#the men are simply repulsive

[callmekamel]

DER BESUCH DER ALTEN DAME NJSNSJWNKSNSKW yes the musical starring Pia Douwes is great BUT the 1959 TV film???

Chef snog. It's brilliant. Hanging by the thread. Very on the edge. You just can't escape. I laughed so much when I read the play since it's hilarious but this film?? yes I did laugh but like, tragically. It's so GOOD.

They have like, 10 actors and the bare minimum set for the whole 2 hours and they make it WORK. It's simple, affective, practical, very German.

It's on youtube. For those who doesn't speak german then I encourage you to read the english version of the play first. Don't worry you will still be emraptured by the film

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (part 4)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦

Part 4 Enough

Alastor struggled with the prior expectations others had of him, but you eased them away with gentle hands. And to your great comfort, Tommy’s absence is noticed but not entirely shocking to anyone. With that concern behind him, finally, Alastor gives in to his own selfish wants and asks for your help with his “work.”

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, No smut! No pussy eating! No fingering! It took away from the important events and Alastor’s mental health (I know he’s not real but he’s KINDA REAL?) so I didn’t include it. Next time! , Murder, dead bodies, allusions to bad things by bad men, Alastor has had bad times and will have bad times, bad kind of choking, domestic shit, Detective Brady, Obvious Sin」

You let Alastor start the shower, remembering people often complaining you turned it too hot. Stepping into the tub and drawing the curtain around, you told him to face the water so you could clean his back. It wasn’t dirty, you just wanted an excuse to touch and stare.

A moment of silence, you were a little scared to speak but had a question burning a hole in your pocket, “Do you like sex?” You ran the bar of soap down his back, no wash cloth in sight.

“It’s … pleasurable.”

Your mouth twisted, “I thought maybe…it didn’t work.”

He laughed, “You wouldn’t be the first. Works fine. I just don’t care to use it much. I don’t-“ a pause, he considered how to say it as he had never said it out loud before, “I don’t see the appeal, typically. There’s better ways to enjoy my time and chase pleasures than sweating over a stranger,” The word stranger floated in the air around you. Alastor felt the need to push it away, dispel it as quickly as he could, “Dancing is basically the same thing, which seems to be the issue with current society.”

“I can respect that. Well, I’m relieved you aren’t dependent on murder for an erection because I don’t think I can hide that many bodies.” A chuckle from him, but you grimaced. Not now, don’t joke now. Stop hiding from the uncomfortable vulnerability of blunt honesty. You were glad he couldn’t see your face, resting your head between his shoulder blades as you lazily washed his lower back and down, “Don’t push yourself. I know I’ve been-,”

“Affectionate?”

“Aggressive.” You winced, “your word is better. Just, I wont… I can't enjoy something you don’t want.” Your traced circles onto his skin, “I can't get my rocks off to someone’s bad time.” A smile you couldn’t see, small and warm. “I hope it’s obvious I won’t go anywhere.”

He laughed louder, offending you a little.

“Sorry, it’s just— yes that’s been made clear. I quite literally told you to stop following me and somehow here we are.” He looked over his shoulder at you and gestured for the soap. You shook your head no.

“Turn around.”

He paused.

“Not— not like that. Unless you want me to?” You would drop to your knees so fast you would damage the tub if he said yes.

“I’m good dear, thank you.”

The tub was safe.

You took your time, covering his chest in suds, his arms, his sides. You did get on your knees after all to wash his feet, his calves, his thighs. You stopped short of going any higher.

He looked down right bashful. It was so cute you wanted to shove your face into his crotch and scream. 

Alastor wasn’t used to people handling him. Not outside of uncomfortable situations. The order of events typically went as follows:

Date makes a move. Alastor politely redirects. Date gets annoyed because it’s not the first time he’s done this. Alastor offers other ways to please them, be it his hands or his mouth. They either get sad (‘You think I’m repulsive, don’t you?!’) or angry (‘What kind of man are you?’). 

If he didn’t find them worth the effort, he would simply end the date then and there. But if he liked them enough, enjoyed their company enough, needed them for some purpose enough, he would acquiesce. They would touch him, and he would react like the touch-me-not plant he used to harass as a child, moving without thought from the stimulation. And he’d think about more engaging things until he got them to  finish or he could say he did. 

And it would buy a little more time with good enough affection and good enough company and good enough reasons. 

Good enough. ‘Enough’ was right there in the phrase. 

And then it would repeat until someone gave up.

When he didn’t move or reply as your hands sat where his thighs met his hips, lost in some train of thought, you left it be and stood. Lathering your hands, “One spot left!”

He suddenly looked so tired, eyebrows rising as if to ask you ‘what’s that?’ yet the dullness of his eyes indicated he wasn’t actually asking. 

But like a fall from a mildly scary height into the sea, thrilling but safe, he tensed as your hands moved. When you began to wash his face, he hit the water feet first.  His shoulders noticeably relaxed, and you thought you saw his chin shake a little, but you let it go to rub circles on his cheeks. You got behind his ears and under his chin. You tried to make a mustache but the soap didn’t lather well enough for that.

“You’re not missing out. I don't look good in facial hair.” He said, and you believed it. 

You handed him the soap and let him finish cleaning himself, trying to steal looks without being too obvious. Making a mental note to yourself for every piece of him to compliment later when he was more comfortable.

It tickled when he washed you, those soft fingers making bubbles across your skin. The steam was dampening his hair. Ah, you just noticed he wasn’t wearing glasses.

“Can you see? Without the glasses?” He was down now, cleaning your already clean legs.

“Ah, well, no.”

You held up 7 fingers.

He squinted then made his eyes wide, “Hmm…. Two hands.” You pushed him down with your foot to his chest, him catching himself with his arm. “At least I didn’t say three, dear.” 

You play kicked, “Unfunny!”

When he laughed now he looked boyish. His laughter bright as a bell. It was so jarring that it made your subconscious remind you of the dead man lying in the other room. The juxtaposition impossible to ignore.

Alastor noticed the shift in the air, getting up and setting the soap down on the lip of the tub. His hands rubbed your cheeks, your chin, your nose.

“You can leave after you’re all cleaned and dressed.” He was looking at your nose as he spoke.

“I can do anything I damn well want.” Your eyes skirted around his face before making him meet your gaze, “Atleast to the car. Okay?” Suddenly insecure about how aggressive you were, “Please.” 

Alastor nodded, could he see your smile? You could see his.

It was unspoken, and somehow equally shocking as the night you grabbed a dead man by the legs, that you dressed each other. Domestic was the only word for it and it was downright frightening for you.

But your body didn’t stop, some magnets in your fingertips drawn to the buttons of his shirt, to the collar you adjusted, to his glasses that you rested on the bridge of his nose.

Alastor hadn’t any idea what he was doing, perhaps his mother had told him to do this and he had long forgotten it. Maybe he saw it in a movie. Or read it in a book. But gingerly, as you sat on a side of the bed away from Tommy, he knelt and rolled up your stockings, watching as you clipped them to the garter belt. He slipped on your shoes and took your hand to help you stand. As you put on your dress his hands took the buttons at the bottom and yours took the top, meeting in the center. His newly clean fingers straightened out the wrinkles.

He avoided looking you in the eyes, something heavy in the space between you two telling him the air might catch fire if he did. He didn’t know what that meant, and he had done enough new things for one evening. 

“Can I ask you something?” He took the twine that tied the clothes together and began looping it through eyelets in the canvas.

“Of course.” He could ask you anything, if you answered was still up in the air.

“Why did you work for a man like that?” Continuing to avoid your face, he busied himself with drawing the sides and corners of the canvas up like a giant sachet.

A good question. One you would think he’d have asked before the murder. “He wasn’t like that before. This whole… thing was a recent shift. I know it was gambling but I think he was getting into some hard drugs too. His behavior had just gotten erratic.”

He tied the twine tightly, “It seemed impulse control was an issue for him, given his brief conversation with me. This-,” he pointed at you, suddenly full of passion again, “This is what I meant. I don’t talk to men for long. What a terrible conversation that was.” You fought back a smile. “Was he bragging? You wouldn’t believe the number of men— well I suppose yes you would.” He pushed up his sleeves and held them in place with arm bands, “If that is the typical sexual tendencies of men then I’m glad to see I evolved past it.” Alastor was spewing a stream of consciousness that even you could tell was out of character. 

Or perhaps, “I have a feeling you’d be saying all this if I were here or not.” You stared down at the canvas bundle.

That smile again, “Normally it’s under my breath but— they don’t seem to mind!” He gave the bundle a tug, checking for the sturdiness of the twine.“So, usually I do this closer to the car…” 

It was unladylike and you loved it, legs open wide as you lifted your half of the bloody package. You lumbered down the tight stairwell as he went backwards, insisting it was the gentlemanly thing to do. There was a moment you were alone at the bottom of the stairs as Alastor brought the car around. You gave the body a little kick, “Why’d you have to go and be such an ass?” Mumbled under your breath like a professional.

As you both stood there, trunk full of Tommy between you, you were unaware of what little wildfires you’d set off in the other.

Alastor felt his stomach flipping, an impulse to grab your face with both hands and kiss you making his fingers tap the roof of the car. He was worried if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. An issue he had never had before, but it still felt like an issue nonetheless. It was, wasn’t it? An issue?

Something in you felt like the good wife in the doorway, waving your darling off to work in the morning. Wanting to plant a kiss on his cheek and straighten his bow tie. If you’d seen a neighbor do it you’d roll your eyes and fake a gag, but you wanted to give it to him. You wanted to give him consistent adoration he could rely on and that was the only example you could think of. A nervous hand considered clawing the feeling out of your chest entirely.

You both decided to play it cool,  Alastor dialling back the urge and planting a single kiss to your nose. You hummed, “If anyone asks…”

“You saw Tommy take the cash and leave.” Alastor said quickly, so confident you could believe maybe you had.

You nodded. Biting your bottom lip you stopped the urge to offer more help. Trust needed to exist that he’d ask for it if he wanted to. 

Maybe your face was losing its skill, mask dissolving under the events of the night, because a grin spread across his face, “Baby steps.”

Always scared of letting him slip through your fingers, you tried to hide how badly you needed another date to look forward to. Pursing your lips, “Speaking of, we’ve checked off public acts of indecency, a dance hall romp, and now some gentle sex near a formerly living man. Would you like to get coffee this week?”

“In the daytime?” False incredulity

“Fully clothed.” You added.

If he hadn’t stifled his laughter, it could have been dangerous, “Scandalous.” A small panic, he hadn’t actually agreed yet. An unfamiliar feeling of insecurity came down on you like a mistimed curtain fall. 

“I’ll need a few days…Saturday, at ten, the little cafe at the west entrance of our favorite park?”

Our. Your knees buckled a little. 

“Sounds positively deviant. I’ll be there with bells on.” Why was your heart pounding now. Why now?

“It’s a date then.” A kiss to your cheek, he tensed, holding back. “Can I drive you home?,” it was spoken into your skin. His lips not leaving your face. 

“I have to go back in. Tell everyone how much of an ass Tommy is for leaving me all alone with that wealthy bore.” Your cheek leaned into his kiss. His lips dragged across your skin to find your mouth, still open.

He exhaled, shakey and slow. Your eyes saw something new; dilated pupils staring down at you. A heat was pooling in your lap again, never so receptive to a pair of eyes before.

“Should I come back?” He knew he shouldn’t.

Luckily so did you. “You know I’m not far from here. Just get home, or wherever you're going, safely.” He finally let his mouth capture yours, his hands roaming the soft fabric of your dress. Red, smooth, warm. You broke away, pulling from some well of strength you didn’t know you had, “If the girls see— there’s no motive quite like a jealous man.”

That grin erupted, beaming a toothy smile that warmed you to your core, “Endlessly fascinating.” His fingers lingered on you until they were pulled away by the limits of his reach, him backing up to the car door, “Be safe. Good night.”

Your legs crossed one in front of the other, had a man ever considered your safety enough to say it out loud? Without adding some patronizing addition like “little lady” or “pretty thing” to it that felt more like an admission of intent? “Good night.”

Alastor rode home in silence, sometimes so lost in thought he would snap back to reality and realize he had no idea how long he had been driving. It would take a second but he would confirm he was still on the right path. 

It was too soon to bring you to his home. He knew that was a logical statement. However, every other part of him wanted to carry you over his shoulder into his house and show you around, excited to hear your responses to the details of his safe harbor. He could cook for you. You two could push the sofa back and dance in the sitting room. The back porch was lovely for early morning reading.

An incorporeal pain tore through his stomach. 

Hands gripping the steering wheel, bright eyes popping up from the tall grass as he rumbled past. 

He was getting ahead of himself again. All of the idioms he was taught were going up in flames. 

‘Don’t put the cart before the horse.’

Unfortunately he had guilded the cart as well, so weighted with the gold of his hopes he was worried the axis would snap.

‘Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.’ 

He had saddled you with an entire coop of his joy. Unfair and unwise.

‘Pearls before swine’

He was, like many men, reduced to a greedy mouthed animal at your feet, incapable of appreciating your attention as it should be. But he didn’t want you to stop. Perhaps a pig could learn?

So much for evolved. 

As he pulled into the dirt driveway of what was his father’s home, then his mother’s home, now his own, he wondered what your first thoughts would be. Would you like it? Were you expecting something grander? Something shiny and new? 

When he was backed up to the greenhouse he rested his head against the steering wheel. 

The smell of the soap was heating up with his thoughts, remembering your hands. You smelled the same now tonight, the same soap. What an intimate thing to share. Could he ever hope to share such things with someone, or was it foolish to spend time thinking about it? 

Alastor would give nearly anything to share a set of plates with someone gentle, to have a set of hand towels in the bathroom for himself and someone patient, to warm two mugs in the morning with coffee for himself and someone understanding.

A secret little dream he threw away shortly after entering adulthood. Which was fine for him. If having those niceties meant having to fake that a part of himself mattered more than it did, he didn’t want them. Not that much. He was already putting on a show outside, he couldn’t bring the audience into his home. His mother’s home. 

As he grappled with Tommy’s impromptu shroud, he considered his outward image. 

He was proud of it. He chose to have it, it was a tool that got him far in life and elevated his status. No qualms. Just, when you expect to do something all of your life alone, it’s foundation shaking to learn perhaps you didn’t have to.

He had convinced himself he preferred to be alone. But now it seemed maybe he had been lying to himself. At some point he confused accepting a situation with preferring it. 

He stared down at Tommy’s pale face, clothes dirty and body stiffening on the metal work station of the greenhouse. He probably would never have learned about Tommy if not for you. No rumors or whispers or warnings about a theater manager abusing the artists in his employ were floating around.

Again, he felt his chest tightening. It didn’t matter if he had had the man already in his sights or not. He would have killed him. Alastor ran his hands through his hair. Would you have stopped him, would he have let you, if you swore Tommy didn’t deserve to die?

No. A silly rhetorical. Had you begged on your knees with tear stained eyes he’d have kissed your cheeks and said whatever you asked to hear. And then he would wait for Tommy to be alone in a dark place like he did the others. And he would avoid looking you in the eye for as long as he had to, until you forgot about the former employer.

With a single and soft clap of his hands he shut his mind off and went about his work. Now wasn't the time for questions and what-ifs. He needed to make Tommy disappear as soon as possible. He didn’t usually kill so close together in time. A brief thought slipped through the cracks of his walls, This would be easier with help. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

No one noticed Tommy was missing until the following night. But given he’d gotten a considerable payday Monday the staff just assumed he was off snorting his profits. 

It wasn’t until Wednesday morning did police come by, Tommy’s mother having called in a missing person’s report.

You heard the girls speaking to the detective outside the dressing room before rehearsals. 

“This is typical Tommy.”

“He’s been dabbling into some heavy stuff.”

“You didn’t hear it from me, but! I heard he got,” you couldn’t see what she was doing, “ya know?”

When the detective looked into the dressing room and asked who he hadn’t spoken with, your eyes met in the mirror, recognition painting his face. 

“Detective Brady! The assistant manager can talk now.” Someone called from down the hall. You continued covering your bruises, hoping he hadn’t noticed them. With a pat to the door frame, metal ring clinking, he left.

He didn’t have time to speak with all of you before it was doors open and left before the show began. As soon as you got home you fished around in your key bowl for the crinkled card.

You dropped it back in, hands coming to your face. Of course. Why would it be any other man?

Deep breathes. It isn’t strange he ran into you before, you worked and lived in the area. He probably handed that card to every woman he passed at night. 

Slow breathes. The girls did the legwork, just follow suit. You were a single woman. No one would suspect you of anything unless they found a smoking gun under your pillow. Even then, if you could bat your eyelashes enough and find a  dainty enough cross necklace you could beat any rap. 

All you wanted now was to see Alastor and tell him. Three more days.

Surprisingly, the theater ran perfectly smoothly without Tommy. James, the assistant, stepped up and everything carried on as usual. The detective didn’t come back, either. Rumor in the dressing room was that Tommy had been an open-and-close case of bad decisions leading to bad outcomes.

There was a sadness at the theater regardless, no one having heard any news. He had wandered off before but he always returned in time for the big weekend shows. But Friday night came and went and Tommy never showed. Which for you was expected, but the other staff seemed worried. The girls, not so much. 

You weren’t as scared as you had thought you’d be. For yourself, atleast. You would rather die than let Alastor be found out because of you. Maybe he would have advice to ease you. Even if he didn’t, you’d be comforted getting him up to speed.

Knowing you’d see Alastor soon was like knowing when the next big rain was coming. You spent all week planning your time around it. 

Except for the small detail that you hadn’t actually known where the west entrance was to the park, or even that the gates had names. But you found it easily enough. As you approached you could see him waiting, a blue suit without the jacket, was there a color he wouldn’t look charming in? 

No. Silly questions seemed to be in the air lately.

You slowed as you approached, him hearing the click of your shoes and turning before you could gather your thoughts. This was the first time to see him in the daylight. 

His mouth was moving but you didn’t hear anything, brain short circuiting. His hair looked so much brighter in the sunlight, sun passing through brown locks. You could see his eyes looking at you, brows rising as he questioned something, but your thoughts were arrested by the color of the gaze you’d spent weeks trying to get into the focus of; a bright honey brown that seemed to shimmer. A little pop of light bounced off a button of his vest, his smile gleamed as he leaned towards you.

Run. You had no business here. A possibly soon-to-be criminalized dancer and him. You should have worn a better dress. Should have gotten your hair done. Should have better.

Alastor couldn’t figure out what your face was saying. He was proficient in reading the expressions of others, in discerning the changes in the air of any given room, but this… he couldn’t place. Your eyes were wide, smile taut and flat as you took a step backward. His hand reached out to stabilize you, your heel catching on the uneven pavement of the lesser cared for wards of the city.

“What’s wrong?” His smile softened. 

You spoke without thinking, something you never did, “You’re too beautiful. I should go.” Your attempt to turn away only half in jest. His bright laugh rang out, melting the muscles of your legs. 

“That’s a new one.” His fingers lingered on your arm, “You can pick a seat, I’ll grab coffee. No staff on the patio.”

Considering fleeing still, you thought about how sad he would be standing there with two coffees in his hands. The weather was quickly cooling, but in the early sun the outdoor seating was perfect for a coffee date. 

Shaking off the nerves, you tried to get a fucking grip. You adored your physical form, you had no issues thinking you deserved whatever you wanted to have. But, well, it was like he was glowing from the inside out. Even his skin seemed to catch the light. There was that quick heart beat again. You looked through the glass front, Alastor in line. If you had gone through with the plan to rob him, and had he returned in the daylight to argue with you… you’d have just handed back his wallet and maybe even your own. 

The least attractive thing about him was his money, strange considering it was normally the most important thing a man had in his pocket for you. 

Did he know? That you had been-

“Autumn, was it?”

You heard something in your neck pop as your head spun toward the voice. The color left your face, you stood so quickly you almost knocked the chair over.

“Detective! What a blessing!” Your hands were trembling as you reached out for one of his with both of yours, “You’ve been on my mind lately.”

The detective, tall and lean, eyes a striking cool blue and hair the color of wheat, removed his hat. “Oh?”

“Yes. I never got a chance to thank you for saving me last week. That man was just not taking no for an answer.” You took several steps to the left, making his back turn towards the cafe doors. 

“I thought maybe you’d been cross with me. You ran off like-.”

“I was just nervous. I didn’t know if you were for real or just another trickster trying to get a lady alone.” You stared at his eyes, trying to keep him focused on you. 

“Ah, well, you had good reason to be. Lucky coincidence seeing you here.” He set his hat under his arm, “I was just headed to your manager’s mother’s home.”

Your eyes flitted to the counter, back to Brady. “Oh? Is…is it bad news, sir?” 

“Not a trace of the man. But, that isn’t uncommon down here I suppose.” The detective sat down at the table you’d been at….you stayed standing. He motioned for you to take a seat, “That being said, I don’t think Tommy just wandered off with some cash.”

Were you wearing your perspiration pads under your dress? You think you were. If not, maybe you could just spill water on yourself and say it was a stain. Stiff, you took a seat. 

“I was hoping to interview the rest of you ladies. I was going to stop by tomorrow but, if you have a moment, what can you tell me about him?” His eyes looked like ice, their effect similar as a chill ran down your spine. 

“Well, oh geez… I don’t want to speak ill of anyone, ever.” Your hard learned skills were coming back to you. Your hands came together to shyly fidget with each other. 

“Consider it a help to the police, no worries ma’am.”

“Miss.” You corrected, that practiced smile small and chaste, “I’m not married, sir. As you can imagine, in my profession, it is very hard to come by good, honest men.”

A chuckle, he put his hat down on the table. Fuck. Fuck! 

“But, uh, yes. I can tell you quite a bit. Tommy was a fine man. For awhile. He was very respectful to us. A clean and tight ship.” You saw the door open behind him, Alastor using his back as his hands were full. “But, the last three months or so, he started getting mean.” You leaned forward, putting your left hand on Brady’s that rested on his hat. Your right hand slipped to the side and under the table, waving frantically to Alastor to turn back around.

Without question he swiveled on his heels, sitting down at another empty table near the cafe doors with his back to you.

You gripped his hand and the hat with one motion, and set it back on his head, “If he saw me talking to a flat foot…it could be a lot of trouble. Maybe we should speak privately.”

Why were you incapable of finding a balance between honey and venom? Your words came out too sweet, voice dipping into the tone you reserved for marks.

“Ah, well…Miss Autumn-,” Brady shifted in his seat.

You stood up, slapping his shoulder, “I meant the theater! Sir!”

He flustered, shaking his head and standing too, “I didn’t say anything!” His nervous laughter eased you, walking further from the table so he would follow. “Well, I’ll be by tomorrow. Maybe we can finish this conversation.“

A nod, not at all intending to tell him you didn’t work Sundays, “That sounds good. Anything I can do to help. But really, I expect Tommy will show up as soon as the cash runs dry.”

With a tip of the hat, he walked off to bring bad news somewhere else. 

You waited a moment before moving to the seat across Alastor. You thought your bones had turned to jelly, “Thanks for the rerouting. Was I obviously rattled?” You were mortified.

“No, not at all!” Alastor set the cup in front of you. “A former beau?”

You shook your head, “Worse. Detective Brady back there came by the theater this week, but didn’t have time to speak to me. Just so happened to see me now on his way to Tommy’s mom. Actually, that was something I wanted to tell you. I’ve met him before.”

His brows rose, blowing slightly on the coffee, “Oh? A patron of your theater?”

“No. That night with Legs. He stopped me a quite a few blocks before I found you. Gave me his card and a warning about missing people and something about little ladies being out at night.”

Alastor nodded, unphazed.

“Should I be worried? Because I’m worried.” You couldn’t even touch your drink, stomach in knots. He smiled, breaking the spell Brady had cast over you.

“Without a body there is no proof anyone is dead. That’s all that matters.” Alastor was cocky, leaning back in his chair with a far too relaxed demeanor.

You hadn’t realized your shoulders were so tight, “Sorry for shooing you away. I just got so scared! If he knows I,” You caught yourself, face going red as you corrected, “thought I had a guy, it could put you under a spotlight.”

His hand came over and gently rubbed your open palm with his thumb, “You’re right. That was smart, thank you.” Alastor smiled brighter, “Now! Let’s put that behind us. I don’t have a terribly long time. There’s a couple things to discuss. Most importantly,” he leaned over the table, face serious, “You think I’m beautiful?”

You kicked at his shin under the table, “My heart nearly stopped! I thought it was something important! Unfunny!”

A snicker, “Cruel?”

You nodded, “Very!”

It was by most people standards a normal date. It only strayed from mundane when Alastor walked you home and asked if you had any nightmares about Tommy. 

When you told him you hadn’t slept that well in weeks, and thanked him softly for his affection as you felt that had something to do with it, he hummed happily. He offered you his home phone number, you gesturing to the phone box at the corner in return. 

The nights were busy, so you often spoke in the mornings before his work. You’d made somewhat of a schedule, waiting in the booth around when you knew he was up and settling with coffee. He’d call, you’d ramble about your evening and what wild thing happened. Luckily the detective never returned after his Sunday visit so your stories were just fun and lighthearted. His laughter sounded so good over the staticy phone line. He would tell you about his work, about the bands he had the pleasure of hearing. New Orleans was the undisputed mother of jazz, and it showed in the fervor of his audience. It wasn’t uncommon he was busy keeping up with demand for more big and new sounds. 

While you enjoyed every opportunity to see him, be it coffee at a different cafe than the first or a walk around forested areas you knew were of use to him, the calls were nice. It allowed you to enjoy him without worrying about putting any undue pressure on him. You could twirl your phone cord and bite your lip without concern.

But finally, the moment you’d been waiting for. You called Alastor and he sounded tense, like he hadn’t slept. With a simple “What’s wrong?”, he asked if you’d want to help him with work.

The first one was almost too easy. Alastor had you wait at a bar where a man he clued you in on frequented. A staff member of his station had missed work for several days, supposedly sick. Alastor got the real story from eavesdropping on the ladies at lunch. The man, Mr. A. Wellington, was next. After watching and waiting, Alastor knew the man’s patterns well enough. Including you was a risk, but he had been fighting the urge to ask you for so long now. This one seemed it would be cut and dry. 

All it took was a smirk, a well placed hand, a laugh. The man practically pushed you down the back stairs of the bar and out through the doors that led to the service street. So engrossed in ignoring your suggestion of slowing down, he didn’t hear or see Alastor standing feet beside you both. 

The look of betrayal on the man’s face as his eyes flew from Alastor back to you increased Alastor’s high was three fold. He asked the man, already too gone to reply, if he remembered his staffer. “You should. She’ll always remember you.” 

You leaned against the door that led back to the hotel bar. Your eyes and ears were open for any unwanted company, any possible danger. Other than your own little madman. Alastor took this one personally, you could tell by how much messier he was than the first two.

While he didn’t explicitly state his code of ethics for selecting “victims”, you had picked up on the pattern. A man who assaulted a young woman, a wife beater, a violent segregationist. 

Was he really doing bad things? You found it hard to pity any of them.

Once the messy part was done you’d help get the man, as it always had been so far, into the trunk. You’d share a few kisses and clean the scene before being driven home, where you’d share a few more. Your favorite part, by far.  And after you waved, he’d drive off to wherever he went with the dead men. 

But one night was atypical. One night was downright horrible.

You lured a man into a large park beside the water. A part of you almost felt bad, as he sweetly held your hand. He had been a perfect gentleman, you seducing him at a dance hall. Alastor had warned you he was dangerous, but you wondered for a second if he was Dangerous or dangerous. Like Alastor-dangerous.

You found your answer when the man smiled down at you, telling you how beautiful you looked in the starlight, how you’d stay so beautiful forever, and wrapped his hands around your neck. Capital “D” Dangerous. 

The man was knocked off balance by Alastor tackling him from the side. You all three fell into the dirt and grass. The wind was forced out of you from the impact, your hands failing to get traction as you tried to sit up. The ground was slick with mud from recent rains flooding the rivers. Hurricane season was already in full swing.

The man wasn’t huge, but he was larger than Alastor. You watched the men struggle, slippery ground complicating Alastor’s attempts to stay upright as he straddled the man, and he couldn’t get leverage enough to bring down the knife. Horrified, you sat on your legs feeling helpless as the man lifted himself and Alastor off the ground entirely and tossed him onto his back. A small cry, Alastor rolled away revealing a rock where his back had landed.

The man only needed one of his large hands to wrap around Alastor’s throat but he used two for the fun of it. Your shoes slipped off as you struggled to get to your feet like a baby deer newly introduced to the world. Everything was wet and spinning, your lungs were burning. 

Alastor didn’t feel scared as his vision went black, just annoyed he had fucked up.

Even that feeling washed away as a grayness flooded into his consciousness. Everything lost color, flavor, texture. All urgency inked out. 

Before everything slipped away, before he slipped under, he thought he heard his mother calling his name.

He thought he heard you scream. 

Part 5 is halfway done 👌

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine

@looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith ,

[edgedfox]

Some gay men have pussies and it’s very harmful/hurtful when a large majority of cis gay men talk about being gay “because vaginas are disgusting.”

Cant really speak for everyone but it annoys me and im sure it’s very similar for no op trans lesbians who constantly have hear about cis lesbians being “dick repulsed” so maybe just shut up and keep it to yourself perhaps!! just a thought!!

Begging cis people to use their one collective braincell and use more inclusive language for a community that has carried LGBTQ on their back for years (trans women of color specifically).

That being said, genital preference is unavoidable for a lot of people, especially for people who have trauma! What we don’t need to do is correlate your sexuality to your genital preference (ie, “i’m a lesbian because dick is gross” “i’m gay because vaginas are gross”). This is not only harmful for trans individuals, but it reduces sexuality simply to anatomy (which is not the point).

[pigeonpeach]

Genshin WOMEN as cats!

Just pure fluff! Gender neutral reader

Characters included: Beidou, Candace Dehya, Eula, Ei, Jean, Lisa, Navia, Shenhe, Yae Miko

Jean

Oh so very stressed. Even once assured her state is temporary and will be reversed by tomorrow. For the day Lisa is left in charge as you must now try to get your catified wife to calm down. Tasty fish perhaps? In reality the real thing she need is a looooong nap. You must make her a comfortable bed, one plush and warm that makes her feel safe and loved aka your lap she wants to sleep on your lap and you have no choice but to oblige. And jean is a deep sleeper. Commonly does she get little sleep. So now that she can she basically sleeps the day away enjoying your pats and kisses.

Navia

Upon her relief that it is temporary she is a most silly kitty. She decides to go out to get fresh fish from Poisson, curious to see if it tastes better now that she’s a cat. You and her body guards must simply accompany her. You hold her on a plush pillow as she meows orders to you. A strange sight indeed for any passerbys. But nonetheless is she a verrry pretty kitty. Oh you cannot neglect her! She deserves many chin scratches and ear scratches too! And she expects them, politely bumping her head into you for more.

Lisa

She probably just goes back to sleep I’ll be real. Lisa probably concocted the ordeal herself for some experiment or just for fun. She will explore Mondstadt’s city. Expecting you to follow and buy her needs. If course being s tasty meal. Afterwards she can’t help but nap in the warm grass making you sit down with her. Before you know it you also take a nap.

Eula

How obscene! Herself? a cat?! Who dare do such a thing! She demands vengeance immediately! The world must know her wrath! You have a very vocal and very angry kitty on your hands so… maybe catnip would be useful? It helps immensely as she now acts like a silly little kitty who keeps dosing off. Once she’s back though she will seek vengeance upon you for daring to drug her in such s state! Even if it was for her benefit!

Beidou

The crew is more panicked than she is. Simply lounging about, eating fish. She sits on your lap like its a throne. A day off is very appreciated. She ends up overfed though as her crew worries about her. You have to physically stop her from eating her 7th fish in a row! She is small now she can’t eat a while shark like before! She ends up annoyed when she can’t drink with her men like before either. Oh well at least she has you. It’ll be a funny story to tell her friends back at shore.

Shenhe

Confused! She is however very calm. She tries to go about her day as normal but that doesn’t go well. She concludes that she should spend the day napping. You however want to spoil and pamper her as she’s so small and very very cute. A elegant white kitty! Your affections are not denied. She does enjoy the chin scratches. She loved her sides being pet. Just don’t let Cloud Retainer see otherwise she’ll freak out.

Ei

She is a cat? How so? How can this be? Fascinating? Unfortunately she must give up desserts for the day which is the most devastating news. Thunderstorms will be a plenty as she mopes having to endure one day of no sweets. She will pout and sulk. Not in your lap but instead resting against your thigh. She will try some fish but is repulsed by its non sweet flavor! How horrible!

Candace

Also very alarmed! She is a protector of Aaru Village! How can she give up one day. You end up contacting Dehya to take over as Candace tries to enjoy cat life. The sand in her toe beans is annoying. But for her the worst is eating unseasoned meat. Kitty stomachs cannot handle spices or advanced flavoring she oh so adores. How unfortunate for her. But at least she has you! You will have to find something entertaining for her to do. Maybe play with the kids or climb trees? Unlike the other catified women she won’t nap until tired. And she is a resilient woman. When she sees you tuckered out and sleeping however she joins you, resting on your chest.

Dehya

Worried but also kind of excited. What adventures can she have now? She wants to go all across sumeru but you make her settle on just sumeru city. She wants to try alot of things. Namely hunting! She’s hunted before sure but she wonders if its easier to be a cat? She aims for pigeons and cranes. With no success you decided to make her a hearty meal of chicken as compensation. Just then she managed to catch one! Oh she is so proud! Proudly showing off her catch with pride! You get to prepare it though, she isn’t interest in eating a mouthful of feathers. She’s also bummed out at no seasonings but hey she’s just proud she could catch something. She also very happy to spend this time with you. It’ll be a funny story to share.

Yae Miko

Unlike most of the ladies here, she is definitely doing this on purpose and is likely doing so for multiple days. She does so in order to get up to some silly mischief as her fox form has become too noticeable. She steals food all while getting away with it because she’s a cute kitty! She spies on rival writers, she causes drama between civilians. You end uo having to quarantine her until she turns back. Oh but then she goes back to mess with you! Is the kitty following you to work her or just a kitty? You’ll never know now. Your lap is never safe again!

[gutsby]

Mr. Dixon

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Your efforts to seduce the DILF next door have all failed spectacularly, so you decide a wet hot car wash in front of his house is in order. Mr. Dixon is less than impressed with your antics and plans to teach you a lesson in good manners and ‘neighborliness.’

Warnings: NSFW. Dad's friend Daryl! Drastic age gap!! Daryl's a dirty old pervert in this one :-) Voyeurism. Masturbation. Descriptions of oral sex (m!receiving). Dirty talk. Degradation. Slight misogyny. Daryl may or may not masturbate out a window at some point.

You had an old pair of Daisy Dukes and a dream.

Faded, frayed, and two times too small for your frame, the shorts hiked an inch up your ass every step you took across the room. Made it damn near pointless bending over before the man in front of you—he could see every inch of your butt regardless—but you did it all the same.

This was Mr. Dixon, after all.

Cool blue orbs illumined by candlelight took the sight of you in and flitted away just as fast. His hands busied themselves with the gun he was taking apart, while you reached for the bullet that had just rolled onto the floor.

“Here you go, Mr. Dixon.”

Your voice had a charming lilt as you held the round out to him.

“Over there,” Daryl grumbled, jerking his head toward the end of the table, “An’ what’d I say ‘bout callin’ me tha’?”

“I feel weird calling daddy’s friends by their first names.”

You shrugged and chucked the tiny piece of lead into the pile of ammunition like Daryl had told you to. Then you sat down beside it, crossing your arms.

He could be so cruel sometimes. Just fooling with his pistol and barking orders like a drill sergeant. Never looking at you longer than a second, and if he did, just shooting you a glare or wounding you with a scowl.

He’d been the toughest nut to crack out of all your father’s friends. No matter how straight-laced and upstanding the men around Mr. Grimes had made themselves out to be, you’d always found the fault line—the weak spot that got you access to the filthiest parts of each one. You’d teased and you’d flirted, earned a couple groping touches and open-mouthed caresses from the likes of the late Mr. Walsh and many others. But never Mr. Dixon.

Even now, sitting across from him in your skimpy Wrangler cut offs, wedges, and a skintight, starch white tank top stretched so tight over your tits the fabric was practically see-through, it was like you were invisible to him. You kicked your feet out in front of you as they dangled from the table and actually felt yourself pout at the feeling of frustration bubbling in your chest.

“I wanna help.” Sounding pitiful.

“No use,” Daryl said as he studied the barrel of the gun with an inscrutable expression, “Already told yer dad, ain’ no use for little girls on the range.”

Your nostrils flared as you started back on your feet.

“I am plenty useful, Mr. Dixon. And I— I’m not the little girl you think I am,” you fired back, sounding more miserable and juvenile with every word you spoke.

At the last, Daryl looked you up and down. It was hardly more than a passing glance, but deliberate enough to be expressive. Emotive.

He looked repulsed by you.

And, rather than dignify you with a response, he simply discarded his firearm on the table and left the room. You trailed behind him into the kitchen and watched him swing the refrigerator door wide on its hinges. Blue eyes surveying the shelves for a can of PBR, most likely.

“I can do anything you need me to,” you rejoined in a huff, desperate to be heard, “I’m twice the shot my old man ever was at my age, I can track if I need to— hell, I’m always doin’ stuff, Mr. Dixon. Things.”

You weren’t sure what rattling off your talents to a man who clearly had no interest in hearing them would accomplish, but you tried it anyway. You sounded like your father. When both of Mr. Dixon’s eyebrows raised in mock surprise and he plopped down on a bar stool opposite you, you wanted to melt right into the floor.

“Doin’ stuff, huh? Thangs?” he mocked your twang.

You gripped the door frame so tight your knuckles turned white. Daryl took a couple swigs of beer and stared you down through every swallow. He brought the can back to the counter, near-empty now, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I got a couple thangs for ya ta do,” he started, grinning, “Why don’t ya put those pretty hands ta work, throw a little apron on, and just...bake me a fuckin’ cake?”

“Funny,” you spat. You felt a surge of bile rise in your throat at the sight of his smug expression.

“Wash my car?”

“Fuck you.”

Daryl’s amusement only grew as the forbidden F-bomb flew from your lips—a word he knew Rick would never tolerate if you’d been in his presence. Presently, his eyes raked over your slight, shaking form at the threshold of the room and figured himself pretty lucky to have provoked such a strong reaction from you. He polished off the last of his drink in a single gulp.

“No need ta get all foul-mouthed, Ms. Grimes, I only—”

“Fuck. You.” Your reply came slower and a touch more measured than he’d expected. Even punctuated with a hint of a smile, making sure to stretch that Southern drawl when you added, “Dar-yl.”

It was the first time you’d ever used his first name.

You weren’t sure you liked it.

Daryl, on the other hand, felt quite certain the sound of his name suited your mouth just fine. A subsequent stir in his jeans wiped the smirk clean off his face, and he began to shift in his seat.

Before he could speak, you were already turning on your heels to leave. Formalities escaped quicker than your anger, and your fingers seemed to move of their own accord to flip Daryl off over your shoulder as you strode out the door, far out of his sight.

Meanwhile, and much to his chagrin, Mr. Dixon was already growing ill with the sounds of your parting wishes bouncing loud off the walls of his skull. Before the front door had even closed, his fingers, too, seemed to move involuntarily and do a thing they probably shouldn’t have done: touch the mound in his jeans.

He rubbed his clothed erection and groaned.

You were such a fucking brat.

Daryl had always thought with a father as eagle-eyed and attentive as Rick, you’d never reach this level of naughty, haughty, and straight up cunt-like, but here you were. Doing Lori proud the way you’d gotten another one of Rick’s best friends wrapped around your little finger.

You were good like that, and still too dense to understand a fraction of the effect you had on him while you did it. The way you’d been looking at him earlier, Daryl was sure you’d convinced yourself he hated you.

If you could only see him now, spitting in one hand and unzipping his fly with the other, freeing his cock, and finally, finally getting his fingers wrapped fast around his shaft with the sole thought of you on his mind as he did. If you could watch him shudder, close his eyes, draw a deep, jagged breath through his nose to scour the air for the faintest trace of your scent lingering there—maybe you’d get it.

Daryl slid his hand down his cock and exhaled a shaky breath. You would simply never “get it,” because he’d already promised himself he wouldn’t let that happen.

As his thumb grazed the head of his red-hot, leaking cock and imagined it was your tongue doing all the work, he had to remind himself this was nothing but a fantasy for him. There was just no way in hell he’d sink to Shane’s level and actually lay his hands on you, no—he was better than that.

He was a man of principle, furiously jerking his cock in his kitchen with the thought of his best friend’s daughter on his mind. He just couldn’t touch you.

Damn if those tits didn’t sit nice under that top, no bra to hold ‘em in. And those shorts…

Daryl felt his head drop back as a wave of pleasure coursed up his spine. In his mind, you were sucking him now, hollowing those soft, sweet cheeks around his member and bobbing your head up and down, again and again, eyes never leaving his. Maybe you’d know to cup his balls, use your tongue to draw a couple lazy shapes down his cock. Any way you wanted it done was exactly how Mr. Dixon needed it, he’d decided.

He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and fucked his hand like a man half his age.

Someone like you.

Scarcely nineteen and so oversexed they might burst.

The difference was Daryl would explode any second now; he had only to hunch over, pump himself a few more times, and finally shoot his load, pretending it was spraying your insides and not the floor of his kitchen.

He’d intended to do just that, clenching his jaw at the filthiest thoughts of you yet, when suddenly, a sound shook the house.

Daryl dropped his cock and looked right out the window.

Down below, outside, you’d laid heavy on your car horn. Let the noise blare a couple seconds before Daryl came bounding over to the window.

When he did, the man thought his legs might buckle.

You were standing beside his truck in the driveway, sponge in hand, soaked head-to-toe in water and soap and smiling brighter than he’d ever seen you. The fabric above your tits was translucent now, clinging like a second skin and affording his lustful gaze every inch of your torso. Your free hand was waving up at him.

Daryl inched the window open with trembling hands.

“Mr. Dixon, this truck is filthy!” you shouted from down below.

Swallowing and blinking was all he knew how to do, it seemed. Finally, Daryl managed, deadpan:

“I know.”

You placed your hands on your hips and narrowed your eyes up at him.

“Have you always been such a dirty old man?”

Fuck. It was like you knew what he’d been doing, crouched over in the privacy of his home while he drooled and dreamed of fucking you stupid. He watched you cross the front of the car.

And lean down to start rubbing your sponge across the hood.

Daryl sincerely feared you might hear his loud groan the second it rose to his throat. He gritted his teeth, tried to fight the sound, but came up short with nothing to show for his efforts but a whimper slipping past his lips.

You started swirling your sponge in circles, tits shaking with every movement you made.

“Too bad little girls ain’t good for nothin’,” you sighed.

When you leaned flat across the metal surface below you, Daryl pictured himself standing behind you, taking his dick and shoving it deep between your folds. Stretching you out and making you scream into the space in front of you.

Slowly, discreetly, Daryl’s hand drifted back to his cock.

“Yeah. Too bad,” he mumbled as you bent over to soak your sponge once more. When you straightened up, you made sure to squeeze the thing over your chest so the water would douse your front. Daryl took the window frame in one hand and his cock in the other, leaning out just slightly to ask, “This the ‘stuff’ ye’s talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Thangs, really,” you answered dryly.

The two of you exchanged a brief smile, and Daryl’s hand started stroking his length.

Lucky for him, and unlucky for you, the size of the window wasn’t primed to make you privy to the sight of him pleasuring himself. At most, you saw a forearm moving gently back and forth. You bit your lower lip and kept your sponge moving in loops.

“Well these ‘thangs’ are gonna get ya in a whole heap of trouble with yer daddy if ya keep this up, girl,” Daryl warned, nodding toward your house with a wary look.

“It’s empty, Mr. Dixon. Whole place is mine for the weekend,” you replied with a sly intonation.

Finally, you stopped long enough to get a hand back down to your shorts. Facing Daryl still, you popped a button on your denim cut-offs and looked up at him with a glossy, innocent stare. You pretended to feel for something that wasn’t there, snagged the band of your light pink thong, and lifted it up to Daryl’s hungry gaze. You saw his bicep visibly strain as he jerked his cock even faster.

Back inside, Daryl was panting, groaning, reeling at the thought of you all alone in your house next door, splayed out across your bed in a baby pink panty set. He soaked in the sight of you and curled his toes into the floor as a new jolt of pleasure broke out through his body.

He was closer than he’d ever been. He rested his head against the window and watched you run your hands over your body, down your front, in your shorts. He imagined your fingers grazing your cunt and how wet you must’ve been then, imagining him right back and fucking him steady with your eyes.

For a moment, your eyelids fluttered, and a blissful look crossed your features. Daryl rutted his hips at the thought of you finding your clit in front of him—desperately wanting to be the source of that pleasure himself—and pumped himself even faster.

“Darlin’, I…I need ya. In such a bad fuckin’ way.” He couldn’t keep the tender term of endearment from dancing on his tongue. The sight of you alone had his brain on the fritz.

You slipped your hand out of your shorts and brought a couple honeyed fingertips to the edge of your lips.

“How bad, Mr. Dixon?” you asked, eyeing him intently.

Daryl whined and felt his insides churn with the threat of release. He knew he couldn’t hold on much longer.

“So— so bad. Need to fuck ya so bad.”

That satisfied your affirmation-hungry itch well enough. You pushed two digits between your lips and started to suck.

From that point on, you didn’t need to see him or hear him or be there waiting patiently on your knees to get a mouthful of his cum—you knew it was coming. Daryl’s face contorted with a blissful, fucked-out expression, and suddenly he was pumping that space below the window full of his load, likely spraying the whole damn thing on the wall.

You stood back and admired your work. Daryl had all but collapsed with both hands planted on the windowsill, wet, brown locks hanging low in his face as the aftershocks of his arousal washed over him.

He was panting and barely able to meet your gaze. You couldn’t quite read the expression.

At any rate, you knew your job here was done.

With a hand waving sweetly back up at him once more, you eyed the mess of a man—your father’s best friend—and started to reach for your bucket and sponge. You buttoned your shorts back up and took a step from his truck. When it seemed Daryl was just then starting to open his mouth to speak, you beat him to it and called out, cheerfully,

“See ya around, Mr. Dixon!”

[sophswritingthings]

protective mizu and her wife who just keeps getting hit on or having creepy comments thrown at her, especially if the creep thinks shes alone. One day either mizu comes up while a guy tries to grab her wrist or she runs and hides behind mizu after a guy made her uncomfortable

pairing: protective!mizu x fem!wife!reader

warning(s): swearing and creepy ass men, blood, mentions of sex/prostitution

a/n: mizu would slice anyones head off who even tried to talk to you, probably

summary: simply walking the streets, men throw creepy comments at you all day long—mostly when you're alone. one day—you see mizu after it happens. safe to say she isn’t thrilled.

word count: 591 words / 3,187 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you were walking down the cobblestoned street of kyoto, glancing around at all the pretty shops—brothels and puppet shows.

all the while getting creepy comments thrown at you, as if you were a woman of a brothel.

you were repulsed; scared, even. men, especially in a place like kyoto, had no remorse for a woman such as yourself. they would take as they please; leaving no room respect.

plus, what made it worse, is that you were married.

and you were traveling with said wife; husband, as you called her to others. and mizu never too kindly to anyone ever bothering you.

you felt a tap on your shoulder.

you turn around to see a man; smiling slyly.

“uh, hello, sir,” you whisper, taking a step back. he was standing way to close for your own comfort. and his smile.. it was peculiar and it freaked you out to no avail.

he simply opens his hand. it reveals four iron coins.

your eyes widen. he was attempting to pay you for sex; you could gather that.

“are—you're trying to pay me to sleep with you,” you hiss, backing up even more. you were repulsed by the idea.

“I’m not trying to,” his eyes narrow, whipping his head up and crossing his arms. “I am paying you.”

“I’m—I’m not—“

your head snaps backward, hoping to go to someone just to get out of this situation.

that’s when you catch a blue eye; your expression and body flooding with relief.

you make a beeline for mizu, dipping around her tall frame and grasping onto her clothes. she glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. you looked as if you were hiding; which, you were.

not knowing who mizu really was to you; this man followed.

“.. who is this?” mizu’s eyes immediately drop to slits, gazing at the man. “(y/n)?”

you press closer against her back, “he’s trying to pay me to sleep with him!” 

mizu’s gaze snapped back at him. her hand was firmly on her sword.

“what right do you believe you have to do that? ask married women to sleep with you,” she rolls her eyes.

“I-I didn’t know she was married, I—“

“who says you would have given two shits if you did know?” she reached out her other hand, grasping him by the front of his clothes.

“I-I would have! I would have—!”

“and how says I give a shit?” mizu flicked down her glasses, revealing her icy blue eyes. scary and stone cold as they seemed to others.

his eyes narrow further, trying to wriggle free from her hold, “y-you're a demon! an onryō!”

“I may be considered so,” she gripped his clothes even tighter. “but you are an asshole who doesn’t know right from wrong. left from fucking right.”

she drew her sword, slicing it with precision across his neck.

he screeched, blood spurting from his wound and onto mizu’s clothes. she dropped him on the ground, watching him twitch and writhe before falling limp and cold.

she turned to you, looking you up and down. she grabbed your hands, seemingly checking places like your wrists for injuries.

“mizu—mizu,” you laced your fingers around hers. “he hasn’t hurt me.. h-he only scared me. If you weren’t around I’m not sure..”

she placed a finger to your lips, “I don’t want to think about that,” she shook her head. “all I care about s you are safe and unharmed.”

you nod, watching as she kissed your fingertips. you were so glad to have her. so safe, so happy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[ceilidho]

prompt: pretty little witch who lives in a cottage in the forest who sometimes eats wayward travellers but Ghost has some kind of magic repulsion aura that doesn’t allow her to use her powers on him (part 1)

-

He moves at a pace too slow for you to make out with the naked eye, but you feel it creeping through you.

The vision of him appears in a dream first, a premonition. A hulking figure trekking through the woods. You snuggle deeper under the covers and scrunch up your nose in your sleep. In the morning, you go outside to harvest the holly leaves and buttercup and return home dreaming of tender, slow cooked meat. It’s been awhile since you last had a proper meal. When you hang up the laundry to dry, you chew on peppermint cuttings and try not to salivate. 

In the centuries you’ve lived in these woods, travellers have come and gone. You don’t eat every single one that happens to pass by—that would be a surefire way to get your forest branded as bedevilled and a longer route established circumnavigating your grove. You might be hungry, but you’re prudent, careful. Not like some other witches these days, greedy for any morsel that happens to pass in front of them. 

No; you take care of your woods. You have to, if you plan on remaining here for the centuries to come. If a few travellers happen to disappear here and there, that’s simply life. Not everyone can make treacherous journeys. 

You always have a sense of when a traveller is nearby. It’s as though your being is embedded within the forest itself, privy to those who dwell within it. You feel him along the outer regions of the forest, a lone traveller hauling not more than himself and a rucksack filled with the bare essentials. He appears to you in flashes in your dreams, not the full image of him but piecemeal, a shadow obscuring his full face from you. You see only tendons and meat on his bones, a rough hewn strength to his limbs, touch muscle and fat wrapped around his middle.

It makes you giddy to think of him circling ever closer to your spider’s web at the centre of the forest. After him, you won’t be hungry for years. 

Your restless leg acts up the day you know that he’s close enough to approach. All morning, you sit at the little table in your kitchen and rip lavender buds from the stems, black shoes tap-tapping away at the floor. The broom sweeps by itself in the corner, sweeping the dust into a neat pile. When you snap your fingers, it’s brusque, impatient. The broom halts in midair and then clatters against the floorboards. The chair scrapes against the floor as you rise to your feet. 

“Come, come, Asphodel,” you whisper to the black cat curled up on the windowsill, which barely lifts her head enough to blink at you. “No more dallying. Mommy’s hungry.”

In a show of great defiance and disrespect, Asphodel merely meows at you and lays her head back down. Insipid little familiar. 

You go off on your own then, keen to see the travellers with your own eyes. Jowls growing tighter. Robe cinched tight around you and hair pinned back by a thin strand of velvet. The days have just begun to shorten, just begun to exhale frost and rot. The leaves however, by agreement, do not crunch under your feet and give you away. You are a phantom amidst the trees as you flank the lone traveller, following the breadth of him as he traversed past your homestead. 

It’s fortunate that you are not beholden to physics because he is formidable. Broad as a man might be, no less sizable than in your dreams, but much more menacing in the flesh. He too moves quietly in the brush, with a care and precision that you have not seen many humans employ. 

He conceals the lower half of his face with a black piece of fabric, which you had mistaken for shadows. Not so. It is a deliberate concealment, meant to unnerve. Without magic, you might not have approached. 

His size alone isn’t enough to frighten you though. You are two hundred years old and you have eaten men twice his size when you were naught but a babe. 

You step out into the clearing just a few paces from him, halting the man in his tracks. 

“Hello,” you call out tentatively, raising a hand to shield your eyes. “C-can you help me? I think I’ve lost my way.”

At this point in your career, it takes a bit to hide the smile that threatens to break. You are like the spider posing as a fly. The show is half the fun though. 

The man doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even seem shocked at your presence, arms loose by his sides. It makes your stomach clench, the script flipped a bit. It should be you, loose and limber, and the wayward traveller tense and nonplussed, then eager to help the lost girl. You wait a moment longer for him to respond, but he remains silent, blue eyes unblinking. 

“Can you help me?” you repeat, taking a step closer. The tendrils of your magic slither out of you, snaking across the forest floor towards him. “I’m lost. Can you help me find my way out?” 

Your magic finds his boots in the dirt like mycelium threads, the pulse of him rich and earthen. It makes the saliva pool in your mouth, hunger gnawing at your guts. He will taste so good. Meaty and huge, enough to last you the winter. You take another step closer despite his continued silence, a tad too eager. You only need a moment though, long enough for your magic to take root, to render him febrile and inert. When he collapses to the ground, you will float his body back and rend him limb from limb by your hearth. 

Another step brings you closer to him when your magic suddenly recoils, unwinds from him. You frown. You try sending it back, but your magic shrinks away, an atavistic fear blooming up in you. It does not want near this man. 

A cold sweat breaks out on your neck. The hairs on your neck and arms stand on end. 

The hooded man staring back at you tilts his head, the skin under his eyes crinkling with a smile that you cannot see. Suddenly eldritch, blood-curdling. 

“Now, what are you?” he asks with a rumbling voice, rough from disuse, and takes a step towards you.

[captain-camille]

_ 𝐀 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧 _

‣ Jack Sparrow x f!reader

‣ requested by anon ‣ 4,2k words

‣ After the ruthless pirate Captain Connor kidnapped you; a mermaid, your situation seems hopeless. Until another outlaw appears who has a score to settle with Connor and ends up freeing you along the way. Destiny or not - there is a connection quickly forming between you...

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ yn got kidnapped and treated badly, violence, mention of injuries/blood, language

Slowly, the distant gunshots faded to peaceful twitter and rustling of an insular rainforest. The Sinister Lady was lost to the firepower of another ship; a huge vessel with imposing black sails.

Captain Connor was cursing a pirate named Jack Sparrow when less and less of his prized possession was seen above the water surface.

The reason for the crew's obvious fear of this man, whoever he was, was beyond you. However, you overheard two men whispering about a chart Connor had stolen some months ago.

Much to your chagrin your abductor's new plan was to shake off Jack Sparrow in the uncharted part of this island. By foot.

The men who had been holding you hostage for over two months after your violent abduction in Whitecap Bay didn't care in the slightest that you were used to a tail, not legs.

A faint sigh of destiny told you that there was no use in running from the man who was coming for the crew of miscreants around you.

But could dying today really be worse than constantly awaiting death?

You raked your neck to get a last glimpse of the unfamiliar ship before the path would be peppered with bushes and Ramón trees.

“You! Sea whore!“ the first mate suddenly barked at you, yanking at the rough metal chain that was locked around your wrists.

Blood was smeared on your skin from how sharp the metal was. Your legs hurt from how far they had already made you walk.

Not daring to look him in the eye, you simply lowered your head. The consequences for misbehaving were ugly.

“Not tha' hard“ he muttered in a disgusting slur. “Ne'er slow down, or else I put a bullet in ye pre'y head“.

Resilience was weighing down on you like a barely comforting blanket. But you knew there was no use of resistance.

You had tried.

Another filthy pirate caught up with the first mate, exchanging glances of egotism with him.

“Ye know, I'll get meself a whole lotta wenches with all tha coins from sellin'er“ he growled, showing off his rotting, black teeth in the process.

A cold sensation of repulsion and woe cascaded down your spine, reminding you that your buyer could be even worse. Vertebra by vertebra.

Your skin began to burn with every minute you spent separated from the sea. Any water.

Oh, how you missed surging through the vast ocean.

But, frankly, you did not miss any of your sisters after they had left you behind with Connor. Most likely they thought you were dead by now.

That is if they were still thinking about you at all.

Every step was exhausting as you were still getting used to walking on your legs, let alone climbing. A painful hiss of surprise escaped your lips as a sharp stone pierced your right foot.

Immediately, the Captain stormed towards you, fury and annoyance written all over his wrinkly face.

“Wha' a sissy, you are. Pull in them hideous fangs and shut it!“ the man growled, spitting on the moist ground only a few inches from where you stood.

You were already tensing, awaiting a rough, painful pull on the chains but your legs were fast enough to keep up.

Coercion seemed to have been a potent teacher after all.

Finally, the seemingly endless topical forest around you broke apart and revealed a small glade with a lake. You could't help but allow a wistful sigh at the sight.

Your home.

“Now we hope Sparrow drops followin' us in 'ere and we can continue head south for Port Felice on tha morrow“ Captain Connor announced earning a collective “Aye“ from his crew.

“I shall spare you the trouble of hopin' then, eh?“ a foreign, male voice echoed from behind a tall bush.

Connor's men rapidly drew their pistols and swords, eyes frantically searching for the voice's source.

Must be Jack Sparrow, you concluded, unsure of what to expect before a strange yet handsome looking man emerged from the greens.

His dark eyes, underlined in black, were trained on Connor and his first mate. He overlooked you sitting on the mossy ground.

“Sparrow“ Captain Connor growled through gnashing teeth.

You were sure there was unease sparkling through his bitter gaze. After Sparrow just sunk his ship the default hostility of Connor's gaze wouldn't suffice.

“I'd tell yer men to stop threatenin' me, if I were you“ the man with brown dreadlocks and a tricorn hat suggested, leaning closer to Connor in a provocative way.

With so many weapons pointed at him, he did not seem to feel threatened in the slightest. Fearless, even.

If you were to die, maybe you would at least be able to watch this disgusting men around you bite the stranger pirate's bullet first.

Sparrow backed up again, now circling the two men in charge of the Sinister Lady's crew instead. “Luckily and conveniently, I happen to be me. Not you“ he added with a finger pointing at Connor then to himself, the perilous tone gone.

You fought the urge to giggle at the asynchrony of his words and gesture. After two months stripped of any joy, you felt an instant connection to the airy pirate.

“Lower yer weapons, damnit“. Connor finally gave the order, his honor clearly at stake.

A satisfied grin spread on Sparrow's handsome face when he clapped his hands together and rubbed them.

Weirdly, he was oozing pure dominance in the loose and relaxed way he composed himself. He was almost comfortable in this precarious situation.

Connor squinted his eyes at the man who had many colorful beads and silver charms woven within his braids.

“C'mon, what 'bout an accord? What do ye want?“.

You cocked your head slightly, confused by the way the usually so frigid and irreverent Captain acted in Sparrow's presence.

It pained you to know that he was somehow tamable and you had failed to do so all this time.

On the other hand, a shiver spread on your human thighs at the thought of what this Jack Sparrow must be capable of if a man like Connor obeyed him.

“The real question is; what do I not want? Right, Master Gibbs?“ Jack purred.

Another man, a little smaller with grey hair and chops, stepped out of the opaque ticket of the rainforest.

He scrutinized the crowd and eventually spotted you on the ground.

Your pupils widened at the unexpected eye contact before you tore them off him in a demure way - reluctant submissiveness that slaps, rusty chains and nights in the brig had taught you.

“Aye, cap'n“ the man, Master Gibbs, verbally agreed before you could feel his narrowed gaze on you once again.

“And wha' be it you don' want?“ Connor shot back, clearly growing impatient while his opponent seemed to revel in it even more.

“Me charts in the hands of another, you cowardly scallywag“ Jack finally dropped the playful façade again, his hand resting on the handle of his sword.

Connor swallowed behind a stone-like expression.

So all this was indeed about a chart... It must lead to some kind of fortune or riches, you thought, recalling the many treasures you were familiar with.

Only you would never tell a man about them. It was sister's law that a mermaid was to die rather than reveal the mysteries of the sea.

But were you still to obey their laws now that you were on your own?

“Tough! Went down with our ship ye sunk“ the first mate interfered, hatred dripping from his words like spit.

Jack just raised a brow, looking the man up and down like he was a bleating goat.

Once again you caught yourself at the brink of smiling.

“Who be you?“ he inquired, nodding in his direction with no urge to actually approach him.

Connor's head quickly turned to his first mate who was now overridden by his own boldness and approaching Jack with a bad idea.

“Tha one to tell ye bilge-sucking self that we don't have what ye want“ he began, a slur in his drunken voice “Send us to Davy Jones' locka or leave“.

Jack cocked his head, fingers twisting his mustache, as if considering what the man had just proposed.

“Meh... Am not leavin' just like that, says I-ahh“ the pirate Captain noted but his declaration ended in a huff when the first mate lunged at him.

You flinched, squeezing your eyes shut. Such kind of scenario wasn't new to you by now.

“Mother's love, Jack!“ Gibbs produced a pistol from his belt and didn't hesitate a second to shoot the wanton first mate.

Another shot rumbled through the rainforest, men were shouting and grunting.

At this point you were covering your ears with your hands, keeping your knees close to your chest. Chained and weakened outside your element, there was nothing you could do about the chaos anyway.

However, when the chains around your wrists began to rattle and draw blood again, you finally dared to look up.

Connor glared at you with painful defeat in his eyes. “Get up, beastie“ he snapped, his arm extending, ready to slap you across the face if you didn't obey fast enough.

But his arm got pulled down by Jack who appeared on Connor's side and was looking at you with what seemed like mesmerization.

And sorrow.

“I said release her not beat 'er“ Sparrow whispered in the Captain's ear, his deep tone an unmistakable threat. It set Connor's mouth in a hard line.

You stayed silent, not knowing if you were expected to say something while stunned by the prospect of the foreign pirate's words.

Did he mean it?

But why?

Mister Gibbs emerged from behind Jack, a rusty key ring in his rough hands.

“Human trafficking, the worst of sins it be“ he muttered when gently taking your wrists and sinking a big, black key in the lock of your chains.

Connor's face was twisted by many emotions, most of them shades of disarray and disgust. “She a monster. A whore of tha seas. No human“ he spat.

Gibbs frowned at the man's cruel words, their nature fueling his doing.

*click*

You couldn't suppress the beam of relief that spread on your face when the heavy chains slid from your hurt wrists for good.

“Ahhh“ Jack cooed, leaning down to catch your lowered gaze and giving you an equally gleeful smirk beneath raised brows “I tell ye what she is, mate“ he straightened his spine again, dragging your invested gaze up with him.

All the fear in your system evaporated.

“A gorgeous creature. And not deserving of yer wheelin' and dealin', savvy?“.

“Thank you, Mister Sparrow“ were the first cautious words you addressed to the mercurial yet friendly-looking pirate.

His smile became a crunched grimace, his pointer raised. “It's Captain, if you please“.

A silent 'oh' fled from your lips.

You didn't know what to do or say. But his gravelly chuckle at your confusion signaled that he had not taken any insult.

To your right Connor spread his arms, sighing.

“I did wha' ye asked. Now let us go“ he complained, his authority crumbling before the eyes of his crew.

Gibbs nudged Jack's side, his eyes mentioning to the trail where they initially came from.

“Actually, I don’t. And settin' her free was just what the high-up people call common courtesy“ Jack sauntered past Connor, his head high, savoring his honorable, non-piratey act.

But you didn't fail to see a hint of pain in his extravagant display.

Was he hurt? The smell of blood told you yes.

“You, missy“ he suddenly called out to you, his dark eyes crawling all over your human body, squinting at the many bruises “Remember this as the day that Captain Jack Sparrow saved a mermaid“.

The charming pirate winked before gesturing to the lake. An invitation to take your freedom back.

At first, your steps were hesitant as you weaved past the crew members that had treated you like shit for the past two months. Nevertheless, enthusiasm was quick to infiltrate your veins when the sparkling water surface came closer.

You looked back one last time, seeing how Jack Sparrow offered you a warm smile of farewell before resigning to deal with Connor.

“What'r ye waitin' for, lass? The lake leads to the ocean through tunnels beneath“ Gibbs ripped your attention from the man whose husky voice would linger in your mind.

“You have my eternal gratitude“.

And with a quick dive you were gone.

The water felt like heaven's sweetest redemption engulfing your dried out body. Replaced by your tail, the unfamiliar sensation of having legs vanished.

It wasn't that you disliked them, but the circumstance of learning to walk could have been more pleasant.

Eventually, you got yourself back; your essence and courage.

What Jack did to those men didn't bother you in the least. Whether he killed them or let them live to return to your furious buyer without a mermaid...

They were pure evil. So were your sisters but never you.

Gibbs was right.

You ended up in a coral reef after swimming through narrow underwater tunnels that were carved in the islands volcanic landmass.

With your tail flailing and pushing your upper body above the surface, you looked around only to spot the ship with black sails half a mile away.

The sight of your bold rescuer and Master Gibbs in a dinghy made you smile. Him and his crew were returning to their ship.

You wondered where they would head next... what adventures this mysterious man had lived and was yet to have.

Curiosity got the better of you so you dived down, rapidly making your way to the longboat.

At least you would like to thank him one last time. It was more than in order after only hell knew what tribulations he had saved you from.

“Captain Sparrow?“ you gingerly called out for him, not wanting to startle the men to death.

“Aye?“ you heard his taken-aback question, seeing him turn and twist his upper body to find you; the source of this dulcet mermaid voice.

It made you laugh. Freely, now that no one would harm you again.

A member of his crew, missing one eye, poked Jack's arm and pointed out to where you floated in between gentle waves.

The pirate Captain's handsome face lit up with the same wide grin as it did after he had told Gibbs to unchain you.

“I see, haven't returned to yer sisters yet. Why's that?“ he queried, gold teeth reflecting the Caribbean sun's evening light.

“Have not“ you smiled, swimming closer and gripping the rim of the dinghy to keep yourself steady “I wanted to thank you again. Properly. For saving my life“.

The pirate gave a quick chuckle, waving off as if it was nothing.

To you it was everything.

Jack gently lifted your right hand from the wood, hoisting it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your wet skin. His lips were surprisingly soft and the beard tickled.

You giggled, enjoying his playful chivalry.

“Me, I'm a bad man, Missy. But a monster I'd be if I let an innocent, pretty woman suffer“.

Your giggle became a genuine beam. Fleeting was the worry what he might think of your fangs.

Master Gibbs cleared his throat, earning a slightly annoyed look of 'not now' by his Captain, whose gaze flickered back to you.

Another man, chubby with a few long, thin hair pushed Gibbs to the side as he spoke up “Don't let yerself be charmed by 'er, Cap'n. She's a mermaid!“.

The worried man's voice was filled with scepsis, still he awkwardly tried to shoot you a polite smile across the lines. It reminded you that no matter Jack's behavior, you were still to earn the crew's trust.

“Is there a way I could return the favor of saving me?“ you asked the Captain, your face twisted in guilt.

Jack disliked the way this emotion weighed heavy on your stunning face. But he couldn't think of something, so he remained silent.

A rare thing to happen for the witty Captain, as Gibbs realized.

Carefully, your tail began to flap and you pushed the dinghy towards the imposing, dark pirate vessel.

“Whoa! What's that?!“ it blurted out of one of the crewman, whose grip around the edges of the boat clawed.

It only spared them a bit of muscle power but it was the first 'helpful' thing your nervous mind came up with.

The Captain, who had his fingers playing with his braided beard, thinking, now pointed at the chubby man, calling him out.

“See?“ he began with a victorious shrug of his shoulders “Not vicious at all“.

Another quiet chuckle left your lips at his quirky nature.

Jack Sparrow seemed anything but a bad man.

As you arrived at the stern of the ship where the lines were cast for the crew to climb back up, Jack signaled them to go on.

“All hands, weigh anchor!! Get 'er ready to make way“ his commandeering tone sent an interesting ripple down your scales.

He turned his attention back to you, naturally making you smile again.

“Ye know, lass, there ain't no debt to be paid or anything. Mark me words“ he noted, his dark, mysterious eyes dwelling on your soft gaze.

Your mouth opened, but closed again as you reconsidered.

The Captain watched you intently, the corners of his eyes crinkled more and more with every second of looking at your face framed by wet, wavy hair.

“What about the chart you so desired?“ you ended up asking, the idea of you searching the wreck for him spreading in your keen mind.

But Jack shook his head, the charms and pearls in his dreadlocks jingling.

“Lassie, the ship exploded when we attacked. The chart's burnt to nothin' but ashes“.

The excitement of doing him a favor sunk at his words, dragging the corners of your mouth along.

Suddenly, you felt the back of Jack's hand grazing your cheek. Your eyes shot up. The memories of being mistreated were too fresh for your instincts not to be alerted.

However, the rough hand stilled, an unspoken ask for consent in the pirate Captain's underlined eyes.

You granted him a smile, weirdly relishing in the sensation of his touch. So different to what you were used to by now.

So... good.

“Believe you me, it be satisfaction enough to know that this rat Connor will be returnin' to Blackbeard empty-handed, savvy?“ he snickered, ignoring the stinging in his hand.

Not really listening to his words, you slowly found yourself the one who was enchanted.

But then there was this smell again...

Your nostrils flared as you realized it was his hand that had been cut by Connor's nasty first mate. Bastard. It reminded you of the times he had slapped or yanked you like a doll.

Without Sparrow you would have just given up any hope someday.

Just speaking what was on your mind at that moment, you softly took his hand in yours.

“It would mean the world to me if I could return the favor of saving me“ you explained, eyes trained on the deep, bleeding cut in Sparrow's palm.

“You've proven I can trust you with my live even though I am, -was, no one to you“.

The pirate let you examine his wound, not feeling the slightest urge to pull away.

On the surface of his mind it vexed him how vulnerable he allowed himself to be with you, given he barely knew anything about you other than what you were.

But deep down he felt a blooming connection; trust as you said.

“Aye? Ye think me trusty?".

Slowly, giving him time to adjust to the burn of salt water in an open wound, you guided his hand to dip into the ocean.

With brows furrowed, mouth agape, Jack watched what you did as if spellbound.

“Yes...“ you affirmed, joy dancing across your heart when Jack's eyes sparkled at the sight of his wound now gone. “I have nowhere to go anyway. My sisters have betrayed me so they surely won't miss me“.

As you set his hand free, the pirate's pupils quickly narrowed on his wet palm, twisted it in the rays of sunlight as if the wound could be hidden by an inconvenient shadow.

“Wha' ?“.

“It's truly gone, Jack“ you giggled, not realizing how you had impulsively addressed him.

But he did, guiding his attention back to you and wearing a flirty smirk.

Maybe it was the right thing to give in to your request, he thought, admiring the way the entire beauty of the ocean laid within your smile.

“Well...“ he began to propose, standing up on the somewhat rickety dinghy to offer you his healed hand “if yer so keen on squarin', bonny, what say you to joinin' me crew for a while?“.

Almost reflexively, you accepted his hand.

The allure of a new, fresh start spread in your system when the Captain intertwined your fingers with his.

“I owe you after all, Captain Sparrow“ you grinned.

He gave a light-hearted chuckle before throwing his head back and shouting for his crew to haul the lines.

You let out an unbridled cry of joy as Jack pulled you in his arms and the crew hauled the two of you on board in a swift, fast move.

When the absence of water began to take it's toll on your body, you panicked in realization of your impending state of undress.

“I got ye, wait“ the Captain murmured when he set you down and slid his brown jacket off, revealing a loose white shirt that complimented his tanned torso.

The jacket was long enough to cover you all the way to your knees and had golden buttons to close it with. So very unlike the mere rags Connor had given you.

“Thank you“.

“Anytime. We still need to fetch ye a dress or somethin'. Master Gibbs?“ he called out only to be startled by his first mate already lingering close.

A conflicted look settled on his face as he stared at you through squinted eyes.

Then, he leaned over to Jack, voice lowered “Cap'n, ye know it's frightful bad-“

“Nonsense!“ the Captain promptly cut him off, patting his back with vigor.

“It's only bad luck if ye believe in trifles such as luck, and see bad in the lass in question but, as things look, firstly, am not enough a fool to buy into luck and, secondly-“ he interrupted his wordy excuse and gestured to you with a wink “don't tell me yer eyesight has worsened 'cause she's just a darlin'.“

Although, his winding, quick speech prompted confusion, you couldn't stop your lips from smiling.

This man was unlike anyone you had ever encountered; witty, affectionate and yet erratic.

You were already enraptured by his nature.

Out of the blue, the Captain turned on his heels to face you anew, eyes narrowed. “Missy, do you have a name?“ he queried in a low tone to which you hesitantly shook your head.

Names were uncommon among your sisters.

However, before shame could overtake your expression, Jack's face lit up with an idea.

“Oi! You lousy landlubbers-“ he called out to his crew, the authority infusing his voice with a rasp “Welcome Bonny as she'll be sailin' with us for a while“.

“AYE“ the crew quickly echoed back.

Many pairs of excited eyes rested on you, heads nodding appreciatively what you returned with a shy but positive smile.

Absentmindedly stepping back, you felt Jack's warm hand ghosting the small of your back, the other one already tight on the wheel.

With a sigh of relief and the bright feeling of security, you leaned in, accepting his gentle grip on your waist. His protectiveness was incredibly pacifying.

Looking back it the extraordinary Captain, you saw his gold teeth flash in a proud grin before he spoke up again.

“And no one's touchin' her. She's mine, savvy?“.

Feeling hot blood rush into your cheeks, you instinctively let your weight shift backwards until your back rested against his chest.

“We shall see about that, Captain“ you snickered, already feeling the ocean breeze blow your hair as the Black Pearl gained speed.

Unbeknownst to you, a playful pout reigned over Jack's face before it got replaced with the pure thrill of anticipation.

Hunger for the yet-to-be-found and yet-to-be-done.

It was even more intense this time with you by his side; a wondrous, genuine soul who trusted him just so.

After all the bad and lawless he had done, he was still a good man.

After all the bad and dull you had endured, a spirit of adventure was still in you.

A spirit you never thought you carried but there you were, settling a debt with Captain Jack Sparrow.

You began to hope it would take you a lifetime.

The many charms in his hair chimed when he leant down to your level, his mouth a mere inch from your ear. “Ever heard of the Amulet of Ponce de Léon's wife?“ his husky voice asked, eyes shifting from the horizon to you.

Sliding him a knowing, lively glance, you curled your lips up before they parted and whispered “I have, Captain. What do you want to know?“.

“First, I wan' ye to know that for you, it's just Jack...“

Off to stranger tides... Thank you for reading my hearties ❤︎

tags: @holdmytesseract @mochie85 @socksracoon10 @goldencherriess @chronicallybubbly @kcd15 @always-on-hiatus @groovyqueer

[mncxbe]

Chuuya, Dazai, Nikolai, Akutagawa and Sigma(no need for all of them just do whichever ones you want) with a reader who is incredibly sassy, like reader is borderline about to get harrased but is still so chill and sassy like "Respectfully fuck off, and fuck yourself on a chainsaw so you get massacred In half so no one has to see your disgraceful behaviour anymore"

Omg I love this so much girlboss reader supremacy. Also I had to use your line there it was just too good. Enjoy♡♡

// sidenote I'm working on all your requests so even if it takes a bit longer for me to post, just know I'll do it eventually. Love y'all♡

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8:37◇

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂, 𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff/ silly

𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂

it's either the best or the worst combination

he absolutely adores how bold you are and how you always stand up for yourself

but he sometimes wishes you needed him a little bit more

Chuya loves drinking wine; that's something everyone is aware of. What many people didn't know however is that the redhead also attended almost every wine tasting in town, especially the ones held by you, his darling girlfriend.

He relished that hour spent listening to you presenting each wine on the menu with such grace and passion. Naturally, your boyfriend knew how hard you worked to become a sommelier and was truly proud of you; the wine tastings held by you were the best he ever attended.

The only aspect that sometimes ruined the serene atmosphere of the tasting was... well, other men. Oh how he hated the way they fawned over you, utterly unaware that your boyfriend was sitting right next to them. This wouldn't even be such a problem if they didn't make filthy comments about you; but some of them really went overboard.

That night an especially repulsive attendant kept making snarky comments about you. Chuya could barely contain his anger when the man slapped your ass as you bent over to pour him some wine; the only thing that kept him from killing that bastard was the promise he made to you: that he wouldn't interrupt your show no matter what.

He simply gripped the armrests of his chair as the man burst out laughing.

With a smug smile on your face, you took the glass you just poured and handed it to the man.

"If you ever do that again I'll break this glass and shove the shards up your penis. Understood?" you said in a sweet voice, causing the man to quiver. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and quickly straightened his back, uttering an apology.

Chuya's lips curled into a grin upon hearing your words. When he caught your gaze as you poured some wine to the man sitting opposite to him, he gave you a quick wink. Proud, he was so proud.

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊

you're equally sassy and he loves that

the two of you bring the best and worst out of one another but it's always so much fun

lowkey gets turned on when you say daring stuff

"Bella" groaned Dazai as you pulled him off of his chair "I've danced enough for tonight. My feet hurt"

"Nonsense love. Come on you know I love this song."

You slowly pulled your boyfriend towards the centre of the room. The underground bar you were currently at allotted a few square meters to a dancing area and of course, after a few drinks you wanted to dance too. Naturally, Dazai obliged you but it was currently midnight and you still wanted to keep going.

Not that he minded it that much; after all, what better way to spend the evening than being able to touch every inch of your body while the two of you swayed peacefully to a slow song?

After a few more songs you agreed to go back to the table.

"Hold on dear I'll go to the bathroom real quick" said your boyfriend as he gave your hand a little squeeze.

Much to his surprise when he retured from the toilet you were resting against the wooden table with a man hunched over you. His right arm was slowly making its way to your waist but you seemed utterly unfazed. As he walked closer, Dazai could hear the man talk to you.

"Come on pretty I know you want this. You've been tempting me all night long with those moves of yours."

Dazai could feel his blood boiling when he heard the man's daring words. He quickly walked closer just as you pushed the man away.

"In the most direspectful way, fuck off and fuck yourself on a chainsaw so you get massacred in half so no one has to see your disgraceful behaviour anymore you pathetic excuse of a man." you said in an angry voice.

The man, vexed by your words, turned his back to you and walked away, putting his middle finger up.

"Well bella I didn't know you could talk like that." said Dazai as he walked by your side.

"That asshole deserved it. The nerve I cannot believe it." you stated as you rolled your eyes, seemingly annoyed by the events that just took place.

"He truly did but love, don't let that man spoil the mood tonight. Besides..." he said as he took your soft hand in his and gently kissed it without breaking the eye contact. "The night is still young. How about we go home so I can cleanse you of that man's touch?"

"That's actually a good idea Osamu" you giggled as you drank the last sip of your drink and made your way up the flight of stairs, towards the exit.

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂

your sass and fiery attitude perfectly match his calm and composed demeanour

you're like the sun to his moon fr

he loves you a lot but sometimes you're a bit too much for him to handle. please be gentle.

Sigma marched into the room, his heels clicking on the marble floor. It was quite common for him to be summoned in the gambling area whenever a player was caught cheating or when a conflict escalated into a fight; but he never expected a case of sexual harassment.

As he approached the group of people with a stern look on his face he caught a glimpse of your figure. You were leaning against a table, a look of obvious annoyance on your face.

"What's going on here?" he asked calmly.

Your head snapped in his direction. "Oh darling here you are. I was just asking this fine gentleman here to leave the premises of the casino."

"Oh shut it bitch. What reason do you have to kick me out?" spat a man from the crowd as he stepped forward. His tie was loose and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone; by the glassy tint of his eyes Sigma could tell that he was really drunk.

"I saw you touching multiple women tonight, me included. This type of behaviour is not tolerated in our casino." you replied in a flat voice.

The man only grew more furious; he took step towards you, shoving a fat finger in your face. The golden rings on his hand caught the light of the chandeliers.

"And since when are you entitled to tell me what to do, huh? Didn't know you were the manager."

His words only fueled your rage and before Sigma could say anything, you slapped the man's hand away.

"Listen to me old man. Either you get out of here now or you stay." A wild grin rose to your lips as you continued speaking "But I will cut off those dirty hands of yours. And don't worry about the manager, I'm sure he'll approve of my actions, right darling?"

The man turned his face in Sigma's direction only to see him nod in agreement.

"I do, darling. Just try not to stain the carpet."

The perpetrator froze for a moment before mumbling a string of curses under his breath. He quickly stumbled out of the room.

Left with no other form of entertainment the crowd dissipated, leaving you and Sigma alone.

Your boyfriend exhaled deeply, the stern austere mask he put on crumbling. "Please never make me say that again, love" he said in a hushed voice, gaining a low chuckle from you.

"I know I'm sorry honey. Promise I won't." You closed the distance between the two of you and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "But thank you for helping me out"

Snaking a hand around your waist, Sigma pulled you into a side hug. "Of course darling. I just don't want that man to make any complaints."

"Don't worry about that dear" you said with a sly smile on your face, your eyes glimmering with mischief. "After all, you're the manager."

[cherigu]

— ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Confessions!

Genre: smut, best friends / roommates to lovers Pairing: sub!jeongguk x softdom!reader Word Count: 3.7k Warnings: light angst, mutual pining, emotional constipation, grinding, begging, praising, finger sucking, blowjob, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, virginity loss, riding, jk cums inside Note: this is part 2 of lessons. it can be read as a stand-alone, but the plot may require context

The one thing Jeongguk had never done, was take the moments with you for granted. He learned to cherish the times you spent together and held them near and dear to his heart, for the memories were sure to live with him forever. He absorbed every detail and engraved it deep into his mind.

A beautiful day at the beach. The way your healthy, radiant skin glowed from underneath the sun. Soft hands gently smoothing the sunscreen onto his skin because you wanted him to be protected. The angelic sound of your laughter after splashing him with the warm, salty ocean water. Everything about your friendship was perfect.

Now, guilt viciously gnawed at his heart, sending painful stings throughout his whole body. With every second passed he reminisced the times when the two of you actually had a real friendship.

It’s not like the two of you had fallen off, the dynamic of the bond had simply shifted to something unrecognizable, something his younger self would’ve scoffed at and found impossible of ever happening. He especially hated how it had been his fault that everything went downhill. He never meant for it to get like this, unfortunately, he let his emotions get the best of him. 

What were meant to be simple lessons, had become a usual occurrence. The late-night talks had been long overshadowed by thick clouds of lust, with the two of you exploring each other’s bodies instead of minds.

He was sure neither of you still considered these nights “tutoring” anymore, more so a shitty excuse to get each other off whenever needed. Though the two of you had never gone all the way, being intimate with you was something he had only dreamed of.

But why was it that instead of feeling closer to you, he felt farther? Because he had chosen to be selfish. He chose to run as far away from you as possible, all while being tangled in your sheets for the night.

Your touch was like a drug, so addictive, and always left him craving more. It was at that point that he knew he had to save himself. He began to distance himself from you emotionally, knowing that you’d likely run back to your fruitless hookups and leave him longing for you. If he ran, you wouldn’t be able to hurt him from afar.

What he didn’t know is that ever since that day, your old habits had been finally put to rest. Unhealthy dependencies on other men to suppress the feelings you had towards your Jeongguk had become repulsive to you. Never daring to even breathe another man’s air, your mind had become fully dedicated to Jeongguk.

You no longer stood in denial about how you felt about Jeongguk, you had feelings for him and that was for sure. The only problem now was the growing distance between the two of you he seemed to establish. You knew it shouldn’t hurt. He was clear about what he needed, help. Now that he had gained experience, it was only a matter of time before he stopped seeking your aid.

You had considered talking to him, maybe something else was bothering him? Or maybe you were trying to deny the obvious once again. The last thing you wanted was to cross lines and make him uncomfortable, he never had been good at expressing himself after all. Asking him about something that only seemed to be affecting you felt selfish, and you’d rather not put him through unnecessary pressure.

He, on the other hand, had planned to talk to you sooner or later. He knew it was something he couldn’t avoid, the conversation would come up one way or another. Whether you initiated it, or he did. Had you even noticed a difference?

Anytime he tried to bring up the topic, he’d find himself at a loss for words. There were many ways to approach this situation, but none of them felt right. Whichever he’d end up choosing, he knew it’d cost him a little bit of his pride and a lot of mental courage.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

For the nth time that night, he got up to the kitchen. He’d turn on the tap and let it run for a bit, pretending he was doing nothing more than getting a glass of water. The truth was he wasn’t even thirsty, the trips to the kitchen were a mere strategy to walk by your room and see if you were still awake.

Although it was late he knew you were a night owl, but still the gap between the floor and your door showed no signs of light. Just as he was about to return to bed and call it a night, he heard the faint sound of music playing, and he then knew that you were probably still on your phone. 

He took the chance to go up to your door, stopping before his hand came in contact with the wood. He still didn’t know what he’d say but if he waited until he knew how to talk about his feelings, he’d never speak.

The sound of barely-there knocks stirred your attention away from the video you were currently watching, to the door. “Jeongguk?” You asked, knowing it couldn’t be anyone else other than him but still confused as to why he was up so late.

“Yea” He whispered, “Can I come in?”

“Of course Gukkie” You sat up from the comfortable lying position you had previously been in to welcome him. Jeongguk took a few steps inside your dark room before stopping to admire the view he had been presented with.

The dim light of the moon spilled into your room, illuminating nothing other than the most beautiful person in there. He felt his brain short-circuit and conveniently knock the words out of his mouth just from simply seeing you in your pajamas.

The rise of your shorts exposed the smooth skin of your plump ass he loved grabbing so much, knowing it fit into his large hands every time. Right beneath it was your thighs, so plush and soft, made for him to be buried in between. Finally, your soft tummy he never missed a chance to kiss. Every inch of you was so perfect to him, no one would be able to admire you as much as he did. 

He snapped back into reality at the sound of your voice “Is everything okay?” to which he simply hummed in return. “Come sit” You contrasted your worried expression with a warm smile, patting the empty spot next to you. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t a bit concerned. Apart from not sounding too convincing, he looked tense and hesitant, like something was bothering him. 

“ ‘m okay” He whispered while sitting down, sensing your unease. “Good” You simply said and looked at him, unsure if you should say anything else or wait for him to continue. Nothing. Silence engulfed the room while you stared at his low-hanging head. “Gukkie..” You began, noticing his odd body language. It was then that he cut you off, not that you really know what you were going to say in the first place.

“I- I umm– have something to tell you” He started, still avoiding eye contact. “Okay,” You replied, letting him know you were all ears. Silence consumed the room once more, but it wasn’t long before he met his gaze with yours. The words bubbled in his throat, ready to spill. He tried to take a moment to recollect his mind and properly communicate his feelings, but before he was able to form a coherent thought, his mouth acted on its own.

“I have f-feelings for you” He admitted, cheeks beginning to tint pink as he fondled with his fingers. He found it easier to avoid your eyes this time, only being strong enough to look at you when he said it the first time. But now that he heard nothing come from your end, he wished for the ground to swallow him whole. 

Meanwhile, the timing couldn’t have been so wrong on your end. Despite your best friend being vulnerable in front of you about how he felt, the heat that rushed to your core was inevitable. Who could resist a shy, stuttering boy who had just confessed? Not you for sure. You’d definitely give this conversation time, another night when the air isn’t so hot because right now, the only thing on your mind was him and his cock in your mouth

You raised your right hand out to his chin, gently lifting his face with your pointer finger while your thumb caressed the boiling skin of his cheek. “Is that so?” You teased, wanting to hear him talk more. “Yea– always have” He choked back a little, feeling insanely flustered under your dark gaze. “Y-you don’t have to tell me how you feel right now, just uhh– take your ti-” 

His voice got caught in his throat when you removed your thumb from his cheek and tapped it on his bottom lip, signaling him to open up. He knew this gesture all too well, body working on its own as your thumb entered his mouth while his lips closed around it. “Shhhh” you tilted your head, “How about.. Instead of telling you how I feel, I show you” 

Your free hand landed on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat and ragged breathing underneath your palm. “Hm?” You pushed your thumb slightly deeper, causing his eyes to become glazed with tears. Although he couldn’t speak, he frantically nodded for you to continue.

Any sort of embarrassment for his earlier confession had melted into pure arousal. Your thumb in his mouth and hand on top of his semi-hard made his mind grow blank, needing nothing but the feel of your touch all over him.

You decided to pull your thumb away, asking him to verbally confirm it was okay for you to continue, to which he responded with a desperate "yes." You took this as your cue to pull his face close to yours, desperately attacking his lips with everything you had. Exploring his mouth like a starved woman, situating yourself on top of Jeongguk’s lap to softly grind down onto his cock until it was fully erect.

“Feels good r-right there” He pulled away to whisper, loving how your clothed core rubbed against his hard-on. “I haven’t even started yet baby” You chuckled, digging your hands through his fluffy locks before harshly pulling him back into your lips. Nipping gently at his bottom lip, you took the chance to press down harder onto his lap.

The sensitive whines that slipped from your boy’s lips were all it took for you to halt your movements with a final kiss, stepping down from his lap onto your knees. You decided to not take longer than you needed, knowing he was most likely aching by now. With hurried movements, you removed his sweats and underwear in one go to release him.

His length proudly sprung out, reddened tip hitting his lower abdomen in the process. The precum that had leaked was smeared all over his tip, presumably from the grinding earlier. You took him into your hand to pump him a few times, lowering your head down to leave a trail of kisses up his thigh before hearing his desperate plea.

“Y/n, please…” He slurred, lifting his hips up from the mattress to chase your mouth with his cock, needing the lips he loved so much wrapped around him.

“So needy, should I give my good boy what he wants?” You tutted, slapping his cock against your bottom lip teasingly. “Mmhm, promise ‘ll be good all night just for you” He breathed out at the lack of movement on your end. “And how will you do that baby?”

The question was short-lived as Jeongguk was quick to dip his hand, swiftly pushing your shorts to the side only to discover you had no panties on. Not only did that turn him on even more, but it made his job easier to slowly rub your arousal all over your soaked cunt.

Your voice broke out into a long moan, both at the surprise and pleasure of the situation. “Like this” He used two fingers to spread your folds, massaging the middle while slightly prodding at your hole. Your hunger for him grew when he began to enter you, causing your body to jerk towards him and simultaneously take him into your mouth.

You started with his tip, rubbing your tongue onto his sensitive spot before moving it to run along the bottom of his shaft. The pants that left his parted lips only motivated you to do more, as well as the curl of his fingers inside of you.

Wrapping your lips fully around his tip, you sunk down as far as you could down his shaft, making sure to take him into your throat. Jeongguk’s hand stuttered, freezing as he felt your throat constrict around him. Still, he continued to pump in and out of you to feel the vibrations of your moans coarse through his skin.

Slightly pushing farther down, you gagged around his veiny shaft before pulling back up. “Such a big cock” you muttered, lifting your hand to cup his balls and lightly fondle them. He fought the pleasure to reply to you, broken voice letting out a breathy “yours” before throwing his head back while moaning.

You continued to toy with his balls for a moment while he played with your puffy pussy. The way his fingers grazed the spongy tissue inside of you had your toes curling in anticipation for release.

Sinking back down, you bobbed your head up and down with a pace similar to the one he had established with his fingers. Speaking of, your core was beginning to grow hot. The pit in your stomach was overtaken by a hot coil ready to snap at any moment.

You never faltered to slow down regardless, taking his length into your throat with the occasional swirl of your tongue. Making sure to gag around him as much as possible, you knew it made him all weak for you. His balls began to tighten in your hand along with his thighs going tense under your free hand. Hollowing out your cheeks, you met his eyes with yours as he came back up to watch you fasten your movements. 

“Ah, w-wait, ‘m gonna cum” He stuttered, struggling to say the words. All of his senses had died out, no longer being able to focus on anything but your sweet mouth working so well around him. You lifted your head to speak, not planning on wasting much time before getting back to work.

Sliding a hand down your shorts onto your clit, you began to massage the swollen nub to add to the friction of his fingers. “Me too baby, cum in my mouth, yea? Said you’d be good for me” You panted, ready to sink back down before he spoke again. “Wait”

“Wanna be inside of you, please” He pleaded with his big, glossy doe eyes that made it hard to say no to, not like you were planning on doing so anyway. 

“Are you sure Gukkie?” You asked taken aback, feeling dizzy at the thought of finally being able to take his fat cock inside of you, but needing reassurance first. “Yes, yes, please, wanna be inside of you, y/n, pleasee” He whined, feeling his cock throb in desperate need of release.

Satisfied with his answer, you wasted no time climbing back onto his lap, quickly discarding your shorts. Since it was his first time, you wanted to make this easier for him, so you’d take control. 

He positioned himself to lean his head back against the headboard, feeling your exposed cunt rest on top of his cock. Taking advantage of the leaking arousal from both parties, you experimentally slid up and down his cock to keep the orgasms at bay.

Taking his face into your hands, you gave him a quick reminder before starting. You stared at his pretty glassy eyes and swollen lips, parted to release breathy whines while he gripped at your hips. “If at any moment you want to stop, or something doesn’t feel right, let me know, okay love?" You whispered. “M’kay” He replied softly, ready for what he’d been waiting for forever. 

Taking his cock into your hand, you gently positioned him along your entrance, slowly sinking down onto him. “Fuck Jeongguk” Despite having some experience up your sleeve, Jeongguk definitely has to be the biggest. It was going to take a while to adjust to his size, so you decided to wait before starting any movement at all. As for Jeongguk, the adam's apple on his throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly and squeezed his eyes shut. “Breathe, ‘m with you, baby” 

Your sweet voice helped him regain composure, nodding at you in confirmation that he was okay to begin. Catching on, you squeezed his waist with your thighs on either side, making it easier to support yourself as you slowly began to bounce on his cock.

He was long enough to hit the right spots and girthy enough to rub along your walls deliciously. He became increasingly vocal as he felt your velvety walls flutter around him. “N-not gonna last, y/n” He warned, feeling your pace pick up once you both had adjusted to the new sensations.

“Im close too Gukkie, don't– ah, worry about t-that” You panted, leaning down to kiss the worries away from the visible frown on his forehead. Knowing he was feeling good put you at ease, enough to experiment with a harder pace, not too fast, but one that had his cock pushing deeper inside of you.

His abs flexed underneath you, warning you that he’d spill soon. He felt overwhelmed in a good way, he never though it could have ever gotten better from your mouth or hands. Feeling the wetness cream around the base of his cock everytime you bounced had his vision growing white and breath cutting short.

Aside from what he felt, seeing your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure was a sight that tipped him more over the edge within the second. He could no longer think, letting the words come out of his mouth on their own.

“Wanna cum inside you y/n, let me cum inside please” He cried, knowing he was close to his orgasm. “Need to c-cum, inside… inside” He babbled, letting the hot tears fall down his cheek without shame.

“S-shit, my baby’s taken me so well, I think he deserves it, hm?" You asked, never missing a beat, especially now more than ever. “Yes! Yes, please” He chanted, “Faster” 

The ringing in your ears from your incoming climax prevented you from hearing him, fastening your pace nevertheless as you chased your orgasm. The knot in your stomach began to untangle, feeling the white heat crawl up your body and take over your senses. The only thing you could afford to do right now was a plea.

“Im cumming, shit baby cum with me, fill me up and cream my pussy like the good boy you are” You slurred, bouncing on his cock rapidly while your orgasm coursed through your veins.

Your words were all it took for Jeongguk to begin shooting his thick, white ropes of cum into you. His damp face looked so pretty underneath you, sweat lightly coating his forehead and tears running down his cheeks. His pretty whines began to form into words as he mindlessly began to speak through his high, “Love you, love you, fuck, I love you, y/n” He cried out, feeling his cock grow numb from overstimulation. 

This isn’t the way he planned on telling you, but he couldn’t do much about the strong feeling that overcame him as he finished inside of you, his body enveloped with your own. His mind was empty with nothing but you, you, and you. 

On the other hand, you smiled like an idiot at his confession. After coming down from your high, you dropped your body on top of his, not bothering to slip him out just yet. His breathing was still heavy and his skin felt like it was on fire, so you gently wiped the hair out of his face and kissed his cheek before taking him into your embrace.

“You okay, love?” you asked, feeling his body vibrate with a chuckle and his big arms wrap around your back in return. “Mhm,” he mumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed as the fog in his mind began to clear up. “Was that alright, did it feel good?” You continued to check in with him to be sure, but he had other things in mind. 

“Y/nnnnn” He whined, thinking you were taunting him. “What? Im just making sure!” You smiled, loving how easily he got flustered. “Why would you ever doubt that I felt good, I even overspoke at the end..” He moved his head to dig it into the crevice of your shoulder and neck, something he often did when he was embarrassed which you found cute. 

“Why are you so shy baby, is it ‘cause of that? ‘Cause you said I love you?” You brushed your fingers through his curly locks in a soothing manner, making sure he knew everything was okay despite your playful teases. “It was pretty cute actually”

“Still, didn’t mean to drop that on you so suddenly” He mumbled into your skin. You knew what the boy meant, he hadn’t even been able to properly talk to you about his feelings before he unknowingly spilled everything.

“Does it make a difference if I told you right now that I love you too?” 

His head snapped up at your words, looking directly into your eyes with knitted brows. “And, meant it?” You finished, making sure he knew you weren’t just playing along. His face slowly morphed into one of joy, eyes twinkling as they crinkled when his cute bunny smile began to form. “Really?” He asked, feeling your lips peck his own sweetly.

“Mhm, I love you too my sweet boy. How about we talk more in the morning, yea?”

“M’kay” he tightened his arms around you, feeling the need to hold you close to him tonight, and every night after that.

[yoongsisbae]

Bon Voyage: Into the Sea - Chapter 6

A storm capsized your boat and looks like you were the only survivor. Somehow you made it to shore, but where? Stranded, you suddenly find out you are not alone, and now you’re stuck in the middle of a centuries old conflict between 7 monsters.

BTS fantasy AU. OT7 x reader. werewolf!Namjoon x werewolf!Hoseok x werewolf!Jungkook x siren!Yoongi x vampire!Jimin x vampire!Jin x whatis?Taehyung.

If you enjoy this series and want more updates, please leave a comment or reblog!

Warnings: smutty content, mind control, blood-drinking cause vampire things, dubconish, light yandere, voyeur, lots of neck licking lol

Word count: 12.1k

---

“You are going to be the reason we all die.”

“Jimin, stop,” Jin says. “Dove, we need to know what Taehyung said to you,” he asks, much more diplomatically. 

You shake your head, trying to make your way closer to the vampires, but the men around you have made an impressive barrier. How are you going to explain the lost months you experienced, the things you witnessed in Jimin’s memory? You stare at the angry younger vampire, how are you going to convince Jimin to help you?

“Jimin, you need to bite me.”

“What?!”

-

“What did you do to her?!” Hoseok roars at the vampire in question, who looks equally as shocked and offended at the accusation. 

“Nothing!” you interject, but your words fall on deaf ears.

“He did something to her to make her act like this!” Hoseok yells louder, turning his frustrations onto his pack leader.

“She has been calling out to him since we found her,” Yoongi tells Namjoon, confirming Hoseok’s accusations.

“What?! What did you do!” Jungkook growls out. “I’ll kill you-”

“It’s my fault that she's obsessed with me?” Jimin crosses his arms, looking away like the entire display was beneath him.

“Do you want to stop Taehyung or not?!”

The men exchange looks. “We need a plan, a real one,” Yoongi says, dismissing you. “The longer we wait-”

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who furiously glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

“I told you! Jimin needs to bi-”

“No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Everyone, silence!” Namjoon bellows and a tense silence settles in the air.

You speak up first, desperate to make them understand you. “Jin, why exactly did you forbid Jimin to bite me in the first place? Huh? Why?!” you challenge him.

Everyone stares at the eldest, even the vampire in question himself. Seokjin’s finger runs over his forehead, moving a stray lock of hair back in place. He clears his throat, “I did not want to cause him any pain-”

“What do you mean pain?” Jimin asks, repulsed. “She can’t hurt me!”

You huff, “Your memories, Jimin, your life-”

“There are certain memories better forgotten,” Seokjin interjects.

“No, no,” you say shakily. You had wished to forget this place so many times locked up in the vampire’s lair, and then when you did, you lost more than just the memories, you lost yourself. “No.”

And Jimin, he too, is lost. 

You glance over to the defiant vampire. “You have to bite me, you’re the only one who can stop Taehyung!”

Jimin looks around at everyone’s concerned faces, growing more irritated. Why does he have to be the one to stop Taehyung? Jimin never agreed to even help! And what makes you even think he has that kind of power? 

“Why?” It was Hoseok who questioned you angrily, upset at the way you are treating Jimin with such fondness. “Why him?!”

“Because he knows magic,” you say simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I d-don’t know magic,” he spits out. You couldn’t be any more wrong, Jimin thinks, who the fuck do you think you are, acting like you know so much about him, better than himself!

But everyone is silent, eyes full of guilt and remorse, looking at him as if they know something he doesn’t. The kind of look that Jimin despises.

“You do,” you say with more conviction. “When you were human. I can show you.” You hold out your arm to him as the pack tries still to barricade your body away from the vampires.

“What is she talking about, Jin?” he turns to the eldest. 

“Jin, we don’t have time, you need to be honest with him!”

“Shut up! You are the reason we are even in this mess to begin with, you know that? Just how many times did we tell you to not get so comfy with Taehyung. You let him use you, because you’re weak, you’re-”

“And what about you?! You let Taehyung use you too, didn’t you?!” you scream, your anger getting the better of you.

“Stop!” Namjoon bellows, “Everyone, stop!” He looks furious with you, his hard glare instantly making you feel small and apologetic.

“Don’t order me around, you filthy beast!” Jimin hisses at Namjoon, deep and threatening, his eyes glowing with rage.

“We don't have time,” you whimper desperately. 

Your head is pounding. You feel it…

…inside of you, in the back of your mind…screaming, wrapping around your bones…

…the dread of something horrible coming for you all.

Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with the biggest of the idiots telling him the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard. It’s insufferable, you’re insufferable, the way you stare at him now. Whatever spell Taehyung inflicted on you has only changed you for the worse.

“Jimin, I’m afraid we need to work together on this.” The younger vampire yanks himself away from Jin’s comforting hand. He’s beginning to think Seokjin is equally to blame as much as you. He’s beginning not to trust him…

“I’m not fucking helping any of you,” he stares at you, glowering. “Let Taehyung tear you apart,” he growls, baring his fangs.

You shake your head in disbelief. “You wanted to be a doctor, you loved helping people, you became a medic in the military. You fought for your country, you saved people,” you ramble on and on, hoping to convince the vampire to listen to reason. You’re angry that no one has told him, they should have, this shouldn’t be coming from you!

Jimin yells, picks up and throws a wicker chair in your direction in his anger, which Jungkook stops with ease, the chair exploding when it hits the youngest’s shoulder.

Hoseok has had just about enough of Jimin, he hasn’t forgotten the scars he witnessed across your body, he hasn’t forgotten the way you looked so fragile when he found you. This was all the vampires’ fault, and Jimin most of all. That arrogant, cruel, deceptive little-

Hoseok transforms instantly, pouncing on Jimin.

Yoongi pulls you back as the others transform as well. You’re both thrown to the ground as they fight, as they tear the house apart from the inside, unable to cohabitate any longer.

You groan, rolling over, still attempting to get to the headstrong vampire, your hand pressing into broken glass and blood escaping.

At the smell it wasn’t Jimin, but Jin who lost control. So many days drinking from you, addicted in more ways than one. His eyes glow red, searching out your blood. 

Namjoon’s large snout sinks its teeth into the eldest vampire and the fighting only escalates tenfold. Everything is loud, everything is chaos. You try to keep moving closer to the chaos still, until you notice something familiar in front of you. 

You notice the redness of the gem that had fallen out of Yoongi’s pack in the chaos, now shining brighter than ever.

Oh no. You can feel it again, pulling you in. You shuffle backwards, clutching your chest, closing your eyes tightly as the gem burns brighter, glowing like the vampires’ eyes then glowing even more until it envelops the entire home.

-

“Do you all want to stop Taehyung or not?!”

The men exchange looks. “We need a plan, a real one,” Yoongi says, dismissing you. “The longer we wait-”

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

“I told you! Jimin needs to bi-”

“No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Everyone, silence!” Namjoon bellows and a tense silence settles in the air.

This is getting you nowhere. Good God, how are you supposed to make six stubborn beings listen to you?! Think, y/n. Think! You try to come up with a plan, but your head is throbbing in pain.

Jimin speaks up first, “Just what are you playing at, pet?”

You look up at him. “Pull my memories. You’ve already done it once. Just do it again.”

Seokjin looks over at the younger vampire in disbelief.

“I have not,” Jimin looks at you furiously for getting him in trouble over a lie. “She’s obviously suffering from some delusional episode! Listen, you wretched human girl! You’re nothing to me, you mean nothing, so stop these fantasies! right! now!”

“You have, and we saw your mother. You just, ugh, don’t remember because it happened in the future, ugh, just-” you groan, clutching your head. It’s pounding more than ever, and you feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. Your body starts shaking and Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist to steady you.

Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with the biggest of the idiots telling him the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard. His mother? You saw his mother? How dare you even talk about her! Like you know anything about her, like you know more than Jimin, who well, knows nothing about his mother…and he doesn’t care to know! 

Who the fuck do you think you are, acting like you know so much about him, better than himself! It’s insufferable, you’re insufferable. Whatever spell that Taehyung inflicted on you has only changed you for the worse. “See! She’s lost it,” he yells, pointing at you. “So weak!”

“Please, I’m not lying,” you cry out. You feel sick. You just want to save them, why won’t they listen to you?! Jungkook holds you tighter as your legs give out.

“What’s happening to her!” Hoseok looks over to his leader worriedly, holding onto your shoulders to keep you upright as you slump forward.

“I think it has something to do with this,” Yoongi pulls the red amulet from his pouch, holding the necklace up and letting it dangle for everyone to see.

“No!” You can’t stop it, it’s already starting again, the red glow emanating directly from the gem, covering everyone and everything in that same red hue, until that’s all you can see.

You clutch your chest, closing your eyes tightly as it burns brighter, until it envelops the entire home. 

-

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

“I told you! Jimin needs to bi-”

“No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Everyone, silence!” Namjoon bellows and a tense silence settles in the air.

You feel your stomach turn again. You feel winded, like you’ve been running. You massage your temples, wiping away the accumulating sweat. God, how are you supposed to make six stubborn beings listen to you?! Think, y/n. Think!

“Why?” Jungkook speaks first, voice full of pain. “Why Jimin out of all of us?” Your heart drops at his hurt expression. You don’t know the right way to explain to Jungkook, to all of them, why this needs to be done, especially now when your head feels like it’s about to explode. When did you become so jittery? What is happening?! You try to concentrate and think, but where do you even begin? 

“W-We all know the power they have, right?” You gesture to the vampires. “The way they can look into your memories when they…but Jimin has never bitten me,” technically that is correct in this point in time, “only Jin-”

“Yeah, and just why is that?” Jimin looks at the eldest vampire pointedly, crossing his arms, fed up with Seokjin’s obtuse answers. “Explain.”

Seokjin sighs, straightening the wrinkly shirt Namjoon had given him to wear. “It was for your protection,” he addresses Jimin.  

“Protection from what?!” Jimin asks, repulsed. “She can’t hurt me!”

“We don’t have time for this,” you mutter. You feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. “Seokjin, make Jimin bite me!”

“SEOKJIN DOESN’T MAKE ME DO ANYTHING,” Jimin roars. You couldn’t be any more wrong, Jimin thinks, who the fuck do you think you are, acting like you know so much about Seokjin, about him, better than himself!

“THEN JUST BITE ME!” You scream back. “You’ve been wanting to all this time!”

The pack watches you argue, stunned into silence. This is news to everyone else; Jimin hasn’t bitten you? And furthermore, Seokjin didn’t want him to bite you. Seokjin had found Namjoon and explained most of what happened, but not that. 

---

“Stay here, in case Hoseok returns.” That was a direct order from his pack leader, and as much as Jungkook wanted to disobey and run towards the thundering noise that had rattled their home, the older shapeshifter was leagues above the young wolf in strength and dominance.

It was luck that Namjoon encountered the pair of vampires instead of his brothers. If it had been anyone else, the vampires might not have made it out with their heads. But Namjoon was always the type to observe first, take everything in before making any rash decision, it’s what kept him alive this long and made Namjoon a leader.

Jin and Namjoon were talkers. They were, even in their wildest days, the best at beguiling, enticing, drawing in others with their words, and upon meeting, they realized they had finally met their match. Namjoon’s most favorite nights were conversations with Seokjin, picking apart the intricacies of the humanities. Two beasts had become obsessed with learning and gaining a humanity of their own.

Namjoon would have torn them apart otherwise. But the magical blasts had knocked the younger more confrontational vampire out, and Seokjin pleaded with Namjoon to listen to his story. “Taehyung has escaped.” With a start like that, Namjoon couldn’t resist not learning more.

With the sun soon rising and Taehyung out there somewhere, Namjoon had little options left but to invite the wounded vampires into his home.

While you were in another part of the island healing and trying to bridge the peace amongst two headstrong beasts, Namjoon and Seokjin were coming to their own kind of peace, a détente at least for the time being, an opportunity to speak to each other like old times now that they had a bigger enemy then themselves.

---

“Well now I don’t want to.” Jimin crosses his arms, looking away.

You look at him in disbelief. Ugh. This is driving you crazy, there is no time to be like this. ‘Fucking Jimin,’ he really knows how to push your last button. Fuck, you are so over this!

You think about the crying man on the floor, covered in your blood with a broken expression on his face, you think about that sweet boy, crying for his mother. Somewhere deep inside Jimin is that sweet boy who cried.

You look down at your nails with one last hope remaining. You’ll just have to make him drink from you.

You dig your nails into your forearm, scratching your skin as deep as you can. 

But it was Seokjin who lost control. So many days drinking from you, addicted in more ways than one. His eyes turning red, searching out your blood.

Fur envelopes you, Jungkook and Hoseok shielding you with their large canine bodies while Seokjin lunges for you, stopped short by Namjoon’s fangs.

Jimin throws the beast off the older vampire. Jimin, full of rage, tears his sharp nails into Namjoon’s coat. Yoongi screams for Jin, his influential words finally knocking him out of his blood stupor. Then he calls out to the younger vampire, “Jimin, stop.”

But Jimin is already too full of rage to listen to reason. He can’t stand being stuck in this idiot infested house any longer. It’s insufferable, you’re insufferable, the way you stare at him now. Whatever spell that Taehyung inflicted on you has only changed you for the worse! He should have never listened to Seokjin! He’s beginning not to trust him-

Seokjin addresses the two wolves next to you as the younger vampire lashes out. “Take her out of here, hurry!” he yells, attempting with difficulty to retain the younger vampire with Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s help. 

“No!” you scream at the top of your lungs, “You don’t understand!”

A deep growl from Jungkook frightens you into silence. His fangs are around your stomach, only holding you still, not puncturing into you, but it’s terrifying nonetheless as he yanks you backwards, his hind legs digging into the earth.

You cry once outside, unable to pull yourself together. You pull at Jungkook’s fangs, attempting to unlock his jaw from your side and the large beast begins to whimper in anguish at your attempts to flee from him, extinguishing the fight inside you.

Nothing is working! Nothing! It’s hopeless, you’re all going to die, you think, either by Taehyung’s hands or by each others. You cry harder into Jungkook’s fur, who has wrapped his large canine body around yours.

“…what?” You see it from the open door and your body acts on impulse as you claw at the ground, trying to move closer, uncaring if Jungkook’s teeth tear at your skin. Tears dry up as you watch the house start to glow red, brighter than anything you’ve ever seen before. 

No, that’s not quite true. You’ve seen that red glow befo-

-

“We need a plan, a real one,” Yoongi says, dismissing you. “The longer we wait-”

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks. “Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” you murmur to yourself. Jungkook and Jimin glance towards your way.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me…” you whisper. “Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him-”

“There is no telling what he is capable of now,” you say in unison to the leader, finally aware this is not just some strange case of deja vu. All eyes turn to you. Jimin scoffs, just like he did before, pulling on Seokjin’s shoulder. “...I-I want Jimin to bite me!” you yell. 

“No! No way in hell.” “No! No way in hell.”

“Oh I am going to kill you!” “Oh I am going to kill you!”

“What the hell are you doing?!” Jimin screams accusingly.

You look around, your gaze stopping on the eldest. “Seokjin, make Jimin bite me!”

“SEOKJIN DOESN’T MAKE ME DO ANYTHING,” Jimin roars. “Seokjin doesn’t make me do anything!” you yell back in unison, a satisfied smirk on your face, pointing directly at Jimin.

“How the fuck are you doing that?” the merman questions.

You rub your temples, trying to make sense of it all. ‘This happened before, why has this happened before? This has to be Tae’s doing!’ “I don’t know, I don’t know, but we’ve already had this conversation, and I-I think, I can’t remember, something must have went wrong...Jimin, you need to bite me, right now!”

“Well…” he clears his throat, looking around as everyone has gone deathly quiet, “now I don’t want to,” Jimin crosses his arms.

Ugh! ‘Fucking Jimin,’ he really knows how to push your last button.  “Listen, you’ve already done it once! Just just do it agai-wait, no, we did this already…something is wrong…” 

“Maybe it’s you!” Jimin accuses. “Taehyung has already gotten in her head, how can we trust her?” he warns the others.

“You’re...right!”

“Y/n?” 

“Jimin is right. I can feel him,” you shudder. “Which is why you need to bite me, because I know for certain, Taehyung doesn’t want you to.” You hold your hand to him.

“And if this is a trick?”

“Ugh, I’m not tricking you! I want to stop Taehyung for you, you idiot!”

‘Idiot’?! How dare you call Jimin an idiot, when you’re the biggest of the idiots in this idiot infested house! “And suddenly you have my best interest at heart?!” Jimin yells back, disgust evident.

Ugh, your head is killing you, and you feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. 

You try to think about everything that has transpired since you met Taehyung, trying to see if you missed anything-

“Wait, wait, wait…ugh, let me go!” you yell at the pack surrounding you. You press yourself against the door, opening it quickly and falling into the sand. 

You look up at the sky, taking a deep breath of fresh air to calm yourself. It’s still daytime, but not for much longer, and you’re scared of what night will bring.

Yoongi is by your side, lifting you up. “Y/n,” you think he is about to dismiss you like he always does, but instead he says, “tell me what I need to do to help you.”

“Yoongi...” You’ve never seen him so sincere before. “Do you think you can use your siren song on Jimin to-”

“I can hear you, pet! It doesn’t work! And I should kill you for even suggesting it.”

“Touch her and I will kill you!”

“KILL ME?! I’LL KILL YOU!”

“Ugh,” you groan, turning your back as the group of stubborn monsters in front of you begin to bicker, deja vu hitting you hard again. “What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to change?” You ask yourself out loud, head in your hands.

Yoongi holds you steady. “Something definitely is up, and I have a feeling it has something to do with this-” Yoongi looks through his pack.

“T-That’s it! Wait! No!” You yell as Yoongi pulls the gem out of his pack, letting it dangle in his hand.

But it’s too late. You can’t stop it, it’s already starting again, the red glow emanating directly from the gem, covering everyone and everything in that same red hue, until that’s all you can see.

‘Y/n, take it.’

You fall back to the ground and clutch your chest, dismissing the words inside your head, closing your eyes tightly as the gem burns brighter.

-

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“And how the hell did they break?!” Hoseok yells accusingly.

“Don’t look at me!” the merman counters, “There should have been no fucking conceivable way to break those spells,” he glances towards the youngest vampire who glares back.

“Well it happened, okay, and now is not the time to argue about it, we need to work together to stop him, there is no telling what he is capable of now.”

“Hello!? I have a way to stop him!”

“What is it, Dove?”

Okay, this is it. “Seokjin, you need to bite me.”

“What!?” Jimin yells angrily.

You look into Seokjin’s eyes, silently pleading with him. “The memory pull, it’s going to work now. Please,” you urge, holding out your arm to him as the pack tries still to barricade your body away from the vampires. “Look into my memories and you’ll understand!”

Jimin pulls the eldest back as he advances. “You’re really going to obey her command? Just like that! Taehyung might have already gotten to her, how can we trust her?!”

“You’re right! Jimin is right. I can feel him. Which is why…” you swallow, looking at Jimin, remembering this same conversation said just another way, wondering just how many times you have tried to convince them. “Which is why, you need to bite me.” You move your eyes to Seokjin, staring ahead steadfast. “So you can see the truth!”

“Why?” Jungkook speaks up, voice full of pain. “Why Seokjin out of all-”

You grab the youngest’s face and kiss him abruptly, silencing his worries.

Hoseok’s stares at you, mouth agape. He doesn’t know whether to be furious with you, or satisfied that Jimin and Yoongi both look so furious with you for kissing the youngest shapeshifter.

“Trust me, please,” your hands shake in your desperation, squishing his cheeks as he looks at you in shock and awe. 

“O-Okay,” Jungkook nods.

The eldest vampire sighs and starts to move closer much to Jimin’s astonishment and disgust. You try to push past the pack’s strong bodies. It hurts them to see you try to go to their enemy, but they let you pass.

Jimin crosses his arms, scoffing as the eldest meets you in the center of the room. Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with the biggest of the idiots telling him the most ridiculous things he’s ever heard. Suddenly you want Seokjin to bite you now? When you were just throwing yourself at Jimin! Why?! What happened? What’s the reason? You’re so annoying, you’re insufferable, the way you look at Seokjin with so much hope and trust.

Jimin grinds his teeth together in anger, so hard his fangs begin to pierce his bottom lip.

Seokjin puts his hands up, glancing towards the pack leader, meaning no harm before he bends his head closer to your neck.

“Wait!” Jimin speaks up. “Y/n, you wanted me to bite you, didn’t you? So come here then!”

“Jimin, I-”

“Don’t you dare say it,” Jimin cuts Seokjin off. “You didn’t listen to me about Taehyung, about her, and then you made a truce with them without even asking me! You’re lucky I even speak to you at all!” Jimin is furious with Seokjin, he’s beginning not to trust him...

You raise your eyebrows. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” Jimin seethes.

You smile, running past Seokjin. You hold out your wrist to Jimin, looking up at him hopefully. 

Jimin scoffs again, gripping your arm painfully and yanking you closer. The wolf trio begin to growl in anger, baring their fangs.

“I choose where I bite you, pet.”

You try to remain calm as the trio behind you let out low threatening growls. Jimin smirks, spinning you around by your arm, hugging you against his body like a shield and snickering at how angry it makes them.

The pack looks ready to attack. Yoongi begins to step forward in his growing anger.

“No!,” you stop him, “J-Just let him do what he wants,” you mutter.

Jimin smirks. “If it was what I wanted, you would be on your knees with your mouth shut.” He sneers, gripping your chin painfully tight and yanking your head backward. “And your head down, thinking about how stupid you are for walking right into Taehyung’s trap.”

‘Like you did,’ you think, keeping your temper in check.  “I know you’re scared, it’s okay.”

“I am not scared!” he hisses, nails digging into your side. You wince. Namjoon’s growls become louder.

“Namjoon, stop!”

Jimin smirks again. “Yeah, listen to her, dog. Since we are all at this human’s mercy,” he scoffs. “You seem to know so much about what happens next, so tell me, is it going all according to your little plan?” He presses his body against yours, holding you tightly.

“You like this, don’t you?” he whispers in your ear, obscenely grinding himself against your backside. Jimin rests his chin on your shoulder, arm still secure around your waist, smirking, intent on drawing this out for everyone involved, “them watching.” His hand grabs your breast roughly. 

Your eyes meet Yoongi’s eyes, dark with anger, and you shut them in shame.

You breathe through your nose as he fondles you for everyone to see, letting out short breaths when he rests his hand over your throat, choosing to submit in hopes he’ll eventually do what you want.

Jimin’s fangs scrape across your shoulder as he revels in the intoxicating feeling of power he has over you and everyone else, finally feeling better about his new situation. He breathes in the anger emanating from everyone in the room, inhaling your sweet desperation most of all.

His fangs scratch the surface of you, up the sensitive skin of your neck until you bleed.

Seokjin drops to his knees, panting heavily, addicted to your blood in more ways than one. Jimin stops, looking over to the older vampire. “I’m fine,” Seokjin pants. “I’m fine.”

Jimin looks coldly down at him, how disgraceful that he’s let you affect him so much. That’s what he gets for drinking from you all the time, for not letting Jimin! He licks the blood off your neck and you shudder. Jimin moans loudly, tasting your blood again finally.

The pack looks ready to kill, they bare their fangs, the restraint in their growls long gone.

“I’m sure they can all smell you from here, I can,” Jimin whispers in your ear, hand pressing down on your lower stomach, taunting you, “You’ve learned to be a good little pet, hmm? Here’s your reward.” Jimin presses his fangs into the column of your neck, directly on your pulse.

“What the hell?” the merman mumbles. There is something glowing in Yoongi’s pack. He fumbles with the latch to inspect it. Yoongi yanks out the red glowing gem, confusion evident on his face.

Oh no. You can feel it again. A familiar voice starts to call out to you. If it wasn’t for the pain in your neck keeping you present, you surely would have lost control.

You clutch your chest as the gem burns brighter. “Jimin! You-”

-

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“I can look,” he says, “don’t hold out hope now that his binds are off.”

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?” Jimin roars, advancing on you and the pack.

“You saw– You know–” you look at Jimin in disbelief. You reflexively cover your throat, the punctures are gone, but your heartbeat is still fluttering. “It wasn’t me!” you yell back.

The younger vampire yanks himself away from Jin’s protective hand. “Taehyung…” Jimin growls. “And you!” He points an accusing finger at the merman. “Give me that gem in your pack right now!”

“How did you know about that?” Yoongi glares at the younger vampire.

He scoffs, “I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“Well then fuck off,” Yoongi spits out.

Jimin can’t believe he’s stuck here until sunset! Inside this idiot infested house with– ‘Wait,’ He feels it, he can’t explain it, but it’s there, all around him, an inevitability that he can’t control, and it pisses him off! Jimin spins around, baring his fangs, claws ready to strike. 

The group watches Jimin spin around angrily like a confused dog chasing its tail.

“See,” you glare at Jimin, “See how annoying it is!”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Taehyung. The gem is his. And it seems he’s still using it somehow.” Jimin reasons, looking around at the familiar scene. “Give it, we need to destroy it,” Jimin holds out his hand impatiently. “DAMMIT YOONGI! We don’t have time for this!”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” you huff.

The merman holds onto his pack defensively. He doesn’t trust Jimin, but he knows they have to work together to stop Taehyung. Jimin is untrustworthy, but Jimin is powerful, more than he even realizes. So Yoongi holds his tongue and relents. 

You clutch your head in your hands. It’s pounding more than ever, and you feel it, inside of you, in the back of your mind screaming, wrapping around your bones, the dread of something horrible coming for you all. “Get it away from me!” you cry out. 

You press yourself against the door, opening it quickly and falling in the sand. Jungkook and Hoseok follow you out, worried for your safety and your quickly declining state of mind.

Jimin scoffs again. Pathetic, he thinks. Humans are scared of their own shadows. He turns his attention on the merman, waiting impatiently. He tries to ignore how close the others are to him as the men huddle around to look at the necklace. 

Jimin holds the gem in his hand, inspecting it. The weight of it in his palm is heavy. He touches the smooth rock, the gem itself is small, but the energy surrounding it is immense, a familiar power the vampire can’t quite put his finger on. ‘Why isn’t it glowing?’ he thinks, and as soon as the thought enters his mind a slow bright red light begins to emanate around the gem. 

“What’s going on?” The pack leader questions, staring at the gem, ready to strike anything that appears. 

“I don’t know.” Jimin doesn’t know how to stop it, but he wishes for whatever is happening to halt.

And as soon as the thought entered his mind the glow begins to recede back into the gem.

“Jimin, you should hold onto that necklace for now.” Seokjin speaks.

Jimin looks up and the expression on Seokjin’s face surprises the younger vampire. He’s seen that hardened look before from Seokjin, in moments when the older vampire begins to feel sentimental. Most recently, the night you came to them. Jimin never questioned it before, but now he wants to, he wants to know all the secrets Seokjin is keeping from him. Jimin is beginning not to trust him-

He grabs the eldest’s shirt collar, yanking him close. “You know what this is?”

Seokjin remains unaffected by Jimin’s outburst, covering Jimin’s hand with his own. “Now that I’ve looked at it up close, yes, I’ve seen it before. I believe, that necklace,” he sighs, “used to be yours. A long time ago, I saw you wear it. Or something very similar,” he swallows.

But before you, Jimin has never seen this necklace before in his life! He stares at the gem. That familiarity he feels can’t be– no, that feeling is just like the other moments of deja vu he has been experiencing, it’s not because…is it? Does this necklace belong to him?

You stare at the wolves’ den, refusing to move any closer. Nothing has happened yet, there is no red glow, and no immediate danger, but you feel at any moment everything could change. You look up at the sky, it’s still daytime, but not for much longer, and you’re worried-

“Y/n?” Hoseok shakes you when you don’t respond.

“Hoseok…” You wonder how many times this moment has repeated itself. Has Hoseok looked at you like this before, his care for you evident in his soft gaze? You try to remember and make sense of what is real. “That necklace, Taehyung used it to escape. I-I don’t know how, I don’t know why. I– Ahhh!”

Your nails dig into your scalp as you desperately try to claw away at the pain. The pain is radiating at your temples, just behind your eyes, in the back of your head, behind your ear-

“Hey, y/n, hey!” Hoseok holds your trembling body, patting your cheek, reminded of the moment he found you on the beach. Your eyes stare at the sky, far away, like you’re lost in your head, unable to hear him.

“W-What’s happening to her?!” Jungkook whimpers. You just came back to him and now he fears he might lose you completely.

Hoseok picks you up into his arms, holding you securely to him. “I don’t know, Namjoon will know. I’m taking her back inside.”

You want to tell him no, you want to tell him to wait, you don’t want to go back in, but you can’t find the energy to open your mouth to speak the words. Your body is betraying you, your vision starts to cloud, and you realize darkness is coming for you, even with the sun still high up in sky. You wish more than ever, you could start over again-

-

“Yoongi, do you have anything left that might be powerful enough?” Namjoon asks.

“Oh,” you groan, falling forward, unable to hold yourself up. The youngest of the pack wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his embrace before your knees hit the ground.

Jimin looks around, the gem still heavy in his palm. “The necklace,” he murmurs. It didn’t glow red this time and yet-

“Jimin!” The merman hisses, glaring at the vampire who has somehow taken the gem from Yoongi without him noticing, “Don’t move.”

Jimin’s body, and mind, suddenly feel sluggish. It lasts only a moment before the vampire is shaking himself out of the merman’s mind control. Jimin can’t help but laugh at his weak attempt. 

“DON’T MOVE,” Yoongi bellows, his words echoing throughout the wolves’ den, and everyone, including Jimin, freezes.

“What are you doing, Yoongi?!” Namjoon grunts, stuck in place by the merman’s words.

“I don’t know how, but he stole that from me, from my pack.” The merman walks with purpose while Jimin struggles to move. 

Your eyes go wide when you notice what’s happened. “It’s not his fault,” you mumble, glancing at Namjoon, your eyes and mouth the only part of you able to move, “I think...w-we’re stuck in a time loop.”

“A w-what?” Hoseok grunts, trying with all his might to turn his head.

“W-Well...it’s a lot t-to explain and you’ll probably forget it all anyways,” you whine.

Namjoon raises his brow. He can only slightly move his neck now, and struggles to turn his head to look at you. “Perhaps you should explain anyways. Now.” His tone is serious, potentially menacing if you were being honest.

“I know it sounds crazy, and I know you don’t want him to, shit, what haven't I explained to you yet? Jimin hasn’t actually bitten me yet, well, technically not yet, he has, but it was before I came back, from the future, into now-another time thing.” You start to remember clearly now, though it seems to be still very hard to explain, “Anyways, I know about Jimin’s past! And everything, and-”

“Is she making sense to you?” Hoseok mutters.

“Oh you’re so lucky we haven’t had this conversation before or I would be really blowing your mind,” you grunt.

Jimin’s arms jerk backwards as he fights the merman’s impressive mind control. “It’s mine! Give it back!” Jimin hisses as Yoongi plucks the gem out of the vampire’s hand mere seconds before Jimin regains control of himself again.

“Jimin, we don’t have the time,” you groan, your limbs finally moving again. “Jimin!” you yell, pulling the vampire’s attention away before he attacks the merman in his anger. 

You struggle in Jungkook’s arms, holding out your wrist to Jimin hopefully. “You know what you have to do, before it happens again!” 

“No!” Jungkook barks, lifting you off your feet to end your advance. 

Jimin exhales. This is insufferable, you’re insufferable, you’re, fuck– It’s happening again. He bares his fangs, letting his anger simmer over this constant deja vu. 

“Wait! Let me see it, that necklace,” Seokjin steps forward curiously.

Yoongi throws his arm backwards out of the vampire’s reach, the gold chain accidentally hitting your outstretched hand.

The gem touching your finger.

It felt like just a graze, so quickly it couldn’t have been longer than a second. Yet you felt it through your whole body.

And then pulling right behind your ear. 

And finally you understood as the brightest flash of red light quickly comes and goes. You hear his voice again, commanding you to do something else, something horrible...

You want to tell them all to run, to escape, but the only words your lips can speak are-

“Taehyung, come in.”

The door shatters, knocking everyone inside to the ground.

The back of your ear feels like it’s on fire and like you summoned the devil himself, Taehyung appears behind you, lifting you up. “Ahh princess, now where did you put my jewel?”

You stand paralyzed by fear, as if gravity chained your limbs to your body.

“Taehyung, leave her alone!” Jungkook roars, and he somehow looks more imposing than the pack leader himself.

Taehyung laughs, looking around incredulously at the monsters surrounding him. 

“I’m saving her from you!” He pulls you close and despite your fear, you gravitate to him. It reminds you of Yoongi’s siren song, but more painful, dark, like ropes around your limbs, a noose around your throat. “You would rather use her, draining her life away because you want a pretty pet-” he looks at Seokjin, “-or keep her here on this island, chained like a prisoner, like you did to me! You just can’t see her potential!”

“You...betrayed Jimin...this is all your fault,” you grunt, barely able to speak the words out loud. 

Taehyung looks at you, eyes softening. “Your loyalty to my brother is sweet. After everything they did to you. You really are perfect. I knew it when I first met you, we were fated to meet. You were the one who was going to save me, and now I can save you.” He holds you close, embracing you how he always wanted to, no chains or shackles between you anymore. “You saw Jimin’s story and believed him. I’ll show you mine, y/n. You’ll see once and for all.”

Yoongi’s nose is bleeding from the explosion. He has the gem hidden in his palm. He doesn’t quite understand how Taehyung appeared so suddenly, or what the gem has to do with it, but he figures no good will come from Taehyung having it, and he intends to risk everything to keep it away from Taehyung. 

He looks at your pain stricken expression and suddenly realizes, no, he can’t risk everything.

“They should have cut off your hands,” Yoongi mutters, wiping away the dried blood from under his nose and standing up. “Thy were too nice to you. When I defeat you I’ll make sure your next cell is underground and twice as small,” the merman tries to goad Taehyung away from you.

“Monster,” Taehyung frowns. “Do you know how many humans he has killed, y/n? How many they’ve all killed? Have I ever killed anyone!” he yells.

“You were going to kill Seokjin!” Jimin argues.

“Seokjin is evil!” he yells back. “And not a human.”

“Okay, Taehyung, you want retribution, we’re all here now. So let y/n go, can’t you see how scared she is?” Namjoon questions, crouching low in fighting stance. His calmness is even more menacing than his anger, you think.

“She doesn’t want me to let her go,” Taehyung smiles, his chin pressing into your shoulder as he continues to hug you close. “Tell them you want to be with me.”

“I want to be with Taehyung,” you cry out, terrified how the words left your lips so quickly, of the way your control is slipping away.

“See, she’s my destiny.” He grins, triumph dripping from his words.

No, no, no. You clutch your chest, where the pain emanates the most, right over your heart.

“Oh, that’s where it went.” Taehyung sighs, petting your head softly. “I’m sorry, one of my attacks must have hit you hard. Let’s go back, out of reach this time. Now, where is my necklace? Tell me, y/n.”

Yoongi, Yoongi has it. It’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. Yoongi.

You clench your jaw so tight your teeth begin to hurt. “Who took it?” he asks sweetly.

“Yoongi...” You begin to cry. “Please don’t hurt him!”

The merman speaks up, “Oh, he won’t hurt me.”

“You haven’t changed at all, so arrogant, acting like you’re better than everyone else!” Taehyung says, staring at Yoongi’s closed fist. He flicks his wrist over, fingers pulling at the air. 

A glowing red light starts emanating from Yoongi’s palm, an inescapable power ready to burst from the tiny gem, red streaks of light between his fingers cut through the wolf’s den, knocking back anything it touches.

Yoongi yells in pain, but he refuses to let go of the necklace. 

Unlike the others, when the red light hits Taehyung, he can easily redirect it with his hand, and his beam hits Seokjin, knocking the vampire right in the chest.

You see singes across the eldest vampire’s body, his clothes tattered and deep burn scars across his skin. Yoongi’s hand looks charred too, he yells and doubles over in pain, still fighting to hold onto the necklace. The others are fast, dodging the attacks, but how long can they last? 

Hoseok is hit next, he turns into a wolf instantly, charging towards you. Namjoon runs in to attack Taehyung, who shifts your body in front of the leader. 

The wolves are trying so hard to save you from Taehyung, it breaks your heart to witness the pain they are going through. How can you save them? Protect them? You feel so useless, so human and fragile. A mere pawn in a game played between kings.

If only there was a way to restart this day again.

“Y/n, don’t,” Taehyung whispers in your ear.

The wolves are too worried for your safety to use their full force, something Taehyung uses to his full advantage as he moves closer to the merman still fighting to hold onto the gem.

Jimin doesn’t care about your safety. He crashes into both of you.

You feel the weight of both men on top of you, suffocating you as Taehyung covers your body with his to take the brunt of the vampire’s wild attacks.

However, Taehyung’s physical strength seems to be unmatched, he throws the vampire as if Jimin weighed nothing with only one arm, the other holding your wrist so you can’t get away.

He moves closer to the struggling merman.

This can’t be happening, it can’t end this way, after everything you’ve been through.

Perhaps it was how close to victory Taehyung had been, so close he was only thinking about the outcome of his winning, the great future ahead of him. He was distracted just enough, and the reigns he had held over you loosened just a bit. It cleared your mind just enough, made you hope, wish for help to come for Yoongi and the others.

Your wish fluttered inside you like a heartbeat, pulling you, and this time, pulling everyone…

Through time…

To a place where the merman had an advantage. Your wish was granted.

The thumping receded and seawater filled every space around you suddenly. You were underwater, deep in the sea. You looked around and saw red and blue flashes of light, the shadows of the beast’s bodies around you, blood like red ribbons leaving their wounds. You slowly kick towards the sky.

How deep are you? You don’t know if you can make it to get in air in time.

You scream, the sound muffled underwater, when fingers reach for your hair, jerking your head down.

It’s Jimin. By the look in his eyes you think he might drain you right here, let you drown in a sea of blood, but he reaches for your hand instead and pulls you to the surface at inhuman speed. 

Spluttering, you gasp in air as the ocean lights up the night with streaks of power flashing under water.

“You’re coming with me,” he grunts, dragging your body back to land.

“Yoongi! The others!”

“Hold your breath!” Jimin pulls you back under when Taehyung resurfaces.

You inhale in quickly. You see the sparkling merman’s tail reflecting under water as he attacks Taehyung again.

Red light explodes underwater. Pulsing through the ocean, knocking you back into Jimin. He pulls you away from the fighting, closer to shore until you can stand above water.

You try to keep up, but the night waves crash into your body knocking you off your feet. Jimin drops you into shallow water. You gasp for breath while he looks over you. It reminded you of when you first met him, the way his body is over yours. But his eyes aren’t the same, there’s no hatred in them like before, Jimin looks lost, Jimin looks…sad.

He grabs the front of your dress and rips it, exposing your cleavage. Your arms cover your chest and he yanks those away too. You almost scream, but he doesn’t do anything but look at you. Then his finger traces the scars on your chest, making you shudder. The scar lines form a deep v across your chest, connecting around your neck.

“It was you.” He grips your neck, startling you. “Fix it. Now!”

Moonlight is speckling the ocean’s surface. The water calmer than usual. “Take us back to before Taehyung arrived. Before…” he shudders, looking out at the ocean, up towards the moon angrily. “This is your fault.” Jimin lunges for you, his claws pulled quickly away by Jungkook rushing to your side. Jungkook picks up your exhausted body, wading deeper in the water, glaring at the vampire. “Let’s go.”

“Follow me.” Yoongi yells, further out.

When you reach Yoongi, the youngest reluctantly hands you to him. “Where’s Taehyung?”

“He…took the necklace,” Yoongi says bitterly. “Ready?”

You look at the dark water all around you. “W-Where are we going?”

“My home.”

-

Yoongi swims down to the sea floor. You hold his hand, let the current and his strong fin lead you to the furthest depths of the ocean.

There’s no light, only the faint sparkling reflection of Yoongi’s tail is visible to your human eyes.

Your feet touch the sandy floor. The pain in your ears lessens the longer Yoongi breathes air into you. It’s an odd feeling, walking the sea floor, a place certainly no other living human could walk alone.

‘Jin.’ Your body stiffens in fright. You see the vampire, lying suspended upon the ocean floor. It frightens you how dead he looks, floating there, but for as long as you’ve known him, Jin has always been dead, hasn't he? Jimin passes, hooking Seokjin’s floating arm over his shoulder and pulling the vampire along.

You reach an underwater cave and swim inside. It’s tunnels are vast. The coral crevices hold things, some are man-made items, some magical.

The coral of the cave winds around, creating tunnels that are compact, walls that are cramped together. It’s dark and lonely inside, there is no light, no warmth. Is this where Yoongi stayed? It makes you feel sorry for the merman, makes you want to fill his life with warmth. He swims around quickly pulling things from inside the pockets of coral.

It’s impressive how the wolves can hold their breath, but even at this depth for so long they are having trouble. Even you are almost out of the air Yoongi gave you.

The merman swims to the cave’s bottom. There’s a purple wooden door situated at the cave floor with a spoked handle. The color reminds you of the one in Seokjin’s office. He begins to turn the vault handle quickly, unlocking the door. You watch, holding your body against one of the coral walls, making sure you don't float away. 

You begin to choke on water. The door opens finally and the others rush inside, quickly escaping down into the depths. Yoongi finds you, kissing you. Slowly, taking his time now. 

Submerged in the water, floating, he became the only thing that grounded you. You wish you could speak underwater and tell him how sorry you were for letting Taehyung inside, for causing this all to happen. You kept your lips pressed to his, hoping to convey how apologetic you felt. Yoongi hugs you close and dives into the vault.

You break the surface of the water, somehow right side up now. You wipe the water away from your face as Yoongi holds you to him. You look around the small cave, a part of the underground cave system inside the island. You look down at your bodies still submerged in the water, you should be upside down. How is that possible?

It never ceases to amaze you, the magicalness of this place.

“How is he?” you call out.

“I’ve seen better days.” The vampire in question grunts. Seokjin has definitely seen better days, the usually put together vampire is the most beaten you’ve ever seen him, lying on the cave floor unable to move.

“Jin, would it help?” you offer your wrist to him. You were the only human here.

Seokjin swallows, “Yes.”

“Let me help him,” you beg the others. Namjoon lifts you out of the cave pool. Everyone looks so beaten they don't fight you, they stay silent as you make your way to Seokjin.

“Are you sure, Dove?” he grunts.

You nod, lying against him, finally letting your tired muscles relax. Seokjin drank from you countless of times before, what’s one more?

---

Jimin breaks Seokjin’s jade statue, smashing it to pieces.

“Get away from me!” he screams, “w-who are you?!”

You see Seokjin and Namjoon standing next to him. And you see Hoseok. You see Taehyung.

“Is it normal to forget?” Taehyung asks, watching Jimin curiously.

“No…no,” Seokjin swallows. Had Seokjin really been too late to save Jimin?

Jimin screams and screams, clawing at his throat. It’s dry and itchy, he feels like he’s burning from the inside out. “Stop. Stop it!” The pain won’t stop!

“He needs blood,” Hoseok says, his tone urgent and worried.

“If we bring someone to the island, he’s not going to be able to control himself.”

“I’ll find someone no one will miss,” Hoseok suggests.

“No, it’s still a life.” Namjoon interjects, watching the display, clenching his jaw when Jimin screams again.

“And what about Jimin?!” Hoseok argues. “What about his life?!” You can feel his anger, you feel it too within Seokjin.

“If it’s someone who deserves it, someone bad?” Taehyung speaks up, wincing as he watches his friend writhe in pain.

“Let’s go hunt one last time, old friend,” Seokjin mumbles, unable to look Namjoon in the eyes, watching instead the horrible state Jimin is in.

“Okay, okay.”

It was an easier find than they had thought. During a dark club night, the music boomed as a regular flirted with a young woman. Upon entering the club, Namjoon and Seokjin noticed all the tell tale signs immediately, the signs of a predator..

While Namjoon bumped into the couple, and riled up the man by cozying up to his unsuspecting victim, Seokjin quickly switched their drinks, the one the man had spiked for his date switched with his clean one. While the drug worked its magic, you looked around the club, listening to old music. You watched the bodies on the dance floor move together in almost one fluid motion. You missed it, realizing how long it’s been since you’ve had that kind of fun. Your heart raced as the beat of the song quickened, as urgency ran through the vampire’s cold veins instead of blood. You want to dance. You want to kill that man. You want to save Jimin. Complicated emotions filter through Seokjin and into you.

Your mouth goes slack as you press your body closer, your hands fisting Seokjin’s tattered shirt. “You’re taking too much!” Namjoon barks. 

“I’m sorry.” Seokjin licks your wounds clean as your vision goes hazy and you slump against him. No, you wanted to see more, to listen to more-

---

“Where are you, sweetheart?”

“Taehyung?”

Taehyung covers your cheek with his hand. “Tell me where you are so I can find you, get you away from them.”

“No! You stay away from them!”

Taehyung’s arms cage you in, his body above yours. “Y/n, please,” he begs, lowering himself over you. “I can leave the island now, but I don't want to go, not without you.” He wraps his arms around your body, hugging you close to him in a suffocating embrace. “Please come with me, I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Despite everything, you feel sorry for him as he shakes against you.

No, no, no! He’s the same man who tried to betray Seokjin. What would he have done to Jimin if he had succeeded? What is he going to do to you? You press against his shoulders, trying to push him off of you. Taehyung covers your lips with his own, lessening your resolve.

His lips work a different kind of magic, he presses his tongue inside your mouth, runs it over your own, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. You grip his shoulders, unsure whether to push him away or closer. He kisses you for so long you wonder how he hasn’t broken away to take a breath, you wonder why you don’t have the need to either.

You gasp when Taehyung decides to move lower down your body, his lips licking across your neck. By now, he’s made sure to keep you locked to him, holding onto both your wrists so you can’t push against him. Even when he shifts his digits and intertwines your fingers, he keeps his weight heavy on you.

“It’s not fair, I can only have you in my dreams like this,” he chuckles against your skin. “Please be with me. Together we can explore the whole world, do whatever we want.” Taehyung was so excited to see all the new technology you had described to him during your long visits. He wants to experience it all with you.

You take in a ragged breath, suppressing a moan every time he sucks and rolls his tongue over your skin. “Promise me you won’t hurt them.”

“I promise.”

You don’t believe him.

You can’t believe him.

It feels like a lie, it all feels like a lie.

“Where are you?”

“In a cave.”

“There are thousands of caves on the island, do you know where?”

“I d-don’t know.”

It’s true you don't know, but there are words you could use to describe the cave. You could tell Taehyung how you got there, about Yoongi’s magical door. But you bite those words down, hiding the whole truth.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find you.” He rests his forehead against yours, runs his thumb over your kiss bitten lips. He can't wait to have you, to mark you, to make you like him.

You touch the necklace dangling from Taehyung’s neck, and he rips your hand away, gripping your wrist so tightly you can feel the pressure in your bones.

Fear trickles down your spine and catches in your throat once you realize how entangled you are to him, how easily he could hurt you if he wanted to. The Taehyung you knew had been so unthreatening, like a lonely puppy tied to a tree, only wanting attention.

The shackles took away any threatening aura, you only ever felt safe with him, you hadn't yet known what he was capable of...

Taehyung feels your heart beat jumping against his lips. “You’re scared of me, why?” he frowns. “Have I ever given you a reason to believe I would ever hurt you? Jimin hurt you, Seokjin hurt you,” he adds.

You swallow, unable to answer him. He’s right.

“If you hated Seokjin so much...why did you want to become like him?”

Taehyung holds you loosely now, smiling softly. “You know...Namjoon, Hoseok, Jungkook, their powers slow their aging, but one day, they’re going to grow old, they’re going to grow weak. They’re going to die,” he hums.

“T-That’s no excuse-”

“Sometimes we have to lose everything to gain everything.”

“Is that what you told Jimin before you took everything from him?!”

“Seokjin’s affliction really did rub off on you. What will you say when you make him remember and he still wants to rip your throat out?”

You swallow, silenced by his words.

“Tell me where you are so I can protect you,” he presses his lips upon the column of your neck tenderly.

“T-The cave-”

“Yes?” Taehyung runs his tongue along your throat, enjoying the way you tremble against him.

“-a d-door-”

His hands knead your side, up your body, gripping your mounds, caressing your suppleness.

“A door? Invite me in then, sweetheart.”

Your fingers tangle his hair, pulling him closer to you. Then run down his neck, slipping under his necklace.

You yank the gold chain, screaming.

---

“You’re awake,” Jungkook says happily. You’re lying nestled in between bodies, warm in the otherwise cold and dark cave. “Are y-you okay?”

You close your eyes, calming down, shaking your head, worried your words won’t be your own.

Namjoon holds your hand, “Y/n, can you tell us anything about what happened to the watch I gave you?”

Your hand cups your neck, where Seokjin’s bite is now healed over. “T-Taehyung, he said he would ‘fix’ the watch for me. He must have, because...it must have been, three months ago? I found that red amulet, it was from Seokjin’s shop, it appeared in my hand and then I heard Taehyung’s voice in my head, and…and I-I had no control...” You remember it clearly now, “The watch took me back in time and broke as soon as I used it.”

You look down at your hands. “But I still had the one I hadn’t used yet, from this time…” you say, absentmindedly touching your collarbone out of reflex. “When the explosion happened, I-I don’t know, I-I lost them.” Namjoon inspects your neck, gently adjusting the torn fabric of your dress.

He looks over his shoulder, where the merman lazily swims in the cave pool. “Yoongi?” he asks. 

“The stronger the magic, the more uncontrollable it becomes. If Taehyung’s attack hit her...and the watch…anything could be possible.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Does that human brain of yours not work at all anymore?” Hoseok complains, sitting at the top of your head, looking down at you with crossed arms. “The watch’s magic, it’s inside you.”

“...what,” you ask horrified. You trace the scars across your chest, running up your clavicle and around your neck.

“You were trying to protect yourself from Taehyung,” Yoongi says knowingly. “You took us forward in time.”

Yoongi had noticed the stronger tides, looked up at the moon, and realized the phase had shifted 4 days ahead.

But how could that be? Then when he mentioned it to the others, they all realized…

“I-I can’t control it.”

“And we’re not even sure what it does to her when she uses it,” Hoseok says, concerned, thinking the worst. There is no telling what will happen to you in the end, are you losing hours off your life? Days? 

“Where’s Jimin?”

“Cooling off, taking a late night swim.” Seokjin sighs. “Dove, what happened between you and Jimin in this future of yours that makes you think he will be so cooperative?”

It felt wrong, telling his story, intimate memories that he didn’t even have the chance to see yet. “His past…”

“You know his whole past?” Hoseok asks. You nod. “And you trust him? After everything you know?”

“You don’t know what he’s been through! Taehyung-”

“They worked together to betray us all,” Hoseok scoffed.

You shake your head. “Taehyung knew Jimin before he knew you, Hoseok.” You’ve seen enough of their memories together to see how protective Hoseok had been over Taehyung. But the secrets Jimin and Taehyung had kept weren’t even knowledgeable to Jimin anymore.

“No-”

“Yes.”

“Did you know about this?” Hoseok turns to his pack leader. 

He shakes his head no, “They acted like strangers. Did you know?” Namjoon turns to Seokjin.

“He didn’t speak much of his childhood, even when he was human.” Seokjin hums, “The few memories of his childhood I pulled did not have any indication they knew each other. They had only become close after Jimin was turned.”

“No, they were always close.” you say, sure of yourself. “I can’t prove it, yet, but I don’t think what happened was an accident,” you look at Hoseok. “It wasn’t your fault you lost control, Hoseok.”

Hoseok's eyes start to shine in the shadows of the cave as tears well up. “No,” he says in disbelief. It was his fault. He turned Taehyung into a beast like him, and he’s never forgiven himself because of it.

He shakes his head, unable to let your words really hit him.

“Well, we can only learn the whole truth from Jimin himself. Help me this time, please?”

---

Jimin returns later than usual, right before sunrise, his mind no less at ease.

-

“Well, it almost worked last time.” 

-

Has Seokjin been drinking from you this whole time?! Jimin scoffs, settling himself away from you and the others. 

Seokjin does it messily, letting the blood drip down your shoulder, covering your chest in the red liquid.

You let a soft whimper escape your lips, moaning. Seokjin’s hand moves from your hip to resting between your legs

“Are you going to be doing that all day?!” Jimin barks, his words echoing in the small cave.

“You haven’t drank in a while, brother. Come drink.” Jimin swallows hard, smelling your blood, the sweet iron scent fills the cave. He remembers the previous time loop, the taste of your blood still a strong memory. It never happened, he hasn’t really tasted you, yet that’s now all he can think about. He remembers it distantly like a dream. Or rather a nightmare, how can you possibly be this annoying to him without even trying? Jimin silently seethes as his throat becomes itchier and drier.

Jimin looks over at the wolves, who seem to be minding their own business. There is no way they are not affected by this...lewd display! He narrows his eyes on Hoseok, the jealous one, who sits crossed-legged and crossed-arms, eyes closed and jaw clenched.

-

“You’re joking?”

“No, I saw them do it before with other girls,” you mutter, unable to meet Hoseok's eyes, “in Seokjin’s memories.”

-

Jungkook rests his head against the pack leader’s shoulder, shaking his legs to a song in his head he is using to distract himself, and Namjoon acts completely unaffected. Jimin scoffs, Namjoon sure has the best poker face, but Jimin knows this is bothering the pack. They probably finally figured out they’re weaker ones amongst them, Jimin thinks.

“Well if you won’t, then I will.” Namjoon speaks up.

Namjoon pulls your leg, pulling you closer to him as he crawls over you. His strong hands press your legs open so he can settle in between them.

“You know my kind bites too. We don’t do it to suck blood, our bite is different. But, I wouldn’t mind eating you up,” Namjoon teases, his deep voice even deeper in his gruffness.

You know this is just an act, but your heart escalates at the thought, remembering the younger werewolf acting so brazenly. Devious suits Namjoon so well, the roughness in his nature is so attractive.

Jimin grits his teeth at such a revolting thought.

“You’re just going to let him put his filthy paws all over her? You’re going to hand her over just like that?”

“I haven’t let her go.” Seokjin caresses your temples, smearing blood across your face. “We used to do this all the time. I’ve gotten used to Namjoon’s scent.”

Jimin looks away, looking for the merman, someone else he can yell at.

“Joon, wait. Jimin, did you want to drink from me instead?”

“No thanks,” Jimin hisses.

You look back at Namjoon. Seokjin lifts your hand to his mouth, biting down on the fleshy part of your palm. It hurts, he is usually better at making the pain feel pleasurable, but his objective isn’t your pleasure, it’s to cause maximum blood flow, to make you cry out in pain, knowing your whimpers will entice Jimin the most.

Namjoon’s lets his teeth scrape across your thigh. “Shh little Dove.” He uses the pet name Seokjin gave you. “Don’t cry, I’ll make you sing.”

It’s so hot in this goddamn cave. The smell of everyone’s arousal is assaulting, inescapable.

“My turn next,” Hoseok calls out.

“I’m going to mark her as my mate,” Jungkook growls, eyes darkened at the sight of you writhing in pleasure and pain.

Jimin has had it. He has had to endure being in their company for this long, but now the dogs want to defile what is his? Yes, you are his and Seokjin’s! They paid fairly for you, you would be dead if it were not for them. You are theirs! You are his. And you are the only human left on this damned island, Jimin had searched all night for any signs of life to no avail.

“I’m going to rip out your teeth,” Jimin threatens lowly.

“Did you say something?” Hoseok says flippantly.

“You don’t think I know what you’re all doing?”

You look between yourselves in silence.

“You’re just giving up! Taehyung really turned you into a bunch of cowardly dogs. You’re just gonna stay in this cave like a bunch of animals in heat while Taehyung does god knows what!?”

You continue to look between yourselves in silence.

He points at you. “She said if I bit her, we could stop Taehyung!” He yanks you to your feet so hard you feel the whiplash in your bones. “Isn’t that right? SO WHY ARE YOU WASTING YOUR PRECIOUS TIME WITH THEM?!” Jimin yells so loud his words echo over and over again.

You blink. “You’re right, Jimin.”

Jimin moves behind you, tilting your head. He licks the old blood off your shoulder, suppressing a groan at the taste. “If this doesn’t work-” he growls.

“It will.”

“Then I wont stop until it does.” All your blood will be Jimin’s one way or another.

He licks his lips before sinking his teeth into the column of your neck.

---

Just like that, you and Jimin revisit his bedroom, a memory you both shared, your past and his future had Taehyung’s plan not have worked.

-

Jimin roars, pulling away. Your body spasms with too much blood loss. Jimin looks down, your blood covering his body, his pants undone. How is he in bed with you? He was just in the merman’s cave, drinking your blood.

No, he is in the merman’s cave. This is a memory.

Jimin remembers. 

He gently turns your body over. Your breathing is ragged, strained, your eyes try to focus on the vampire above you.

Now you remember, it was the first time Jimin looked at you without hatred in his eyes. Tearing the flesh from his arm, he puts the wound over your mouth and you drink until your body relaxes. Then cautiously, Jimin lowers himself over you again, ready to see more.

---

Jin steps closer, followed by the rest of the men. 

Was Jimin still drinking from you?

Neither of you made any movement.

You both fell to your knees with Jimin’s fangs deep in your neck, your eyes glazed over and out of focus. 

“What happened?” Namjoon whispers to the eldest vampire. He wasn’t quite sure, neither of you were responsive, both lost in your heads. 

“Little Dove?”

---

I am so excited to write some backstory finally!!! Are you excited for the next chapter?

[ninchen1909]

The wrong groom

Pairing: Ivar the boneless x female reader

Word count: ~ 2.500

Hey,

this is the first time I write for a Vikings character. Also English isn‘t my first language, so I apologize in advance for possible mistakes.

I hope you have a great day!

Warnings: mention of killing disabled children, mention of alcohol, kind of arranged marriage but also not

"How can you ask this of me father?" you turn to him angrily, your dress swinging elegantly around your body. All of your father's advisors look at the floor, not daring to say a word. Even the priest, who always follows your father like a faithful, obedient dog, stands before you with his head bowed.

"How can you ask me to marry one of these barbarians, they stand for all that we despise. How in God's holy name can you ask me to marry one of these sinners?"

Your face is flushed red with rage, your hands clenched into tight fists. You have always been different from all the other princesses you have known. You never let anyone tell you to shut up and you always stood up for your convictions. At some point your parents realized that they could never chastise you and made a deal with you to control your temper at least in front of visitors and other nobles.

"You must do it my beloved daughter, for our kingdom, for our freedom and for our people."

Tears well up in your eyes, whether from anger or sadness you can't quite tell yourself. A few days ago, you were simply the princess of one of the smaller kingdoms in England, never attracting the interest of the Northmen until they suddenly and without warning attacked your city. Half of your army have already been killed and it is almost certain that your city could not withstand another attack.

"But why me father, why not Sophie, you've wanted to marry her off for a long time, she's older and wiser than me." Your tone has by now lost its sharpness, desperation winning out over fear.

"Sophie does not have your strength, my child, she would perish in their world, but you can become stronger in it." The look in your father's eyes becomes softer, you even think you can recognize pity in it.

"Do I even have a chance of getting out of this unmarried?" your father shakes his head, a defeated sigh escaping your throat.

"They are already on their way to us, King Ragnar with his sons and some retainers, we will discuss the details at a feast today."

"May I at least know the name of my intended?" you cross your arms stubbornly in front of your chest, a behavior for which other princesses would have experienced great suffering, but your father has to suppress a smirk.

"Prince Sigurd"

A few hours later, the feast is in full swing, together with your sister, your father, and his closest confidants, you sit on a raised table in the back of the Great Hall.

Your appetite has left after a closer observation of the Nordic table manners. Disgusted, your mouth tightens as you see them talking with their mouths full and not seeming to understand the meaning of cutlery at all. The wine flows in streams and soon you realize that they seem to be able to hold more alcohol than the men in your town.

All evening you feel the eyes of one of Ragnar's sons on you, you know from the description your father gave you of your future husband that it is not Sigurd. Crutches are leaning against the wooden bench next to him and his attentive, alert eyes follow your every move. His dark brown hair, like the hair of the other Northmen is worked into beautiful braided hairstyles. Your father seems to be able to interpret your gaze clearly, as unobtrusively as possible, he leans in your direction and whispers to you:

"This is Ivar, he is the youngest son of Ragnar and according to stories also by far the most bloodthirsty and brutal among the brothers. So stay away from him."

A silent nod is your answer, but to your own dismay, your father's words don't repulse you, but rather make the interest in  Ivar grow in you. During the whole time, his ice-blue eyes are constantly directed at you, even when you look directly at him, he does not avert his gaze from you, but gives you an arrogant smile, much to your astonishment.

Throughout the evening, your eyes meet again and again, and each time anew goose bumps cover your body, the dangerous aura that surrounds him captivates you, and as if automatically, your hand finds its way to the cross that hangs around your neck, you clasp it tightly with your fist.

The festivity goes on like all the previous ones. Everyone gets drunk and all the noble, God-fearing men, as time passes and alcohol consumption increases, look for a young woman for the night, who in no way resembles their spouse.

With your father's consent, you get up from the table as inconspicuously as you can and leave the hall almost in a hurry. You hold up the skirt of your dress to get ahead faster and so you walk quickly straight towards the stables.

Your entrance is accompanied by the excited neighing and nervous scraping of hooves as you make your way as quietly as possible to the last stall. In it stands your most faithful friend in the kingdom, the only one you don't have to worry about betraying you. Carefully you push the latch aside and enter the box with slow steps. Dark, loyal eyes beam at you as you lovingly bury the flat of your hand on the snow-white fur.

"Greetings, my old friend," you carefully lean your forehead against his and close your eyes, the smell of fresh hay rising to your nostrils, and for the first time this evening, you seem to be able to breathe properly. You tenderly stroke your horse's nostrils as you hear a steady clacking sound in the front of the stable. With a jerk, you turn around, prepared to spot the potential danger and fight back if necessary.

However, you would never have expected to meet the person who is now standing in front of you. You watch as he moves slowly but smoothly toward one of the hay bales and drops onto it, his crutches leaning next to him within reach.  Now he looks at you through his thick lashes. The sky-blue of his eyes makes you shiver pleasantly and for a brief moment you think your legs would give out their service and make you fall uncomfortably to the ground. Quickly you try to hide this.

"What are you doing here my prince, shouldn't you be out in the hall getting drunk with the other men and lusting after the women?"

You yourself are taken aback by your direct words, but you don't let this show. Unlike expected, your words do not make him angry, but rather seem to amuse him. For a short time later, a raucous, throaty laugh fills the stables.

"You're different little raven, aren't you? Most of the other princesses I know are obedient and well-behaved, but you carry the fire of Freya in you." An arrogant but also admiring smile spreads on Ivar's face.

"You are also different from most people I know, because most people I know have two functioning legs and can actually walk of their own free will."

no sooner have you said these words than you regret them. You never wanted to be someone who limited others only to physical attributes. His smile begins to stiffen and the playful spark has also disappeared from his eyes.

"I guess you're right about that little raven" you notice him reach for his crutch and tense his upper body to hoist himself up. You hurry to place a hand on his forearm, an apologetic expression coming to your face.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It's just you they don't get many people like you, most of you are..." you dare not finish the sentence, which Ivar takes from you though.

".... Killed or left for dead. I know."

Under your hand you notice how his muscles relax again and Ivar seems to loosen up again. An uncomfortable silence spreads over you, only the scraping of hooves and the flaring of nostrils can be heard around you.

"You said before that I had the fire of Freya in me."

With a nod, Ivar indicates for you to continue talking.

"Who is Freya?"

a slight smile spreads across his face after your question and he leans a little further towards you.

"One of our goddesses, especially in times of war we think of her and make sacrifices to be in her favor."

"So you're comparing me to a goddess who brings death and disaster to people?"

you raise an eyebrow.

"Believe me that is an honor, she is one of our Most Favored Gods, but if it soothes your Christian heart, she is also the Goddess of Marriage and Love."

Slightly you nod to yourself as you soak up this knowledge.

"You said Freya is one of your gods, who else do you make sacrifices for?"

Ivar looks into your face trying to find some form of dishonesty there, however the only thing Ivar can discern there is genuine curiosity.

Eagerly, you listen to his soothing voice as he tells you about the father of the gods, Odin, Thor, Loki, and all the others gods.

After the feast, King Ragnar has decided to stay with his whole troupe until your and Sigurd's wedding, so that you can then sail back with them to their homeland and a new life.

Against all expectations, you spend most of your time with Ivar instead of your future husband. You realize that none of the stories do justice to Ivar's character, at least not when he is with you. Of course, you recognize his gruff, sometimes even sadistic manner when he is with other people. With you, however, he is tender and attentive, always giving you his complete attention and patiently explaining everything you want to know. He tells you stories of his adventures and of what awaits you in your new home.

With each passing day you notice how your feelings for Ivar increase and your interest in Sigurd decreases until it finally ceases to exist, each day your heart yearns more for the man with the crippled legs. Never does he treat you as if you were beneath him. Every day he tells you stories about his travels, his homeland and his gods and to your own amazement he listens attentively to your stories about your god. After only a few days you realize that his mere presence makes you happy, every day you wake up in anticipation of spending your day with him. And he seems to feel the same way. In all this time Sigurd never once seeks your company, nor does he make any effort to get to know you better. Ivar even more so.

Three days before the wedding you can't take it anymore, you have to stand by your feelings or you will be unhappy for the rest of your life.

With quick steps you make your way to the throne room with one hand grasping the skirt of your dress so as not to trip without knocking you push open the heavy wooden door and look into the astonished faces of your father and King Ragnar.

"Daughter, how dare you..."

"Father, please forgive the intrusion, however, I need to talk to you about something that has been depriving me of sleep for several nights now."

At your words, your father's features soften and his voice loses some of its original sharpness.

"Speak then, my daughter."

"I don't want to marry Sigurd, I don't think we're right for each other either..."

Your father interrupts you, before you can finish your sentence.

“You are going to marry one of King Ragnars sons, that’s not something I’m going to debate with you, daughter.”

“Yes father I know and I’m going to marry one of his sons, just not Sigurd..”

Your father sinks back into his chair, your eyes briefly fall on the King of the Northmen, his bright blue eyes patterning you with interest.

"Why don't you want to marry my son Sigurd, he's a good man".

The Northman squints his eyes slightly, eagerly waiting for your answer.

"I do not question that he is a good man, however I have the impression that we would not be good for each other."

"And why do you think that?"

Ragnar rises from his chair and walks toward you with slow steps, his eyes not leaving yours for a second. Nervousness rises in you, but you try to suppress it with all your might.

"And I want to hear the real reason."

"With all due respect King Ragnar, I am not under the impression that Prince Sigurd is interested in finding a wife and starting a family. Besides, I don't think I have the physical attributes your son desires in a partner."

A smile creeps onto his lips, while your father is shocked and enraged by your bluntness.

“Daughter, how dare you to speak to King Rag..”

“Fair enough…”

The Northman interrupts your father without sparing him so much as a glance.

…..which one of my sons do you want to marry princess (y/n)?“

“Prince Ivar, my king”

The shocked gasp of you father fills the thronroom and even king Ragnar seems surprised by your demand.

“I noticed on our first day here, that you weren’t really found of him, so what changed?”

“That’s true, at first I was scared of him, I heard many stories about how brutal and violent he can be and to be honest I don’t doubt that for a second. But as I spend time with him, he showed me, what I believe is the real him. He is soft and caring with me, he lifts up my spirit every time I see him. And he never gave me the feeling like I was inferior to him because of my gender. He is smart and a excellent strategiest, I wasn’t lucky enough to see him fight so far. But from what I heard, he is a outstanding warrior too.  And I would be honored to become his wife.”

After your speech you lower your head slightly, not daring to look at your father, a short but intense silence falls over the three of you. It feels like an eternity, until you hear King Ragnars loud an clear voice.

“Then so be it.”

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

10. 𝓐 𝓯𝓮𝔀 𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓐𝓰𝓸

She looked down. "Where are we going?" She repeated, desperate to change the subject.

He let go of her hand and reached into his coat to pull out two tickets that he handed her. After studying the writing on the tickets, (Y/n) looked up with a curious expression. "An art exhibition?"

He acquiesced with evident delight. "Indeed," he confirmed. "If fate is on our side, we might even be able to acquire some of the masterpieces on display."

She hummed in response, her interest not overly piqued, yet not repulsed by the prospect of the outing either. As they got off the carriage, the duke opened a sleek black umbrella as they walked the streets of London, a stark contrast against the backdrop of the setting sun casting an orange hue across the horizon.

"Aren't you protected by your ring?" she asked under her breath as she observed the scenery.

Passersby, less fortunate people, were looking at them with interest. There was something so striking about that. Here she was, dressed in lavish garments fit for royalty when all her life, she had simply been a peasant girl. Months ago, (Y/n) would have walked the same streets without anyone batting an eye.

"I am," he replied, revealing his adorned ring with a subtle flourish. "But the feeling of its rays against my skin is still unpleasant."

As they entered a grand beige building in the city, the duke gracefully presented their tickets to the attendant at the door. A quick survey of the room revealed a vast exhibition hall, bustling with people. They were all aristocrats, but as she observed everyone's mannerisms, (Y/n) became fairly certain that these men and women in elegant clothes were human.

A hopeful smile graced her face as her heart quickened its pace. This could be her chance to escape. Perhaps, she could scream for help. Yes, (Y/n) would scream for help at the top of her lungs and surely someone would come save her.

"He—" Before she could utter a sound, a hand was placed firmly over her mouth, stifling any attempt to scream. Panic surged within her, eyes widening with fear as the reality of her situation.

As she excitedly explored her first art exhibition, some onlookers shot her peculiar glances, but they refrained from commenting. In a gentle voice, the vampire remarked, "I understand this is your first art exhibition, but there is no need to express your excitement so loudly, dear." Speaking audibly for those nearby, he then leaned in, his lips nearly brushing her ear, and whispered, "There are about thirty humans here, most inexperienced in combat. I'd venture to say the odds are in my favor. Care to take the risk, my daughter? It could be an amusing game, though I'd hate to stain the exquisite art on display."

He paused before adding, "This is your second warning today, doll."

The air seemed to constrict as the weight of the vampire's words settled in, an unspoken tension lingering in the space between them. (Y/n) felt the chill that accompanied the subtle shift in atmosphere, a reminder of the power the vampire possessed. She tensed up at the second threat he had given her today and the vampire's hand retreated. (Y/n) bit back a snide remark, knowing retorting wasn't a good idea now.

Realizing she had no way of winning this time, the human continued on with the vampire who navigated the place, marveling at the paintings, drawings, and sculptures. The vampire occasionally lingered, absorbing the descriptions offered with an air of discerning appreciation.

Much to his dismay, most of them weren't for sales, still, the nobleman often tried to bargain and offer astronomical amounts of money for simple art pieces. (Y/n) huffed. With such wealth, her family could lead a life of comfort for generations. If they were still alive, she reminded herself bitterly.

"So much money," she commented in a hushed tone, her eyes flickering over the priceless pieces. "Is there some secret rule stating that vampires must be super wealthy?"

He laughed at that and shook his head. "No, but I would argue that any of us who isn't, simply is dimwitted," he admitted with a confident smile. "After all..."

He trailed off, seemingly having noticed something important. (Y/n) followed his gaze until it landed on a tableau—an inconspicuous painting, beautiful yet seemingly no different from the others. It depicted an old man, almost god-like with wings, holding a child's wings and attempting to remove them with a scythe. A grim sight, indeed, but it still didn't explain the vampire's peculiar interest.

"Saturn Clipping the Wings of Cupid," he whispered wistfully what appeared to be the name of the tableau.

"You got it right, good sir," announced the man next to the painting proudly. "From the late Ivan Akimov himself. The original."

The vampire hummed as he arched a sly brow. "Oh, is it really? " he asked with a look of interest.

The enthusiastic salesman nodded eagerly. "Oh, yes," he assured. "Only for 30 pounds*."

(Y/n), bug-eyed, stared at the price tag. It was expensive—too expensive for her comprehension. Her incredulity deepened when she witnessed the duke pull out his checkbook, seemingly unfazed by the ridiculous large sum.

"30 pounds for the original one does sound reasonable," the duke commented and the salesman smiled at that. However, the vampire's demeanor shifted as he paused and sneered, his tone cutting through the air. "But, a fake is worth nothing."

The salesman's face flushed a deep shade of red. "Are you insinuating that this is a fake?"

"Oh no, I am not insinuating anything," the vampire chuckled, shaking his head. But the humor dissipated rapidly, and his expression turned sour. "I am saying that people like you shouldn't dare enter these places to try to swindle money with mediocre copies."

Whispers and snide comments rippled through the bystanders as they watched the confrontation unfold. The salesman, now sweating bullets, struggled to maintain composure amid the growing anger. The salesman, now faced with the exposure of his deception, stammered incoherently, attempting to salvage what remained of his credibility. The onlookers, once drawn to the allure of the artwork, now regarded it with a newfound skepticism.

The vampire stepped forward, approaching the portrait to scrutinize it closely. (Y/n) just watched like all the others. "The scythe is too small," he critiqued, crossing his arms with an air of authority. "The beard isn't quite the right shade of grey, and any connoisseur of the arts of the era would notice the muscles aren't defined enough. This is a pathetic imitation."

The salesman practically leaped in rage towards the duke, his face contorted with fury. Yet, the vampire, possessing a supernatural grace and speed, effortlessly sidestepped the attack. The mansion's guards were summoned to intervene, ensuring that the confrontation didn't spiral into chaos.

The charlatan, now surrounded by vigilant guards in imposing uniforms, found himself escorted out of the grand estate. The vampire sent him one last disgusted glance. As the guards guided the disgraced salesman away, the vampire turned to face the onlookers, his demeanor shifting effortlessly. With a practiced charm, he sent a captivating smile to those who had witnessed the unraveling drama. It was as if he had performed a well-rehearsed act.

As the noblemen and women continued to admire the vampire aristocrat with fascination, (Y/n) couldn't suppress the twist of disgust within her. If only they knew what he truly was, their admiration would turn to fear and horror. All vampires were nothing more than monsters cloaked in a convincing human disguise, a disguise that concealed the horrifying nature that lurked beneath. His charismatic smile, the graceful movements, and the impeccable manners were a well crafted mask.

They left the grand estate shortly after the vampire had acquired something to his liking - an authentic tableau this time - for 40 pounds. The carriage passed through the evening landscape as they left the city and a chance for her to flee.

As they left in the carriage, (Y/n) couldn't help but voice a question she had. "You really remembered so many details about a specific painting?" she inquired.

He smiled, a reminiscing glint in his eyes. "Of course, I was there with Akimov at the time he was making it. It was around fifty years ago, I believe," he replied.

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

*30 pounds at that time = 3651,90 pounds today = 4652,52 US Dollars

£1 in mid victorian era would cost £121.73 today according to what I've read. Don't quote me on that though. XD

Also, here is the painting mentioned.

[erosuguru]

Hidden Bride

Sae itoshi x reader, royalty x commoner marriage au, characters are 18+, Sae is a little ooc, reader is female, Shidou being gross cameo, reader has a considerably younger sibling, approx 2287 words

CW: none, maybe very VERY slightly suggestive towards the end? No proof reading

Note: I’m so sleepy waaa blew off studying to finish this lol sobs, not super proud of this but I was gonna explode if I didn’t write prince Sae related thingy so enjoy !!

news spread like wildfire in the kingdom when the Royal family announced their oldest son was looking for a bride, everyone had assumed that Prince Sae would marry a woman of similar status however he had refused any offers and suggestions of who he should marry and insisted that he would choose the woman who would become his bride. 

His parents tried talking him out of it, they introduced him to a wide selection of women who were of age to marry and yet Sae didn’t spare them a glance, most girls were either after his family’s wealth and status or they had fallen for his mysterious nature without actually knowing a lick of information about him to which he found pathetic. No matter who was presented, he would be filled with irritation and would discard the suggestions with a disgusted frown.

Sae’s denials echoed in the palace hallways to anyone who dared mention the topic to him, insisting that if he’ll marry a woman then he’ll make sure she’s worthy of him and not just because of the coincidental similarity of their blood being royal.

No one knew what method he would go about for choosing a bride, his routine consisted of finishing his daily responsibilities and he would head out with a single guard (a hand-picked guard he decided was fitting to stand with him after monitoring a training session, although he could do without his blabbering and lewd comments), the guard had told him his full name but he’d only caught ‘Shidou’, not caring enough to remember his full name.

For weeks, Sae would follow his usual pattern of searching: walk around the marketplace, study the civilians who would sell, purchase or just peruse and then go home unsatisfied. His search would be unsuccessful every time he went left, no one displayed behavior that promised an obedient queen, all he saw was nonchalant faces or slack-jawed surprised expressions at his presence, as if his people couldn’t believe he’s a real person and not an unreachable deity of some sort.

Every time he returned to the palace, Everyone around him nagged him that he can’t just stare at civilians and hope to magically find a bride, to which he’d always reply: “as if you have the capacity to understand”, these advisors, his parents, no one understood the vitality of the issue. He believed his parents’ marriage was sheer luck, that their marriage and the fact that they loved each other was the outcome of some bored wager made by fate. As for his advisors, what do they know anyway? They were all old men that cupid himself would be repulsed by, either divorced or destined to die alone.

The one time he leaves palace walls to unwind in the fields beyond the town borders he finally saw a chance of ending these foolish theatrics of bride hunting.

Sae walked down the path trying to think of his current options, either continue his needle-in-a-haystack search for a bride or accept some air-headed rich girl. His main goal out of wedlock was to simply produce an heir and mold them to perfection, he figured he should be able to find a tolerable lover to make this burden less bothersome.

before his mind could even reach a conclusion, he felt something hit his back, he froze in confusion and slowly turned to find… a child? with what he assumed was an angry face, the child’s attire seemed to imply it was from one of those families that preferred to stay on the outskirts of the territories for god knows what reason, the fabric and cut looked different than the ones civilians would wear deeper in the town. A wooden carved toy was on the ground near him, so that’s what hit him.

“Go back to your dumb palace, royal scom!”

‘Scom’? …Did it mean to say ‘scum’? Sae’s guard, Shidou who had been quietly following behind him approached the child with an irritated expression telling him to back off, he was almost tempted to stop his guard to see what this child was raving on about.

Sae knew there were people who opposed the ruling family but he hadn’t known that the influence would reach kids like this, how did this child even recognize him? Before anything could escalate, he saw another figure approach

The figure looked to be near Sae’s age, their features and clothes matched the child’s save for the fact that her features were more feminine and her outfit was best described as a common everyday dress, one that a family with decent savings would give their daughter. He watched her hold the child’s hand and reprimand them softly yet sternly, at least that’s what he assumed from her expression and whatever words his ears had caught

“Where did you go?! You know better than to run off!”

“But he was-“

“No buts! You’re in big trouble! Do you know who this is..?!”

Her voice was laced with concern, she didn’t have the cruelty to be angry at a child for their simple curiosity yet she couldn’t let this child frolic away from the situation without proper lecturing. Sae stopped his over-analyzing as his eyes met hers, Shidou moved forward.

“Listen missy, get that kid of yours on a leash! Or else-“

“Shidou, back off.”

The prince stepped forward, he approached the girl and as he did, the child lifted their small fists as if ready to fight, the girl immediately ushered the child behind her legs stuttering excuses.

“Its.. an honor to be in your presence like this, your royal highness! I apologize for my sibling’s behavior- they’re very wary of strangers.“

‘Sibling’? So this isn’t her child, Sae assumed that she was unmarried then as usually commoner families children would not be married off at this age, unlike royal families that rushed to build family trees and secure heirs.

“What is your name, maiden?” He examined her as he spoke, she acted like a cornered wild animal, worried that she and her sibling would receive punishment for the child’s careless words. She responded with her name.

“I see, I’d like to have a word with your parents.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Your parents wouldn’t believe you if you told them the prince himself was in the fields outside town, its a good thing he’d insisted.

Your mother pulled you aside to help prepare a meal for the prince even after he assured he wasn’t hungry, you could hear your father try to interrogate him discreetly and Sae replied smoothly to everything he threw at him. You could feel Sae’s calculative stare as you tried keeping busy assisting your mother at preparing the meal.

You were called over by your father, you mentally thanked the gods for their discussion ending, you could not have prepared yourself mentally enough.

“Your daughter possesses the proper attributes to be my wife, I will be marrying her.” the prince’s utterance sounded more like a command rather than a question.

Your heart fell to your stomach, immediately a look of shock was evident on your features, Sae didn’t know whether to laugh or awe at it. Your father had a look that did not hide the murderous intent, he wanted you to hear this directly from the supposed ‘honorable prince’.

After your parents took a moment to discuss this seriously, the prince waited outside your home ignoring his guard’s rambling about you. Your family decided to allow you to choose, they didn’t want to throw you to the prince however they were worried about what would happen if they denied him a bride. 

You thought about how this position as the prince’s bride would help you help your family directly, at least you would be able to live in the town instead of making those exhausting back and forth trips, even if the prince would move the small home you lived into town as it is you would be happy.

Opening the front door after your parents had a tearful last discussion with you, the prince turned away from his guard.

“And I’m telling you- those hips? perfect for-“

“Shut your mouth, horny demon.”

The prince swiftly silenced the guard, you suspected what they were talking about given the smug look on the guard’s face but decided against thinking about it. The prince approached you, waiting for your answer.

“Well, maiden? What is your answer?”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You felt out of place, like a doll made of wood among porcelain figures, Sae had hired trainers and tutors for anything and everything he deemed necessary for you to learn as his wife. An etiquette consultant for dinners, dancing instructor for balls, to top your busy days off the tailor regularly visited you in your quarters to drop off dresses and such you were expected to wear around your husband or in the ‘comfort’ of your new home.

The change was exhausting to deal with and even now, a month after the overly extravagant wedding, you found yourself struggling to keep up with Sae’s expectations although he seemed lenient enough towards you.

Speaking of your husband, he rarely showed you any affection at all. he had small ways of showing you he did care but it takes a sharp eye to notice.

on your wedding day Sae kept his hand over your shaking one as a silent way to comfort you, in a moment of privacy during the wedding he had whispered to you lowly and smoothly as if you were an antique fragile doll: “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you”

he would reprimand your instructors if he received word of them being cruel to you, Sae was usually calm and collected but you had wondered what happened for your ballroom instructor to apologize so earnestly to you the next time you had a lesson.

The last thing you can think of that reminded you of Sae’s genuine feelings was his cool gaze, if his eyes were to sweep a room and briefly stop at you- you could feel it. an enveloping feeling overwhelms you whenever he stared at you, even if you were in your deepest sleep you could feel it. You never felt threatened or scared of his observance; it made you feel safe in this foreign setting, as if a constant reminder of your wedding day.

Another day in this royal hell has been completed, you recently bid farewell to your tailor who had dropped off the final batch of clothes for you, the newest garments were nightgowns soft to the touch made of the smoothest silk Sae could find. as you examined one of the many nightgowns you felt flustered at how revealing they are, some were translucent others were a bit short- you had no idea how royals were able to indulge in these.

You heard the room door open and close, turning away from the clothes you saw your husband removing his baroque-patterned vest allowing his white shirt to flow off his chest, you heard him putting away the vest while you were putting away the nightgowns and that familiar feeling would wash over you; he was examining you.

The room was quiet and you could hear him slowly approach, Sae took his sweet time examining the view, you looked adorably clueless trying to act oblivious to his movements until he settled his hands on your shoulders. He had to hold back a smile at the way you squirmed at the feeling of his cold hands contact your skin.

“They look lovely,” he muttered, looming over you to examine the clothes. He leaned down to your ear as if to coax you out of your shyness that you harbored so closely when you were around him “would you like to wear this for the night?”

“.. Are you sure? Is it not too revealing..?”

“Nonsense, you’re my wife and I am your husband, I would love to see you in any and all appearances.”

His suggestion made you more flustered than you already were and yet for some reason you found yourself nodding slowly, he took the liberty to help you out of your dress unable to keep his eyes from wandering across any newly exposed parts of your body. He found you divine, a hidden gem in this cave of boring rocks who weren’t even worth a second glance.

You knew your place, he loved that about you, you kept your head down when you needed but you weren’t completely submissive to the point of being pushed around easily by equals.

Removing the dress fully, he took this chance to glide one hand down from your shoulder to your arm and slipping to your waist, pulling your back to his chest as he let out a sigh that made your heart quicken.

“You’re radiant, whether fully dressed or completely bare.”

The nightgown he chose from the collection showed off your shoulders, he landed a kiss onto your exposed shoulder, his hold on your waist returning after he’d helped you slip on the silk comfortably. This is the first time he’s been this openly affectionate with you, the stress of his search and the relief of finding a bride were the only two things he could think about right now.

He kissed at your neck, featherlight kisses tickling your skin as he resisted the urge to continue, he didn’t want to force you into intimacy so early into your marriage as to not scare you off. he snapped out of his lustful haze when he felt your hands settle over his that were around your waist as if to assure him that you’re here, his bride, his queen.

This night would bestow another sound slumber to the newlyweds.

[herinsectreflection]

To Live So Close To The Spotlight (The Zeppo)

I have, in essays past, referred to Xander Harris as one of the most controversial characters in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. After spending more time in the current fandom landscape, I need to correct that statement. He’s simply one of the most disliked characters in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. A lot of people hate him, and given his appearances up until now, it’s not entirely difficult to see why. Xander is an archetypical example of what I will call the Mild Nerd Guy; a trope born out of the 1980s and its Revenge Of The Nerds-led championing of geek culture. A trope that unfortunately came to dominate genre television throughout the 1990s and 2000s.

This is a character who is defined in opposition to more typical Dashing Action Hero archetypes. Where the Action Hero is strong and muscle-bound, the Mild Nerd Guy is physically weedy. He is often shy and lacking in self-confidence. He will appear creepy when he means to be charming – but in an innocent way that encourages us to feel sympathy with this helplessly befuddled young man. He has interests coded as “nerdy” – comic books, science, maths, Dungeons and Dragons. He will be unsuccessful with women, and more often than not will concentrate all his sexual energy onto a single desired target: a popular and attractive woman. This woman will - at least at the beginning of the story – neglects his silent pining in favour of clearly undeserving Bad Boys and Popular Jocks. This is where you get is your Scott Pilgrims, your Ross Gellers, your Tom Hansens, your Every Character Anthony Michael Hall Ever Played… and yes, your Xander Harrises. 

In essence, the Mild Nerd Guy is an alternate model of masculinity, one that certain types of men (shy, nerdy, physically weak) may relate to more than the Dashing Action Hero archetype. Unfortunately, while the trope often presents these men as more respectful towards women than their counterparts, the reality is that female autonomy is a secondary concern in both cases. These are competing models that men can use to Earn Women. Neither is actually concerned with the desires and goals of the women involved at all. 

The Mild Nerd Guy has obvious parallels to the sociological concept of the Nice Guy, a term that most in feminist circles should be comfortably au fait with by now. The Nice Guy feels deserving of the attentions of women solely because of his lack of overt hostility towards them, and resents them when this “niceness” is not immediately rewarded with sexual favours. While the two concepts should not be conflated – one is a writing trope while the other is a social phenomenon – they are inextricably linked. Media informs the way we interact with the world, and the world informs the way we interact with media. Male entitlement engorges itself with stories of men winning women through inaction - the implication being that men deserve the attentions of women by default, and should be upset when it is not automatically bestowed upon them.

Meanwhile, women who have firsthand experience of this entitlement and the behaviour it encourages will naturally be fed up with it, and will bring that frustration into their consumption of media. They will take one look at a Scott Pilgrim or Xander Harris and be immediately, justifiably repulsed. While the more fantastical crimes of Angel or Spike can be easily forgiven, everyday crimes cannot. Most women have never met a serial killer. We’ve all met a creepy nerd. 

This is not a criticism of viewers who have reacted in that way. The common accusation of Xander being a “Nice Guy” I believe an inaccurate read on his character and a misuse of a term meant for the analysis of reality and not fiction. However, I can’t blame anyone who makes that instinctive leap. In fact I would say that bringing one’s own experiences to the consumption of media is the only correct way to watch television. And yet, I can’t count myself truly among that crowd. Despite my distaste for the simpering entitlement this trope has encouraged in male nerd circles, and despite the times I have been disgusted by a line Nicholas Brendon has been made to deliver thus far, I can’t say that I don’t like Xander. In fact, I would say I like Xander, and this episode is a big reason why.

Read More

[milkywaydrabbles]

Hello!

You could do a body worship for Alucard Castlevania, we know that he has that scar on his chest, plus the ones that could have been left from so many battles and maybe that makes him think that his wife feels repulsed by him, but quite the opposite! Please and thank you for giving us your writing!

A/N: It was a little difficult seeing where this was gonna go in the beginning-I decided to make this more loving than a kinktober type deal, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!! MWUAH

Body Worship x Alucard

You can feel Alucard distancing himself. It’s subtle. Unnoticeable really, to anyone who didn’t know him. But you did. And you can feel how he’s been detaching himself from society; from you. When you first noticed it, you thought the worst immediately: he didn’t love you anymore. He didn’t want to be with you, there was something wrong, he was trying to figure out a way to ask for a separation. But you calmed yourself enough to really look closer at how he was acting--and while the little voice in the back of your mind still taunted you and tried to trick you into thinking you’re the problem, you knew that wasn’t the case. But now that brings a different set of problems: Why wasn’t he saying anything about what was troubling him? You didn’t want to push it, especially since it was barely noticeable that there were any issues at all. You tried to coax it out of him, dropping things like ‘you know I’m always here if you need support right?’ or  ‘I love you Adrian, I’m here for whatever you need’. He just smiled and nodded as normal, though it didn’t reach his eyes the way it normally does.  You think you’d bring it up soon.

Alucard came home as normal in the evening time after helping the village’s men dispose of the remainder of the night creature bodies--it was a random attack, of some desperate stragglers trying to feed--hunched over and tired. You were by his side at the door, kissing his cheek and whispering ‘welcome home’ as normal, taking hold of his hand with a squeeze. There was that sad smile again. “Adrian, honey--what’s going on?” You asked, scared to raise your voice higher than a whisper. “You haven’t been acting like yourself recently.” You could see the gears turning in his mind, either steadying himself to tell you the truth, or make up some excuse--you weren’t sure which one. “I’m...simply tired, my love. I’m sorry for worrying you.” You sighed, knowing he decided for the latter. “Let me help you relax then, I’ll bathe you--”

“It’s alright.” Alucard mentally cursed himself at how quickly he rejected your offer, seeing you wince. He tried again. “It’s...it’s okay, darling. I’ll be quick. I’ll meet you in bed, yes?” He went to the room after that. 

That nasty parasite of self doubt and loathing ate itself deep into your body, nesting in your heart as you tried to keep your composure while Alucard finished his bath. You tried to keep it at bay, especially after the last few weeks, but it was becoming so overbearing you weren’t sure if you could actually convince yourself anymore that he wasn’t avoiding you anymore. You laid in your shared room, almost having half a mind of sleeping in one of the guest rooms to give him space, but you don’t think your heart could take it if he decided not to come and find you. You busied yourself with a book, hoping it gets you tired quickly so you can at least rest for the evening. You heard the door click open, and trained your eyes on the pages in front of you, blinking away anxious tears that settled in your eyes.  Silently the dhampir climbed into bed and kissed your temple, your body tensing up when he got close. You were hoping the dull lighting would help you, but you knew better than to think his senses weren’t heightened enough to notice something off. 

“Darling, you’re crying.” Fuck. “What’s wrong?” You heard the genuine concern in his tone, and you weren’t sure how to continue from there. “Just been a day, I’ll be alright.” You tried to be as strong as he’s been, brushing it off, but he was persistent. “No, we need to talk about it. What’s going on sweetheart?” You couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

He paused, in surprise. 

“Something’s been off for weeks Adrian, don’t think I can’t tell. I’ve tried to give you time to talk to me about it, I’ve tried asking, but you keep shoving me off.” Your voice was breaking, tears now flowing freely. “You’re not talking to me, it’s making me nervous. We haven’t even been...intimate with each other, for weeks now. Do you not--”

You stopped yourself, having to rephrase your question, it would have killed you otherwise to know if he didn’t love you anymore.

“Do you want a divorce?”

At that, his hands flew to your face, holding you like you were a delicate flower--brows furrowed and eyes scared. “Of course I don’t--I love you more than anything in the world.” Desperation filled his words. “You are my most precious treasure, I couldn’t live without you--”

“--Then what’s going on?” 

He sighed, wiping your tears away before retracting his hands, staring down at the calluses that have formed over the years. “I’m...scared. I look at myself in the mirror and find nothing but a monster staring back. These scars, are--..they’re hideous, you don’t deserve a monster like me. You deserve so much more than this--and I fear one day you’ll recognize that.” It was your turn to wipe away his tears, he didn’t realize he’d begun crying. You had climbed into his lap before he knew it, stern look on your face. “Don’t you dare ever speak about my husband like that again, do you understand?” He blinked, cocking his head to the side. You continued,

“It’s okay to feel vulnerable, everyone has off days of self consciousness--but don’t you ever call yourself a monster. I love you Adrian Tepes. I love you more than I need oxygen to breathe. You are no monster, and you are not hideous in any way. Are you listening to me? You’re everything to me.” 

Your hands trailed down his chest, tugging at his shirt, silently pleading him to just take the damn thing off. He concedes, barely, and assists you in peeling the clothing off, unable to look you in the eyes. You frown. “You know what I see?” You whisper, hands tracing the major scar on his chest, and branching off to the smaller ones. “I see strength, and courage, and someone who puts his own fears aside for the ones he loves. I see a man who puts his life on the line to protect others--even strangers.” You lean down and start placing kisses on his shoulders, and start your way down his chest. “I see someone who loves, someone who is kind, someone who is worthy of love and kindness too.” You hear his breathing hitch, a tremble in his breathing as he tries to steady himself. You press on, shimmying lower off his lap and pulling at the sheets. “I see a man who gives his all to everyone around him, and never asks for any of it back. I see a man who never takes, even if he deserves to.” You plant more kisses around his adonis belt, and his hips, grazing your teeth on his skin.

He’s crying now, you know, and he still tries to hide. Alucard shuts his eyes so tight it feels like his lids will rip. He’s been torturing himself for the last few weeks, feeling the ugliest he thinks he ever has. And not because he thinks his physical attraction has lessened, but because of the monster he sees every night in the mirror. His skin is littered with the remains of battles and war, etched forever on his body the horrors he’s endured. And he sits in his loathing, and then looks at you--this angelic being that has made home in his heart, and he wonders how you love him like you do. He wonders what you see in him, how it could possibly be different than what he sees in himself. And now, after all this torture to himself, he listens to you wax poetry about him, how you are so terribly in love with him, and it overwhelms him so much he can’t help but cry. But still, he doesn’t feel worthy of it all, and so he tries to shrink away, but you won’t let him. 

“Look at me, Adrian.” 

You’ve trailed back up, except now your robe is off and you’re sitting in only your underwear. Your body also has scarring, from battles that you’ve endured in your life also. From men before him who have put you in harm’s way. From night creatures who have attacked your previous village. You have markings that your body has naturally given you, because you’ve grown. Scars and marks are littered on your skin, and you bare yourself to Alucard regardless of it all. Tears continue to flow, though you’re whipping them away. His hands trace your body, squeezing the sides and fingertips touching the raised bumps. You let him explore, bringing his hands to the even larger wounds that he hadn’t traced yet, as if he refuses to acknowledge that you’ve been through such pain. He wishes he could take them away. 

Alucard’s hands find purchase on your back and press you to his chest, feeling contact with your skin grounding him. “I’m sorry...” He chokes out, ashamed of how he’s been treating you over his own insecurities. You shake your head anyways, hands raking through his curls. “Don’t apologize, my sweet boy. Just let me love you.” He whimpers, and nods against your chest, moving in tandem with you. Your hips move up to allow him to push his pants down far enough to release his hardening cock, and you rub yourself against him still clothed. You hear him sigh, tightening his arms around you as you do so. “I love you so much.” He murmurs against your skin, hand dipping between your bodies to pull your underwear to the side and prod at your entrance, slowly dipping into your wet heat with a groan. Your fingers tighten in his hair--it’s been some time since you’ve felt him like this, the stretch stinging just a bit as you get used to him again. “Adrian--” You moan, grinding down on his lap. “I love you, you’re perfect for me, you’re everything I need--” You continue your praise as you find a rhythm, bouncing yourself on his lap. He’s overwhelmed, your very presence pushing him into euphoria. The doubts and hatred he had for himself dissipated with each clench of your pussy, with each praise you’re whining into his ear. “Darling, I won’t last tonight--I’m s-sorry.” He grinds out between clenched teeth, nails digging into your hips. You continue fucking yourself on his cock, tits pressed against his chest. “I want to feel you Adrian, please--please, fill me up.” You beg, kissing his face, wherever your lips can get to. You press kisses on his forehead, his temple, his cheeks and nose and chin and finally his lips. You feel him buck into you, meeting your bounces with thrusts of his own. You whisper sweet nothings in his ear: ‘You’re an angel, Adrian’ , ‘you’re my world’ , ‘You’re so beautiful’. 

He doesn’t last much longer after that, crying into your shoulder as he tenses and cums inside your pussy. You don’t dare let him go, combing through the tresses around him with your fingers. I love you, I love you, I love you. He chants those words in his mind until he calms himself enough to say them out loud, to declare his love to you in that moment and every moment after that.