeze on me?" Aang asked Katara.

"Well, no one has seen an airbender in one hundred years, much less two of them," an elderly woman from the crowd pointed out. "We all thought they were extinct until my granddaughter and grandson found you."

The airbenders sat there, stunned, and (Y/n) thought her heart had stopped.

"'Extinct'?" Aang echoed.

"Guys, this is my grandmother," Katara said.

"Call me Gran-Gran," the woman advised.

"What is this, a weapon? And why do you have it?" (Y/n) jumped slightly when Sokka suddenly appeared beside her. He grabbed the staff from her and observed it carefully. "You can't even stab anything with this!"

"It's not a weapon," (Y/n) explained, quickly drifting the staff back to her hand. "It's an instrument used for airbending." She pressed the button near the bottom, and the red fan popped out of the sides. Sokka jumped and shielded his face as if it was supposed to be an attack.

"Magic trick! Do it again!" a kid said enthusiastically.

"Not magic, airbending," Aang clarified, doing the same to his staff. "It lets us control the air currents around our gliders and fly."

"You know, last time I checked, humans can't fly!" Sokka argued.

(Y/n) smirked. "Really?"

"Yeah, so how can you possibly-" (Y/n) and Aang held onto the handles of their gliders, and they soared up into the sky just as if they had wings on their backs.

They swirled around the village with its people gazing up at them in awe. The winds gently pushed against (Y/n)'s face, and she felt she was back home.

"Hey Aang!" she called to her friend. "Remember this?"

Once Aang's eyes were on her, she let one hand go off one of the handles. She swung back and forth, and she flipped over on top of the glider, using the winds to boost her up. With the air mostly helping, she was perfectly balanced on the thin back of the glider.

"Oh yeah!" he said, then proceeded to do the same.

(Y/n) glanced down at the ground and saw that she was almost over Sokka. He, as the rest of the village, was bewildered. An idea popped in her mind, and dove off the glider and plummeted towards him.

"AH!" Sokka shouted, raising his arms to shield his face. The very last second before (Y/n) could touch him, her glider swooped down below her, and she dashed right past his head.

"Hey! You almost hit me!" Sokka called, and his little sister only laughed.

"But I didn't, did I?" (Y/n) called back. She couldn't hear him, but she knew he was growling through his visibly clenched teeth.

Aang cracked up, but his joy didn't last long when he plowed into a tall snow tower. (Y/n) snickered and watched as he tried to get his head out of the side. When he succeeded, he tumbled down to the ground with a pile of snow following him, covering him once he landed.

"My watchtower!" Sokka said. He ran towards his precious snow building while Katara went to Aang.

"That was amazing!" she said, helping him up.

(Y/n) landed beside them and saw Sokka get dumped with another pile of snow while trying to observe the damage. She ran up to him and held out a hand for him to grab. He stared at it for a moment before frowning and getting up on his own.

"Great. You two are airbenders, Katara's a waterbender. Together, you can waste time all day long," he said.

The airbender perked up. "You're a waterbender?" she and Aang asked at the same time.

"Well, sort of. Not yet," Katara answered.

"All right. No more playing. Come on, Katara, you have chores," Gran-Gran said, approaching them. They walked off, leaving Aang and (Y/n) on their own. She looked over her shoulder and saw Sokka in the distance.

"Hey, I'm gonna go catch up with Sokka," she said.

"Alright," Aang replied, and the two departed.

"Hey! Wait up!" (Y/n) called, jogging up to the Water Tribe boy.

Sokka turned around with narrowed eyes. "Um, hi?" he said.

"Did you need help rebuilding your..." She trailed off, forgetting about what Aang had accidentally destroyed.

"Watchtower," Sokka finished, continuing to walk to the tower. "And no, I can do it on my own, thank you."

"Are you sure? It looks pretty high up."

"I can handle it."

(Y/n)'s smile faltered. "Oh, okay. Hey, how did you make that anyway? It looks really cool!"

Sokka whirled around. "Why are you acting so nice? Are you trying to get information out of me? Because it won't work!"

(Y/n) flinched. "'Get information'? You don't mean for the Fire Nation, do you? Last time I checked, Fire Nation soldiers don't have these." She held up her hands to show him her blue arrows.

He furrowed his eyebrows again. "That could be paint!"

"Alright, try to take them off." (Y/n) held out her hands.

Sokka's eyes widened, and he stood there for a moment before putting on a stern expression. "Fine!"

He marched up to her and grabbed her hand with his cold, snowflake-covered glove. First, he tried furiously rubbing the arrow off, which left a red mark on her skin. When that obviously didn't work, he raised an eyebrow and spat on her hand. (Y/n)'s face crinkled with disgust but held her ground. He rubbed her hand harder than before, but it refused to come off.

Sokka growled, and she sneered. "You're just lucky it's strong paint!" he yelled, then stomped off.

"Right. Also, if we're working for the Fire Nation, how do you explain our airbending? Or Appa?" she questioned, following him.

#atla sokka #x reader #fanfiction #cartoons #wattpad #i kinda made this a long time ago

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maaaddiexo · 3 years

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The Within Series | Legolas Greenleaf

Book 1: The Devil Within - 1.5

Mainlist | Serieslist

Nyx of Tyndall does not know love or kindness. Cursed at a young age by a jealous witch, Nyx has lived a life of solitude and death.

Until Gandalf the Grey requests her presence and uncontrollable skill in assisting a young Hobbit across Middle-Earth with nine others to destroy a ring so powerful all fall victim to its evil.

Not only must Nyx face Orcs, demons, and creatures she’s never seen before, but also the devil inside. Controlling the devil is the key to finding freedom in a spell that can’t be broken. But it will not be so easy for Nyx when every obstacle she faces pushes her to an edge she cannot return from.

Chapter Five

The next day was just as overcast but the air a little warmer. They made good time over the flatter and dryer lands. The ground beneath them didn’t crumble or shift and they came across no marshes. Nyx led the horse for a while at the back while Strider led the group like usual. They stopped at an abandoned and overgrown watchtower, agreeing to settle in for the night there, finding comfort in knowing they had their backs protected.

Once their sleeping rolls were set up and the horse had been tied at the edge of the woods, Strider began to unpack his things. He revealed four swords. “These are for you. I’m going to look around. Stay here with Nyx.”

Strider still had not returned when Frodo decided to go to bed.

“Go to sleep, Miss Nyx,” Sam said. “We’ll stay awake while you two sleep.”

Nyx didn’t like the idea of three innocent Hobbits taking watch, but she was more than tired and couldn’t help but agree. She lay next to Frodo, her hand resting over the handle of her scythe, and fell asleep almost instantly. When she woke up a few hours later, Frodo was screaming.

“Put it out, you fools!” The three boys had lit a fire, letting their hunger get the best of them. Nyx stood up, looking around but Strider still had not returned. She began to worry.

Something screeched in the distance.

“Grab your swords,” Nyx instructed urgently. “They found us.”

“But we don’t even know how to use them!” Pippin argued.

Nyx moved to the edge of the watchtower. At the bottom of the watchtower, figures moved through the thick fog. “You’re about to. Did you put the Ring on, Frodo?”

“No.”

“Good. Don’t. And don’t give it to them either. They will deliver it directly to Sauron.”

Frodo unsheathed his sword and they climbed to the very top of the watchtower. In a circle they stood, waiting, until the first one came from the east. The temperature seemed to drop 10 degrees when it approached, and Nyx felt her blood run cold. Could these creatures even die?

Eight more came from the shadows and with every step they took, thunder rumbled in the air. They held their swords against their chests, the sharp tips raised towards the sky as they approached together and, slowly, the group of five retreated. Sam rashly jumped forward.

“Back, you devils!” His sword clashed against a Ringwraith’s twice before he was tossed aside. Merry and Pippin moved to be the next line of defense, but they too were tossed aside like they weighed nothing. Nyx and Frodo gasped in fear and surprise at their strength and as they continued to back up, Nyx felt it deep in her bones.

Anger.

That dreaded, cursed anger.

Most of the time, Nyx tried to fight it. Ignore it. For when she got angry, people died. But, this time, she knew she needed it. She needed the strength it brought her. “Frodo,” she said, trying to relax her muscles. Stay in control just enough. “Whatever you do, do not get in my way.”

“What?”

Nyx lunged forward and pushed back two of the Ringwraiths, dodging their swings and jabs. One hit her in the side with his elbow, but Nyx made sure to hit him twice as hard with her boot. When she spun to see how Frodo was faring, she caught a glimpse of orange. Nyx wasn’t surprised. For when she got angry, she had the nasty habit of catching fire.

It was why they called her the Dragon.

The fire lit inside her as well, fueling her rage as she swung her scythe time after time at the Ringwraiths. And with every swing, she felt herself lose to the devil within her. She couldn’t tell what she was angry about. Perhaps it was the treatment of such innocent boys who had never left home before. Or maybe it was the fact that she could never get some God damned peace.

The rest of the Ringwraiths were advancing on Frodo, who had dropped his sword and was backing away on his hands and bum. “Frodo!” she screamed only to be thrown aside. She rolled until she hit what was left of a wall. She shook her head and stood up on wobbly legs, yelling when she saw Frodo pull out the Ring. Something in her shook free from the evil.

“Don’t, Frodo! It makes them stronger!”

Frodo didn’t hear Nyx’s words. All he could hear was the Ring whispering at him, tempting him to put it on. And he did. Nyx cried out as he put the Ring on and disappeared. The Ring would not save him from the Nazgûl. No. But it would make them stronger.

Something came at Nyx from behind and she swung her scythe, hitting the flat side of Strider’s sword. She growled and pushed harder against Strider, but her improved strength was still no match for Strider’s. In the back of her mind, she thought it odd.

The Ranger ground his teeth together for he knew what lurked within her. “Fight it, Nyx.”

Nyx growled again. “You’re just like the rest of them. You’ll kill me when I’m not looking. You’ll trade my life for yours.”

“Like you haven’t done that all your life.”

Nyx faltered, the words ringing painfully true. Strider took advantage of Nyx’s slip and slammed the handle of his sword against the side of her head. Nyx stumbled to the ground, dropping her scythe with a resounding clatter as the evil’s grip on her mind slipped as well. She saw darkness for only a moment before her eyes fluttered open. She looked up and Strider looked down cautiously.

“Are you back to your normal self, Miss Nyx>”

Nervously, she nodded, grabbing her weapon. “I think so.”

“Good.” Strider reached down to help Nyx up, but she pulled away. She still did not entirely trust herself. She stood up by herself.

“Frodo put on the Ring,” she said simply. Timidly.

There was a scream of pain and the two humans turned to see a Ringwraith pull their sword from a body they could not see. Strider grabbed a loose thick stick with dried leaves and touched it to the bottom of Nyx’s cloak that was still on fire. He swung it at the Ringwraiths and they screeched as the light combated their darkness. The two humans spared a glance at each other and lit two more branches on Nyx’s cloak before running for the Ringwraiths.

From the corner of her eye, Nyx saw Frodo reappear, screaming in agony. But she couldn’t reach him. She waved the burning branch in her, chasing away the Nazgûl. Fire touched the black cloak of one and it screeched, disappearing off the edge of the watchtower. Somehow, Nyx knew it would not be the last time she saw it. Strider struck the last one in the face with his branch and it disappeared with its brethren, its screeches echoing in the night.

“Strider! Nyx!”

The two dropped their weapons and rushed to the Hobbits. Frodo was still writhing in pain.

“Can you help him?”

Strider picked up the discarded blade, examining it. “He’s been stabbed by a Morgul blade.” The blade turned to ash in his hands and he dropped it in disgust, moving to pick up Frodo. “This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine.”

“Nyx?” Sam pleaded. Nyx only shook her head sadly.

“Strider is right. The Elves are the only people who can save Frodo.”

Part 1.6 ➺

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zachsgamejournal · 3 years

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PLAYING: Breath of Fire IV

I think we’re closing in on the end. But in good ole BoF fashion, the last leg is taking the longest. Also, Nina is totally the main character of this game.

NINA

I’ve only ever beaten BoF 3, 4, and 5--though I’ve played 1 & 2. It’s a constant that Ryu is the main character, and that Ryu is the player. Ryu is never (to rarely) given dialog because the player is meant to imagine the voice of Ryu. And while this definitely works for BoF 3 and 5, Nina is clearly the main character in 4.

1. We Start the Game as Nina

In both BoF 3 and 5, we start the game as Ryu, and that’s basically where we stay for the whole adventure (occasionally controlling other characters). BoF 4 has us start with Nina. It’s a simple distinction, but sets up my next point.

2. Nina Makes All the Decisions

My screenwriting professor said the main character makes the decisions that drive the story. In this sense, Ryu is extremely passive. He’s mostly just along for the ride. It’s Nina that offers to help him, Nina that decides he should tag along, and it’s Nina’s quest he joins. Later, Nina decides to rescue Cray. Nina goes to her father for help. Nina asks the gods for assistance. Nina insists they save Ryu. Nina encourages Dies not to abandon Ershin. Nina insists on the helping that furry...thing. All the while, Ryu is just like, “...sure.”

I vaguely know how the game will end, so we’ll see if this all holds up.

3. It’s Nina’s Quest

The game starts with Nina and Cray on a mission to find/rescue her sister. While Ryu is integral to the plot, he doesn’t have a lot of skin in the game. Nina is also royalty, and this game has some Games of Thronesian politics going on. While Ryu’s actions carry little weight beyond the act itself, everything Nina does has the ability to affect policy and international relationships. We see this when the Empire pressures the Alliance to cede territory post Nina’s rescue op failure.

Also, Nina just told Ryu that she loved Cray. Ryu isn’t even the love interest in this game.

I’m actually really happy that Nina is the star. Female characters aren’t normally given the respect they deserve. Maybe instead of Breath of Fire, they should have called this “Wings of Destiny”...cause Nina has wings.

Back to the Plot

So, Ryu went super-Dragon and killed some imperials. The gods have offered to help Ryu, (as long as he plays hide and seek first), and Fou-Lu has escaped the village in which he had started to feel at home.

Nina and the team discuss things and decide that if it’s Ryu’s destiny to meet up Fou-Lu, they might as well confront him proactively. They seem to be under the impression that the empire is using Fou-Lu gain power (if they only knew).

Ursala is the Imperial captain that captured us, but now she’s our captive. The team asks her to help them get into the Empire. She’s confused. It was her mission to bring the dragon to the Empire, so this kind of works out...She agrees and is now a playable party member.

I like her.

Heading back to the warp gate, we learn that it’s broken because of our previous activities (and because we were attacked by Captain Jackass). Ursala tries to make us feel bad, but she works for an evil Empire--so jog-on. We have to head north and need a sandflier but don’t have the cash. This is comical, cause I put in a cheat for infinite Zenny way back when...

We’re supposed to ask a merchant sandflier for help, but we’re too late. Ursala immediately jumps to action and without a word, Scias follows her lead. They take the merchant ship like a band of pirates and it turns out to be a French-accented froggy friend from before that sexually harassed Nina, Marlok. He tries to make use feel guilty, which works on Nina and Cray--but the rest of us know he’s a POS. He offers us a bond to buy a ship, expecting that we’ll do great things and thus able to cash in on our success.

We get to a checkpoint, but it’s blocked. Ursala wants to fight the guards, but Nina is against it. We do the non-violent solution of trampolining over the wall. We get to a ship yard...I only now realized in the game that the oceans aren’t water--but mud. weird...where’s all the water? So the only seas are up north.

The captain doesn’t want us on without the blessing of the sea god. We got to coastal cave and find the Sea Dragon there...I think. We get his blessing and are good to go. The captain now doesn’t want women on board. The women insist that they are tough and have been through a lot. The muscle the dude we keep fighting shows up, and it’s implied that his defeat would prove we’re tough. Ursala shoots him and falls off the mass of the ship. So a new test of courage is needed. Ursala and Nina must stay within the hull of the ship over night with ghosts and bugs. They succeed.

As we travel across the sea, we fight muscle dude again (he was much stronger this time). And then the wind stops. The sailors think this area is haunted, maybe by a god. We go check it out. The dungeon is interesting, but frustrating. You have to walk across planks to get to the other side, but the planks break and drop you down into the hull. There’s a light over your head to warn you when you’re about to fall, but I still fell a lot. In the hull, as you walk, skulls that are spread about rattle and vibrate: it’s eerie and entertaining. Eventually we find a rock creature that thinks of itself as a god, but it’s just a rock powered by god-power. So we kill it.

No remorse.

The wind returns and we make it across the sea. After traveling through a jungle, we meet a furry thing. I feed it some food and it seems happy...I think. At the end of the jungle we find a treehouse and are attacked by more furries. The previously furry comes to our defense and we meet Beyd. He has married one of the furries and maybe these are his children? Cray had my reaction and was like, “Well...uh, anyway--how do we get to the empire?”

One of the furries gets sick and Nina vows to save it (cause she’s the main character!). This brings us to an interesting, but not super fun mini game. We get to sail the boat, but you have limited supplies. Every second you’re on the seas, the supplies get used, but they’re used faster if you row. Rowing is necessary because the wind doesn’t always blog in the direction you need. So you have to decide whether to burn supplies by rowing, or wait for the wind to change directions. There’s places to find and treasure to discover. It is, kinda fun...

While we’re out here collecting medicine on the high seas, I also find the sea god: SCORE!

We save the furry and are guided to some islands that are available to walk across when the tide is low. So we venture a cross some tropical keys. It’s pretty. The group gets tired and Nina insists on taking a break: cause she’s the main character. After our rest, the tide has risen and the group is trapped. Cray is pissed and Nina feels responsible.

This is an interesting part of the game cause the group has to survive on an island and reflect on their mission. Ursala warns it could be months or years before the tide recedes. Chill Ursala. The group explores the island and finds both water and and great fishing spot. We’re gonna be fine. Just delayed.

Scias likes the island, as he just sleeps all day. After a while, Cray chills out and apologizes for his temper. While Ryu is casting a line, Nina reveals that she’s in love with Cray, causing Ryu to trip. Nina reflects on her feelings, unsure if they’re true and doubtful that Cray feels the same.

The tide recedes and the team escapes. We come to a riverlands that requires some log riding and log dodging. It’s cute, but I want to get out of here...

Fou-Lu, after escaping the village, receives a direct hit from the hex canon. They apparently used the friendly lady that help Fou-Lu as a “sacrifice” to power the canon. EVIL! Fou-Lu survives and arrives at the capital. He meets statue guardian that recognizes him as the first emperor. Fou-Lu orders the guardian to destroy the imperial city. Fou-Lu is pissed, and just doesn’t seem to think humans are worth it...

As the guardian destroys the city, Fou-Lu cleans up loose ends, finally killing the general that ambushed him on the night of his awakening, and then killing the current emperor. The Emperor first tries to act subservient to Fou-Lu, but then stabs him with the “dragon slayer” sword. It doesn’t work and Fou-Lu laughs in his face.

Similar to Breath of Fire 3, the game has reached a point where it doesn’t have more story to tell, but wants to add hours. So there’s tons of little quests and obstacles that have little to do with the overall plot. It’s sad, because the minigames and mini-nations they’ve created are really interesting.

I tried to think back to how Final Fantasy 7 handled this. I think, for the most part, the game doesn’t make its endgame clear until much later. Most of the game is, “What should we do now?” So I don’t feel there’s as much a “rush” to get to the end. Also, much of the game is about tracking Sephiroth, so you’re really looking for clues as you find obstacles, vs having an end destination and just running into a million reasons why you can’t get to it. You feel out of control and inconvenienced. But these obstacles would make really interesting and fun side quests. Having them as options would absolutely make them more interesting.

Another thing that Final Fantasy 7 really succeeds at is making each new area a new piece of the puzzle. You’re always learning history about the world or a character. So while it might be a brief obstacle, it’s also an interesting deeper dive into the world. Breath of Fire’s diversions don’t feel as enlightening.

Still, BoF4′s diversions still feel like progress cause we inch closer to the goal...it’s just that we’re not getting much character or world development in the process.

Combat

I do prefer the combat over BoF3 (and many RPGs). I like that the other characters are always on-call in the battle, and it’s easy to switch out (more so than Final Fantasy X -- how I remember it anyway). I’ve done zero grinding, and I’m pretty proud that I’ve survived so far. After crossing the sea, it seemed like the enemies were getting ahead of me, but I got better at using the spell combos (which are cool!). So surviving a few battles usually meant getting a few levels up. When I first played the game, i was cool with grinding, but I’m glad I don’t have to now. The only thing that is cheating: I gave myself 99999+ zenny. So I’m able to stock up on healing supplies. Though it helps, I’m sure a few hours of grinding would have me being just as well stock on healing supplies.

Is it better than Breath of Fire 3?

I’m a little torn. Breath of Fire 4 is “epic”. There are multiple nations that have a strong sense of culture and history. The mythology around the dragons is of the galactic scale. World War is in the balance and my party includes two members of royalty and two semi-gods. The world feels huge even if the story is pretty linear.

In contrast, Breath of Fire 3 had three nations--that I could tell: Wyndia, Eastern Kingdom, and across the sea. Strangely, Wyndia had gangster cities, gangster markets, and amoral lab that was accidentally making mutants. While eastern kingdom seemed pretty chill and peaceful--but lacked a ruling entity. Hmmm...

Where Breath of Fire 3 feels “better” is that it feels more personal. The story starts small: a lost dragon-boy found my starving thieves. We live in a small town and solve small-town issues. This slowly grows to include local gangsters, a kingdom, and a dragon holocaust before we battle God. I like Breath of Fire 4′s characters, but I feel like I have a stronger bond with BoF3′s. Also, I felt like BoF3 tried to explore the grey area: killing monsters that had feelings. I felt emotionally challenged in the different scenarios. Whereas, BoF4 is always: “We’re the good guys, and we do the good things!”

#Zach's Game Journal #PLAYING #Breath of Fire 4 #PlayStation #PS1 #DuckStation #Video Games #Nina is the Hero #Of Gods and Dragons #JRPG

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mcrninqstar · 3 years

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discord: it’s you. it’s always been you.

SUMMARY: Lucifer accidently sends Maze the wrong text leading her to believe her best friend is dead. He goes to her to clarify and they end up revealing more to each other than they anticipated. TRIGGERS: Death Mentions, Daddy Issues, Mommy Issues WRITTEN WITH: @mazikeenofmurders

MAZIKEEN: She'd been in Hell, torturing Will when she got the update from Lucifer. Charlie's dead now. She'd seen a lot of people die in her lifetime. Most of the time it didn't bother her, but Charlie was her best friend. It was heartbreaking. Her chest felt restricted, and her eyes filled with tears. She wiped them away before anyone could see them. If Charlie had ended up in Hell, Maze should've been told, but no one came while she let out her anger on Will, which meant that she'd gone to heaven and that Maze wouldn't be able to see her again. She let Belphegor continue torturing Will on their own while she went back to her own place in Hell. She didn't tell Belphegor the news yet. They'd need to figure out how to break that down to them. They were already upset enough that she'd been hurt. Maze had diverted their sadness to anger, but handling her death would be harder. Maze remained stoic until she got home and saw a picture of Charlie, Lucifer, and herself in a frame on one of the walls. She picked it up and broke down into tears, clutching it to her chest as she laid down on her bed. Now she'd really never get Charlie to sleep with her and Lucifer. That made her cry more.

LUCIFER: "Well, that was bloody awful," Lucifer lamented as he appeared in Maze's home. He needed someone to complain to about this. He'd already tried calling Linda a couple times but she declined the calls on account that it was close to 2am now. "Maze?" he called out to her. She wasn't in the living room, but he could feel her presence about. He figured she must've gone to bed. Surely she wouldn't mind being woken up to some good news. Lucifer helped himself to the bar, pouring two glasses of champagne and placing them on a tray. He carried them into Maze's room like some sort of fancy butler. He expected to find her maybe in some sexy little number or maybe nothing at all. But what he hadn't expected was to find her crying. "Mazikeen..." he lowered the tray onto the nightstand beside her. "Why are you crying? I thought you'd be over the moon, honestly..." Becoming Death was one hell of a promotion, especially for a human reaper. Charlie had essentially ascended to an angelic form of being. It was unheard of for humans to do that. It was historic and spicy and no doubt causing Uriel to panic a little. Lucifer very much liked that idea. But Maze...he'd never seen her like this.

MAZIKEEN: She heard it distantly when someone came into her home. Sometimes the other demons tried to sneak into her place to fight her when she was off guard. She was never really off guard, but she could recognize Lucifer's presence. Archangels like him radiated power that was unmistakable, especially him. She didn't move when he called her name. She didn't want him to see her crying like this, but she couldn't stop. It hurt too much. Charlie had been too important to her. "I'm not crying," she insisted, even as her voice cracked and tears spilled down her face. The picture frame she'd been clutching left imprints on her arms as she sat up. She sniffled as she wiped at her face, but more tears kept coming. She looked at Lucifer with confusion. "Why would I be over the moon about this?" she asked. Why was he? What was good about any of this? "She's gone, Lucifer." She took in a breath trying to push back the tears, but it just distorted her face. Admitting that she was gone was hard. It was possibly one of the hardest things she ever had to do, and she dealt with Cuphegor all the time.

LUCIFER: "Right, of course," he nodded and sat down at her bed side. She was too crying but he wasn't going to call her out on it. He simply pulled out the handkerchief from his pocket square and held it out to her. He had no idea what brought this on. Maze normally loved when he sent people out to be tortured by her specifically. William especially had been a thorn at her side. What he'd done now warranted permanent death so naturally he figured Maze would be happy about that but she wasn't. She was crying about someone being gone. It didn't take long to realize she was talking about Charlie. "She's not gone," he replied, placing his hands on either side of her and rubbing down the length of her arms in a reassuring manner. "I mean, I don't really know where she's at right now specifically. She's kind of hiccupping in and out of afterlives and I'm not allowed entry into some of them because of politics. But she's very much alive...unalive...sort of dead?" he sighed trying to figure out how to explain it. "She's Death now." He didn't see what was so bad about that. Maybe it was because Maze couldn't hug her? "I mean, sure, it would be ill advised to touch her at the moment but you'll be able to give her a hug when she reigns her powers in a bit. Raphael said they'd help."

MAZIKEEN: She took the handkerchief he offered her and wiped the tears off her face, still not admitting that they were tears, not that he was insisting they were or anything. He hadn't argued her lie, and she appreciated it. She leaned against him as he rubbed her arms. She thought he was giving her some spiel about how their afterlives didn't really mean they were gone or something. That wouldn't have made a difference to Mazikeen if she couldn't see Charlie herself, but that wasn't what he was talking about. She wasn't sure what he was talking about actually. "What do you mean she's alive? You texted me and told me she was dead." Her voice was raising angrily. She'd been so upset. "You made me think my best friend died!" She hit him in the chest as she spoke. "I was crying because I thought I lost her!" She spoke with a mixture of shouting and sobbing.

LUCIFER: "What do you mean? No I didn't," he defended as she shouted that he sent her a text saying Charlie was dead. He pulled out his phone to try to get a look at what he said but she started smacking him. He swatted her away briefly to take a peak and sure enough...he grimaced. Bloody autocorrect. "That was meant to say she's Death, not she's dead," he corrected, not that it mattered in hindsight. "I wouldn't break that kind of news to you over a text message, Maze," he tried to assure her calmly. "That's Levi levels of avoidance. I'd send a carrier pigeon at least." Perhaps it wasn't the best time for jokes but that was really the only way he knew how to work through the kind of day he had. It wasn't exactly easy having to run a death scythe into an old friend and hope for the best.

MAZIKEEN: "Yes, you did!" she snapped. She'd read over the text several times just to make sure she'd read it right because that news was so serious. It didn't make a difference to her now that it was a typo. If anything, she was more furious that he hadn't noticed the typo before he'd sent it, or even that he didn't see that it had changed once he had sent it. He could've corrected it immediately and saved her the heartbreak of thinking she'd lost her friend. "A carrier pigeon?!" she repeated angrily, not finding his jokes as funny as he did in the moment when she was still reeling from thinking her friend had died. She started hitting him. "You're so stupid! I can't believe I fell in love with you, you asshole! Who jokes about that?!"

LUCIFER: "In my defense a lot was going on," he lamented, still wanting to complain about the situation. "I wasn't exactly sipping Bacardi with Raphael up there." He might've put too much faith in his phone to get the message across. "I knew you were worried about Charlie's condition and I wanted to get the news to her ASAP. I had a million and one things I needed to do to secure the veil after everything happened and I wouldn't have had time to come down to hell until well...now. I didn't think it was fair for you to wait that long." He was trying to ease her nerves but thanks to his phone he'd done the opposite. He grimaced as soon as the pigeon joke left his lips and braced himself for another round of smacking. It didn't hurt and he let her carry on. It was best to just let Maze air out her frustrations rather than let them fester. He expected her to insult him. That was par for the course. But he hadn't expected her to say the other thing. He sat up a little straighter and held her firmly so that she would stop hitting him and look at him instead. "You don't...you can't...you don't mean that, do you?" he asked her in all seriousness.

MAZIKEEN: Realistically, she couldn't blame him too much for what had happened. All in all, it was a simple mistake, and anger was the main way she knew to release her emotions. She knew Lucifer knew that, and there were ways she could make it up to him later when she wasn't emotional. She sighed. "I guess I do appreciate you trying to tell me as soon as possible, even if you did fuck it up." She really did appreciate that, considering how worried she'd been about Charlie. "So I really can't hug her though?" She was one of the people Maze actually liked to hug. Lucifer was also one of them, but him grabbing her took her by surprise. He probably just was getting annoyed with her constantly hitting him, but most of her anger had gotten out now. She sighed. "You are kinda an asshole sometimes, but I like it most of the time."

LUCIFER: "Well, someone will suffer for the ill conceived attempts of autocorrect," he assured her. It wasn't going to be him, but someone would. Surely there was probably a demon to blame for this. "Probably Sam," he offered, hoping that would lift her spirits some with another soul to torture. "Charlie managed to separate him and his evil twin. She dragged the parasitic one here. Not sure which kingdom but when we find him, he's all yours," he replied, still running his hand up and down her arm in a comforting gesture. "No, I'm afraid you can't hug her for now. She's deadly to everything except the Archangels now." Although Charlie was young by comparison, her ranking was up there with Cupid now that she was Death. Love and Death were fundamental forces in the balance of things. "But I'll give her extra hugs on your behalf," he replied. He didn't mind it one bit. Having to stab Charlie wasn't exactly pleasant and he wanted to ensure she was okay every step of the way. His features softened and his grip lightened when she remarked he was an asshole sometimes, but she enjoyed that about him. "That's not what I meant...I meant the other thing you said. The one about falling in love with me..." he clarified so that neither of them could be mistaken this time. "You don't mean that, do you?"

MAZIKEEN: "As they should." She nodded in agreement. She smiled brightly when Lucifer suggested that it would probably be Sam. She'd always wanted to torture him. "Is it my birthday again already?" she asked jokingly. She was a little disappointed that it wasn't both Sams that ended up in Hell, but she guessed that it was good for Charlie's happiness or something. "That's pretty hot," she remarked with a smirk. "It makes me want to try it anyway. I'll tell you what it feels like." She grinned. Lucifer couldn't have all the fun in being the only one of them to be able to hug Charlie. Her smile faltered when he clarified what he'd heard her say. "Ah," so she had actually said that then? She'd thought that part was just in her head, but it was hard to keep a cap on her thoughts when she was that upset. Her chest clenched up. She was trying to gauge his reaction to that before she said anything else, but it was hard to tell how he was feeling about it. The most she could tell was that he was uncertain, but she couldn't decipher if that uncertainty came from disgust at the idea, if he wanted it like she did, if his trauma from the curse just had him scared to trust it, or a combination of a few of those. She sat up straighter, holding herself higher to make sure this confession didn't make her look weaker in any way. If he didn't like it then fuck him anyways. "I do. I've been in love with you for a while now." She let out a breath of air. That was a weird thing she never really thought she'd let out, but it was out there now. She watched Lucifer carefully for his reaction, prepared to backtrack or defend herself if she needed to.

LUCIFER: He was glad to see her smile after the particularly awful news she thought he'd delivered. He knew he'd be paying for that for the next few weeks but for now at least the storm had passed and she knew Charlie was safe. "If your birthday occurred anytime that man nearly dies, you'd be aging at twice the rate," he pointed out. He really did feel for the Winchester's Guardian. That angel had to be doing overtime on most days. "Wear protection," he teased. "Safe hugging to prevent untimely death." Maze wore enough latex that it really shouldn't be a problem. Charlie was careful too. Lucifer had instructed her to go to Val in the meantime for pointers and perhaps a pair of sturdier gloves.

He swallowed back a bit of initial panic when she confirmed that he'd heard her correctly. His automatic thoughts and fears were that his curse was back. Why else would anyone love him? He projected outward confidence because he had to. It was expected of him as King of Hell to know what to do, or at least to look like he knew what he was doing. Maze knew better than most Lucifer had no idea what he was doing. He was a mess just trying his best. Truthfully, the curses had set him back quite a bit. He still struggled, wondering if any of the relationships and connections he'd made in his life were real. Chloe had left him long before the curse was broken and he couldn't blame her. But Maze stuck around. She'd been there before he discovered his curse and she was still there afterward. She'd been there through all of his milestone and all the trials life could've thrown his way. He couldn't have imagined doing any of this without her. In fact, he was certain he couldn't have done it without her. The duties of keeping Hell running and keeping his siblings both happy and alive stretched him thin. He needed a partner and Maze was the best one he could've ever asked for.

If she really did love him, then this was a blessing because as much as the feeling scared him, he loved her too. He hadn't realized how much she did for him until she'd disappeared to the other timeline. He'd been a mess then and so had hell. Since then, he tried to show her that he appreciated her more and more. He tried to do what he could to spend time with her because he didn't know how much time they had left. He realized some time ago if the void was going to take over, she'd be the person he'd want to be with in the end. He thought those feelings were just friendship, but he knew deep down it went deeper than that.

"Okay...." he took a deep breath. "Okay..." he ran his hands up and down her arms as a soothing gesture. "Mazikeen, you are one of the most important people to me. You're the first person I check in with in the mornings and the last one I see before I go to bed. You're..." You're the one person I can see myself spending an eternity with. Just say it Lucifer. Come on. "The last time I felt like this about someone, it turned out to not be real. How do we know any of this is real?" he questioned. It was an unfair question to place on her but he wanted to be upfront with his fears. He'd known Chloe for all of 4 years when she left. And her leaving left a hole in his belief in love. He'd known Maze for much longer. If this turned out to be a curse and if she left too...he wasn't sure where that would leave either of them.

MAZIKEEN: She laughed a little at his comment about Sam's deaths. "Even better. Maybe I can catch up to you, old man." It wasn't like they really aged anyways. Birthdays were an arbitrary thing they made up just for an excuse to celebrate. They were all too old to actually keep up with their ages, and even if they did, it just made them look so much better despite their ages. "Don't worry. My strap-on has a condom and everything." She grinned. She'd be careful enough, but the thought that her best friend could kill her with just a single touch was exciting and she wanted to see what it felt like. Hopefully, she wouldn't kill herself completely in the process. She wasn't actually suicidal like some people.

Her chest ached seeing that look on his face. As a demon, she considered it a skill of hers that she could recognize the fear in her victims, but Lucifer wasn't a victim. He was her closest friend and the person she was in love with. She usually knew him better than she knew herself most of the time, but she couldn't tell where that panic came from in the moment. Was he as scared of rejecting her as she was of being rejected? Or was he just as scared of allowing himself to love as she was. She knew that with his curse, he'd been hesitant of his relationships, romantic or otherwise. It was part of the reason she'd been so hesitant herself recently about talking about it (though it was mainly because of her own fear). The way he held onto her arms, rubbing them to reassure her, convinced her that this was a rejection, so she prepared herself for it.

She had to admit, he was setting up the rejection nicely. She imagined that he was going the route of asking if they could still be friends so they could still do all of those things. The last time I felt like this about someone... So he did feel the same way about her then, and his panic was about the curse. Even so, the doubt of whether this was real or not hurt. She knew his curse was broken. Cupid had confirmed that. Maze wasn't particularly great at dealing with her emotions, so the pain she felt at his doubt turned to anger. It wasn't rational anger, considering how valid his doubts were, but she was angry nevertheless. How dare he doubt her love?!

"I'm not Chloe," she snapped. "What, do you think that just because I was with her when Cupid broke your connection that it somehow transferred from her into me? Well, it didn't because I've been in love with you for a lot longer than that. I didn't fall in love with you because of a curse. I fell in love with you because unlike everyone else you were always there with me and for me from the day I met you. It wasn't some immediate infatuation. I don't do the love at first sight thing." She barely considered the love thing until she realized it was actually a possibility. "I don't just have the feeling that I love you. I know I love you because I consider the day you picked me to be your right hand one of the best moments of my life, and maybe kicking Azazel's ass made that day better too, but that's not the important part. You are. I like working for you. I like your dirty jokes because I have the same sense of humor. And your corny jokes are awful, but occasionally I'll find myself making them too." She sounded annoyed as she said all of this, only angry that he didn't see it. She shouldn't have been surprised though considering that seemed to run in his family. "I know a lot of people think it's a little extra the way you will do whole musical numbers. I agree, but I fucking love it!"

He looked like he was about to say something, but she cut him off. "I'm not done yet! You wanted to know how I know that this is real, so you're going to hear it all! When I was younger, and practically everyone was doubting me for being your right hand, you didn't. You never doubted my capability to kick their asses and make them shut the fuck up. I fucking love the fact that even though you're an archangel, you trust me to handle myself and fight my own battles. I'd be pissed if you tried to, but I never had to worry about that with you. I never have to worry about most things with you because I trust you. Hell, even your problems I don't mind dealing with. You self-sabotage constantly, and so do I. You've got the the world's biggest daddy issues, and I've got the world's worst mommy issues. But we know how to deal with each other's issues. The drama in your family is exponential, but I don't ever want to stop dealing with it. It's honestly really entertaining, and don't you dare fucking tell them this, or anyone for that matter, but I started to care for them too. Some of them anyways. Just a tiny barely noticeable amount." She probably shouldn't have said that, but she kept going.

"When we came up here together at first and Chloe made you vulnerable, you have no idea how terrified I was. I am your right hand and your bodyguard. I don't usually have to protect you from much because you're an archangel, but there you were getting injured constantly just because you kept going near the thing that was making you vulnerable. I was honestly glad that it was a curse just because it meant that you could be safe again." Sure there were other things that could hurt him but not many. "I was just glad that I didn't have to worry about losing you."

She continued to list off more and more reasons to prove how she knew her love was her own and not from some curse. It spanned from centuries in the past all the way to the present, including the smallest details like the way he laughed when he was scared or the way his hair looked after sex to more major details and events like the fact that she saw him when she looked at Asmodeus or how jealous she felt when she saw the other universe's Maze seeming to have everything with her Lucifer and how glad she was to come home to her own. It took her hours to get through everything, and it was well into the morning now. "And if that's not enough to convince you that this is real, I don't know what is," she huffed. "Cupid's been trying to get me to tell you for ages now, and she wouldn't do that if she had any doubts about my feelings for you being a curse. She might be a pain in the ass half the time, but I know you at least can count on her being genuine about love."

LUCIFER: "At the rate he dies, you'll likely catch up to Aamon or Michael at this point," he joked although he really hoped Sam would slow down a little for Charlie's sake. He chuckled when she replied that her strap-on had a condom. "A paragon of safe sex. I expect no less. I'm sure Charlie will appreciate the sentiment." If anything, Charlie would at least appreciate the jokes and the company. It had been a rough few hours for her. Those hours spanned days in hell. Days that Maze must've spent feeling anxious about her friend's wellbeing. No wonder she'd reacted so poorly to his faux pas.

He was hoping to make it up to her, but it was clear his hesitation was contributing to her anxiety. Being a demon from Aamon's kingdom, that anxiety naturally expressed itself with rage. He flinched as she snapped at him. He swallowed hard when she replied that she'd been in love with him for a lot longer than he'd been cursed. Maybe they'd looked at the curse all wrong then. Maybe it was there from the beginning. Maybe Chloe wasn't the original victim, but rather Mazikeen. The thought of that ached and hurt more than anything. She was his best advisor and his closest friend. The thought of their closeness potentially being driven by a curse was a hurt that threatened to tear his chest open, but continued to listen. It was best not to interrupt her when she was in one of these passionate rages.

His features softened and his panic started to drop off slightly as she started listing tangible things she liked about him. Love curses couldn't go that deep, could they? Cupid had told him even the strongest curses can only mimic a base and superficial love. What Maze was describing didn't feel superficial. She'd also said that real love felt different. It made you feel complete even when you felt like you were falling apart. Maze made him feel that way. She understood him in ways even those around him didn't seem to get.

She didn't try to change him or insist that he be someone else, someone more mature or someone she felt he needed to be in certain situations. She trusted his judgement even when he didn't trust himself necessarily. Apparently not everyone was the same way though. There were people out there that didn't like his musical numbers? He was about to open his mouth to retort, but she cut him off. He closed his mouth and patiently waited as she continued, a smile growing on his face.

Just as he'd been reminiscing about how she never doubted his abilities, it was clear she felt the same way about him never doubting her. He always knew that she was capable. His siblings might have been more powerful than her, but they always knew that Maze was an extension of Lucifer. She wasn't a subordinate, she was family to them. And it was clear Maze felt that they were her family too. That made Lucifer brighten considerably. He knew Maze didn't have a good relationship with her family and sometimes his own relationship with his family was rocky too. But she found her place among them and that was important to him.

She was as afraid of losing him as he was of losing her which was both terrifying and a relief. When she was off in the other timeline, he'd been a mess just thinking about it. It wasn't just the daunting task of finding another right hand if she never came back. It was the inexplicable pain of losing someone whom you couldn't imagine your life without. There was no one in this world or the next that could replace Maze.

"Mazikeen," he cupped her face as she finished, letting her take a few deep breaths to calm down. She looked like she needed a drink too. "I believe you," his voice was soft and gentle as he spoke. The previous panic that it carried was now gone. He really did believe her. He knew Maze well enough to know cursed or not, love was the last thing she wanted to admit to. It took guts to get this far and now it was time for him to show the same kind of bravery. "And I love you too," he smiled. "You make me a better person without trying to change a single thing about me. You listen to my fears and insecurities and you don't let them be the only voice inside my head. When shit hits the fan you are the only person I know I can count on. It's always been you," he replied as he leaned in and kissed her gently. "It's always going to be you."

MAZIKEEN: "He's really got issues if he's going that far." Maze could see the appeal of getting close to death. She liked pushing things that far all the time. Having sex with archangels who could easily end your existence provided a similar thrill, but Maze didn't actually want to die. "Yeah," Maze agreed. "Hopefully becoming death doesn't autocorrect her sense of humor." She was joking just to pick on Lucifer's mistake, but she was a little worried about how this change would affect Charlie. She didn't know everything about what becoming death entailed. She had always been closer to Charlie than Azrael, and Azrael wasn't very social. She hadn't talked much about what being Death was like either. Maze didn't know how much she could help Charlie, or how much any of them could.

She looked at Lucifer angrily as he cupped her face, waiting for him to make fun of her or say that her explanations weren't enough to prove that this was real even though she knew it was. Her expression softened when he said he believed her. "You do?" She asked, relaxing into him now. He'd gone through so much lately that she really didn't expect him to take her at her word. "You do?" She asked again as he told her he loved her too. She felt warmer, and she was smiling brightly. She didn't think she'd been in love before him, and just getting that confirmation was such a relief. She felt lighter and happier. She looked at him in awe as he explained just what made him love her too. "I don't need to change anything about you," she said in defense of him, but she couldn't counter the rest of it. She deepened the kiss. Her hands moved into his hair, pulling on some of the strands, but this kiss was different than their usual make-out sessions. It wasn't just from lust, though she was feeling hornier now. Adding an emotional extension to kissing someone was . . . Interesting to say the least. She might've loved him before, but loving him and knowing he loved her had the most thrill she'd ever known. Cupid could never be told that. She'd never hear the end of how right Cupid was, but this was something Mazikeen had needed to do on her own anyways. Maze smirked as they pulled out of the kiss. "If it's always going to be me, do we need to discuss anything else, or are you going to get me out of these clothes?"

LUCIFER: "There's minor death kinks and then there's whatever Sam's got," he chuckled. He would pass off Linda's number to Sam and maybe even introduce them. She'd get a kick out of an interdimensional client and Sam could really use the help after all of this. He groaned at the joke Maze made about Charlie's humor getting autocorrected. If course she wasn't going to let him live it down. Despite her ribbing at him, he knew there was some truth hidden in her jokes. She was afraid that this whole transition to becoming Death would change Charlie. "She's a little overwhelmed right now, but still Charlie. It's like the second Frozen movie where Elsa transitions into the fifth natural force," he giggled to himself. "You know, that sort of makes you Anna. I've seen dark before..." he sang through his giggles, ducking away before she could smack him.

"I do," he nodded. "It doesn't mean I'm any less scared about it or that I even know what I'm doing, but I believe you and I love you," he assured her. Admitting it out loud again felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder. The more times he said it out loud, the more sure of himself he felt. He did love her. This wasn't the curse talking, this was him. He smiled when she replied that she didn't need to change him. He'd gone a good portion of his life thinking there was something wrong with him. He didn't fit the mold his Father intended for him. He never accepted him for who he was and simply wanted to beat him down until he was a perfect soldier like Michael. But Maze never tried to change him. She never made him feel like he was built wrong or that he was too soft, too hard, or too much for the role placed on his shoulders.

As she deepened the kiss, he pressed her against the wall, wanting to feel every inch of her. Having aired out how he felt, and having her accept it and feel the same was exhilarating and quite frankly more of a turn on than anything else he'd ever experienced before. He could hardly focus as she pulled away. "Well," he smirked, trailing kisses down her neck as his hands explored her body. "I do have some making up to do for my previous faux pas." He gripped her tightly and picked her up before plopping her down onto the bed. "You know what they say, no time line the present," he smirked, dipping down to kiss her again.

#╰☆☆ now tell me what is it you truly desire? | replies ☆☆╮#╰☆☆ it's you. it's always been you | mazikeen ☆☆╮#maze: discords #discord chat

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