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hongism · 4 years ago

Text

04 - s.mingi + degradation (18+)

» s.mingi x gn!reader » 18+ dni if minor » language, explicit smut, cock caging, degradation, praise, ruined orgasms, overstimulation, manual stimulation, anal fingering, use of sex toys/dildos, use of a riding crop, oral sex: m receiving (but not really), some impact play/cock slapping, use of gendered slurs (directed at mingi), dacryphilia, subspace, dominant reader, submissive mingi » wc 2.7k » link to masterlist

today you have mingi on his knees, skin pressing into the pale carpet in a way that looks more comfortable than it really is. it’s deceptively innocent, even without an ounce of clothing on his body and feet tucked under his ass like he’s trying to seem smaller than he actually is. it won’t work in his favor; such behavior never does when he’s already gone this far.

instead, it earns him a light smack over the top of his thigh with the riding crop in your hand, and the impact draws a whimper from his full lips seconds later. a slight bit of saliva trickles out the corner of his mouth, enough to catch on his chin and stop there before falling further. the visual is intoxicating in a lot of ways, things you don’t like to admit outside the bedroom out of fear of ruining the pretty, picture-perfect innocence you seem to bear there. some part of your brain does wonder what those people would think seeing you dominate mingi in this way when they always assume him to hold that position in your relationship.

on his knees, drooling and whimpering with a solid metal cage around his big useless cock, and you over him with a smile on your lips.

it’s intoxicating.

“you enjoy this, don’t you?” you inquire. the edge to your tone feigns true curiosity but your gaze says otherwise, something borderline sadistic to the way you look down at the man on his knees. “must be so hard having such a nice big cock only to have it locked up right now.”

the riding crop pushes under his chin. you raise his head to look more clearly at his face slowly, admiring the glisten on his brow and in his eyes. something twists in your brain.

you want to see him cry.

“i asked you a question, baby boy.”

mingi’s thighs twitch at that nickname, a blatant cue to how much he enjoys it, and his watery gaze flits up to look you in the eye.

“there’s my pretty baby, looking all good and needy for me,” you coo. there’s a faux innocence in your words, lacing some easy praise in to heighten the blow you’re about to deliver. “what a pathetic slut.”

if he could crumple to the floor, you don’t doubt that he would do so now, but he has enough sense to stay put despite how the words send a shudder through his spine. he tucks his hands further under his legs, pressing between where his calves and thighs squeeze together and make his skin splay like the perfect canvas for you to paint on. the red streaks across his pale skin, the sheen of sweat over them, and the way his muscles tremble from the effort of keeping still — he’s a masterpiece, one of your own creation, and you don’t plan on letting anyone else see him.

for now, though, you wish for those crystalline tears to fall, you want to see spit smeared over his neck and chest, and you want to hear him gag prettily for you.

“what do you want, baby?” you take a moment to squat down to his height, head tilting to the side as you look him in the eye. “want me to touch you?”

mingi offers his first weak nod of the night as his cheeks flush a pretty red and he ducks his chin to the side.

“good boy.” perhaps it’s a bit too cruel, the way you lower the riding crop further and slip the tip between the small gap in his cock cage. the leather digs into his dick, teasing his slit enough to make mingi writhe under your touch. he’s still good though — still stays put and doesn’t try bringing his hands out from where they’re losing feeling between his legs. it’s going to result in his first ruined orgasm, and you count the seconds in your head before he cries out and a weak trail of cum spills through the slit of metal encasing. “must be hard having to cum like that, baby. can’t even put your big dick to good use, huh?”

“n-no,” mingi whimpers as you pull the riding crop back and hold it to his face.

“clean it for me.”

his tongue slips out like he’s putting it on display. you give him a sweet smile that’s deceptively innocent again. the first slap of the leather on his tongue is a shock to him. it’s almost enough for him to lose his position and grab for his crotch, and you’re nearly tempted to take the cage off for him so he can cum properly. he has to earn that right though. you only give him two more sharp hits to the tongue before turning away and stepping over to the edge of the bed. mingi pants behind you, almost dog-like in how hard he’s breathing.

“need a break, princess? what’s your color?”

“green…. ‘m okay, ‘m okay, p-promise,” mingi huffs out in response, lifting his gaze to you as you look back at him over your shoulder.

“my pretty baby, you’re so good for me,” you singsong back through a tight-lipped grin. “made to be my perfect little toy… made for me, yeah?”

“y-yes.”

you exhale a breathy laugh despite his affirmation not being funny in the slightest.

“you aren’t being so chatty tonight, love, are you sure you want me that badly?”

“i do!” mingi almost stumbles over his words in the rush he makes to affirm them, and another laugh slips free, one that comes from your chest with more force. “i do, please, i want you.”

“please?” you echo, arching a brow at the collection of toys before you. you settle on one in particular and pick it up with delicate fingers and a smirk.

“please, please, i’ll beg, i’ve been good. i’m still in position! i’m being so good for you, y/n, i really am, right?”

“you are…” you turn back towards mingi, letting a genuine smile of adoration come over your lips. “you’re being my perfect little princess, baby. the perfect toy for me. you’re always so good, aren’t you?”

mingi nods like a man possessed, motions erratic in his rush to affirm your words. you press the head of the dildo in your hand further into your palm.

“do you wish this were you?” the stroke you give to the shaft is long and obnoxious, emphasizing the twist of your wrist and how you squeeze the base lightly. mingi goes dumb for a moment; his gaze flits over the silicone then up to your face then back down to your hand that repeats the rhythmic motions. “can’t even use your stupid cock to please me right now, but that’s okay, right? you can get off if i fuck myself with this in front of you, no?”

the whimper that leaves mingi is borderline pathetic.

“don’t worry, my love. i won’t do that to you. you’ve been so good for me tonight… there’s no need for punishment, okay?”

“promise?” he asks, lashes growing wetter by the second. your gut twists and turns, the desire to see those tears fall over the balls of his cheeks rising up only for you to squash it a second later.

“promise, baby boy.” you step closer to him again, and rather than kneeling down to his height, you merely stop before him and lower the flesh-toned dildo to his lips. “won’t you be a good cockslut and suck for me?”

it’s a lewd mimicry of an actual blowjob — the visual of him taking the dildo that’s settled in your palm right beside your hip almost makes it look real. his lips stretch around the girth, the size of it almost akin to how his own erection would look if not for the metal keeping him locked up right now. there’s a certain haziness to the way mingi blinks up at you, the motions slower than normal like he’s thinking too hard about it or approaching a different mindset that will leave him needy and clingy for hours to come. not that you mind — taking care of him afterward is almost as good as taking care of him during, and you’d rather die than be a bad dom for him.

you push the dildo to the back of his mouth, hitting his throat in one easy thrust, and the tears overflow. they stream over his skin with ease, and you see his shoulders begin to cave in a bit with each passing second. his hips jut in little staggered motions that betray his intentions, but you simply let him strive for a friction that will never really come. not the way he wants at least.

he’s drooling around the cock between his lips and wetting it more and more with each thrust. you can't resist the urge to take your free hand to his chin, catching a dribble of saliva and smearing down towards his chest. you cross the planes of his flat chest with a wet path in your wake before reaching one of his budded nipples. just brushing over it with the slightest amount of pressure has him groaning out a low moan. like music to your ears, he repeats the sound when you tweak his nipple a little harder.

“you can cum, baby boy. think your pathetic cock can squirt for me?” you pull the dildo from his mouth to let him speak, obviously waiting for an answer with the way you dangle the fake cock just out of his reach. his voice comes out gravelly and low when he manages to squeak out a response.

“good whores can.”

“is that what you are, my love?”

“please,” he whispers, an edge of desperation to his tone, and you can’t deny him what he wants.

“yes, my baby, you’re a good whore for me. all mine.” you nudge the dildo back to his waiting mouth, putting more pressure into your push this time around. mingi takes it almost greedily like it can’t get in his throat fast enough, and he all but leans into it seconds later. you squat down to his level, at last, keeping one arm up to thrust the silicone between his plump lips that have long since swollen up from the overuse. you don’t have your key on hand — it’s over on the bed along with your other supplies — but you won’t be needing it quite yet, reaching down to grip the little bit of his shaft that isn’t trapped within the metal cage.

mingi gags around the dildo once more, but this time you aren’t nearly as deep in his throat, so you withdraw the toy to let him choke out a few words.

“c-can you finger me? please?”

your mind goes blank for half a second, hand reaching up to sweep away some of the leftover tears on his cheeks before you recover and remember your place in the scene.

“mm, keep sucking.” you push the dildo down to the floor then go to pull mingi’s hands out from under his thighs. the freedom has him flexing his probably numb fingers as best he can, but he doesn’t waste any time in sitting up on his knees and bending in half to reach the fake cock once more. you get to your feet, eyes taking in the pretty expanse of his back and ass, the red marks on his hamstrings that indicate how much pressure he was putting on his hands. even as you retrieve the lube from the bed, mingi doesn’t budge and continues to follow your gentle orders without complaint.

you announce your arrival behind him with a sharp backhand slap to one side of his ass, delighting in the way he jolts and clenches around nothing. his noises are muffled by the dildo, but still music to your ears as always. his cock dangles uselessly between his legs, and the metal encasing jingles with his sporadic movements.

your first finger is cold when it slips into the heat of mingi’s ass, no effort put into trying to warm up the lube when you know how much mingi enjoys that first chill a little more every time. your fingers aren’t nearly as long as mingi’s so the effort that goes into searching for his sweet spot is far greater than it would be the other way around. he seems to content to wait, dick still dribbling strings of translucent cum like he never stopped cumming in the first place. you know by now he’s surely bordering the brink of overstimulation, the limit where it starts to become too much, but he keeps whining each time you threaten to pull your fingers out of him.

“one more, baby boy, then we’ll be done for the night and get you cleaned up,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him at this point because of how far gone he is. it’s endearing in a way, at least in your eyes it is, and it turns intoxicating once more with the first brush of your fingers over his prostate.

“hngh, o-oh… y/n, ah, i’ll cum early!” his mouth pops off the dildo to spew the words, and spit pools on the wood floor with his motions.

“the sooner you finish, the sooner we can get you in the bath, love.” you dig your fingers as deep as they can go, crooking them midway to repeat the same brush over his sweet spot. it garners you the reaction you were after — mingi cries out louder than he has so far in this session, legs going weak as he threatens to topple over. you grab for his hip with your free hand and try your best to steady his big body before he fully falls. all his cock can do at this point is give a few more weak spurts of the same translucent cum that pools on the floor between his legs. “good job, baby, look at you. you did so well for me.”

“y/n, i-i, fuck, i—”

“shh, baby, you’re okay, i’ve got you, okay?” you turn him to the side as gently as you can, trying to avoid any of the bodily fluids that are now spread over the wood, and help him lay flat against the floor on his back. you won’t make him stay there long, only enough for him to catch his breath and get some feeling back in his legs. you’ll get the key to his cage later too; you can’t risk leaving him right as he’s coming down from an orgasm even if it’s just a few feet away. so you drag yourself up his lanky body and settle over his waist with hands planted on his shoulders and a smile on your lips. “you with me still?”

“y-yeah,” he pants, eyes squeezed shut so tightly that there are wrinkles around his temples. you shift your hands up to brush over those spots, and the man under you relaxes into the touch.

it’s a slow process, bringing him down from the intensity of the orgasm and overstimulation, but it’s comfortable as well if you ignore the sweat sticking to your bodies.

“mm, okay, ‘m back, i’m back. fuckin’ drowsy as hell,” he murmurs some time later. the way his words slur is indication enough of his exhaustion, but you aren’t about to let him pass out on the floor like this.

“okay, big boy, up we go then. let’s take a bath and let me get everything cleaned up then you can pass out.” you move to climb off mingi and get to work, but he catches hold of your waist and tugs you back down to his face momentarily.

“love you, baby.”

you smile into his lips, pressing a chaste kiss there.

“i love you too.”

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whythinktoomuch · 5 years ago

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recovered in time

(pt. i)

“From what I can tell, the implant seems to be interrupting the connection between your visual cortex and your emotional center,” Brainy says, eyes narrowed in concentration, two fingers pressed against the incision point at the base of Kara’s neck. “As well as inhibiting your frontal lobe and sending distress signals to the amygdala.”

“What does that mean?” Kara asks.

“It means that... you weren’t feeling like yourself,” Alex says, and Kara nods hesitantly at that.

“So, can you rid of it or not?” Alex asks, fixing Brainy with her most hardened stare.

“I’ve already determined five different ways to extract the device—”

“Great! So, we can—”

“—but none that wouldn’t immediately prove fatal or result in permanent brain damage.”

Eventually, Alex releases a long-suffering, shuddery sigh. “... You could have fucking led with that.”

“I did feel like myself though...” Kara interjects, suspending what was surely about to result in another very unproductive argument. “And I still feel like myself now. It’s just...” She ducks her head, fiddling with the sleeves of her shirt, already frayed from anxious attention. “... I felt so alone? Like, I’d been abandoned, or was suddenly in a world where I’d lost everyone all at once. Again.”

Kara shifts uncomfortably in her seat, now able to feel everyone’s eyes on her, burning holes into her skin. She has long since traded in her super-suit for comfy clothes, and her scarf has been upgraded to a pair of heat vision resistant blackout goggles, but it would take more than 24 measly hours for her to adjust to, well... everything.

“You’re not alone though,” Alex says, giving Kara’s knee a firm squeeze as if in reminder. “You know that, right?”

Kara rubs at her nose, sniffling herself back into some semblance of composure. “Yeah, I know.”

But of course, knowing something hardly ever outstrips the feeling of it, and Kara kinda just wishes that she still had Lena’s scarf on her.

“Hey Lena,” Kara calls out softly from the bed. She doesn’t lift her head from her pillow, but still offers a small wave in greeting.

“What gave me away?” Lena asks, and it’s almost playful, which makes everything that much easier.

“Well... Pretty much everything, actually.”

“Ah.”

Then the smell hits her, overwhelming her senses in an unexpected rush of heat and spice. Kara sits up right away, startled. “How did you...” is all she manages to get out, then pushed into her hands is a considerably sized takeout box of potstickers.

“I wanted to surprise you, so I might have created a hermetically sealed lunchbox just to sneak these in,” Lena says, and Kara’s already laughing softly. “The food’s still good though! I literally just slipped them inside right before walking into the building, so...”

“... Thank you,” Kara says. She inclines her head to the spot next to her, and feels the bed sink with Lena’s weight accordingly.

Kara starts eating, but does so with only one hand. The other just fidgets at her thigh, tugging at her sweatpants, lying in wait so impatiently. Then Lena takes the hand and holds it firmly in her own, and finally, it feels like Kara can breathe freely again.

“I never thanked you,” Kara says, “for, you know... everything.”

“You already did,” Lena reminds her, squeezing Kara’s hand.

“I... did?” Kara feels Lena nodding beside her. “Okay... so then, why does it feel like I still have so much left to owe you?”

Lena tries to hold her breath quietly, but Kara hears it; of course, she hears it. “I can’t answer that for you.”

A couple of hours later, when Alex pops into the room for her usual check-in, she stumbles upon an unexpected sight: Lena sitting up on the hospital bed, her legs tucked beneath the sheets as she answers emails on her phone, and Kara fast asleep, curled up around her.

Kara’s still holding Lena’s hand, her face buried in Lena’s shirt where it smells most like her, apparently, besides her hair.

Lena blushes a little, but can’t find it in her to regret her position.

“Alex says it’s because I didn’t see your face,” is the first thing Kara says the next time Lena visits. “I pretty much saw everyone else’s, but... never yours. So, I’ve imprinted on you, or something.”

Lena recovers quickly, “Well... what do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Kara admits, running her fingers down the back of her neck, feeling the tender skin still raised in jagged lines. “There’s still so much I feel like I can’t trust right now.”

“But you trust me...”

“Yeah.”

Lena carefully cradles Kara’s hand in both of hers, and it feels like a thank you of sorts. Then Kara draws their joined hands closer and closer, pressing her lips gently to Lena’s knuckles, and sighs in a way that could only ever be an expression of deep gratitude.

Kara’s days all seem to unfold the same way, with Alex and Brainy running tests, Lena stopping by once per day for company, and Kara just trying to break up the monotony of it all with podcasts, books on tape, and tossing a tiny bouncy ball around the room to test her reflexes.

For that last one, she has to stop the moment she hears Alex approaching her room, of course, because of all the broken glass and knocked over plants, and such.

Until one day, she overhears a couple of DEO agents discussing some urgent mission—not exactly a rare occurrence, given her super-hearing, but she perks up, ears honing in at the mention of Lex Luthor.

But when they also mention how Lena might be in danger, Kara is already out of bed and flying out the window.

Kara hasn’t flown since donning her blackout goggles, but she remembers enough to travel at a height that would be safe from any threat of collision. And before long, she’s hurtling straight for the source of all the distant commotion now pounding in her ears.

She practically crashes in landing, the earth cracking beneath her bare feet. She whips her head toward where Lena’s heartbeat is fluttering the loudest, then hears low chuckles coming from the same direction.

“You’re all so pathetic and predictable,” Lex crows. “At least try to make it somewhat of a challenge for me. God, it’s all just too easy.”

“Kara, get out of here!” Lena’s voice shouts out to her, muffled and desperate. “It’s a trap!”

But Kara takes a step toward them anyway, and immediately, the entire world seems to scream in protest.

Kara falls to her knees, hands clapping over her ears but to no avail. The excruciating sound is coming from her own head, akin to hot spikes scraping at the inside of her skull. She calls out to Lena, but can’t even make out her own voice over the pain.

She crumples over, helpless, her teeth gritted as she pushes her face into the dirt and shakes uncontrollably. She knows she has to get up; she’s a sitting duck like this. She can’t save Lena like this.

And so, Kara does the one thing that she can do.

She rips the goggles off her face, hurling them somewhere behind her, and jerks her head up.

She sees a blur of colors, then a single hand outstretched towards her, clutching onto something silver and vaguely rectangular.

She fires a burst of heat vision right at that hand, and feels the back of her head explode.

“Man... she couldn’t just put them down gently?” mutters a voice that’s not unfamiliar. “She just had to throw the goggles like a goddamn shot-putter or something? These things cost a fortune!”

“All right, that’s enough, Demos,” says Alex, a much more familiar voice. “I’ll worry about the budget, okay? You just get everyone else back to headquarters.”

“’M’sorry,” Kara says, or at least she tries to say. “My bad...” Her eyes still shut tight, she flashes a thumbs up, then lets her arm flop back down to the ground. Alex stops her when she attempts to sit up.

“Hey, not so fast, you jerk,” Alex says, somehow keeping Kara grounded with a single hand pressed against her shoulder. “We’re getting a stretcher for you.”

“I don’t think I need a stretcher.”

“Yeah, well... nobody asked you,” Alex sighs, before grumbling, “God, what’s taking them so long? Ugh, hang on... Hey, can you watch her? I’ll be right back.”

Lena’s there now, and Kara can actually feel herself grinning without even meaning to. “No, don’t... You shouldn’t have come, Kara.” But there’s a smile in Lena’s voice, and Kara’s grin grows wider for it. “I’m serious!”

“Okay, me too.” Kara then winces as a sharp pain gradually surfaces, trickling into reality. “The back of my head is killing me...”

“Yeah, you’re bleeding.”

Kara scoffs. “I don’t bleed; I’m Supergirl.”

“Okay, Supergirl... but somebody got blood all over my shirt, and it sure as hell isn’t me, so...”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then check for yourself.”

Kara goes rigid, her humor dashed and her brow furrowing heavily.

“... You know I can’t do that.”

Soft fingertips brush down Kara’s face, tucking her hair behind her ear so tenderly. “Listen,” Lena says. “You destroyed Lex’s transmitter, along with most of his right hand, and I think you blew out the implant in your head in the process as well.”

There are thoughts then—the kind that Kara is unwilling to say aloud lest they develop reasons to be true. Thoughts like, what if the explosion damaged parts of her brain permanently? What if it severed that neural link between her eyes and everything else for good? And, how can she risk losing the one person who she believes to be absolutely, 100% real?

Lena draws Kara’s attention with a gentle hand squeeze. “Hey, where’d you go?” she asks softly.

“I’m still here,” Kara says. “Still just right here.”

But Lena seems to understand Kara’s concerns, unvoiced or not, because she leans a bit closer and asks, “Do you trust me...?”

And, yes; yes, she does.

With a deep breath filling out her lungs, Kara slowly opens her eyes. Everything’s a blur at first, just like before. But then little by little, bit by bit, the night sky comes into focus. She stares up at the darkness, counts as many stars as she can to put off the inevitable.

Then her hand is being tugged and squeezed in the gentlest reminder, so she turns her head, blinking her eyes in preparation before looking up to see Lena Luthor smiling down at her.

“Hey,” Kara says.

“Hey yourself,” Lena returns.

Kara nods thoughtfully, then gestures to Lena’s shirt. “Sorry, but I can’t afford dry cleaning,” she says, squinting at the various splashes of red—light but unfortunately prominent against the very white material—and Lena just laughs and laughs.

#lolwat?#my words.#WHERE DI THE READ MORE GO #I HATE THIS WEBSITE

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lyallblacklupin · 4 years ago

Text

Sirius tries to remember Remus.

Post-Azkaban Wolfstar: Angst with Hopeful Ending.

Sirius is battling with his memory after Azkaban. 12 years of dementors torturing him, that had caused some real damages to his brain. He doesn’t remember people until they introduce themselves to him. Everyone is steering clear his way but Remus hasn’t given up on him yet.

These days are sickening. They make you feel so lonely and ugly. They tell you—no they scream at you that you don’t deserve anything. Know why? Because you don’t matter. You don’t exist. The most horrifying thing about those voices is that they can make you believe they are saying the truth. Like I did. And I still do, and believe me, it’s not good.

Life is just unfair is so easy to say, it’s just a slip of tongue as if you are consoling a group of people, like Madam Hooch used to when we would lose to Slytherins because they played dirty. However, realizing the fact how unfair life really is, is gut-wrenching. It forces you to become unlike yourself. It puts malevolent ideas in your head for the people who you love—or used to loved. I would go on and blame these walls, but then I’m questioning the universe that why did I have to be born here? The Grimmauld Place 12? And then I’m eventually answered; Life is unfair, you git, haven’t you get it yet?

The nights are terrible here, I hear Kreacher whispering to my charming mother’s portrait, I hear the floor creaking even though no one comes here, except they are invited by Dumbledore—which sounds weird because it’s my house but again, life is just unfair.

Right now, I’m struggling to sleep because there is a prickling fear sitting at the edges of my body. The fear of Dementors for taking the last of everything away.

I still have some good memories, like the one when James made me Harry’s Godfather. Harry’s big emerald eyes were streaming with fat tears until he was given into my arms. I can remember that I had gasped at the scene, and so did the others in the room.

“Oh Sirius! He was crying for like an hour! But he stops now!? I swear this is not a coincidence!” Lily said, but James had been quiet.

“Prongs?” No answer.

“Prongsie? Hey!” Because I caught him pressing his hand on his mouth forcefully, his face blotchy, and he didn’t stop sniffing. He was crying! “What? Like you—father and son both work alternatively? When Harry stops crying, he transfers his weeping mantra to you, and vice versa?”

“Shut up!” Before I said something, I let out an ‘oof’ because James shoved me in his embrace, sandwiching Harry in middle of the process. Harry was giggling with his tear-stained face. His laugh was like music to my ears. I didn’t mention that. I was in love with Harry. He felt like my own child. I never thought I’d feel this exuberance but there was, more than I expected. I was bad at displaying true affection in front of people, but I couldn’t help when Harry’s tiny and chubby hands brushed the collar of my jacket, utterly in awe with the feeling of material on his fingers, I completely forgot James was hugging me, and I managed to press a kiss on Harry’s cheek. He smelled like soft babies. I was in love with that scent. I wanted to hold him forever.

I can never forget that memory. It helps me cast a patronus. There is also something vague about that memory. There is someone too in the small crowd, behind me, other than James. I can remember there was the blonde girl, Mckinnon, and her best friend, Meadows-something. I struggle with names. Sometimes I forget—

“Sirius?”

—Remus’ name. I have to see or hear the person to see if I can remember.

“I’m in my room?” He calls me out every time for like the hundredth time he has found me in my bedroom, and yes, I am still in my bedroom. He won’t stop calling me out. Sometimes, he is very annoying.

“Oh yeah, Of course.” He appears at the doorway, leaning to his left, smiling weakly. He looks tired. He is short of breath. I want to give him a glass of water but my limbs are protesting.

“I could give you a glass of water, but I—just don’t feel like getting up.” I didn’t want to say that but I did because the expressions on Remus’ face are priceless. There is awkwardness written on his face with a hint of shock and sadness. There is nothing pretty about that, but it brings back an indistinct memory I enjoy that I cannot tell. I am disturbing. That’s another trait I have discovered about myself ever since I came back from Azkaban.

“No, it’s alright. I just had water. Not thirsty at all. I—umm…I brought you something.” He says, and then I notice a package in his hand.

“Hope it’s not something you and your werewolf buddies plays with.”

“Ha, no, I wish. But it’s something I needed to give you…from a very long time.” He comes and sits beside me. I had to sit up because I can’t let him touch me. I don’t know why but I am always scared of Remus Lupin, and it is my secret, “Here.” He gives me the package, and looks into my eyes. I try looking away but I couldn’t try harder.

“Happy Birthday.” He whispers, and it sends a shudder to my body. What is the date today?

I open the package, and there it is. A photo frame. It was a leather frame. Black. I am trying not to look at the picture so I distract myself by admiring the leather. And again, I remember Harry. But it is a forced visualization so it doesn’t last longer. I am very much aware of Remus’ presence. I am also getting short of breath now. I look at him and he is already staring at me. I smile at him, but he frowns. And then I frown, too. What is wrong? I saw his hand coming up near my face, and I bat away.

He is gawking at him with wide and horrified eyes, and a hurt expression.

“I—I’m sorry. I don’t…I just—I am sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know you don’t. But you eventually do.” It doesn’t come out bitter. He is smiling at me, but he isn’t done talking, “Sirius, I want to talk. It is eating me alive. Sometimes, I don’t think I am left with much longer in me…But, hey,” He reaches out but stops immediately, “Please…I—I want to talk to you about…Everything or anything. We can talk about us?”

“Us?”

“Yeah…If you want to,”

“There is no Us, Remus.”

“There used to be.” I snort, but he is frowning. I hate his frowns. Why can’t he just smile like a normal person?

“Like what? Did we snog? Or shagged once or twice?” I can’t recall any heterosexual experience, so I can’t say I have never done anything with a guy.

“Sirius, was that picture not enough?” He said with such sadness. And then I look at the picture.

And then I see it. There is a younger version of Remus Lupin, wearing a giant grey jumper, sitting on a library’s table. How decent. There is someone in between his legs, standing before him. It is a dark-haired guy, wearing a Gryffindor tie on his hogwarts’ uniform. He has his hands wrapped around Remus’ torso. A thick curtain of his long hair is almost concealing the half of his face, considering how much it is already buried in Remus’ chest. He squeezes gleefully which causes the younger Remus to erupt with laughter. The scene goes back and forth. And then I spot two people sitting in far distance. They were unmistakably James and Lily. They are the only people I recognize. Those two are cackling because how stupidly romantic the two boys are acting against each other. The picture keeps playing, and I focus again on the couple in the spotlight, and I realize that little Remus is trying to press a kiss on the guy’s forehead but the other person doesn’t stand still, constantly whipped his long hair—and then I freeze all of a sudden. Because I see it. The grey eyes, the long hair, and especially the scar on the left wrist, which still glows sliver in the daylight when I secretly stand in the balcony.

“That is us.” It comes out of my mouth even though I never expect myself to say it.

“Yeah, you and me. We were not just each other’s quick snog, or shagging partner. We go way back, Padfoot. Longer than James and Lily.”

“I don’t remember you…” It comes out as a whimper. I feel stupid and vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, Sirius. I’m sorry for what I did. I never apologized about this…I wanted to—“

“I don’t remember you…”

“—but I never really got a chance. I’m sorry I thought you could betray the Potters. I’m sorry that I kept myself believing for twelve years that it was you. But I swear to Merlin, I never stopped loving you—“

“I don’t remember you, Remus…” But he is not listening.

“—I used to hate myself for this. I felt disgusting that I still loved you. And then I melted myself in filthy thoughts. No one was there to judge me. I used to picture you all the time, sitting on the sofa waiting for me to come back from the muggle job you hated. I used to see you laying on the bed in the night. I used to imagine myself cuddling up with you. And some days, it was so real that we used to talk till dawn. We used to watch the sunrise together. October 31st used to come and go by, and we pretended it was just another Halloween and you used to say ‘Moony, you hate Halloween because some people dress up as werewolves, and you don’t get to wear a costume!’—“

I stop saying anything. I cannot tell that I don’t remember him because I do. His hand accidently rubs shoulder, and I am suddenly yanked to my happiest memory—Harry’s beautiful hands reaching my jacket—and the ‘someone’ is not just someone who is behind me, rubbing my lower back and laying his head against mine, because it was him. It was Remus Lupin. It is still Remus Lupin, I want him to be.

I cannot tell that I don’t remember him because I am starting to…and it’s a start. He keeps telling me how he spent the last twelve years, so I listen to him because my years were not in an open cage just like his. It was scary to be locked up for years and never to see the people you love, but it must have been even scarier to be free for years and never see the people you love. Remus Lupin has suffered too, and I can’t help but be there for him.

So as he keeps rambling his stories about his undying love for me, I slip into his space, and wrap my arms around his torso, like I had in the picture, and bury my face into his chest. He is not warmer as he must have been in that picture but it calms me down because his heart is beating against mine, and I am happy to have him alive with me.

Thanks for reading! Stay magical!

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hockeylvr59 · 5 years ago

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Secret Love || Cale Makar

Authors Note: So uh…I’m starting another series...no one is surprised right? You’re probably going to hate this part but uh...we’re in it for the long haul here so just bear with me. Warnings: none Word Count: 1,308

~~~~

“Sara’s pregnant.”

No sentence had ever made you feel anger, fear, disbelief, sadness and a whole bevy of other emotions quite as quickly as that one did. You wanted to scream and you wanted to cry. Instead, you put a mask over your expressions and just took the glass of wine Laura was offering as she filled hers to the brim.

“What?” You whispered, your voice cracking slightly.

“Cale called me today...he was so obviously nervous and before I could even ask what was wrong he was rambling on about how she was pregnant and he didn’t know what to do...” You could see the disappointment on Laura’s face and you attempted to send her a reassuring smile, though you were sure she noticed how forced it seemed. Swirling your wine in your glass, you thought about all of the reasons this news bothered you, making you almost sick to your stomach.

Your mom had been friends with Laura Makar for as long as you could remember. You couldn’t really remember much about their friendship when you were really little but when you were four and a half, Laura had Cale. And ever since then...he had been yours. When he was just a baby he was practically your baby doll, but as he got older he became the person you could turn to for anything. Where Cale went, you went, and vice versa. People often suggested that he was like a brother to you because of the age gap but you’d never thought of him that way. He was one of the closest friends you had and that was that. And even though you weren’t as close now as you had once been, you were still hurt that you’d heard it from Laura and not Cale himself.

You’d only met Sara on a handful of occasions. Cale had met her shortly before he headed off to UMASS for college and they had started up a long-distance relationship very quickly. When you’d first met Sara you’d thought she was sweet, but over the past three years, you’d grown more suspicious of her motivations when it came to your best friend. At first, you had just chalked up the feelings to being an outsider to their relationship, after all, Cale seemed happy enough and you had no reason to dislike Sara. But then Cale had made the NHL and suddenly all of your suspicions were proven true.

Sara had moved to Denver, claiming she wanted to be closer to Cale. Now you knew she just wanted to be closer to Cale’s network and the benefits it could provide her to be seen on his arm. You’d followed her on Instagram since they started dating and it was clear she had forgotten because when Cale was on the road, specifically when he was in the middle of a game, stories would pop up where she was dressed provocatively, men’s hands all over her body. By the time the game ended, she’d taken them down. You kept your mouth shut the first two times because you didn’t want to be the kind of person that butts into someone’s relationship. But when a third showed up, with a man’s hand placed precariously close to her pelvis you’d decided you’d had enough. Still, you didn’t tell Cale, instead you dm’ed Sara confronting her on her actions. She’d just sent a laughing emoji back before quickly blocking you. But thanks to a secondary profile and her lack of private status, you knew that she was still very much cheating.

Looking across the table at Laura, you could tell she had suspicions of her own even if she hadn’t seen the visual proof you did. In that moment, you made up your mind that you had to talk to Cale.

“This is not what we wanted for him.” Laura sighed, blinking back tears as she battled with the weight of the news.

It killed you to see her so upset because while Cale had never been like a brother, Laura had absolutely become your second mom. After graduating college, you’d found a job locally at a real estate firm and settled into your own place, completely on your own for the very first time. Just a few weeks later, your parents announced that they were moving back east to Ontario. Unable to turn to your own mom whenever you needed help or advice, you found yourself turning to Laura and she had quickly become your closest confidant. Now, when you needed to unwind with a glass of wine, you made your way to the Makar residence and Laura’s warm arms.

You didn’t know what to say or what to do, so you just sat with her, holding her hand as she cried and downed glasses of wine until Gary had to carry her up to bed.

Promising that you were alright to drive and hadn’t had much as she had, you headed back to your apartment, your own tears finally falling once you were completely alone. You didn’t sleep much that night, instead choosing to scroll through all of the photos of you and Cale that you had on your phone, thinking over all of the memories the two of you had shared. You’d pretended you hadn’t heard it, but as Gary worked to get Laura up and to bed she had definitely slurred that she’d always thought it would be you having her grandchildren. And though you’d long told yourself that harboring a crush on Cale was a waste of energy to the point that you hardly thought of him that way, the knowledge that someone else was even potentially (because you weren’t fully convinced) having his baby caused your heart to start to crack.

Since sleep was hard to come by, you found yourself staring at the contact list in your phone at six am, running over what you were going to tell Cale when you worked up the courage to call him. Somehow, you managed to hold off until around 9 am when you knew Cale would normally be on his way to the rink.

As the phone rang once...twice...three times, you felt your breath catch in your throat. Then you heard Cale’s voice, scratchier than normal like he had either just woken up or had been crying. Just like that, everything you had been planning to say for hours just vanished from your brain.

“You need to have a paternity test done.” The words came out quickly and automatically.

“What the hell Y/N?” Cale questioned and you knew you had taken him off guard.

“Sara has been cheating on you. When you’re in the middle of a game she’ll post stories with other guy’s hands all over her and then delete it when the game ends. I didn’t want to get in the middle of it but a month and a half or so ago I confronted her on it and she blocked me. I...you deserve to know there’s a possibility the baby isn’t yours.”

“How did you even…? Oh, that’s right you’re besties with my mom now. This isn’t any of your business Y/N so just stay the hell out of it okay?” His voice was sarcastic and harsh, two tones you’d never heard him use before and the moment he finished speaking he hung up.

You had probably just ruined everything but...you couldn’t not say something.

And well...not having him in your life anymore couldn’t be any worse than having to see him doting on Sara and his child right?

Canceling your appointments for the day, you turned your phone off and crawled into bed wishing that you had multiple bottles of wine you could use to drown away the pain from the ice pick Cale had just shoved in your fractured heart.

#cale makar #cale makar imagine #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #cavalanche #038

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there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years ago

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Not Your Average Love Story (SPN x CM)

Sam Winchester x Spencer Reid

Word Count: ~3490

Warnings: Show-level violence, but that’s about it! It’s bizarrely fluffy.

A/N: My first square for @cmbingo: “meet the parents.” This is essentially a rewrite of Supernatural 12x01, “Keep Calm and Carry On,” except Spencer and Sam are adorable dorky murder boyfriends.

Thanks to @fangirlxwritesx67 for the read-through!

When Spencer realizes he’s in love with Sam, he’s on a plane, hoping to make it to Kansas before the sun goes dark.

He looks out the window at the too-orange light, thinking, this is a weird twist for a love story. He turns that thought over in his mind and realizes: love.

Oh.

It takes him by surprise, for some reason, but only for a second. He’s starting to get used to surprises.

* * *

Spencer has always been self-aware enough to realize that his intellect and his lack of social skills would not make it easy to strike up a traditional relationship. Then, of course, you factor in his obsessive tendencies, his attachment issues, and the stresses of his job, and it’s not actually surprising that he made it past the age of thirty before he fell in love for the first time. Considering how that ended, it’s definitely a surprise — if not a minor miracle — that he’s made it this far with Sam.

Then again, nothing about their relationship has been predictable. Spencer never guessed he’d meet his future partner while dissecting a dessicated brain.

Ever since Spencer Reid met Sam Winchester, his life has been one surprise after another.

* * *

The third unanswered call makes him nervous, but he figures Sam must be asleep, or at least he should be asleep. If Spencer finds himself doing ninety mph in his tiny rental car, it’s mostly because Kansas highways don’t seem to follow the usual laws of physics. They’re flat and endless and eerie in the grey pre-dawn light.

The moment he opens the door, Spencer knows something is wrong. He spares a wishful thought for his Kevlar, and then he draws his gun, falling automatically into the too-familiar stance as he silently descends the stairs.

There’s blood on the floor.

This doesn’t surprise him in the slightest.

* * *

Spencer tends to spend a lot of time visualizing hypothetical problems and their solutions. He’s good at imagining all the potential outcomes of a particular scenario and calculating their likelihoods based on given variables. He frequently does this at night, instead of sleeping.

In other words, he worries a lot.

If he were in a normal relationship he would probably worry about normal things. For example: whether Spencer was misreading the situation, whether it was okay to run a thorough background check on them, and what to wear on a date. What would their first argument be about? What would their parents think of him? What would his mom think of them?

About thirty-six hours after they met, Sam saved Spencer’s mom from a wraith; first impressions don’t get much better than that.

The normal worries were rapidly eclipsed by Sam-specific worries. For example: what if he got cursed, what if he got possessed, and were there angels or demons after him this week. Why couldn’t Dean either drive a little slower or get a car with less antiquated safety features? How would Spencer help if Sam got hurt on the job? Should he tell the B.A.U. what he’s been learning about the supernatural?

He does end up telling them everything; Sam and Dean show up at a crime scene, Hotch almost arrests them, and it turns out that one of the serial killers they’ve been hunting for a decade is actually a skinwalker.

But the point is that when Spencer sees blood on the floor, he isn’t surprised. He’s visualized this scenario — and several hundred variations on it — before.

* * *

He hears a raised voice in the library and takes the steps two at a time. There are two complete strangers there, a blonde woman aiming a gun at a man, and Spencer’s training kicks in before he can figure out why she looks familiar.

“Federal agent, hands in the air,” he barks.

He can see the split-second when the woman thinks about turning her gun on him, but she seems to think better of it, and she sets the gun down slowly before putting her hands in the air.

“Who are you?” the man demands. “What did you do with Sam?”

“What — Sam?” Spencer asks, panic rising in his throat. “Spencer Reid, FBI. Who —”

“You’re Spencer?” he asks, brow furrowed.

Spencer realizes: “You’re Castiel.”

“Whoa, whoa, hey, gun down,” Dean interrupts. “It’s okay! She’s okay, Spence!”

“Dean? You’re alive?” Castiel grabs him before he can say anything else.

Spencer lowers his gun slowly. He’s starting to hyperventilate. He wants to know how Dean is still alive, yes, but he’s watching the way they embrace, the smile on Cas’s face and the way Dean’s shoulders seem to drop like he’s relaxing for the first time in a long time, and all he can think about is —

“Can somebody tell me where the hell Sam is?” Spencer asks, voice cracking embarrassingly.

“He’s not here,” Castiel says.

The woman looks between Cas and Spencer, eyes wide, and it’s not clear who she’s talking to when she asks, “Who are you?”

“He’s my —” Dean starts.

Cas cuts him off by saying, “He’s Sam’s —” at the same time Spencer blurts out, “He’s an angel.”

“Come again?” the woman asks, and when she sees the way Dean shifts nervously, she adds, “Not that, I don’t care about — you said angel?”

“Angel. You know. Wings, harp.”

“Not actually,” Spencer tells her, just as Cas scowls and says, “No, I don’t have a harp.”

“Cas, Spencer,” Dean says, and he pauses, swallowing hard. “This is Mary. Mary Winchester.”

Spencer and Cas speak in unison again, Cas in a gruff monotone as Spencer’s voice goes squeaky: “Your mother?”

Of all the things Spencer has worried about, he never thought he would never have to worry about making a bad first impression on Sam’s parents. Sam’s parents are dead.

Except… apparently not. Apparently Sam’s mom has been resurrected, and Spencer just pulled a gun on her.

“Nice to meet you,” Mary says softly, with a tentative smile.

For a second he freezes, staring at her, and his mind starts racing, recalculating, replanning, getting his worrying done after the fact, and Spencer has no idea what to say. He never made a plan for this.

“Nice to meet you,” he responds, flushing. “Um. Sorry about that.”

“I’d have done the same thing if I were you.” She smiles, and she doesn’t look much like Sam, but the kindness in her eyes is so very familiar. Spencer’s breath catches.

“She’s not kidding, shoulda seen the way she pinned me when I tried to introduce myself,” Dean grumbles. Then he turns to Castiel and says, “Tell me what happened to Sam.”

As Castiel starts to explain the details, Spencer calls Penelope.

“FBI, office of the brilliant but under-caffeinated,” she says, slightly less chirpy than he’s used to, and Spencer realizes how early it is. Oops.

“It’s me.”

“Oh! Boy genius! They did it, huh? Hotch called us back in, like, as soon as the sun came back on, because apparently criminals don’t stop just because the world is ending, or whatever, but he wanted to give you a day at least — hey, are you okay? How’s that handsome lumberjack of yours?”

“Sam’s missing,” Spencer says without preamble. “I need your help.”

It takes Penelope approximately a minute to find the car and identify the driver, but the identity of his passenger is a little more elusive. She types away, keys clattering ceaselessly in the background, as Spencer yawns.

“Got it! Okay, I have a cell number. If you call her, I can track it. You ready?”

“Dean, give me your phone?” Spencer asks, holding out a hand. “You stay on the line with Penelope. She can tell you as soon as she gets the address.”

“I can make the call,” Dean says. “I want to have a word with this bitch.”

“Dean,” Spencer snaps. “First of all, I’m the only person here who’s trained in hostage negotiation. Finding people is literally in my job description.”

“This isn’t a fuckin’ bank holdup, this is my brother,” Dean retorts. “It’s my job to take care of him.”

“If you call her a bitch and start in on your threatening macho bullshit, she’s going to hang up, or worse, she’s going to believe you, and then she’ll be trying to get you before you can get to Sam. I know how to talk to people like this. If I can convince her I’m scared, that I’m not a real threat, she might give something away.”

“But —”

“Secondly, the only people who know you’re alive are in this room right now, which means you’re our best chance to take her by surprise when we get there, so shut up and let me do my job.”

“You really think you can find him,” Dean says, and it’s not a question. He holds out his phone with a look of begrudging respect.

“Yes.”

Spencer thinks, I have to.

* * *

People aren’t all the same, but if you could quantify the concept of normal, if you could look at it statistically, most people would fall within the standard deviation. Most of their lives take an even, predictable shape, Spencer thinks. There are plenty of other people like them, and they seem to fit with each other, too, interlocking in an easy way that Spencer has always envied.

Spencer’s got all these awkward uneven edges and strange angles. He’s not normal, and he’s always known that.

For a long time, he doesn’t think he’ll ever find someone who’ll fit easily, not without changing him, trying to reshape him in some way. He doesn’t want to change, but he gets lonely. Most people (friends, let alone lovers) don’t last long before they get sick of his quirks. Some try longer than others, but one way or another, there’s always some jarring part of him that doesn’t match what they want.

What if they like to sleep with the windows open, even in the winter? Or if they sleep with the air conditioning cranked up in the summer? Spencer knows he should be better about compromising on little things like that, but he really prefers things a certain way. He knows it’s neurotic. He can’t help it.

Spencer is used to people staring blankly when he starts talking, but at what point will it drive someone away? When will they stop pretending to care about his Doctor Who opinions? When will they get bored of his info-dumping?

And then there are the really difficult questions. How does he tell someone he used to be an addict? What if he doesn’t want to tell them about being kidnapped and tortured? What if he does, and then they start asking questions? How does he explain his PTSD, or his nightmares, or his bedtime routine of triple-checking every lock and setting his gun within arm’s reach?

At first, when he met Sam, Spencer worried about arguments and parents and all the other normal things, but more importantly, he worried about himself. He wondered which of his irregularities would finally make Sam give up on his attempts to fit Spencer into his life.

Neither of them sleep much, but when they do end up sharing a bed, Sam has his own routine; while Spencer checks the locks, Sam draws warding symbols, lines each window and door with salt, and sets his gun within reach. He likes the windows closed and the thermostat above 68, because, he explains simply, “Lucifer runs cold.”

Speaking of Lucifer. Sam understands addiction, kidnapping, torture, PTSD, and nightmares, and he doesn’t ask Spencer to tell his stories before he’s ready. Sam has stories of his own.

Sam also has his own Doctor Who opinions, and those opinions were the cause of their very first argument. Sam is wrong, but Spencer loves that he cares enough to argue.

The first time Spencer started rambling about serial killers, he noticed Sam frowning and cut himself off, embarrassed, ready to apologize. Sam just pulled out a journal and asked him to repeat what he’d said, so that Sam could do more research on the subject later.

Sam doesn’t expect him to change. He doesn’t try to re-shape Spencer. His life is just as weird, and by all logic they shouldn’t fit, but they do. And Spencer doesn’t feel any less himself, but suddenly he realizes that he must’ve changed along the way, because he can’t imagine his life without Sam any more; if they can’t find him, his absence is going to tear Spencer apart.

* * *

It’s a tense car ride, to say the least.

Hell of a first impression, Spencer thinks again, glancing at Mary’s pale, worried face in the rearview.

Castiel and Mary are in the backseat, and they’re trying to make small talk, but Castiel seems to be about as good as Spencer at the whole “casual conversation” thing. Sam’s told him so much about Castiel, Spencer feels like he knows him, but they’ve never actually crossed paths before.

And then there’s Dean, who’s got his jaw clenched, staring straight ahead. Spencer gives him directions, and he grunts or nods, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Dean intimidates the hell out of him, but they’ve always gotten along fine, maybe because Spencer’s never yelled at him before. He’s very aware that arguing with Dean Winchester is usually fruitless at best (and deadly at worst), but he’s never been good at holding his tongue when he’s upset.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer manages to mutter eventually.

“Huh?” Dean looks at him, frowning.

“About earlier. I didn’t mean to — um.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Dean says gruffly.

“I was upset. I’m sorry.”

Dean shrugs, and he hesitates before adding, “You were right.” He looks as surprised to be saying it as Spencer is to hear it.

Spencer blinks at him a couple times before hurriedly saying, “Turn left. There.”

Cas and Mary are having a quiet conversation about the weirdness of technology, and Spencer is about to join them when Dean speaks up again.

“Garcia — she said something funny.”

“Uh oh.”

Dean snorts. “Nah, not like that. Before she hung up, she told me not to worry. Said of everybody she knows, Sam probably has the second-best odds of escaping any poor sap who tries to abduct him.”

“Second best?”

“That’s what I said. But apparently that title belongs to you.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it. All I can do is talk myself out, he’s stronger.” Spencer gives him a crooked attempt at a smile; it feels awkward on his face, but he means it when he says, “He’ll be okay.”

* * *

The funny thing is, Spencer has been in this situation before.

When it was Maeve, though, he panicked, because all he could think about was how she must feel: scared, helpless. Spencer has too much empathy sometimes. Imagining Maeve’s helplessness made him feel like he was drowning.

This is different. He’s not exactly zen about the whole situation, of course; it feels like a piece of him is missing, but he’s clear-headed, because he knows that Sam is anything but helpless. He trusts Sam to take care of himself.

Aside from the supernatural element, Sam’s job is astoundingly similar to Spencer’s, and he’s astoundingly good at it. The Winchesters have consulted on a couple cases, now, for the B.A.U. (Spencer’s still not sure how Hotch manages the paperwork) and they try to find cases in the same general area as wherever Spencer winds up, so they’ve gotten to work together a few times. Sam’s sheer competence at his job might be the most attractive thing Spencer has ever seen.

Spencer used to imagine a quiet, mundane romance. He always just assumed he’d find someone whose life was more normal than his, and he was resigned to the stress it would cause in a relationship. He’d forget to call, he’d miss dinner, he’d have to cancel plans and be absent from so much of what constituted a normal domestic life, and his partner would be left at home, alone, all too aware of how much danger Spencer could be in, helpless to do anything about it.

Instead, Spencer found Sam. Spencer never has to feel guilty about missing dinner, because Sam isn’t at home worrying about him. Sam is out there saving the world.

Sam is not going to wait for Spencer to rescue him; he might not even need rescuing, at this point. Instead of worrying about what Sam is doing and whether he’s scared, Spencer can focus on his own plan.

* * *

He and Dean circle slowly around the house. They spot the entrance to the basement, and Dean almost runs right to it, but Spencer grabs his arm and points to the sigils around the door.

Spencer notices movement through a window next to the back door, and when they creep up to get a glimpse inside, he sees two women. One is the blonde — the brains of the operation — and the other is stockier, clearly the muscle.

After a quick conversation in whispers and gestures, Dean sneaks around to the side of the house opposite the basement, and a second later Spencer hears him shout. He waits a couple seconds and glances in the window again, and sure enough, the bigger woman is gone while the blonde is watching something on a computer monitor, looking agitated. Security cameras, maybe.

Spencer is about to go inside when he sees the blonde start, look around, and grab a cattle prod. Then she’s hurrying toward a door, sliding back a heavy deadbolt, and Spencer sees a dark stairwell that must lead to the basement.

He slips through the door and follows her.

For a split-second, the scene in the basement almost stops his heart. Sam is lying on the floor, completely still, his head surrounded by a puddle of blood.

But before Spencer can really process what he’s seeing, let alone react, Sam is in motion: lashing out, grabbing her by the throat, shoving her against the wall. Spencer descends the stairs quietly with his gun at the ready, trying not to make any noise that might distract Sam right now.

Sam doesn’t need his help. There’s blood on his damp clothes and his arms are shaking as the blonde goes limp in his grip, but he’s alive; he doesn’t need Spencer’s help, and Spencer isn’t the slightest bit surprised.

When Sam turns and sees him, he doesn’t look surprised either. He just smiles, all dimples and sparkling eyes in spite of his obvious pain as he limps over.

“Sorry that took me so long,” Spencer says casually, trying to control his grin. He doesn’t want to holster his gun yet, so he keeps it trained on the woman and hugs Sam one-armed.

Sam wraps his arms around Spencer, holding on tight. Spencer rests his forehead on Sam’s shoulder, taking a second to breathe as he feels missing pieces sliding neatly into place.

“Love you,” Sam says, and the words sound like a sigh of relief. He pulls back, and he looks surprised, like he didn’t actually mean to say that out loud.

Spencer’s about to reply when he sees the woman struggling to her feet, reaching for her cattle prod, and so instead he says, “Look out.”

Sam steps sideways to give him a clear shot. Spencer shoots her in the thigh and she screams as she falls to the floor.

“See how you like it,” Sam tells her, with a vicious little smile.

“I love you too,” Spencer blurts out.

For a second they both pause, grinning at each other like idiots, their surroundings forgotten.

Then there’s a sound from overhead, and Sam asks hurriedly, “The other one. Did you take her out already?”

“Dean’s got her,” Spencer tells him. “We should check on him, then we can come back down and deal with — Sam?”

At first he can’t figure out why Sam’s mouth drops open like that, shocked and disbelieving. Then he remembers.

“Dean’s alive?” Sam asks, a smile spreading slowly over his face. Spencer nods, wrapping an arm around Sam’s ribs, supporting him as he limps gingerly toward the stairs. It feels like he’s forgetting something.

There’s another noise, and then Mary is in the doorway, looking down at them.

Oh.

Sam turns to Spencer silently, like he’s waiting for confirmation that she’s real.

Spencer nods. “Yeah. So — um. Surprise?”

Sam doesn’t actually seem all that surprised, because… of course he doesn’t. He blinks at Spencer a couple times and then he grins.

“You met my mom before I did,” Sam says, breathless and amused, and grabs the banister to haul himself up the stairs. Spencer laughs and follows him, smiling to himself.

It’s not your average “meet the parents” scene, but somehow, it fits Sam and Spencer perfectly.

Nothing about their love story has been normal. Why start now?

#cmbingo21 #criminal minds #supernatural #sam winchester x spencer reid #spencer reid fic #sam winchester fic

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tobiosmilktea · 5 years ago

Note

Hello! I really love your writing and I just saw your requests are open yay 👏🏻 So my idea is that the reader (female or neutral, as you prefer it) is a third year who takes art lessons as an extracurricular subject or something and the teacher ask their students to draw posters of the sport teams, and the reader got the volleyball team. The thing is the reader knows the third years but they're not really close, so they talk just a bit. (Part 1)

paint the clouds — tendou satori

4.7k words | genre/s: fluff | warning/s: possible ooc on everyone tbh | pairing: tendou x f!reader

↪︎ in which you painted a muse who always wanted you too

a/n: definitely not my best work and im super sorry for that, but i hope you still enjoy it 👉🏻👈🏻

a warm spring breeze blew strands of your hair in front of your face, laying against your rosy cheeks as you watched the horizon. the bright yellow sun teased the sky with hues of pink and orange, bound to mix into the darkness of the sunset. school had ended a few hours ago and now you were sitting in your art club waiting for your teacher to dismiss you. she was in a middle of a spiel explaining your next art project, but your brain struggled to follow.

your hand ached from drawing for hours, your wrist tender from constant pressure, and now you could’ve sworn you were going to get carpal tunnel sooner or later. it was worth it, anyway, you were doing what you liked doing as you honestly felt being an artist was your only talent. it was merely the only thing you focused on besides your academics. dating was certainly out of the question.

instead, you watched the birds fly past the open classroom window as your teacher explained the assignment something along the lines doing sports teams posters.

“i will be walking around the classroom with a box filled with names of sports clubs,” the teacher starts, pulling you out of your train of thought as your attention was finally set on her. “you will pick a random piece of paper from the box and that will be the sports team you will be making a club poster for.”

whispers erupted in the room as others verbalized which team they wished to get.

“i hope i get the volleyball team, they’re literally iconic.” you heard one girl say.

another voice exclaimed, “drawing the equestrian team sounds super fun too!”

the murmurs continued to the buzz even after the majority of the class had already picked out their sports team from the box. you were the last one to choose as you opted to sit in the back of the class.

“and last but not least,” said your teacher as she serpentine through the desks towards your sitting figure.

your hand dug into the small cardboard box only to feel one last piece of paper. you wanted to scoff slightly, but you stopped yourself the moment you grabbed the last slip of paper and read the messy handwriting. it took you a good second to even understand what it said as it was complete chicken scratch (no offense to the teacher).

“(y/n), what did you get?” your friend who sat in front of you turned with a smile on her face.

"i got the volleyball club,” you answered, eyes widening when your friend gasped.

“that’s literally the best one to get! i’m so jealous,” she sighed as if she just inhaled a rose scented breeze.

perhaps you were lucky to get such a sought after sports team as your main focus for the assignment, but you couldn’t help but feel an overbearing weight suddenly falling upon your shoulders. shiratorizawa’s volleyball team was the epitome of the academy. they were the ones who brought a significant name to the school with only the smartest of intellects but one with the best athletes. depending on how well you created this poster could potentially make or break your reputation. it was a visual representation of the team, anything less than iconic would dig a deeper hole for you.

it certainly doesn’t help the fact that you actually had to talk to the volleyball team now that you were in charge of their school poster. you internally groaned. you barely interacted with the third years, let alone being completely enamored over a familiar red-head.

your after school activities had ended in the midst of your running train of thoughts as you absentmindedly gathered your things and walked out of the classroom. you gripped the handle of your bag as you strolled through the near-empty hallways of the academy, your mind in a complete spiral as you had already tried visualizing what the end product might look like.

it was common knowledge to everyone who had known about you was well aware how amazing you were at art. no matter what medium you were given, you were known to be the girl who had magical hands that could create even the most beautiful things out of ash and smoke. you had this some innate, almost magical ability to have others stop in their tracks just to admire your works.

perhaps that you were too caught up in your own thoughts and the hypnotic tapping rhythm of your loafers clicking against the school floors that you hadn’t even notice your arrival towards the gym.

even the loud shouts of volleyball players from the ongoing practice wasn’t enough to pull your gaze away from the ground and towards the flying volleyball hurdling towards you.

“(y/l/n), watch out!” you heard a familiar voice shout out, immediately pulling you out of your own jungle-like psyche and into the real world.

everything had happened so quickly, all you knew was a blur fly past you to retrieve the ball before it knocked out of conscious. semi eita quickly turned to you, his figure greatly towering over you as he gave you a reassuring smile. “are you okay, (y/l/n)?”

you gulped, nodding almost too quickly. “yeah, i’m okay.”

“good,” he mutters as his brows slightly furrow in confusion. there was a thin blanket of awkwardness hovering above both of your heads as you both stood there in silence for a good five seconds—five seconds too long that is. “so what brings you here?” he finally breaks it, scratching the back of his head in the mean time.

right, you had almost forgotten why you were here in the first place.

“it’s about the art club, we’re doing sports team posters and i was wondering if i could talk to the third years for ideas.” you asked gently.

semi’s eyes immediately widened, the already prevalent smile on his face only increased at the statement. “that’s cool! come with me, i’ll show you to them.” he quickly motioned you to come inside the gym, feeling the brisk air difference of the air conditioned gymnasium to the warm spring breeze outside.

a shiver flowed down your back. not from the sudden influx of cold air surrounding your body, but the fact that towering volleyball players and their ever-so-intimidating nature causing nervous habits to take over you. soekawa jin, the vice captain of the team quickly flickered a look towards you before tapping ushijima’s arm for his attention. turning to see what his teammate wanted, soekawa swiftly pointed at you and semi approaching.

“it’s a surprise seeing you here, (y/l/n).” ushijima greets you in his deep, guttural voice. it caused you to gulp nervously, struggling to even put on the tiniest of smiles as you meekly muttered a ‘hi’ to the rest of the third years. however, it seemed as if the one you were most familiar with was not in sight. it did seem a tad bit quiet in the gym now that the practice game was on a time out.

“um,” one of the wing spikers approached you, ohira reon was it? “sorry for almost hitting you, by the way.”

you swiftly shook your head, “no, it’s okay. i was the one who wasn’t playing attention, so that’s on me.”

“so, you’re here for the poster?” ushijima cut into it like a sharp knife, bold and straight to the point.

“yeah, um, i just stopped by to ask if you guys had anything ideal you want to see on your club poster.” your voice was softer than you hoped it would be when you spoke.

eyebrows furrowing, ushijima glances among his teammates as provocation for an option saturated his hums of curiosity.

semi then clears his throat, “we’re not really sure if we have any input for you, (y/n). besides, i think your poster will be amazing nevertheless.”

“that’s still a lot of pressure,” you mutter, “considering i would be mauled to death if this poster isn’t amazing.” sarcasm drenched your words like saccharine, hoping that the tall athletes would at least get your banter and share a laugh with you.

but they didn’t. instead, they stared with wide eyes at you in a mere worrying glance. perhaps the joke didn’t exactly translate well.

god, this is so awkward.

however, it wasn’t like you were exactly lying. as the face of shiratorizawa academy, you were aware that they needed to look good and if it were any less than that, you might never see the light of day ever again. not to mention you always liked adding twists to your artwork, which was technically the only reason why you were so infamously known to have such amazing works. but in the past half hour, you’ve came to the conclusion that it possibly isn’t the best option in this case.

“i’m kidding, by the way,” you let out a light huff.

“well, if it helps you in any way, you could always focus on ushijima as he is our ace.” soekawa cuts in, patting the captain’s back the moment he braided his arms over each other.

any form of leftover conversation (or lack thereof) was sliced—cut off from the sudden opening of the gymnasium doors and the (quite obnoxiously) loud middle blocker. tendou satori entered the giant gym with a bright beaming face of glimmering lights and cherries. tendou was perhaps one of the first people to talk to you the moment you entered this academy, eyes glazed in a honey-like optimism with every bright ‘hello.’ you always tended to be the quiet and secluded one in your classes with him despite being known to be infamously sardonic, you seemed to be the only one to which his overly comic ways of banter didn’t annoy you like it did with others. he, himself, was a sunray, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to expose that thought as your eyes fall onto the approaching boy.

out of all the third year volleyball players, you and tendou had talked the most, yet considering you two as more than just mere acquaintances was a bit of a reach.

“yo!” the redhead’s loud voice thundered throughout the gym and you could already feel it echo within your heart.

“you’re back,” mused ohira with his hands on his hips. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” tendou says, fixing the loosened athlete’s tape over his fingers. “but the school nurse was already gone by the time i got there, so i had to fix myself up—oh hey, (y/n)!” he had cut himself off the moment his eyes fell upon yours.

your breath had hitched the moment he greeted you. it was as if your heart had immediately jumped into your throat and prevented you from even muttering a word as you can already feel your palms getting clammy. “hey,” you mutter almost in a whisper.

“so what are you doing here?” questioned tendou as his eyes suddenly widen the moment the words came out of his mouth, “uh-that sounded really rude, um—i actually meant that in the nicest way possible, by the way.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his sudden burst of scattered thoughts, noticing a faint flush of pink upon his cheeks.

“she’s here for the club poster,” ushijima answers in your place as you seemed to not answer even after a beat had passed.

“oh nice! i’m sure it’ll look really cool!” the middle blocker grinned at you to which a sudden wave of monarch butterflies attacked your gut. you could even feel the heat coursing through your cheeks and all the way to the tips of your ears until they were as red as tendou’s hair.

“hopefully,” you modestly commented, eyes then falling upon tendou’s wrapped wrist and couldn’t help but be filled with curiosity. “what happened to you?”

the middle blocker shook his head dismissively. “i tried blocking one of ushijima’s spikes again, but as you know, it is a bit impossible and i ended up hurting myself. it’s no biggie, though.” he shrugs.

“t-that’s amazing.” you breathed out before you could catch yourself. and you swore, you saw the light pink hues of blush upon tendou’s face had darkened.

how cool, you thought with the stars in your eyes. the thought was a bit controversial, but you couldn’t but find tendou satori cooler than ushijima at that very moment. the fact that he knew very well how difficult and painful it was to block his spikes, tendou still attempted it to the point at the cusp of being injured. you began fiddling with your fingers for far too long as you’ve come to realize how long you were standing there for no more reason. you mentally face palmed as you cleared your throat, “anyway, if you guys do have any preferred ideas let me know before friday.”

before the boys could even say a proper goodbye, your legs were already carrying you towards the exits of the gymnasium as if it was running on autopilot. she did hear their shouts of good lucks from across the room as your long strides pushed you to quickly leave.

why was i so awkward for?

in retrospect, perhaps you were more nervous than you thought. it had been an entire week since you had received the assignment to create a club poster for the volleyball team and there hadn’t been a night filled with peaceful sleep. instead, they were brimming with 2am moments of inspired antics. working on the large poster filled you with nothing but utter confidence even after it was finished, but now that you were actually at school with the rolled up poster of the incredible volleyball team, you couldn’t help but feel waves of reluctance and insecurity.

it was always like this with you. where everything was fine and your confidence within your works were expected, but the moment you did have to present such things, you couldn’t help but think of what you should’ve done differently. you assumed that you could’ve improved your mixed media skills by a little bit as there wasn’t much you could’ve done either way in that murky little head of yours that obviously lacked sleep.

the hallways of shiratorizawa were still pretty empty as it was still quite early in the morning. most of the students were outside anyway, so you quickly took this chance to unroll the large poster. taking some push-pins from the side pocket of your school bag, you hung the poster up in it’s place.

you breathed out one last sigh of ichor before picking up your bag and walking away from the masterpiece.

throughout the entire day, you had come across dozens of stares of others as you walked through the hallways, bringing your endless sea of nerves to heighten until you were dragged upon its tides. there were whispers everywhere. they were probably talking about your poster for the volleyball club and immediately you felt drowned in sorrow.

within a snap, had already thought of the worse possible outcomes that others were talking about how terrible of a job you did. perhaps that leap of faith, that tiny step out of the box when creating your poster was too much of a risk that you ended up falling to your own demise.

“(y/n)!” a voice called from behind you.

turning over your shoulder, you saw a familiar redhead making his way towards you in a bright amble. you immediately felt your heart drop as you whip your head back around and started to walk away.

shit, shit shit. you thought, tendou was definitely not the first person you wanted to talk to you when the possibilities of what he had to say to you was tangling in your psyche. as if they were tangled vines yearning to be untangled for his closure and yet, you refused.

your shoes clicked rapidly against the floors of the school when suddenly your wrist was pulled back, turning towards his familiar tall figure.

your direct gaze was on his chest, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up upon his eyes. you couldn’t, at least. as if you were, your face would resemble something similar to a tomato.

“listen, tendou.” you muttered, still not attempting to meet his gaze. “i’m kind of late for class, but if you want talk later then we can—”

“no, i want to talk now,” he stated seriously, almost too seriously as it caused you to look up to him in surprise.

your mouth gaped to say something, yet nothing seemed to come out.

“i just wanted to say thanks for the poster.” tendou says as his breath almost hitched from the mere sight of you. he could recall the rushing feeling of blood coursing towards his cheeks and ears the moment he stepped upon school grounds and saw your poster. there his painted figure was, stood more prominently than the rest of his team. it was as if he needed the taste of sweet-tongued cough syrup just to ease his aching cheeks from smiling so hard.

the feeling was amazing. that from the smallest little action of you focusing on him rather than what he thought was going to be ushijima (like always) it was you who chose him. the loud middle blocker over the incredible ace of shiratorizawa. he knew validation wasn’t everything, and yet, his immense feeling of being at the top of the world certainly didn't help the fact that he had always been in love with you. you and tendou had the same class each and every year, that each first day of school, he would always sit giddily at his desk just so he could watch your angelic figure walk in.

in spite of it all, from his loud and upfront nature, he could never bring himself to even talk to you everyday besides an occasional ‘good morning’ whenever you would walk in. perhaps seeing this poster of himself was a little push into the deep end—to finally grow the guts to spill his unspoken epiphanies of built up feelings for once.

“usually, it’s ushijima who’s the face of the shiratorizawa team, but it’s nice seeing a change.” continued the middle blocker on the cusp of rambling, “i really didn’t expect you to focus it on me though, so that was a surprise... which by the way,” he hesitates as if he was do embarrassed to even ask. “why did you choose me?”

you pursed your lips the moment your breath was snatched from your lungs. “um,” you sighed, your mind speedily trying to come up with a plausible answer—something other than perhaps inevitably revealing you feelings for him, “i just think you’re really cool.” was all you could come up with and quite honestly, you wanted to face palm yourself for how stupid it probably sounded.

but to tendou, it was an absolute godsend. his heart thumped rapidly against his rib cage as his cheeks reddened into crimson wine. he didn’t know what else to say afterwards as that was his final push. it was then the idea popped inside his mind. a cheeky smile melted upon his lips as he patted your head gently.

“you’re an amazing artist, (y/n).” he complimented, amused by the fact he was the one who caused your reddening face before turning his heel and waving, “see you tomorrow!”

“u-uh, see you?” you stammered over his sudden departure, briefly waving before hold your hand to your chest. you felt as if your heart was to inevitably combust at the sudden overflow of ardor and vehemence of tendou satori’s actions.

a sigh left your peachy lips, why am i feeling like this?

tendou could’ve sworn he had enough time to make it back to practice before stirring up any suspicions from his team, but the unfortunate tides have come across and drenched him in ill-fate—all gross and sticky.

ever since seeing your poster of him the day before, the thought of you had been on the middle blocker’s mind enough that even ushijima noticed his change in demeanor.

“what’s up with him?” the captain asked semi as they watched the redhead stumble into the gym.

“i think it’s about (y/l/n),” he answers in a hushed voice in case the disorganized tendou somehow heard. “he’s been in love with her since first year and seeing the poster of him is finally forcing him to make a move.”

ushijima refrained from chuckling, “so all it took was a poster with him as the center instead of me?”

“yeah, pretty much.” says semi.

tendou had been non-stop running back and forth between his classroom, the gym, and the art room after that burst of serendipitous ideas clouded his brain until it was all he could focus on. he had already missed the beginning of practice just so he could do something special for you for when he does muster up the courage to confess.

it was something along the lines of returning the favor of what you did to him, but he was well aware of the fact that he was a volleyball player for a reason and not an artist. honestly, most of the work was done with the help of you friend from the art club to which she basically did the drawing and tendou just colored it in. however he liked to think that it was the thought that counted, either way.

“sorry i’m late,” the missing middle blocker finally appeared. he was trying to catch his breathe as he rested his arms upon his bent knees. perhaps he quite disliked how gigantic the shiratorizawa campus was when it came to this. “i had to take care of something.”

ushijima gave semi an amused look before hardening his gaze on tendou, he tried not to laugh as he cleared his throat to hide that fact. “what’s more important than volleyball practice?” perhaps in the ace’s rarity, he was in the mood to tease the guy. “a girl?”

and immediately, the look on tendou’s face—of complete and utter fear that his captain would potentially punish him with extra conditioning was going to be the death of him—was instead replaced with chuckles him ushijima and semi.

“i’ll leave you off the hook as this was your first time missing a practice, not to mention you missed it for a girl you’ve liked for three years now.” said ushijima surprisingly out of character, than even he found himself shocked by saying it. “but if you miss another practice for (y/l/n), you’ll have extra conditioning everyday before and after school.”

tendou nods rapidly, “yessir!”

the rest of the day was filled with the sound of firm volleyballs being hit and slapped across the gym before falling to the floors with a coupled thud.

and despite trying his very hardest to focus his mind upon the practice game, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander to you in your bright enormity. his mind was on you, and yet he was playing the game harder than ever with each and every block he endured. perhaps it was the nerves, the aching adrenaline that flowed through his veins at the mere thought of confessing to you by the time practice ended fueled his fire.

even if this was just a practice game against his own teammates, he was going to win for you and leave the gym with a confident aura enough to give him the guts to walk up to you.

the thing is, the game had already ended before he knew it. his side of the court had won and reached 25 points before he could even blink with the fact that he was in a ready stance even after the whistle had been blown.

“tendou,” ushijima called out to the redhead. “good luck.”

with that, the middle blocker’s head had cleared as he gave a smile to the setter. he walked over his bag, snatching it up and over his shoulder as he grabbed the rolled up poster within his clammy hands.

god, i’m was nervous. he thought to himself as he walked out of that gym.

the loud, boisterous guffaws from the rest of his teammates faded and echoed into oblivion as he walked the opposite way from everyone else. as the rest were going home, it was him who was on his was to your classroom. he had heard from your friend that you had cleaning duties today after school and it was the perfect time to just swallow his pride and just say.

but his actions were definitely faster than his thoughts as he had impulsively slammed the classroom door open without thinking.

you had thrown a shocked glance at the redhead at the sudden harsh action as he had thrown an embarrassed smile at you. chuckling at that adorable look on his face, you quickly set you mop aside. “tendou? what are you doing here? is your practice over already?”

the redhead nods, “yeah, just a couple minutes ago—um, i-uh just wanted to uh—”

he sighed frustratingly. this was the first time that the tendou satori—the third year infamously known for his innate way of speaking to others in such bright confidence for once, had his tongue tied. the reason why was obvious. it was because of you and your beaming eyes and that godforsaken smile of yours that made him go utterly crazy.

he was still trying to find the right words to say when your gaze fell upon the rolled up poster within his shaking hands. “what’s this?” you asked innocently as your hand reached for the poster and took it out of his hands without much force.

“w-wait! that’s—!”

you unrolled the poster, honey glazed your irises as your mouth gaped slightly.

it was you. a painting of you sitting under one of the large trees on one of the campus’s courtyards, sketching who knows what along with tendou’s large handwriting sprayed at the top:

WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME, (Y/N)?

you breath was snatched out of your throat as you flickered your widened eyes up to him. red and pink hues adored tendou’s cheeks and ears, scratching the back of his head as his chestnut eyes refused to meet yours. if he were to look at you then and there, he would immediately melt into a puddle of blossoming cherries.

“did you make this for me?” you asked gently, still absolutely moonstruck at the poster. it was a simple painting that was definitely not drawn entirely by tendou as you could tell your friend had something to do with it, but you couldn’t help but be absolutely astonished that he even went out his way for this. “i love it,” you whispered, capturing tendou’s attention.

“y-you do?” the redhead huffs in disbelief.

tendou was closer to you, more than you were comfortable with, but you didn’t fight it off. you didn’t bother giving a little space between you two. “i was serious when i always thought you were cool. you were the only one out of that group of popular kids to talk to me and was actually nice about it.” you suddenly professed. your consciousness mentally slapped you over and over again from the embarrassment of saying such a thing. and yet, the signal in her mind didn’t releasse itself until the moment you felt your eyes fall upon tendou’s chamomile lips. and to your peachy ones, did tendou even dare to think of the impossible, of the serenity that filled them under your blushing cheeks,

“i really like you, (y/n)... and i have for a while now.” he muttered.

you bit your lip at the sudden downpour of feelings that you didn’t even notice yourself clutching and perhaps accidentally crumpling the poster he made. “me too,” you said in a mere whisper, your gaze flickering back down to the floor. “and to answer your question... yes, i will go out with you, tendou.”

the redhead felt his breath hitch in his throat, pausing with his eyes almost wide and doe-like when he looked at you underneath the last rays of the setting sun. he let’s out a bright chuckle, “cool.” he attempted to act casually only to break the moment he found your embrace.

you gently laughed as it muffled within his chest, “cool.” you repeated.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #tendou satori #tendou x reader #tendou fluff #tendou imagine #tendou oneshot

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sushiandstarlight · 5 years ago

Note

For a prompt, what about the first time Crowley found out Azraphaile could sense love?

You Will Still Love Me Tomorrow

Read this story on AO3

Aziraphale had dropped his hand as soon as the bus stopped. Crowley was pointedly not thinking about it. He didn’t think about it as they took the short walk up to his flat, the not holding hands anymore. He didn’t think about it as he unlocked his door with a flick of his wrist and invited the angel into his home. He didn’t think about it as he sauntered past what remained of Ligur, hoping that Aziraphale would ignore the foul puddle, too.

Crowley did such a good job ignoring the fact that they weren’t holding hands anymore that it didn’t even register that Aziraphale hadn’t followed him into the kitchen until he turned around and took visual notice. He pressed his lips together at the absence, but continued to his goal anyway: unstoppering a bottle of dark red wine and pouring two glasses. He took a deep breath and carried the glasses as he retraced his steps.

He told himself that having the angel out of his sight was fine. They hadn’t always been together before. Long periods of time passed without catching sight of one another. It shouldn’t be any different now. But, his heart refused to listen to his brain, instead thrumming away against his ribs. They’d scarcely made it this far and tonight might be the last night to drink and talk into the wee hours. He told himself that it didn’t matter, but he knew that every moment of it mattered.

He found Aziraphale amongst his plants in the atrium, though the angel’s eyes were somewhere else. Crowley understood; he’d had a home once, too, and it had been ripped away from him without his permission. His heart beat harder in his chest as he contemplated what he had lost in his Fall. But, also, what he had gained. It was worth it, every bit of the pain was worth it. The torment from hell’s other inhabitants was worth it. All to be here, even up to this moment, side-by-side with his best friend.

“Wine?” He held one of the glasses out between them and watched as the one quiet word startled Aziraphale out of his thoughts.

“Oh, yes, thank you.” They both took a deep gulp of wine and didn’t look at one another, examining the plants instead.

“You know...” Aziraphale started, that far away look returning to his eyes even as he looked like he was studying the perfection of the ficus in front of him, “I always thought that maybe they were better at hiding their feelings than I was.”

“They?”

“My fellow angels.”

“Hmm.” Crowley took another hearty sip, eyes darting from the wine in his glass to Aziraphale and back.

“Before your fall... Oh, is it alright to ask?”

“Sure, angel. It’s old news.”

“I know it’s not. But, I’m afraid I’m too curious not to ask.”

“Never one to dissuade curiosity.” Yet, inside he trembled a bit. Possibly their last night and Aziraphale wanted to know about his fall? Or before. He’d said before. Crowley steeled himself. If this was going to be their last night, their last chat over wine... Then he would be as open and honest as he could. Whatever the angel wanted. Not that that... was much different than usual, even he could acknowledge that.

“Could you feel love when you were an angel?”

“Nah,” Crowley rubbed at his chin, “can’t say that was ever really one of my talents. Creation, that was my bag. Pulling things from the ether. Real magic.” There was something pinging around in the back of his brain: a softly sounding siren of warning. A thought forming, but from far away.

“I always thought that perhaps all the angels I consorted with were better at concealing the love they felt. I never really understood why, you know? There’s no need to hide your heart in heaven. It should be safe there.”

Crowley made an inarticulate noise, unsure how to answer that.

“The truth is, though, that they didn’t love me. I’m not sure they loved each other, either. Dare I say, they might not even have loved Her.”

“Likely,” Crowley sighed, drawing closer almost unconsciously, “likely, they only really knew love for themselves and their positions.” The siren was getting louder, the thought forming but still just out of reach.

“If that.” Aziraphale swirled the wine in his glass, “But you, you’ve never hidden it.”

“Hidden what?” The siren in his head was nearly deafening now, the other shoe poised to drop.

“Your love. You’ve never hidden it from me.”

“Ngk?” Crowley’s fingers went numb as the thought finally coalesced: all this time he thought his feelings had been trapped in his own chest, his own heart, but was it possible... that they had all been laid out at the angel’s feet all this time? He nearly dropped the wineglass, only thinking to clench it at the last possible moment. Even so, some wine splashed over the rim.

“On the wall, overlooking Eden, I told you that I had given away my God-given flaming sword. And you loved me for it. You hardly knew me.”

“Well, I-” Crowley choked on his own tongue.

“I tried to put it aside, you know. Demons can’t love, they say. But, I would run into you again and again and again and it would be there every time.”

Crowley set his wineglass down by the plants. He wasn’t sure if he was going to cry or pass out, but neither supported his desire to keep a cool demeanor.

“Your love was always there, bright like any star in the cosmos and warmer than the hearth of home.”

He was definitely getting light-headed. He sat down on the ledge by the ficus before he lost all dignity and collapsed. Aziraphale still wasn’t looking at him, despite his continued venture into transparency.

“I daresay, you’ve been more of a loving home to me than heaven ever was.” And now Aziraphale was looking at him, earnest eyes shining.

Crowley removed his sunglasses and tucked them into the collar of his shirt, meeting Aziraphale’s eyes purposefully because words had utterly failed him.

“I am sorry, dear, that I’ve needed to push you away so many times. I know,” Aziraphale swallowed hard, “I know I have a lot to make up for as far as that’s concerned. But, more than that, I’m sorry that you can’t feel how very much I want to be your home, too.”

“You are,” Crowley croaked, unable to hold himself back any longer he reached out his hand and Aziraphale took it in both of his. Those soft, warm angel hands. His world stopped spinning sideways, righting itself as the touch grounded him, “you are my home. Six thousand years, you’ve been my home. Maybe... maybe before that. I just didn’t know what was missing.”

“All the same, I wish you could feel it like I do from you. You don’t know, darling. It’s like basking in the gentlest sunshine. Early morning, with all it’s colors and all it’s quiet. I don’t sleep, but I imagine it feels like waking to a new day.”

Crowley tugged at his hands, pulling him close enough to hug him around the middle. He peered up at the angel, making sure this was okay. It was a sight more than holding hands. Aziraphale moved even closer. Crowley rested his head against the soft belly in front of him.

“I suppose I could just tell you.”

Crowley squeezed him, again finding himself out of words.

“I love you, Crowley.” Aziraphale’s fingers had found their way into the soft hair at the back of his head. Crowley couldn’t breathe and he was, once again, unsure if he was going to start crying, “I love you and I believe in our side- yours and mine. This will not be our last night together.”

Crowley sucked in a deep breath, holding the angel closer. He’d said all of that in a way that rumbled and glistened somehow with Truth. The Truth of an Angel, sent by God Herself. He wanted to believe in it. He would believe it. He didn’t believe in God, outside her existence. He didn’t believe in Heaven’s angels with their thirst for power and control. He didn’t believe in Hell, that place could continue to rot. But, Aziraphale. He believed in Aziraphale. Regardless of whether or not he could feel the love he claimed. He just knew. His belief in this didn’t need tangible proof, it was written between the lines of six thousand years.

“I expect,” Aziraphale’s hand traveled down his jaw and tilted it so they could meet eyes again, “to feel all of this from you tomorrow. And all the days after. Can you promise me that?”

“I promise you, Angel. We’ll come up with something.”

#aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #star light-reads #fic pompts #thank you so much for the prompt!#this one totally gained a life of it's own and got away with me #which is so much fun :)#as always I'm open to any prompts sent my way #it's nice to have a springboard for writing!#mintymallo

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ladymoonveil · 4 years ago

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Thoughts on Zack Snyder’s Justice League

If the original JL was a 3/10, this one is closer to a 6/10. It's definitely an improvement given the fact that it has twice the running time to flesh out various characters and scenes. Unfortunately, this movie still doesn't make me excited to see more of the Snyderverse, and I'm kind of glad that DC is starting to go in a different direction with their cinematic stuff. Some additional thoughts below:

The Good

There are some really gorgeous shots in this movie when the slo-mo is aptly used. A standout scene for me is the football match in the falling snow; from a visual perspective it looked fantastic.

Cyborg got a lot more backstory compared to the original JL, and so did the Flash and Aquaman to a lesser extent. This time around I was more interested in Cyborg, so the additional time taken to develop his character paid off well.

Overall, the plot is also a lot more cohesive. For the most part, I understood why the characters acted in certain ways, and the story flowed better from scene to scene.

Despite the fact that this movie is 4+ hours long, it didn't feel like a drag. I think breaking it up into chapters was a smart decision, and the pacing was fine.

Steppenwolf looks much better in Snyder's version. I really like the way they animated his armour.

There are some neat fight scenes, and all the characters got their chance to shine at least once.

The Bad

The slo-mo in this movie is like 300 on crack. It's so excessive that even the moments that really benefit from this effect became less special because you see it so often.

I particularly disliked the scene where the Flash saved the girl from the car accident. It felt like a worse version of the Quicksilver scenes, and him brushing back the girl's hair instead of just saving her right away is kind of creepy.

I also did not understand why Wonder Woman used her gauntlets to blow out part of that building instead of just incapacitating the guy with the gun. She's obviously fast enough to do it, and she didn't have to put anyone else outside the building in danger of falling debris or give the impression that a bomb went off. Just felt incredibly out of character.

There is no reason for the Martian Manhunter to be in this movie. The fact that the discussion between Martha and Lois was actually a discussion between MM and Lois really cheapened that entire scene for me. Martha and Lois have barely anything to do in this movie, why didn't Snyder let the real Martha have a heart to heart with Lois about the death of someone that they both loved dearly? Instead, he turned it into a cheap cameo that ruined the emotional impact between the two characters

Although new characters like Cyborg had some additional screen time to flesh out their backstories, we should have gotten more. For example, they brought up the huge revelation of Cyborg having control over all the nukes in the world, but then completely glossed over how that works. Does he need to be in proximity to the nukes? Can he "accidentally" fire off the nukes if he has a nightmare or something? Does he even have nightmares anymore? Cyborg deserves to have his own solo film instead of just being thrown into JL.

Overall, the palette of this film is quite dark and dreary. The most obvious is when you compare Mera's hair to how it looks in Aquaman. Even the scene of Clark standing in the field with the sun shining down felt less vibrant than it should have been because of the muted colours.

I'm okay with the whole "motherboxes were sleeping until Superman died" thing, but Darkseid just...forgot where he left the motherboxes and anti-life equation?? What???

The Ugly

Although this cut was better overall, the major failing of JL (and the DCEU in general) is still very clear. They rushed to get their Avengers equivalent ensemble film but forgot to establish the building blocks first. This movie basically introduced Aquaman, Flash, Cyborg, and the Martian Manhunter. That's four new superheroes in a film already dealing with the return of Superman plotline. Even with the extended running time, this is a terrible idea that does not translate well to a movie franchise, even if it might work in the comic format. (I honestly forgot that the Aquaman solo movie came after JL. The order in which they released these DC films is all over the place.)

To be honest, I still think that it was a bad idea to give Snyder Superman. All the characters in these films keep talking about him as a beacon of hope and a source of inspiration, but I never really felt it. Snyder's Superman is hyper-focused on Lois Lane, but doesn't seem to care much about humanity in general. I'm wracking my brain but I can't remember any instances of genuine joy or compassion from this version of the character. I just don't think that Snyder is capable of writing a good Superman story without turning him evil or killing him. (I'm still salty that Snyder had the Kents suggest to Clark that maybe he should hide his powers instead of using them to help people, and that Clark watched his dad die in the hurricane instead of saving him. I much prefer the comics where Jonathan Kent died due to a heart attack, since that was a perfect way of humanizing Superman. No matter how powerful he is, when it came to the unexpected death of his father in this manner, he was just as vulnerable and helpless as the rest of us.) I guess I have a soft spot for the boy scout characters, and Marvel did a much better job at bringing Steve Rogers to life while keeping him true to his character. Somehow they made me care more about Captain America than Superman in the cinematic universe, even though Superman is probably my favourite superhero. I honestly think a lot of the fault lies with Snyder's portrayal of the character on the big screen.

It looks like Snyder's original plan is to build towards something like Injustice (which doesn't surprise me at all). However, because his Superman is already toeing the edge of darkness, I don't think it will have nearly as much impact/contrast if he does turn evil.

Final Thoughts

This new cut of Justice League is worth watching if you are 1) a fan of the characters, 2) a fan of the genre, and 3) a fan of Snyder's directorial style. If you don't fit into any of the categories above, you can skip this and spend four hours watching something else instead.

Maybe the biggest issue for me is that he never got me invested in his version of the characters. I waited for years to see Superman and Batman together on the big screen. World's Finest are some of my favourite comics to read. What I got instead was the absolute dumpster fire that was BvS, where Bruce acted like a murderous psychopath, Clark was emotionally detached from the world, and their fight was resolved because "Martha". While it's true that his cut of JL is better than BvS, it still wasn't enough to redeem the DCEU IMO.

To leave things on a more positive note, if you're as tired of the evil Superman/dead Superman/brooding Superman storylines as I am, might I recommend Jeff Loveness' works? He's one of my favourite Superman writers, and when I read his stuff I always get that injection of hope that Superman is meant to inspire. Two of my favourites are "Help" (where Lex Luthor is assisted by a regular civilian when his car breaks down), and "Glasses" (where we see Superman through Lois Lane's eyes). You can also find the scans of these stories on Tumblr if you look around.

My favourite line about Superman from Loveness' comics is, "He could be anyone...and he chooses to be kind."

I wish that we saw more of this Superman in the DCEU, because we could all use a little more kindness in our lives these days.

(And if you do prefer the darker stories, Loveness' entry for the Dark Multiverse: Death of Superman story is fantastic too.)

#Zack Snyder's Justice League #Justice League #Superman #spoilers #DCEU #my thoughts

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barbika1508 · 5 years ago

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Hiwaga (Vampire! Jeongguk x Reader)

Part 1

Words: 11,1 k

Genre: Soulmate AU, Reincarnation AU, Enemies to Lovers, Action, Romance, Smut

Pairing: Vampire! Jeongguk x Reader

Warnings: Brief mentions of smut, Cursing

Summary: Life was good, playing out better than it has been ever before. My future was bright and full of promises and wishes coming to realization. All up until she showed up. She stormed though the front doors ruining everything along the way by her mere presence derailing my goals and purpose in life. A puny mortal, a child, a complete nuisance, and yet…The key to an unimaginable life, to the truth all along.

Author's note: Hiwaga – mystery; full of wonder Words in italics are dialogues or thoughts that Jeongguk reads from others. So I’ve done research with this fic, and used certain words that need explanation…given that there can be A LOT I’ve put a dictionary just below the fic if anyone is interested :3

Jeongguk’s POV:

‘’Stop it.’’

I barely flinch at the hiss the presence that settles on my left expected, to which my glare remains unfaltering ‘’She’s just…infuriating.’’ I sigh quietly, trying to relax my clenched jaw but just settle right back into pressing my teeth tight together while my fingers curl into fists, annoyance brewing.

‘’Why is that?’’ the question has me rolling my eyes inside my head, as I shift onto my right foot and away from the broad-shouldered vampire, keeping my composure in case of anyone looking towards us.

‘’I don’t know, I just really, really don’t like her.’’ I grumble glaring at the girl that’s grinning widely showing of her blunt teeth advertising to everyone that she’s not like us. She’s literally making herself a bait, even though Yoongi hyung made sure she was doused in his scent not even an hour ago.

She’s chatting away with a middle-aged guy, his wife looking interested as she eyes the regular girl up and down her thoughts not promising anything good. Right now, I’m cursed having the abilities that I have, easily reading through the crowd of people that’s surrounding us. I hate big gatherings, or any gatherings for that matter. Its bothersome to keep my concentration up at all times, to prevent all the voices from flooding my mind. Well except for hers. Not hearing her thoughts, is one of the most infuriating things.

‘’We know that Jeongguk-ah. It’s been a well-known fact since the moment she stepped a foot past the front doors.’’ Jin hyung chuckles clearly amused by my brooding and misery, as I recall not even a month ago how she loudly shrieked a greeting, and then just ran up to Yoongi hyung. He offered her a SMILE! HE SMILED AT HER AND LET HER HUG HIM!!!

The scene as I remember it is still bizarre and sort of unrealistic. How easily everyone accepted her, even though she isn’t of our kin. We’ve turned away, orphaned fairies, witches and even shapeshifting dragons which could have given us great amounts in the power dynamic. And yet there’s Y/N. Ugh even her name has me rolling my shoulder back, as my nose briefly scrunches, Jin hyungs hand landing on my shoulder reminds me that I need to keep a calmer attitude. Glancing over to him he’s completely amused as he looks at me.

‘’You are stewing in your anger without a real purpose youngling.’’ He teases the nickname a pain in the ass ‘’Relax, Jeonggukie.’’ He leans in closer still smirking but looks me directly in the eyes hovering up close There’s plenty of girls here. Some with royal statues or skills you can only ever imagine of. he wiggles his eyebrows at me suggestively. This time around I do roll my eyes for him to see, shaking my shoulders and him off as he ends up giggling not taking offense in my behaviour.

In a regular setting or just a regular gathering as this one is, I wouldn’t miss any single opportunity to tease him, or make fun of him blatantly but given the new guests I’m not in the mood whatso ever.

I do look at the wives, girlfriends, mistresses of our guests that fill our spacious ballroom besides the variation of men, that had me tune out their thoughts the moment the first 5 arrived. And granted they are all gorgeous, youthful, pale complexion mostly with vibrant eyes full of life, and deadly fangs poking from their lips proudly. My jaw unclenches, while I raise my chin up in interest once a blonde girl, walks past us quite a distance but I don’t miss how she flutters her eyes towards me, keeping on a shy smile which is a pretence but the visual has my attention. Her long blonde hair is cascading down over her exposed shoulder the ends curled up meticulously. Her front is a bit on the flatter side, figure smooth and flawless as the red wine dress that’s running and falling down her body like an endless seem of water while a thin vail that covers it, sparkles in the lights at times making her look more out of this world.

I raise an eyebrow in curiosity ready to start this game of chase. Watching intently, she offers a wider smirk steps slowing down, when suddenly she disappears from my view thanks to the group of chattering vampires ahead of us. Looking left and right she doesn’t pop up. Interesting.

‘’That’s it Jeongguk-ah. Our fearless maknae on the prowl.’’ Jin pats me over my back smirking his words making me smile but from half embarrassment and half amusement ‘’You know I’ve picked up on certain gossip that’s been floating around.’’ The implication has me turning to my older hyung fully in curiosity.

‘’Do spill thou secrets, dearest hyung.’’ another voice replies, Taehyung joining the two of us smirking knowingly. He probably knows where this is going, being the coven’s expert gossiper and a professional drama queen so to speak. He knows the ins and outs of the vampire world, dipping his toes into the werewolf pack’s and mere-folk communities as of lately. I simply slide my hands into the pockets of the black suit creased trousers I have on. I paired my outfit with a black long-sleeved saint Laurens shirt, and over it I’ve gone with a white suit jacket with golden detailing on it.

Jin hyung has gone more with a professional (regal) look, wearing a midnight black 5-piece suit, with the difference in the dress shirt which is a darker purple colour. The tie he has one, is more visibly purple adorned in small golden accessories that state which clan he belongs to by the logo being pined near the knot. He’s not only displaying regal colours but also the wealth, the rank and honour that was given to him, when he reached a milestone in his old age which not many vampires do anymore. The status and extra titles are appointed according to age and actions and Jin hyung has made it pretty high on both of those simple to-do lists as I’d like to call them.

Taehyung on the other hand is like me dressed in all black, going with a matching 2-piece suit lacking the suit jacket which leaves him in a more of a blouse type of dress shirt that has white squares doted randomly across. He has tucked the shirt into the slightly high waisted trousers, which makes shapes up his figure to the tens.

He quirks an eyebrow as he smiles mischievous standing on Jin hyungs left, giving me a knowing look.

‘’Rumour has it, amongst our lovely ladies mainly but in a wider circle nonetheless…’’

‘’Meaning everyone, yes hyung.’’ Taehyung pips in encouragingly licking his lips as he points his stare at the elder. I quickly shush him smirking as I glance between the two Taehyung grinning while Jin shakes his head but remains humoured.

‘’…it is said, that after a night with our Jeonggukie here, even as a vampire you’ll be having problems walking the next day.’’ His eyes are fixated on me gauging my reaction while I meet Taehyung’s gaze just knowing exactly what he normally would say. I don’t even have to read his mind to know.

But he loudly snorts instead ‘’You’ve left out the juicy part of the rumours hyung.’’ I lift my chin up again but look away from the two trying to see and detect if anyone is listening into our conversation. There’s a group of vampires that is standing close to us. Some have picked up on our talk but they are occupied discussing something else that has their complete attention, two women snickering to themselves quietly ‘’Our Jeonggukie even though is the cutest and the most innocent looking as a cherub doesn’t cuddle. Or kiss after he’s done fucking your brains out. How about that?’’

Turning back to the two, the elder gives me a disapproving look meanwhile Taehyung is strictly mirthful clearly finding this amusing ‘’I’m not looking for love. It’s simply an exchange of pleasantries and then it’s back to regularities.’’ I shrug turning away as the dark-haired vampire coos, chuckling while Jin hyung who has dyed his hair into a faint purple colour tsks.

‘’Oiii we didn’t raise you like that young man.’’ He chides while my eyes finding the blonde once more. Her gaze is already on me, clearly taking me in up and down shamelessly ogling me. To keep this interesting I refrain from reading into her mind, and offer a smirk back, taking her in as well. She’s joined into a conversation which she barely participates once our gazes interlock ‘’Yahhhh don’t ignore us! Don’t prove those rumours right!!!’’

‘’Let him be hyung.’’ Taehyung defends me, chuckling ‘’He’ll learn eventually, after getting punched into the balls enough times.’’

That has me quirking both eyebrows in question as I turn to the black haired male, his hair having grown out making him look all the more attractive in the period of a few months since he let it grow ‘’Have you learned that from experience hyung?’’ now I’m the one amused at the implication. But the mischief simply rolls of him.

‘’it’s a possibility.’’ He challenges back ‘’But it’s also well known what a gentleman I am first and foremost.’’ he wiggles his eyebrows, right hand rising up fingers wiggling, the suggestion obvious which has Jin let out a dry laugh.

‘’You younglings are just so cocky.’’ The elder condemns crossing his arms.

‘’Ah hyung I’m sure you were the same as we were at one point in your long and richly filled life.’’ Taehyung half sings stepping closer to the taller male, that simply smirks, his gaze now trained forward onto someone ignoring the antics of the younger vampire who cuddles up to him. I mimic our hyung turning forward in search of the blonde again, that once more has disappeared. Damn.

‘’I’m not telling you animals anything. You’d only take it as a challenge. And then I’ll just have more work to do cleaning after you.’’ Jin ends up grumbling the bickering going on put to the back of my mind.

With the wine-red colour in mind, I scan the growing crowd finding 4 more girls with a similar dress offering gleeful smiles, and even winks in return. Even though they look nice, I can’t help but to want to find the blonde. She had this quirky smile to her, and the fact that she put on an innocent face has me guessing she’s into something kinkier than she’d led onto.

Just as I’m about to head forward and find her by myself my intentions gets stopped.

‘’Oh, waw would you look at that.’’ Only now I notice that my two brothers have fallen silent, and are both staring ahead at something at the same time. Glancing at the two, Jin is amused while Tae’s expression is sort of blank. I follow their line of sight, finding an odd pair near middle of the room conversing. My blood runs cold at the sight. The 4 men that surround them are obviously body guards, the notion simply a sign of his power whilst is completely useless.

I sigh through my nose as other’s thoughts fill my mind, the curiosity and excitement and want for bloodshed rising in each and every vampire in the room.

The vampire that’s in the middle of the 4 man is Wangseja. Nobody actually knows his real name, as far as I know and have been told it’s been centuries so everyone just addresses him by his title. He is a descendant of the royal family, and has been meant to inherit the throne in his human life time. But obviously as he’s still here, breathing and undead something must have happened for him to have has to stray away from the human world and path of life.

He is not the only vampire that’s considered being one of the oldest here. There are a few more in this very room, one being our Yoongi hyung, and Jin following just close behind, after 3 others.

The 8 gifted with the title ‘elders’ are considered being in charge, with everything that’s regarding our vampire community and largely covens as they’ve tried to portray it as if we’re families. Which we aren’t. Coven wars still happen most often than some would like, and not enough to others.

Back to the former crown prince, he’s wearing a Gonryongpo which translates to Dragon Robe. He has the famous yellow dragon woven over his back which simply makes me assume that even though he puts on a friendly face and demander he’s a cocky asshole. He must be. Those clothes are generalized as robes that government officials and royalty wore but it’s well known that they were mainly emperors clothing. A bit pompous if you ask me.

Of course, the other 8 elders are dressed similarly to him, but in comparison they are dressed in downgraded versions.

His colours are the ones of red and to my misfortune of not being able to make fun of him later he isn’t wearing the traditional hat along his attire. He is however strapped with a Samjeongdo at his side. Again, it's all telling me he's a prick. I don’t even have to peek into his mind to see him as a sheep in wolfs clothing. A dangerous sheep with incredible power nonetheless. My nose scrunches up as his laughter can be heard all the way here, the ballroom having gotten quieter, everyone’s attention and ears focused in on the conversation at hand, the odd pair presenting curiosity amidst my kin. I bet the next gossip is going to revolve solemnly onto what’s happening right now. Ugh, great.

The girl that’s standing before him sports a bright smile unbothered by the many eyes that are fixated on her, taking in every error that’s marked over her skin, every imperfection that lies over her features and hair that even though has been styled looks messy to me.

She stands out from everyone else, simply by the colour choice of her dress which happens to be a soft lilac that edges on white, and grey. Ridiculous!

The ladies in the room, are for the most part dressed in designer clothing, with jewels, glitters, and modern sewing, styled to perfection which is an overused word, but that’s just what vampires tend to do. Dress to impress, every detail smoothened and detailed 100%.

Her dress is draped from her waist down pooling shily around her feet, her neckline all but shy as the V-neck is deep showing of her collarbones and extra skin, the odd scar littered here and there ruining her darker completion, pale not being in her vocabulary. Her fingers are adorned with golden rings, same goes for her ears where golden earrings dangle in the bright lighting of the chandeliers. More gold has ben simply strewn over the mess of her hair, the style which is supposed to be elegant has had my head shaking even before.

The cuff on her bicep even though displays her prominent muscular and athletic figure highlighting her arms is unnecessary, as is the leaf belt around her waist that makes her hips look wider. I’m sure there’s plenty of men lusting after her plump figure alone. I bet her flesh is soft, and easy to hold onto, the covered-up skin probably littered with more scars that seem to litter her every inch of her body. Unlike most people she shamelessly displays them.

What irks me, and leaves me in complete puzzlement is the sword that’s strapped to her hip. I’ve been told she’s a swordswoman, and that she has had the training of it as I’ve stumbled upon her and Yoongi hyung sparing one day randomly in the gym. The space is big and can have a boxing ring in it if we wish to, other activities such as practicing martial arts, and archery enabled by its spaciousness.

The already what looks like an exaggerated grin grows wider her animated looking speech bothersome. Her right hand is the one to move around fingers twitching, constantly touching the handle of her sword, awkwardly almost while her left hand is preoccupied with holding a glass that contains alcohol in it the content unknown to me. She’s the only one with a drink in hand making her even more obvious that she doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t belong with us.

And yet the prince seems to eat her right up with his eyes alone. He’s completely entranced by her. I don’t understand one bit as to why - she’s full of imperfections like I’ve said, the fact that she’s a foreigner isn’t the issue, but the word she chooses to say are at times very disrespectful as she doesn’t know better clearly her Korean obviously lacking while her mannerism are those of a child.

Still irked I tilt my head tongue darting over my teeth and cheek as I focus my gaze onto the man, the sound of my inner voice fading back, as the haze behind my eyes and fogginess that surround me starts to lift up. It would be way easier to close my eyes, but that would make it obvious that I’m trying to do something that I shouldn’t be doing.

As I blink a few times, I find myself in the prince’s shoes which are uncomfortable but he’s keeping that at the back of his mind. He notes how she’s so small and fragile looking compared to him, easily to take, steal away if it were the older times. Okay old man.

She’s just like a child! So excited and clumsy, its adorable. That sword on her hips must be a mere toy. Something to add sparkle and value to her in a sense. But the display of it does raise questions; Why did Min Yoongi let her wear that? And the style of it, very much so foreign to our own Geom’s and sword styles in Korea.

He probably dressed her up himself, given that she’s absolutely drenched in his bitter scent. Ugh mint. I’ve grown to absolutely hate it as it’s a reminder of him whenever the scent hits my nose. If it weren’t for him, I’d be king, and all these fools and idiots would have already been kissing my feet.

So why is he displaying her off like this? He has staked his claim, but hasn’t marked her. It must be a bribery? No Min wouldn’t stop so low he’s too prideful for that.

Look at her go, rising chuckles from my chest with almost ease which is sort of unusual how her humour seems to be in tune with my own. Even though she’s more than meets the eye, she’d be fun to play around with. Tie her down, or simply hold her as she’s useless against my strength...then use all her holes us, and drain her…fuck what would I give for a taste of her blood. Even though the mint covers her up, her own sweetness has started to seep through. She smells like the freshest batch of strawberries, mint ruining it into acidness. I want to ruin her…

A backhanded hit over the back of my head, brings me accidentally to another place in the Prince’s mind, seeing the image of the human girl being tied up inhumanely, and him fucking her. The scene has my stomach churning and if I was still human, I’d be throwing up right here and now. If my blood was ice cold before it quickly warms up, as that’s no way to threat any woman or man for the matter human or no. As I blink rapidly coming back to my own stiff body, I offer a glare towards the Prince one last time before turning to a fuming Seokjin hyung that’s glaring at me hand still holding onto the back of my neck, with an underlaying treat resting heavily between us.

‘’Are you fucking crazy?!’’ he hisses pupils starting to glow more prominently red as his anger rises. Only now I notice Yoongi hyung on my left, that’s neutrally staring at me clearly disappointed but there’s this sort of glimmer in his eye that I can’t exactly read ‘’Out of all the things we’ve told you not to do and you go straight ahead and spit in our faces?!?’’ his anger is basically radiating in waves from him, as he leans in closer to me to my neck, hand tightening forcing me to hold my head still.

Taehyung was quick to move and stand in line of sight trying to block out anyone from seeing what’s going on where we are near the balcony that has remained unusually unoccupied this evening.

‘’It was me.’’ Yoongi replies neutrally. It’s that sort of neutral that’s plainly terrifying as you cannot know what direction his emotions are swinging at. Even though he is my creator, my saviour and the one I’m closest to in our coven, he is after all a very old creature that with only a stare can make anyone cry and flee ‘’My order.’’ He adds eyes finding my own, voice easily filling my mind.

Is there anything you’d like to share with me? his face remains the same, whilst Seokjin lets go off me and steps away, angrily mumbling under his breath. With a glance towards Yoongi and a barely there nod Taehyung is scurrying away after Jin, meanwhile Hoseok hyung is quick to join us out of thin air it seems, settling himself on Yoongi’s right keeping an eye out.

Readjusting my clothes and posture I offer a glance towards the Prince and Y/N that’s down’s her glass and makes a goofy expression looking like she’s having the time of her life. Ignorant fool.

He wants to steal her. Literally. turning to the platinum blonde vampire he sighs heavily through his nose looking forward with his eyes narrowed.

What else?’

My lips tighten into thin lines the blonde woman from before coming into my line of sight. Shit. Cursing further I turn to the pair in the middle of the room again, watching as the prince daringly leans closer, the girl to my surprise dodging his touches, his hand now and then reaching out seemingly casual Her sword. I admit trying hard to push down the image of the two of them, and the way he wants to torture her for his own pleasure He hates your scent. But hers is starting to come out more which has him all the more curious and wanting.

Frowning as disgust raises again, I keep my eyes on the elder on my right, not missing the way his lips tug downwards. He looks displeased.

‘’Hoseok-ah.’’ With a single word and a look, Hoseok rushes away, disappearing as if he wasn’t even here in the first place. As I turn forward to look across the room ready to observe thoughts of certain vampires the blonde catches my eyes again. She’s standing much closer now but has been roped into another group of females that are clearly gossiping way to loud for their own good. Her eyebrows furrow as she looks at me as of saying ‘Help.’.

‘’Your punishment will be decided on tomorrow.’’ Yoongi speaks monotone getting my attention. I quickly lower my head down in understanding, hands pulling behind my back as I take a step behind him ‘’Even though you’ve earned a pass, your actions have earned Jin hyungs anger.’’ He spares me a glance but I don’t lift my head and gaze from my shoes, the leather polished so that it reflects the closes chandelier to us in them ‘’Taehyung-ah will take care of your position while you join Namjoon and Jimin.’’

Instantly I grind my teeth together, wanting to retort back a denial but know better than to go against him especially where anyone can hear and see us in a crowd like this.

‘’So much for waiting for tomorrow.’’ I grumble squaring my shoulders, picking up on soft patting of feet the person I want to burn in hell approaching us. Hyung doesn’t reply, just keeps looking ahead instead even though I know I rubbed him the wrong way with my comment. But he also knows how I detest her. It really is a cruel punishment as he’s putting her safety onto my shoulders. I hate this so much, ugh why me?!

I was supposed to be Yoongi’s hyung backup. I was supposed to start learning to be his left-hand man, as Hoseok is always there when he needs him. But no, she had to fuck it all up didn’t see? Just by coming here she fucked up years of progress I’ve made. Years of hard work to be the best, in all categories that hyung needs me to excel at.

‘’Hello gentlemen.’’ She cheers gleefully completely unaware of what’s happening. Looking up she spares a wide grin and proceeds to drink more of her newly refiled glass, a waiter following her around since the start.

‘’Aren’t you being a bit careless with the amount of alcohol intake?’’ Yoongi asks sounding soft and affectionate, as she smacks her lips which are coloured into a nice pinker shade, that complement the soft pastel tones of her makeup. So annoyingly human.

‘’Me careless never.’’ She snorts giggling ‘’I’d offer a toast but given your current lack of beverage, I’ll keep on trooping on for the both of us.’’

‘’How courageous of you.’’

Another puzzling matter is the amount of alcohol intake. I know humans drink, but isn’t this too much? It’s getting to a lethal point for her livers at this point ‘’Continuing on my legacy firmly.’’

My frown deepens as Yoongi chuckles half amused ‘’Did you enjoy your chat with your newest admirer?’’

At this I spare him a glance. His expression hardens but he isn’t giving anything off his expression and posture relaxed and well masking his real emotions while she on the other hand muses and obviously turns back toward the Prince, that’s already staring towards us, offering a smirk. She hums and turns back crossing her right arm over her front while she bends her left holding the glass up near her face the posture making her look ridiculous as she fake toasts, the Prince mimicking the gesture right back.

‘’Very much so, he’s quite charming.’’ She confirms her eyebrows jumping expression seemingly too happy for her to actually be normal. How can she be so cheerful and easy going? Again, with the animal references but she’s a lamb set right now in a den of lions, ready to be devoured. She’s acting so oblivious, she is oblivious idiotically so, her attitude and the way she’s acting want me to tear out my hair.

‘’Did he ask you about your heritage?’’ at this question I furrow my brows as I look at hyung in confusion. Why is he asking her that? For sure he has paid attention to every word they’ve exchanged like everyone else so why the unnecessarily of talking about this out loud??

‘’Yes.’’ She taps the handle of her sword visibly ‘’But he didn’t get the memo quite yet. He did compare me to a princess nonetheless. I should add that to my resume.’’ Her voice that’s this dreamy aspect to it. Another sip of the bubbly liquid she tilts her head to the side smirking at hyung. The next word she speaks I cannot even phantom to pronounce or repeat - it sounds almost like she is making a sound, which for a moment I assume she just burped or something, but Yoongi hyung nods curtly. Did she just speak in another language?

‘’Oh!’’ she states in wonder turning around as music starts to play louder now the hired coven that acts as a smaller performing orchestra coming to life with a lively tune. Couples are quick to line up in the middle of the room, ready to dance ‘’How wonderful.’’ she mumbles to herself continuing to sip on her drink. With her back to me, I’m drawn by the expanse of her back the dip of her dress reaching just where her kidneys are. Harsher looking scars litter her skin, which are confusing by all means. They are long and overlapping. That must have taken a long time to heal. It almost makes me flinch.

Yoongi’s silence gets my attention and a desperate wish to peek into his mind, to see what storm is brewing there.

‘’Remember that one time, when you asked me to dance on your own free will??’’ the girl wonders sounding reminiscent while the vampire moves to stand in front of her. I feel as if I’m intruding the moment, so given my new position I walk over to the side, to a giant column that’s keeping the heavy roof intact above us. I’m close enough to them to intercept anyone, and far enough to stop any danger. But instead of focusing on my surroundings I listening in onto the two.

‘’…you’re not getting that. Even if you drag me.’’ hyung finishes amused, standing closer to her. Way too close that’s necessarily, the proximity bothering me. She’s going to give him a bad rep and he’s just letting her. I am surprised I have to admit, about the lightness of their conversation having fully expected them to start talking between one another in the foreign tongue that nobody knows about, which they usually converse in.

‘’Aigo Yoongi-yaah! Stubborn as ever!’’ I close my eyes for a moment just breathing in an out, my mood sour-ing all the more. Even though I’ve told her myself many times, that when addressing your elders, you need to call them appropriately she still goes against it acting dumb and continues to call hyung in a belittling way.

I don’t understand why he doesn’t correct her! Why is he letting her act like that? If it were any of us, we’d be dismembered, missing a limb for a few years. (Not us necessary I’ve seen him cause pain to lesser vampires that were causing too much chaos in the human world)

‘’It’s just one dance.’’ She tries hand sneaking around his waist the contrast between her brighter colour and his darker blue shaded Gonryongpo is a huge contrast furthering on her difference from us.

‘’It’s been centuries since I’ve danced this waltz. Can’t even remember certain steps.’’ he entertains her further. Ever since she came, I’ve seen him smile more times than I have ever before I feel like. Whenever she’s around him, there’s always a somewhat smile on his face.

‘’I’ll lead, it’s not like I’d be the first time.’’ she whispers as they both chuckles.

‘’Running an imaginary headache there Jeongguk-ah?’’ I glance up towards Namjoon hyung who smiles at me clearly loving my suffering.

‘’You could say that.’’ Looking at the girl, she’s basically nuzzling into Yoongi’s side not minding the many curious looks others are giving her in passing. Or plainly staring at the pair. I try to relax my features understanding Namjoon’s subtle words, in correcting myself my concentration having gotten the better of me.

‘’It can’t be that bad.’’ He pats me over the back reassuringly, eyes darting towards our hyung and the girl that finishes her drink once more.

‘’How can she drink so much?’’ I find myself asking silently not wanting her to hear me ‘’She’s practically killing herself as we speak.’’ Looking up at Namjoon his eyebrows are furrowed as he silently nods. He’s the one that’s most fascinated with humans out of all of us, and has studied human medicine for a lifetime a decade ago. So, he must know better than me, that her eating and drinking habits are unhealthy ‘’Ugh.’’ I groan as she slips and starts conversing in another language, Yoongi seemingly easy to follow along a concentrated expression drawing itself on his face.

‘’Pretentious.’’ I grumble, while Namjoon looks absolutely fascinated ‘’Don’t.’’ I warn as he looks between them and me, gaze fleeting for a moment as he smiles.

‘’This must be…’’ he counts on his fingers but ends up pointing a 5 in his mind ‘’…language that she seems to be fluent in. That’s utterly fascinating.’’ I can see how the wheels are spinning in his mind, picking up on She must be a linguist, that’s why Yoongi called her for this gathering.

His thoughts sort of do make sense. My gut feeling tells me otherwise, doubt quick in questioning Namjoon’s logic for I think the first time in my life. Her being human doesn’t make any sense, for her to still be here.

‘’I’m sure you’d be a better choice for that.’’ I point out ‘’Or me for the matter.’’

He immediately tsks crossing his arms as he stands more on my side, looking at me incredulously ‘’Jeon Jeongguk are you jealous?’’ he asks my gaze getting captured by the blonde woman again, having reached only a few steps away, waving at me a moment later getting roped in chatting with a girl similar to her. Both of them glance towards me and end up giggling.

‘’Never of her.’’ my reply is instant as I turn to glare at hyung in anger, his demander sort of knowing and confident.

‘’Hm sure. Whatever you say maknae.’’ He teases but straightens up once Yoongi approaches us, glancing after Y/N that has sat on the couch behind us. She frowns once she’s down, but accepts another refill the waiter dutifully doing his job.

‘’The meeting is going to start soon.’’ Hyung starts which has us both straightening up, and at attention ‘’I want you with me, I still need to go greet the Jeju coven and given that they’ve taken a liking to you…’’ he trails off smirking both of them exchanging looks. I expect the seriousness that settles over hyungs features once he turns to me, his dark red eyes fixating on me the feeling of him reading into my soul present for a brief moment ‘’Keep an eye on her. And be nice.’’ the last part is a warning because he doesn’t even spare me another glance. He’s moving away with Namjoon hyung that’s getting his head in the game mind elsewhere. I’m sure he’ll come and talk to me later in the morning after all this ordeal is done. I can’t really chase the feeling away of being unwanted for a moment.

‘’Many thanks, truly but I will have to continue with politely declining your requests.’’ Her voice is easy to pick up on as I’m left almost alone with my brothers mingling everywhere around the room and nowhere in my sight.

Taking in a deep breath I turn around spotting at least 3 men offering their hands over to the human, that has a rosiness to her cheeks at their advances.

‘’Just one quick dance, m’lady.’’ One tries persistently making me scowl and approach them. They do look at me, one straightening up immediately while the two others scoff.

‘’The lady already politely declined you already. Don’t turn yourselves into gossip for others by getting rejected thrice more, gentlemen.’’ I point out standing on her left, making sure I’m acting as a shield. The men eye me one insinuating that he’s going to do something more in his mind. But he does take a step back nodding, the two following as they offer their greetings and start to walk away. As I watch them give me the stink eye, I don’t miss the blonde that keeps appearing in my eyesight. Again, she has that innocent expression on, but this time she tilts her head to the side a clear invitation to move elsewhere more private.

‘’Thank you for that.’’ Her more croaky voice pips up. I spare her a glance, as she slumps against the couch again, her sword laid improperly over the couch and her lap ‘’Yoongi-ah told me to be nice so…’’ she trails off quietly for the first time this evening looking exasperated. But only for a moment as her lips quirk up, as a pair passes us bowing down offering a greeting going along and away.

‘’Don’t mention it.’’ I mumble slipping my hands into my trousers again the itch on following the blonde kind of present, but I’ve fucked up enough this evening to keep still and do as I was told.

‘’So, are you having any fun?’’ again she addresses me, and I don’t really see the point in this small talk. Because it’s coming from her mainly. It sounds unfair and mean but I’m getting really tired of her.

‘’Sure.’’ I find myself replying stoically as I look around, returning a smile or nod here and there, spotting some of my friends that are strewn around in the crowd.

‘’You know…’’ she starts and pauses. For a moment I get an image that she’s choking silently which has me turning sideways to look at her. But she’s just sitting there a bit un-lady like her legs spread instead of folded which she does after my brief thought ‘’…if you want to go chase after the blonde you can. I’ll be fine on my own.’’ At this I raise an eyebrow in question startled that she actually noticed that ‘’She seemed nice. Even asked about you.’’ At this new information my eyes raise to the crowd, spotting her wine-red dress near the entrance of the balcony on my sharp right.

‘’You’ve talked to her?’’ I frown turning back to the human, her lipstick that has gotten smudged all the more irks me immediately. Must have rubbed of the glass too much. She should stop drinking.

‘’Uh huh.’’ she replies licking over her lips, my eyes darting onto her own finding her staring straight at me. They look so…normal. Her eyes. So plain so, boring. It’s the first time that I’m actually standing so close to her, and yes, I’ve once been a human myself this shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does – it intrigues me more – but her eyes seem beautifully normal. ‘’She approached me initially having figured I’m with you only after Hoseok addressed me casually.’’ To her boring explanation I offer her a curt nod and turn to the crowd while she takes another sip of her drink ‘’So you can go to her, I’m sure Jiminie or someone else will be here to replace you instantly. Yoongi-ah worries too much, he always has a plan B, C, D, E and so on in mind.’’

I faintly smile at the statement for the first time agreeing with her. Hyung is very organized and ready for anything, partially thanks to Namjoon, but I bet his experience shaped him into who he is today. As for her I’m not so sure. She’s acting way to reckless right now even more than she does when it’s just us. She almost broke one of Bernini statues that Yoongi hyung is very proud of, that’s located in his study. How she did that exactly as it weights tons don’t ask me, the screaming match they’ve gotten into has left us all wondering in confusion as to how and why.

Again, breaking limbs isn’t uncommon to teach younglings lessons, but his way of dealing with her was to after the screaming match as over - rolled his eyes at her and pushed her out taking her to get ice cream. ICE CREAM!!! A child is what she is!!! Even if her mortal age is above twenties, she acts as if she’s 9. Even children of 5 are more respectful than she is.

‘’Are you trying to get rid of me?’’ I find myself asking as she shifts behind me, nails tapping over the metal. I can hear how her heart beat is slightly rushed thanks to the alcohol, her breathing remaining steady.

‘’Hm, not at all.’’ she replies quietly. I can feel her eyes on me, and I refuse to look back at her keeping my eyesight ahead. The Prince comes in sight as he finishes the dance with one of the many mistresses her has, or concubine I’m not sure what title to use with anyone anymore ‘’You’re the realest one tonight to be honest.’’ I can hear her whisper to herself clearly taking another sip after. Glancing back, she picks herself up not faltering as I’d assume, she would. She steps forward standing next to me expression serious and for a moment calculating as she scans the room. Thanks to the high heels she has on, she actually stands taller next to me. Even without them she stands tall, at a sort of an average length – it isn’t enough to tease her for her height.

The heels add an edge to her ‘’Ugh I’m too sober for this.’’ She complains silently at the Prince that starts approaching us. Luckily enough he gets distracted by another lady that literally steps in front of him. Glancing at the human girl her smile falters, eyes meeting my own ‘’If it were up to me right now I’d be upstairs, settled in that gods-sent fluffy bed and would have a controller in my hand, just annihilating one person after another either in Overwatch or I don’t know. Maybe replay Last of us.’’ At this revelation I look her up and down whilst she greets the waiter with a grin who hands her a new glass instead.

So, she plays games huh. Wouldn’t peg her to be the type but what do I care. I’m sure I’d beat her with ease, she has nothing on me.

‘’And what would you do, if I was there right next to you?’’ comes a flirty remark from an orange haired Jimin hyung that offers Y/N a golden tube of lipstick that probably matches the one on her lips. Only now I notice upon taking a closer look how her lips despite the fade-ness in the middle, how plump they actually look. Bite-able.

‘’That depends.’’ Y/N remarks back accepting the lipstick and small mirror handing him her glass, which he takes a sniff of ‘’Where would you exactly be? Next to me? Behind me?’’

I roll my eyes at her poor attempt of flirtation scrunching my nose up ‘’Why under you of course.’’ Ghhhhhhh.

She simply muses for a moment in silence, probably giving him a flirtatious smirk or something, which is a grimace I bet. With the corner of my eye I half watch as she opens up the lipstick ‘’Hm interesting proposition. Unrealistic but courageous in attempt. You think you could handle me?’’

I want to facepalm so hard it’s not even funny. Jimin the bastard he is giggles like a little girl almost, watching her intently, whilst I spot the blonde again talking with another guy, that’s clearly showing interest into her. Fuck.

‘’Oh, little mortal there’s not that much to handle from what I can see. I think I’ll take my chances without a second thought.’’ He shamelessly ogles her.

‘’Are you willing to bet on that then, Jiminie? Stick to your words?’’ she dares back. I spare him a glance surprised at seeing him faltering. Her head is angled in a way where I can’t see her expression, but I can see that she isn’t necessarily smiling. Huh.

He visibly gulps ‘’You’re trying to raise the stakes, aren’t you?’’ he muses confidence having faltered, so he settles for a cute approach smiling exaggeratively for a moment ‘’All or nothing, huh darling?’’ he’s putting out all his cards, posses, smiles, and the looks he gives her. And yet I know for sure somehow that she has him hocked around her finger. All done with a single look nonetheless. Not a lot of creatures let alone humans can get to him and here she just did. He is a touch but to crack so to speak.

‘’All or nothing.’’ she repeats recapping the lipstick and is quick to hand both items back to the pink haired man, accepting her drink back ‘’From what I just saw I’ll choose the latter, kitten.’’ The remark has me rising an eyebrow power balance shifting. Knowing very well that Jimin is a switch and that it sometimes takes him only a word or a motion to render him putty this is highly amusing and interesting indeed. And I think judging by the silence, she broke him sort of. Glancing towards him yeah if he was human, he’d be blushing all over, the puppy eyes telling me everything I need to know.

‘’Let’s get this show on the road boys.’’ she comments off handed. I miss completely as people start to gather around the middle and end up clapping, the orchestra being thanked for the wonderful tunes, a speech from the Prince ensuing. All the while I stare as Y/N down’s her drink, and gulps it like its water. Getting a whiff, I’m seriously questioning her will for life. That’s the scent of strong clean, vodka with a hint of peach in it.

She smacks her lips again and turns to me ‘’Do I look okay?’’ she asks the question completely flabbergasting me. But I do automatically take her in, head to toe. Her dress is still in place not even wrinkled. And this close up, I can see more scars which don’t deter me away anymore. The gold on her fingers, the rings add elegance to the look more completing it, and the earrings are a cheery on top not glinting much under the lighting up close. Her hairstyle the messiness I understand it, and same goes for the gentle touch on her makeup.

Looking at her lips they look perfectly drawn and arched. I dumbly nod instead, taking a glance at her sword. The blade being a kopis, has the handle curved the detailing on the grip is shaped as a pouncing lion the underside of the guard has a winged horse on each side the wings sort of creating the handle . This is the heritage they’ve talked about as the blade is traditionally Greek. She’s turning away faster than I can assess her weapon further more. I watch as she puts on a smile, letting out a heavy breath and hands of her glass to the waiter that’s ready to refill her glass.

She offers him a silent thank you, and then steps forward. It takes me a nudge from Jimin to register that I should follow after her. So, keeping up a distance but remain relatively close I mingle into the crowd keeping her at the corner of my eye at all times noticing the way the draping of her dress elegantly seems to float behind her.

I join in the clapping as we come to a stop reaching the middle of the room. I’m surprised to see Yoongi her and remain standing in the back watching as the human steps right over to his side, bowing respectfully to the elder coming from Jeju that’s the closest one next to her.

The murmurs that raise, confirm my hunch – nobody is protesting her position in their lines but they are all questioning it. Out of the gathered mass my friend Yugyeom makes and appearance across us trying lowkey to keep a surveillance of the room, but he ends up looking straight at me. Crossing my arms, I shake my head amused at his fresh blood so to speak. I know he has been put in charge of protecting, their coven’s linguist Jackson. He simply smirks in return and disappears into the crowd. The other linguist or advisors’ steps next to their elders same as Y/N did while the Prince continues on telling a war story, probably meant to inspire everyone and instead I bet it has everyone wanting to stab him or someone else to end his miserable tale.

‘’…for the future!’’ he ends his speech soon after but not soon enough. The claps arise once more, while the elders start moving towards the end of the room, where a door will lead them into another room which happens to be our grand library, expanding up into the second floor as well.

One by one they make their way inside, the Prince getting distracted by his own advisor standing near the back. But I think for the most part everyone’s attention is situated on the only being that’s not of our kin in the room. The human accepts Yoongi’s offered arm, wrapping her own around his as they follow everyone else ignoring the rumours and different expressions offered towards them.

If I had a heart, I think it would be beating out of my chest by now. My body doesn’t necessarily lack all human traits but the stillness keeps emotions hidden luckily more times than not – I feel the heaviness settle in my stomach like a boulder invading my senses. For some reason I get a bad, bad feeling about this. My anger returns as this just crosses all the lines doesn’t it. And by some snarls once the two of them pass the doors lets me know I’m not feeling this alone.

My friend’s presence next to me, stops me from reacting too strongly like some vampires do hisses and protests rising. We both watch in silence and with frowns as the party mood turns tense. Some of the more mature meaning older vampires start to protest loudly, some going towards the doors where Taehyung has settled himself, along with mainly Prince’s extra guards. There’s an official speaker that’s been left outside trying to calm and charm the defiant bunch. Hoseok and Jimin hyung aren’t far away trying to get the party started once more doing a way better job than the assigned guy. Jin and Namjoon entered the meeting as well, leaving the responsibility onto us; mine being mainly security and basically manhandling if someone turns out to act too unruly.

‘’Interesting developments.’’ Yugyeom comments quietly. Glancing over at him, the turtleneck he has on wants me to make fun of him, but this situation prevents me from doing so. Dressed all in black and with freshly dyed black hair, he looks aged somewhat. The fluorescent yellow hair he had not even a month ago made him look younger.

‘’Uh huh.’’ I simply hum tearing my eyes away from the doors and crowd ‘’I’m surprised you’re still here.’’

Sparing him a glance my friend doesn’t seem phased at my question, just snorting in response at first keeping an eye out as I do too ‘’Gotta earn my place in due time.’’ I tilt my head to the side briefly rising my head up as I smirk knowing those words all too well myself ‘’So what’s this whole infuriation thing going on with the flesh bag?’’ he asks, motioning for me to start walking. The nickname he uses for the human strikes a weird chord deep withing me. I keep silent at first, as we make our way towards the other side of the room, and the balcony that’s closest to the library. No guards are settled here, which makes it seem as a lack of good strategy having been put in place. Anyone can jump through the windows to get the elders attention – this is getting strange and not in a good way.

The terrace is illuminated by the outdoor lights, as well as the half of the moon that’s glowing above us. The chilliness of the air is welcomed, even though I literally can’t differentiate temperatures as much as I did when I was a human in a sense of them bothering me.

‘’Rumours are already spreading.’’ The vampire next to me says keeping his tone down, as he leans against the railing, offering me a cocky smirk. I frown at him, turning my back to the gardens while I glance towards the library. The wall has been built in a way that you can barely see inside. And right now, the curtains have been drawn close. So, I glance inside at the calmed down vampires, spotting newcomers. It’s easy to detect their fastened heart beats, excitement rising. The main course of the night has arrived.

‘’Oh, do tell.’’ I grunt again spotting the blonde that seems to be haunting me this whole evening. She’s dancing with a human male, that’s almost literally slobbering over her.

‘’Where to start.’’ Yugyeom chuckles clearly amused ‘’Some say, she’s just a new pet Yoongi hyung found. Some have the impression of her being his concubine seeing her skin so battered. Others speculate that the scars are from fighting, as in some being former fighting and even sword wounds. The huge scaring on her back someone said is from whipping which isn’t it kinky ey?’’ he wiggles his eyebrows snapping his fingers, acting ridiculous.

My brows furrow at new gossip, and his words and implications. Fighting wounds? Whips. I know how whips feel, how whipping…how…

With some difficulty I swallow the lump in my throat. I can’t find myself imagining her being whipped, it just doesn’t make sense. She’s to chirp and loud and, full of life to have been put through something traumatic such as whipping. The rock in my gut just seems to have been set on fire, as nerves settle more prominently.

‘’Hah yeah.’’ I fake a smile which he does buy into it and continues on.

‘’Some are into the aspect of fucking her.’’ my lips go into a thin line as he says that cheerfully ‘’I think as a fetish more or less or something I’m not sure.’’ He pauses for a moment ‘’Do you think I can have a go at her too?? If hyung is willing to share her that is. Price and all included.’’ legitimately he looks eager and suddenly hungry pupils dilating slightly.

I simply glare at him the growl grumbling in my throat unexpected and has me freezing. But he gets the hint and raises his hands up a bright grin settling over his features ‘’No harm done bro! Understood loud and clear.’’ He even winks at me raising up a finger gun acting as bad as she does ‘’Man why do all exciting things happen to you and none to me?! It’s pretty boring sometimes. You should visit sometimes.’’ He’s quick to switch the conversation tension that has risen between us deflating halfway. But it’s still present.

I love Yugyeom I really do; we grew up together when we were humans so he’s more like a real brother to me. But right now, I’m finding myself disliking him, and the way he was led to think about Y/N. I’m the first person wishing for her to just leave us alone, but I would not want her to fall into the hands of these fuckers here. Everyone that attends these sorts of gatherings hold themselves way to fucking high up, as if they are royalty. In reality we all, came from dirt – and the ones that have not are pretentious pricks that have been handed things on golden platters unfortunately. There’s no in between in our society.

Screams raise up from the inside, fright loud and clear in the air as the invited humans try to run away. Its soon after that moans replace the terror the flip quicker than the usual. Our guests were hungrier than they led on.

‘’When all of this excitement goes down I will.’’ I promise smiling feeling my shoulders relax as the scent of blood reaches my nose. It has my friend straightening up as well shifting from one foot to another ‘’We’ve got a bet to settle, don’t we?’’

He wiggles his eyebrows chuckling, pushing himself away from the railing ‘’Wanna end it now?’’ he challenges. The bet is ridiculous and downright douche-y. I won’t go into details right now, as the nerves of the mere thought of trying at it, does the opposite of exciting me.

I shake my head at him waving my hand in dismissiveness ‘’Next time. I’ve had my fill earlier today.’’ I lie smoothly. He must be really hungry because he nods and is backing away instead of trying to wrestle me inside.

‘’Your loss bunny boy.’’ I roll my eyes as he reaches the doors ‘’More for me!’’ and with that he’s out of sight easily catching a fleeting girl twirling her around. Not wanting to see what follows, I spare a glance at a man that has another one pressed against a column, draining him hands roaming all over the human’s body who looks like he’s in pure bliss.

Another pair has settled on the ground shamelessly grinding against one another. With a bitter taste in my mouth I turn my back to all of them, and lean onto the stone railing, looking across the garden. Even though there’s so much going on behind me, I do pick up on pitter-pattering of creatures ahead of us. There’s a forest not far away from our estate, the back gardens connected to it. So many creatures do have access and roam freely around it by daylight mainly, sensing us as we sense them.

The smell of blood, and heaviness of sex whisks past me, the mixed smells raising the all too familiar itch to start scratching at my throat insistently so. Even with years of self-discipline and learning control the hard way, by being chained up most times than not it’s hard to ignore my instincts. I do want to just run in, and sink my teeth into some girl, or guy to drink them dry. This is the only time where we can do it, as usually our food comes from donors these days.

What I don’t understand is why for the first time something is holding me back. The blood doesn’t smell right, its either to sweetened or bland. Same as the noises and screams; nothing in particular arouses me, not even my own thoughts of the blonde. Her red wine dress, tugged up legs spread wide open beneath me, as I take her right where I’m standing here it’s just…I bet she’d moan nicely and beg to be fuck hard to the point before breaking. Her eyes would glow nicely wouldn’t they…

But the glow feels wrong. Her flawless skin would match my own under my palms, it wouldn’t be heated up, or fleshy to grope. Same as her melodic tone, it wouldn’t be raspy like I want it to be. Her scent is probably all wrong too, I bet she smells nothing like strawb…

‘’There you are.’’ as if I’ve called her or have pulled her straight out of my mind she’s right there at the doors. Turning around I raise an eyebrow upon seeing her, dragging another human girl that’s panting and has a leash around her neck. She visibly shivers at the change of temperature but the blonde pays her no mind ‘’You’re a hard man to catch.’’

Smirking I straighten up half turning around watching as she licks a bold stripe up the human girl’s neck making a show of it ‘’Hard to believe that. I wasn’t hiding or running away from you.’’

She muses pursing her lips, as she stands on the humans left side groping her whilst her eyes are hungrily taking me in ‘’Duty before pleasure I presume.’’

‘’Afraid so.’’ I nod in return, as the blonde whispers something in the girl’s ears. She moans hungrily eyeing the blonde that pushes her against the wall and shushes her down promising to do filthy things to her. It doesn’t take much for the human to comply, her hands flying under the skirt of her dress eyes shutting closed. My attention remains on the blonde instead as she turns around and approaches me still musing.

‘’Politics are such a bore.’’ She states standing next to me, looking across the garden ‘’Like life sometimes.’’ Looking at her she looks up at me curiously ‘’But I bet you can’t say the same.’’

‘’Hmm define the word boring.’’ I tease back her lips quirking into a smirk.

‘’Ah you know the usual. Feed, seduce, feed more and so on so on.’’ she replies stepping closer to me ‘’Now you’re turn.’’ Her hands are quick to rank up my suit jacket, nails a contrast that doesn’t go together with my outfit.

‘’Not much difference. Feed, train, feed more and train a bit more.’’ I almost neutrally reply, holding in my breath as he hands reach just beneath my collarbones abandoning my suit jacket in favour of testing out how firm my chest is.

‘’Hard to believe there’s nothing more, exciting to fill up your schedule.’’ Her eyes meet my own. And same as in my day dream, they glint briefly brightly red. She is laying all her cards on the table. And I’ve waited all night for this to happen. Granted I wanted to chase her down, like a gentleman but she’s here either way in my grasp.

Straightening up, I place my hands over her hips keeping silent for a moment further as I slide them shamelessly to grip her ass, the action having her breathing hitch. It doesn’t feel all that nice. Leaning down, I hover inches away from her thin lips shaded into a matching colour to her dress.

‘’There’s a possibility I like keeping that part of it to myself.’’ at this she arches an eyebrow showing of her sharp teeth as she smiles. As I intake a breath her scent fills my senses completely. She smells like roses, and butterscotch the combination wanting to be sweet and yet – I don’t find it nice.

It lacks that real tender sweetness, and fruitiness.

‘’Do you reveal it to only a handful of people then perhaps?’’ she breathes out eyes glowing brightly red, as I tug her left thigh upwards pressing her to myself shifting so that she can’t exactly feel me against her. I’m not hard at all. Not even semi-hard. Okay maybe a tiny bit but it’s worrisome that I’m not feeling any attraction to her anymore.

I take a look at her up and close trying to get my body to react, or convince myself to at least think that’s she’s attractive. Her blonde hair seems fake up close, features way too symmetrical and off putting for whatever reason. Her makeup is heavily put on, lines not visible. Glancing down at her body and how she’s pressed against me…the hold I have on her…it’s lacking. She’s very plain. The perfection I praised not long ago, is now just dull and uninteresting.

‘’We can share.’’ She adds probably detecting my hesitance ‘’Kitten won’t mind it once bit.’’ the nickname she uses throws me off further. Even though I do look at the human girl that’s shamelessly uncovered her lower part and is rubbing herself for us to see, moans filling the night air – it’s not convincing enough. I’d rather take the human girl for myself instead of sharing.

Grunting I let go of the blonde’s leg realizing in the back of my mind that I don’t even know her name. She looks at me with furrowed brows, as I take half a step away distancing myself.

‘’Found you!’’ a voice sings cheerfully from the doors. Both of us look towards the orange haired male, that grins widely, his mouth smeared in red ‘’Oh what do we have here.’’ He’s quick to skip over to the human, taking her in ‘’Yah Jeongguk-ah you are so selfish.’’ He pouts, running his hands over the trembling girl’s side.

‘’Jimin-ssi when I told you to beat it, I meant it. With all due respect.’’ Blondie pips up crossing her arms and looks annoyed while my hyung remains playfully touching the human girl, that’s panting louder.

‘’C c c Dahyun-ah. That’s so mean coming from such a sweet girl like yourself.’’ He pouts crowding behind the girls back. He hocks his chin over her shoulder as he gives us puppy eyes. I smirk at his antics thanking him quickly in my mind, that he was so quick to answer my call not even 2 minutes ago. Given by the silence of the blonde – or apparently Dahyun he has her hocked.

‘’Why don’t you teach her some manners hyung?’’ I propose crossing my arms as I lean back against the railing. She turns to look at me stunned mouth opening to say something, but Jimin in a bat of an eye is right there crowding into her space blocking her view away from me.

‘’I really should, shouldn’t I?’’ he growls lowly hand reaching under her chin to keep her focus on him ‘’You think you can handle it baby doll?’’

I frown instantaneous turning away eyes trailing off to the library, mind switching to the image of Y/N. Those are almost the same words that she used to tease him. Turning back to the two, they have ended making out – plain and simple. But once he opens his eyes and grins, she continues licking at him like an animal trying to get every trace of blood from his chin and cheek.

Jimin doesn’t say anything just sends me a wink and a I owe you one Jeonggukkie dragging both Dahyun and the human girl back inside in mere moments. He even closes the balcony door. A gentleman indeed.

My shoulders just sag, as I sit myself on the railing climbing over it, letting my legs hang over the edge as I stare at the moon at first watching as it lowers down slowly, orbiting around us.

What a stupid and weird night. I run my hands over my face trying to gather my thoughts that are in disarray. So much has happened, and still is happening. There are so many mysteries too, more than I thought there would be resolving one simple human. She should have stayed hidden upstairs away from everyone’s greedy gazes and thoughts, far away from the centre of anyone else’s attention. Rephrase that she should be here in the first place.

Saying she’s hyungs long term friend is stupid. I’ve known hyung over 190 years given that he was the one who saved and turned me. I’ve never seen her before; he never even mentioned her name or anything.

Even if he does have meetings in the city, there’s no way they could have hung out. Either of us would smell her on him, even if he did change clothes before coming home. Which we know he’s too lazy to go through that much trouble. He’s not hiding her away right now, meaning he didn’t give her a second thought then either.

There are so many questions to answer some completely illogical on their own.

Looking towards the library, nothing has changed. Not even the boulder in my stomach that weights me down. Something is about to happen. Changes are coming. She’s the initiator of it all. I just hope it’s not something of a downfall for us. It sure feels like it.

Part 1 / Part 2

Dictionary: Wangseja - Crown prince, the son of the king who appointed as heir to the throne. Gonryongpo – Dragon Robe/ were the everyday dress of the emperors or kings of China, Korea Vietnam and the Ryukyu Kingdom. Samjeongdo - the sword given to newly promoted Korean military generals each year by the Ministry of National Defence. Kopis - a heavy knife with a forward-curving blade / the Ancient Greeks often used single-edged blades in warfare, as attested to by art and literature.

#bts vampire au #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook #enemies to lovers #bts jeon jeongguk #bts soulmate au #jeongguk x reader #bts smut #BTS jungkook #bts vampire #reincarnation au #yoongi vampire #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts romance #bts fluff #reincarnation

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oftenderweapons · 5 years ago

Text

The Conversations - part 3/3

Characters: Hoseok, Taehyung

Wordcount: 2.2k words

Genre: slice of life, discussion of NSFW topics, conversation

Rating: suggested 18+

Hello readers! I’m back and I bear gifts!

This is the final installment for The Conversations. In this piece Tae and Hobi discuss their relationships with their girlfriend, Lace -- Tae’s gf -- and Giggles -- Hobi’s --, sharing some spicy details and offering each other advice. Since I consider them the “freakiest” among the guys, do expect some TMI.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: so much BDSM I had to read a handbook, impact play and dedicated objects, bondage and restrictions, themes of domination and submission, use of safeword and mentions of subspace. Voyeurism and exhibitionism, adult clubs and dungeons, public sex, masturbation and oral sex. Blindfold, powerplay, roleplay. Mentions of a sextape... :’) (also hints of a possibly angsty Namjoon future fic, I had to.)

Wordcount: 2.2k

And here is my masterlist :)

Enjoy!

“Hey hyung, sorry for last night.” Taehyung said, sitting beside Hoseok at the lunch table in the common room.

“It’s okay, no biggie.” Hoseok already had a bright smile on, warm and honestly unbothered by the event.

“I didn’t knew Giggles was at your’s.” Taehyung opened his lunch, starting to analyse the various boxes and cups.

“Yeah,” Hobi’s ears turned reddish. “It was a surprise for me too.”

“How is it going?” Tae cheered as he found the main course. Beside him Hoseok stirred his noodles.

“It’s great. She’s fantastic. How about Lace?”

“She’s doing great. We’re doing great.” Taehyung looked around a little to see if anyone could possibly overhear. “We experimented with a riding crop. Best decision of my life.”

Hoseok laughed out loud, smashing his free hand enthusiastically against the table. “Glad to know. Giggles prefers the paddle. Or my hands. But yeah, Lace gives crop vibes.”

“She’s a huge freak.” Tae took some kimchi, mixing it with his rice. His mouth still half full, he muttered. “But I guess I am, too.”

“As long as she likes that there’s nothing wrong.” He too took a bite of his own food. “Wanna share?”

“What? No.” Tae filled his mouth some more. “I mean, I have to ask Lace first.”

“I mean the food, you pervert.” Hoseok bent over his dish, “though I guess nor Lace nor Giggles would oppose.”

“God, Lace is such an exhibitionist.” Tae said, motioning to his side dish and inviting Hobi to take what he liked.

Hobi also put his smaller boxes in the middle. “And you’re a voyeur, which works just fine.”

“Match made in heaven. Does Giggles like it too?”

“She likes it enough. But, she’s not that visual. She prefers focusing on other senses.”

“I kinda reckoned.” Taehyung remembered the previous night, when he’d endlessly knocked on Hobi’s apartment door only to have his hyung come to the door half undressed, faux leather pants on, his forehead sweaty. Behind him, Tae could recognise a woman -- well, Giggles -- fully naked, sitting on a chair, wearing nothing but a blindfold. And several feet of rope.

“Freak.” Deadpanned Hoseok.

“What about you, freak?” Tae also stirred his noodles, enjoying the steam coming from them together with the heavy smell of soy sauce and fried peppers.

“Do you want me to say I enjoy having her at my mercy, nothing but a blabbering mess, incapable of getting away or understanding what’s going to happen to her?” Hoseok was overly descriptive on that. “Because yes, I do.”

“So not only blindfolded but also tied up?”

“If she’s not behaving, then yes.” Hoseok suddenly looked stern.

“I bet she doesn’t behave much.”

“At all.” Hoseok smirked. “I think I should change her punishment to something she enjoys less.”

“Lace hates not touching me.” Tae fits a huge meat roll in his mouth.

“Giggles is not bothered, as long as I’m touching her. She needs to feel some sort of an anchor, a safety line, so to say.”

“Well, I’d need one too if I were tied up and in the dark.” His mind wandered back to one of his first times with Lace, when he’d let her cover his eyes with a thick silk scarf tied behind his head, his body at her mercy, as she observed him and touched him without him knowing where she’d land her attack, without his intense gaze following her every movement and making her flustered. She had confessed feeling free, unjudged. Not that he would ever judge her, but he knew that he would feel conscious too if he were the one in the spotlight, were the roles to be reversed. He knew he would feel freer without his lover looking at him, analysing where his attention gravitated. But this happened at the beginning, when they were still learning. Now their most pressing need is watching each other.

“Well. Once it got bad. She got into subspace. Only time she used her safeword. That’s why we don’t use handcuffs anymore.” Hoseok’s face was instantly dull. He still tortured himself for what had happened that one time. The look in Giggle's eyes as he let her wrists free, the angry red marks on her skin showing the indentations of the metal. The way she had seemed so broken, so lost. And the heavy tears falling on his chest as she hid in his form, clinging to him.

"Just once? Me and Lace had to use them a couple times. Both of us. Sometimes she's not in the right mindset and she asks me to stop and cuddle her. Sweetest thing in the universe." His eyes turn dreamy. "After her taste, obviously."

Hoseok laughs and punches him lightly. "TMI, bro."

"Come on, if Giggles tasted that sweet you would boast too."

"I'd rather keep that honey all to myself."

"Greedy." Taehyung poured himself some cola, watching it fizzle before downing it in one go. "By the way, do you have any good role play suggestion? I'm thinking of surprising her during the weekend but I'm so tired I can barely think."

"Strangers at the hotel. Book a room, meet at the lobby and then go upstairs to fuck like bunnies?" Hobi said it without even thinking.

"Done that."

"It's a classic. Giggles loves it. She fucks me like a slut." He snickered softly, nothing but dark mischief in his voice, but also undying fondness for his beloved.

"And that's TMI." Tae quips.

"You asked."

"Yeah, fair."

"Maid and master. Or butler and madame. You pick." Hobi drank some Sprite directly from the bottle.

"Cliché." Taehyung tutted and proceeded with his meal. “I don’t know. Not really.”

"Artist and muse? I don't know man, you're super picky." It came out with his typically whiny intonation, his tone a rollercoaster as he got deeper into thought.

Taehyung stayed quiet for a few minutes, mulling over the possibility. “Could do.”

The other man slurped in his noodles, finishing them and sipping the soup. “So, roleplay, uh?”

“It makes me feel freer. Like I’m not V from BTS. Like I’m just a boy who loves his girl.”

Hobi nodded. “You don’t know the incredible amount of places I wish I could fuck Giggles.”

Tae clapped his hands and laughed. “Like that one time at the restaurant. Damn, you disappeared for half an hour.”

Hoseok stood up to discard his container, then sat down again. In the meantime he reminisced. How Giggles had smiled mysteriously at him, holding his hand and carefully taking him away from the main scene, into a corridor and then to the restroom. He remembered how she’d palmed him heavily, how he’d cum in her mouth after five minutes of her devoted ministrations. He remembered how Giggles had fingered herself as she was sucking him, waiting for him to be done so he would crouch down, bunch up her skirt and eat her out until her eyes crossed and her legs quivered, lost in ecstasy.

“Sometimes I wished I could just get lost somewhere like in an alley or drive off in the countryside and get it all loose.” Hoseok huffed quietly as he cleaned after his meal, grabbing an half empty tube of ice cream and setting it on the table, again sitting beside Tae. “Make her take off her panties while we’re out for dinner. Do her against the mirror in the elevator.”

“The one back at the dorms...” Tae arched an eyebrow, nodding knowingly.

“Yeah. Or like… Go to a club and just finger her on the dancefloor. Or in a dark nook.” His eyes crinkled shut.

“I get it. People knowing you sucks sometimes. Lace and I wanted to go to one of those... dungeons? Or maybe like an adult club. One of those places where you can perform in front of a crowd. Try some real exhibitionism. And some serious bondage.” Taehyung finished his own meal, discarding the finished cups and plates and grabbing a spoon to share the ice cream.

“Like, shibari?” Hobi asked, making eye contact with his friend.

“Yeah, why not.” Tae shrugged. “Lace would be interested. We’ve done mild things before and she enjoyed, but those are things you need to learn with an expert and just thinking of all the things that could go wrong makes me shiver.” He took a big mouthful of ice cream, almost freezing his brain in the process.

“I took an online course. Kinda fun.” Hoseok smiled and turned a bit shy. “Giggles was ecstatic. We learned some extra knots together, from a book our teacher recommended. She’s a keen student. Very dedicated.” He exploded in bubbly laughter.

“Would you let her tie you up?” Tea asked.

“I don’t know if she wants to, but I would let her.” Hobi blushed. “I wouldn’t mind. She’s talented. And disciplined. Very careful and diligent. I know I would be in good hands. What about you?”

“I’ve already let Lace tie me up.” Taehyung was absolutely confident, his voice neutral. “I enjoy letting her manhandle me every now and then.” He shrugged again, blowing his cheeks and rubbing at his chin. “She can do that. Honestly, she did take some lessons and taught me a few things. We explore a lot together.” At this, his eyes moved to the floor, a bit flustered. Lace knew his body like no one else in the world. He had spent years living in it and getting to know it, but his girlfriend had put body and soul into exploring him, memorising every small tell, every little quirk and sweet spot. Lace had unravelled him in a couple weeks, studying his anatomy with a maniacal precision. And when he allowed her to take control of him, her knowledge showed. Her fingers could draw endless pleasure, keeping him on his toes for hours and then making him explode like fireworks. But the most important thing was the way she had learned to soothe him, to care after him, her affection like balm to his bitter moods and darkest nights.

“Glad for you.” Hoseok gave him a pat on the shoulder, drawing him in for a hug.

Taehyung was getting ready to leave. “I got to talk to Namjoon. He’s giving me feedback on some lines in English. By the way, have you heard of him and Vixen?”

“What?”

“Had a fight. He’s hell-bent on making it up to her.” Tae scrunched his nose. “Guk sorta walked in on them in the studio the other day. I don’t know if they made up.”

Hoseok pouted. “Joon temper’s sucks. Boy got some pent up pressure and he’s gonna blow a fuse someday or other. Plus Vixen’s no saint.”

“She holds him accountable for his bullshit. Takes good care of him. Plus, man, she’s a keeper.”

“Truly.” Hobi thought back to the sparks between her and Namjoon everytime they’re together. If that wasn’t love, then he didn’t know what it could ever be. Probably it was the way Giggles searched for his hand when she was afraid, the way she always looked at him when she found something funny, or that small breath she held every time he said her name. Or even the way he needed to bury his nose in her neck when he needed to rest. How he always put his hand on the small of her back when he needed her at his side, when he looked for support and protection.

Taehyung already had his hand on the handle of the kitchen’s door when Hoseok stopped him. “How do you store your… stuff, with Lace?”

“You mean what? Toys? Porn? Pics?”

The older huffed. God, he’s really shameless. “Your vids?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. That stuff. I assume you’re not hiding it from her?”

“I was thinking of shooting something. I need safe storage.” Hoseok rubbed at his forehead, crossing his arms.

“Avoid phones. Worst thing. Get yourself a good camera and a decent memory card. Like 72GB. Keep all the stuff in the memory card or pen drive. Lace and I have it in our bedside table. Never keep stuff on the phone or in cloud.” He pointed a finger towards Hoseok for emphasis. “I would recommend an action camera, which is practical like a phone but safer. But if you do use a phone, no connection, no wifi, nothing. Just a phone used like a good ol' camera. Move all the stuff away as soon as you’re done.”

“Yeah, that was sort of a given..” Hobi nodded. “So, a camera? Suggestions?”

“Depends? Handheld or tripod?” Taehyung asked, checking his phone.

“You know me. Hands on my girl, and I like shifting a lot.”

“Tripod. Definitely. I’ll send you some links for reference tonight. Enjoy.”

#bangtan sonyeondan #bts smut #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts reaction #bts headcanon #kim taehyung #jung hoseok #hoseok imagine #hobi imagine #hoseok reaction #hobi reaction #taehyung imagine #taehyung reaction #hoseok one shot #taehyung one shot #bts conversation

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