#ready to break some bones

[likesummerrainn]

Teoman | NXT UK 06.10.21

[toasty-bat]

I can’t tell if I’m in a mood where I want to scream about Things or if I want to hide under blankets until they don’t exist

[vuulpecula]

2) Punching your muse in the face (( angry teenage khan @ alexei despite knowing that if he doesn't kill him vitaly will 🙃 ))

send me “bad touch” for some randomly generated violence ( add reverse to reverse it ) | accepting bc i am trash | @paramounticebound

2. punching your muse in the face. 

      Alexei stilled as blood flooded from his nose. The punch had been unexpected, in truth, he did not think the boy had the BALLS to do it. To fight back. A cruel smile parted his lips, revealing bloodied teeth. “Is that the best you can do, boy,” he spit red fluid onto the cement floor. Knuckles cracking as he turned his own hands into fists. Had it been any other male, they would’ve already been dead and likely on their way to being cut into tiny little pieces, but this was Vitaly’s son. The king would not kill him, but there was nothing stopping him from making the boy wish he was dead. 

      His arms spread wide, open, inviting more. “Try again and make it worth it.” This was a game, the second movement in a dance, he was playing with his food. A predator incarnate. For Vitaly’s son he needed no knives, no guns, no poisoned things, he needed only his fists. A few well-placed hits and the boy would be crying for his mother on the ground like the infant he was. Although, Alexei was curious as to what brought on this bought of aggression and how he could hone it, weaponize it in the same way he had with Vitaly. 

      “Go on,” he was still grinning, “hit me again.” 

[smoochesforghost]

.

[plutoswritingplanet]

White Rabbit (Peter Ballard x Female!Reader)

PART 2

a/n: how close can i get to writing monsterfricking before being called a monsterfricker?

Warnings: NON-CON (nothing too explicit, but still, be warned, be safe), bathroom-donging (once again), extensive use of a 80′s rock song as a plot device

Summary: Vecna’s Curse finally comes to take what’s his. Only thing is, he doesn’t look like the monster your friends described. 

Edit: Y'all are actually insane for giving this fic so many notes. There will be part two, most certainly, after the finale comes out. I will tag everyone in notes and in my askbox. With peace and love, what the fuck

There is a clock, ticking inside your head. It's sound filling every crevice of your brain, seeping into every fiber of your being, rattling every bone in your body until you're unable to move. You know what it means, you've seen what comes after it. The mutilated corpses of a cheerleader and that press kid are burned into your consciousness. Then, Max, floating above the graveyard, her blue eyes rolled grotesquely into the back of her head.

You haven't told anyone, as the team runs around Hawkins, looking for any clues that could help them stop Vecna's Curse.

Speaking of which, you are yet to see the abomination causing your imminent demise. It terrifies you to your very core, but under that overbearing feeling, there is another one. Curiosity. Danger feels heavy on your shoulders, and you love it, the thrill it gives you. Besides, shall things go south, you have a recorder by your side, "White Rabbit" by Jefferson's Airplane recorded on a small cassette, ready for trouble. "You can do this", is a mantra you've been telling yourself for hours now, you can survive.

The Wheeler house is lively with worried chatter, parents lamenting over their kids, in trouble again, and with the Hawkins Police nonetheless. You're sitting in the living room, head hanging low, fingers pulling at the hem of your shirt, which is currently covered in stains of various origin. Moss, mud, some blood, although you don't know where it came from. All the fault will undoubtedly fall on your shoulders. Being the only adult on scene, the only one getting caught. You curse under your breath, thinking of your friends, old and new, currently stuck in the Upside Down. Leaving you to handle everything else on the surface.

It has been a hassle, the interrogation. You got put into a stuffy room with Officer Calahan, who was strangely excited at the prospect of potentially locking up a bunch of kids, for whatever reason. It won't happen, obviously, but you're not here to break his bubble. He asks you questions with an aura of sarcastic authority, giving you patronizing nods, whenever you answer. You want to punch him, not only because your friends are currently in mortal danger, and you could do so much more to help them, if he'd just let you out. There is also the sound of a ticking clock, coming from behind his back, and the suspense drives you insane.

And a spider. Fat and dangerous, it traverses the expanse of the man's shoulder, but when you blink, it's gone.

- Can I use the bathroom? - you ask, voice barely containing all the emotions you were feeling.

The Officer looks at you, startled, as you had just interrupted another one of the monologues. He blinks, as you turn your head, and blinks again, processing your words.

- Yeah - he sounds dumbfounded.

Before the man can say anything more, you bolt out of the room, to the corridor basked in warm light of the ornate chandelier. The ticking is louder here, seemingly just a smidge away from your ear, and slowly, as if not to startle the hallucination, you turn your head left. There, on a cream wall, where normally a lovely family photo of the Wheeler's would hang, you find a round face of a grandfather's clock, staring back at you. One hand comes to life, lazily sliding from one minute to the other, a rusty clank of the mechanism filling your ears. There is a sinking feeling in your stomach, as you force your eyes away from the clock.

The world spins around you, as you fall through the bathroom door, closing it behind you. Your hands shake, as you reach for the recorder, fingers fumbling around the headphones you hastily pull over your ears. One click later, and a familiar base enters your brain, the sound of the clock barely recognizable beneath the drums.

- One pill makes you larger - you mutter under your breath, leaning heavily on the sink.

You try to control your breathing, focus on the steady rise and fall of your chest, still muttering the lyrics, like a prayer. The feeling persists, however, and you begin to sway in your place. The mirror shows your disheveled reflection in an almost mocking manner. Hair is sticking to your sweaty face, there are tears framing your eyes, and you're ghastly pale, worryingly so. Unable to focus, you close your eyes, shutting your eyelids tight. trying to block out everything but the music. Specks of light dance beneath your eyelids, and you try to follow their irregular paths, anything to bring you back.

Yet, that ticking sound is persistent, almost impatient. Waiting for the song to end. And with a click of finality, it does. Your heart jumps to your chest, as silence finally engulfs you. Your right hand flies to the Cassette player, fingers immediately finding the rewind button. Your eyes stay shut, as you listen to the whirling of the tape. And the ticking, always the ticking. Finally, it stops. A breath of relief shakes you.

- Don't play it again.

Your eyes fly open, as you give a startled gasp. The bathroom is empty, only your wracked figure reflected in the mirror. But something is wrong, you can feel it at the base of your neck, where the hairs stand up on guard. It doesn't feel like the Upside Down, doesn't look like it too, and yet, you can't shake the ever present sensation of indescribable dread.

Slowly, your fingers skim the play button, the plastic ridges dig into your skin, as you press down.

Then, something catches your hand. Delicately, like it's holding a flower.

You nearly scream, thrashing in the bathroom, turning harshly towards the shower, nails digging into the porcelain edge of the sink. Empty. Nothing.

Your heart stammers out of your chest, blood rushing through your ears in a suffocating display of panic. And the clock keeps ticking.

You're terrified now, properly. Screw all feelings of curiosity from earlier, you're pretty sure you can live without knowing. And so, even more feverishly, you fumble with the recorder, finally hitting the play button so hard, you nearly break your finger. The drums start again, and as the base joins it, you fall to your knees onto the floor, breathing heavily with relief.

- God - you sigh - Why me?

- Why you, indeed...

His voice is barely audible through the music, but you still feel it crushing through your skull. Your body freezes, as you glance up from the floor. There, just centimeters from you, stands a pair of white shoes. At least you think they're white, as the image keeps flickering in and out of existence, like a glitch on a homemade videotape. Your eyes drag up, over slender legs clad in white pants, white shirt tucked into them. Then, you finally see him. An angelic face looking at you from above. Beautiful, blue eyes, sharp features and lovely lips, all surrounded by a halo of blonde waves. An angel, truly.

You blink, and his image shifts out of existence just for a second.

- Who are you? - your voice sounds foreign in your ears, barely recognizable over the music

The man smiles a gentle smile, before kneeling down in front of you. His hands slowly creep towards yours, cradling them in a hold that is so warm and comforting, you want to melt into it without question. His eyes are so incredibly blue, it takes your breath away. And yet, despite the whirlwind of emotions, you can't stop staring into them. The man lifts your joined hands towards his lips. There isn't even a ghost of a breath, fanning your knuckles, as he places a kiss onto the bone. His image shifts again, violently, and a new feeling of slow dread creeps up your spine.

Then, a shadow passes through him, the kind facade falling into something much darker, much more sinister.

- I'm your worst nightmare - he smiles, teeth on full display, sharp and pointy.

You try to free your hands with a  yank, but he holds them close with little to no force, eyes leaving your face in favor of studying the way veins move beneath your skin.

- I have many names - he says, his voice is calm and melodic - Henry - his lips brush the outside of your left wrist - Peter - a swift kiss is placed onto the tips of your finger - One...

He lingers for a bit at the juncture between your thumb and your pointer, and you still feel no breath coming from him.

- Although, the name your friends have given me has a nice ring to it - he looks up, capturing you again with those blue eyes of his.

- Vecna - your voice comes out as a mere whisper, one you can't even hear amongst the song, slowly, but without stopping, coming to an end.

Suddenly, the man stands up, and you feel yourself being pulled up to your feet as well. It's not gentle at all, and you nearly trip, before finding your balance. Faster than you can comprehend, the man turns you around, so you're facing the mirror. You can see him fully now. He's almost a head taller than you, slender and elegant. Not at all the monster you have imagined, not the one Max told you about. He peers at your reflection, towering over you in his clean, white clothes.

- My name means very little to me now - he says again, hand coming up to tuck your hair behind, exposing your neck to him - I am very particular about the names of my victims, however - another smile has you shaking, as his wondering hands press slightly on your pulse.

You can't move, your legs feel heavy, like someone tied them down with rocks. Your heart is beating so fast, you can feel it in your throat, where his fingers drum delicately over your skin, to the beat of the song still keeping you alive.

- Chrissy - he hisses into your hair - Sounds sweet like candy, and in a way, that's how she tasted.

A shiver wrecks your body, as images of the Cheerleader's body flood your mind. Her eyes, sucked into her skull, her limbs in disarray.

- Fred - you can feel his hands on the insides of your arms, fingers dragging over your veins - Intelligent, although slightly tart, like unripe apples.

Your head starts to spin, breaths escaping you in quick puffs. They found Fred in the middle of the road, alone, abandoned, mutilated.

- Patrick - he dips his head into the crook of your shoulder, nose sliding up, towards your ear - Stern, but full of life, reminded me of walnuts.

"When logic and proportion, have fallen sloppy dead" the singer wails, and you know, your time is coming to an end. A small whimper escapes you, as slender arms encircle your frame, pushing your back into his body.

- Max - there is a spark of rage at the mention of your friends name, one, he catches in your reflection with a raised eyebrow - Strong, youthful, like mint. When I heard your name amongst thousands, I knew, you'd taste wonderful.

Your entire body starts to writhe, as the man gives your neck a long lick of his tongue, starting from your shoulder, up to the back of your ear.

- Oooh - he laughs to himself, as you watch him in the mirror, still unable to move - There is some kick to you, I can tell. Like hot peppers.

He dives down again, placing open-mouthed kisses to your feverish skin, teeth just barely scraping your pulse point.

- A name like this should be savored. This guilt you feel should be savored.

"Feed your head" the woman sings, the song swelling in your ears, so close to the end, you start to shake. As if on cue, the man slowly reaches up, his fingers tangling themselves into your hair, as he pushes them under your headphones. It takes one move, for the plastic to fall from your head, clattering to the ground.

Your eyes meet in the mirror as sudden silence engulfs the both of you. There is a victorious smirk playing around on his lips, as his right hands starts to twirl your hair around his finger. He rubs the strands, like he's sampling a fabric, bafore bringing them closer to his nose, and taking a long whiff of air.

- ...Or maybe cinnamon - me sighs, eyebrows scrunching together.

- Are you going to kill me now?

Again, images of broken bones and mutilated corpses fill your mind, you can almost imagine the wet cracking.

The man laughs, stepping away from your trembling body for just an inch, the loss of his body behind you makes you sway in place. There's this weird flickering glitch running over his figure, intensifying for a moment. He takes a long breath, you can see muscles work under any visible sliver of skin, and as he relaxes again, his form stabilizes.

That is when you realize, what you're looking at isn't real. He isn't real. This angelic, terrifying boy is just an illusion, a hallucination, meant to lull you into a false sense of security. And it almost works. Almost, because as you focus more on his eyes, they seem to become less blue, and more milky and veiny. More like a monster.

- Guilt is a fickle thing - his voice is lower, more raspy than before.

His head dips down behind you, and he plants a wet kiss to the base of you neck, teeth scraping against your skin in a way, that wrenches a whine out of your lips.

Your stomach churns with a feeling sitting too close to arousal, as his large hands begin to explore your body further.

- It never leaves, not truly. And you have so much of it. - a hand digs itself into your hip, then slides up, leasing the edge of your shirt.

- Stop.

He doesn't, fingers creeping under the fabric, squeezing the soft tissue there.

- You're supposed to protect your brother, but he keeps getting hurt on your watch. How many bones does he have to break? How many times have you failed him?

Tears spring to life in the corners of your eyes, as you try to turn away from your reflection. He's faster though, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look back to the mirror. Then, he cranes your chin to the side, forcefully, so that your face is closer to him.

- Those kids you've taken under your wing, I will devour them all, and you'll watch - he seems unmoved by your sobs, whispering the words into your wet cheek - Your father, poor father, never had the chance of seeing how much of a disappointment you really are.

His lips are soft as he kisses your tears away, tasting the saltiness with a grin. Like a chef, proud of his most delicious meal.

- I see it all, sweetness - the hand digging into your stomach climbs up, over your ribs, stopping just short of the underside of your breast.

- Please... - a choked sob escapes you, as your body tries to free itself from his iron hold.

- Shhh - he shushes you, you can't feel his breath on your lips, when he gives you a chaste kiss.

For that matter, you can't feel anything, that would suggest you're being held by a living being. There is no rise and fall to his chest, no smell, no heartbeat.

His form starts to flicker yet again, and suddenly, you feel something definitely not human sliding and swirling behind you. A constantly moving mass holds you in place and instinctively, you screw your eyes shut. You don't want to know how he looks like in reality, mind focusing back on the angelic man from before. Now, you can feel him breath, a low rumble starts in his gut everytime he inhales, like a beast ready to pounce.

- It takes - the voice coming from behind you is gruff and monstrous - A considerable amount of strength to keep this image in place.

Slowly, with every word, the man's voice comes back to the normal, melodic tone. The shifting mass on your back seizes its movements, and slowly, you allow yourself to crack an eye open.

Blue eyes, sharp cheekbones and a halo of blonde hair stare back at you in the mirror's reflection. He gives out a small chuckle, shakes his head slightly, and bends down to take another long sniff of your hair.

- There's no need for you to see my real form - he mutters into the crown of your head - After all, it's not your fear I'm after.

His hands move with unexpected speed, as the both slide upwards, under your shirt, to cup roughly at your breasts. The sound you give out is pathetic at best, as this sliver of friction sets your whole body ablaze.

- It's your guilt - he forces out through his teeth, giving your breasts another sharp squeeze.

Before you have the time to actually understand the implications behind his words, you body is being pressed forwards. The ceramic edge of the sing digs painfully into the meat of your thighs, but the feeling is swallowed completely by a slender hand worming it's way into your pants.

Your entire body rocks back and forth, as the man, Peter, Vecna, plunges two long digits into you without warning.

You feel a raw whine climb out of your throat, as you clench around his fingers, hands flailing at your sides, looking for any sort of purchase. He lets you lean on him completely, one hand massaging your breast, before abandoning it in favor of gripping your pulse.

He works you steadily and greedily, pulling sounds out of you, you'd have never imagined were possible. It feels sick, your stomach tightens into a growing coil, as the rythmic pumping shakes you to your bones.

- I...please - your words come out slurred, as your vision swims around your head.

He chuckles, seemingly unaffected, and presses his thumb down on your pulsing bundle of nerves. The sudden jolt of pleasure wrenches a scream out of you, one, he swallows, forcefully craning his neck, and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss hurts, plain and simple. His lips, despite being pillowy soft, bite into yours with force you've never experienced in your life. Then, teeth appear, raking abused flesh, tongue forcing it's way into your mouth. It's too much, the whole thing starts to feel less like a nightmare, and more like an execution.

Your lungs scream for more oxygen, the tightening in your stomach accompanied by the sharp pain in your chest. And just when you truly think, this is how you are going to die, something entirely unexpected happens.

"One pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small"

The song enters your brain like a dose of adrenaline, waking you from your stupor. Immediately, the hand toying with your insides, retracts, leaving you unfulfilled and disappointed. The emptiness carries, as his mouth detach from yours. You can't open your eyes, you refuse to do so, too overwhelmed to see.

- Remember this - the man says into your ear, his words slowly being drowned out by music - Remember this feeling, when I come for you again.

With that, you're being released, your limp body falling down onto the floor, where you're met with gentle hands of your friends cradling you.

- Jesus, we though you were a goner! - Lucas nearly screams in your face, as you try your best to focus on the kid's features.

- Yeah! You were flying under the ceiling - Dustin shoves a finger up, and your glazed eyes follow, looking at an unidentified spot above your head.

- Why didn't you tell us? - Max is gripping your shoulders so hard, you're sure it will leave a mark.

The kids, your kids, look at you with terrified faces, as you try to stand up, bones heavy, muscles trembling with unresolved tension.

- Didn't want to worry you guys...

It's a weak excuse, and right now you're not even sure if it's true. Dustin mutters something about you being an adult idiot, and in your heart you can't disagree with him.

- Just - Max slowly let's go of your arm - Keep the headphones on.

With that, the gang makes their way out of the bathroom, you following right after them. The coil in your stomach dies down, and with it, new, overbearing feeling arises in your chest.

Guilt. Crushing guilt of wanting something so wrong you can never recover from it.

And beneath the familiar drums, and the voice, and the guitar, you hear a gentle sound of a ticking clock.

[warnersister]

Ten Minutes For Breakfast

Carl Gallagher x Reader Smut

Police Office! Carl Gallagher x Reader

Carl Gallagher x Reader

Warnings: smut, pure filth, suggested handcuffing, food, etc.

Requested by: @madelynmulford

Carl walked into your shared kitchen, nose following the smell that arose with the cooking of a Wednesday’s breakfast. He couldn’t help but smirk at the image in front of him, leaning against the door frame as if examining your image.

You were cooking his favourite, the typical bacon and eggs, but that wasn’t even the thing that was enticing him. It was the way that his Metallica T-shirt barely skimmed the bottom of your ass. It was the way that he kept almost capturing a glimpse of the lacy underwear adorning your body. It was the way that your hair was messily tied so high that he could see the purple blotches on your neck, reminiscing the night before. It was just a sight for sore eyes.

He looked at the clock above the stove, noting the twenty minutes he had until he was forced to leave for another shift in the dangers of downtown Chicago.

You had failed to notice his presence until two arms wrapped around your waist, lips planting over the previous decoration on your skin, and hips pushed into your own. You turned your head to kiss him with a smile, a gentle hum of “morning baby” emitting from his lips.

“You’re breakfast is almost ready.” You informed him, watching the bacon crackle continuously in the grill. He groaned, lips trailing up your neck and to your collar bone. “I think I’d prefer breakfast in bed.” You knew what he meant, but continued to cook - ignoring his blatantly horny suggestion.

“(Y/n),” He groaned at your ignorance, grinding his hips further into your own. “Carl,” You replied in a sarcastically sadistic tone, similar to his own. “You have to get going in ten minutes.” You told him, almost being able to see his eye role.

You were suddenly spun with a small yelp, being lifted up and placed on the counter-top a distance from the heated food. “What? You don’t think I can make you cum in ten minutes?” His lips ghosted your neck, hands trailing down your frame. A sudden Burt of confidence radiates through you, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. “No, I don’t.” The lust-filled irises of a chocolate brown darkened dramatically, a dangerous stop brewing behind the seclusion of his eyes.

“Dangerous game your playing, baby.” He told you, eyes connecting with yours. “Guess we gotta finish it then.” Carl’s lips crashed hungrily into your own, not allowing breaks for oxygen, too desperate by the lack of time. He turned and picked you up with him, your legs automatically circling around his waist until your back was rested against the kitchen table.

Your breath quickened, little kisses being left down your body as he neared your underwear. He lifted the shirt up, examining the barriers keeping him from a good breakfast. The black fabric created an enticing pattern leading down to his well-deserved meal. Almost ripping them, your underwear found the floor, and your thighs found his shoulders.

“You’re fucking dripping.” His voice laced with a teasing venom, a smirk returning to his mouth when he heard your desperate wines. “What’s that? You don’t wanna cum?” He asked, your complaints heightening with noice. You reached your fingers down to his hear, desperately tugging for some sort of relief from his part. He harshly pushed your hands away, a warning glare sent to you from his place on his knees on the floor. “Watch your hands, I will handcuff you to this fucking table, Princess.” He said, a submissive agreement leaving your lips.

“Carl please,” His pushed his thumb roughly against your clit, enjoying the noises leaving your mouth at the sudden contact, small circles being drawn between your legs. “What was that, baby?” “For fucks sake! Please! Please Carl, I need you.” That was enough for him, licking a long, lengthened lick up your pleading cunt. “So much better than eggs and bacon.” He joked, but you couldn’t laugh a long with him, attempting to find some closure for your clouded mind.

His tongue suddenly, delved into your velvet walls, satisfied hums leaving his lips - sending shockwaves of vibrations through your core and straight to your head. “God, Carl.” Your moans were like angel’s whispered, enchanting music playing directly into his ears. He carried on licking and sucking, kissing the most sensitive of areas to heighten the arousal pumping through your veins.

Your legs tensed and he knew your orgasm was near, adding two fingers into your sex for good measure, time control completely discarded. “Come on darling, that’s it, cum for me.” His dominating tone slowly exiting as a soft encouragement edged you to an inevitable defeat to his claim.

The cries ripples through you, stimulation bursting at the seams as the knot in your lower stomach snapped and was lapped up by the delicious licks of his unforgiving tongue. He wiped his lips as he stood, tastebuds already complaining at the loss of the most delicious, the most dangerous, the most luxurious of meals.

The scene in front of him was a sight for sore eyes, the clock in the corner calling his name as if in a trance. Yet he couldn’t look away, only watching you fighting for hushed breaths, eyes closed, and legs trembling as they limply rested against the table.

Your eyes slowly opened, watching Carl look you over carefully, as if studying the most precious of artefacts. His hands gently took yours, pulling you up into the sensuality of a loving embrace. “You okay?” You hummed in agreement, allowing him to lift your chin to peck your lips gently.

“Only took me eight minutes.” You giggled, not caring, and simply letting him gain victory. He picked your underwear up off of the floor, and stuffed them in his back pocket, chuckling at the deathly glare you gave him. You stayed on the table and simply watched him shimmy on the police-coat with was previously rested on the chair.

He walked back over, hands on your hips, and kissed you ever so carefully. “I love you.” He spoke, voice barely above a whisper as his forehead momentarily leant against yours. “I love you too.” He smiled down softly at you, taking a step back to secure his belt and hat.

“Thank you for breakfast baby,” He grinned, looking up at the clock, and you just ‘mhmed’ in a teasingly annoyed tone. “See you at five.” And with that, the door clicked behind him - and you just sat and listened to him drive away. Your consciousness slowly seeped back, and only now did you realise the smoke alarm loudly bleating an iterating warning in your ear - all the food was burnt. You groaned and ran your hands over your face, offering a minute to rub your tired eyes, before hopping onto two unstable legs turning the oven off completely.

“For fucks sake, Carl.”

[chibird]

Hello everyone! A bit ago, I mentioned I made a big life update that I wasn't ready to share with everyone yet. Well, I'm finally ready! I'm going to be working on Chibird full-time now!!! I had essentially been working two full-time jobs for the past few years, as both a software engineer in the day and running Chibird at night and on the weekends, and it wasn't sustainable. Some days, I would finish work at 5, take a 30 minute break, and then start drawing or packing Patreon club shipments. I was anxious and overworked. With everything I was trying to spread about self compassion and mental health, it didn't make sense to continue working myself to the bone. In the past few months, I've been able to accomplish so much more for Chibird, like finishing my 2022 calendar in time for the holidays and designing new merchandise! And maybe even more importantly, I've been able to rest my body and soul, resting at night, taking weekends without working, and trying to exercise more too! Are things changing for Chibird? Only in a good way! I'll still be posting all my art for free a few times a week, but now, I'll be able to work on new, bigger projects, like making a plushie! I've been nervous to share because it felt really personal, and I didn't want expectations of me to change- I'm still just one person handling all of the art, messages, manufacturing, marketing, and so on, and a big part of the change was also to take care of my health. But at the end of the day, I know you all are some of the most understanding people, and you wouldn't have expected anything more than what I was able to give. I'll be going slow and steady- I won't be able to put out all the things I've been dreaming of for the past 10 years just this year, but I'll start to tackle one after the other in the hopefully many years to come! If you enjoy my art and want to see more projects from Chibird, you can join my Patreon where I share behind-the-scenes, create phone wallpapers, and ship out limited edition monthly mail! Tumblr, Instagram, and Facebook have paid me a grand sum of $0 over the years, and Patreon was a big reason why I could make this change for myself. I know it’s not possible for everyone, and that’s totally okay- I'm just glad you're here and enjoy my art!

This comic feels kind of raw, but I wanted to be totally candid and show you all a snippet of my journey that I don't often share. It was pretty tough trying to condense years of feelings and challenges and dreams into one comic, but I think it's better to just get it out there than fuss over it for another few months! I hope the text here makes everything clearer. It's been 11 years since I started Chibird when I was in school, and it brings tears to my eyes to say, I'm finally working on Chibird full-time! With much love, Jacqueline

[jvblood]

shopping spree

pairing: argyle x afab reader

word count: 3k

summary: You go on a shopping spree with Argyle and found this beautiful sundress and skimpy bikini. Argyle loved one more than the other though.

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ minors dni), idk if this is a warning but it’s a sorta modern au

a/n: this literally took me all day so i'm sorry. i really did not pull through with this. if you have anything in particular else, let me know <3 also i love writing argyle saying bro and dude in a romantic way also also i poorly proofread so don't hate me.

As spring break rolled around, you decided that your closet could use an update. Your closet was filled with over vibrant long sleeves, long pants, and clothes that required a good reason to wear it outside. Maybe a new skirt? Or even a new blouse? All you know is that you needed something new. You don’t really have that many girlfriends to go with, so who else but your boyfriend , Argyle, to take you on this frivolous adventure. You heard the honk of the van and rushed out the door. 

“Hey, dude!” Argyle greets as you shut the door of the van. His smile widening as you make yourself comfortable. 

“Hey, man,” you say, struggling to reach for your seat belt, “you ready to roll?” He playfully scoffs and puts the car into drive. He bobbed and weaved through the neighborhood, and honest to god, you could feel your heart rate speeding up from how fast he was going. But, you trust him, he wouldn’t harm you, even by accident. 

____________________

You arrived at the mall in one piece, thankfully, but now comes the hardest part. Trying to find a store that deems worthy. You settle on Spencers and hastily walk in with Argyle. It wasn’t because it scared you, it was just the back wall encounter would be a different story to talk about with Argyle. You nervously look through the clothes, trying to find something comfortable you could wear that wasn’t inappropriate for the family, but it was either that or some musician shirt. Argyle on the other hand was eating it up. He picked himself a ‘Fet’s Luck’ shirt and started huffing out in excitement. You roll your eyes playfully, accepting nothing in here would be of use to you.  Argyle, on the other hand, makes it to the checkout to get his shirt and exits the store with you. 

“Where to next, dudette?” He says as you attach yourself to his arm, smiling. 

You both walk towards the nearest Forever 21. You don’t usually shop here but it’s time for a change of pace. You look through their spring collection and browse. You finally stop in front of the swimwear collection. You aimlessly look through with Argyle right beside you, wondering what could look good for this year’s swimming activity. Suddenly, a simple black string bikini piece catches your eye. 

“How about this!” You say looking at Argyle. He was looking at the strings, eyes widened and mouth hanging.

“Where is the rest of it?” He says picking up the two piece.

“That’s how it’s supposed to look.” You say rolling your eyes. Quickly, you find your size and hold onto it, continuing your shopping. You hand Argyle the bikini when you found the cutest sundress. You grabbed the dress and pressed it against your body, imagining what you would look like with it on. 

“How about this?” You say grabbing Argyle attention. His mind is all over the place. The thought of you in the dress could simply be the death of him. The dress exposed your collar bones and fit pretty around your torso and chest. The length of the dress could hit the floor with a high slit. You could see yourself sitting pretty in the dress while Argyle could see you underneath him with the dress on. This time with his hair tied. 

“It’s dope.” He stutters looking back and forth from the dress and you. Your smile shown, thinking that this dress could be perfect. 

“Could you be a doll and hold onto these for me as well, please?” You pout, hoping he would say yes. How could he say no when you’re too sweet? He nodded and followed you around like a puppy. You grabbed more items and started piling them up in Argyle’s hands.

Finally, you decided it was time to check out. Argyle puts all the clothes on the counter and huffs out. Any longer his arm’s would've fallen. The cashier looked defeated with the way the pile of clothes sat and waited to be scanned. They begrudgingly began scanning the clothes and put them into bags. You paid for your things while Argyle took the initiative to hold your bags. He insisted on taking them for you since you guys were here for you. 

You couldn’t help but think Argyle was being super kind to you. So you wanted to reward him. You both make your way to the food court, ready to eat something up.

“What do you want to eat?” You ask as you both found your way to a table for two. He mentions a pretzel at Auntie Anne’s and attempts to get up to go buy one. You push him back down onto the seat and tell him you’ll be getting it for the both of you. He emphasized that he should get it but you reluctantly disagreed and told him to stay with the bags. 

Argyle finally listened as he sat back down. You gladly make your way to get you guys a pretzel and a drink. One for the both of you. You safely made it back to the table without any harm to the food. 

“I wanted it to be my treat,” you say, handing him his pretzel, “ since you’ve been so kind as to hold my things for me.” 

“I would do anything for you.” He breathed out and blushed. Argyle lost his train of thought while you smiled at him. He was enthralled with you from the beginning. You knew Argyle could be all sweet but each time he does it, it always makes your heart flutter. 

Luckily, you and Argyle felt that it was time to head home, so you both prepared to get ready to leave, throwing away your respective trash and making your way to the exit. 

________________________

Arriving home, you see your parents are still gone, so you invite Argyle in. Your parents knew you were going to be with him all day and they trusted the both of you, which you were thankful for. They wanted to give a bit of freedom before the two of you are about head into your first year of college in a couple months. This was the first step into freedom. As you both walked into your room, you had the marvelous idea. 

“Hey, babe, let me go put these on and rate them for me, please?” You ask as you take your bags. “Of course, bro.” He says as he kisses your forehead and sits on your bed waiting. You promptly leave the room, bags in hand, and begin to head for the bathroom. You started off mild, wearing clothes you know that probably won’t be on the floor tonight. Yet, each piece you put on, Argyle loved, he couldn’t really see a flaw in each outfit. Argyle could never say that you didn’t look amazing in anything you bought. He loved you and whatever you wore just enhanced it. All the pieces were breathtaking to him.  

Finally, the two pieces that you were holding off. You slipped on the bikini and looked into the mirror. You never really saw your body like this but you feel confident. You inched your way back to your room with a waiting Argyle. 

His jaw dropped as you walked through the door. Now you started feeling a bit more self-conscious about what you wore. Argyle though was eating it up. Trying to save this image in head so he could remember this when he dies. Which he also hopes isn’t until a super long time. 

“What do you think?” You say while twirling around. Argyle was still sitting in silence, brain full of the thought of you. He was at a loss of words, he wanted to go on and on about how you look amazing like how you did in the other clothes but he was literally at a loss of words. 

“You can say you don’t like it.” You tease as you walk to him. You reached him and he pulled you closer to him. All Argyle could do was a hasty laugh. His hands crept up onto your waist, hugging you. He was slouching, allowing him to look up at you for once and you looked down at him, smirking. 

“How could I hate this?” He says as he slowly begins kissing your skin. He tugged at the bikini bottom and let go, causing you to yelp at the sudden action. 

“Argyle, please” you giggle, “I need to go put on the last item.” 

“There’s one more?” He asked as he lifted his head up to look at you once more. 

“Yes, let me put it on.” You say as you detach yourself from his hold. 

Finally came the sun dress that you bought. The item that you knew would drive him crazy. You decided no panties and no bra for the dress. You promptly made it back to the room and Argyle sucked in a breath as if he had to hold his breath. The dress looked amazing on you. It fit your body so beautifully that Argyle thought he could start crying right now. 

“Come here.” He whispered. You paced yourself towards him as he watched you from head-to-toe. Being under his watchful eye made you nervous. He stood up, taller than you of course. His eyes soften to the sight of you in the dress and you could feel your heart thumping, hell you could hear it even. He caresses your cheek and tucks your hair behind your ear to see your face clearly. Argyle’s soft eyes stare at you, thinking how could someone like you fall into his life. 

“You look absolutely beautiful.” He moans out. Argyle can’t help but glance down to your lips every second. You pick up on his hint and look at him as well. As if it was a silent agreement, you both meet in the middle and gently kiss. He pulls back reluctantly, thinking a quick breather was neccesary. He looks down into your eyes, taking it all in. Being able to just enjoy the moment of the two in silence. You bite your lip, reminded of what’s not underneath the dress. 

“I want you to feel beautiful too.” He says as he goes back in for another kiss. You didn’t expect this sudden straightforwardness Argyle displayed. Yet, he was true to his comment: He would do anything for you. He wanted you to feel good, that’s the only thing on his mind right now. He takes your hand and leads you to lay down on the bed. You make it to the pillows and lean back on the headrest of your bed. He’s laying next to you one arm propping himself up while his other was allowing him to rake his hand up and down your leg, thanks to the slit.

“Let me take care of you.” He whispers into your ear. You shivered to the feeling of his touch, it was tantalizingly slow, he was teasing at this point. Soon, he reaches your core. He moans at the fact that you took off your panties before he could. He brings his hand up to his mouth and dribbles a bit of spit onto his finger, then he reaches back down and slowly circled your clit. The feeling made you get more aroused. You could feel yourself getting wetter as Argyle kept on massaging your clit. You pulled down the top of the dress to expose your breast and began teasing your nipple. 

Argyle could not stop staring at your breasts. If he could, he would call them his home. He instantly puts one in his mouth, tugging and teasing the bud. Your moans fill the room as he starts sucking. As if the cock block gods had heard the please of your voice, your parents came home. You could hear the slam of the car door and thankfully the last working brain cell that wasn’t horny was able to snap back to reality.  

“Fuck!” You say as you snap your head to the door. Quickly, you push Argyle off of you. Not too hard but hard enough to get the hint. 

“My parents are here!” You whispered as you picked up all of your clothes and fixed yourself to make it seem as if you weren’t about to have the most mind blowing orgasm. Argyle had to calm himself down. He was straining against his pants and needed to calm the erection. You smoothed out the dress and pushed your hair out of the way. Argyle, on the other hand, was still trying to fight off the boner. 

“Honey?” Your mom calls out from the kitchen. 

“Yeah?” 

“Your father and I picked something up for dinner, we know Argyle is here so come out when you’re ready to eat.” 

When you’re ready to eat? You thought. Does that mean you could—

“Come out now.” Your father bellows through the house. Gingerly the two of you exit the room. Argyle, now boner free, was able to calmly leave the room. You slowly make it to the dining room table and take a seat. 

“Nice to see you two,” your mother says as she sets dinner plates down “ we noticed the van, so Argyle, you are not leaving until you eat.” 

“I was bout to eat a cookie, actually.” Argyle huffs causing you to wide-eyed. You slap his arm playfully and all he could do was laugh. You both sat down at the table as the food was being placed, ready to eat. 

__________________________

You all finished eating, your dad made it way to the living room, sipping on a beer while your mother aimlessly watched the tv with your father. You and Argyle make it back to your room silently. Your parents could trust you right now. Before you could close the door behind, your hands were tangling into each other, lips attached. Argyle needed you more than ever. He sank to the floor onto his knees and lifted the bottom of the dress and put it over him. His face was so close to your cunt, the feeling of his breath instantly caused you to shudder. He takes in a sniff and moans. He could simply get drunk off of the smell. You knew better than to have sex right infront of a closed door, but you needed this. 

He started to suck on your clit, slowly. You were still wet from the activity from before replaying in your head. You could feel Argyle's hair flow gently onto your legs, sticking to your legs as the two of  you got hotter. 

“Argyle, your hair.” You moan out. It didn’t seem as if he could hear. The only thing he could hear was the wet noises of your juices as he kept on licking for more. This time, you pushed the loose fabric to the side and tapped his head softly. He looked up, eyes filled with lust. You moan at the sight of him between your legs, his eyes foggy with lust. 

 “Babe, your hair is in the way.” 

Argyle thought quickly and grabbed a hair tie that was on your dresser. He swiftly pulled up his hair and was ready to dive back into you. You giggle as you make your way to the bed, you lay back opening your legs for him. Argyle swore he was about to die with the way you were looking at him. He crept his way onto the bed and dove in, licking you up. 

“Fuck, Argyle, right there.” You moan out, hopefully not too loud that your parents could hear. He wraps his arms around your legs, allowing him to reach more of you for him. The wet noises of your cunt and him sucking and licking filled the room. You couldn’t take it anymore. Soon, he slipped in a finger with ease. The two of you gasped as he entered. Argyle slowly curved his fingers, wanting to make sure you feel good. 

“That’s it, babe, you’re doing so well.” You moan out. The feeling of ecstasy was coursing through your lower region. You want to release, you need to release. 

“You feel so good, babe. Do you want to cum?” He asks. You shake your head yes as he starts to pick up the pace. You could feel yourself dripping and Argyle could see it in person. You couldn’t say yes because if you did you might shriek out in pleasure, but you nodded yes. Argyle added another finger into the pooling mess and started curving them again. This time, he attached his lips to your clit. You curl your toes and grind onto him a bit, so close to the sweet release. 

“Cum for me, please?” He begs. He kept on sucking, furrowing his eyebrows and was looking you in the eyes. The stare down you two were having was causing you to feel embarrassed, so you try your best to look away. Argyle loves watching you writhe under his touch. He feels accomplished, knowing he’s the only guy that could make you shudder in pleasure. He wants everyone to know that he’s doing this to you. You feel the familiar knot ready to be undone. Argyle did too. 

“I need this, please.” He pleads and that alone allows you to finally release. The thought of him needing you to cum for him caused you to tip over. Your toes curl as you try to go down from your high. The newly bought dress was sweaty and drenched in your own wetness. You pull Argyle up to you, kissing him and tasting you on him. 

“Do you want me to help you?” You ask genuinely. Wanting to have him in you right now. 

“Nah, don’t sweat it,” He says laying next to you “, I came in my pants like a loser when you said I was doing good.” 

You look down to see the wet spot on his pants. You’re amazed at how what you said caused him to be cum in his own pants. Luckily, you have a stash of his clothes for when he would sleep over. You tried to go to the bathroom as discreetly as possible but couldn’t hear your parents in the living room. Instead, you see a note taped on the door for you to read. 

“Your father and I headed to the bar, so please do not die or get pregnant. Love mom”

[viktorstittytank]

Girls night (NSFW)

Everyone’s reaction to reader coming back from a girls night tipsy and horny

I thought this idea was wayyy too funny

18+ minors DNI

Mel

Probably was at the girl’s night with you.

If you smack Mel you’re losing access to your hands and they will be pinned.

She completely understands getting caught up in the moment but she isn’t the one to slap. It’ll just be used as an excuse to steal your soul.

This girls got gadgets you’ve never even heard of and they’re all gonna be working at their highest setting tonight.

Accidentally traumatizing Jayce and waking up to enough noise complaints you could swim in them.

Vi:

At first she’s a pouty puppy. Hasn’t even noticed that you’re tipsy and hella horny. She’s too caught up in feeling bad for herself that you left her at home to spend time with your girls.

She has to get a good look at you before she realizes what’s going on and smirks.

Handsy, hot and bothered, she’s liking this side of you.

But then her pants are coming off, and wow you taste like hard liquor and when did you get her top off?

As soon as she realizes you’re moving a little too fast for her she panics.

Locked herself in the bathroom and sat in the tub till you passed out by the door.

Viktor:

At first he’s excited to see you. He’s ready to hear about all the places you’ve been and what you guys talked about until he sees this carnivores look in your eye he’s never seen before.

You pretty much jump his bones.

You’re going to break the man. You’re squishing his face and he’s fighting to breathe while you’re having some of the best sex the two of you have ever had.

Moans in confused and a little scared cus what the fuck is going on.

He’s half out of his mind while you’re bouncing on him and only really comes back to earth once the two of you are done.

Littered in bite marks and can’t look you in the eye in the morning. Doesn’t even know who you are anymore. This is going in his journal.

Sevika:

Babes can do more than handle you. You’ve met your match with this one. She doesn’t really care if you’re gripping her hair hard if anything it makes her work harder.

Bite her she’ll bite back harder.

She’s gonna chuckle into your mound while you grind yourself against her face. Usually you’d never even think about sitting on her face because you’ve said it before you’re too scared you’ll suffocate her. It’s hard to believe the words ever left your mouth at the sight of the two of you.

When the strap comes out if you get wild she’s just gonna enjoy the show. Completely ignores you when you try smacking her. Only really cares about the faces you’re making cus you look cute.

Sevika can take a couple of hits this is a piece of cake.

Silco:

Someone missed you while you were gone as much as he hates to say it. He tried distracting himself with work but couldn’t help thinking about you and how cold you’d left his presence.

He waits for you at the door so once you come stumbling in he’s getting mowed down immediately.

Congratulations you’ve caught the king off guard and wow this is definitely a new position, have you always been this flexible? What are you doing to his body?

____

@thesinoflust1103 @htmlbitxh @redflamesbaku @illicittete @mochi-clouds @bilesxbilinskixlahey @sparrow-rise @freementallyillkid @just-a-sewer-goblin

[crowhyun]

MY PET BLOODSUCKER

vampire!soobin x witch!reader

— One of the most dangerous beings to society was a new vampire. Filled with an uncontrollable lust for blood and a new strength that rivaled that of 100 men, they were the average human’s nightmare. But not for you. What was meant to be a normal summer ended up with you having to care for a new vampire that just couldn’t keep his teeth to himself.

genre: smut, fluff, very minor angst, some crack

warnings: blood, blood sucking, soobin cries during sex lmao, piv sex, unprotected sex, soobin is very rough, overstimulation, kind of enemies to lovers, wall sex, kitchen sex, soobin and (Y/N) aren’t rlly in their right minds when they fuck but it’s okay in the end, severe bloodlust (lord), soobin is a real cutie pie

words: 9.8k (not edited)

Your house was an old one. It settled into the grass on the plot of an old neighborhood full of people who were aged and their nosy cats. The house once belonged to your grandmother before she passed, leaving it in your name. You had been living in it for two years, now, and you were sure that you had unlocked every quirky little mystery this house hid. Secret rooms, locked doors, an attic full of Knick-knacks and pictures from over the years. You had eventually began to grow a connection to the house despite how creepy it may have seemed, especially at night. You'd ignore when the floor boards would creak and when the wind would sound too human-like. It was something you had to get used to, which was what you quickly learned.

    The first day of your summer break had started, yet the house still groaned every night as if it were stuck in the middle of a brittle winter. It was like the house was alive and you knew it very well. You felt safe hidden in its walls and when you laid underneath its roof. Despite your family's history of witches and wizards, you kept your magic away from this house. Although it had magic riddled deep in its bones, you felt that maybe it needed a break. Maybe the creaking of the house was it finally being able to rest.

    That's why it was such an anomaly when you woke up to the silence of the house. It was in the middle of the night, a time where you'd never suddenly wake up at. You didn't hear the voices of the wood or the creak of the foundation, and the darkness that seeped into the crack of your door was too silent for comfort. Something wasn't right. It was as if the house was alarming you of its discomfort.

    You had the right mind to ignore whatever it was and to just go back to sleep, but the chill down your spine told you not to. You had to at least check and see if everything was alright. A burglar could've found their way into your house, in which ignoring it could be dangerous. Despite not wanting to use your magic, you felt a spark down your dominant arm, ready to end a poor souls life. But...that would cause much suspicion in the neighborhood. You needed something...human.

    You slipped out of bed, your feet light on the wooded floors as you made your way to your closet, opening the doors and grabbing a bat that rested in the corner. With the bat held tightly in your hand, your wrapped your fingers around the edge of your bedroom door, slowly opening it to reveal more of the dark hallway. Although it didn't help, your held your eyes wide open as if to see through the darkness.

    The house was still as silent as ever, and you gulped as you slowly made your way downstairs. So far, it didn't seem like anyone was inside of your house, but you remained careful.

    Just as you had gotten to the last step, you heard a soft, but noticeable, creak of the wood floors. You froze, knowing for sure that it wasn't you. You knew deep down that it wasn't the sound of the house settling even further, and there was, in fact, someone in your house.

    Have you forgotten to lock the front door?

    You stood, frozen, as you tried to hear anymore sounds. Looking around in the darkness, you saw nothing but the silhouette of your furniture against the moonlight shining through the windows. You completely stepped down the stairs, head whipping back and forth, just so you wouldn't miss anything. Just as you were about the enter the kitchen in search of the intruder, you had caught eye of something unfamiliar. It was a new silhouette against your window, a tall and dark one. You couldn't tell what it was, due to the darkness, and because it was so still. But it couldnt have been a forgotten piece of furniture, no. You would've known what it was.

    Near the top of the silhouette, you now noticed something peculiar. This silhouette was no piece of furniture. It was a person, and obviously not a normal one, because their eyes were glowing an eerie red.

    Before you could even react, before you could even question it, the person had charged towards you with an unimaginable speed, and you found yourself in their arms. As romantic as it sounded, there was nothing romantic about the sudden sharp pain that you felt in your neck, as if you were being stabbed with a thousand needles. You couldn't even scream in pain, and you couldn't fight it.

    You quickly grew light headed, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the perpetrator held you in their arms as you slowly began to lose consciousness, stumbling to the floor as everything went black.

—————————————————

You feel as if you had flew back thirty minutes prior as you woke up in your bed to a silent house once again. The only difference was that there was a searing pain on the left side of your neck, keeping you from moving your head at all. Cringing in pain, you gently touched the wound there, seeing that dried blood was on your fingers.

"What the hell..." You whispered to yourself. Enough context clues could give you an idea to what had happened, but the rationality that grew with you since childhood disproved the fact that they're real. They, meaning...vampires. But how could a vampire get in your house? If they're like what the stories say, they need an invitation to enter other people's homes...

Due to how silent the house seemed, you guessed that they were still here. Ignoring the pain in your neck and the fear settling in your bones, you made your way out of bed. Then you stopped.

You were in bed? Did they put you here? Why wouldn't they just leave you downstairs on the floor? It was peculiar to say the least, and for some reason, it scared you even more.

Now, your bat wasn't in your closet, and you had nothing to protect yourself with. Walking out of the bedroom as quietly as you could, you looked over the banister of by the stairway, looking to the bottom of the stairs. It was still dark, so you could barely see anything, but you could see the gleam of metal at the bottom of the stairs, the neglected bat reflecting the moonlight.

You bit your lip, cringing once more at the throbbing pain on your neck. Shaking it off, you tiptoes down the stairs, being extra careful this time. The vampire was insanely quiet the first time you had come downstairs. Once you were at the bottom of the stairs, you bent don to grab the bat. You wondered if you'd be able to knock a vampire out...

Just as you were about to grab the bat, you heard a bang from inside the basement. You froze, listening out of you could hear more. You then heard rustling and other noises. They were definitely down there, doing something. You grabbed the bat, quickly moving as the rustling sounds got louder and more frantic. Due to the noise, you were able to move faster, the vampire most likely not able to hear you.

Once you were halfway down the steps, the vampire was finally in your sight. You had to bend down a bit to see what was going on, but you saw them.

It was a man, a tall one at that, who seemed to be rummaging in the boxes of junk you had sprawled about in the dark basement. You couldn't even fathom a reason for why he was doing it, much less on why he was doing it with so much fervor. You didn't want to stick around and find out why, so you tiptoed down the stairs, holding your bat with a tight grip. Keeping an eye on him, he didn't seem to notice that you were right behind him, neither did he notice you raising your bat.

Please let it be possible that vampires can be knocked out, you thought. With all of the strength you could muster up, you swung the bat down right on his head, no doubt strong enough to give anyone a major concussion. Immediately, he fell to the ground, as lifeless as he wouldn't be if he wasn't a vampire.

"Holy shit..." You breathed out, shoulders high and tense. Looking down at him, you noticed how young he looked, and in all honesty, he didn't look threatening at all. You felt a tinge of worry, wondering if he wasn't a vampire after all, and you might've just killed him.

Edging closer to the man, you bent down to see if he was breathing. He was completely still. That didn't tell you much, though, as he could be dead or...the undead.

Looking around the basement, you searched for somewhere to put him. You rarely went inside of the basement due to how cold and stuffy it was, and because it was unfinished.

The basement consisted of two rooms. The first is where your junk was, and the other was an empty room that you were too scared to go in. It was small and dark, and it's heavy door had an open lock on it and a barred window. It just felt...as if it was a prison cell.

Which was why it was the best place to drag the vampire into. Maybe you could keep him in there and question him on how the hell he got into your house, and at the same time, you could keep him at a safe distance from yourself.

He was much heavier than you thought he was, but you guessed that came from his height. He was still unconscious but you guessed that it wouldn't be for long.

You eventually dragged him into the room, and you quickly locked the door once you left. Looking into the window, he wasn't awake yet, thank goodness. For extra security, you put a spell on the door, hoping that it worked. Your magic was rusty, so you were unsure.

Despite the early morning hour and your tired eyes, you fought sleep, not wanting to succumb to it while there was danger in your house. Still, though, the pain from you neck didn't go away. You thought it wouldnt be too bad to go back up stairs for a second and patch it up so it didn't get infected. Looking once more through the window, you hurried upstairs to your bathroom, where your first aid kit was held. You cleaned and patched the wound up in record time so that you didn't stay too long from the vampire.

Once you were back in the basement, you looked through the bars of the window, but your heart stopped once you noticed that he was no longer in there. The room was empty, as far as you could see, since the corners were so dark that you didn't know what was there.

"Shit..." You whispered to yourself, shoulders tense as you were on edge again. Suddenly, two large hands grabbed the rusted metal bars from inside of the room and you screamed as his face had come into view like a jump scare.

"Get me out."

You backed up from the window as far as you could, going to the other side of the room. You didn't know why you were so scared, mainly because he was behind a locked door. You guessed that despite whatever vampire strength he had, he couldn't get himself out. Maybe the spell really did work. That should be enough to keep you safe.

    He held onto the bars tightly, trying to wiggle them to see how strong they were and then he looked at you with finery red eyes.

    "What are you doing? Let me out!" He frowned. "Why did you put me in here?"

    "W-why are you in my house?" You asked him. He didn't say anything for a second.

    "This...is your house?"

    "Uh, yeah." You looked at him as if he had a problem, which...he technically did. Being a vampire was no normal thing. "I've been living here for the past two years."

    "Oh." He said. "Well, if you let me out of here, I'll leave."

    "No!" You said. "Not after you bit me. Besides, how do you even have access to my house? How did you get in?"

    "T-through the door..." He said quietly. "Who are you?"

    "Who are you?" You were so confused right now. He didn't have the right to ask you questions while he was intruding in your house at this ungodly hour.

    "Are you sure this is your house?" He asked you.

    "What do you mean 'am I sure'?" You scoffed. "Who are you to be asking me these questions?"

    "Look, the only reason I'm able to be here was because I was invited here." He said. "And you did not invite me. As a matter of fact, I do not know who you are."

    "Well, shit, I don't know who you are either." You couldnt believe you were having this conversation with a vampire right now. There must've been something that you didn't know.

    "Where is Elise?" He asked out of the blue. "Miss Elise. The nice witch lady."

    "Elise?" Your eyes widened. "Elise (Y/L/N), the woman that lived here before me?"

    "Yes, her." He said. "Did she move out?"

    "Elise (Y/L/N) is my grandma, and she's been dead for two years."

    "D-dead?" He stuttered, mouth agape. He loosened his grip on the bars and looked down at the floor. He muttered some words to himself, low enough that you couldn't hear.

    "Are...you okay?" You asked him, suddenly feeling worried.

    "Miss Elise...she told me to come back whenever I needed anything..."

    Now you were definitely lost. This vampire somehow knew your grandma, and based of what he was saying, they were pretty well aquainted with each other.

    "So, that's the reason you're here?" You asked him. He nodded. "Then why the fuck did you bite me!?"

    "Bitch, I was hungry!" He yelled back, making you recoil. Did he just call you a bitch? "That's why I'm here, because I was hungry and I thought that Miss Elise would have some blood bags or something-"

    "Why would my grandma have any blood bags?" You squinted your eyes at him.

    "What? Did you really not know?" He asked, then sighed. "Miss Elise was my caregiver when I was younger. I didn't have parents...well...I did, but I didn't know them. So she took care of me. But I wasn't the only one. She took care of children that were vampires, and she always had blood bags for them. I wasn't a vampire at the time, so it didn't matter..." He paused. "I recently turned...like a week ago, and I'm still getting used to being a vampire. I thought that Miss Elise would help me out, but I guess that's not possible."

    Now you felt sorry for him. Your grandma had never told the family about her caring for children, much less, vampires. She had always been a secretive lady, and she never invited people over, always being the visiting guest. You guessed that this was why.

    "What's your name?" You asked him.

    "Uh, S-Soobin. Choi Soobin."

    "I'm (Y/N)." You said. "Do you have anywhere else to go?"

    "No...not really." He said as if he was embarrassed. "I decided to drop out of college when I turned, so I can't go back on campus."

    "You can stay here if you want." You didn't exactly feel sure about him staying here, but you felt so sorry for him. He didn't seem like a bad guy, and he had nowhere to go. This is where he once felt safe, so you shouldn't take that away from him. But...he was still a vampire. He was a threat to you. You were surprised that you weren't already dead from when he bit you. "But you'll have to stay in there for a bit...before I can trust you."

    "What about when I'm hungry?" He asked.

    "I'll figure that out."

    "What about when I'm lonely?"

    "Uh...I'll figure that out too."

————————————————————

    "You know this is illegal, right?" Your friend asked you, handing you the black duffel bag. She looked worried as she tugged on the bottom of her scrubs.

    "I have a vampire in my basement, Sooyoung." You told her. "Crime is the least of my worries. Besides, I'm paying you. You could either keep the money, or give it to the hospital in exchange for the missing blood bags."

    "I guess." She said. "I have to go. I can't be gone for too long."

    "Okay." You gave her a smile. "I might be back for more, soon. I don't exactly know how this works." You gave her your goodbyes and went back inside your car, placing the duffel bag on the passenger seat. You unzipped it, looking inside to make sure everything was still alright. Inside of the duffel bag where numerous bags of fresh blood, hopefully enough to keep Soobin situated for a few weeks or so.

    You drove back home quickly, still anxious about whether or not Soobin could escape from the room in the basement. Surprisingly, you weren't really afraid of the danger of him escaping, your were more afraid of him being gone. He scared you at first, but in all honesty, he seemed harmless. If your grandma raised him, then he had to be a good person.

"Soobin?" You quietly called out to him, having arrived back at your home. Walking don the basement, you heard nothing but silence, and your felt your heart rate spike up. You called out to him again, walking closer to the door. "I've got something for you."

Once again, he scared you, his hands aggressively coming up to the bars before showing his face. "What is it?" He asked, eyes wide. You held back the urge to scowl at him for scaring you, instead opening the bag and pulling out a bag of blood. He suddenly jiggled the bars on the door, as if he was a feral dog who saw meat for the first time in a while. "Give me that."

"Did my grandma never teach you to say please?" You scoffed, then carefully handed him the bag through the bars, just so he wouldnt rip your hand off. You watched as he tore the plastic open with his teeth, drinking as much blood as he could so it wouldn't spill.

"Do you have another one?" He asked, blood covering the lower half of his face, and eyes dark in lust for more.

"Yes, but I'm not giving you it." You said. "You would have been one if you didn't rip open the bag like that. There's literally a nozzle for steady blood flow."

"What? Why?" He whined. "You got them for me, right?"

"Duh," You scoffed. "But you've got to ration. I've got enough for two weeks if you take one a day."

"One a day?!" He exclaimed. "That's not nearly enough for me!"

"I think it's for your own good." You said. "You said you were only turned about a week ago, right? Well, you need o learn self control so that you don't go around biting people just because you feel a little bit of hunger."

"Are you saying that it was just a little bit of hunger when I bit you?" He scoffed. "You're so careless..."

"Look...I'm not my grandma, Soobin." You said. "First of all, you broke into my house. I know that I locked my doors. Second of all, you hurt me. My grandma may have trusted you, but I don't. You better be glad that you're still here."

He looked down, almost appearing like a hurt puppy. That was enough to show you that your grandma probably spoiled him to death.

"I'm putting these in my fridge." You said. "You won't get another one until tomorrow."

"Wait-" Soobin said and you raised your brows. "Can...can you warm it up before you give it to me? I don't really like cold bl-"

"No."

—————————————————————

"(Y/N)!" The faint sound of Soobin call in your name woke you up. "(Y/N)!!"

"What the fuck...?" You frowned, squinted eyes getting used to the sunlight.

"(Y/N)!!!!"

"Oh my fucking gosh." You quickly got up from your bed, putting on your slippers, and stumbling out of your room, barely able to walk in a straight line. You stomped your way down two flights of stairs until you were met with Soobin holding on to the bars again. "What?!"

"Hi." He greeted you. "It's tomorrow, right? I can't really tell since I've been locked in a basement of a dungeon with no light. But if it's tomorrow, can I have my blood bag. You promised you'd give it to me."

You looked at him in disbelief for a few seconds. "You woke me up at 7 in the morning for a blood bag?"

"In my defense, I didn't know it was 7." He shrugged. "Also, I think I still have blood on my face. Can you wash it off?"

You were too tired to care about anything at this point. You released the spell on the door, unlocking it and opening it, but Soobin just stood there, eyes wide and shoulders high.

"A-are...you a witch?"

"No, it's just that my grandma, mom, and aunties are witches, but it skipped me of course." You said sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

"S-so, that m-means you could k-kill me?" He stuttered, still not budging.

"I try to refrain from using my magic." You said. "But I will use it if you don't take this chance to get out."

"Oh-" He stepped out as if he was scared to, keeping a good distance away from you. You walked up the stairs, still tired from waking up only ten minutes ago. You heard him follow you, steps surprisingly light for someone as tall as he was. He followed you to your kitchen where you wetted a rag under the tap.

"Stay still." You said as you grabbed his face and started to wipe the dried blood off. His blood—someone's blood—rushed to his ears, making them bright red. You fought the urge to laugh. Your face was only a few inches away from his, and he got this flustered from it?

Once you were done wiping his face clean, you rinsed off the rag and got a blood bag from the fridge, handing it to him.

"Can I wait until it's room temperature?" He asked.

"Do you really want to wait that long?" He replied.

"No." He said, then he took the bag.

"Remember not to rip it open and spill it." You said. "Especially not on these old floors, it'll soak right in."

"Oh...right." He said, twisting open the nozzle and drinking from there. You watched him down it in less than thirty seconds, his brows furrowed in concentration. After he was done, he set it down on the counter. "That was horrible. I told you I don't like cold blood."

"Would you like no blood?" You asked him. "Or would you like to be without a home again?"

"Nevermind..." He said.

"That's what I throught." You said. "It's time for you to go back-"

"Huh?" His eyes went wide. "You're putting me back there? That's inhumane!"

"I don't trust you enough to have you roaming around freely." You said.

"But it's not like I bit you while I was out." He whined. "I didn't do anything bad!"

"That's great, Soobin, but you have to understand." You said. "You don't have much self control, and I don't want to risk it. I'll see if I can trust you after a few more days, but for now, you have to go back."

"I understand." He said, looking dejected as ever. "Could I at least have a book while I'm locked away?"

"Sure." You said with a roll of your eyes. Yeah, you felt a bit sorry for him, but you'd feel sorry for yourself if you let him hurt you again. He could kill you at this point. You locked him back into the room, handing him a random book you had. "I'm going back to sleep. Don't wake me up again."

——————————————————————

A week had passed of Soobin being under your care, and although you thought it would be dangerous, it really wasn't. You didn't fear him biting you again, and he wasn't too out of control.

Because of this, you let him out more, only keeping him in the basement at night time. You did feel even more sorry about that. Vampires were active during the night, and slept during the day. Maybe you were being too hard on him.

It was reaching the early morning times when you stayed up with Soobin, playing a game with him like he requested. If he was living here, you might a well be on friendly terms with him.

"Stop buying each property you land on." You told him. "Have you never played monopoly before?"

"No." He said. "I grew up in a house with 12 other kids and an old lady, do you think we ever thought to play monopoly?"

"Oh, right." You said. "About that...did you ever meet any of the family? And where's all of the other kids you knew?"

"I only knew about Miss Elise." He said. "Everyone else is...somewhere, I guess. As we grew up, they kind of ignored me and went their own ways."

You nodded your head, humming. "How old are you, by the way?"

"26." He said, then laughed humorlessly. "Gonna be 26 forever." You tilted your head, confused. "That didnt sound happy. Do you not want to be a vampire?"

"Not really." He said. "When I got turned, I wanted to be, but now...not so much. I don't like having to drink blood and te uncontrollable urge to do so. I also used to sleep a lot, but now, I can't really sleep that much. And when I do sleep, I don't have dreams anymore. I'd does feel like I really dead. Being super fast and strong is cool, though."

"That's understandable." You nodded. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're doing good. For such a young vampire, you're controlling yourself very well."

"R-really?" He asked quietly, cheeks going red and a bashful smile appearing on his face.

"Really." You smiled back. "But, if you haven't noticed yet...you're bankrupt."

"Wha-"

———————————————

You woke up in the middle of the night, hearing rumbling coming from downstairs. This wasn't normal. You listened out for a few seconds, the rumbling stopping for a bit and then starting again. You felt anxious, almost as if it was the night you discovered Soobin for the first time. You got up from your bed, quietly stepping out and going downstairs. Before you even got to the first floor, you noticed the light from the fridge shining throughout the kitchen. Frowning, you went to explore.

Once you stepped into the kitchen, you saw the large body of Soobin in the fridge, and multiple empty blood bags scattered on the floor around him

"Soobin?" You called out to him, trying to keep your anger from bursting out of the seams. He froze, slowly turning around to see you there. "What are you doing?"

The half empty bag of blood dropped from his hands, spilling onto the floor. "(Y/N)...it's...it's not what it looks like-"

"Are you sure?" You tilted your head. "Because it looks like you're taking more than what I said you could take."

He looked everywhere but at you. "P-please don't get mad, I w-was just r-really hungry, and I c-couldn't control myself, I won't t-take anymore, I swear-"

"Do you know how much I go though to get those bags for you?" You asked him. "It's not an easy thing, Soobin."

"I know, and I'm sorry!" He said. "I really didn't mean to-"

You didn't want to hear another word of it, and you put a spell on him, watching him pass out immediately. You weren't as much angry as you were annoyed. You thought that he was doing perfectly and that you could trust him more, but you guessed that you were wrong.

Just like you did before, you dragged him down to the room in the basement, shutting and locking the door. You reversed your spell on him, and he woke up confused. Once he noticed where he was, he quickly got up and went to the window.

"(Y/N), why did you put me in here?" He frowned. "Let me out. You know I don't like it in here."

"Is that right? Well, I would've thought otherwise." You said. "I specifically told you that you could only have one blood bag a day. Don't act surprised that you're in there."

"But it was one mistake." He argued. "Didn't you say that I was doing good? Didn't you?"

"I said that because you were being good. This isn't just once mistake." You said. "Now that nearly all the blood bags are gone, you're not going to be able to have any for a while. You did this to yourself. And don't expect me to let you out, tomorrow." With that, you went back upstairs, ignoring Soobin's defeated whimper. You cleaned up the blood bags and the spilled blood, cursing to yourself because of the blood already seeping into the old wood. "Damn you, Soobin..."

————————————

"My teeth hurt..." Soobin said to you the moment you walked down to the basement.

"Maybe they're sensitive from all that cold blood you consumed." You said.

"You're still mad about that?" He sighed. "That was two weeks ago. And I haven't had blood in a while since then, but look at me! I'm perfectly fine."

"Mhm, right." You said before dropping the black duffle bag full of blood down in front of the door. "Well let's see how much you can control yourself now. I'm not allowing you to touch these for another week."

"Another week?!" He repeated, baffled out of his mind.

"I thought you were perfectly fine." You pouted. "You can be perfectly fine or another week, right?" You unlocked and opened the door to the room, but he grabbed the bars, closing it on him.

"Don't let me out." He said. "Just keep me in here until the week is over."

"No, that defeats the whole purpose." You scoffed, opening the door again. "Come out, or it'll be two weeks."

That got him quick. He came out, fists by his side, trying not to look at the duffle bag. You stifled your laughter at his bewildered look. He was, in fact, not perfectly fine.

Once you both were upstairs, he sat stiffly on the couch, his eyes not once looking into the kitchen. You sat beside him, looking at him innocently.

"What's wrong, Soobin?" You asked him. "You seem...tense."

"Get away from me." He said. "I might suck your blood."

"No you wont." You laughed. "You're perfectly fine."

"I lied. I'm not perfectly fine." He said. "Just put me back in the dungeon, please."

"No. You've already had your punishment, and it's inhumane, right?" You smiled. "So here you are, out of the 'dungeon'. Ah, also, I think I might have something for your teeth hurting." You got up, retrieving this random piece of wood that had broken off one of your counter shelves. You were planning on fixing it a while ago, but procrastinating on that made you get used to it not being there anymore.

"...wood?" Soobin asked once you handed it to him.

"Yeah." You said. "I figured your teeth were hurting because you hadn't bitten into anything in a while. Maybe biting into that would help."

He looked at you confused, but nonetheless bit into the wood.

"Maybe it'll also distract you from the blood." You said, patting his shoulder. He turned to look at you slowly.

"I was distracted until you said that..."

"Oh...oops?"

——————————————————

You didn't know what had gotten into you, but as you watched Soobin chew on the wood from the kitchen, you felt slightly endeared. He was watching TV, and he kept busy with the wood, chewing holes into every piece of it. You were glad he wasn't too worked up about the blood, but you worried about the rest of the day. You weren't planning to lock him in the basement this time, hoping that he had the self control to not rummage in the fridge again. It was a high expectation, hopefully one he could fulfill...

You found yourself smiling at him, not noticing how used to him you've gotten. He was very peculiar in the least, but you guessed that was mainly because of him being a vampire. You found yourself wondering what he was like when he was a human. It was weird to know that the two of you were always in such close proximity without knowing it. Maybe it was fate.

Soobin felt that your eyes were on him, and he turned to look at you, eyes wide. For some reason, lost in your daze, you hadn't exactly noticed how he was looking at you. All you noticed was his red eyes, and how they didn't seem so weird anymore. You snapped back into reality once he smiled at you, and you didn't even think to return the smile. Instead, you looked down at your hands, picking at your nails as if you were busy. Honestly, you were embarrassed to get caught looking at the handsome vampire with boyish charm.

Unknown to you, Soobin's smile dropped, feeling that he had been the reason for the extremely awkward exchange. He thought that maybe...something was happening. If you were embarrassed, he was even more so.

The exchange was forgotten hours later, when you sat next to him, your eyelids drooping. It wasn't even approaching nighttime, but you were already tired, your sleep pattern all over the place. Sometimes, Soobin stayed up with you during the day, and sometimes, you stayed up with him during the night. Weirdly enough, though, you newly discovered that you had acclimated to being awake during the night.

"Are you tired?" Soobin asked, and you jolted, fully awake from the sound of his soft, deep voice.

"No, no, I'm just...this channel is boring." You said.

"But I thought you liked those crime shows?" Soobin pouted, biting his wood and furrowing his eyebrows. "Are you sure you're not tired?"

You sighed, rubbing your tired eyes. "I'm a bit tired." You said, then you looked at him. He'd be fine on his own, right? "I'm going to bed." You got up and started your way towards the stairs, not expecting him to get up and follow you.

"Wait, r-really?" He asked, following you up the stairs.

"Yeah?" You looked at him confused. "Only for a few hours. It's summertime, anyways. I don't need to have the perfect sleep schedule."

"Oh...okay." He said, watching you get into your bed from your doorframe. He stood there awkwardly as you got comfortable. You then noticed his presence and you lifted a brow.

"...what are you doing?" You asked him.

"Uh...aren't you going to put me in the basement?" He asked.

"Why should I?"

"You're leaving me alone." He said. "I don't trust myself alone. Also...I'm tired, too."

"You need to learn to trust yourself." You sighed. "You can sleep on the couch or something, I'm sure you'll be fine."

"C-can I..." He paused, looking down at his hands. You patiently waited for him to resume. "Can I sleep in here? On your bed?"

"...huh?" You were caught off guard by the question.

"O-only for today." He said. "Just for extra precaution and everything. And the couch isn't really big enough for me."

You paused, thinking it over. He seemed to be controlling himself more, but you had to think about it. Sleeping downstairs where the cold blood bags are mere feet away from him, or sleeping in the same bed as you...technically a warm and fresh blood bag. Well, he hasn't been much of a danger to you ever since that day. You could trust him...right.

"I guess you can." You said.

"Really?" His eyes lit up.

"Yeah." You chuckled. "Stay a foot away from me, though. If you bite me, I'll have your head, understand?"

"Yep!" He said happily, as if he didnt just hear what you said. He ran over and jumped into your bed, making sure to be on the complete other end of the mattress. You rolled your eyes, but you were grateful. Looking at him once more, you fully laid down and closed your eyes.

"Only for a few hours." You told him again. "Wake me up if I've slept for more than five."

"Okay..." Soobin said, trying not to watch you doze off. He laid down stiffly on his back with his hands by his side. Every now and then, his eyes would flicker over to your sleeping figure, wondering how you had fallen asleep so fast. Even as a vampire, he still struggled with insomnia. The sunlight dripping from your closed curtains made it a bit harder for him to sleep. He couldn't sleep in total darkness, which he found weird and unusual. He sun made him tired but the moon made him wide awake. Sometimes, he wishes that he was normal again. That he was human.

You were human. A peculiar once, of course, due to the fact that you were a witch. It was even more peculiar that you rarely ever seemed to take advantage of that fact. You weren't a normal human, but you were able to act like one. You were able to eat good food, sleep once the moon was up, and breathe in fresh air every day. Soobin envied you. That's what he though it was. Envy. Though it never really dawned on him how thin the line was between envy and admiration. or the even thinner line between admiration and infatuation.

———————————————

A few days later, while you were sleeping, Soobin decided to stay up to watch a show that he'd been interested for a while now. He was a little on edge, due to the fact that he was alone downstairs, and he hadn't been in the basement in a while. He found himself looking at the kitchen multiple times, distracted from his show that he swore he liked.

Getting up slowly, he walked over into the kitchen, right in front of the refrigerator. His eyes glowed into a deeper red, and he felt his canines start to sharpen in need for blood. He slowly put his hand on the handle on the fridge, but he froze. He was fighting a battle within himself. He knew that if he opened the door and saw the blood bags sitting there, he wouldn't be able to help himself. And that was wrong. You'd wake up, see him in a frenzy again, and then the both of you would have to start from square one again, and he didn't want that. You were gaining his trust, and he was able to get closer to you because of that.

He quickly took his hand off of the handle, muscles flexing with resistance. He then noticed his piece of wood sitting on the counter, almost as if it was waiting for him. He grabbed the piece of wood with fervor, biting into it with his sharpened canines. He walked back to the couch, furiously biting into the wood to calm down. Weirdly enough, this worked for him. It soothed the pain of unfulfilled bloodlust, even if it was for a short time.

After a bit had past, and he had calmed down, he noticed how tired he had gotten. Watching TV for so long made him tired, and he wondered if you were still sound asleep. Leaving the piece of wood on the coffee table, he made his way upstairs and into your room.

Silently peeking in, he noticed that you indeed were still asleep. A few days ago was supposed to be the only day he'd sleep in the same bed as you, but since then, you didn't seem to mind him doing it again, and yet again. So, he climbed into bed next to you, careful not to wake you up, but you were so deep in sleep that he didn't think it would be a problem.

Like usual, he stared at your sleeping form even though he was quite tired. He really couldn't help himself. You looked so peaceful and carefree, as if your trust in him was much more than he thought.

"(Y/N)..." He whispered. "You won't know...but I almost broke your trust. I almost lost control. I really wanted blood today, but I stopped myself. You might get mad at me for that, but what matters is that I gained control back, right? I did good, right? I'd imagine you'd say yes..." He sighed. He liked when you were proud of him. It was like a present. Every time he did something good, he found it to be the best part of his day to see you smile. Those lips that were usually set in a straight line or even frowning, he began to appreciate the rarity in which you'd genuinely smile. That thought prompted him to stare at your lips. They were slightly parted as you slept, relaxed and plump, perfect, as if they've never been injured or bit.

He didn't notice as he started to lean closer to you, as he was too mesmerized by your sleeping beauty. There was something so comforting about the warmth radiating off of your body that drew him closer to you, until his face hovered over yours. Even if you were awake with just your eyes closed, you wouldn't even be able to feel how just close he was to you. But you would be able to feel his cold lips softly pressing into yours.

And that you did feel.

But you didn't open your eyes. You didn't tell Soobin that you were awake. You embraced his lips on yours for a couple seconds more before he pulled away.

Soobin couldnt believe it. He couldn't believe that he had just done that. That as inappropriate. It was wrong. But...it felt good. It warmed him up some, it made him feel alive again. In more search for your warmth, he hesitatingly wrapped his arm around your side, pulling you closer to him in a close embrace. He didn't care if you woke up at this moment. You'd either push him away or stay where you were. It didn't matter.

He nuzzled his head into your neck, feeling all of the warmth you had to offer. This was better than any of those cold blood bags. Although he could hear your blood rushing through you, it didn't set him off. What he craved wasn't blood. It was to feel human again. And being this close to you was the closest to that than he would ever be.

——————————————————

You checked the refrigerator, seeing that there was still the same amount of blood bags in there that there was before. Soobin must've really headed your warnings. You felt a bit sorry for him. He was more tired nowadays, more sluggish and not as energetic as he was before. Sure, this arrangement wasn't healthy, but it sure did teach him some self control. He only had one more day until he'd be able to finally feed, but you thought that you'd give him a present for holding out for so long.

"Soobin?" You called out to him, seeing that he was still on the couch, where he had been since the day started.

"Hm?" He hummed, not even looking at you. You smiled, going over to sit next to him. He was lazily chewing on his wood, glassy eyes looking at the TV.

"Y'know...you've been holding out really well, so far." You told him. "You only have one more day. You've been doing really good."

He turned to look at you. "Really?" He asked, eyes brightening up a little.

"Really." You nodded with a smile, and he lazily smiled back. "So, I've decided to give you a little present."

"A present? What is it?" He asked curiously, words muffled by the fact that he was still chewing the corner of the wood

"Guess." You told him, feeling a bit mischievous. "I'll give you a hint. It's almost like...I'm returning it back to you."

"Hm?" He tilted his head to the side. "I've never given you anything, though? Or have I?" He furrowed his eyebrows in thought.

You rolled your eyes. "Don't think too hard, Soobin, you'll pass out."

"But I really can't think of anything?" He said. "Can you just give me it? I'm not good at this guessing game..."

"Jesus, Soobin..." You sighed, moving the wood out of his mouth. You leaned towards him, softly kidding him just like he did that night. He froze in surprise, enough to not be able to kiss you back. "Do you remember now?" You asked him, smirking at his expression.

"Y-you knew?" He asked after a few seconds.

"Yeah." You shrugged. "I was awake."

"A-and you were awake when I...I-"

"Yes, Soobin." You laughed. "Don't be so flustered. If I had a problem with it, I would've told you right away. And I definitely wouldn't have kissed you just now."

"Oh..." He chuckled nervously, and you swore he would've been blushing, but you guessed that he couldnt, as he had gone without blood for so long. "C-can you maybe do it again?" He asked.

You responded with another kiss, one that he had returned this time, except for more fervor. It was like he was waiting to kiss you again, dreaming about your lips on his. Did this mean…that you felt the same? Were you as infatuated with him as he was to you? He doubted that it was possible. All without you knowing, he might’ve fallen in love. Fallen in love with a witch, one that he was always in close proximity of. Always right around the corner but never at the same one. It only had to be fate that brought you two together.

“I really like you, (Y/N).” Soobin blurted out once you two parted.

“Do you mean that?” You asked him, slight insecurity peeking out from your otherwise hard shell. “I doubt you’ve met very much people in your life.”

“But I have.” He frowned. “And I like you. Only you. Do you…do you not feel the same? Am I m-mistaken?”

“No, Soobin, it’s not that.” You were quick to reassure him. “I do feel the same…just…don’t make me say it.” You laughed awkwardly. “Just know that I feel the same.”

“You’re not joking, right?”

“No, you fucking idiot.” You said sweetly, patting his face. “Now stop looking at me as if you like me, it’s making me nervous.”

“Really?” He giggled, eyes turning into crescent moons, looking at you as if he was even more in love.

He couldn’t understand just how much you distracted him from his bloodlust. He felt like he had the control of a 1000 year old vampire when you were there. You must’ve put a spell on him. Maybe even a few spells…

—————————————————

Soobin felt as if it was his birthday. He has held out for so long, and now was finally the day that he’d be able to drink from the blood bags again. He swore he hated the cold, unfresh blood before, but now, he was craving it.

Yet…he wasn’t going to get any until you’d tell him he could. He didn’t want to mess up again, so he was extra careful.

You knew exactly what was going on, and just to be mischievous, you acted as if you forgot about it for the whole day. It was evil, yes, but what you had for him would be worth much more than a lousy blood bag.

It was by the time night fell when Soobin finally spoke up.

“(Y/N)…” He called to you. “Did you forget?”

“Hm? Forget what?” You asked him, acting as if you knew nothing.

“Yesterday was the last day.” He said. “I can drink blood bags, now.”

“Oh- is that so?” You acted surprised. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You could’ve gotten one hours ago!”

“Seriously?” He said in disbelief. Although he was pissed he didn’t say something earlier, he was still happy that he could finally have at it. He all but ran to the fridge, opening it and then grabbing a blood bag out of it.

“Wait!” You said, snatching the bag from him.

“Huh? Why?” He whined, pouting as if he was going to cry.

“I also forgot to tell you another thing.” You said. “You know how I gave you a present yesterday, right?” You asked, placing the blood bag behind you on the counter, seeing his eyes on it.

“Yeah…”

“Well, I have another present for you!”

“Is it a kiss?” He asked. “If I kiss you, will you give me the bag?”

“Hey, don’t act like I’m the one who’s begging for kissed all the time.” You scoffed. “But, no, that’s not the present. And you’re not getting the blood bag.”

“What do you mean?” He frowned. “I thought you said I was doing good!”

“And you are! Which is why I prepared something even better!” You said and he looked at you in confusion. “Me!”

He blinked a few times, looking from your eyes to your neck and then again. “You don’t mean…”

“I do mean.” You said.

“But…but I could really hurt you!” He said. “You could even die if I go overboard!”

“Soobin…I know all of the possibilities.” You said, putting your hands on his shoulders. “That’s why I put a little spell on myself. Let’s just say that I won’t be able to die for the next 24 hours. So?” You bared your neck at him.

“A-are you sure?” He asked. “Are you sure the spell worked?”

“Nope.” You shrugged. “But I trust, you Soobin. I know you won’t kill me.”

He gulped, dark red eyes honing into the beating vein on the left side of your neck. He hesitantly bent down, nose to your neck as he took a big whiff of your sweet blood. He shut his eyes, fighting off the instinct to groan at just how good you smelled.

“Are you really sure?” He asked.

“Yes, Soobin.” You chuckled, pulling him closer to you to that your chests were touching, and Soobin grasped onto your hips so he wouldn’t lose his balance and fall onto you.

With one more seconds of hesitation, he bit into your neck with his sharp fangs, and you felt a sharp pain. Your grip on his shoulders got tighter as you tried to distract yourself from the pain.

He couldn’t stop the moans of satisfaction at the magnificent taste of your blood, and you graudally noticed that something felt weird.

You still felt the pain on the bite, but Soobin’s demeanor changed. It was almost as if he was enjoying it too much. His hands were grabby, not only on your hips, but in your waist and your bottom, and you gasped in surprise.

You started to notice what was going on when you felt how hard he was, his bulge pushing into your stomach.

“S-Soobin?” You breathed out, feeling light headed. He moaned, suddenly grinding his lower half into you. He then retracted his fangs, looking at you with wide, lust blown eyes, your blood dribbling down his chin.

“(Y/N), I’m s-sorry-“ He whined, placing you on the counter and rutting himself into you. “I’m so sorry, I-I don’t mean, to, I c-can’t help it-“ He broke out into an erotic moan, and despite out lightheaded and out of it you were, it aroused you to no end.

“It’s okay S-Soobin…” You said quietly, breathing harshly with each rough grind into you. You didn’t know that he could get this worked up from his own bloodlust, but you weren’t complaining. The only thing you had a problem with was the fact that there were too many clothes separating the both of you, but you didn’t think neither of you were in the right minds to seperate and take each article off.

“Can I be inside of you?” Soobin asked in between harsh breaths. “Please, please, please, I want to so bad-“ It was almost as if he was in pain, rutting into you so hard that you bounced on the counter each time.

You nodded your head aggressively, opening your legs wider for him. You were wearing black leggings, and you thought that they’d be quick and easy to take off, but Soobin stead decided to rip them down the middle, doing so with ease.

“Soobin…!”

“S-sorry!” He apologized over and over again, even as he released his cock from its confines, holding the thick base in between a shaky fist. He moved your panties to the side and slid in with one thrust. The both of you whined loudly at that, and he couldn’t wait any further before he started pounding into you with fervor. You heard the sound of your wet heat, but you didn’t care, mouth agape in a silent scream as he pounded into you with no remorse.

Well…some remorse. He couldn’t stop apologizing as he fucked into you, begging for you to forgive him for being so dirty and succumbing uncontrollable urges.

You yelped as he picked you up from the counter, holding you in his arms as he dropped you on his cock over and over.

“Fuck!” You cursed. “M-more, more-“ You chanted, feeling his cock deep inside of you. You saw tears start to slide down his cheeks and he cried with pleasure. You clenched around him, wanting to see him unravel even more, which made him fuck you on his cock even faster, using you like a rag doll. His vampire strength had kicked in once he drank your sweet blood, something that he was afraid he’d get addicted on since he tasted you for the first time.

He was addicted to your warmth, your lips, your blood, and especially the way your pussy just sucked him in, holding tight and never letting go

“F-fuck, baby, I’m cumming!” You moaned, your pussy convulsing around his cock and making him go crazy. You came around him, eyes rolling to the back of your head. He nearly slammed you into a wall, fucking you roughly, the slick from your cum making it easier to slide in and out of you.

You were extremely overstimulated, your abused pussy needing a break, but Soobin couldn’t stop. He let out nearly pprnographic moans as he fucked you through yet another orgasm, not even noticing exactly what you were going through.

You just had to sit there, wedged between his chilled body and the wall, taking just what he needed to give you.

“Oh fuck, (Y/N)-“ He whined, more tears spilling out of his eyes. You were out of it, dazed and cock drunk. “I’m gonna cum— ah!” He mewled out as he finally came, stilling inside of you as he filled you up. His legs shook as he shut his eyes tightly in pleasure.

After he finally calmed down, it was as if he returned to his senses. He quickly pulled out, immediately apologizing as you winced. He gently put you down, but your knees buckled, almost dropping to the floor, yet he caught you.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry-“ He said, putting his softening member back in his pants. “I can’t believe I just did that to you, I really didn’t mean to, are you okay? You can lock me in the basement for a while, I won’t get mad, I deserve it-“

“Soobin, I’m fine.” You said to him, holding onto him tightly al you wouldn’t fall. You were still a bit lightheaded, but you were able to reassure him. “I didn’t expect it, but I’m really okay.”

“You shouldn’t have let me drink from you.” He said, tears still falling. “I’ve ruined everything x how could I get so out of-“

You interrupted him with a kiss to shut him up.

“Listen, baby…” You said softly, the pet name making him calm down a bit. “You did nothing wrong. At all. I am more than fine. In fact…I really liked it.”

You watched as his ears got red. “Y-you liked…that? Did I not hurt you?”

You shook your head with a chuckle. “No. In fact…you made me feel really…really good.” You smiled, making him get even more flustered. “I’m just kind of tired. As good as you made me feel, you wore me the hell out.”

“I can carry you to your bed.” Soobin said, quick to pick you up. she then noticed your ripped leggings and destroyed panties. He gulped, feeling even more sorry. “And I can help you change into clothes that aren’t ripped…”

——————————————

“S-stop tempting me…” Soobin said quietly as the two of you laid with each other in bed. Your earlier activities were…eventful, but you never let up your teasing.

“Who knew that vamp Soobin had such a snake in his pants, huh?” You giggled.

“Stop~” He whined, covering his face.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy nearly ripping me in half.” You poked his waist.

“I n-never said I didn’t, but…” He paused. “Don’t ask me to drink your blood again. I’ll get too out of control, a-and if we ever, uh, do things like what we just did, I’d rather us both be in control of ourselves.”

“I kind of liked you being so unhinged, but…we’ll keep that to a minimum. For your sake of course.” You said.

“Good.”

“But at least we’ve got the hunger part under control.” You said. “Now, it’s time to teach you not to fuck my brains out whenever you have my blood. Are you up for that challenge?”

“A-another one?”

You nodded wth a devious smile. He was your vampire, now, and what better way to take care of him than to teach him how to control himself? There was one way to go, and many, many more ways left from here.

Taglist:

@jjunbug @bluesoobinnie @fairyofshampgyu @rencarnationofangel @wynncrites @rosie-is-everywhere @jjhmk @yeonjun4beagles @deobitininy @yzhvuo @just-a-bi-moa @nowrosesaredead @iluvvkkh @luvyxdovey @willowcxmilee @lovedqisy @junhit @satorusimpp @leviathanlee26 @gyumie @lxxdxnixl @fangmei08 @lumine-blight @wtfbruhidgaf @she-is-dreaming @melonsdeathday @yeonyeonyeonjun

[wkemeup]

Sky Full of Song (1)

series summary: Despite the bitter resentment of the crew, you found a home on Captain Barnes’ ship. But when course is plotted for a legendary island, the secret that has kept you alive for years is threatened to be revealed. Pirate/Siren AU

pairings: pirate!bucky x pirate/siren!reader

chapter word count: 7k

warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, history of torture, tending wounds trope, established mutual pining so get ready for it to slap you in the face with some restrained longing

a/n: reminder that I don't do tag lists, so check out @wkemeup-fics and use notifications for alerts!

🏴‍☠️ series masterlist // series playlist

A salted breeze brushed through the damp ends of your hair. As you drew in a heavy breath, it then settled to the inside of your lungs – the crisp taste of ocean water on your tongue, sticking sweetly to your lips.

The sun was blistering hot, coursing beads of sweat down the nape of your neck and under the thin layer of your fraying blouse. Above, seagulls called to one another as the waves crested against the outer layer of the ship.

You closed your eyes, losing yourself for a moment to the gentle rock of Caribbean waves under your feet - the steadiness of the ship along the currents. The push and pull, ebb and flow. Ever persistent. Ever reliable.

“Aye! Are you going to help us or not!”

You pried open your eyes to find Captain Barnes swinging his blade at a nearby assailant, swiping the sharpest edge across the man’s gullet until he spilled over into a mess of his own bloodied clothing. Droplets splattered over Barnes’ chest, pebbled against the white of his loose hanging shirt and onto the tanned skin where the neck drooped low to his sternum; glistening red dull in comparison to the golden pendants against his chest.

It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him in a fight – surrounded by men baring intent to kill – but it did not lessen the command his presence carried as you watched him. He cut his sword through the air with such power, such grace, that you hardly paid mind to the men who slumped to their stillness at his feet as a triumphant smirk tugged over his lips.

Sweat trailed to his brow from the heat of the baron sun, dripping down his temple and cleaning streaks of blood and grime from his face. And still – he gave no pause to the fight. He took no room for breath as he defended against the next attacker; taking them out before they so much as lifted their blade.

It was a dance. Rehearsed well enough over his years he could have had his eyes closed and you imagined he still would have had the upper hand, leaving a trail of the enemy in his wake.

There was a reason his name was spoken only in hushed whispers within port cities.

In your grip, your own weapons weighed heavy: a pistol in your right, a dagger in the left – clean and untouched. Weapons that served as an extension to your own hands; tangible pieces of you made of metal and fury. Never far out of reach and luckily so, given the view of the siege you held from your position at the helm of the ship.

Enemy pirates baring the flag of the Southern Island King had caught up to your ship while the wind was baron, breaking their crew to the bone as they rowed in agonizing labor to reach the infamous ship of the Commandos – the only pirate crew not backed by a corrupt government or a greedy monarch. No – the Commandos, led by Captain James Barnes, took what they dared and held it in their own pockets.

Rumors spread of the accumulated wealth hoarded upon the ship; tales of endless jewels and gold smuggled below deck in barrels of rum.

No one paid any mind to the small port town that housed the crew on their return to land; where businesses were thriving, townspeople free of illness and plague, the crops made of the highest quality seed. There was rarely treasure held upon the vessel, but it did not stop others from seeking its gold.

When you had asked why no one bothered to dissuade the rumors of the ship to avoid such frequent attacks, Captain Barnes had only smiled. You wondered if perhaps he allowed the rumors to fester to keep his crew in shape – always ready for attack, primed with combat skill from experience and necessity. Trial by circumstance. Skill made of adrenaline and blood.

It was certainly never boring upon his ship.

“Y/n!” Barnes shouted again, gutting through another of his attackers as he rounded on the stairs toward you. "Care to join us?"

There was a level of impatience in his tone, perhaps some annoyance given the fact that you’d checked out entirely in the middle of a siege. If you listened carefully enough, you might have heard the slight edge of concern jut up at the crux of his voice, his gaze sharply glancing towards you between every swing of his sword.

While Barnes and the rest of the crew were knee deep in blood and sweat, you were standing in the middle of the fight with your eyes closed, taking in the ocean as if you couldn’t do such a thing when the ship was quiet and your life was without imminent risk. You could practically hear Barnes’ impending lecture rehearsing in your head; the low gruff of his voice, the curled clench of his fist as it hit the edge of the table in frustration, rum spilling from his desk in the aftermath. It was a frequent occurrence as of late.

The captain called your name a third time as another body dropped; a warning to not allow him to call for you a fourth.

You groaned, tearing yourself away from the steadiness of the ocean and quickly shot down a man two steps behind the captain. His sword had been raised, set on cutting straight through Barnes’ neck while his back was turned. You had barely needed time to aim the shot or unlatch the safety and yet the man now held a bullet planted between his brows. Smoke trailed from the end of your barrel.

Barnes turned sharply at the sound of the body as it fell to the deck, a stunned look on his face. He looked back at you with wide eyes, though they wasn’t born of surprise – no, he knew your skill with a pistol better than most. The slight curve of his lips and the raise of his brows could only be attributed to something that resembled intrigue.

The captain bowed his head to you – only enough that you would notice his gesture of admiration amongst the chaos - and then, he returned to the fold.

You rushed after him, exhilaration flickering like lightening inside your chest. Adrenaline pumping in your veins – the crossroad of fear and frenzy, life and death, the spark that breathed new life into your soul.

Before you stepped onto the main deck, you dragged your dagger across the throat of a man who foolishly dared to lunge for you across the steps. Wet streaks of blood dabbed to your cheeks as he collapsed.

You passed by Dum Dum Dugan and Gabe Jones as they took on three of the enemy side by side, chatting idly to one another as if it were little more than a poker game between them instead of the heavy metal blades gripped tight in their hands. To your left, Jim Morita was outpacing the endurance of a combatant attempting to bring him to his knees. He winked at you as you sprinted by, barely breaking a sweat.

But it was the men of the King’s brigade that bore stunned looks upon their faces at the sight of you. Not for the fresh blood splattered across your face and staining to the white of your blouse, nor the grin of unbridled excitement upon your lips. But because a woman was aboard.

Pirates were a superstitious bunch and a woman on deck signaled for bad luck and misfortune. Half of your own crew still gave you dirty looks behind the back of your captain and grumbled under their breath at every inconvenience easily blamed to your presence.

They could talk all they wanted, give you as many targeted looks as they dared. You were amongst the open waters, free in a way so few women ever were. It was more than enough to make up for the ignorance of a select number of the crew.

By the time you reached him, Captain Barnes was engaged in combat with what appeared to be an expert swordsman at the soul of the ship. Covered in tattoos over the bald of his head, the man danced the knives through his fingers as if they were little more than putty in his hands. Incredible precision, almost artistic in his movement – you considered a moment to stop and observe the man's talent before you noticed the slight hitch in his shoulder.

He was getting ready to strike – his skill with the blades merely a diversion – and Captain Barnes was growing exhausted. His shoulders had slumped, his eyes falling heavy. He was swaying worse than the currents under the ship; feet stumbling as if he were barely able to hold himself upright.

It was only then that you noticed the swell of blood soaked into his shirt; red pooling around his ribs in thick crimson, spreading slowly through the fraying white fabric.

Your smile fell. Any trace of thrill evaporated in an instant. You dove for the swordsman.

Coming from behind, the swordsman had little time to prepare for the attack as you dug your blade into the thick of his neck. You didn’t care to spare an extra swing or play with your prey as you twisted the dagger. The captain was injured and this fight needed to be over. No more games. You yanked your blade out from the man’s neck, gushing scarlet following in its wake.

Only when the man slumped to his final rest and your hands were coated thick in his blood, you finally stood. Captain Barnes was watching you with that strange look in his eye again – the one you couldn’t quite read. A heavy coated darkness crept into the seas of blue in his gaze. It left you feeling unnerved.

“That’s twice now, Captain, if you’re keeping score,” you teased in an effort to break the tension. You stepped away from the body of the second man you’d killed to spare your captain within the fight.

A smile curved at his lips as he slowly stepped closer to you. The clashing of swords had died down, the sound of gunfire few and far between. The grin fell from your mouth as he inched closer to you, too close for the crew who did not trust you and the enemies who feared you to witness.

But he stilled when he was mere breaths from your lips and slowly slid a hand along your wrist to the pistol in your hold. You loosened your grip you felt his fingers dance along the line in your palm where the metal grazed your flesh. His gaze remained fixated on you, boring straight through whatever remained of your soul as he gently pried away your weapon. You gave it willingly, heart pounding, and watched as he slowly extended it beyond your shoulder, aiming at a target at your back.

Cerulean blue and bright as the ocean waves themselves, his eyes did not stray from you for even a moment as he shot the last enemy pirate upon his ship. The barrel was still smoking as he slid it down against your hip, into its holster.

“How many times must I ask you to call me by my name?” he asked, his voice low enough that you almost didn’t hear him over the crash of the waves.

Your lips parted, a flush warming through your chest. “At least once more, Captain.”

You could feel his breath against your cheeks. A dangerous game he was playing, to allow such a display in full view of his crew. But rumors had been circulating the ship since the moment you stepped aboard regardless of whether the captain fed to them or not.

Many believed your presence upon the ship was born of the captain’s lust from the start, despite never having laid a hand upon you or so much as confessed a hint to such desires. They refused to believe that your skill with a blade and bullet could be of worth to his crew, resigning to the belief you were only good for the use of your body for the captain’s pleasure. It was an assumption your captain abhorred.

You had no intention of fueling such rumors further with something as affectionate and familiar as the use of his first name. So you never once called him James aloud, or the nickname he went by amongst friends— Bucky. It felt too intimate, too close to the insulting assumption that you were little more than a figure to warm his bed rather than the asset you both knew you were to his crew. You were damn good with a blade and an even better shot. You had to prove yourself to the crew every single day and calling him by such a familiar name would not help your cause.

Only in your mind, did you reserve such an intimate name.

But your captain – Bucky – would not let it go as easily.

“I suspect you will make me beg, won’t you?” he exhaled, the sultry tone tugging shivers from your spine.

You smirked and ignored the twist in your stomach. “Perhaps I will.”

“Captain!” Morita called from helm. “Come take a look!”

Bucky stepped back, putting some space between you as he brushed a hand down the front of his shirt.  His fingertips skimmed against the blood staining the fabric, a tightly clenched wince upon his features. He was good at hiding his injuries from the crew – always set on putting his men at ease – but he could not so easily hide it from you.

Whether you had learned to pick up on his subtle inflections or he had begun to drop the steeled curtain between you, you weren’t sure. Regardless, he was too stubborn to care for himself on his own and the small window you held into his pain was one you did not take lightly. You’d have to force him to attend to his wound later, as you often did.

You followed your captain across the ship, stepping over pools of blood and bodies yet to be thrown to the sea. When you reached the stairs, he stepped aside and allowed you to climb ahead of him. A gesture of chivalry and respect uncommon amongst the pirates and yet Bucky did not hesitate, did not even blink as some of his crew narrowed their gaze in distaste.

When you reached the top, you found a man tied to the wheel with blood stains upon his teeth and a vicious look in his eyes. His arms were dangled above his head, his body slumped onto the ground. Blood dripped down from the corners of his mouth as he struggled against the ropes like a rabid animal. He snarled as you approached, moving to chomp at your ankles. You jolted away in mild annoyance.

“Take him to the brig,” Bucky ordered with little more than a glance at his new prisoner. “The Southern King’s men weren’t out searching for us. I want to know where they were heading.”

“You believe they happened upon us by chance?” Dugan questioned, raising a thick brow.

Bucky nodded. He wiped the blood from his blade with the edge of his loosened shirt. “These men were underprepared. Messy. This one still reeks of alcohol.” He tapped his boot against the prisoner’s ankle. “I suspect they caught sight of our sails and in their drunken arrogance, believed they could overtake us. It would seem easier than whatever journey lay ahead in their clouded minds.”

“You think they were heading somewhere good, Cap?” Morita asked, a glow of excitement brewing on his face. He nudged your side, trying to gather a smile from you as well with the promise of adventure on the horizon, and you almost let it slip if not for the glares of the crewmen hanging by the rails. You smothered the urge to smile, to not allow those men another reason to disregard you for the audacity of joy. Instead, you simply nodded your head at Morita.

It was never enough to be as good as these men. You had to be better. Crueler. Colder. More skilled with a blade and a gun than they could ever hope to be. You had to outpace their endurance and take down twice as many enemies and still – they garnered you no respect. You didn’t suspect they ever would. Tolerance was all they could manage. But it was not their opinion you cared for anyway.

“They were celebrating,” Bucky announced, a smirk growing over lips. “They anticipated to be well compensated for their journey. Let’s get some answers, shall we? I see gold in our future, men!”

The men cheered as you fought back the curve in your cheeks. Bucky gaze caught yours between the crew and he bowed his head to you – a small, barely noticeable tilt. It was a gesture meant to be shared between you, a silent acknowledgement of respect the majority of the crew did not share for you. The fact that a feared captain like James Barnes even allowed you onto his ship given the superstitions was a miracle within itself. To be treated with respect, to be trusted, was something else entirely.

You waited until he turned and followed Dugan and the prisoner to the metal caged cell at the base of the ship before you allowed a semblance of shame to press along your features. Morita and Jones fell in line behind them until all that was left on deck was the lone woman and a crew of men who’d rather see her thrown to the water.

Trust was an impossible commodity to earn, especially amongst pirates. Worse, as a woman. But it had been something Captain Barnes had given to you freely, much to the argument of his crew.

Trust, that was sorely misplaced between the lies you spun.

Lies of why your sense of nautical direction was unmatched. Lies of how you learned to be so steady upon even the harshest of storms. Lies of how you managed to survive each time your former crews grew tired of you and threw you the water miles away from shore.

Your call to the ocean was not just a feeling, but an instinct carved deep into your bones. A part of your soul you’d never been able to shake from the sturdiness of solid land. The only home you could lend yourself to was the rush of deep currents and the saltwater in the air.

Your mother, who had only been by name alone, was the reason you were tied so closely to the ocean.

A monster to the men around you; a vicious creature to be hunted, to be feared. The sort that lured sailors and pirates alike to their death beneath the icy waters, dragging them down to a shadowy grave with deadly kiss. All the while the men smiled. They leapt from the sides of their ships and chased after the intoxicating call, happily drowning in the arms of a siren.

It had been your father who provided the humanity your mother lacked. It was the reason you were standing aboard the ship and not born of the ocean to fins and scales. The only similarities you shared with the creatures was a faint incantation of their song and an ingrained need for the sea.

You’d tried to convince upwards of twenty captains to bring you aboard before Barnes, but none would hear of it. Most laughed in your face to suggest such a ridiculous notion as to a woman boarding a ship as an equal to the crew. The ones who dared had thrown you to the shallow waters at the first puncture to their fragile pride.

Captain Barnes was the only one to grant you a chance.

He did not know of your lineage. No one did. Sirens had laid claim to too many of their brothers in arms to be seen as anything but the monstrous creatures of the deep. It was bad enough the majority of the crew began to question Bucky’s leadership when he dared to bring a woman on board and grant her the same privileges they shared. If these men learned you carried siren blood in your veins, whatever restraint they held in respect – or fear – of their captain would shatter. They’d drive a blade through your heart, but not before they slit your throat and stole your voice.

With the only the lingering, vicious stares of the crew remaining without the protection of the captain’s watchful gaze, you decided to make your way to the brig.

You weren’t just on this ship for the sake of the ocean. You were here for the love of adventure, for the thrill of gold in your hands, and the adrenaline of danger. You were just as curious as to where the ship would journey next as the rest of the crew.

Lawrence, one of the first to join Captain Barnes’ crew, seemed to always have his knife within reach when you passed by. You weren’t sure whether he was suspicious of your lineage or if he was itching to save the men of this ship from what he believed to be a curse in the form of a woman. Little did he know that your presence as a siren was far more dangerous to him and his precious crewmen than a sexist superstition meant to keep women locked in their homes and their husbands without temptation on the seas.

Lawrence grumbled at you as you passed. His taunt was unintelligible under his breath, but they were all the same. Unoriginal and boring. Threats to throw you overboard when the captain was asleep, to spin tails that you’d drowned after falling over the edge. Eager promises to make use of your bed and give you a real reason to be on this ship because your place as a fighter was not as useful to them than what lay between your legs.

If the captain knew of the things his men had said to you, you suspected he might have thrown half of them to the seas by now. But you kept quiet, as did they. It was a silent game between you and the crew to see who will crack first. It would not be you.

You knocked into Lawrence’s shoulder as you passed, throwing a thinly veiled apology over your shoulder. He grimaced, cheeks burning red with anger as his fingertips bristled against the hilt of his blade. You smiled at him, knowing full well he would not dare lift his blade to you, and disappeared below deck.

Water dripped from the wooden beams on the ceiling, falling into puddles that echoed through the brig. The only accompanying sound was the muted snap of a tightly closed fist barreling into the prisoner’s jaw.

Behind the metal bars, Bucky shook out his hand, blood trailing down his knuckles to the ends of his fingertips. Dugan held the prisoner secured by his arms, the man’s head falling limply to his chest. Bucky grimaced as he stretched out his hand and then slowly, set a careful touch to his own ribs, hovering over the injury you’d noticed on the deck he’d had yet to attend to. You frowned.

“What’d I miss, boys?” you asked, stopping at the edge of the cell beside Morita and Gabe.

Bucky’s gaze flickered to yours and he quickly dropped his hand back to his side, realizing he was favoring the wound.

“We have a new destination,” Gabe replied.

“Which will be discussed at council this evening,” Bucky interjected, shooting Gabe a narrowed look. Gabe straightened his back and gave a short nod while Dugan dropped the unconscious body of the prisoner to the mess of straw and dirt on the floor. He, Gabe, and Morita all took their cue to exit to the deck with a subtle wave of Bucky’s hand.

His command over his men required unparalleled respect. It was the reason you had sought him out after so many failed attempts to join other crews. It was a trait so rarely seen amongst men of the sea.

Bucky sighed, locking the cell door behind him as he stepped out to meet you. He winced, even when nothing but the gentle glimpse of air brushed against his ribs. He was a stubborn fool as much as he was a legend in battle.

“Let me look at it.”

It was not an offering, but an order. It was something you could only get away with when there were no prying ears lying in wait.

But Bucky shook his head. “I’m fine.”

You rolled your eyes and lightly pressed your fingers to his ribs, digging right into the wound through the thin fabric of his shirt. He hissed, drawing in such a sharp breath you knew even the slightest touch had been causing him pain. Perhaps even the brush of his shirt drawing discomfort. The idea of him biting his tongue through such pain was intolerable – uncomfortable for you in a way you could not draw meaning to.

He must have noticed the steady determination in your eyes, because he added, “it is not your job, Y/n. My men may be mistaken of your role on this ship, but rest assure, I am not. You are my best fighter. You are not here to clean our floors or tend to my wounds.”

Pride swelled in your chest and you fought against the urge to smile, though it was unbearably difficult. “Someone must tend to your wounds, Captain. I know you will not do it on your own. It is purely for the sake of our crew that I insist. You cannot lead us if you’re bedridden from fever and infection.”

He was not buying your excuse to sway him and you didn’t much care if he did. He studied you for a moment, standing close enough that you could count the flecks of grey within the blue of his eyes. The gentle passing of clouds over a midmorning sky. Too close for a captain to stand beside his crewman, for the silence to linger in favor of bated breath and the slow rise of his chest. And yet he did so anyway.

Against what you suspected to be his better judgement, he nodded and wordlessly led you to his quarters. It did not slip your notice that he took the back route through the brig so that the crew would not see you follow him to his room. Perhaps he was more aware of the crew’s taunts than you believed.

As he stepped inside, he lit the candle at the desk and closed the door behind him. A rush of oak and rum filtered your senses; the warmth and comfort you so closely associated to your captain.

Through the fogged window on the door, you could vaguely make out the shadows of the crew on deck throwing the bodies of the enemy pirates overboard. There was still an entire ship to pillage.

Over your shoulder, Bucky crumpled his blood-stained shirt in his hands. Lit only by the soft glow of candle light and the indirect sunlight through the ocean view window, your gaze drew to the intricate lines of his chest. Starting along his collarbone, slipping down along his sternum, to the rows of muscle on his stomach painted with shadows; lines along his hips that disappeared under the waistline of his pants. You glazed over the sword’s cut along his ribs as you took in his tanned skin and hardened frame.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, gesturing to the kit of supplies on the desk. The movement alone seemed to bother his side but he did not attempt to hide the sharp clench of his jaw from you. Part of you began to wonder whether he allowed you to see his pain because you were more than just another crewman aboard his ship, if maybe he let the steel curtain lift only enough for you to slip between, to grant you access to a vulnerability he would not dare allow the crew to witness.

A weakened captain was a weakened crew. Primed condition for mindless mistakes and fatal accidents. Even an ounce of humanity on the captain’s part put the crew at unease – questioning his ability to lead, to protect, to serve. Dugan, Morita, and Jones did their part to shield Bucky from the hungry eyes of the crew, but it was a consequence of being a pirate. Loyalty was often only as strong as the gold below deck.

You knelt at the foot of the bed, cautiously looking at up Bucky as he gripped a fist to the edge of his sheets and the other against his knee. His knuckles were turning white.

Before you could stop yourself, you let your hand encase around his – slowly, gently. He drew in a sharp breath at the sudden touch. His hands were hardened and calloused from his years on the sea, but he let you draw the tension from his grip, smoothing his fingers of their rigidity.

He looked at you for only a moment – a cross of awe and curiosity on his features. He let out another breath and relaxed the free hand that had been clutching the edge of his sheets. Only then did you open the jar of salve.

With the ointment on your fingertips, you gently reached for his ribs. He hissed at the cold touch and you whispered an apology as you soothed it along the wound. Ghosting as delicately as you could manage over his skin, coating an even layer over where the blade had drawn against his ribs. The cut wasn’t as deep as the blood made it appear, which meant it wouldn’t require stitches. For that, you were grateful.

Mending wounds often required inflicting additional pain – pain you had no interest on doling out upon your captain, but it was pain that could not be avoided. To stitch his cuts, to cauterize open wounds, to dab alcohol-soaked cloths to raw and bloodied skin. It was agony each time he swallowed back a groan or a muted whimper, but you kept on because you knew the cost of infection to a pirate miles away from proper healers and medicine.

You’d ignore the awful churning in your stomach as long as he survived the injury. You didn't suspect it would be the last time you tended to your captain's grueling injuries.

The first – and perhaps, the worst – was after you’d encountered the Queen’s Royal Navy a few months into your voyage under his command. The ship had been boarded; the crew held hostage under a vicious admiral who had dedicated much of his life to hunting Captain Barnes through the seas. They had laughed as they stripped your captain of his jacket, ripped the cloth from his back in tattered shards, and whipped him against the mast.

You’d never heard such a sound as when the whip cracked against his skin; never seen blood spray into the air like crimson mist as vicious lines drew along his spine. Your weakened knees only kept you upright by the grace of the sailors’ grip on your arms. Forced to witness every flinch your captain worked to suppress each time the whip slashed into his skin. He’d barely made a sound, even as his vision began to close in. He’d become an expert at shoving his pain well below the surface – he would not allow his enemies, nor his crew, to see such weakness.

Long after Dugan led the crew in uprising, after the Navy’s men were slaughtered or driven back to their royal ship, you had draped Bucky’s near unconscious frame against your shoulder, supporting his weight as you brought him back to his quarters.

You’d spent a long, unforgiving night tending to the cuts on his back without a word. He muffled his whimpers into the pillow, hands curling around the sheets as he ordered you to leave him to his own demise, to grant him the dignity of a bottle and let him drown in his shame. You refused, despite his protest, and continued to clean the awful lines digging into his skin.

It didn’t matter then that he’d barely known you, that you were near certain he would toss you from the plank or drop you at the nearest port for the offense of witnessing the captain in such debilitating pain – pain that could be seen as weak or shameful to a lesser man. It didn’t matter whether it was your last night upon the one ship you ever felt safe upon as you carefully tended to the whipping marks on his back, desperate to ease his suffering.

Water marks stained the fabric of his pillow until eventually, he had stilled entirely – passed out from the pain as if you’d laid salt to the wounds you’d spent hours tending to.

Only after you’d finished and he came to again did you realize tears had dried against your own cheeks. A weakly muttered ‘thank you’ slipped his lips, his hand seeking yours, before exhaustion took him again.

The faded white lines still remained on his back – burned into his skin from years in the sun and the deep gashes he’d endured that day. If you looked closely enough, you could see a glimpse of one creeping over his left shoulder. While you spared him of infection that night, you could not erase such awful scars from his skin.

It wasn’t the only time you’d tended to the damage done to his body. You'd learned early on how to protect yourself from infection, knowing no man aboard these ships would care whether you succumbed to even the most superficial of wounds. It was no burden, you’d told yourself. It was only logical that you aided the need of your captain. You had knowledge that could be of use to him. That was all.

But then a few months later, your captain returned the favor. He had laid stitches to the inside of your palm after you’d managed to pry away an enemy blade before it struck Dugan at the crux of his neck. You had brashly closed your whole fist around the blade, sinking the sharpest edge into your lifeline. A foolish mistake – one born of a strange protectiveness for a friend you didn’t quite understand at the time.

It was the only time Bucky had seen you cry as he stitched your palm in the comfort of his quarters. Your forehead rested to his shoulder, tears on his skin, your hand trembling between his as he worked as quickly as he could. You could still hear the soft murmurs of his voice as he promised it would be over soon, as he comforted you the best he could; comfort you didn’t know what to make of from a man who constantly surprised you. A scar still crossed over the center of your palm.

He never brought up the tear stains on his shirt or teased you for the sharp flinch of pain each time the needle pierced your skin. His crew would have had a field day if they'd known – if they’d seen you with wet cheeks and confirmed their claims that you weren’t tough enough to be aboard their ship. Hell, you’d like to see them take a blade to their palm and sit through twelve hand woven stitches without flinching.

It went on like that for years. The quiet understanding that your captain would not allow your wounds to go untreated, just as you would demand he allow you to tend to his. He would not witness your pain and deem you unfit to sail alongside him and his men. He would not punish you for the crime of seeking to aid his burden.

But it wasn’t in simple dedication to the captain of your ship that you insisted to care for his injuries. No, you weren’t foolish enough to believe that anymore.

Bucky hissed as your fingertips brushed over a particularly deep edge of the wound laid over his ribs. You frowned, tugging your lip between your teeth.

“It was thoughtless of you to ignore this for so long,” you lectured, pressing the ointment against the wound despite the tension in his abdomen.

Bucky exhaled a tense breath. “I’ve been busy.”

You looked to the fresh cuts on his knuckles, examining the broken skin and the deep red markings. Wounds that lived in an endless cycle of break and repair. You weren’t sure they ever had a chance to fully heal in all of your captain’s time upon this ship.

“Yes, I see that you have.”

Bucky studied your gaze as you turned his hand over in your own, ginger touch to his knuckles. “It is my duty. Nothing more.”

You sighed, picking up the spare stretch of fabric and wrapping it around his hand. It stained in pink before you even clasped the bandage secure. It was a familiar routine, how often you wrapped his knuckles.

“It doesn't always have to be you.”

A tired smile pressed to his cheeks. “Would you like a turn at the next prisoner?”

“If it will stop you from reopening these wounds, yes,” you replied flatly, the amusement shared in your captain’s features lost in your own. You did not tear your eyes away from the bandage in fear of what laid behind the ocean of blue in his gaze, fear of something more meaningful than the easy throwaway comments and the flirtation in his smile.

When you looked up at him again, he was no longer smiling.

“I will not have you compromising pieces of your soul for me,” he said, the low amber of his voice settling deep within your chest. “This is not a burden I will ask you to carry.”

You scoffed, pretending as though a shiver had not crept its way through your spine at the sincerity of his words. “It is not my soul I worry for, Captain. You’ve seen me in a fight. I am no stranger to death.”

“No, you are not,” Bucky sighed, watching you intently as you took spoonful of the salve and rubbed it between your fingers. “But you would not strike down an unarmed man. You would not torture a man who was bound in a cage in search of information he may or may not possess. There is purpose in what you do, Y/n. You protect what is yours. You do not seek out such violence in the way I have throughout my life. Your heart has not been muddied like mine. I will not yield on this.”

You clenched your jaw, unnerved by how easily your captain could read you. You did not dare to meet his eye in fear of what he might find between the lines on your face – the fact that if he asked, you would do anything for him. You’d beat a man in chains if your captain requested it of you. You’d do worse if it would spare him an ounce of the soul he neglected in favor of your own.

It broke something in you at how easily he disregarded his own heart, how he believed it to be darkened in his years upon this ship despite the honor he possessed and the empathy he carried for his men. He spoke so freely of the soul he wished to save inside your chest and carried little for his own. Dread curdled in your stomach – the knowledge that his affection could so easily be smothered by the weight of the secrets you kept.

Bucky kept his stare steady as you slowly worked the salve along his ribs. His skin was smooth beyond the cut, with pepperings of faded scars closer to his shoulder and along his back. He clenched his jaw as you worked, a tense breath escaping as you eased the salve to the deepest part of the wound. His pain was not something you relished, but these quiet moments where you could touch him so easily, where his tanned skin was exposed and illuminated only by the soft glow of candle light, where his breaths evened with every brush of your fingers, were ones you cherished.

When you placed the bandage over his ribs, smoothing out the edges, Bucky set a hand over yours.

You stilled your movements, wide eyes staring up at him though he had yet to look at you. It was like he was at war with himself. Fighting between the urge to speak and whatever consequences may lay in wake. His fingers curled under your palm, holding you against him like a lifeline. His lips parted.

The door hinged cried behind you and Bucky quickly released your hand. You dropped to your heels, sinking away from him. Lawrence stood in the doorway, dark eyes trailing to you as you knelt on the floor and then to his captain, shirtless upon the bed. Lawrence snickered as if he’d finally gained the proof he needed to dismiss you entirely. Heat burned in your cheeks.

“What the hell did I say about barging into my room without permission?” Bucky snapped, the sharpness of his voice wiping the smirk clean from Lawrence’s face. Lawrence shuffled his feet, quickly losing the steeled confidence he bore as he scrambled for an apology. Bucky waved him off dismissively. “What do you want?”

“Council is convened, sir,” Lawrence replied, his back a little straighter.

Bucky nodded, a weight sinking into his shoulders. Lawrence gave a short salute and left the door open as he quickly escaped back to whatever dark hole of the ship would take him. Silence swept in amongst the wake, the flickering dance of candlelight focusing your wandering mind.

“The men are anxious for an adventure,” Bucky said quietly to you. In place of the pained tug of his lip between his teeth was an eagerness to his grin. Light within the sea blue of his eyes. Relief swept over you.

“Is it a good one?” you asked, willing the teasing back to your voice – a shallow playfulness that could not easily be mistaken for the heavy undertow that laid beneath.

“It is a dangerous one.” Bucky winked at you, slipping a fresh shirt over his head though he struggled to lift his left arm above where the bandage resided. You did your best to ignore the glimpse of his pain.

You took Bucky’s hand as he helped you rise from your knees. Lingering only for a moment with his hand held tight within your grip. He cleared his throat, as if realizing the crew of men that awaited him beyond the door of his quarters and released your hand. A chill followed.

Bucky turned to the door, his gaze lingering longer than it should, and then, he turned to face his crew.

[multiharlot]

my wife / matt murdock x age gap!reader

summary: matt loves calling you "his wife" any chance he gets. especially when someone isn't quite getting the hint

warnings: jealous matt sorry not sorry, mentions of alcohol, a second warning for jealous matt bc he deserves it, the phrase "my wife" is used an obnoxious amount of times.

masterlist || series masterlist || add yourself to my taglist!

matt loved calling you his wife every chance he got. from the moment you two got married, he only ever referred to you as "my wife."

you two had gone to a nearby thai restaurant and ran into one of his old classmates from columbia, tyler.

"hey! good to see you! how've you been?"

"good and you!"

"great. have you....have you met my wife? this is my wife, y/n."

tyler just smiled before sticking his hand out.

"you must be...his wife?"

you chuckled, nodding your head and shaking his hand.

"it's his new favorite phrase." you smiled

and he never denied it when you said that.

one day, he'd apparently told foggy and karen that "his wife" was bringing them lunch today.

"you know...we were at the wedding. we know she's your wife, bud. you don't have to keep saying it."

"sorry i just...i like saying it." he shrugged, his cheeks warming as he felt them staring at him.

foggy and karen just smiled at the gross amount of love that their friend had for his wife.

so you could imagine, during his college reunion, he had a hell of a time introducing you as his wife to everyone that came up to speak to him. everyone in the room knew that you were his wife. or so you thought.

"hey, i'm gonna go grab some drinks. you guys want anything?" you ask, turning your head towards matt, foggy, and marci.

foggy nodded his head while matt and marci said no.

"well would you look at that, your wife is gonna go get me a drink." foggy teased at matt, and he just shrugged, sipping on the scotch he'd been nursing all night.

"my wife is a nice woman."

you rolled your eyes as you walked away, headed towards the open bar.

"can i get a cosmo and a scotch neat please?" you ask, and the bartender nods their head.

you lean forward, looking at all of the bottles against the wall as you wait for you drinks. then a man leans against the bar beside you.

"hi...have we met before?"

you give him a polite smile, shaking your head.

"no, i don't believe so."

"i didn't think so. i would've remembered meeting someone as beautiful as you." he said, smiling cooly.

you let out an awkward chuckle as you nodded your head.

"yeah well i doubt we would've met. i'm here with my husband. i didn't go here so...i mean i did. just not...for law. and not at the same time as you."

"your husband?"

"mhm" you hum, nodding your head and hoping that would be enough to get him to back off.

but alas, not all dreams come true.

"i don't know the guy but he seems like a fool."

"excuse me?" you ask sharply, narrowing your eyes at him.

"he's got to be a fool to leave a pretty thing like you unattended." he smirks, stepping forward and tracing his hand gently down your arm.

as you move your arm and step back, a hand is quick to grab the stranger's hand off of you.

"i'm gonna suggest that you don't touch my wife and that you keep your hands to yourself."

there's a short pause before the stranger lets out an amused chuckle.

"murdock's your husband?"

"and what about it?" you ask sharply, furrowing your eyebrows and quirking your head to the right.

"he just didn't seem like the marrying type."

"i wasn't, until i met my wife."

"ummm....your drinks are ready." the bartender says, awkwardly interrupting.

you mumble a quick thank you and matt leaves a tip on the counter. he quickly wraps his arm around your hips, gripping your hip bone so tightly you thought it might leave marks.

"here's your drink fog." you smile, handing his his drink as you take a seat.

"everything okay?" he asks cautiously as matt adjusts his jaw.

you look over at matt , who's jaw is so tense you're afraid it'll break. you lean over, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw and then taking a sip of your cosmo.

"everything's good. my husband took care of it." you smiled, which caused matt to relax slightly.

"anytime." matt smiles, sliding his arm around your waist and pressing a quick kiss to your hairline.

"not you too." foggy groans.

"i think it's cute." marci mumbles and shrugs.

"no yeah, it's so cute. just like my wife." foggy says, pressing a loud kiss to marci's cheek.

marci just looks at foggy for a moment before speaking up.

"nevermind i hate it."

taglist:

@luvr-bunnyy @glowstick-lesbian @anothersworld

[bonky-n-steeb]

little things

summary || five incidents where you and Bucky fall more in love with each other.

warnings || tooth rotting fluff (the sweetest thing I’ve ever written)

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

the first scene is inspired from Last Christmas.

— happy Valentine’s Day y’all!

“Are you sure Bucky?” You asked as you strapped in the ice skates. “Of course I’m sure, doll. Come on!” Bucky eagerly pulled you up and you nearly went off balance.

“Oh my god! Wait! I haven’t ever done ice skating before.” You said as you tried balancing yourself. “I know. Relax.” He cooed.

The next instant, Bucky was right behind you. His chest was pressed to your back and kept his arms ahead and you held them as he slowly began skating.

Bucky was like a warm brick wall behind you, he wasn’t letting you fall and at the same time his body heat was seeping through the layers of clothes.

The ice rink was completely empty as it was past the official time. Bucky had sneaked you in through the back door and you were pretty sure it was illegal.

But it didn’t matter cuz you couldn’t stop giggling as you and Bucky glided smoothly on the ice. The cold air of the night whipped your face as you held Bucky’s arms tightly.

It was the best feeling in the entire world. Skating in the middle of a cold night with the man you loved. It was like a scene taken straight out of a romance book.

And you knew you couldn’t keep this feeling bottled up in your heart anymore. You were going to tell Bucky. It might break your heart, but it might complete it too.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Your heads snapped up when you saw the security guard walk in for his night duty.

You panicked for a minute before Bucky circled his arms around you and sped up and exited the rink. You both ran after that and looked back to see the guard wasn’t chasing you, just dejectedly looking on.

“Holy shit! That was crazy!” You panted as you two finally came to a stop. Running in the skates on the pavement was a wild experience.

“I know. I’m sorry it got interrupted.” Bucky shyly tucked his hair behind his ear. “No no nono…. Bucky it was the best experience of my entire life!. Thank you!”

“Really?” Bucky’s eyes lit up. “Yes. Skating is much better than I thought and it was the best because… you were there with me.” When Bucky just stared at you with wide eyes, you continued.

“Bucky… I know this is going to sound real bad. And I’m okay if you don’t at all feel that way about me or… if you’re not ready for it yet, but…”

“I love you.”

Those out of your lips felt so freeing. It was like letting a dove out of a cage. But you gulped nervously when Bucky just kept on staring at you. Usually you didn’t mind him staring, but now you did.

You cleared your throat in a bid for him to say something and he finally took the lead. “You… you love me?” He didn’t seem to be believing you.

“Yes Bucky. I love you.” The next thing you new, you were in Bucky’s arms and he was hugging you so tight you thought you’d crush your bones; and you’d happily let him.

“Oh god! I love you too doll. I love you so much! Thank you! Thank you for loving me!” He finally let go of the embrace and held your face gently in his hands as if it was the most precious thing.

“Say it again, please.” You both had tears in your eyes. “I love you Bucky!” You both had big smiles plastered on your faces.

“I love you too.” Was all you heard before his plump lips were upon yours. Kissing the love of your life in some back alley as the snow fell from the sky; yeah, it was the best day of your life.

~~~

“Bucky, where are you taking me?” You asked as Bucky pulled you into some bar you hadn’t been before. It was a surprise because you were the one showing Bucky the new things of this century.

Bucky had told you to be ready this evening and he had brought you here saying it was a surprise. The bar gave a vintage feeling when you entered it.

It felt as if… straight out of 40s.

“Do you remember when you told me you hadn’t ever been taken dancing.” As if on cue, old music started playing and people gathered on the dance floor.

“Bucky… you remembered?” You had mentioned it a long time back in passing, without really thinking much about it. “Of course I remembered!” He smiled as he pulled you on the floor.

He placed on hand on your shoulder and the other on your hips and you followed him. You both swayed to the soulful rhythm of the song and you placed your head on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Do you like this?” Bucky inquired and you lifted your head up again. “This is wonderful Bucky! I loved it.” You pulled his head down and kissed him as you continued dancing.

“After that day I searched google for such retro places. And that’s how I found this one.” He seemed so proud of himself, you couldn’t help but beam with happiness.

“You’re so amazing Bucky. I can’t believe you’re mine.” Your chirped out and Bucky smiled back in return. You’d never tire of seeing him smile. “Yes doll, I’m all yours.”

~~~

“Oh god!” You groaned as you entered the kitchen. You had a very tiresome day and the thought of making dinner was making you even more fatigued.

“What happened?” Bucky asked as he followed your trail. You had moved in with Bucky and he was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.

“Nothing. Just tired.” You massaged your own nape to released some pressure before cooking. “Do you want me to order something?” Bucky asked.

“Uhhh, no. We’ve already had too much from outside.” You had already taken a take out yesterday and had visited a party the day before.

“Yeah you’re right… do you… umm,.. do you mind if I cook tonight?” You gaped at him as you hadn’t expected the super soldier assassin to ask you this.

“You can cook?” You suddenly realised that he lived alone before this so he most definitely could. “Yes. Not even half as good as you. But I make fine macaroni and cheese.”

“That sounds amazing!” You pecked Bucky on his lips and sat on one of the chairs. You giggled when he tied his long hair up in a bun and rubbed his hands together.

You watched with a loving gaze as he strutted around the kitchen. You stared with awe as his tongue peeked out whenever he did something with concentration.

“I hope this is good.” Bucky laughed nervously when he served the meal in two dishes. “Don’t worry. I just know it’s gonna be best. Do you wanna know why?”

“Why?” He asked he placed your dish in front of you. “Because you’ve made it with love.” You laughed and Bucky joined. “Ohhh.. truly the secret ingredient.”

When you tasted it, you realised the pasta was a bit over cooked, but it honestly didn’t matter. “Oh my god Bucky! It’s sooo good. Much better than I expected!”

“Really?” Bucky still hadn’t touched his plate as he waited for your reaction. “Yeah! It’s so delicious that from now you’re the head chef of the house.” You proclaimed.

“If that’s what you want.” He kissed your nose and you scrunched it up. “You know what’s the best thing that happened to me?” You asked twirling the fork in your hand.

“The pasta?” Bucky answered and you both chuckled. You tucked a loose strand of his hair in his ponytail before speaking, “You.”

~~~

Bucky woke up quickly when he realised you weren’t besides him on the bed. Your spot wasn’t warm either and that meant you’d been gone a long time.

He slept with his arm over you and with you tucked under him, and he couldn’t believe it took him this long to notice you gone.

You were a heavy sleeper and once you slept at night, you only got up in the mornings. So it wasn’t a regular sight for Bucky to see you not curled up around him.

Bucky had too many enemies. He knew that and so did you. Bucky loved you more than anything, even more than himself. And he was going to protect you no matter what.

The sleep from his eyes was gone and he got up from the bed in just his sweatpants and stayed silent for a minute, just listening to his surroundings.

He heard rustling sounds from outside the bedroom and he quickly sprung into action. He took his gun from the bedside drawer and slowly opened the bedroom door.

But the instant he saw what was going on, he stood still. You were standing on a stool and decorating the house with lights. You had already draped them over half the house and the other half was remaining.

You were humming to your own tune but then you felt as if someone was watching you so you turned around. “Oh my god Bucky! Go back! This is supposed to be a surprise!” You yelled.

“A surprise?” Bucky wondered as he finally stepped outside the bedroom. “Bucky, please tell me it’s not twelve o’clock yet.” You chewed your lip nervously.

“Umm, actually it’s kinda twelve thirty eight.” You eyes widened and you jumped down from the stool. “I’m so sorry! Oh god, I wanted to keep it a surprise and that’s why I started once you were asleep. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He asked unsure of why you looked sad. Bucky hated seeing you upset. “Bucky, you do know what today is, right?”

Bucky knew what today was, but he didn’t know that you knew it too and neither had he expected you to prepare all this. “You.. you know it?” Tears collected in Bucky’s eyes. “Of course I do!”

“Happy birthday Bucky!”

You exclaimed before literally jumping up on Bucky. By now you were sure he’d always catch you. And just as expected, he easily caught you.

“You.. you did all of this for me?” Bucky looked around the half done decoration. “Yes! I wanted to wake you up at twelve, and sing a big ass happy birthday song and cut the cake and all.. but you see I’m an idiot.”

“No. You’re not. You’re the most wonderful human being on this entire planet who somehow happens to love me.” Bucky had never loved anyone as much as he loved you at the moment. Even more, he had never felt this loved.

“No, you’re the most wonderful person on this planet who somehow happens to love me.” You pressed kisses to his nose, cheeks and forehead. “No. It’s you.”

“No. It’s you.” You both laughed as you kept on repeating it. “Wait wait! I have a gift for you.” You broke from his embrace and dashed into your bedroom.

Bucky anxiously waited until you came back, hiding something in your hand. “Give me your hand.” He did as you said and you kept your gift on his palm and he nearly cried with joy.

His dog tags.

“How.. how did you get these?” He asked overcome with emotions when he saw his name engraved in the steel. “I asked Tony and Steve and they kinda pushed some buttons…” you shrugged.

“This… this is the most beautiful gift.” He closed his fist around the sharp metal and felt it. “Thank you.” His voice was thick with emotions and you held his face in your palms and placed your forehead on his.

“I love you.” You said it in a small whisper, enough for Bucky to hear. “I love you too.” You both stayed there, in the moment and neither of you wanted to leave this cocoon of love.

You kissed each other lovingly before separating. He quickly put the tags back around his neck and sniffled, wiping off his tears. “I mean, you can still sing your birthday song for me.”

~~~

“What do you think about cats?” Bucky asked as he casually placed the grocery bags on the floor. He had gone shopping with the list you had given him.

“They are kinda cool I guess. But I think I’m more of a dog person.” You said without giving it much thought. But suddenly Bucky’s face fell. “Oh…. Kittens are really cute though.”

“Do you want a kitten?“ you asked and Bucky nervously started biting his lips. “Uhh,, yeah. Kinda.” You smiled at his awkwardness. “If you want a cat then we can get it.”

“Really?” His face once again lit up. “Yes.” You we’re about to turn around and get back to work at hand but Bucky once again asked. “Promise me you won’t be mad.”

You raised your eyebrows at his suspicious behaviour. “What have you done Bucky?” Bucky shook his head with innocence and you wanted to laugh at his cute face.

“Promise me first.” Bucky seemed adamant and you sighed. “Okay. I promise. Now tell me.” Bucky didn’t say anything, but instead started unzipping his jacket.

And there, in one of his inside pockets, a really small, cute, white kitten was curled up. “I found her at the side of the road and she’s sweet, she didn’t bite or anything. Can we please keep her? Please!”

“Awww Bucky, of course we can keep her. She’s so cute.” You cooed as you rubbed the kitten on her head. “I know. She’s so white, she reminds me of the snow. Of Alps.” Bucky said fondly.

“Alpine!“ You said as the name came across your head. “What?” Bucky asked a little confused. “How’s alpine for her name?” He smiled widely and nodded.

“Alpine it is then.” You both scratched the kitten and she began purring. Looking at Bucky, a previously feared assassin hold the little kitten so tenderly, made you want to scream with joy.

Looking up at Bucky, you adoringly said, “I think I’m a cat person now.”

[twstedstoryshop]

Hey! I just read your "childhood friend reader confesses to yandere guy after some angst" and im hooked! May i please request same scenario with Floyd, Kalim and Azul?

GOD, I am so sorry for the wait on this. I really took the time to go crazy with this request. I think I immediately spiraled the moment I had to think about this prompt with Floyd because I really love Floyd, aaaaa. Anyway, warning there's long headcanon lists! -Shopkeep

WARNING! The following contains unhealthy character behavior and horror themes. If this disturbs you, please DO NOT READ.

Yandere headcanons with childhood friend Floyd, Kalim, and Azul and are surprised by flowers and gifts.

You, Floyd, Jade, and Azul were thick as thieves during your childhood. You had met the Tweels first before Azul joined in eventually. Out of your group of friends though, you and Floyd were the textbook definition of best friends forever.

Floyd would constantly go out to come see you everyday. You were his go-to whenever his mood shifted. Feeling playful? It’s time to play with you! Feeling mad? I bet a squeeze and venting to you will help. Lonely? Swimming right to your side.

It was a fiasco though when the carriage came to pick the trio up, but unfortunately not you… You would have to enter next year. Floyd was inconsolable. He was determined to not go to NRC and stay home until the both of you could go together. Of course, denying his entry was out of the question and Floyd was in a HORRID mood during the first few weeks of school.

Constantly had you on the mind. Tried to contact you often and would get antsy in the wait of letters being exchanged. The only time he ever felt like behaving was during days when your letters got back to him.

Finally when the day came that you were coming to NRC and joining his dorm, Floyd was over the moon. Practically carried you around like a ragdoll as he personally toured you around campus and Octavinelle’s dorm. It seemed like peaceful school days were ahead!

That is of course, he overheard a conversation between you and Jade. Something about dating and the customs of courting on land. Something snapped in the eel. Unlike the other boys who would try to hide their suspicious feelings, Floyd would barge in during your talk and ask in his sing-song creepy tone why you were interested in dating practices.

You fumbled, tried to brush it off like it was just a silly question to ask, and would scamper off. Floyd would watch your back with an unblinking stare and Jade would watch silently as his twin brother nearly broke the bar table in a huff. He’d demand Jade why you were asking him such things and the calmer twin would shrug, saying he had no idea.

The following days at NRC became a nightmare for whoever was unfortunately in Floyd’s warpath. He stalked the halls like a predator ready to snap at anyone. More precisely, he stalked you. He watched with uncanny stares, watching any guy that got too friendly with you. Those poor students would be whisked away into the darkness with dual colored eyes staring down at them hollowly as he squeezed them. Probably inches away from nearly suffocating or breaking bones.

You were none the wiser to his actions, but you knew Floyd like the back of your hand. He was in a terrible mood and you wanted to cheer him up. Besides, you felt pretty confident in your present for him.

You would eventually find Floyd lazing about in the back of Mostro Lounge, broody beyond compare. He would refuse to talk to you at first, spitting out some rather sharp words, thinking you had better things to do besides hang out with him. You’d frown and have your own remarks to say. It was a miracle in itself you could backtalk Floyd with your life intact.

Your words would make him sit up and glower at you, challenging you to say that again, but then would be stopped halfway when you shove some things in his lap. One there was a bouquet made entirely of shells, dried starfish, and strings of pearls. The other, a box containing a full ensemble with matching shoes from one of his favorite brands. You turn your back on him, crossing your arms. “If you don’t like them, you can toss them out! Since you clearly don’t want me around anymore!”

Before you can take one more step, Floyd quickly grabs you and puts you in his lap. His arms enclose around you and you feel something wet hit your shoulder. You realize he was crying a bit as he held you so tightly. “Sorry… I really missed you. Please don’t leave me alone anymore…”

You sigh and hold his head close. “Dummy. Where would I even go? I love you too much to leave you all alone…” You could feel him hold you tighter at those words.

Now I’m gonna go against the grain and offer something a little different here. Indeed, you and Kalim were the closest of friends that grew up together, having both families that were dear friends and partners in the merchant business. So it was kind of expected that both of you were arranged to marry eventually.

However this didn’t dampen your friendship at all. Kalim even said that if you ever felt too stifled by this arranged marriage, you should tell him and he’d persuade his parents to cut it off. Though you never really wanted to! You felt very comfortable with Kalim and the thought of spending your life with him for a long while didn’t sound so bad…

You, Kalim, and Jamil of course grew up together! You often helped Jamil whenever Kalim’s naive nature got the best of him. You said it was practice anyway when you’d eventually be Kalim’s future partner. Which made Jamil sigh, lecturing you a bit that Kalim shouldn’t be putting you through so much work in the first place. But you laugh it off.

Sometimes Jamil tries to serve you too if you ever need it, but Kalim would always barge in and offer his services instead. You want something? Do you need food? Feeling bored? Kalim will spend any price to keep you happy!

Expect a lot of physical affection from Kalim. Always hugging you, holding your hand in public, and since you guys are technically fiances, he can get away with kissing your forehead, nose, and cheeks. You do the same for him too!

You both got into NRC at the same time and Kalim was jumping for joy that he could get to spend his schooling days with you and Jamil! First order of business was to throw a huge feast to celebrate! Though as the festivities went on, Kalim took notice that your amicable nature attracted a number of the Scarabia students.

He felt something… Funny rise up in him. He would suddenly join your side and whisk you away, reasoning that he wanted to dance together or try some food out with you. You wouldn’t even be able to protest as his excited energy turns you away from your fellow students.

The following days, Kalim’s behavior would only ever subtly shift. Clings to you like glue whenever you are around, insists on hand holding when going anywhere on campus, and whenever he introduces you to others, he always adds on, “Oh! They’re my best friend and fiance.” It throws you for a loop but you don’t really deny him since it’s the truth.

One day, he overhears you conversing with Jamil. “Jamil… What do people do when they go on dates?” “You don’t know? You never been on a date with Kalim?” “Well, no, not really… We’ve only ever spent time together as friends.” You admit guiltily.

Again, that funny feeling rises up in him. Anxiety stirs his stomach. Why are you asking such things? Were you dissatisfied with him? Would you not want to be with him in the end?

Kalim’s affections would be suffocating at that point. Anytime you both were free, he insisted on taking you anywhere that you desired. He showered you with gifts. He would hug you and kiss your cheeks so many times. He tried everything to charm you. But one day, when he expected you to accept his request for an outing, you had to say that you needed space and slipped away from him.

To say that Kalim didn’t take it well was an understatement. He was devastated. He thought this was it, this was the end of your relationship. The whole day he was morose, not showing his usual cheeriness, and didn’t get into his usual antics. He even showed a hint of annoyance when someone suggested throwing a celebration to cheer him up. That greatly concerned Jamil. He went to seek you out and asked what had happened between you and Kalim. You say that nothing is wrong at all! You wanted time alone because you were still planning to give Kalim something special.

Jamil sighs, now seeing that this was just a big misunderstanding. He explains the situation to you and you jump to your feet quickly. You had to clear this up! You went off to find Kalim and he’d be found holed up in his room. The poor boy was curled up, hugging his pillow, and eyes glassy with tears. He perked up at your presence and looked at you in confusion.

Why were you here? Didn’t you hate him? You assure him that you don’t hate him at all! In fact, you show him your offerings of affection. A large heaping bouquet of tuberoses and a pair of beautifully handmade bell earrings you commissioned straight from Scalding Sands.

You explain that you’ve always wanted to act properly as fiances but you never had the idea on how to approach romance. Especially with a lifetime of being friends. You hoped he’d accept your feelings. Of course, this boy practically tackles you to the ground and is wailing in joy.

He loudly declares that he’s been in love with you for so long and he’s so relieved and happy that you felt the same way too! He quickly changes out his earrings to the ones you got him and declares a sudden feast! A celebration to your romantic turn in your engagement!

Please help Jamil. He is feeling his blood pressure rise from this whole ordeal.

You were the only one who didn’t think to tease or bully the young octo-mer. You actually stood up for him, scaring away those vain merpeople children. Azul was so frightened of you at first, thinking would target him personally but you were the only one who offered a kind hand to him.

From then on, it was the two of you always together. You were Azul’s personal bodyguard almost, ready to be a menace to anyone who dared try to mess with him. Because of this, Azul often clung to you and cried for you to come protect him.

When you were young, you two would often hide in his octopot together, hugging each other and talking about anything under the sun. Your lives, silly things, family, aspirations, etc, etc. Those were your and Azul’s fondest memories in childhood.

At first, the Tweels had a bit of a rough time trying to befriend the both of you as you would guard Azul like a bull shark and Azul hid behind you. Eventually, the four of you became good friends and got up to all kinds of mischief.

Azul over the years grew into the ambitious and calculating guy we know, still haunted by the trauma of his cruel bullies. But he also had another drive to be stronger. To have the power to protect you too as you’ve done so much for him already.

He acts like his usual self in front of the twins and others, but when it’s just the two of you alone, Azul becomes rather vulnerable and meek. It’s like a 180 in his personality. He clings to you, whines to you about whatever is stressing him, and seeks out your praise and affection.

It’s a jarring shift in personality but you don’t mind. It just meant that Azul can be more open in his emotions with you, his dearest best friend. It’s not uncommon that behind closed doors, you still hug and cuddle each other tight and talk about all kinds of things.

I can also imagine you being one of the very few people Azul allows to see his octopus form. As soon as you both hit the water, he immediately clings onto you with his arms and tentacles.

Similar to Floyd, you had to wait one year before going to NRC. Azul on the surface seemed to take it well and tried to focus on excelling in his academics.However in truth, Azul was a panicked mess. You were his rock, you were always there to support him. The idea of being so far away from you and not having you to hold gave him so much stress. A walking definition of separation anxiety.

Eventually when you did make it finally into the college, Azul nearly jumped for your coffin Gate if it weren’t for the twins keeping him in place. Had to sit there digging his fingers into his thighs as he waited with baited breath for you to be sorted.

The moment you two were alone, Azul would hug you so tight, it rivaled Floyd’s squeezes. You felt him sniffle against you. “I missed you so much…” You frantically got to drying his tears but feeling your kindness again after so long makes him tear up even more. Your kindness always makes his heart tremble.

You worked closely with Azul as he managed Mostro Lounge. Often you hung out at the lounge and talked casually with the twins. One day, you just happened to start talking to them about the courting rituals of land dwellers and Azul listened intently the whole time. Paranoia fills his mind instantly.

Why would you care about those kind of things? You weren’t going to leave him were you!? Were you getting tired of him? An onslaught of self-deprecation crashes down on him and desperately, he would be on the hunt to seek out your preferences. Whatever interests you, whatever you enjoy in another man, he’s trying hard to pull contracts to gain what they have. He’ll know everything since he has ears and eyes everywhere and if anybody is withholding information? The Tweels are on it.

But in the end, he would be running himself ragged in his panicked hunt. Azul, who usually kept his cool, was tearing at the seams because of you. You would notice this instantly, seeing the tiredness in his eyes and his nervous ticks. You had to sit him down and force him to relax. He’d protest loudly at first but being in your presence, he can’t help but to obey eventually.

You tell him to wait and you come back to his office with an elegant bouquet of irises in white and shades of beautiful purple. With it, a box containing a necklace with a mother of pearl pendant. The pendant was shaped like the Sea Witch’s shell. You tell him that ever since you met him, you always felt like you were under his spell, enchanted by him.

At those words, Azul is a blubbering mess. He would admit his fears to you and feels like he’s so unworthy of you in the end. You have to reassure him with so many hugs, kisses, and kind words that you love him only and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Of course, Azul thinks the same way and looks up at you with those beautiful, teary eyes you can’t help but to adore so much.

[boxofbonesfic]

I'm gonna be rude in this ask for the challenge.

Bucky Barnes.

He swipes the parking space you were waiting for.

Bonus points if you make it into A/B/O but either way I am here for it.

okay but this provided me with the perfect meet cute, so i’m not even mad though—

Title: Break lights

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Rating: Explicit

A/N: here goes my second entry into @syntheticavenger’s 5k challenge, located here! this prompt SENT me, because… what am i, if not a corny, horny pile of bones?? please enjoy, and also, i have one entry left, so if anyone wants to send another prompt, my inbox is open, lmao!!! thank you synth for hosting this bomb challenge, and for giving me the best prompts 🥺

MINORS, DNI!

How it started:

You’re a cautious driver—okay, maybe over cautious, but it was a dangerous world, and you had to be. You worked hard at your job at the coffee shop to be able to afford it, budgeting and scrimping and saving—you couldn’t afford major repairs.

Which was why parking on the street in front of work was such a hassle. People zipped by on the busy street, often only just avoiding hitting you as you slowly, carefully backed into whichever spot you’d found. Or worse, they waited impatiently behind you, honking and yelling as your nervousness made it even harder to line up correctly.

Those are things you’re used to.

What you’re not used to, is some asshole driving up into your spot just as you’d begun to reverse. You weren’t used to sitting there in shock as people drove into the other lane to pass you, watching as he got out, looking rather pleased with the great spot he’d managed to secure. He’s big—brawny, with dark chestnut hair. You can’t see his face, not really, but the smug smile is easy to read.

“Asshole.” You growl, your hands tightening on the steering wheel. You should get out and give him a piece of your mind, you should let him know he’s an entitled little—

“Hey lady! Move your ass!”

You should find another place to park.

Shamefully, you put the car into gear and look for a spot of your own. You find one eventually—three avenue blocks away—and trudge back to work. Priscilla is in the back when you arrive, and she throws an apron at you.

“Where’ve you been? It’s a shit-show out there,” she whines. “I told Maurice you were back here but he’s not going to buy that for long.”

“Thanks, Priss.” You reply, shrugging out of your denim jacket and fiddling with the apron ties. The front is slammed, just like she’d said it was, and you slide over to the register, punching your code in. “Hi, can I help you?” you ask, giving a cursory glance to the man in front.

“Americano. Black, please.”

You look up again, and your eyes narrow. The sun glasses are pushed up over his head now, but you recognize the parking spot thief from earlier easily now. Is it just me or is he… bigger? He seems even larger now, towering over you as he smiles politely. You sniff dryly, punching his order in. Alpha. Fucking typical.

“Anything else?” You keep your tone clipped and short, practically snatching his card from him when he offers it.

“Yeah, I’ll take one of those pastries too, the blueberry one.” You grab one, tossing it carelessly into a paper bag before swiping his card. You drop it to the counter and spin on your heel. “Uh, don’t you need my name—”

“No, when I yell ‘parking spot thief,’ you’ll know your order’s ready.” You snap at him, unable to keep quiet a moment longer. A look of disbelief crosses his face, followed by amusement. “Sir, please step aside, there are other people waiting behind you.” You gesture to the growing line of disgruntled people murmuring what you could only assume were disrespectful things.

He does, a little smile on his irritatingly handsome face.

Stupid Alpha. Alphas were always like that, pushing people around just because they could. You’d sworn you’d never settle down, and if you did, it certainly wouldn’t be with some entitled Alpha who never wanted you to do anything but pop out kids and cook his meals.

“Can I help you?” The next person steps up.

“You know, in all fairness, I didn’t know you were waiting for that spot,” he interjects, speaking over the middle aged woman as she tries to order.

“Sir, please. I’m trying to work. Also, who just sits in the middle of the street with their blinker on if they’re not trying to park?” You snap, glaring at him. “I’m sorry ma’am, what did you say?” You can hear Priscilla giggling behind you, like it’s funny.

“I’d like one of those iced ginger teas, and a vanilla—”

“You’d been sitting there like five minutes! I thought you were having car trouble or something.”

“Vanilla?” you repeat back to the woman, ignoring him.

“A vanilla latte, please.” She turns to the big Alpha, leveling him with a glare of her own, and he smiles sheepishly.

“I’ll have that right out for you. And you. If you’re done justifying sniping my spot, could you…?” You make a shooing motion with your hands, and he laughs out loud.

“Okay, okay, toots. I can take a hint, I’m sorry.” He holds his hands up apologetically. “Really. It’s all a misunderstanding.” Priscilla hands you his cup, and you hand it to him, your face heating when you see that she’s written Parking Spot Thief on it in large letters.

“It’s… fine. Have a good day sir.”

“No, no, let me make it up to you. You get a lunch break, right?” You feel your whole body go hot.

“I do but, I don’t think—”

“She’d love to go.” Priscilla chimes in from behind you. “Seriously, I’m not going to watch you eat five day old muffins and get sick again.” You grimace at her. Why would you bring that up?

“How about pizza?” he asks, grinning. “Better than day old muffins, right?”

How it’s going:

“Feel me in your belly, right, sweetheart?” Bucky croons at you, lifting your hips only to let you bounce back down onto his dick. He presses his vibranium hand to your tummy and grins. “Oh yeah. There I am.” It’s pleasurable torture as he splits you open, your slick leaking down onto his thighs and the leather seats of his car underneath.

You’re babbling, half formed words and pleas leaving your trembling mouth as he fucks you stupid in the passenger seat. Tears are leaking down your cheeks as your pussy clenches desperately around the length of his thick cock, and your hands are fisted in his open dress shirt.

“God, ah, oh fuck, please, please, please—”

“Need me to make you cum, sweetheart? Show you how sorry I really am?” Bucky grunts, his hips snapping up into yours as he forces his cock as deep inside you as it’ll go. You don’t know how long is left on your lunch break, and quite frankly, you don’t care—Priss’ll cover, right? You think fleetingly, your hand burying itself in his hair as you keen. “Fucking shit, toots, do that again,” he growls, his lust dark eyes locking in on yours.

You do, threading your fingers through the silky strands of his hair and pulling. He hisses and leans forward, scraping his teeth against your throat. The feel of them rasping over the gland at the base of your neck makes your pussy constrict violently around his cock, and he curses.

“Mother fuck, you are tight.” He licks a stripe from your collar bone to your throat. “Toots, this is—ugh, fuck—gonna have to keep you, you know that, don’t you?” He’s rolling his hips into yours, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he mumbles all the things he’s going to do to you, all the ways he’s going to make sure you remember the feel of his cock.

“Oh fucking God,” You wail, sobbing as you throw your head back. You’re cumming so hard you can’t think, can’t see—staring blindly up at the roof of the car as you feel the base of his cock thicken and swell. Bucky presses his face between your breasts, his curses muffled by your skin as he sheathes himself tightly into your cunt, holding you in place as he cums. You can feel the hot, hard jets of his spend against the abused walls of your pussy, feel it leaking out around the base of his knot.

He leans you back against the dash, staring admiringly down the plane of your body to where your pussy is stuck fast on his cock.

“Is this how you always apologize?” You ask after a moment, gulping air down into your bereft lungs.

“No,” he admits, laughing as he smooths hair out of his face. “But I dunno, I could make a habit of it.” You smile dopily back at him, feeling your hindbrain release it’s death-grip on your consciousness. Oh fuck.

“Shit, what time is it?” You sit up, wincing as his knot pulls at your cunt while you search for your phone. You hope you’re not late—Priscilla having to fend off Maurice twice in one day was not the fate you were hoping to leave your best friend to.

“1:45,” he answers, pointing behind you to the dash. You sigh with relief—fifteen minutes till you’ve got to be back at work. “Late for something?”

“Yeah, I’ve got to be back at 2.”

“Hmm.” You feel him roll his hips into yours experimentally, and you moan, biting your lip.

“What are you doing?”

“I think I’ve got time to apologize again, don’t you?” He puts his hands on your hips, the metal one cool against your heated flesh. Bucky grins at you lopsidedly, licking his lips. “And if you’re free for dinner later, I can apologize again then too.”

[venusjeon]

joglar de gèsta

you manage to escape death when your not-so-lucky family is overthrown from Aquitaine, and the only way to avenge them and restore your conquered kingdom back to power is by asking your cousin for help. but the journey to him is a dangerous one for a princess on her own, so you must travel escorted by… a jongleur.

♔ PAIRING: jongleur!taehyung x princess!reader

♔ GENRE: historical au, angst, smut

♔ WORD COUNT: ...17.3k😶

♔ WARNINGS: huge age gap, minor characters death, period-typical sexism (as... sigh, always), aNd ThEre wAs OnLy oNe Bed, mild swearing/violence/drinking, BICKERING, attempt of sexual assault, kissing, grinding, loss of virginity, quiet sex, jungkook is a horrible guy in this lol

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: butchered french history even though i made a whole lot of research to write this but let's ignore that :D

1102

There was a forest right outside BORDÈUS. You’d always gaze down at the trees that mantled most of the landscape whenever you and your ladies-in-waiting fancied a walk on the high ramparts. It was calming, somehow. A contrast from the busy city at the other side of the walls.

Your father and brothers always used to complain that it was a military disadvantage because one could scarcely see an advancing army under the green but for you, at present, it was the opposite. The rest of the soldiers who had just taken the capital city of Aquitaine were probably lurking about, ready to kill you as they had hundreds in the past hour, but the thick vegetation shielded your escape.

There was a command you’d been given that was engraved on your bones, and it was to run. So run you did.

Away from the screams of peasants who feared they’d share the same fate as those who’d fought back, and away from the kingdom that surrounded the castle you’d grown up in. The kingdom that wasn’t yours anymore.

It hadn’t held such title for long, admittedly. Aquitaine had been a duchy under the French Crown for centuries until some months ago, when your father had decided to break off from it and its, in his own words, tyrannical rule. And so he’d got himself anointed and gone from duke to king and you, from lady to princess. But furious at the offence, the King of France had sent his son to invade back the new independent kingdom and teach its people a lesson for daring to defy his God-given authority.

It was common knowledge that Prince Jungkook was a master of warfare, so the whole venture had only taken half a day, to your family’s misfortune. You’d seen from your hiding place how he’d not hesitated to run them through with his sword in the throne room, a grin on his face even when their blood splattered all over him. The image would forever plague your dreams.

He’d left afterwards, called by one of his men, and you’d taken the chance to run to your mother’s body and kneel beside it, grasping her shoulders to try to shake her awake... in vain. She was gone, as well as your father and brothers. Hurried footsteps could be heard outside, but you didn’t care if they’d find you, didn’t want to live after witnessing your family meet such a horrendous end. If you were killed too, all the better.

Except it wasn’t a French soldier that entered the room, but a servant. The most loyal of subjects, she managed to convince you that surrendering was cowardly, and that your family wouldn’t rest in peace until they and the Aquitanians were avenged. She made you swap clothes next and grabbed your hand to lead you out of the castle.

Everything had happened so fast since that it only survived in your memory in flashes. You did remember that at some point you separated, and the last thing she told you was to run and find Sir Seokjin, a knight who’d been in the service of your family for years. How many times you’d seen him train in the courtyard with your brothers and begged to be taught swordsmanship alongside them... Finding him was impossible, for he was probably also dead, but running you could do.

So it was that camouflaged between those many trees, you left Bordèus behind at full speed, not even stopping to catch your breath. If you were seen by the French and somehow recognised, Prince Jungkook himself might put you to death, and you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

The sun was almost set when you spotted an inn. For a second you thought it was a product of your imagination, but the wooden structure was still there after blinking a few times and rubbing your wet eyes. There, so close you smelled fresh-baked bread.

Yes, this was a risk you needed to take.

A bell announced your entrance to the few men sat on tables, too busy drinking ale or conversing to notice or care that you were standing by the door. Faced with a lack of women, it began to dawn on you there were no guards around to protect you in case of danger, no Sir Seokjin. There was nothing you could do to defend yourself in case any of the men there wanted to hurt you, and none would believe a princess had walked into an inn if you threatened to have them hanged.

“Want anything, love?” a warm female voice coming from behind brought you back from your brooding. The innkeeper’s wife, what a relief!

You nodded shyly. “Yes… I’d settle for a drop of water, but I have no coin to pay you with.”

“Oh,” the woman exhaled, compassion drawing her brows together. She likely thought you were a beggar, and none could blame her. Sweat soaked your hair and there were also twigs in it, courtesy of a rock that had made you trip and roll all over the ground. A hand on your back, she gently led you to the counter. “Well, first let’s put some food in your stomach and then we’ll talk payment. Don’t you worry about that.”

As expected, her cooking was far from the quality of court you were accustomed to, but there were more pressing matters to worry about.

“Food and drink I can give you for free this one time,” she said a while later, when you were finishing the meal she’d prepared, “but if you want to stay the night, you’ll have to sleep in the stables.” With a final swallow, you nodded, grateful all the same. By that late hour, the hall was empty save for the two of you.

Or so you’d thought because suddenly, a man appeared next to you and dropped a few gold coins on the counter. “Give her a bed, Beatris. I’ll pay for it.”

Your lips parted. Who was he and why was he helping you out? He’d heard you carried no money so, did he expect you to pay him back in… kind? If that was the case, you were ready to throw your wine cup all over him, whatever the consequences.

But it wasn’t. He just went upstairs and bafflingly enough, that was the end of it.

Beatris then showed you to a free room and once settled, the horrors of that day came to you in bits and pieces as though your heart, knowing all of them would break you, had wisely rationed what memories to give you back. You cried yourself to sleep, praying to wake up in your bedchamber the next day and for the invasion to have been a nightmare. For no one to have died.

The past had indeed not changed in the morning, but you decided the future would be different. It had to be. The sadness and grief inside you morphed into the hatred that was to move you forward, as it became clear you couldn’t afford to be emotional.

What you ought to do was find Yoongi. He was a cousin you’d not met in person since your childhood days but most importantly, the Holy Roman Emperor’s son-in-law. Not only would he grant his protection to you, but he’d wage war on France for massacring his family. It was a question of honour. And as such, he’d leave Prince Jungkook for you to kill, something you were looking quite forward to.

When you went downstairs, you met the innkeeper. He wasn’t too pleased his wife wished to serve you a free breakfast out of pity, but you assured him you’d be out of his hair shortly.

“Go up north, you say?” He looked at you up and down with a raised eyebrow. “Without any money? I doubt you’ll get far.”

He wasn’t wrong. You weren’t even wearing jewellery that could be sold, having swapped everything with your servant… The thought of her made you feel guilty, as she’d probably been killed in your stead. Her sacrifice would not be forgotten. You’d use it to cast away the temptation of giving up. “I have to try.”

“We don’t know much about northern travel routes, love,” Beatris chimed in, “but why don’t you ask Taehyung? He’s a jongleur.”

That was it! Jongleurs, minstrels, bards… However one preferred to call them, they were men of entertainment who travelled from city to city performing songs of heroic deeds. If there was one around, perhaps you could offer to be his assistant in exchange for his escort. Not the best plan, but a start nonetheless. “Taehyung?”

“The man who paid for your stay last night,” she said, glancing at the door. “I believe he still hasn’t left, but I’d hasten if I were you.”

After thanking her a thousand times for the advice and breakfast, you sprinted outside and found the man by the stable. He was sat on a boulder eating an apple, and the sunlight that filtered through the trees’ leaves above fell upon his face, making it shine like angels did in paintings. Was it a sign from God or was Taehyung just enjoying the faint warmth of spring? Whatever it was, you decided to disrupt his peaceful morning and approach him.

Blocking the light with your frame once in front of him, you opened your mouth to speak, but realised you hadn’t really planned on what to say without giving away your identity.

“Can I help you?” he asked rather unfazed, to which you involuntarily frowned. It was hard to get into the role of a commoner when, as a princess, you were used to people currying favour with you. Everyone listened carefully to whatever you said, laughed at your jokes, and lowered their gazes to show you respect.

This is fair treatment, you told yourself, so you’d better not let it strike you dumb.

“I believe you can. Are you Taehyung the jongleur?”

“Yes. And you are?”

Already, you did not like him. He spoke as though he wanted to be left alone, which complicated matters for you.

“Y/N.” Fuck’s sake. Off to a great start. Well… there were others called Y/N, it wasn’t an exclusive royal name. “Is there any chance you’re headed to Aquisgran? You might also know it by Aix-la-Chapelle, or AACHEN.”

“Why?” He continued to calmly eat his apple, and you tried to think of a believable backstory.

“I was a novice in a convent that got burned down. Our Lord took every other life in the fire, including that of my parents who’d come to visit, and left me with nothing but sorrow… The only relatives I have left reside in Aachen.”

There was no need for you to feign grief, but had your story fooled the storyteller?

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Taehyung said honestly, you could see in his eyes, and somehow found yourself blinking back tears in the short pause that followed. “Aachen is far from here. You’ll need money for the journey but if that’s what you want from me, you’ve picked the wrong man. A jongleur doesn’t earn much.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want your money, I want you to take me there.”

He scoffed. Scoffed?

“I wasn’t aware I look like a nursemaid,” he said before taking another bite. You hoped he’d choke. “Look, even if I were going to Aachen, I wouldn’t take you with me. You’d be a burden, another mouth to feed. It’s about a month’s trip on horseback and I only have mine, the creature can’t carry two people for long. Not to mention how inappropriate it would be to keep company with an unmarried young girl. No, forget it. I travel alone.”

“I’ll walk quickly beside you and the horse,” you suggested, forced to let his dismissive tone pass. “And my relatives will reward you for bringing me home safely, I give you my word.”

“That is, if they don’t slam their door in your face for leaving the habit. It’s looked down upon, you know? Don't give your word so lightly.”

“Please,” you resorted to begging, desperation overshadowing the anger Taehyung was provoking in you. “It’ll be dangerous if I’m on my own.”

There was another pause as he thought about it, in which you held your breath. But shattering your plans, he shook his head to conclude with, “I’m sorry, child. All I can do is give you directions.”

You breathed out through your nose in defeat, then nodded. “No, thank you. I’ll try my luck with the foxes…”

There was a road next to the inn you began to follow, what else could you do?

You’d just have preferred to be accompanied by a jongleur as you walked it, even if it was one as discourteous as Taehyung. At least that way you had a chance at surviving the trip. You kicked the small rocks on your path and wondered what would come first: starvation, predators, or robbers. Upon realising you carried nothing of value, the latter might take you to do as they pleased, and how were you to stop them? Sir Seokjin, wherever he was, probably regretted having taught you so little of self-defence while he lived.

An hour hadn’t yet passed when the noise of hooves clattering drew your notice. It came from behind but when you turned around, you were more surprised than grateful to see not robbers, but Taehyung. His horse reached your side and he held out his hand to help you mount it, all while avoiding your curious gaze. Evidently, his actions were flavoured with reluctance.

“Now I’ll feel guilty if anything happens to you…”

At nightfall, the two of you reached ENGOLEIME.

Spending so many hours with Taehyung had confirmed your suspicions that he wasn’t very talkative, and that actually came as a relief. Given all that had happened, you weren’t in the mood for conversation, although you did learn a few things. His age, for instance. He didn’t look it, but Taehyung was about a decade older, which explained why he annoyingly kept referring to you as a child despite your clearly having been an adult for years. It must be the age difference and not that he thought you a brat, right?

Another thing was that he didn’t remember where he was from, or which of the many languages he spoke was his mother tongue. He claimed his parents had died when he was a toddler, that he’d been fending for himself ever since, and even though you were now in a similar position, you wondered what was worse. To grow up without a family or to have it taken from you…

It was that early loss that had led Taehyung to minstrelsy. He'd followed the lead of famous jongleurs since the age of ten to end up becoming the one of the best, you bore witness that night at an inn’s tavern.

A large crowd had gathered to see him perform a song about a knight who rescued a princess from a ferocious dragon, and all were immersed in the tale. Only the melody of a lute he played himself accompanied his rhymes, such a silvery voice didn’t invite for more to adorn it. But it was the way he told the tale, as familiarly as a lifelong friend would and so compellingly, like he’d been there himself. No challenge had therefore been met in earning everyone’s captivation and at times laughter, including yours. It gave your soul a break from grieving.

His performance finished earlier than anyone would’ve liked, and that was your cue to stand up from your seat and collect the money of quite a lot of pleased costumers. It wasn’t much, them being peasants, but more than enough to pay you both dinner.  

“How does it end, then?” you asked Taehyung after dropping his bag of money on the table and sitting in front of him. By his grim face, he was definitely done with the friendly act, and back to normal.

“What does?”

“Between the princess and the knight!” Wasn’t it obvious? It was the only part of the story he hadn’t bothered to wrap up. “He saves her, then what?”

“That’s not relevant, what matters is that he’s forgiven by the king,” Taehyung explained, thanking the serving maid who brought you dinner with a nod. He didn’t so much as glance at her, and so remained ignorant to the fact that she couldn’t take her eyes off him, even as she left. Yes, despite his intimidating air, Taehyung was… not precisely ill-favoured.

You leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Well, make something up and tell me, I’m on tenterhooks!”

“Fine.” Taehyung gave in with a sigh. “She marries a prince and he grieves her love for the rest of his life.”

“That's rubbish.”

“That's realistic.”

Disbelief made your lips part. “Says the man who sings of knights who kill giants and dragons!”

“I don't write the songs, just spread them,” Taehyung justified, but when you were about to tell him he had no excuse for being so boring if he was so good at pretending otherwise, you noticed many of the people around were staring. Judging you with their gazes, it rather seemed. “They think you’re a whore.”

Your head whipped back to Taehyung and alarmed, you whispered, “What?��

“I told you it’d be inappropriate to travel together,” he said, although he was unbothered by the opinion of strangers, calmly eating his meal instead. “They think I’ve employed your services.” A short laugh escaped him out of nowhere. “I bet they regret giving their coin to me seeing as this is how I’m apparently spending it.”

It was an uncomfortable situation, so you opted to change the subject by taking hold of his lute and brushing your fingers on a few chords. The first notes of your mother’s favourite song… “I know how to play this, and other instruments. I could join you onstage. A bit of variety would make more money, don’t you think?”

Taehyung shook his head. “Most female jongleurs end up as prostitutes so if you reddened just now, imagine performing in front of an audience who does little more than sneering at you. I’ll save you the embarrassment. Besides, the music has a similar structure in most of the songs, yes, but if I forget something and improvise, we’d be out of harmony.”

“Write the lyrics down, then. I’ll do it for you if you don’t know how.”

“If I wrote things down, I wouldn’t have such a prodigious memory,” Taehyung said with his mouth full, then looked up from his food. “And I’ve known my letters probably longer than you’ve been alive, child.”

Arrogant prick. How were you to know that, when he was lowborn?

Troubadours, who were the ones up your street, were as well several steps higher in the social ladder, and so received a proper education. They mostly composed sophisticated poetry that was sometimes performed at court, where they lived, but usually read by the nobility—not to say they didn’t delight with their songs of chivalry and courtly love, for which you’d pay them generously.

Jongleurs, on the other hand, were usually illiterate and wandered through Europe orally sharing stories whose origins even they didn’t know. It shouldn’t have offended Taehyung that you’d tarred him with the same brush as his guild. He was simply insufferable.

Still, you swallowed your contempt for him along with your dinner, reminding yourself he was helping you get to Aachen. Perhaps someday you might convince him to come sing at the castle. His manners could be overlooked in favour of his talent.

“Would you ever go out of your way to perform at courts? I heard Princess Y/N, for instance, liked the kind of stories you tell.”

Using both the third person and the past tense on yourself was strange, to say the least, but news had spread about the whole of the royal family being slaughtered. No one was to suspect the reality was another.

Taehyung tilted his head to a side. “Aren’t convents supposed to be isolated from society?”

You shrugged. “I was never a good nun.”

“No, I can see,” he scoffed, although you didn’t know what he meant by it. “Unless a king orders me to, I don’t do courts, no matter how much he offers to pay me.”

You were about to ask him why when the maidservant from earlier returned to the table, making sure to lean almost invasively close to Taehyung so that he’d take notice of her as she picked up his now empty plate. Her eyes wouldn’t leave his and yours, her insolence. Must she interrupt your conversation with… her beauty? Was that all it took for her to drive a man’s attention away from you and seduce him?

It turned out not, for even though Taehyung was aware of the maid’s desire to lie with him, he still looked away and cleared his throat for her to take a hint he wasn’t interested. She left not saying a word, her expression showing she wasn’t pleased that she’d been ignored. You had to suppress a smile.

“Are you not going to spend the night with her?” you teased, proving you weren’t the demure little girl Taehyung had you for.

He raised his eyebrows as though the thought had come to you out of nowhere and not from what had just happened. “She’s not my type. Besides, I’m sleeping with you tonight.”

Drinking while he answered wasn’t a good idea, you found out the second your gasping turned into choking.

“I beg your pardon?”

Upstairs, he explained that a bed was without charge for him most of the time because it was in the interest of innkeepers to accommodate those notorious for attracting clientele, like jongleurs were. But just one bed, in just one room.

“Trust me, it’s better this way,” Taehyung told you as he unfastened his shirt. You hugged yourself and turned your gaze away, not as confident as minutes ago.

“I fail to see how.”

“The tavern downstairs is full of drunk men. If any of them decided to break into a room in search of pleasure and you were in one of your own, I couldn’t protect you.” He noticed that was a kindness you did not expect from him. “If we travel together, you’re under my protection.”

It did comfort you to know that, given you had no one else, but a part of you wondered whether he’d turn you in to the French if he found out who you really were. In that moment you chose to believe he wouldn’t.

“For that reason and the fact that you earned this bed, I would not dream to take up your space on it,” you said with a small bow of your head. Taehyung laughed.

“Alright, suit yourself. Know that you’re welcome to climb next to me when you can’t sleep on the hard floor.” He tossed a pillow over and you caught it right before it hit your face.

Nothing else was said that night, one you spent sat by the window while staring at the black sky. If things went as hoped, the next time you saw a full moon would be from your bedchamber.

By the end of the week, you were almost in PEITIEUS.

Taehyung deciding to stay for a few days in his old friend Pèire’s house had been cause for an argument—since you were already making stops at every town so he could make a living, thus prolonging the trip—but his insistence that you get some rest after seven days of walking briskly to catch up with him and the horse managed to convince you. That, and the promise of quality food.

Pèire’s wife Franceza, who was about your age, made the best pies in Aquitaine according to Taehyung, and you happened to have a sweet tooth that had been deprived of anything sugary ever since you’d left Bordèus.

What you did not have was knowledge of the kitchen, something Taehyung had trouble believing, given you were an ordinary woman. The lie that only just veiled your noble upbringing was that your duties as a novice had revolved around the thread and needle, not cooking. Franceza had been kind enough to offer teaching you but despite that being a skill you’d never be in need of, her friendship was a grace you thanked God for. With light talk and laughter, she made you forget the pain and wish you could stay for a bit longer, even if Taehyung would have to also be there...

On your third and second-to-last day in that house, he came up in the conversation you and Franceza were having while making one of her famous pies.

“Does he have a stick up his arse for any particular reason, or is that just standard in the jongleurs’ guild?”

She laughed, “I don’t know many, but I doubt it. Taehyung just... He’s seen better days.”

There was a hint of pity in her last words that piqued your curiosity. “What do you mean? From what little he’s told me, I thought his life had been one of struggle.”

“There was a time that wasn’t the case,” Franceza said before realising the kitchen’s door was open. Carefully, she closed it and led you away from it. If she feared being overheard, you gathered this must be something serious she shouldn’t be talking about, but as a lover of gossip, you couldn’t wait for it. “Years ago, shortly after Pèire and I married, Taehyung was summoned to the Holy Roman Emperor’s court. He was excited to learn from the troubadours who lived there, and dreamed of becoming one himself, but...”

“But?”

“He fell in love with a princess.” A small gasp escaped you, as the emperor only had one daughter. Your cousin’s wife. “Agnes, I think her name was? I can’t remember, but he’d write poems to her and perform them in front of the whole court. Everyone brushed it off as courtly love, no one knew it was requited and... consumed.”

“Consumed?” Franceza gave you a look that made you understand at once. “Oh... Surely not!” You hadn’t met Princess Agnes, but Yoongi claimed in his letters that she was a good wife. He praised her for being fertile and having borne him an heir barely a year into their marriage. Could it be... that Taehyung had fathered her son? The thought alone of him having an affair with a princess was past belief. Well, at least he fancied your kind.

“He wanted to elope with her,” Franceza continued, “but she refused, of course. After all, he was just a jongleur. A handsome one, but still beneath her. The king soon arranged a marriage with Prince Yoongi of Aquitaine and she dismissed Taehyung from both her bed and the court. When we next met him, he seemed a different person. Pèire says heartbreak changes men in ways women cannot understand.”

The following morning, you resumed your journey wistfully, after having to lie to Franceza by vowing to meet again. A part of you was starting to doubt there would be a coming back to Aquitaine at all.

“We won’t pass through PARIS,” Taehyung informed you as the horse that carried you both deepened into the forest. Because it had rained the previous night and the ground was all muddy, he’d easily been talked into letting you ride with him, in the same saddle. He was behind you, his chest acting as the back of a chair. “Pèire advised me not to, what with the political turmoil, and I agree.”

“Does that mean it’ll take us longer to get to Aachen?” For the first time, your complaining tone didn’t rankle Taehyung, as he knew he could’ve made a lot of money in the capital, and therefore shared your disappointment. Now, avoiding Paris was in your interest, but the cost of taking too long to muster an army to take back a kingdom could result in failure. So did your brothers use to say when debating about other wars over breakfast.

“On the contrary.”

Taehyung’s ever so short and almost uninterested replies made you remember what Franceza had told you about him. It was hard to imagine such a man writing love poems and losing himself to romance—or being pleasant to be around of, at that. There were worse tragedies that could happen to a person, like yours, and politeness was yet to leave your blood. Taehyung must be uncouth in nature, which led you to believe Princess Agnes had no taste in men.

But as you rode through that forest in silence, you came to appreciate his presence. How scary it’d be to find yourself alone there. Taehyung’s job entailed constant travel and he had only his horse to keep him company.

“Isn’t it lonely, being a jongleur?” you asked all of a sudden, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“I could ask the same about a nun. Aren’t you lonely of men?” His implication made even the root of your hair turn red, which, along with your face, you were glad he couldn’t see. What he could feel was your body stiffening, but he made no mention of it.

As any woman, you yearned for a passionate love story that might as well be related by a troubadour, but you were wise enough to set aside fantasy in the real world. Intimacy out of wedlock would never cross your mind. The loss of a peasant girl’s virtue was of little consequence, but that of a princess would make news all across Europe. News that would perhaps be spread by Taehyung, as many approached jongleurs to learn of faraway happenings. Such as the fall of Aquitaine.

“I don’t need men to live.” Taehyung laughed, to which you frowned.

“If that’s the case, then why are we travelling together? Oh, that’s right. Because I am a man.”

An impulse to push him out of the horse had to be repressed.

Although he was right, you hated to admit. You were grateful for all he’d done for you so far, and for the warmth his body provided at present, on that chilly day. That warmth tempted you to ask, “Fair play. But if a woman can’t live without a man, then a man can’t live without a woman. Aren’t you lonely of women?”

“That I turned down that maid back in Engoleime doesn’t mean I do the same with all of them.” For reasons you didn’t know, the way his breath brushed your neck gave you goosebumps.

It was cold. Yes, that was it.

“I mean settling down,” you clarified, red again. “Starting a family?”

It took him a second to answer, ease gone from his voice, “No. I don’t long for that.”

No wonder, after the woman he loved had forsaken him to have a family with another man... Yours came to mind, and how death had taken them from you like Yoongi had taken Agnes from Taehyung. Except she’d gone willingly.

“To answer your initial question,” you tried to lighten the mood, “I was lonely of men, but after so long with one like you, I think I’ve changed my mind.”

You couldn’t see, but the corner of his lips quirked into a smile.

A week later, you arrived in ORLÉANS. French territory.

Luckily, you spoke the so-called langue d’oïl, so Taehyung proposed to use it between you instead of Occitan even in private not to risk the enmity of anyone. Albeit bitterly, you agreed. Festivals to welcome spring after a harsh winter decorated every town with flowers, flags, and joy, but rage clouded over you at all times, as you were certain people added the death of your loved ones and the conquering of your hated kingdom to their celebration.

From the stage on one of Orléans’ squares, Taehyung could sense how uncomfortable you were in the crowd. He never lost you out of his sight, and you always seemed to enjoy the show. What had changed as of late?

Once finished telling a two-hour long legend about yet another knight of fair renown, he helped you collect the money of those who could afford to give it. “Is something wrong?”

“I want this trip to be over, that’s what’s wrong,” you said curtly, regretting it before the sentence was over. Taehyung wasn’t to blame for your misfortunes. “But you did well back there... I liked it.”

His nod and subsequent silence told you he knew there was something you were hiding from him and that if you hadn’t told him already, it meant you didn’t want him to know. So there was little point in asking about it.

The rest of the morning was spent within that same square enjoying the work of other entertainers, some of whom were musicians. Their folkloric tunes invited everyone to dance but you and Taehyung remained away, both preferring to observe as you ate a piece of bread some baker had generously given you for free. That is, until a small group of girls dragged you into the action.

They meant well, just to cheer up what seemed two people who’d just attended a funeral, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pretend to be having fun. Especially because one of the girls kept making eyes at Taehyung, and he’d smiled at her! Was she the kind he’d not turn down? Were y–

“You little devil!” an angry male voice exclaimed, and you turned around to see a man grab a boy no older than eight by the clothes. “Give it back or I’ll have you whipped!”

You approached them without hesitation and owing to the element of surprise, managed to push the man away from the child, whom you shielded with your body. Taehyung quickly followed, although he wasn’t as eager to get in trouble.

“Leave him alone, he’s just a boy!” You glared at the man, who would’ve struck you for your boldness had Taehyung not been at your side.

“A thief is what he is! He stole my bag of coins, and I’ll give him a good beating if he doesn’t return it.” The boy hid behind your skirts like a pup behind his mother, guilt all over his face.

Kneeling to be nearer to his height, you asked gently, “Is it true?” and after he’d glanced from you to the man a few times, he nodded with his eyes cast down, handing you the bag. You flung it to its owner, who caught it in the air. “There. Count them if you must.”

The man shook his head, unsatisfied. “He should be punished for stealing!”

You stood up ready to defend the boy, but Taehyung stepped forward at the same time to block your way.

“He’s our son and he’ll be punished at home, rest assured,” he lied. “We apologise for his behaviour.”

His intervention was entirely welcome, despite the fact that to have a son so grown, he was making you out to be much older than you really were. Probably on the basis of this, the man wasn’t all that convinced Taehyung was telling the truth, but he wasn’t brave enough to challenge another male adult in public—least of all one who looked as intimidating as your fake husband. So he just left.

Soon, you found yourselves in a tavern, buying the boy a meal. Giraut, he was called.

“You are aware we have to feed the horse as well?” Taehyung complained you were spending his money once food was brought to the table, even though he would’ve done the same.

Giraut had shyly explained to the two of you that since his mother was too busy working in the fields to bring him to the city festival, he had come behind her back, on his very own, and because he’d not thought to take some money with him, he’d resorted to pickpocketing it when hungry. After giving him a talk on why that was so naughty a thing to do that it could’ve earned him a flogging, he’d promised never to do it again.

“I’m not eating if it means he gets to,” you said, surprised at yourself for doing so much for a subject of the king who ordered the death of your family.

“Well, I’m not offering to share my stew with you.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to. You have the appetite of a bear.” Giraut giggled at that, and you ruffled his hair.

“You’re not from here, are you?” he asked. “You speak with an accent.”

“I...”

“Don’t be rude, she has a speech impediment,” Taehyung lied again, and you kicked him under the table. Of all things he could’ve come up with... “We’re on a pilgrimage to pray to a famous saint he heals her.”

“Beware of witches if you travel at night,” Giraut said nonchalantly as he chewed on his food. “They lurk in the forest when it’s dark.”

You didn’t know what scared you more: his words, or that he’d said them in a rhyme. Taehyung rolled his eyes at your reaction, clearly not one who believed in superstition—and surprised you seemed to. Didn’t you use to be a novice?

As soon as lunch was over, Giraut ran off home to his mother, and your trip was as well resumed.

The sun set earlier than either expected that night, something Taehyung just knew you attributed to witches. As if the growling of your stomach hadn’t been bothering him for hours on end, he’d also had to put up with your constant jumping and gasping every time the wind made the trees’ leaves swish. He damned the day he’d agreed to take you to your relatives.

“Scaredy cat, are we, Y/N?” he mocked you as he tied the horse to a tree.

“I am not! But I’m sleeping beside you tonight...”

“Fine. Just don’t think I’m possessed if you hear me snoring.”

“I’d get on the horse and never look back if that happened,” you confessed, snuggling next to him when he lay down and then covering you both with a thick blanket.

You’d grown used to Taehyung’s proximity. Sleeping on the cold, hard floors of inns was unseemly for a princess, so you’d joined him in bed before your first week with him had come to an end. That, too, would be frowned upon, but nobody need find out. Besides, there was no actual sin you’d committed to be ashamed of.

And so it was that you fell asleep next to Taehyung without the anxiety that came with fear, holding lightly onto the fabric of his sleeve as a way of assuring yourself that he wasn’t going to leave you alone in that forest.

He was indeed there when you were woken up in the middle of the night by the most terrifying sound. A far-off eerie singing. 

The light of the moon and stars allowed you to see everything around well enough, but that was the thing. There was nothing there. Shutting your eyes and clinging even more to Taehyung, you tried to convince yourself that you were imagining the singing, dreaming it. When it stopped, you sighed in relief, your heartbeat and almost panting the only sounds in the forest.

Until a twig snapped in half. And then another one, and another, and so on.

Taehyung jumped awake because of it, grabbing the dagger he usually kept under his pillow and pointing it at the dark. “Where are they?” he whispered, but you were too frightened to speak, so instead gestured with your head at what you’d spotted moving in the distance. It was the silhouette of a woman slowly advancing towards you, face hooded by her cloak.

“A w-witch,” you managed to let out when she halted before you.

“Don’t be a fool. She’s just a woman, and unarmed, by the looks of it,” he told you, yet sweat glistened on his temples when the sound of multiple arrows being drawn somewhere amongst the trees proved him wrong. “Who are you and what do you want?”

The woman didn’t move as she said in her haunted voice, “She’s right, Taehyung.” Your eyes widened from under the blanket, where you lay paralysed by fear, but he refused to react, telling himself that there must be a logical explanation for her knowing his name. “As for what we want, it lies inside your chests.”

“Our... hearts?”

“Let me guess, for a spell?” Taehyung would’ve found the whole thing ridiculous had arrows not been pointed at you both. “So, what they say is true. You are servants of the Devil.”

What was he thinking?! As a way of telling him not to anger the witches, you kicked him on the leg, but he ignored you.

“Our magic comes from nature,” the woman corrected him calmly, “and we use it to help others as white witches. That doesn’t mean some spells don’t require sacrifices.”

Learning their magic was only medicinal gave you the courage to stand up and ask, “And why must it be us? We’ve not done anything to you.”

“Because we’re the only ones they can get away with murdering,” Taehyung answered for the woman. More than ever, you missed Sir Seokjin’s presence. And sword. “As travellers, we have no home, so we won’t be missed. The question is, how do you know so much about us?”

“Hear that, sisters?” she asked, a chorus of echoing laughter following. You and Taehyung looked around once more, but the archers were well hidden. “Handsome and clever. What a pity.” She raised her hand as a signal, and you held your breath when Taehyung embraced you, using his body as a shield. It all ended not avenging your family and fighting for your kingdom, but there, with him. “Loose!”

“No!”

Time seemed to have frozen as, eyes shut, you waited for arrows to pierce your body. But they never did, and you looked up from Taehyung’s chest to find out the one who’d shouted had been none other than Giraut.

“What the hell are you doing here?” the woman voiced your thoughts, and removed her hood to reveal her anger. They looked curiously alike.

“Not them, mother, please! They’re the ones I told you about, the ones who saved me!”

Clearly pretending she was unaware of that, she turned back to face you, and you and Taehyung separated, piecing together that she’d been caught in the act. “They’re the jongleur and his wife?”

“Yes!” Giraut exclaimed, making you look away in embarrassment. Well, you preferred wife to prostitute or servant.

The woman stared at the two of you in silence for ages, trying to make up her mind on whether she should allow you to live or not, regardless of Giraut’s presence. Eventually, she said, “I suppose it would be immoral to take the hearts of those who aided my reckless son.” Immoral fell short, in Taehyung’s opinion. “You can come out, sisters!”

One by one, the group of girls whom you’d met the day before at the festival came forward from out of nowhere. Ha! You knew there was a reason you’d disliked the girl Taehyung had smiled at.

“Are we free to go?” he asked, wishing nothing more than for this episode to be over already. He’d not be so meek if he weren’t outnumbered, though, and would kill them all for trying to do the same to you.

The woman glanced at Giraut while pursing her lips. She had no choice but to let you go if she didn’t want to earn his hatred. “I don’t see why not.”

Taehyung turned to you. “Then, pack up. It’s almost sunrise, so we might as well get going now.” In your tiredness, you groaned, but went to do as he said. Better to leave than remain among murderers.

“Wait.” The woman made you stop in your tracks. She approached you, and even though Taehyung had tucked the dagger into his belt a while ago, he gripped its handle again, wary. “I can see inside your soul.” You knew of what she spoke when she leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Proceed with caution, for betrayal lurks in the shadows like we do. This is my prophecy.”

She leaned back and you would’ve stayed stunned there all night had it not been for Taehyung’s rushing.

As Pèire had advised, Paris was avoided en route to Aachen, something you were more than grateful for after the incident with the witches. Death had almost claimed your life twice and as they say, third time’s a charm—in the capital, there was a greater risk you’d be recognised. Giraut’s mother’s words lingered in your mind for that very reason, making you doubt Taehyung’s loyalty. Who else could betray you, when you had no one else?

Regardless of what was to happen in the future, he’d been expressing his frustration and remorse due to what happened. More had come out of his mouth in the last few days than in all the time you’d known him.

“I should’ve at least bargained for them to spare your life,” he beat himself up again. You were in the stables of an inn near REIMS grooming his horse as he angrily ate an apple outside the stall, “not stand there like an idiot waiting for us to be killed.”

“There was nothing you could’ve said or done, I’ve told you a hundred times. Giraut was our only chance at getting out of there alive.” To think others wouldn’t be so lucky...

“You could’ve tried something too instead of cowering under my blanket like a baby.”

You stopped brushing the horse for a moment to eye him askance. “Don’t speak while eating, dear, we wouldn’t want you to choke and die.”

He scoffed, “I prefer death by apple to death by witch.”

“That much is clear to me.”

“Will you stop wasting time talking and hurry up, child? I want to get to Reims before the day ends.”

Perhaps it would be good if he betrayed you. That way you’d have a legitimate excuse to have him hanged, drawn, and quartered. “I’m almost done!” Turning your back on him, you were going to give the horse its few final brushes, but a voice you immediately knew made you freeze in your spot.

“Good day! I’m looking for Taehyung the jongleur.”

Please, don’t let it be true.

“You’ve found him,” he said before biting into the apple again.

“Prince Jungkook of France stands before you. I’ve come to require your services at court.”

Holding your breath as though that would make you invisible, you heard Taehyung bow to him after a short pause of surprise. “Your Highness does me a great honour by asking in person, but I must decline.”

The prince was taken aback. “Why? I’ll pay you handsomely. My father’s birthday approaches, and I want the best jongleur in the land to sing to him at the feast, a month from–”

Your heart was pounding so fast and hard that it felt as though a nail was being hammered into your chest, attaching your feet to the ground, preventing them from moving. The fear those witches had conjured up to possess you didn’t come close to what you felt now. 

Surely he couldn’t be there, having a conversation with Taehyung? Trying to charm him with the same smile that had played on his lips the day he put your family to death?

“Unless the king himself commands me to perform in his court,” Taehyung boldly interrupted him, “I won’t do it.”

“My command isn’t good enough?”

“Not equal to a king’s.”

Though unused to such bluntness, Prince Jungkook chuckled. The sound made you so sick that he probably sensed it, as you felt his gaze neglect Taehyung in favour of a sudden new interest that overcame him. It was time to turn around. “And who is this lovely flower? Your daughter?”

“Daughter?” Taehyung choked on his apple—which, in lighter circumstances, you would’ve made fun of. At present, you could only glare at your enemy. “She’s a travel companion. Y/N. I’m taking her to her family in the north from... Orléans.” To learn you were from the rebellious region he’d recently painted with blood was a risk that needn’t be taken. Who knew how he’d react.

“A pleasure to meet such a beautiful lady.” Prince Jungkook waited for you to curtsey, but you refused, instead daringly holding his gaze for some time until you turned away to finish grooming the horse.

“Y/N!” Taehyung scolded in a whisper you ignored.

“What an interesting pair you two are,” the prince mused, seemingly not offended, but amused. He took a deep breath to avoid a silence as he thought, then addressed Taehyung, “I will accompany you to your destination. Maybe I just need time to win you over, and after you’ve delivered your... companion, then you can come with me to court.”

Taehyung was going to deny him again, right? Prince Jungkook could not come along!

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

Dread filled you whole on the way to Reims.

Given all the clues that led to your real identity, it would’ve been a miracle to not have yet been uncovered by the prince had it not been for your servant’s idea to switch clothes and die in your stead. He mentioned he was 'in disguise’ as well, although unescorted, boasting he needed no guards to protect him in case of trouble. You could attest to that, having seen him kill your entire family single-handedly.

Much to your disgust, he seemed to fancy you, and had offered to share his horse so that you wouldn’t have to walk. But Taehyung had fortunately noticed your aversion to him, which he attributed to your being Aquitanian and his having overthrown your king, and had made up that as a former cloistered nun, you didn’t feel comfortable around unacquainted men. So you rode with him instead.

“Tell me, then,” Prince Jungkook began, “where did your wanderings take you before Orléans?”

“Poitiers, Your Highness.” To hear the names of your cities in French instead of Occitan made you want to vomit.

“Ah, Aquitaine... If only I’d searched for you when I was down there, what a shame!”

Yes, well, you had been the one to find him.

“Your Highness was otherwise engaged.” Taehyung had to be mindful of his choice of words before royalty, but he found himself more intrigued by your reaction to the subject. How you looked away. He’d never have guessed you cared for politics.

Granted, you never had. When your father had announced his intention to make Aquitaine independent, you couldn’t wait, but not for honest reasons. Becoming a princess meant more prestige, more jewellery, and more attention. It was only after witnessing such slaughter that day that you understood your father’s hatred of the French, and his desire to be free of them. Now, hearing Prince Jungkook speak of the event as though it was nothing made you all the hungrier to restore your kingdom.

What annoyed you the most was that if things had been different, you’d have begged to be given in marriage to him. He was your age, handsome, charming… The one flaw he had was being a cold-blooded murderer. A flaw you’d soon share by carrying out your revenge.

“I was. There’s been unrest in the rebels’ land ever since, so I take it you’ll have gathered all sorts of opinions on the matter in your travels. What’s yours?”

It suddenly dawned on you that you’d never talked about it with Taehyung. Even when spreading the news of the taking of Bordèus, he’d appeared neutral. What if he’d been on France’s side all along?

“My opinion holds no value,” he said. “I’m just a teller of legends.”

“Alright, you don’t have to tell me,” the prince laughed. You wouldn’t look his way, but his next words did almost make you curse at him, feeling like a threat as they did despite his carefree tone. “But I hope we at least agree that in the face of treason, a lesson must be taught.”

That night you spent in the forest again. Nightmares of him smothering you in the darkness plagued your sleep until the morning, when the safety of sunlight comforted you enough to get a humble thirty minutes of rest. Then, Taehyung gently shook you awake, and you sat up beside him only to realise the two of you were alone.

“Where’s the prince?” you asked in a yawn. He couldn’t have gone far, as his horse and things were still there.

“Peeing.”

You looked around to make sure he wasn’t within earshot. “Where?”

Taehyung’s head whipped in your direction, “I didn’t take you for a pervert, Y/N.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned just a bit closer to whisper, “I don’t trust him. I don’t want him to travel with us.”

“Prince or not, I won’t let him touch you, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” That was a relief, actually.

“It’s not that…”

“Then what? Oh…” He understood before you could answer. “You fear I’ll go with him and leave you?” Again, that wasn’t it, but you did look down. “That won’t happen, you may be sure of it.”

You reckoned you should thank Princess Agnes for breaking his heart and making him never want to step on a castle again.

Reims went badly.

Not that you expected it wouldn’t, knowing the goddamned Prince of France was to keep you company while Taehyung entertained the town. At least he soon understood your lack of words meant you weren’t into his flirting. But the real problem was his presence.

It didn’t help your bad mood to see them drinking and laughing together that night in the inn’s tavern. Any desire you had of confessing the truth about who you were to Taehyung was fading away as quickly as a candle flame was by a breeze. They were growing too close for your taste.

“I promise you’ll be welcome at court. Everyone longs to see you perform, the troubadours first,” Prince Jungkook slurred after taking a gulp of ale. “Though I suspect that has more to do with the fact that I threatened to banish them should they write any more tedious songs about courtly love. They need new material and only you can give it to them.”

A romance hater. Yet another reason to dislike him.

Taehyung laughed, “Surely there are others. My friend Aliénor who lives in LIÈGE, she’s a retired jongleur, Your Highness, a good one. We’ll stay in her place for a couple of days, I’m sure she’ll not refuse if you ask her to take my place.”

“Can’t be that good if I haven’t heard of her.” Prince Jungkook shook his head, not willing to even consider it. Then, his eyes lit up. “But speaking of women, I might be able to pay you differently for your service.”

For the first time since meeting him, Taehyung blushed. Shyness was rare in him, you thought, if not unprecedented. “Your Highness, I…”

“Not whores. I mean having you married into the nobility,” Prince Jungkook clarified, and your eyes opened wide like those of an owl. “Mind you, it’d be the very bottom of it, you’re a jongleur after all…”

Taehyung was about to drink, but instead put his mug down on the table. “The nobility, you say?”

That was the last straw.

You stood up abruptly, earning a confused reaction from them both. Especially when you made no effort to mask your anger while saying, “I’m going to bed.”

“Sweet dreams…” you heard the prince mutter as you strode off.

Once curled up under the sheets, tears couldn’t help but stream down your face.  

All it took the only person you thought you could count on to betray you was a profitable marriage arrangement? Not that Taehyung knew he was betraying you… but he’d vowed you were under his protection, and that he wouldn’t leave you! By befriending Prince Jungkook, you were certain his words would amount to naught if you told him the truth. And that hurt.

What if you didn’t tell him, though? What if he found out some other way? The witch had prophesied betrayal. She’d mentioned nothing of failure, however, so giving up before reaching Aachen wasn’t an option.

Not long after the tears had dried on your cheeks, you began to fall asleep, calmed by a silence that ceased when the door was opened with a hard thrust. You’d make sure to nag Taehyung the whole day of tomorrow for being a drunk brute.

Except… it wasn’t Taehyung.

You turned around on the bed to see one of the men who’d been drinking downstairs. Fear seized your heart. “You cannot be here.” He didn’t say anything, just staggered where he stood, ogling you with his mouth open like a dog. “Did you not hear me?” You tried to discreetly reach for the dagger under Taehyung’s pillow but of course, he had it on his person. “My husband will be here any second.”

“Oh, will he?”

Before you could get off the bed, he grabbed your legs to pull you close. Screaming at the top of your lungs, you managed to kick him in the nose with your heel, a defence technique Sir Seokjin had taught you but one that unfortunately gained you no time to flee, as it only made the man call you a bitch. If anything, he now seemed keener on getting his way with you, fighting through his drunkenness to get hold of your legs again, spread them, and get himself in between. “No, get off me!”

You were going to scream again when he was suddenly yanked away by his clothes. It was Taehyung and the prince, the former throwing the man on the floor to repeatedly kick him on the stomach and the latter offering his hand to help you sit up. You chose to sit up on your own, quickly fixing the chemise Franceza had given you as a gift and wiping the new tears on your face with the back of your hand.

Taehyung was still furiously beating the man up after minutes had passed, the disagreeable noise of kicks and grunts filling the room. At some point, you looked up at Prince Jungkook and said in a croaky voice, “Tell him to stop.”

He obeyed despite being a prince, but seeing as Taehyung wouldn’t listen, he separated him by force from the man, whom he then had to drag downstairs as he was in no condition to so much as stand up. You thought you could finally breathe, that the horrible experience was over.

Taehyung had other plans.

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Standing up, you approached him and narrowed your swollen eyes. “What was I thinking? You think I invited him?”

“I told you once what could happen should you be alone in a room,” he wouldn’t lower his voice, enraged, “so you might as well have!”

“I said I was going to bed, and you didn’t stop me! If you were so sure of what was going to happen, this is your fault, then!”

Taehyung hoped his glaring would burn holes into your skin. He stepped forward, almost closing the distance between you. “I’m not your nursemaid, brat! You should be on your knees anyway, thanking me for running to help you!”

A brittle laugh escaped you—not that you would’ve stopped it had you known beforehand. “I’ll be damned before I kneel to the likes of you. But if you hadn’t started screaming like a madman, you would’ve received my gratitude!”

“That’d be a first!”

“How dare you!”

Prince Jungkook re-entered the room in that moment, quietly closing the door behind him. “Your screams can be heard from the street, just so you know.”

“Good. If men hear for themselves how impertinent this child is, they won’t want to come and take her.” Glaring at him, you let out an exasperated growl.

“Instead of leaving it to luck, I’ll sleep here tonight. The more of us, the less they’ll dare.” Brilliant, just what you needed. Upset as one could get, you climbed back under the sheets, Taehyung snatching the pillow he’d share with Prince Jungkook and throwing it on the floor. “She gets the bed?” You glanced him a look that scared even a king’s son. “She gets the bed.”

Hours went by but you found it impossible to calm down, mind reliving what had happened over and over. How close you’d got to being robbed of your honour… And the one to blame not just for it, but for all your hardships, lay peacefully beside Taehyung.

The moonlight allowed you to study the scene when you sat up. Getting Taehyung’s dagger from under his pillow would result in him waking up, so that was out of the question, but Prince Jungkook’s sword, left reclined against the end of the bed…

It could be done, here and now.

You crawled on the feather-stuffed mattress until getting to the sword and gripped its hilt tightly so as not to drop it and give yourself away. Carefully, you wielded it into the air. It was a heavy blade, but you told yourself you needn’t hold it for long. Besides, the trickiest part was yet to come: slowly easing your feet into the old wooden floor. You held your breath the whole time, praying your weight wouldn’t make it creak while tiptoeing to the prince for if you were caught, sleepwalking wasn’t an excuse credible enough.

Once stood over Prince Jungkook, your pulse trembled with nerves. Far from the torture-filled revenge you'd fantasied about, but it would have to do. Holding the sword with both hands, you pointed its shaky end at his chest and took a deep breath… only for your mouth to be suddenly covered, muting your whines as you were dragged out to the hallway by Taehyung, who effortlessly stole the sword from you and threw it on the bed before closing the room’s door.

“Let me back in there, you don’t understand!” you tried to get past him in vain.

“I understand you’ve lost your wits, all right!” Taehyung was fed up, one step away from killing you. Your hysteria disrupted even his sleep. “I’m starting to think you’re the one who burned down the convent.”

“He did it,” you came up with, making Taehyung frown. It was a lie, yes, but one you could weave with some threads of truth. “He ordered French soldiers to start the fire because he hates my people. I barely escaped, but everyone I’ve ever loved was taken from me because of him. I have a chance at avenging their deaths and I must take it. Let me through, I beg.” Swallowing your pride from earlier, you fell to your knees and grasped at Taehyung’s, wetting his trousers with your tears. In a way, you’d spoken from your heart.

Taehyung wondered for a second why you didn’t tell him before, but he wasn’t exactly the sort of man who inspired people to vent their sorrows to him. He had enough with his own.

He helped you up and cupped your cheeks to make you look into his deep, brown eyes. With a gentle tone, he whispered, “Listen to me, you can’t kill a prince. Least of all in a guesthouse where we both signed our names on our way in. Do you see?”

The register had completely slipped your memory. You nodded in embarrassment.

“Good. Now let’s go back to sleep. I’ll think of a way to get rid of him when I’m sober.” Taehyung’s warm hands left your face to be run through his tired one. “One that doesn’t involve murder.”

Again, you nodded. It was unknown to you why, but his voice had soothed you enough to put an end to your crying almost immediately. Maybe that was why you hugged him without a second thought, burying your face in his chest in search of more comfort. It took Taehyung a second to react, but he did by softly caressing your head and then your back.

Afterwards, you followed him back inside. He placed Prince Jungkook’s sword at the end of the bed you’d just got in and copied you, embracing your torso from behind.

“What are y–”

“I’m not taking any more chances. Be grateful I don’t have a rope to tie you down with,” he whispered, to which you sighed. His hand found yours in the darkness, and you decided that for this once, his touch didn’t have to nauseate you.  

The next morning found you in a strange mood.

Inside you brewed regret, relief, disappointment, comfort, wrath, butterflies… and you didn’t know what to make of it. The only certain thing was your massive headache—and that the room was empty, so you got dressed and walked out in a hurry not to miss breakfast, bumping into Taehyung in the hallway.

“Oh.”

“Morning,” he greeted, looking you up and down. “I hope you’ve not scheduled any assassination attempts for today too.”

Didn’t it tire him? Not being funny?

“About that… I wanted to apologise for last night. I wasn’t in my right mind.”

To say the least. Your biggest mistake being getting caught. Now, Taehyung knew you wished Prince Jungkook dead, and there was nothing holding him back from warning him, if he hadn’t already. He hated you, so why wouldn’t he have?

“I understand it must have been upsetting to see me fraternise with the man who’s caused you so much pain.”

Surprised, you shook your head. “He’s done nothing of the sort to you, I have no right to get mad because you respond to his favour as any man would.”

“I accepted his offer,” Taehyung informed you, and something sank inside your chest. “I told him he could patiently wait in his castle ‘til I returned from Aachen so you’d be free of him but after that man last night, he wants to make sure no harm comes to us.”

“How chivalrous.” You rolled your eyes. “You should write a song about him.”

“It’s less than a week to Aachen if we don’t linger in the festivities. Then, you will never have to see him again.”

“Or you…”

He did it without thinking. One moment he was gazing into your eyes, and the next his lips were drawn to yours like those of a thirsty man to a fountain. You were stunned beyond measure, but that didn’t stop you from kissing him back, mirroring the movements of his tongue as it swirled around yours, willing to take your breath away.

Taehyung’s hands made their way to your waist to pull you as close as your colliding bodies would allow him, and you slowly melted into the ardent kiss you’d always dreamed of. A kiss that was broken along with the spell you were under way too soon, when someone cleared his throat.

Prince Jungkook, of course, standing by the staircase with raised eyebrows. “The horses are ready…”

It was three days before you got to Liège and in that time, shame kept Taehyung from interacting with you any more than was necessary.

He truly didn’t know why he’d done what he had. Sure, he’d grown… tolerant to your presence in the past month, but when had that shifted into attraction?

And as if he didn’t have enough with that mystery, the prince had caught him twice in compromising situations. The first time had been upon waking up that morning, when suddenly, Taehyung wasn’t on the floor next to him but on the bed, cuddling you. The second… the kiss.

“So that’s why she hasn’t fallen victim to my charm, because she’s fallen to yours!” he chuckled while you alleviated yourself somewhere in the woods. To him, it was hilarious. “You should’ve told me she was spoken for. I wouldn’t have flirted with her, then.”

“She isn’t, Your Highness.” That’s all he had time to say before your return.

You entered Aliénor’s house quite reluctantly.

She was a beautiful woman of Taehyung’s age whom you at once knew was more than a friend to him, or at least had been. It wasn’t that she flirted with him brazenly like the serving maid from Engoleime, neither subtly like the witch from Orléans. No, she instead behaved like a wife would, looking at and speaking to him with love. To any man, she’d feel like home.

Taehyung had told you he lay with women, but you’d never stopped to consider he’d loved any besides Princess Agnes. Fool.

“All these years and you never told me you had a daughter,” Aliénor had joked when you were introduced, not at all making things more awkward. She was just calling Taehyung old, alright, but you couldn’t laugh when your alleged father had sucked on your lip but days before.

“You, too?” he’d sighed, nowhere close the same annoyance you were used to provoking in him. “What, I sired her at the age of ten?”

Two days you were to spend there before parting for Aachen, which was a day away, and they seemed to be unending.

Taehyung wouldn’t speak to you, for reasons known only to him, yet he was most talkative to both Aliénor and Prince Jungkook, planning the performance for the king’s birthday. Not just that, he’d also asked her to treat the prevailing wounds on his knuckles from when he’d beat up the man who’d tried to assault you. When you’d offered countless of times! His behaviour was both confusing and infuriating.

At last came the final day there and dinner was, for you, a series of personal attacks.

The Aquitanian conflict was first discussed—with Prince Jungkook and Aliénor siding against your disloyal family—followed by the heart-warming story of how she and Taehyung met and wandered together for years, and finishing with the subject of marriage.

Prince Jungkook mentioned the king’s council had proposed a betrothal to you once upon a time, which was shocking enough, but even more so the fact that he’d preferred to kill you than wed you. War to love… Aliénor, for her part, had been given by her father to a man twice her age who’d recently died, much to her happiness. Now she was free to heed to love, as she’d put it while staring at Taehyung.

That did stir some thoughts.

Princess Y/N was dead to the world and would remain so until you met Yoongi, so there were no rules you had to abide by any more than a peasant. Why shouldn’t you pursue love? You had no father who opposed the man of your choosing, no responsibility to ensure your heirs had a noble pedigree. Aliénor may be free, but you were frozen in time. Chroniclers wouldn’t record your life between Bordèus and Aachen.

There was just the tiny matter of why it was Taehyung whom you suddenly felt the urge to sacrifice everything for, when you despised him. Well, not despise, but… it wasn’t that you didn’t not unlike him. At all.

That was good enough for you to knock on his door late that night.

As you entered without being given leave, a shirtless Taehyung looked you up and down from the bed, where he lay with one hand above his head. “What are you doing here?”

You shyly fiddled with your fingers, in the absence of a ring. “I’ve got used to sleeping beside you, so now I can’t sleep if you’re apart.”

It had felt strange for him too to sleep in different chambers, but he was reluctant to let you in his bed. Something told him it was a bad idea. Still, he nodded.

As usual, you snuggled up next to him, but this time the silence became suffocating within seconds, and so you blurted, “When are we going to talk about the kiss?”

Even though Taehyung had known it was coming, the question still distressed him. Eyes fixed on the ceiling, he was unable to meet yours as he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take advantage of your vulnerability, I just didn’t think before I acted.”

“I never believed that was your intent.” You frowned. Was that it? Had he been ignoring you out of shame? “I… liked it, Taehyung.”

There was not an expression on his face you could read, no reaction, even when your trembling hand reached over and softly felt his chest. Judging by his heartbeat, Taehyung was sick with anxiety, which you wondered how he managed to hide so well. To try to calm him you caressed his naked skin, finding in turn that the action did the opposite to you.

The number of times you’d been so close to him, where one was able to feel the other’s breath, yet it was only after having tasted his lips that you were overcome by lust at his proximity. At merely gracing him.

Tracing a path downwards with your fingertips, you reached the blanket that rested on his lower abdomen and uncovered him to throw a leg over it and straddle him. That did finally get him to turn his head to you, a spell binding your gazes. With his wide eyes, Taehyung was asking what the hell you were doing, but with yours, you were answering you didn’t know at all, that you were timidly letting your body decide in your stead, based on instinct.

No lessons had yet been given to you in the act of lovemaking, but you needed none when your core came to contact with Taehyung’s manhood over your clothes. Waves of pleasure washed over you the moment you started grinding on it, and he seemed to be having a similar experience given his restrained, low grunts and hardening erection. The faster you moved your hips against it, the better it felt.

Taehyung wasted no time in getting rid of your chemise, exposing your breasts to grope them like he’d been wanting to for years. Such was the hunger they aroused in him that he gently pulled from your arm so that you’d bend over and his lips could meet them, tongue circling your nipples and sucking on them hard enough to make you moan louder than you should’ve.

Bodies pressed together, he kissed you fervently to muffle your moans, amused at the thought of their sound once he was inside you. He craved for it so much that his cock was beginning to hurt, despite your nonstop humping.

He forced himself to break the kiss to quickly take his trousers off, something you helped him do. It was dark, but you saw clearly how Taehyung’s cock sprang up, and how he jerked it as he ogled your body with half-lidded eyes. Not sure what to do, you only watched, mouth watering with desire, and he chuckled lowly at that, your lack of experience making him caress your cheek. You found yourself blushing, even more so when his fingers travelled to your lips, and he inserted them in your mouth to wet them.

Soaked with your saliva, he took them to your clit and started rubbing it painfully slowly, driving you insane. A curse did escape you, however, when he took advantage of when you’d closed your eyes to bury two fingers inside you. It didn’t hurt, you were just startled at the sudden, intense pleasure. Knowing exactly what he’d done, he smirked, the bastard. But you’d take every mockery if it meant he’d not stop rubbing that sweet spot.

The feeling almost drove you to tears, especially because you were focused on not letting every pant that left your lungs become loud moans. A part of Taehyung hoped you would, as he delighted in seeing you dazed and enjoying his touch so.

He was done being patient, sat up to let you know he wanted to change positions, be on top. You lay down and readily spread your legs for him, but gripped the sheets anyway while he stroked himself again with the juices of your arousal, dreading the pain to come. Taehyung noticed and to soothe you, sank his elbows on the bed to give you a chaste kiss that lasted longer than he’d planned. Having his lips over yours just felt… right.

“You won’t want me to stop once I begin,” he whispered in your ear to then nuzzle at your neck. Taking his word for it, your hands left the sheets and went to his cheeks to guide his mouth to yours again. So wet and warm, his tongue had you melting under him, now excited to submit to the heat and feel his throbbing cock. How could he have such an effect on you?

He slid in faster than you’d anticipated and so the sensation was welcomed with a gasp, but one of startlement and pleasure rather than pain. One that drove you to wrap your legs around Taehyung’s torso as he thrust and thrust his thighs hard against the back of yours, indifferent to the fact that anyone might hear what the two of you were doing.

To be honest, it turned you on even more. That if Aliénor had any feelings for Taehyung, he was pounding the life out of you under her very roof, within earshot of her.

And that Prince Jungkook believed you dead, yet you felt more alive than ever.

“You’re so tight, fuck…” Taehyung pretty much growled into your open mouth, wet lips gliding on your bottom one with each word, before he decided to bite into it so harshly that he almost drew blood. “You’ll make me come too soon.”

“Taehyung, make me come, please…” you panted, bucking your hips against his thrusts to feel him even deeper, hands pushing his ass closer as well.

Taehyung cursed to himself, basking in how desperate you were getting. If you’d asked him to, he’d have spent all night pleasuring you in any and every way he could think of, but your command had been another. When had your wishes, he asked himself, become orders he was eager to obey?

He got hold of your wrists and pinned them over your head, met with no objections. Only because he’d stopped moving were you going to protest, but in seconds you were glad you didn’t, as a loud moan would’ve no doubt interjected your sentence. Such was the zeal Taehyung was now fucking you with. It wasn’t long until your walls began to clench around his cock, a flame running from your core through your entire body, consuming it with an intensity that brought the stars to your vision. His own release followed after a few more thrusts, the final one earning another gasp from you, since you didn’t expect his seed to spurt shooting out of him like that, and to be so warm.

The two of you stayed still for a while, just catching your breaths as though it was the only thing you had any strength for. Truthfully… it was.

Your eyes had been closed ever since reaching your high and it seemed so had Taehyung’s, since they opened mere seconds after yours did, like he’d been woken up from the same dream. It was right then that he realised he was still holding your wrists in place, so he let go of your them and removed himself from on top of you altogether to collapse on the other side of the bed.

Having lain with a man out of wedlock should drown you in shame, but somehow you could only smile, no space for concerns in the cloud of bliss you were surrounded by.

Propping yourself up on your elbow, you went to caress Taehyung’s chest again. You didn’t mind it was coated with a layer of sweat, just wanted to continue to feel close to him. But when you leaned forward to kiss him, he turned his head away. Actually, he seemed rather bothered.

“Did I not do it right?” You hated yourself for allowing your voice to break, even if it was what made Taehyung look at you.

“You were perfect,” he said, taking hold of your hand on his chest to kiss it. But before you could ask what was wrong then, he beat you to it, “I’m going to take some air.”

And just like that, he left you there, wondering what on earth you’d done to upset him.

He’d not come back by the time you woke up in the morning, just as you feared he wouldn’t.

Sitting up, you rubbed your face to rid it off sleep, but also out of stress. This sort of drama was the very last thing you needed and your heart was doing little to avoid being affected by it, by Taehyung’s actions. It was so pathetic you were becoming ashamed of yourself, but you did need to know what had gone wrong—if possible, before the end of your journey. So downstairs you rushed, set on resolving this right now.

It was in the kitchen where you found Taehyung, having breakfast with Aliénor. Prince Jungkook wasn’t there, probably still asleep as it was early. You didn’t care. What you cared about was that Taehyung had barely noticed you come in. Last night you’d been under the impression that nothing else but you existed to him, but today, the food on his plate was apparently more interesting.

To be fair, it had always been like that… but then why had he kissed you? Was it just that he’d spent too long without a woman’s warmth? That, now his lust was sated, he need not even look your way?

“Taehyung, may we speak? Alone.” Your tone made it clear it wasn’t a question. Aliénor was about to protest, as it was her kitchen you were kicking her out of, but Taehyung gave her a reassuring nod after which she obediently went upstairs. You remained stood, the silence in the room keeping you in place, yet he still couldn’t deign to look up. “We didn’t really talk last night. About that.”

“No, we didn’t.”

You sighed heavily. He wasn’t going to make it easy, was he? “Will you just tell me what your problem with me is?” He finally met your gaze only to frown. Unbelievable. “You’ve been an ass to me ever since the first time we talked and out of nowhere, you kiss me. Then you ignore me, then you lie with me, then you ignore me again. What am I to make of it?”

Taehyung obviously didn’t want to have this conversation, or be in such mess. He only said, “You’re the one who came to me last night.”

Crossing your arms with a scoff, you accused with overflowing sarcasm, “So that was your plan? To lure me into being the seducer so that it would be my doing? Bit twisted.”

“Just forget about it, child,” Taehyung sighed as he stood up, walking past to leave, but you grabbed his hand in time to stop him. Once more, he avoided your eyes, given how close you’d got—his senses still burned from the taste and feel of you.

“Tell me what’s wrong, please...”

Heart on your sleeve, or rather, on your frail voice, Taehyung felt compelled to answer, “What’s wrong is you were supposed to be under my protection. I was supposed to keep you safe, and yet I’ve made a whore out of you.” Your hand left his. “I will deliver you to your family tarnished, dishonoured.”

Anger began to replace your shock. “A whore? You think I’d give myself to a man I don’t… hold dear?”

“Didn’t you just say I’ve always been an ass to you?”

“You have and still are, but… I’ve come to the realisation that I don’t hate you all the time.” Taehyung laughed, and who could blame him? To tell him you didn’t hate him wasn’t enough. You took a deep breath. “I do feel safe with you, I did last night. But I don’t want you to keep your temper in check every time we talk, I want us to be at peace, for there to be no more quarrels.” You looked down. “For you to treat me like you treat Aliénor.”

“None of this matters, Y/N,” Taehyung said after a moment of processing. “We’ll part once we get to Aachen.”

“We don’t have to.”

“What, you want us to wed?”

“I’d not be allowed, but we might find a way to still be together, I might.” If Princess Agnes had kept him in her court, so could you. The question was whether he’d be willing to suffer a secret love affair again… Not to mention you were taking for granted that he loved you. If he didn’t, all of this was meaningless.

For the time being, he was staring at you as though you were mad. “You live in a world of fantasy.”

How could he be so hypocritical? After meaning to elope with a princess while being a jongleur! The words escaped your mouth before you thought them through, “I should be the one saying that.”

Taehyung cocked his head to a side. “Why?”

To your relief, the door opened right then, and you were almost glad Aliénor had come back so soon, before you were forced to make up some excuse. Except she wasn’t alone.

“Here she is, Your Highness–”

Prince Jungkook’s gaze fixed on you from the second he walked in, something different in it you couldn’t put your finger on. “Thank you, Aliénor, you may wait outside. And don’t be alarmed by the guards, they will not harm you.”

“Guards?” Taehyung stepped forward, you backwards in dismay when he walked in.

No…

Sir Seokjin.

“Seize her.”

“What?” Taehyung stood as a shield in front of you to protect you from an approaching Sir Seokjin, who in response drew his sword and pointed it at his throat.

Aliénor, still there, gasped. “Please, Your Highness, don’t!”

“Step aside, my friend,” the prince ordered. “You don’t want to protect an enemy of the French Crown.”

Taehyung wouldn’t move. “What are you talking about?” He turned his head around, but you couldn’t speak, the witch’s prophecy on a loop in your mind. Sir Seokjin was the betrayal lurking in the shadows? The same Sir Seokjin whom you’d known all your life? Who’d been sworn to your father, the king?

“Yes, I had assumed she’s been keeping from you that she’s Lady Y/N of Aquitaine,” Prince Jungkook said with a smug smile, taking pleasure in the shock on Taehyung’s face. The latter was going to say that it was impossible, but being noble-born would explain much of your behaviour. If only you’d deny it… but you kept quiet, eyes bright with tears. Now, you were the cowardly one who couldn’t face him. “See, I thought I’d killed her along with her treacherous family, but I met Sir Seokjin in town this morning and he told me I didn’t because I was travelling with her.”

“The king ordered me to fetch the prince back to court,” Sir Seokjin told Taehyung, his sword still raised at him. “I found him in Reims and have been following the lot of you since, waiting for him to be alone so I could tell him Lady Y/N was still alive, that he must’ve killed a fake.”

Seeing as he had no other choice, Taehyung stepped aside for Sir Seokjin to coldly hold you by your upper arm, like you were some criminal. Whatever he’d been promised in exchange for deceiving your brothers better be worth it. Prince Jungkook walked up to you but your eyes diverted to Aliénor, who’d gingerly hurried to Taehyung’s side to lock hands with him. On all fronts were you betrayed, it seemed.

“What was your plan, huh? To ask your cousin Lord Yoongi to take back Aquitaine?” The fact that he kept referring to your family with noble and not royal titles made your blood boil. Taehyung, for his part, felt a lump in his throat at the mention of Yoongi’s name, the man who married his first love. “As naïve as your father.”

He laughed when the tears finally streamed down your face. There was just nothing you could do. You’d lost.

“Let’s go, we leave for Paris at once,” Prince Jungkook said to Sir Seokjin, who nodded and pushed you towards the door. You had some seconds before he reached you to push you again, out of the kitchen, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take one last look of Taehyung’s face, daring not to see what expression painted it.

Instead, you just whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“This is more than you deserve,” Prince Jungkook said as he manhandled you into a bedchamber. “I’d have gone for a cell, but father said my future wife mustn’t be humiliated. At least, not in public.”

You had just got to Paris, an exact week after leaving Liège. An exact month after last seeing your family alive.

News had already spread through the kingdom like wildfire not only of your capture, but of your forced betrothal to Prince Jungkook. The king believed that marrying you into French royalty would put an end to the unrest in Aquitaine, prevent any uprisings. He’d allow for the reverted duchy to be yours but as your husband, the prince would own everything you did. In other words, all was for the sake of appearances.

“You’re abominable, sick to the soul. I’ll jump off this tower before I’m made your wife!”

A smirk tugged at Prince Jungkook’s lips. He walked closer, but you stood your ground. “Nothing would please me more, trust me, but I’ll have your lover strangled if you do.” Your heart missed a beat. “Oh, yes, I know. I heard.” He held your chin while staring at your lips. “Pity, had you not known whom I was, I bet it wouldn’t have taken long until you willingly spread your legs to me as well.”

The slap you gave him with all your strength erased the smirk off his mouth.

“Be grateful we won’t be married until we ascertain you’re not carrying a peasant’s bastard,” he said in a deep voice, glaring at you. “Hell begins for you the moment you can breed me heirs.”

“And what will our children think of their father when they find out he murdered their mother’s family? That he keeps her a prisoner with a wedding ring instead of chains? You think they’ll be proud?”

No remorse haunted Prince Jungkook. “They’ll learn from it not to show mercy to their enemies.”

Around a week earlier, Taehyung had arrived in Aachen.

He’d decided to finish the trip anyway to sing at the last of the spring festivals in the Holy Roman Empire’s capital, where he had pledged never to step in again many years ago. He would’ve honoured that pledge had it not been because he didn’t want anything to happen to you on the way there. Fat lot of good he’d been at preventing that.

First with the witches, then with that man in Reims, and at last with the prince. On his defence, it wasn’t as though a jongleur could’ve done anything to stop him from taking you. Besides, the house was surrounded by soldiers, he wasn’t even sure he’d get into that much trouble for anyone. Least of all, you.

You, who’d been lying to him all this time. You, who talked of love yet kept such a secret from him.

But at the same time… you wanted to find a way to be together even when you went back to being a princess. You were willing to risk your reputation for him, and he’d paid back that sacrifice by letting you be captured, be pulled apart from him.

‘I should be the one saying that,’ your words resounded in Taehyung’s head. So you knew. Franceza must have told you—who else? And despite it you wanted to make things work with him, just as he had tried back then with Princess Agnes.

Both of you felt something for the other that went beyond attraction and although neither knew exactly what, you’d been the one brave enough to want to find out. Taehyung had done the opposite, shielding his heart from that which once broke it. What if he’d done wrong?

After performing at one of Aachen’s squares, he collected the money of his audience as he always would before employing your assistance. This time, however, he was given a handful of gold coins from a certain someone he hadn’t spotted from the stage.

“Prince Yoongi,” he blurted out, eyes wide. He had hoped never to encounter him again.

They’d met before, when your cousin was courting Princess Agnes years back. Rumours of Taehyung’s involvement with her were whispered at court and had reached his ears, but he never paid heed to them, instead becoming an admirer of the jongleur’s work. He actually wished he hadn’t left right before his wedding, and had become a troubadour as his dream was known to be.

“It’s been a while!” Prince Yoongi embraced his stiff body with a grin. “You’re still singing about knights killing magical creatures, though? I’d add to the repertoire if I were you."

When he pulled back, Taehyung forced a faint smile, all his bafflement would allow him. He lied, “I’ll consider it, Your Highness.”

Prince Yoongi nodded, then led him away from the crowd, looking about to make sure he wasn’t being listened to. “I’ve heard the maddest rumour regarding you and my cousin.” For a second, Taehyung feared it was that he’d slept with you. “They say you were escorting her to me when she was captured by the French prince. She’s to marry him, now.”

It didn’t shock Taehyung when he’d first heard days before, but the news had still riled him up. “It’s true, only she kept her identity a secret, even from me.”

“Clever,” Prince Yoongi mused. “They say, too, that you’re to sing a song at the French king’s birthday feast.”

“I’m not so sure I’ll go…”

The prince put his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I must beg that you do, for it is how I plan to rescue Y/N. And while I’m at it, take France.”

The two weeks you’d been in Paris, you’d spent locked in your bedchamber, accompanied by the ladies-in-waiting the king had chosen for you. It was his birthday today, not that you cared you weren’t allowed to attend the feast in his honour.

To no avail, your time had been wasted by trying to come up with a way to escape the castle. Even if you did, soldiers would find you now that it was common knowledge that you were alive.

You sighed, looking out the window you were sat next to. The landscape wasn’t near as beautiful as the one back home, but it was better than the inside of that bedchamber, infested with spies who kept attempting to make conversation despite knowing you refused to utter a word to them. A month of putting up with Taehyung’s complaints over your slow pace had taught you to tune out unwanted noises, so thanks to that, the moment wasn’t ruined when you discerned an approaching army in the distance waving the Holy Roman Empire’s banners. You bit your lip to suppress a smile.

Although, it wasn’t long until your ladies became aware of the imminent battle. The sound of screaming, fighting, and dying down in the city and then inside the castle could not be tuned out by anyone, even you. Appalling memories of the day Bordèus was taken intruded into your thoughts but you casted them away, telling yourself that this time, your side would win.

Hours later, shouts of victory were heard, but from whom?! You wanted to look out the window, but your ladies physically forbade you from nearing it in case arrows found their way through its glass. Fair, though inconvenient. Pacing around the bedchamber they would allow, so you did that to try to calm your nerves, but it didn’t work. Too much was at stake.

Footsteps were then heard outside, and the first person that came to mind was the servant who’d swapped places with you. The second, the one who’d killed her. But when the door was kicked open, it was another who emerged drenched in blood.

Yoongi.

“Two months you haven’t written to me for, cousin!” he joked, doing a terrible job at acting outraged. “I’ve come to personally scold you.”

With a chuckle of relief, you ran to his arms.

“We’ve won?”

“We’ve won.”

On the way downstairs, he explained how he’d managed it.

Taehyung’s performance at the feast had been the perfect distraction, an event half of the kingdom’s nobility had attended—and all the castle guards. Even they wanted to hear the most famous jongleur in the land sing, the irresponsible idiots. Yoongi had expected at least a bit of resistance before his surprise attack, but the fortress that was French court had been taken with ease due to the neglect of their posts.

He also told you what the aftermath of this would be. Yoongi meant to crown himself king of Aquitaine and Princess Agnes, his queen. He was the last surviving male heir of your house, so you were fine with that, as it was never your intention to become a monarch yourself. You’d enjoy the title of princess again, the one your father had bestowed on you.

As for the domain of France, Yoongi would give it to his father-in-law, who had always kept an eye on it, on the condition that he respect Aquitaine’s independence. The king had been killed alongside the traitor Sir Seokjin but more importantly, Prince Jungkook captured alive. Two soldiers were holding him down on his knees when Yoongi led you into the throne room.

“He must die,” he told you on the way to him, loud enough to make the words reach his ears, “I thought you’d want to be the one to do the job, after all he’s done to you.”

The nobles were nowhere to be seen, had fled before the fight began, but you wish they hadn’t so they could witness how you looked down at their overthrown, seized prince with disdain. The purple of bruises mixed with the red of blood on his face, as though a painter had spilled his paint all over him. To see him glaring at you like that, sulking over his defeat, gave you immense satisfaction. So much so, that tears of joy threatened to fill your eyes.

Yoongi was about to hand you his sword, but you shook your head.

“I won’t kill him today.” You leaned down close to Prince Jungkook, so that he had nowhere else to look at but your eyes. “I’ll make sure you pay for the murder of my family. You’ll come to regret it dearly, I promise you that.” Humiliation and shame kept him from responding as they had kept you the day you’d been found out. “We’re taking him home with us, lock him in a cell for now.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” both soldiers said in unison, then dragged Prince Jungkook out of the throne room. Your gaze followed him until someone else caught it.

Taehyung.

You’d assumed he’d left already not to meet you but there he stood by the entrance, mirroring your speechlessness. He’d never seen you in fancy clothes and gold jewellery, dressed as a princess. He thought you looked beautiful.

Yoongi right away realised his presence was needed anywhere else but in that room. “I’ll leave you two alone, shall I?”

Taehyung didn’t approach you until the big doors closed behind him. He looked the same as always, but so much was different now…

“You came for me.”

“A coincidence,” Taehyung swore. “I had the performance scheduled already, remember, Your Highness?”

You were tempted to roll your eyes, but smiled instead. “Don’t call me that... I’m Y/N to you.”

“Y/N,” he repeated faintly with a nod. An awkward silence then fell upon the room, neither knowing how to break it. After what seemed an eternity but was likely two seconds, you supposed you ought to.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I didn’t think I could trust anybody with the truth, I was scared.”

“I understand,” Taehyung said, then huffed out a laugh. “I reckon you wanted to tell me in more than one occasion to receive treatment worthy of a king’s daughter.”

“In a way, I appreciated your honesty.” You pouted before glancing down a couple of times. “Taehyung, does this mean you’ll come to Aquitaine with us? To be with me?”

“Us. You, Prince Yoongi, and Princess Agnes…” The way he pronounced her name told you he still grieved her love, like the knight from the made-up ending of the story he’d sung that first night in Engoleime. He’d been talking about himself. “I cannot, Y/N.”

You’d figured he’d say that, but you weren’t going to give up so easily. “As a woman, my virtue is the most valuable thing I have. I gave it to you knowing I’d be shamed for it because I am highborn and you are not, because we’re not married or even would be allowed to be, because it is a sin to give in to lust, because my future husband couldn’t trust the heirs I’d give him would be truly his… I did it because I love you. I know now.”

“You just listed all the reasons why it cannot be between us.” Taehyung smiled wistfully. “I lied to you once. I do long to settle down with a woman I love, but I don’t want to do it in shame.”

The realisation that he’d already made up his mind struck you. It didn’t matter that you loved him and were willing to risk it all for it, he wanted something you could never give him.

Even though Taehyung couldn’t replace your family, he’d managed to fill the void they’d left behind. It wasn’t something you’d expected might happen, but fate worked in strange ways, especially when it made you fall in love with him. Now that you’d achieved victory by avenging your loved ones’ deaths, you just hadn’t stopped to consider it might turn on you and empty that void again. It was cruel.

“I’m sure Aliénor will make an excellent wife to settle down with,” you muttered rather pathetically.

“Aliénor?” Taehyung frowned. She’d made her feelings for him obvious to everyone, yes, but why were you under the impression he reciprocated them? "She’s not the one I love.”

You nodded with your head down, holding back tears. Taehyung could tell you didn’t believe him, so he cupped your cheeks and kissed you as softly as he knew how, intending for his love to linger on your lips afterwards. Maybe that way you’d believe him. Although you couldn’t think at all at present, lost in the feel of him. Taehyung must deal with magic to be able to banish sadness from your pounding heart so.

“At least, promise me I’ll see you again,” you begged in a whisper when he reluctantly pulled back.

“I promise, Y/N.”

“If you come to Aquitaine, you’ll always have a bed in my castle… But just one, in just one chamber. Mine.”

⇢ drabble: nightmares