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cuddl3s4shur1 · 1 year

Text

Totally Not In Love

Inspired By: Abbott Elementry Janeen and Gregory Paring: Teacher riri x Art Teacher Y/n

Summary: Your a new art teacher at a elementary school

Authors Note:Bro Janine and Gregory ARE OBVI IN LOVE idc what anybody says they like each other

Also i would like to say im sorry for like not making story and publishing them I lowkey having been making 3 or 4 stories at the same time and than I would take breaks . So its been all over the place but I'm glad to say I'm almost done with a few and I will start making parts to somestorys you guys have been waiting for (Proud Family , When All Said And Done..Take time, Betrayed etc.) It might take more time for the stories to gett written because I at least want each story to be over 1-2,000 words. Other than that I have no annoucments

Ps:This was not revised and it is unedited if you see grammar issues either let me know or keep it to yourself

Anygays I hope you enjoy the story and or my writing style

- Xoxo Cuddles

Taglist: @saintwrld @inmyheadimobsessed @shuriislut @2k7-sparkles @locoforshuri @writesbyriri @secretgyals @lunax0654 @letitias-fav @shuri-my-love @ziayamikaelson @h34rtsformilli @malltake12 @adeola-the-explorer @niaalove @atssukoo @randomhoex

-If you would like to be added to the Taglist comment in a story ✨

Music:I made a music playlist for the story it is optional to listen to it but i do recommend it sense I used some the community’s favorite songs (WHICH I LOVEEE) I hope you enjoy the playlist

playlist

Sneak Peak👀:If only you could grip on my hair or neck like the way you grip on that little paint brush

Today was the day you had been waiting for, the day you got to decorate your art class.

When you told people in your family about your passion for teaching they thought you were joking . Especially your mother, she overall thought you shouldn’t be a teacher while your sister thought you should. But the main reason you wanted to teach was to help kids and move out of your moms house. You hated how your sister and mother would always fight over dumb stuff.

Chicken or Chicken Nuggets Lasagna or Mac and Cheese Jeans Or Leggings

Overall you got tired of it . So you put more thought into your career and found a job as an art teacher at a school. Vikington Elementary. Even though the school had a pretty weird name you liked the place, and the teachers, and you were going to like the students.

You get out of your car and you open your trunk to get a box out . The box had all your decorations for your class minus the chairs and tables you ordered. You close your trunk and lock your car doors. You begin to walk to the school entrance “Do you need help” you hear a voice ask you. “Yeah if you could open the door it would be great “ you say . The person opens the door and you begin to walk to your classroom. You see a slight glimpse of what they look like . She had cornrows and she was in a graphic tee and sweatpants that matched the shirt .

You try to look for the person who opened the door for you but the person was nowhere to be found. You open the box and you begin to take everything that was in the box . You take out the aprons and you hang them on the hooks next to the door . You take out your desk accessories and you decorate your desk the way you wanted to. You take out your white board decorations and you write “Welcome to art with Ms. L/n '' . You close the marker and place the marker on your desk. You get the last things in your box , Your paintings. You looked over for a chair that was sturdy and some tape but you found none.

You walk out your class and head to closest class next to you . “Hey not trying to bother you or anything but do you have tape and a chair “ you ask the unknown person. “Yeah I have those” the voice responded not looking at you. You think ‘that voice sounds familiar but maybe I'm trippin ‘ . They go to there desk and they search for the tape. Once they find it they give you the tape and know all you needed was a chair. “And the chair “ you reminded the person. ��Yeah “ They hand you a chair and you head back to your classroom. “Im Ms.Udaku” she yells . You nod as you leave . You place the chair where you needed it and you begin to get on the chair . You get your art poster and you get you pieces of tape ready . You get on the chair and start to tape your first artwork. You feel the chair start to wobble and you fall back . You feel a person catch you . “Thanks “ you say as you look back to see who caught you. You see Ms,Udaku.

Camera Interview: Y/n “When I looked back to see Ms.Udaku it kinda felt embarrassing” Y/n says, giving a side eye to the camera.

“You can let me go now” You say remending Ms.Udaku to let you go. “Oh yeah sorry” she says and she places you up to stand . “ Thanks again that was nice of you , You're like spider girl or supergirl,”.Shuri gives the camera a side eye. You say trying not to be awkward causing it to be awkward. “Thanks I guess,” she says, forcing a smile. “I’m L/n Its nice to meet you” I say leaving my hand out to dap her . She daps me up and responds “Its uh nice to meet you Ms.L/n “ she says with a smile .

Camera Interview : Shuri “I don’t think she know i'm the black Panther but its all cool”

“Can you help me with these posters I was trying to hang them up until you know “ I ask shuri. Shuri was taller than me. “Sure” she says you hand her the tape and the prints and she begins to put them on your walls. “Did you make this art that i'm hanging up” she asks you. “Yeah I made them,” you responded . “ You're really good at art ,BUt you probably know your art teacher, “ shuri says. You can tell she was nervous about something but you couldn’t put your figure on what.

Camera Interview: Shuri “She’s a really great artist I will definitely buy some of her art” Shuri Says showing a smile

“You're right, an art teacher should like art, “ you say laughing . “Which one is your favorite?” she asks you . “Um i like the princess and the frog one the best” you say as you point to the picture. “Mhm , I like your proud family one” she says as she points to the picture.Shuri finishes putting the pictures on the wall so you invite her to your desk. You sit in your desk chair and she pulls a classroom chair and sits with you. As she sits down on the chair she begins to ask you a question “Um so What are your hobbies”

Camera Interview: Y/n “She’s awkward but i can see us being work buddies” You say ending with no emotion in the face.

You begin to face shuri and respond to her question . “My hobbies…” you mouth some sound coming out. You feel eyes on your lips so you break the eyes off of you lips and answer the question. “My hobbies mhm I like art Which you can tell “ shuri does a slight laugh at you answering. “I like sleeping. I'm really good at that but don't get enough sleep,” you say laughing . “I like eating. I'm really good at fashion . Fashion is like my second main hobby , and baking. I like eating so I know how to bake and cook.” During telling shuri your hobbies, you heard scattered laughter from her . “But what about you what are your hobbies “ you ask shuri wondering. “Well i like designing and science sometimes planting but designing and science are my main “ you nod and smile . “Thats nice I didn’t see you as a plant person” you say . “Oh mhm” shuri says lifting eye brows.

You hear footsteps in the hallway till they stop. You begin to look at your doorway . You move your chair to look at who it could be . You look at the lady confused on who it is . “Hello Im Ms. L/n '' you say waving to the unknown teacher. “Oh I’m Ms. Willam's You can call Riri though , I was looking for shuri '' she finishes . “oh Shuris right there but i guess you can call me Y/n '' say . Shuri gets up and begins to talk with riri.

Shuri steps in the hallway and begins to talk with riri. “Aye, that's the girl I helped with the door . She seems cool. I want to be friends with her, you know, past work, "Riri says . Shuri lets out a sigh. “She just got here to relax , we're going to have to chill with her, “ shuri says .

Camera Interview : Riri “Am I in love with someone I haven't exchanged words to … No definitely not “

Shuri and riri begin to walk back into Your art class . You scroll on insta looking at your friends post of her being in italy with her boyfriend Fiance. You read the long caption that she wrote with the picture and you smiled. You had been friends before they got together so to know that they were engaged makes you smile.”who got your feet kicking” Riri says, causing you to do a slight jump. “ I aint mean to scare you ma” she says which catches you off guard. “I was reading my friend's engagement post, “ you say, explaining what made you smile . “Tell them i said congrats “ Shuri says you give her a side eye . “They don’t know you but I guess I'll help them” you say . You thought it would be pretty awkward to tell your friend that but you were going to keep your word. “Well ugh what now “ you say trying not to be awkward but you make it more awkward. Shuri begins to stare and thinks it's cute how you look awkwardly . “Well um maybe sense where co workers we should get to know each other and i see you like to paint so maybe we could do like a paint and sip '' riri says . “That's cool and I could help you if needed,” you say, smiling now. “Yeah i'm definitely going to be needing help” shuri says chuckling you join in on the laugh . “You have a nice smile” shuri says, making you flustered by that simple sentence . “I’ll give yall my number so i can send yall my address for the paint and sip “ you say smiling . You put in their phones and after words you leave so you could get your house together . THis was pretty unexpected but you could never turn down an offer to help people paint especially if they're hot .

✰ You were at home setting up the paint and sip since it was out of the blue you would have to rush. You told them to be here at 7:30. It was now 3:30 so you only had 4 hours to get your apartment together . you call your bestfriend to go get the food and supplies while you are cleaning .” Hey dia can you go to walmart and get some food so i can host this paint and sip for my coworkers shuri and riri” you ask hoping she would go to the store for you . “You're talking about your fine co-workers right ?” she asks you , “I mean if you call them fine yes “ you say as you roll your eyes. “ You should lowkey put me on if you know what i mean” she says you become awkward . “I know what you mean but can you just buy the groceries? '' you say, trying to demand but yet still be cool, calm and or collected.”yeah send me the list “ she says . you hang up and text her the supplies and or food products that you needed for the foods . You start to make your house look presentable. You changed from your school outfit to a chill sweatpants outfit

You hear a knock on the door after you change and you hope it's not shuri and riri . You check your phone to see that it's 4:40 ,probably dia. You open the door and Dia walks in and places the groceries down. “We got to like hurry we got 3 more hours” you say hoping that would help dia be more quick. “Girl i'm going to help you and then imma dip ny invited us to the club but i know you can’t go because you hosting this so when we done ima get lit “ dia says you laugh. Overall you weren’t a club person you didn’t like the loud music, People everywhere it never interested you .”Well enjoy it i guess ,but you can always stay” you say trying to be nice . “mhm” she hums as a response . ✰

Your friend dia already left and shuri and riri should be coming any moment by now- . The doorbell rings look like they're here. You had your speaker playing some music and right now it was playing ‘Outside -Bryson Tiller’ . The song was overall a chill song but when you heard the intro you were thinking about a whole different song with the same intro. You open the door to see riri and shuri . YOu began to stare at the 2. They were looking so fucking fine riri had, on a outfit that showed her toned abs . Shuri had a simple outfit yet it made her legs shine . “Earth to Y/N~” riri says as she snaps . “Oh yeah come in come in , sorry bout that must of zoned out” you say as you blink a couple times . “Or checking us out its ok “ shuri says you roll your eyes at her cockyness . “I prefer what i said i was not checking yall out “ you say as you fidget with your hands.”What ever you say ma,” shuri says as she sits down at your dinning table . It was circular and was all black you had chairs that where grey and black ,“I made so dip than we got some wing stop and hawaiian rolls and uh for drink i got some wine coolers in the freezer so it can be come like a slushie and i got the rest of my drinks in my cabinet “ you say as you either walk to what your talking about or point. “But uh ill give yall the canvas’s and ill go get the paint “ you say as you head to your bedroom to get the canvas’s and paint .

As you walk out your dining room that was connected to your kitchen shuri and riri begin to stare. “Bro we can’t fall for her you know she’s are co worker “ riri says shuri rolls her eyes . “i don’t care i want what i want and what i want is her “ shuri says . All of a sudden the doorbell rings. “Ill get it” y/n yells . She walks out her bedroom without the canvas’s nor paint brushes and or paint. She opens the door and we see a fine lady.Her outfit was cute for clubbing tbh. The whole friend group is just fine tbh . Shuri and riri begin to look at eachother . “Dia what are you doing here “ y/n asks dia. Shuri mouths her name “Dia” . “Girl so i made it the car drove their but than i had to come back i forgot my purse “ she says as she walks to couch to get it . “Be for real how the fuck did you just realize that “ y/n says riri sides eye y/n she never heard y/n cuss before. “Well i didn’t realize it because i had my keys “ y/n rolls her eyes. “Whatever dia” dia looks at the 2 ladys . “You said they weren’t fine” dia says as she trys to whisper to y/n. “You can’t whisper for shit i said if you call them fine than yes “Me and riri give y/n a flirty glare. “Well girl ima see you later also are you coming to club tomorrow “ dia says as she walks to the door . “See you dia , Most likely no but your going to force me so yes “ y/n says as she opens the door . “Good also don’t dress like no teacher , When your at the club you don’t want to look like a teacher “ dia says ,You slowly close the door .”ok i’ll remember” you say as finish closing and locking the door.”Sorry about her “ y/n says .She goes back to her bedroom to get the supplies .

“The whole friend group is fine “ riri whispers to me . “exactly “ i whisper,y/n come in the dinning room area and places down the canvas’s . “Well lets get started “ y/n says as she next to me. ✰

Y/n paints her canvas as she hums to her playlist she hums to the song”Skin Tight By Ravyn Lenae FT Steve Lacy”. We all focus on are painting until i realize i need help with some clouds im doing on my paintings “Y/n could you like help me with making clouds “ i say as i tap her hand with the end of my paint brush . “Yeah shuri i can help you “ she says as she gets up and walks to my chair. “So what your going to do circular motions “ she says i try to follow her direction with my paint brush. “Wait no let me see the brush” I give her the brush and she begins to paint in circular motions . Her hands gripping the brush had me think of what else she could grip on . Lord save me i can’t be thinking those things about my COWORKER . “Alright now you can try” she hands the brush back to me and i try to copy how she did it. She puts her hand on top of mine and begins to take control of how the brush moves . “You wanna go slow and steady you dont want to go fast” she says as she keeps guiding my paint brush to make a cloud. “And thats how you make a cloud she releases her hand from on top of mine . “thanks y/n “ i say she goes back to sitting in her chair . I continue to make the cloud yet i still think about her hand on mine it gave me some type of comfort. As I look at y/n she moves her hips to the beat of song ,’Trance By Metro Boomin Ft Travis Scott and Young thug was playing. “This you shit huh” riri says as she looks at y/n.”Hell yeah this song hitss” you continue to dance in the chair. You paint slowly making sure you get every detail .You take the paint Brush off of the canvas .You look at the canvas and begin to smile . You grab a new brush and grip the brush you begin to dip it on the next color.

Shuri watches the slight changes in brush and color . She likes the way you concentrate on each part of your painting. She sees how each stroke of the paint you make adds to the final portrait.If only you could grip on my hair or neck like the way you grip on that little paint brush .I begin to stop looking at her painting hoping to get those thoughts out of my mind.That dosent work. I trails my eyes down your body . I could tell when you did art you where more calm and loose.”When did you start painting” I would ask in soft voice. My question comes from out of nowhere. I could tell that it caught riri and y/n off guard.”Huh” she asks me not getting my question.”When did you start painting “ I re ask her . “Well I always was a artist my panters said bit I started at 8 months” she says my jaw drops. “8 Months ?” I ask her . “8 months ,My mom would give me a bag that had paint and a canvas and I would just paint” she explains , she takes her eyes off the Canvas and looks at me with a smile.”That’s hella impressive” riri remarks “Also interesting “ I add to riri. Y/n begins to hum as a response .She continues to paint me and riri look at each other than we go back to our paintings.

Shuri and I begin to help y/n with cleaning ,so by the time where done we can chill with y/n while our paintings dry.Shuri does the dishes and I start to take out the trash. “You guys I could’ve cleaned up “ she says . “We know we just don’t want you to clean all by yourself when we can help” I state to y/n. Y/n begins to go to the kitchen ,”You you guys like to take any food home” she questions us. “Sure “ I say I begin to go to the kitchen and make me a plate . I go yo the nearest counter and get some of her paper plates. “Can you make me one to” shuri adds .”I got you” I say and I begin to make me and shuri plates . “You got some foil” i ask her . “Yeah let me get it for you” she begins to move towards me and she gets her stool.she gets on her stool and to get the foil.o begin to look at her body. My eyes trail from her hair to her ass. She stops stretching and gets going bed the foil to me . “Thanks” I say as I grab the foil from her hand. Her thumb caresses my hand. We begin to look at each other. She looks away . She grabs the rest of the left overs and containers for the food.

I invite riri and shuri to the couch.For some reason I didn’t want this night to end not one bit not at all. I enjoyed their energy they were calm and chill about everything. They even helped me with dishes which is lovely . And something I wouldn’t expect sense this would be the first time I invited them over. We begin to talk over wine and vibe to the music playlists . “What’s your funniest school story” shuri asks me. “Well I sent home this form for a field trip to the art museum and one of the parents route the kids nickname and wrote it and crayon” you say as you took a sip of wine . “Are you being serious” riri says with a chuckle. “Yes bro” you say laughing a little.”what’s yours shuri” you ask her .”The kids pranked me for April Fools with water balloons “ she says as she giggles. Shuri had a soft slight and riri had a laugh that would make other people laugh .”what’s yours ri” you ask she was the last one to tell her funny story. “Well this one kid asked me to be his valentine and then on Valentine’s Day he said he found someone else and it was a kid that looked just like me” riri says . You begin to laugh a little you look at shuri and she laughs.

After the somewhat comedy session you guys would talk about favorite colors, childhood,and more work stories. You walk the ladies to The door.”it was really nice hanging with y’all” you say ending with a smile. It really was a good time that you needed sense a week before school would start back you and your boyfriend would split .”I enjoyed your food your a really great cook” riri exclaims with a smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed it “ you say with a smile and you do a slight wink at riri.”You have a really great music taste “ shuri ads to the convo. “I know right ,You where playing ICU at one point and B.E.D Remix” Riri says you do a slight chuckle.Quavo was your favorite part of the remix . “That remix hits buy to be honest quavo carried “ you say. “He did tho ,But how do you get carried on your own song. “ You say now relazing your talking with you hands .You bring your hands down and mumble slightly “sorry”.”So I’ll see y’all at work” you say now just wanting to end the conversation.”Yeah you’ll see us” shuri says. You hug shuri , You would know smell the scent she wore it was some scent with bourbon. You would feel the hug last to last long so you let go and pull away . You hug riri her scent was calm and smelt like coconut.There scents where calm yet could get you hooked. You pull away from the hug and you guys all stair at each other . Shuri try’s to be suddle yet you could tell she was doing the triangle method. “Welp I’ll see y’all later “ you say with a smile .”they walk out and wave.As you close and lock the door you lay your head on the door. “i freshly got out of a relationship , I can’t date and shit” You say you leave from the door way and begin to head to your bedroom to write so you could get it off of your chest .

Meanwhile while you where practically having a break down about why you shouldn’t get with your coworkers, Your coworkers couldn’t stop thinking or talking about you. “Girl shes funny ,she has good music taste ,do i need to explain more “ Riri says . “Your right not even to mention her friend is fine to” shuri adds. “Her friend also mentioned something about the club so that means y/n will most likely dress up “ riri says. “So you thinking what im thinking” ? riri questions shuri. “Where going to the club” they both say at the same time.

130 notes · View notes

softxsuki · 2 years

Note

I originally didn't want to bother you with another request but like..

I was wondering if you could make an urgent request for a reader S/O who has a fever and is sick?? I'd love it for either Attack on Titan (Eren, Levi, Armin) or Tokyo revengers (Chifuyu, Baji, Kazutora/Mitsuya) :3

Thank you sweetie 💕

Love,

Suzy

The AOT Boys With Reader Who Is Sick With A Fever

Pairings: Eren x Gn!Reader, Levi x Gn!Reader, Armin x Gn!Reader

Warnings: sick reader? And this is unedited SO gimme a sec to edit it once I get home NDNDJDN

Genre: Comfort, Fluff?

Post Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: In which Eren, Levi, and Armin (separate) take care of you after you’re sick with a fever ;)

[A/N: Here ya go Suzy. We both know you’re not sick anymore HDJDJKD even my little cold went away so sorry for taking so long 😖. Loaf you 🍞💗]

Eren:

Seen as an enemy now to Paradis, your relationship with Eren, the man you had total faith in, had to be kept a secret otherwise you’d be seen as a traitor as well and Eren didn’t want that

He had tried pushing you away countless times, but you weren’t having it

You couldn’t leave him on his own to do whatever crazy plans he had in mind ALONE

Sooo you both had to settle for a ‘long distance’ relationship where you’d meet together in the dark of the night, every night as everyone went to sleep, at a specific location that you both chose to meet up at

Though, one night you’re struck with a fever and end up staying your room the whole day

Time passes unexpectedly fast and you can’t find the energy to wake up and meet Eren

Eren gets worried thinking something happened to you and rushes to your room, not caring if anyone sees him, he just needs to know you’re okay

He enters your room through your window and sees you sweating under the covers with a crease on your forehead

He shakes you awake because he genuinely wants to know if you’re okay, he isn’t even mad that you didn’t show up to see him, just worried

You tell him how you’re feeling once you awaken, and apologize for sleeping in too long and missing your meet up with him, but he shushes you, because that’s not what’s important

What’s important if you getting better

Has no idea what he’s doing, so you’re going to have to instruct him on what he needs to do to help your fever go down

There isn’t much he CAN do from your room without leaving and risking someone seeing him, but he manages to put a damp towel over your head and cuddles up beside you

No matter how much you push him away, he refuses and holds you closer to him, he needs you to be okay, but you’re the only one he really has left

By the morning though, you’re feeling a lot better and Eren is asleep beside you

You have to rush to wake him up and tell him to leave, but he refuses to leave until you reassure him that you’re better

“Don’t worry me like that again…” he mumbles grumpily and steals a kiss from your lips as someone starts to knock on your door

He jumps right back out the window but has you promise to meet him in your usual spot later that night or else he’ll return to your room

All in all, he’s a lowkey worrier, but will do everything in his power to help you feel better, and that definitely includes you sticking close to him

Levi:

You wake up that morning and meet up with Levi in his office as the two of you usually walk to meet up with the scouts you were training together

But this morning you were feeling particularly weak and cold

Levi notices your sluggish appearance and lifeless face

LISTEN, idc what anyone says; yes, I know Levi is a germaphobe and hates germs, and anything dirty BUT WHEN IT COMES TO THOSE HE LOVES AND CARES FOR to the point where he’s worried, those disgusted feelings completely vanish

He walks over to you firmly and places a hand on your forehead andddd yup, you definitely had a fever

“You didn’t expect me to let you go through training like this, did you? Come,” he instructs you

He doesn’t let you say a word as he brings you to his room that wasn’t so far from his office and tells you to get comfortable as he leaves everything you’d need on the bedside table; medicine, water to drink, and a bowl of cold water with a rag to help cool you down

“Yell if you need me and someone will run to get me, okay? Now, just stay here and rest”

He’s a little unfocused during training and the scouts notice, but no one is stupid enough to actually mention it—they could put two and two together; Levi was worried and you weren’t there

During breaks Levi would come by to check up on you, making you some tea and having the cooks make you something warm and comforting to speed up your recovery

And thanks to his meticulous care the whole day, your fever was completely gone by that evening, but even then, Levi took care of you

Expect an unusually gentle Levi as his worries for you get the best of him and he treats you softly

Armin:

Armin notices right away and turns you back around as you had planned on voyaging outside the walls in your condition

“But I want to go”

“No, you need to stay and rest. I don’t need you in danger, especially in this condition where you could pass out and get eaten by titans at any moment. You’re too vulnerable right now,”

But he stays behind with you and takes care of you as he’d be too worried to focus anyway

This baby is so attentive and caring I swear

He stays with you the whole day, not caring that he could get sick too

If anything, him getting sick would feel like a reward to him because it meant he was around you, caring for you enough that he was even able to catch your sickness

He has a doctor come by to check on you and the doctor reassures him that you’ll be fine in 24 hours, but poor baby is still worried about you

When you fall asleep, he’s leaning in and staring at you to make sure he can see your chest rising and falling–needing to confirm that you’re breathing

He keeps you entertained whenever you’re awake, telling you all kinds of stories and excitedly planning a bunch of things the both of you would do as soon as you were better

Those stories were more-so to calm him down though, just hold his hand to get his attention and remind him that you’ll be fine

He’s super attentive though, offering to massage your back or your feet, making sure you always have a fresh cup of water and delivering your three meals to you throughout the day

He’s actually kind of enjoying himself though, spending a relaxing day with you instead of out out fighting whatever enemies he needed to fight—it was a nice change of pace

So the next day as you’re feeling a lot better and begin getting dressed to go to training, Armin stares at you, looking confused

“Where are you going? Get back in bed”

In which you tell him that you’re much better and ready to get back to work

BUT NO, he will drag you to the doctor and have them confirm it just to be safe—it wouldn’t hurt to have one more day of personal time together though, would it?

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 6/8/2022

321 notes · View notes

thirstyforred · 2 years

Text

my working notes (as in done at work when I should do work instead), unedited, just transcribed

girlies, and i know no one cares because i never wrote that Rissberg fic, but what if Carla Demetia Crest Raven Way was the last living member of the research team by the time of witcher saga and she was totally a GILF? What about that?

And like Salamandra tries to recruit her because she's awesome and authored that only one existing dissertation on witchers and mutagens. But she's like 'no <3', and Azar and Prif are like 'uwu pappy JdA, she doesn't want to work with us :C'. So Jacques sends over Albrecht who's like 'I can hand draw a perfect circle', and Carla is like 'lmao is that supposed to impress me? <3', and then they fuck. YES, Al fucks that grandma. And they bond over their mutual interest in demonology because I never wrote that Rissberg fic, but that's what I actually planned for Carla to be doing at Rissberg, Kiyan idea had to come from somewhere, so it might be from a bunch of guys going 'maybe my experiment will succeed', even tho a woman already told them no, it won't <3

Anyway, Al and Carla work together wasting Salamandra's resources and not making much progress in demon + witchers stuff because of all that sexual tension in the air

and don't tell me that Kiyan and Fail Experiment don't look at least somewhat similar. also don't tell me about Ortolan, I don't care, I'm not read storms or whatever

instead let me tell you how Albrecht dies, because I love making up guys and then killing them silly, it just fucking works, so you know how the Order splits and whoever cares for fire stays with de Lowe and goes to build that totally-not-Malbork in Redania? yeah, so for whatever fucked up reason Order ends up being at war with Redania, and Siegfried ditches this fucking circus before that because clearly no one actually care for good-doing, and Al kinda ends up being in charge, and there's that whole siege of that castle, and now he's acting grandmaster and they're clearly gonna lose, but at this point, he's just so fucking lost, and then he summons something he shouldn't but is all so sure of himself, like 'we're in the chapel stupid demon, you can't do shit to me :D', but the demon is just laughing and goes 'fool, you don't worship the Fire, your faith is in JdA, but Jacques is no more, he was a mortal and now he's dead. Your god is dead and you have no power!' and then Albrecht just gets ripped apart. That would be sick! lowkey vibe of that Castlevania moment with lies? in the house of god? more likely than you think!

anyway one may ask, thirsty, marcin, my bro, what de fuck it has to do with Carla, and i don't know, it's work in progress and i never wrote that fucking Rissberg fic, but trpg has a chapter about demonology in the latest book, i didn't read it like all, because fuck reading and fuck trpg, but there's that mechanic that lets PCs bind the demon to themselves, and when you bind Bes and it gives like dexterity and shit like that, or claws, idc, anyway Greater Binding done by Carla, she's now fresh as ever after 400 years of girlbossing

#albrecht tag #rissberg

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seasonal-shifts-au-fanartfunart · 4 years

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Father Christmas-Father Winter

We interrupt our regularly scheduled asks for a Christmas fic because A) inspiration from one of @marvelfangeek09‘s comments: #also i know youre joking but i have NO DOUBT that patton dressed up as santa and magicked a bunch of presents into peoples houses and B) I literally got kinda excited about the Tiniest little inch of snow on the ground this morning. and I’m gonna call this my summery.

Words: 1590~

Warnings: Look. Everything Winter!Patton related tends to get a bit melancholy at the end, I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I promise, this was supposed to just be cute and fluffy. Tell me if there’s anything I need to note.

Patton knew Good ‘Ol Saint Nick. He even still had the little cloak the man had given him. It was obviously too small for him to wear now, but, he still kept it in his room. (He knew exactly where it was too, it was folded neatly in a keepsake chest that he’d decorated to mimic a wrapped present with a little bow). Either way- Patton knew Saint Nicolas, so he didn’t mind that the little presents got attributed to him now. Besides, if he let everybody know it was him, the whole thing wouldn’t be half as rewarding or fun.

He did, however, miss when kids asked for things he could like... actually make.

“What even IS that,” He whispered, staring at the letter. “Ok, ok- um, maybe she’ll like... maybe a rocking horse? ah- no that’d be too big, I don’t think the parents would forget that- A doll is always a safe bet-”

“Santa?”

Patton stiffened. This is what he gets for talking to himself. Patton turned, smiling at the little girl as he leaned down to her level. “Hello little miss- uh-” he spared a glance to the letter, “Miss Jemima, is it? Whatever are you doing up?”

She tilted her head, “You’re younger than I thought.”

Patton smiled, nose crinkling as he restrained a laugh, “No kiddo, I’m just older than I look. I’m a good several thousand years old you know.”

The girl grasped his cheeks and pushed his cheeks up so it made crinkles around his eyes. She nodded decisively, “Ok.”

Patton laughed and pulled his face out of the child’s hands, “It’s very late, Miss Jemima, I’d think you’d be asleep.”

“The bells woke me up.” Jemima said, eyes fixed on the small set of bells that adorned the red outfit Patton wore (despite the fact that red was more Roman’s color than his).

She gasped, “Where’s the reindeer?”

Patton’s eyes widened. As much as he liked to indulge the imaginations of the world, he was not about to use all his energy to take flying reindeer of all things around a global trip. He just blipped across the world like he did normally. But- He pointed to the roof, and ever so slightly dropped the intimidate temperature so the wood in the roof of the house creaked. Close enough to the sound of the shuffle of hooves above them.

The look of wonder in the child’s eyes was worth it. She hopped, exclaiming ‘oh!’ a few times, and raced into another room before running back in with a couple of carrots and a few cookies. “For the reindeer! And for you!”

Patton shook his head, “Oh, oh, I don’t- I don’t need anything, kiddo, I’ve got all I need-”

Jemima frowned, “But-” She raised her collection towards him, practically pouting.

Patton sighed, shoulders falling, “Ok, ok. Just one cookie though, ok?”

“Are you suuure?”

Patton bobbed a little before shaking his head, “I am feeling a little dangerous-” She tilted her head and Patton extended a hand, “Alright, I’ll take a second cookie.”

The girl dumped the carrots into his hands and then topped the pile with two cookies. Patton laughed. “Thank you very much, little miss.”

In a gentle motion, he sent the collection back home- hopefully Logan or Roman could figure out a way to use the carrots-, after snatching one of the cookies from the pile.

He glanced down at the girl’s letter as she looked at him with wonder in her eyes. He glanced back up, “Now, um, I don’t have what you asked for, and I apologize for that, but, is there something else you’d really like?”

Jemima shook her head. She looked down at her feet before gasping, “Wait, can you make it snow?”

Patton startled, blinking. “Can I- what?”

“I wanna be able to play in the snow! That way it can be a ‘White Christmas’! I haven’t had one before! Can you make it snow?”

Patton glanced out the window. He could change up the usual weather plan, just this once... Patton smiled, “I can most certainly do that, kiddo. Anything else, at all?”

She shook her head.

Patton nodded, “Alrighty then, one White Christmas for one Miss Jemima.” He opened his palm a sparkle of frost coating the glove as he summoned a small snowflake. Jemima clasped her hands around the flake, melting on her palm as she opened her hand to look. Patton giggled.

“Look outside.” Patton directed.

Jemima raced to the window, as she looked out to the sky, the gentle flutter of snow curling through the sky.

He took a bite of his gifted (now incidentally frozen) cookie as he stood up, watching the girl’s amazement. He glanced down at his feet, and nodded to himself, and stepped backwards into the doorway back home.

“Thank you S-” Jemima turned, looking up to find her Santa Claus missing. Jemima glanced down at the floor, a light layer of slowly melting frost that curled from around a pair of boot-prints. The only proof he’d been there at all.

Roman probably shouldn’t be in Patton’s Room. Snowdrops seemed to follow him as he walked through the snowy room, and he half wondered if his presence would somehow hurt Patton.

Roman rubbed his arms. He just needed to find something... He’d be in and out and- Ok. He just... missed Patton. He can admit that. The idea was simple. Patton kept so many things, especially from the humans he’d befriend, and it helped him when he could no longer see them so, maybe something of Patton’s would help him.

That said, he was usually only in Patton’s room with Patton. It felt a little weird to be here alone. He eventually found the main portion of his room, Patton’s bed was blanketed (ha, pun.) with a layer of snow, untouched. Roman glanced down to the foot of the bed to see a small wooden chest. He’d seen Patton take out extra blankets from that before. Patton wouldn’t mind if he borrowed a blanket. He’d bring it back later.... after his own room stopped being cold. How did Patton ever sleep in this cold of a room?

Roman brushed the layer of snow off the chest, and let out a soft laugh as he discovered it looked a bit like a Christmas present. Roman undid the latch and lifted the lid, glancing over the contents.

Roman tugged out the largest of the blankets inside, pressing the soft fabric against his face. The blanket smelled almost overwhelmingly of pine and spruce, likely from being in the wooden chest so long, coco, and a faint hint of some spice- maybe cinnamon? Whatever it was, it was familiar. And vaguely comforting. Roman let out a soft breath and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. Yes, Patton wouldn’t mind if he took it for now. He’d give it back when Patton came home. (Because Patton would come home. He just would....right?)

Roman moved to put the chest’s lid back, but- Was that the old cloak Patton wore during the 4th Century?

Roman dusted off the garment, most of the color seemed to have faded, having once been a pretty red. Patton always looked pretty good in red, in his opinion. (Although, he also just liked that color a lot, so maybe he was biased.) It was so much smaller than he remembered. Heavens, how old were they all during the 4th Century? Patton had to be maybe 10 in human terms? He ran his fingers over the cloak and glanced at what it had rested above-

“Oh.” Roman rested the old cloak atop one of the other blankets in the chest, looking over one of many letters, neatly folded. He pulled out one of them.

“Dear Santa Claws,

How are you? I hope you’re good!! I didn’t get to say thank you for the snow last year! Me and my friends made bunches of snowmen, and Papa took me out to go sledding! If you can, I think it’d be really nice to see more snow this year too. One of my friends said they don’t get Santa, they have a bunch of candles though. Do you do something else for them? Oh, and, Mama said that I probably didn’t get what I wanted last year because you didn’t know what it was! Sorry! This year I think just a fluffy puppy stuffy would be good!! With the spots! And if you can’t get one, I don’t mind! I think more snow would be just great. Or... maybe a bell, if you have extra? They were really pretty. Thank you! I’m gonna set out more cookies and food for the reindeer this year, I hope that’s ok. Oh! And what’s their names?! Give them hugs for me!

Thank you!

Jemima”

The letter was signed with a little heart at the end of the child’s name. Roman glanced over the other letters and laughed, “Oh, of course you’re Santa.”

Roman frowned, folding the letter and replacing it. He covered them again with the cloak and he shuffled through the rest of the chest. He eventually uncovered a red outfit, more fit to an older Patton.

Roman tugged on the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He leaned his cheek against the blanket, “When did you stop being Santa, too?” Roman whispered.

Roman glanced over his shoulder towards the door from Patton’s Room. He let out a huff, “Dear Christmas Roses... Well... I do look good in red.”

#This is totally unedited but IDC #Season!Sides #Winter!Patton #Spring!Roman #Roman Sanders #Patton Sanders #fanfic #writing #Seasonal Shifts au

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otvlanga · 3 years

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Teldryn Sero Headcanons 4**

Here I am, creating a whole elaborate sex life for a fictional man again 😌. You may not agree, but this is what it looks like to be at the peak of your life.

I know I said I’d do Miraak before these but I just like Telly too much to wait. Miraak coming soon though. (hehe)

I’ve given up all motivation to make these sound pretty, they’re unedited and probably sound all over the place but idc. Him sexy anyway. You know what’s below the cut, proceed at ur own risk

I think he’s definitely one of those people that believes there’s a big difference between having sex and ‘making love.’ On days where him and his partner get to indulge in slow, gentle and passionate sex, his entire vibe does a 180. While always appreciative of his partner and their body, during these moments are when he loves to express it the most. Slow, deliberate kisses down every inch of their skin he can reach -- and on every mark, scar or flaw he knows they don’t appreciate as much as he does. He loves to take his time when he has it to spare, and really get them eager while he waits patiently. He teases in a way that makes his partners feel both beautiful and desperate, making them want him while reminding them how much that desire is felt in return. Having him take such a slow and deliberate pace is his way of expressing to his partner what he may not be able to say so articulately with words -- that he loves them and that he’s there for the good and the ‘“bad”’.

You better believe he absolutely loves saying dirty praises into his partner’s ear during foreplay. Likes telling them exactly how good they’re doing and how amazing they’re making him feel. Tells them how great they look sucking his dick, how much he loves the shape of their body and such. His delivery always sounds a bit sarcastic, but it doesn’t mean he’s being any less genuine. ‘If I had known you’d be so good at this, I probably would’ve given you a discount when you hired me.’ Little remarks like that. His partners complimenting and praising him in return will surprisingly make him incredibly bashful, and he’ll likely finish much earlier than he would’ve liked. It may pose a bit of a problem for partners who are very eager in giving praise, but he always makes up for it in other ways. He’ll get a teeny bit frustrated at his partner for messing him up, but it’s never genuine displeasure, and he expresses his appreciation tenfold in return. This mer is always incredibly grateful for some tender care, okay? It’s not often that he gets treated with such gentleness, physically or emotionally. He’s all snark and blades and fire on the outside, but he’s a family-man at heart. He loves his work and staying on the move, but he does have desires to settle down one day, and holds the people he cares for incredibly close and dear to his heart. He may not be the most verbally receptive of compliments, but his partner will certainly know he’s heard them. Compliments relating directly to him get him going much more than compliments about what he’s doing. Telling him he’s going a good job down there doesn’t do much because he knows it and can tell in other ways. But having his partner call him mushy things like beautiful or amazing will make him lose his breath for a moment, and get him blushing like a dork (much to his dismay).

He enjoys risky quickies from time to time, and finds the sight of his partner frantically trying to make themselves look decent afterwards absolutely hilarious. He’s a little bastard, and it’s quite easy to get him all hot and bothered even in less than appropriate places, so it’s not uncommon for him to sneakily pull his partner into some secluded corner to bang one out. “Right now? In a draugr crypt? Eh, why not.” *unzipping sounds* Especially likes to do it right before him and his partner are due to meet with Jarls or other important people, because their ignorance and obliviousness to what him and his partner were just doing in the extravagantly empty library is entertaining to him. Jarl Balgruuf could be drawling on about a bounty or something and Teldryn’s inner monologue is just ‘this moron has no idea I just took my spouse to the cloud district right in his palace lol’

I see him as someone who’s definitely a bit more vocal than most guys. He’s not much for loud or obscene dirty talk outside of foreplay, but he makes a lot of sounds -- especially if his partner decides to kiss or stroke along the edges of his ears. Likewise he certainly doesn’t mind when his partners crank the volume up a bit, but any sort of excessive yelling or moaning will turn him off. Elves have quite sensitive ears, and he’s more of a visual and touch-based person when it comes to sensory information anyway. He’s much more content with seeing and feeling what effects he has on his partners rather than hearing them. Feeling and seeing his partners quiver above or beneath them, clenching around his cock, grabbing at him and digging their nails into his skin or hair, while he watches them throw their head back -- those are all the best indicators to him that they’re thoroughly enjoying what he’s doing.

If his partner is someone who has a period, he has no problem with having sex during those days. In fact, he encourages the idea himself. He’s certainly no stranger to blood, and frankly, he doesn’t care that it may be a bit gross and messy. He’s a grown mer, he’s seen quite a few jarring horrors during his life and a bloody towel on the bed certainly isn’t anywhere close to being one. He’s aware that orgasms can help ebb away cramps as well, and would be quite eager to take up the chance to help his partner feel good and relieve their pain. He’s also extra thorough with aftercare afterwards, insistent on helping them get cleaned up and changed -- even helping them bathe if they’d like. If his partner isn’t up sex during their period, he won’t pressure them -- but he’s very clear in expressing the fact that if they change their mind, he’s totally down.

Though he’s willing to try a lot of things at least once, there are certain things he draws the line at. He doesn’t enjoy slapping or hitting his partners much, and especially doesn’t like insulting or degrading them. No amount of begging and insisting will get him to call them offensive names or hurt their feelings, even if they’re into it. Hitting or insulting them on purpose makes him feel shitty regardless of how much they enjoy it. He’ll be alright with using words like ‘slut’ or ‘whore’ if they want it, but refuses to use anything more offensive than that. He doesn’t like smacking his partners in the face, and doesn’t like them doing it to him either. He has a high amount of respect for his partners, and isn’t comfortable harming them with his hands-- he will spank them if they ask, but that’s it. He doesn’t mind biting them or pulling their hair either, or having them do it to him, since it's not as extreme and he does enjoy being a bit intense. He also isn’t entirely opposed to using knives or blades in the bedroom since they’re his specialty, and he trusts himself not to accidentally sever an artery. He might be able to enjoy feeling his partner tense and shudder underneath him, as she runs a faint line up their back with the tip of a dagger -- or cutting their undergarments off them if permitted.

He probably doesn’t fall asleep right after, but he’s also not really one for pillow talk, either. He’ll pack a pipe with tobacco and smokes a bit, and maybe has a cup of Sujamma if there’s any on hand, and he’s more than willing to share with his partner if they’d like. He has an odd habit of impulsively trying to feed his partners after he fucks them, even though he doesn’t really enjoy cooking. He’ll get up to go wash off, and then come back twenty minutes later with a whole platter of food he got at the inn/tavern, or threw together with what they had packed. Probably pulls the old 'you need to keep yourself nourished after vigorous work blah blah blah' line because he’s secretly riddled with some sort of deeply buried maternal instincts that make him insist they stay healthy and nourished at all times.

#teldryn sero #headcanons #skyrim #tes #tesv #tesblr #dragonborn #dunmer #solstheim #the elder scrolls #hee hoo I love him

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barrysjumpsuit · 4 years

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the killing in kildare - an outer banks/criminal minds crossover (jj pov)

this came to be thanks to a post by @pixelated-pogues and @poguesoftheobx and tbh my main motivation for this was jj being an asshole to feds

word count: 3k

warnings: mentions of (canon) abuse, some abuse/fighting, mentions of canon murder, this is purely unedited so prob typos and bad grammar idc

summary: following the murder of sherriff peterkin, our favorite BAU team comes in to assist the kildare county police department with their case

a/n: i hate this and rewrote it twice, but here ya go!!! couldn’t make it a true criminal minds bau type case due to the canon but i did my best. also there’s mayward if u squint

---

“We haven’t had a homicide here in ten years,” Deputy Shoupe was explaining as he led the BAU team through the police station. “All sorts of weird shit going down lately. We’re at our wits end.”

“And all this happened after Routledge’s disappearance?” Agent Hotchner asked, weaving his way through desks as Shoupe unlocked the conference room door.

“Yes sir, his kid - also John Routledge, we call him John B - thought he’s out there, but we’ve officially deemed him dead after he didn’t show up after a couple months, now the kid says a local killed him. Have a seat.”

Shoupe gestured to the chairs surrounding the table, and the team sat down, Hotchner and Rossi near the head of the table. They all listened while Shoupe explained what went down over the course of the past year - Big John’s disappearance, which turned out to be linked to his hunt for the gold of the Royal Merchant. Word had it that a man named Ward Cameron, the elite of the island, was responsible, or at least involved. “That statement came from Routledge’s kid, so I’m not sure how true it is,” Shoupe explained.

Turns out, Shoupe believed it was the younger Routledge who murdered Sheriff Peterkin. A local reported him running around, covered in blood. He had become involved in the treasure hunt with his friends, wreaking havoc around the island in the process. There were strange men who reportedly chased the kids, who later turned up dead in someone’s nets, sporting wounds from a gaff hook.

“And now Pete…” Shoupe continued, trailing off. “That kid’s on the loose. We haven’t seen or heard anything about him in a few days. We think he got away, but I still have officers out keeping an eye open.”

It wasn’t the type of case the BAU would normally take on, but it was interesting. A hunt for treasure, mysterious men and local residents turning up dead, and the murder of the Sheriff.

There were a few questions and a brief silence as the team looked over the photos and files they had been given. Morgan finally spoke up, his voice filled with determination. “We’ll find whoever did this.”

JJ laid on the dock, swinging his feet which dangled off the edge. The tips of his boots barely skimmed the water. In one hand, he pinched a joint between two fingers. His eyes were closed, and occasionally he sucked on the joint, enjoying the calmness that overwhelmed his system, easing the anxiety that had been overwhelming ever since he saw John B disappear the night before.

They had finally eased off the search once there was word of his escape. He was out of Kildare County, out of jurisdiction.

With no more cops hanging around, JJ could finally return to the Chateau. He knew he couldn’t go home - his dad had probably realized that JJ had stolen the keys to the Phantom by now, and JJ would be a goner. Being at the Chateau was familiar and comfortable.

Both Kiara and Pope had returned home to be with their families. Ever since two nights before, JJ had been at the Chateau, Kiara having dropped off food from The Wreck to last him a few days.

JJ was too caught up in his thoughts to hear the footsteps making their way down the dock until someone spoke. “JJ Maybank?”

He knew the voice of a cop when he heard it; JJ bolted upright, immediately jumping into the water, his joint long forgotten as he plunged under the water and started swimming.

Arms suddenly wrestled him. “We just want to talk, kid,” someone said, and JJ threw an elbow their way. Whoever had jumped in and grabbed him was too big, and wrestled him back to the dock. “Grab him, Spence.”

Hands pulled JJ back onto the dock. “You’re not in any trouble, JJ.”

JJ struggled in his hold, but more hands were on him, and he knew he couldn’t get away.

“Alright, you got me, congratulations,” he said, throwing his hands up. “John B didn’t kill Peterkin, he didn’t kill anybody.”

“Hold up, kid,” the first man said. JJ saw that they weren’t dressed like normal cops, and the man soon confirmed his suspicions. “My name is Derek Morgan, this is Spencer Reid, we’re with the FBI. We just have a few questions.”

“Ask away,” JJ said, exasperated. He was cornered on the end of the dock by the two agents.

“We’d like you to come with us,” Agent Reid explained. “To take an official statement. You won’t get in any trouble and you’ll be able to leave whenever you want.”

“If your friend is innocent, we want to help him, all right? That’s what we’re here for.”

Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was the fact that John B was gone and safe. Whatever the case, JJ nodded, allowing the agents to walk him to their SUV to take him back to the police station. He was more than aware of all the looks everyone gave him. JJ greeted them, in typical JJ fashion, and he was brought into an office.

A blonde woman was sitting at the conference table, papers and files spread out before her while she spoke on the phone. JJ recognized the photos of the two square groupers that were killed, hauled up in nets by some fishermen. His stomach turned at the memory of them breaking into John B’s house.

The agent set the phone down onto the table before sticking out her hand. “My name’s Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ. You’re a friend of John B’s?”

JJ laughed. “JJ, that’s a good name, I like it.” He smiled with satisfaction as Jennifer’s face flushed red. “Look at that, we even look alike, we’re both blond bombshells.”

“This is JJ Maybank,” Agent Morgan interjected, a smile tugging on his lips, too.

“Well, all right, JJ. Can you tell us what happened? From the beginning? We found that the officers here tended to have a… biased report, so sorry about that.” Her eyes shifted slowly towards Deputy Shoupe.

“Nah, it’s all good. I have a bit of a reputation here, so that doesn’t surprise me.” JJ couldn’t help but throw a wink towards Shoupe. “Ol’ Shoupe and I here know each other pretty well.”

There was a pang of satisfaction inside JJ as Shoupe sighed. “Just shut up and talk, Maybank.”

“Aight. So, JB’s dad was looking for this gold his whole life, ya know? He went missing at sea about a year ago. Then this month, after Agatha, my friends and I were out fishing and we found a sunk boat. It belonged to Scooter Grubbs, and we were like ‘oh, how did he get his grubby little hands on it?’” he paused, clearly proud of the joke he made. “Anyway. Scooter turned up dead and we found a compass in the boat. It was JB’s dad’s. So we were like ‘holy shit, it’s a ghost compass’. But after we found that compass we were chased by some guys, total square groupers - they tried to shoot us! Then they next day we went to ask Scooter’s wife about it but found the guys there, then they came to JB’s house looking for him and the compass. Then we found a map and tape recorder to John B from his dad in this creepy ass tomb the compass told us to go to, and we knew something was up.”

JJ paused for dramatic effect. Everyone, even Shoupe, was watching and listening intently, Jennifer scribbling down notes as a tape recorder played on the table. Agent Morgan was visibly amused by JJ’s storytelling.

He continued with the story. “So we found the shipwreck, right? But there wasn’t anything on it. So we were like damn, someone beat us to it. But then John B started mackin’ Sarah Cameron-”

Agent Reid made a confused face at his slang.

“Mackin’. You know, making out, dating, Sarah Cameron. Turns out, there was a letter left by Denmark Tanney. He was the sole survivor and hid all the gold at the Crain house. But this is where it gets good,” JJ said, leaning forward, as if the story wasn’t thrilling enough already. “Ward Cameron must have known that John B was looking for the gold. He had him move into his house and must have overheard him talking to Sarah about the gold. The gold was gone. Ward loaded it up in his plane. While this was happening, John B went to Lana, Scooter’s wife, and she told him everything. About how Big John and Ward were looking for the gold, and they were about to find the merchant, then Ward shoved John and split his head open and dumped him over the side of the boat.”

“We have agents talking to Lana Grubbs right now,” Jennifer said, and JJ nodded vigorously.

“Good. Oh yeah, JB said Ward took him fishing and tried to kill him with a gaff hook. That ring any bells?” JJ looked from Morgan to Reid, and then to Jennifer, who just nodded. “So turns out Scooter found his body and got the compass. Then he was coming back when Aggie hit. After JB found out, he was pissed, man, and we went to the runway to stop Ward from stealing the gold. He was taking it and Sarah to the Bahamas. JB went out to try to stop him. He said Peterkin showed up to arrest Ward, but then Ward’s kid Rafe - he’s a crazy motherfucker - shot Peterkin, John B ran because Rafe was gonna shoot him too, then Ward called our friend Shoupe and said John B shot her and denied everything.”

“Did you witness anything at the airport?” Morgan asked, walking to sit down beside JJ.

JJ shifted uncomfortably, filling with guilt. “No, we ran once Peterkin showed up. I’m on probation. I didn’t need to get caught out there. As far as I know, the only people who were there were Peterkin, Ward, Rafe, John B, and-”

He stopped speaking as Jennifer’s attention was immediately diverted, her eyes locked on something outside the window. JJ’s head whipped around, seeing the one person he never wanted to see ever again. All of his cockiness and charm was gone the second he laid eyes on his father.

“Reid, lock the door,” Jennifer said quietly as Shoupe and Morgan slipped out of the office, leaving the three of them. From outside, JJ could hear yelling, the voices of his father and Shoupe unmistakable.

“Don’t let him anywhere near me,” JJ said suddenly, almost pleadingly.

“Who is that?” Agent Reid asked, and Jennifer nodded as if acknowledging that she was thinking the same thing.

JJ muttered, “My dad,” wheeling his chair out of view from the window.

“We won’t let him near you, okay?” he heard the woman say, and JJ just nodded. “I’m going to call the rest of my team to see how it’s going, you can stay in here. It’s safe here. We’ll be back soon with some more questions for you.”

JJ nodded again, opening his eyes and watching the two agents leave the room, closing and locking the door behind them.

He sat alone for a while before pulling out his phone. He noticed he had several missed calls and texts from Pope and Kiara; he called Pope back, greeted by the frantic sound of his voice. “Dude, where the hell are you!”

“Bro, the FBI is here looking for whoever killed Peterkin,” JJ said, not answering his question.

“You’re talking to them?” Pope asked in a worried but hushed tone. “JJ, you’re actually talking to feds?”

“Hey, they wanna help John B, man. Help him and put away the Camerons.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“I told them everything, Pope. They’re talking to Miss Lana too. Who knows, if you or Kie back me up-”

“JJ!” Pope was yelling now. “JJ, do you know how many laws we’ve broken? No, JJ.”

JJ opened his mouth to say something, but quickly hung up the phone as the door opened and a two stoic, official looking men walked in.

“I’m Agent Hotchner, this is Agent Rossi,” the taller one stated. His tone was flat and hard, and JJ instantly didn’t like him.

“Are you here to take my story again? The recorder’s right there bro, I don’t even think she turned it off.” He pointed to the tape recorder, which was still running.

“No, we’re here to ask if you would happen to know where Rafe Cameron could be hiding.”

“His house? It’s really big, you might want to check everywhere.”

“We did a full sweep of the place,” Agent Hotchner said in the same disinterested tone. “Any friend’s place? Anything like that?”

JJ sighed. “He’s this guy’s bitch. Some basehead named Barry. If my dad’s out there, ask him about where to find him, he buys coke off him. Rafe does, too. The two of them jumped me a few days ago.”

“Do you know where he lives?” the other agent asked, his voice slightly softer. “His father isn’t speaking, we’ve arrested him but can’t find his son.”

“Where’s Ward? I’d like to talk to him.”

“I’m afraid we can’t let you do that, son.” Agent Rossi pulled out the chair next to JJ and sat down. “Where does this Barry guy live?”

JJ sighed. “Shitty little trailer on the west side of Sunshine street. Ironic, huh? Dude’s full of sunshine.” He paused as Hotch watched him through narrowed eyes. “Second place south of the Dollar General, you can’t miss it, it’s a shithole.”

“Thanks, JJ,” Agent Hotcher said, and the two men left, closing and locking the door behind them again.

Sighing, he kicked his feet up onto the chair that Agent Rossi had vacated, rubbing at his temple. He had barely eaten since John B left, and barely slept. His high had worn off, leaving him tired and with a subtle yet persistent headache.

“I want this fuckin’ thing to be over,” he muttered to himself.

A voice made him open his eyes and walk over to the window. Ward Cameron was walking through the main space of the station, his large strides quickly covering ground, followed by two officers. He was yelling at Jennifer, the agent hardly flinching as he berated her. The glass muffled his voice, but JJ could tell he was pulling either the wealth card or the my-daughter-ran-away-from-home card on her.

“Hey Ward!” JJ yelled, pounding his palm against the glass. “Ward!”

The man’s head eventually turned to see JJ, and seconds later, he was at the pane of glass, yelling at him.

“You’re a fucking murderer, Ward!” JJ yelled, ignoring the words Ward was throwing at him. Your friend could have killed my daughter. You ruined her life. You ruined my life. You’re a liar. JJ countered with words of his own. “You killed Big John! You killed those men! You tried to kill my best friend! Your son killed Peterkin! You don’t care about your family, Ward!”

The last sentence made him snap. Jennifer and two officers were trying to restrain Ward, but he shoved them off, picking up and chair and throwing it at the window.

Luckily, the window was made for scenarios like this. Ward couldn’t touch JJ, and both of them knew it. They kept yelling until they finally cuffed Ward, leading him out of view, JJ’s face still pressed against the window, his body shaking with rage.

He flinched as the door opened, and Agent Reid came in, standing in the doorway sheepishly.

“What do you want?” JJ muttered, plopping back down in the chair he had been sitting in before.

The agent shrugged. “Just thought you might want to talk, is all. Nothing you’ll say leaves this room.”

JJ regarded him through squinted eyes, his arms crossed across his chest. “Why do you think I need a therapy session?”

Reid shrugged again. “Thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask. You’ve been through a lot recently. I can tell there’s more going on than what you told us.”

He sighed. “Everything just went to shit so quick. My best friend was framed for murder, he left, and now my dad wants to kill me the first chance he gets. And once they get the Camerons I’ll be expected to resume life as normal.” He threw up his hands for effect. “Life was never normal, life was never good. It’s fucked, man.”

JJ sat with Reid for another hour or two. The small talk had eventually drifted into an awkward silence, broken by more yelling.

“I didn’t do it!” JJ heard from outside the office. He could recognize Rafe’s voice anywhere, and it filled him with rage.

Reid had forgotten to lock the door. In one fluid motion, JJ was on his feet, throwing the door open, running and tackling Rafe, knocking him from the agent’s grasps. Grabbing his shoulders and throwing him against the ground, JJ collapsed to his knees, one on either side of Rafe.

He was helpless with his hands cuffed, and Agent Morgan pulled JJ off Rafe, restraining him. “Easy, big guy,” Morgan said cooly. “We’ve made the arrests, JJ, your friend’s name is cleared. You can get out of here.”

“What?” JJ asked stupidly, looking to a woman he had not yet met. She had long, straight black hair.

“You’re free to leave. Your story matches up with what Lana Grubbs told us, and we were able to recover a gun from the Cameron residence that matched the type used in the murder of Sheriff Peterkin.”

At that, she followed the others, leaving JJ standing in the middle of the police station. He could hear muffled shouts of Rafe, which dissipated after a door slammed.

It was over. JJ almost didn’t know what to do, so he just left.

A body collided with his, then another. He struggled at first, but recognized the arms wrapped around him, and melted into Pope and Kiara’s embraces.

“They made the arrests,” JJ found himself saying. “JB’s gonna be okay.”

tagging @jellyfishbeansontoast @pixelated-pogues @kookkyra @poguesoftheobx @shawnssongs @stargazingstarkey @letsgofullkook @jjmaybcnks @ims0golden @jjsmentalpolaroids @queenk00k @sortagaysortahigh @thegreatestofheck

#outer banks #criminal minds #jj maybank #marie writes

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jksangelic · 5 years

Text

heaven’s winter (m)

RATING: M

GENRE: fantasy, fluff, smut, a hint of a soulmate au, light angst

PAIRING: village daughter!reader x seraph!yoongi (alternatively, an “angel”)

WARNINGS/TAGS: lots of overthinking/past angst regarding both reader and yoongi separately (yoongi especially), tae is involved as an important plot side character but he’s barely in there i’m sorry, surprise aggression from yoongi because u get in his personal space, slow burn smut but the smut is nice and flavorful, explicit sexual content, body worship, oral sex (female receiving), virgin!reader, clumsy cute smut uwu, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), several positions, unintentional temperature play?, lots of love and respect up in this house and lots of other things i probably forgot.

also i wrote a lot for the intro you can skim idc lmao.

SUMMARY: your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

WORD COUNT: 18,600

NOTE: welcome to my slice of the Fantastical Stories for Curious Souls Collaboration!

it’s always really an honor to be able to work with other writers and i’m really grateful that they allowed my butting-in )))): thank you all!!! make sure to check out everyone’s stories in the link above and let us know what you think!

(uhhh i just..... i spent way too much time on research and the politics behind this fic for it to still be aLL oVer tHe plaCe but please cut me some slack. might i throw in that this has no religious/cultural affiliation and instead has more of a fantastical theme to it that is entirely fictional. especially for the concept of the Offering and how i loosely throw around the word “angel” and “heaven” and etc.)

((might i add that i recently discovered that i am *terrible* at describing geography and am totally basing it off of video-game visuals........ cough cough zeldabreathofthewild))

(((this last one’s kinda important!!!!: yoongi is described to be larger than you bc he’s this magical bird being. i always try to keep reader insert broad in description but if you’re taller than irl yoongi boongi, pssst, you’re not in this universe sorry but i make the rules)))

((((this is currently unedited. @14statelier get to work.))))

Part One

The snow falls slow and thick. The children catching it on their tongues and compacting it to shoot at each other, screaming and wailing all the same as it continues to pile. It fell particularly early this time around, normally nothing more than cold bitter to the skin and clouds stirring prediction of the oncoming winter. You were always a heavy sleeper despite the beauty of first frost, long past your days of childish amazement through fogged windows and warm fires but you watched the icy cotton substance pile since dawn this morning. Not even drowsiness will overrun your excitement for the day ahead.

“You light three incense and make sure they burn all the way through before you turn around,” Taehee states.

“Find some stones on your way. Use them to hold the tapestry down as you set up. It looks especially windy today,” Mina adds.

Yoona finishes tucking your hair back rather tightly, “You should stop by Jin’s and pick up some extra bread. You know he’ll give you some of his fresh batch if you asked for it.”

You suppose, not even the nagging of your aunts.

You chew on your fingers, a nervous habit. Taehee pulls your slobbered index from your lips with a wrinkled forehead, “You better remember this, dear. You only have to do it once but if you do it right, it’ll be worth much more.”

You recite drearily, “Follow the path, set up the altar, say our prayers, return home.”

“Once the incense is out, Y/N. You mustn’t forget.”

“And you cannot explore the manor. Don’t walk around. Don’t look through the windows—”

“It’s a manor? How big do you suppose?” you ask with newfound interest to your words.

“That doesn’t matter, girl. You don’t wander. You don’t explore. You do what is told of you and nothing more. What matters is that you don’t spot a seraph, and that the seraphs don’t spot you.”

You never understood that rule. If the seraph tribe was so kind as to help your country win a rather one-sided war, then why the invisible boundary? To be in alliance and never interact was an odd sense of unity to you, if any. “Have you ever seen a seraph? Is it true they have two sets of wings?” You’d always been curious to the subject, a fairytale-like existence just waiting below the peak.

“The elders claim they do. A large and small set. Some say it’s necessary for having human proportions. You know, they say it’s bad luck to stare at a seraph’s wings. ” Mina says in awe in correspondence to the way she suffocates you with your robe’s sash.

You swat her away, forcing down a smile, “I don’t believe that, you haven’t even seen one! How do you even know they exist!”

“Hush! You’ll get into some real trouble if an elder catches you saying that. They exist. And they live up the mountain. And you will do the Offering with utmost delicacy and respect. Besides, you’re the only one coming-of-age this year! A girl to do it by herself is surely something the leaders will appraise of you.” You avoid their scrutinous, expectant gazes.

You could say you’ve been cursed at birth. Weak in basic skills in which an adult, regardless of age, is identified by. You lacked time management and a sense of direction, you harbored a bad habit of looking down when you spoke, you couldn’t even wash the dishes without chipping a glass. Your legs worked against you at random times, quite literally tripping you up and deeming you as a clumsy, pitiful thing. As you grew older, the only skills you were able to contribute were to the fields, where things were organic and didn’t require fragility.

“I am not as useless as you think of me,” the words come out unprompted but true and exposed.

The women gawk and babble like hens in a flurry of angered denial or soft apologies but you no longer have time to discuss unimportant matters.

In the midst, rough, giant hands encase your face. You don’t realize you’re looking to the floor until Taehyung props your chin upwards, met with smiling eyes and an ear-to-ear grin. His name rolls off your tongue in surprise.

“Hey, don’t start moping before you even start. It really isn’t a big deal. You hike all the way up to the riverbank more than the others and that’s a long way. This is no different. And think, when you come home everyone will come to realize how much they’ve missed you! Me included.”

“It’s not that I’m…” You start haphazardly. Well, it’s not that you’re reluctant to do the Offering. To adventure otherwise prohibited land and by yourself, to prove that you can handle life just fine and don’t need to be seared by the judgement of deploring eyes. Some time to enjoy solitary peace. It wasn’t even a whole day, dammit, but you’ll take what you can get. You choose to lie, “I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ll make sure to pace myself. Besides, I’d run myself short if I finished in half-a-day like you.”

Tae puffs, a little proud of himself, “What can I say… I’d like for the little ones to look up to me.” You roll your eyes, scanning your bed for your scarf. Taehyung eyes the cloth as you wrap it around, a rare moment of quiet. He stares, entranced, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so focused. As you think about inquiring his statue-like manner, you notice that more of the silence is due to the disappearance of the squawking hens. Those sly, evil matchmakers.

You suddenly pull him along and towards the exit, “You can’t be in here. You’ll get us in trouble.”

He blinks dumbly and slumps against your ministrations. “Your aunts seemed to be fine with it. And it’s not like I haven’t snuck in your window a few… several times.”

Your expressed sheepishness is his favorite source of entertainment, “Goodness, as kids! You make it sound so rebellious.” He winks as if you share a grand secret, all to his imagination of course.

Taehyung, on the other hand, was the village’s be-all and end-all. Born to work and carry everyone else on his back. He stands tall with his shoulders wide and prominent, chestnut waves that reached his cheekbones now. Shirt tight around his torso in ways that could excite anyone that risked a glimpse. You can’t help but find it amazing how much of a crybaby he was when you were young and how sturdy and dependable he is now. He was humorously your polar opposite.

You try to shoo him once more, “Anyways. I’m getting ready and you can’t see me. Go wait with everyone else!” His pout is jarring paired with his hard, strong build. Like a teddy bear with abs and palm blisters from years of physical labor.

His body moves on his own at some point, reluctantly reaching for your door handle, “No parting kiss upon my cheek, fair lady?”

It’s obvious he’s being more daring these days. With frequent visits and gifts on your doorstep, and now requested kisses. The whole town knew you were likely to marry him, a relief for most. But on your hand, you’ve just known him for so long. Practically since you were born. You’ve already shared kisses, you’ve already had those butterflies in your stomach; but the kisses were stolen in secret and the butterflies were stagnant. And although it was never a consistent nor official courting, you felt as though Taehyung was already a route taken. You know better to never admit that into the air, though. Not when everyone expected your cooperation with marriage at the least. To care for someone so special, and to bear his children plump and healthy.

What a static life to live, you try not to think. You instead try to blame such thinking on your inferiority complex, to at least ease some of that horrible guilt in your stomach. You should be grateful for your life. Talentless yet adored. A village princess that was easy on the eyes and sought after by those looking for that beauty and its accompanied dowry.

A proposal was near, that much you could tell with his efforts. In his perspective, the sooner the better lest he want someone else to steal you from him. Contradictory to your own reasoning, the only relief you find is that it is him, your dearest friend. Perhaps the only one to disregard your shortcomings and want to fill your empty spaces as much as he can. He cared about you and that could be enough. So you try to convince yourself of that.

You kiss his cheek softly and without hesitation. Not so much as a blush. He suspects nothing less than mutual adoration and takes his leave like you request, leaving you alone in silence for a relieving twenty seconds. Then the hens come back inside and squabble about who will be able to sew together your future gown.

Part Two

It starts under the old pine tree on the far side of the village. A crowd gathers as you wait under the swaying branches, mutters and looks of excitement apparent. A cleric waits beside you with three elder women who prepare your things: a woven satchel loaded with the items that you are to lay out, things like dried flowers, fruits, fine wines, tapestries, collected crystals, baked goods and the incense. A replica display of what little the humans had presented at the foot of the seraphs. Untouchable beings with class and power much above your own. Kindness as well, so it seems; to be provided with just this and offer unparalleled assistance to a hopeless cause in the old wars. You wondered if they still watched from afar, curious to the well-being of their mortal neighbors.

"Dear, keep your mind with us. You'll be off shortly," one of the grandmas whisper, placing a carved selenite athame into a leather holster and slipping it into the confines of your robe, "For protection." You smile and thank her kindly, tuning back into the ceremony and waiting for the second elder. They continue to adorn you in charms and traveling goodies, eventually piling on unnecessary weight that will, for sure, slow you down in the process. The trek was basically a day’s trip. If you moved efficiently, you should be home no later than when the sun begins to set, in time for supper even. As much as you’d like to stay out longer, you dare not risk a night in the mountains.

“—this year’s representative will be just as prosperous. May she bring good fortune and health onto our town just as the many before her has done so,” the old cleric roars into the audience, just about finishing his speech as you start to listen. You hope he didn’t say anything too significant. Can’t possibly hang on to every dry word when you were so close to tasting temporary freedom.

You make your way into the parted sea of people, some who grip your hand as you walk by to invoke strength as you move along. A few grumble good luck’s and come back safe’s. Then an angry baker charging through helpless bodies.

“Take this, you stupid girl. You were supposed to stop by the bakery this morning,” Seokjin whines, thrusting what seems to be a warm pastry wrapped with cheesecloth into your hands.

“Thank—Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bug…”

Jungkook pops in from nowhere, hitting your shoulder a little too playfully, “Chin up, love. Don’t be back too soon.” You nod shyly as he distances behind. Jungkook always had a strong nose for your facades but he also always kept your secrets. Clutching your things tightly, you watch your boots as they pick up speed through the mess of attention.

“Good luck!”

“Watch your surroundings, little one.”

“Come home and don’t wander off!”

You leave northbound until you no longer hear their cheers. Until the snow no longer has indented prints and you think you’re alone and off to the races. A sudden tension snaps when you release your sore cheeks from an artificial smile, not even aware you were sporting one in the first place. There was always a heavy pressure when you presented yourself to the public, and while you were no damn princess, everyone ensured that you at least feel the looming responsibility of one. Curse your family’s political ties and all that, otherwise you wouldn’t give a damn if you seemed like an old witch spotted once in a blue moon.

When you reach the border gate is when you see Taehyung for the last time today. It comes as a surprise to see him waiting for you like a loyal dog, dark hair sprinkled with snowflakes, red cheeks a striking contrast against the bright setting. If you were more grateful, you’d think he looks particularly good today. If anything, it strikes you more that you failed to see his face at the send-off.

“Hey. I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone else… and today of all days but if I don’t right now, I don’t think I ever will,” he jumbles. In his hands hold a scarlet scarf, the same one you had seen as a child when his mom would occasionally take care of you, let you help bake, and playfully dress you in her accessories. All but that scarf, folded neatly and tucked into a corner or her closet.

“Oh! Don’t touch that, love,” she said, “That’s something my mother-in-law made for me.”

You had pouted then, a spoiled brat of sorts. But Taehyung’s mother’s eyes were always warm and she spoke softer than cashmere, “I have to give that to my son when he decides to marry. Will you make sure he finds the right one, for me? You are his best friend, aren’t you?”

You remember the challenge you felt, yelling without hesitation, “Taetae will marry me! When we grow up I’ll be his bride and you won’t have to worry!”

She giggled in contentment, eyes squinted in a wide smile and petting you lovingly, “Ah, of course. I know you’ll be a wonderful wife, Y/N. Taehyung will be in great hands.”

“I had been there, you know,” Taehyung chuckles, “When you claimed you’d be my wife when we got older. I was hiding in the hallway and initially, I thought, ‘I’ll never marry my best friend!’. But, now… I just can’t imagine wanting to marry anyone else.”

You grin at him sadly. Of course he had been holding onto this his entire childhood.

“Taehyung…”

“We’re still young, I know that. I just want to give you this for your trip to make me feel more at ease and so you can think about it. You can take all the time that you need. I know Mother wouldn’t mind, especially for you.” You nod. It’s all you can do. Taehyung pulls you into a tight embrace and kisses your hair. When he pulls away, he wraps your neck into the warmth of the scarf you’d always wished to wear. But it’s almost suffocating now, locking in your fate before you even step out of the village boundaries.

“For now, just come back to me. I’ll be waiting for you no matter what you decide.”

You can fathom the communal disappointment of rejecting your strongest suitor. More importantly, you would be shameful to turn down his proposal. Once it was out there, there was no “decision”.

You can imagine your aunts now, squealing in delight and sewing from their best cloths.

Part Three

Though you never had the chance to explore much, this really was nothing you've ever seen before. An ominous stairway carved into rock weaved in and out of your trail which made it fairly easy to follow along. You can't imagine the labor that went into sculpting this far ahead and all the way up the side of the mountain; it was truly something mind-boggling. As the air begins to thin, the amount of snow starts to grow thicker. If you had waited any longer into the winter you wouldn’t even be able to see the path, you’re sure.

You only need to stop twice to catch your breath and sit down. Snacking on the bread Jin gifted you only a few hours ago. It’s satisfying to look back at the area you’ve covered, how small things look from your height and the beauty of a fresh snow blanket. The scenery to the riverbank was nowhere as near breathtaking to that of the mountain. A dreamscape of evergreen trees and varying shrubbery, crossing over a short wooden bridge floating over a near-frozen stream, even occasional wildlife prancing into view. The summit itself wasn’t terribly high. It was manageable to hike for the most part, more so that your goal wasn’t to reach the peak.

You could travel all the time, you think. Hike or take a horse somewhere farther than here but that’s not very practical. There was nowhere really to go and you didn’t have the luxury to just up and leave your household, and now Taehyung. The knots in your brain seem to loosen, blame the inclination and dry air infiltrating your head. Knowing your life was to be faced someday and all your immature ambitions to leave the village now seeming childlike and unattainable. The pessimism had yet to blow out your weak flame of philosophical rebellion but it was surely keeping you in check.

Judging by the sun's position, it's midday. Meaning it shouldn't be long before you catch sight of the "manor" and thus will be halfway finished with your journey.

You nearly walk off the cliffside before you notice the route's abrupt change and how it slithers deeper into the eye of the mountain. The farther you walk, the closer the earthy walls begin to shut in on you in a trench-like structure. It's even more unbelievable coming upon a short archway, perhaps man-made and mined through a boulder that could have fallen from atop one of the peaks. Being here, you realize, makes you feel small. Slithering through the terrain like a fairy in the tales your mother had told you at night. Of beasts and cryptids that could appear in the tangles of forest and vanish all in the same. There was a sort of dreamlike trance you found yourself in as you walked under the rock as if it were a portal.

And, unexpectedly, it's there. Atop a few more dreadful flights of stairs, hidden between an odd bundle of trees and beneath a fresh veil of snow, you can barely make out the silhouette of a house. It's still a bit far and eerily surrounded by fog but it's there and it almost looks as if it's... floating. Like a gateway to a secret nook of heaven.

It's one of those odd, puzzle-like mirages when you climb more steps to think you're only getting farther from the house. The swaying of branches keeps you from determining just how big it is and what it could possibly conceal. Even the atmosphere, chill and intimidating, makes your heart skip in perplexed anticipation. Having been at this for hours, if the staircase hadn't just ceased you would have kept walking straight into the dark wooden door.

But your aching legs find relief in the stretching flat surface of a porch and your exhilaration to reaching such a majestic destination that you could squeal. Of course, you don't, and instead get started at the task at hand.

You kneel onto the cool floor and begin to unload your things, neatly and without the need to rush. You lay stones on each corner of the tapestry to hold it down, you lay out the contents in somewhat of an aesthetically manner, you strike a match to light the incense and you mumble your thanks on behalf of the village, all as you were told. The snicker under your breath comes unwarranted as you finalize the display, even Taehyung couldn't have done this well.

It feels a little anticlimactic; a little short-lived. To have come up this whole way and spend a maximum of five minutes in somewhere you could spend days exploring. Idling, you can practically hear the warning clucks of your aunts engraved into your brain.

"Don't dilly-dally!"

"Come straight home."

"Even think of doing anything funny and I'll have Seokjin roast you alive."

Maybe it's why it's even more satisfying to you when you ignore them altogether, standing from your position and just dying to see the rest of the manor's exterior. One peek, one peek and I'll never stray from instruction ever again, you think. Just my last burst of freedom and then I promise to be a good girl with no more personality than a wet dish rag.

So you tiptoe to the massive door and lean your ear against it as if you could hear anything with its size and the strong winds. You questioned if anyone even lived here, void of any decorations or signs of recent activity. Maybe the deer would get to the food you laid out before someone even stepped foot on the property prior next Offering.

When there are no obvious indications of life do you weasel your way around the corner, an extension of the porch wrapping around the side of the house to much of your assumption and revealing an expanse of space. The cabin was two stories at the least, maybe even three if not had been for the first story windows and how incredibly tall they were. You could only imagine the comfort of being inside such a space, being able to wake and watch the snow behind a glass wall of incredible proportions. While you ogle the window do you, of course, fail to realize that it's transparent and startle a bit when something begins to move.

The reflection makes it a bit difficult to pinpoint, a large dark figure shifting ever so slightly in its confines. Like a complete buffoon, you near the wall even closer with squinted eyes just making out the shapes of an entity.

Whatever it is, it's incredibly large. A heart in shape and composed of monochromatic blacks, reaching the floor and surely much taller than you. It was killing you that you couldn't figure out what the hell it was, well-near leaning against the glass as you peer into the private space.

You freeze in place as the elongated heart is really in the shape of wings, accompanied by a body as they’re dragged behind it like a veil. Long and dark and ruffling occasionally as their owner rotates a bit...

But you don't get to see his face. The man in which you firmly believed could be nothing but a myth; as propaganda by the village elders to keep your actions in check. Rather, the seraphs were more authentic than you could have ever imagined, and as magical and inspiring as it may be, so are the Offering rules that are now proved and justified, and that could only mean that this was very, very unfortunate timing to be snooping around property that was not yours.

Your feet scramble backwards in attempt to flee out of sight, instead graciously slipping against the frozen wood and causing you to land quite harshly on your side. Your hip burns at the impact but more horrifyingly important, the crash rattles the side of the floating stoop and his eyes burn into your pathetic body. The moment is wedged between fractions of a second, eye contact barely existent but it's enough to see the daggers in the seraph's irises. It's enough of a warning for you to get back onto your feet and sprint as carefully as possible away from such a gaze that could light this winter wonderland into disastrous flames.

All that comes across your mind as you rush down the steps is how wrong you were. How you unjustly became more and more skeptical of the stories and legends of the creatures that existed in the crevices of the mountains. How numb you became to the warnings as your age drew near for your rite of passage. How much of a taboo you would become if you were to ever tell a living soul that you witnessed a seraph and its marvelous wings. Not that you would.

Your ability to run brings you to the realization that you forgot your things but it was beyond you now. For once in your life, you cherish the idea of being home and hiding under the covers in the tranquil warmth of a familiar fireplace. To dream away the moment that dark angel caught a sly fox trespassing into his territory and, rightfully so, looking as if he craved to skin it alive.

You yelp at the sudden caw of ravens as they fly overhead. Their screeches send shivers to your bones, a sudden chill slowing you down. Rustling in the nearby trees deem you completely terrified, a gut feeling deducting the possibility of winds blowing that strong in the middle of dense shrubbery. Your heart drops once more; your athame was left in the abandoned bag.

The last time you had seen a wolf was when you were barely a toddler, sleepily held in the arms of a younger (and much kinder) Mina. It lurked in the woods just past the fields, a little young and possibly separated from its pack. But wolves were smart and they knew better than to make trouble in a town of loud humans. You remember the way it pulled its ears back and slinked back into the sanctity of its wild home and never to be seen again.

These wolves were smart too, howling their announcement upon finding a small, weak girl all alone and oozing dread. Two pairs of eyes track you as their corresponding bodies stalk out of the bushes, large and sleek and beautiful. Both grey and both incredibly hungry, they begin to pace around you maybe 100 feet away. You startle back and up a stair, most favored option to return to the cabin and retrieve your bag, maybe stay near for a bit until the creatures leave but then another, black and larger than the other two, barks harshly and stands its ground on your sacred steps. You are royally trapped.

“Stay… Stay back,” you warn dumbly, looking to the only open direction in the woods. You wouldn’t be as fast as on the path as long as you had to maneuver through the snow but you could possibly break off a hefty branch. Enough to ward them off to get back to the cabin and pray that the seraph doesn’t pose more of a problem than flesh-eating hounds.

So you sprint, robes clenched in your fists and boots sinking into the pillows of ice, disappearing into the trees and disregarding the snarls that start up behind you. You look desperately for something, anything to help you. Snow begins to find its way into your shoes each time you trip over yourself, wetting the soles of your feet. Hands scraping against bark with each twist and turn and your fingers burn. You only look back occasionally, seeing no more than one pair of eyes at a time at a short distance. This must have been a fun game to them, howling their contents into brisk air.

The black dog truly appears from nowhere, a flash of teeth from your left peripheral before it tackles you to the ground the same moment you find a dead branch and thrust it into its snapping jaw. It all happens too fast. You yipe as you roll through the fall, wolf teeth still digging through your only weapon and snapping the poor thing to two. In pure desperation, you dig the sharper broken half into whatever it’s willing to hit. Fortunately enough, the wolf whimpers and tumbles off you. Then you’re off once again, adrenaline ringing in your ears as you don’t even care to recall which way is which, as long as it’s away from, what can you assume was, the Big Bad Alpha.

More howls from them, more cries from you.

You’re able to return to the path without another spotting. It turns out you were going the wrong way when you’re also met with the narrow exit and that cursed archway. A gateway to inevitable death.

Halfway through the gap in manic rush and you’re face to face with a beast so pale that it camouflaged with the flurry encasing you both. Eyes clear as water and almost… comforting. Even with the low rumble in its throat and one paw in front of the other in a slow, tantalizing chase. The others growl behind you, an enraged black-furred monster bleeding from its right eye socket turned quite smug now knowing that you were completely, utterly trapped.

It’s when the white wolf soundlessly drags a deep wound into your thigh while the three merely watch is when you ascertain that it is, undoubtedly, the pack leader. You fall back as the beautiful thing toys with you, snatching the front of your thick robe and shredding it with a sickening rip. You scream for the first time this entire chase, grabbing at Taehyung’s scarf in fear that it got caught along with it, caring for it more than your own life at this point.

The scream must have been piercing enough to discombobulate your attacker, it’s large ears flitting around as it jumps away from you. It’s even more of a shock when they all flee out of the divide, leaving you bleeding and too traumatized to move an inch. Whatever alarmed them devastates you even more.

The ravens caw loud and the ground vibrates. Watching the birds circle in the sky, you notice the way pebbles begin to crumble from each peak, how snow begins to over pile on such weak grounds and the way it begins to slide inward.

It’s an odd sound; snow sliding against other layers of snow and having so much weight that it pulls a few small trees with it. And this trench-like area only had so much space and you were positive the amount of white that begins to hurl towards you would fill it like a water cup; bury you with absolutely no chance of being able to dig your way out. Despite your fear, you cower at its charge and wait for the weight to hit.

And then your head lolls back against something wonderfully warm and dry. You were completely soaked but too exhausted to shiver. In your last moments of consciousness, with your neck craned uncomfortably, you see the ground as the sky and the sky as the ground and feathers as feathers. You think of home. Think of warm summers where you would dip your feet in the riverbed. Think of bonfires with Jungkook and Jin and Hoseok and even Taehyung. But everything is still snow and you think you’re beginning to loathe each damned flake. The only comfort you find is the homeliness of the carmine red material that blows softly against your face. With that and the fleeting thought that you might be righteously transported to heaven do you finally pass out.

Part Four

Yoongi wasn’t particularly fond of humans. Unlike his brothers and sisters that sympathized with such weak creatures enough to put their own lives at risk, it was just something he would never come around to understand. Species were organized and separated for reasons and intermingling was a curiosity that died ages ago for him.

Which is all a hypocritical contradiction when he sees you sleep soundly on his common room couch, changed into dry clothes and buried beneath a heap of duvets. Whatever had possessed him to go after you was pure impulse after the stunt you pulled on him. Prowling around on private property and, more importantly, breaking the village’s strict ritual rules. Catching him going about on what would be another unmomentous day in his schedule, creating enough of a ruckus to capture his attention, and then fleeing as a feeble mouse.

It’d be a lie if he had said he didn’t watch you scramble away down the steps from the comfort of his front door and a fresh coffee in hand, watching you stumble over nothing on your way. It was more when you had left your things like a pure imbecile, food and tools and all, and left without even waiting for the incense to finish burning. It was then that he came to the conclusion that you were incredibly clumsy and that served as entertainment to him.

The howls were his test of will. Knowing the dogs were way farther up the mountain than they normally were and supposing they had followed your poor, unfortunate soul during your trek, waiting for the perfect time to strike. And you were practically handed to them on a silver platter, considering you’d left your only knife on the cold wood of his porch.

Maybe he had come down, grumpily disturbed from his peaceful Saturday, more to save himself from cleaning the remnants of someone eaten in his vicinity more than the compassion to save you. But that was a tad bit too cruel, even for him. He thinks it was more of that uniquely curious glint in your eyes as you practically skipped into his sight. Daring enough to ignore those rather ridiculous warnings and try your luck. Delicate as a deer in hunter’s perspective. As often as he’d go out to restock supplies in neighboring towns would he never come across a visitor in his own domain. Call him quaint, but it was a mediocre surprise.

He prods the fire, making it crackle and reflame with more vigor. It had barely been a few hours since he’s saved you by the skin of his teeth, almost caught in the landslide himself.

He checks the wound on your leg once more, cleaning it again before securing it in bandages. If only he had gotten there faster, Yoongi tsks, but you’d strayed from the path and he could only follow the prints so quickly before they were covered by the flurry. By the time he found you again, you were knelt in front of the pack and submitting to your death. Had he not been on a hill, had he not been able to utilize his useless wings to glide down before the snow had claimed you first…

You groan softly, unable to roll around without a searing poker sinking into your thigh with each attempt. Contrast to the icicle state the rest of your body sported. You felt like hell. Like hell in hell guarded by those hounds. Hell in your thigh and hell in your head and hell in—

“Don’t move too fast. You have a fever and I just replaced your bandages,” a disembodied voice orders. Your eyes snap open to tall, wooden ceiling. Sitting up is your first horrible mistake, dropping back down immediately with a pained wheeze.

“I just said not to move too fast. If you can sit up normally, you should drink some water. I have some here,” it speaks again. You try again cautiously, blurry spots ruining your vision the farther up you scoot. A silhouette is kneeling beside you, maybe a cup in his hand but you’re too jumbled to confirm.

Yoongi tries his best to fold in on himself, lowering the obvious limbs stuck to his back and appear as human as possible. You wouldn’t be able to run again in your state but he tries his best to be courteous to your skittishness anyway.

“Where… Where am I?” You dazingly question. You don’t really… recall too much. Last memory somewhat muddled between your send-off and contact with those treacherous wolves, very few in between and serving no importance if you couldn’t remember how it ended.

“You’re safe in my house. In the mountains still. You passed out pretty good out there, been out for a bit. Now drink.”

It’s easy to do as your told with you’re running off little brainpower, downing the water hastily.

The voice scolds, “Hey, slow.”

At some point, you can see again. The blankets that cover you and the large room you inhabit. Of course, the seraph from earlier that awaits by your seat. His seat. But you feel no urgency to scurry into safety. You were discombobulated, sure, but you knew enough that this man was kind enough to bring you into his home and care for you. So you fold back the material slowly and watch his face contort into confusion as you try to stand.

“I’ll be on my way. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thank you for treating me.”

“Woah now. You’re in no condition to be standing. Besides, the path is blocked. Snow was too heavy and caused a slide. I doubt it’ll clear until the spring,” he informs, looking out the window as if to drag your own attention to it. The snow stopped but it’s fallen a few feet, at least. The path, you remember, chased by wolves and led into an ice trap. The few split moments in which the man must have scooped you up before your demise, remnants of being carried back towards his estate.

His place, in which is even more amazing inside than it was outside, a luxurious wooden mansion of sorts, tall and spacious and filled with those incredible windows that displayed better than you could have ever dreamed. The man himself that sits beside you draws full attention. Despite his position, he was large and still intimidating as the moment you crossed sights for the first time. Hair matching his wings in dark palette, soft and delicate looking. His face anything but, sharp eyes and thick brows, lips that curved into a simper. Above all, he looked more human. Even as radiant and prepossessing as he was, if the cape of wings didn’t follow him where he went he would look just as human as the rest of the population.

“Are you a seraph?” You ask dumbly. Dumb, because he laughs and because he obviously is.

“Are you a human, pretty thing?” He retorts. There’s no condescending lilt to his words but it makes him seem otherworldly to you. With such a provoking question and your lightheadedness, he seemed a blessing to be inhabiting such an earth.

You melt into the cushions once more, leg throbbing and eyes heavy. You watch his wings as they bob with his breath, “They say it’s bad luck to lay eyes on the wings of an angel…”

“Why would that be?,” he scrunches his nose, maybe a little appalled by the idea, “Such a misleading myth. Besides, I’m no angel.”

You don’t know why he stands to leave the room after that, unnoticing how you fall back into sedation a minute later.

Part Five

You wake with clarity. Check your thigh to find it almost completely healed over except a now lingering scar. All’s left is a dull soreness but god it felt so much better. Enough to stand and stretch in the empty room. Enough to coherently realize that you only wear your underwear while the rest of your garments hang torn and sadly on the fireplace screen. It’s not as unbecoming if it had to be done for the sake of your health and wellbeing, right?

Getting dressed is easy when you don’t even bother with your robe, the gash decreeing it useless and instead tying Taehyung’s scarf around your shoulders as a shawl over your tank. You’re lucky it didn’t get torn.

There’s a fleeting moment where you really think you miss Tae, feeling a little regretful to being so afraid of his proposal in light of the recent accident. You’re sure he must be worried sick; must think you’ve perished under the debris and snow if he’s come to look for you. As his best friend, you solemnly wish he was here to hug you close and promise that it would all be okay. To fend off your shame and welcome you back into the village with teary eyes and a warm smile.

“Ah, human. You’re awake.”

You whip around to discover fox eyes in the door frame, poorly lit now that it’s nighttime. The moonlight pairs well with how it sits on his milky skin, almost something out of a painting.

“It’s Y/N. Not ‘human’.” You answer a little sharper than you mean. He notices too, quick to wave it off since he really had popped up out of nowhere. He tries your name once on his own tongue, a satisfying thing to say.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Min Yoongi, in case you don’t want to call me seraph all the time.”

You suddenly grab your thigh, rubbing it over your pants in questionable disbelief, “How long have I been asleep? My leg is almost fully healed…”

He rubs at his eye, a little nonchalant about the scene at hand, “Only overnight and throughout the day today. It’s probably quarter to nine about now. I had medicine to help your cuts heal over nicely. Call it, uh, advanced seraph technology.”

The gashes hadn’t been incredibly deep to begin with, thankfully not going any further than the first layer of skin and just really causing some bleeding, but it was still amazing. The feeling is short lived. Even if only a day, you’ve overstayed your welcome.

“Thank you, um, Mr. Min. For saving my life and everything after that. I’d like to repay you sometime. But for now I’m afraid I should be heading back, I’ve stayed for too long. I’m sure I can find some way over the path.”

It dawns on you that Yoongi is a little facetious, especially when he purrs a, “Well you can do whatever your little heart desires, but I’m here to remind you that there is no path. Here, look out the window.”

You do, tiny bit distracted when he stands by you to point out the ridges of the mountains that surround you. “See those? How they curve in towards the top and how it sort of resembles a bowl? This area was made only for seraphs to get in and out of generations ago; flight only. Trying to climb it would be suicide on both sides. The path that goes through was strictly for human use, and if that’s blocked, there’s no way out, little one.” You weren’t the shortest in your village but Yoongi truly was massive, both lanky and filled-out somehow. Like there’s underlying strength to his lean build. You’re sure if you were to stand directly in front of him, the top of your head would barely surpass his sharp shoulders.

You disregard his name for you, a bit annoyed at this point, “Could you not fly me over the pass?”

Yoongi repeats in disbelief of such a daring request, “Fly… You over the pass… No. I’m sorry. I won’t do that. If you truly want to figure it out, you should do so soon. It's storm season."

Gritting your teeth, you express your discontent for once. What did he save you for, then? For points? You didn't know members of the almighty seraph clan were so keen to half-completed deeds. "And why not? Wouldn't you rather I be on my way? What am I supposed to do if I can't leave?"

"You forget yourself, Y/N. Did I not save your life? Chase after you and save you from being crushed? Buried alive?" He takes a second to straighten himself out, aware of how you look to your feet in frustration.

"Hey," he starts again, "I know you'd like to go home. I only tell you the truth of your situation in its entirety. If I could fly you over the pass I would but unfortunately, I'm out of commission."

You feel heat in your face, embarrassed of the way you address a complete stranger even after all the things he's done for you. But this was frankly a sticky situation to find yourself in, trapped and unable to get Yoongi to help you any further. Though you do wonder what he means by his last statement...

"I'm... I'm sorry. I don't mean to make demands. I'm just scared and in a place I'm not used to and I'm not quite sure what I'm to do from here. Is there no one else who can help me over?"

Yoongi averts his gaze before he shakes his head, "I'm the last one in this country."

That's even more odd to hear but you don't prod for information that isn't yours to learn.

In silence, you contemplate the work that even went into carrying another human body by use of wings that were structurally built for the owner's own weight and possibly nothing else. Now was not the time to be ignorant.

“What am I supposed to do?” You mumble weakly. Yoongi watches your gears turn warily, stress surely beating down on you.

He rubs his neck, ruffles his left wing, “Listen. I promise I’ll help you back come spring. You won’t be able to make a dent in the landslide as long as it continues to build with snow every night.” He tends to forget that humans are pack animals, often lost without one another and feeble in the hands of species not of their own.

Your doe eyes, beginning to well with tears, convince him over tenfold, “I’ll help you in any way possible to pay you back for all the things you’ve done. I know I’ve caused nothing but trouble but if you have the room, is it possible I stay here?”

And Yoongi had enough vacant rooms to house a whole herd of deer now that he’s been alone for these sum of years. It really was no trouble… and he could make use of you as long as you stayed. His brow shoots up, “You can stay.”

Your grin is enough to light the whole room encased in night’s darkness, looking back down to the ground now knowing you had some hope to hold onto in such an eventful day. A whisper of a thank you Mr. Min is thrown in and Yoongi can feel his fists tighten.

He clears his throat, standing a little taller than he already is and acting strict, “But there are some rules. And you can just call me by my first name.”

Part Six

It's always a little weird trying to adjust to new scenery. Though your past experiences have been anticlimactically different than this; not exactly the first time visiting a friend's house or dropping off delivered goods from Seokjin's shop and awkwardly facing an elder who forces you to stay for tea.

Yoongi had shown you around the areas you needed to know. Offered you the closest room to the main part of the house with a king bed, fresh sheets and your own majestic window to stare out of. The living room which you had rested in before and the kitchen, grand and spacious just like everything else. He showed you a greenhouse out back that was utterly ginormous. Stone walkways and a hot compost keeping it from freezing, rows of plants you both have and haven't witnessed before. And again, he showed you what you needed to know.

That goes onto the chores he assigned you as long as you stay, to help him clean come Sundays and manage the plants throughout the week which served as no problem. At least with horticulture you proved some use, struggling throughout the weekend to do anything else but cause Yoongi a bit of a headache.

Tuesday rolls around and Yoongi stops by your room with stationary. Tells you he has a messenger bird to deliver any letters you desire to send home and you hop on the opportunity quicker than the landslide had tried to eat you up.

Of course, it was an exceptionally long letter. Longer than the papers Yoongi had given to you and he had to fetch more when you looked absolutely devastated sitting at your desk. You began with the simple phrase, "I'm okay." Filling it with a volley of explanations and apologies, how you were nearly killed, how the seraph had scooped you up to safety and how you inhabit his home now until further notice. You write how you talk, sure the recipients are sure to read in hushed mumbles and run-on sentences. You explain that there's no use to try to get home now while the clouds continue to precipitate and gate your only exit from the bowl-like wonderland. You end with how you miss them already, a request to send back an update or two every once in awhile, and a final wish to have a happy winter without you (though you're sure they won't appreciate that joke).

You think, if they really receive the letter, how terribly furious they'll be with you. Taehyung and Jungkook will probably come hiking up the mountain to try to put a dent in the debris and fail miserably. Your aunts and how they must feel even the tiniest bit of guilt for thinking you so small and helpless. Mina and her jealous wonder that you've done it now, how you've seen a seraph before her and you're positive she'll have a flurry of questions when you return. When you return.

You come out onto the balcony to pay your respects to your so-called "messenger", pretty white thing large and wide-eyed. Humorous is the familiar to another winged being, bird of a feather, you chuckle to yourself. Yoongi pays no attention when he murmurs directions to the bird and sends it off, straight in the direction you were hoping.

Thursday and you think you finally have your routine down. No longer unsure in the hallways and able to sit when your work is done without feeling completely out of place. It's only when you're around the other member of the cabin do you feel a little subdued, reminding you that you burden him and quickly finding something to do out of that guilt.

❋

Today you feel a bit sluggish. You drag yourself down the corridor, opting for the bath until you see a dark head in an open room. Yoongi sits in his study, presumably reading with his back facing you. You can't say you've seen this room before, ceilings just as tall and walls just lined with books, journals, art pieces and things of the like.

"You can come in," he snickers suddenly, maybe feeling the heat from your eyes boring into the back of his head and warming the space entirely.

"This is amazing... Your collection, I mean." You force yourself down in a chair, hands trapped underneath your thighs in case they feel like touching anything.

"Thank you. It took quite a bit of time to build it up. Not by myself, of course."

It makes you ponder. If he's mentioned his state of loneliness twice, then your questions were expected.

"There were more, right? Family of yours? Why are you the only one left?"

"One question at a time, yeah?" He swivels around and takes off a pair of reading glasses that you would have liked to inspect on his face a bit more, "I can't leave because I can't fly, remember? They left because they held no other duty tied to this land. That's all."

You quiet. He returns to reading whatever it is on his flat desk. "Why can't you fly?"

"Because I was hurt."

"How were you hurt?"

"Next question."

"What are you reading?"

"A story of a girl with a terrible habit of too many inquiries."

"You know, I loved to read when I was a kid. All kinds of things. Novels, studies, maps even. Now I never have the time for such pleasantries." A wistful sigh leaves your lips.

Yoongi eyes you beneath his lashes, watches as you survey the room with giddiness and hands taut underneath your bum. "Why's that?"

You frown, "Too many things to do. Jobs and cleaning and family and stress. If I have time to read, I have time to be doing something more important."

His lips curl, amused at this little play-thing in his room. Like a child scolded all her life, whining and pouting in front of a stranger. Yoongi stands tall and shrugs his sweater tighter around him, "Well then, you'd better hop to it."

"Hm?" You squeak, chewing on your lip when you meet his eyes. So innocent.

"You only have the winter to read these. I'd get started soon. After work is done and you want to poke around in here, feel free to do so. Take them to your room if you'd like, just please return them."

And he swears he sees damn stars in your eyes before he turns and leaves the room. He hears your immediate footing once he's halfway to his room, little yelps of excitement enough as his thanks. Yoongi can't help but smirk, eventually floating away and speaking way out of earshot for you to hear.

"Nothing is more important than the things you want."

Part Seven

After a month, you find it a little boring. After receiving a teary letter of how your family misses you, not one ounce of scold or chastisement more than it was just wholesome relief to see familiar handwriting, their only wish was for you to stay obedient and not write so often as to waste poor Yoongi's paper. It was typical, somewhat stress-relieving. And that was that.

It was often you spent your quiet interest reading of botany and romance (in what little you found of it) preferably in his study on days he's holed up in his room. At this point, he still remains somewhat of a mysterious entity, conversing when he must and accidentally showing his face once or twice like a ghost. The only times you really see him are for Sundays with idle chit chat.

One particular evening you find an old, ratty recipe book. Handwritten and falling at the seams and that's how you know that there are some golden tips in there for you to test out.

You choose pumpkin bread. Something to warm the palette while ice continues to build outside. And working in Yoongi's kitchen by yourself was oddly fulfilling, no one to correct you or send you off to another job if you fail to do the first. It's probably why your bread turns out perfect, slicing the loaf and placing a piece on a small plate for a friend.

Rather, someone you'd like to establish as a friend.

You haven't seen him once today; not odd but a little lonely. Pacing on the carpets and looking for an open door with any sign of a sly angelic being. Even after a month, it's the first time you've freely made something with intents of sharing with him. Was that rude of you?

Coming upon a jarred entrance, you speak softly, "Yoongi? Are you in there?"

No reply.

You clear your throat and toe the door open just enough to stand in its frame, "Yoongi? I made some pumpkin bread for us—"

Thank your soft voice does it not wake him, still a snoring log in a bed even larger than yours. His limbs sprawled widely, laying on his stomach and breath soft and slow. Sleeping in the middle of the day while his guest slaves over the stove must be quite nice, huffing subtly and placing his plate on his night desk. Sure to be spoiled even more when he wakes to a treat.

As you turn, your eyes can't help but dawdle over the expanse of his wings. One covering a naked back and one hanging off the side of the bed, a marbling effect of muddled sepias and ink blacks, occasional golden ochre pigments seeping through the deepest layers of feathers. It was utterly breathtaking. This has to be one of the first opportunities you've had to inspect them so, equating staring at his monstrously large wings the same as blatantly staring at his junk.

You draw close like a moth to a damn flame, checking to assure he's still sound asleep. Reaching delicate fingers, you dare to lay a palm on the mass. It's surprisingly strong, an odd firmness as you slide your hand down silky plains and watch as the feathers ripple by your touch.

Then, as if you weren't dumb enough to foretell the upcoming events, he wakes.

A whirl of darkness encases you, whips you around so fast that you see stars in the middle of day, completely flipped and pinned to the bed beneath you. The intense heaviness makes you recoil, unable to budge your wrists and legs with Yoongi's strength.

And his face of unadulterated fury is one that would be ingrained into your memories forever. Pupils dilated and nose scrunched like prey warding off predator. Yoongi was surprised to say the least, a scared frenzy of confusion as he growls down at you.

"What were you doing, human?"

Your weeping gains no mercy, "Ow, you're, you're hurting me!"

"What the fuck were you doing?" He spits.

Incoherence is not what he asks for but that's all you can give, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I won't touch them again I was just—"

His wings which were so beautiful to you before, makes you feel nothing but fear now, flapping angrily as he keeps his balance and shrouding you in shallow lack of light. When he lets up on his grip, you gasp like he also held your breath. Immediate relief streams through your blood, though he continues to trap you between his thighs. He asks you again and you sob.

"You know what happened the last time I let one of your kind close? Nearly fucking killed me for no reason. You know why I can't take you down the mountain? Why I'm stuck here by myself? Because a goddamn human stole my ability to fly. I can't fly anymore, do you understand me? That's all that I was and they took it!"

Yoongi sees the pity etching onto your face like some sort of charity case. With your pathetic excuse for tears that claim to sympathize with him and it makes the bile in his throat grow. As for you, you could have never imagined such a travesty. Those words that seem to bounce around in your skull, to be wholesomely one thing and to be rid of it by someone else's doing, you could never relate to that.

You itch to relieve his pain in some way as if he never lashed out on you to begin with. Like you were the one truly at fault here even though you know it's a two-way situation. Your hands struggle to not touch his face, to attempt to alleviate those dark, regretful feelings. "Yoongi, I'm so sorry. I would never—I would have never known--I'm from one of the villages where we look up to the—"

"Yeah, well I don’t trust people," He cracks, lungs filled with muddled sorrow.

Both of your breathing is ragged. He takes his leave off your body and sits on the edge of the bed, wings lamely drooped.

"Leave." So you do.

Part Eight

You find the most beautifully carved wooden bow the next morning. Sun barely risen and adventuring around in nooks you haven't looked through before. You find it, accompanied by plenty of arrows, leaning against the wall right outside the backdoor. Though it's been months since you've last hunted, you ache to make use of yourself. Wearing bundled layers of the clothes Yoongi let you borrow from what was left and bounding through the condensed areas of the woods behind the cabin.

Food isn't scarce to hunt for, you've come to realize. Rabbits abundant and easy to kill once you got the hang of it once more. Two are struck and red seeps through white. You always sink your knees into the ground after each kill, whispering your thanks before you move back to the house.

Taehyung's father had taught you the basics of hunting and fishing and everything that came after that. Skinning and cooking and preserving the flesh something everyone in the village should learn to do, he had said. Even after your mistakes, even after your hesitation for your first kill, he'd always pat you on the back and reward you with the first bite of fresh food.

You miss them all, especially now. It wouldn't be long until you saw them again with maybe a bit of heightened skills. You hope they'll be proud of you.

Yoongi wakes a little after you're finished cooking the first rabbit. He stumbles in quiet and groggy, as if having no recollection of the previous altercation. But he doesn't speak, doesn't so much as look your direction before he plops at the head of the dining room table and begins to sulk in an odd inner-turmoil state.

You wait a minute or two by garnishing the meat unnecessarily; perhaps he was waiting to say something. To apologize. To ask questions. To kick you out once and for all. Well, you'll beat him to it then.

You set his plate down in front of him, the jarring sound breaking his trance enough where he can finally meet your face.

"I hope you don't mind I used your bow. I cleaned the arrows afterward and put it back where I found it," you hesitate. "I appreciate your kindness thus far; to take me in like this. I was a complete stranger and you gave me shelter anyway, so I thank you. I've packed and cleaned and I—I think it's time I leave now. I'll find a way to get over, I don't care. And I'm, I'm so sorry for all the trouble I've caused, Yoongi. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable but I overstepped my boundary way too far yesterday and I apologize profusely."

You find that you dig your nails into your palms as you talk, head craned parallel to the floor and you wonder if Yoongi could even hear you when you were so rudely speaking to the rugs.

"Stop, you don't... You don't have to leave. There's still no way you can get over the snow." He massages the back of his neck, tense in his own skin.

"I'm so sorry," you repeat. "I let my stupid curiosity get the best of me and I can very clearly see how that made you feel alarmed and uneasy and—"

He cuts you off, "You know the myth, right? How it's bad luck to see a seraph's wings?"

Confused, you nod.

"It's not literal. It's a metaphor that it's bad luck to see our vulnerabilities. Our faults. Years and years and years ago, when the war was still active, I got mixed up with a human. Within enemy boundaries. I was naive and trusting and they made use of that. They sought out my weaknesses, ate 'em up and covered my suspicions with false adoration and love," he says the word like it's an illness, "But then. But then one night, they put something in my water. Drugged me. Something was wrong and I didn't fully go under. I suppose their original plan was to take me, probably torture me as a prisoner. But I caught on and still had a bit of composure and when they realized the drugs didn't work, they sought to kill me instead. Used a dagger and plunged it into my back as hard as they could. Right," he reaches an arm behind and massages a spot, "Right in the cross-section of where all four wings meet. I should have been paralyzed but we're tough. I can still move them but I haven't been able to fly since. Thank heavens I wasn't killed but..."

You can tell by the way that there’s no emotion in his statement, how true it rings, "That day, I might as well have been."

You wipe the pools of tears with your scarf, heartbroken for the shattered man that sat in front of you. Having to bear the sight of his wings every day and full-knowing he would never be able to use them again.

His voice croaks, "In their eyes, my own family's eyes, I commit a sin just by making such a fool of myself. The war ended and I was punished. They left me here and claimed loneliness is what I deserve."

Yoongi then realizes he sounds as if he's trying to justify yesterday's actions and literally sinks to the ground, "This isn't supposed to be a pity party. I just thought you might want to know why I am the way I am and how I had no right to snap like I did. I know you're from the north most village. And that you would never try to do what they did and I was wrongfully paranoid."

Then, out of all things unexpected, he grabs a bare ankle and lifts it out of the length of your dress. When you hobble, he grabs your gentle hand with his other to balance you. He can see the marks he left, not too dark but enough to tell and he can't help but despise himself. In pure remorse, he presses his lips softly to each bruise, not lingering for more than a second, before cowering to the ground with his head low.

"My sincerest apologies, Y/N. You don't have to leave if you don't want to. I prefer if you wouldn't. I'd like to get to know you and redeem myself, as selfish as that may seem. Maybe, until spring, I can make up for the things I've said and done—"

You sputter, voice too high and full of embarrassment as you struggle to pull him up, "Please! P-Please get up! I am at fault here! Don't kneel, please! You have nothing to make up for!"

Mouth agape and eyes wide, he watches you yell your affirmations and weakly tug on his arm. It was like watching a little kid throw a fit and that makes him chuckle aloud, how could he have ever suspected you as harmful? When your large eyes shed tears like no other and you impulsively make decisions for others before yourself. You were kind and he could see that. He laughs hard and you stop your squawking.

In disbelief you fall to your knees right beside him, looking plain stupid while you're at it. It occurs to you that you've never heard him laugh like this, smile so wide that his eyes crescent endearingly and it just lights up the room. After watching his handsome face radiate forgiving happiness, you join in too.

You eat rabbit together. The conversations from there on out easier to come up with, more emotional and found in the midst of tranquil understanding. Like you now shared a bit more of each other than before.

Occasionally, you think of all the sadness he must have accumulated until now. Of the things that happened to him that shouldn't have, and those years of isolation and abandonment that he suffered. But now you realize, too, how he's able to laugh and continue on despite those melancholy winters in a desolate place that he once called home. How it's all he can do as his only sign that he's still alive.

Part Nine

The weeks after that seem to breeze past you; time racing when you have more things to do and someone to do it with. Yoongi really meant it when he said he would try to make up for his past harshness; never daring to miss a meal, spending more time in the livelier rooms if it meant that it was to accompany you, going as far as helping you out with your own chores if he hadn’t taken them over entirely. It was a polar opposite of who you knew before.

The first time he joined you to hunt again, in favor of how you had cooked his meat the last time, he layered himself in clothing that made his appearance softer than you’d ever imagined. Leaning towards darker garments that contrasted against his opalescent skin.

In some haughty attempt to show off your archery skills do you aim for a squirrel in a less-than-mediocre angle, letting the arrow fly without a second thought and piercing good ol’ trunk. Yoongi had a fabulous time laughing at your mishap, yanking the wasted arrow from the bark and handing it back to you.

“That was a horrible shot,” he said.

The temperature of your cheeks could have melted the snow, taking the thing with shaky, embarrassed hands, “I was being hasty.”

“You got two rabbits. I know you’re good. Let me just show you some things.”

You walked behind, letting him tread through the snow first so it was easier for you to fall into his prints.

“There. Squirrel,” he whispered. Probably the same one, mindlessly crawling up and down trees like target practice.

“Let me see your form again.” You aimed, self-conscious and probably showed it. You shivered when he swiped a hand under your grip arm, pushing it back.

“Keep it aligned with how the arrow is facing. Completely centered. You can widen your feet a little too,” his voice soft. “Don’t completely lock your elbow but tighten your back muscles before you hold. Does that make sense?”

“Mm. It won’t stop moving though, the squirrel.”

“Watch this.”

Then Yoongi had dug through the snow for a small stone with enough weight to throw. Aiming for a far tree to the right, he tossed just hard enough to cause a knock to echo in its vicinity. The squirrel halts, presumably looking for what caused the noise in its unknowing last thoughts.

“Shoot.”

And it landed perfectly.

He watched you silently each time you had knelt next to the victim and mutter your thanks, both sorrowful and appreciative. It was the first time he ever witnessed someone, frankly, talking to dead animals and at some point he asked you why you did so. You responded with a giggle, briefly claiming how all living creatures deserve the same respect, to be mourned, to not be wasted. Yoongi finds interest in the concept of valuing each as their own and of the same importance in the Grand Circle of Life, probably something his family would never have stopped to think about. The seraphs had always placed themselves above others in a deserving, self-righteous kind of way. It made him think.

❋

A particularly windy night and you caught him in the seat of his study's window, drawn to the mirage of colliding trees and listening to the croaks of the house on its plot. A muddled bottle sat on his desk, its glass counterpart being twirled in his hand.

"Do you like storms?" You asked.

"I didn't used to," he answered, unfazed by your sudden entrance, "Caused problems a lot of times. But I think they're pretty fun nowadays. And you?"

"I like when there's thunder and lightning."

Yoongi faced you at that, your twiddling fingers and the way you scanned the dim room.

"Would you like to join me for a drink?" Although it was a question he poured you one anyway, barely anything more than a few sips worth. Obliging, you took the liquid. Pride a little stung in all honesty, pretty aware of your high tolerance.

He tittered, "Don't pout. You can pour as much as you'd like. But this stuff is ancient, concocted from poison and the desire of Death itself. Watch yourself."

It was always a trait of yours to take on a challenge, though, ignoring his warning and foolishly gulping it down. The burn was subtle despite its awful, awful taste, yet you poured another and let Yoongi watch you spiral down the rabbit hole.

Two stories and one half-glass later and you draped yourself very unladylike on his desk, too warm and too moist and too loud.

"Yoongi..."

"Yes?"

"Min... Min. Mr. Yoongi."

"That's wrong but that's me."

"Yoongi you have to keep a secret. That I'm going to tell you! From Yoo—from Yoongi!"

"Wait, that you're trying to keep a secret from me or—"

You must had forgotten, instead focused on bunching your skirt and tying it higher up your thighs, "Soooo hot. Too warm. I'm going to leave it like this, ‘kay?"

"You don't have to pass it by me. They're your clothes," he said, biting back laughter. His accidental peak of pretty, bare legs could have made him think different though. Reverting his gaze back out the window, he wouldn't have been surprised to see lightning that night.

Taking his eyes off you wasn't his best idea. Hobbled out of his chair and sneaking to his place with hands buried in feathers before he could shy away. Yet the wonder stained your eyes with childlike amusement and he wouldn't dare change that face. So he idled in a flustered mess, relaxed in the way you unknowingly massaged his muscles.

"Pretty wings, Mr. Yoongi... Can I touch them?" You asked stupidly. Yoongi grumbled.

When you finished evaluating, you swiveled awkwardly and tripped over his knee, a yelp escaping your lips as if he wouldn't catch you in one swift motion and onto the safety of his lap. Yoongi could smell the bite of alcohol that stained your breath; could see how swollen and red and beautiful it had made your gentle face. The proximity was deadly and your innocent, apologetic features could have slain him right then and there. You didn't even make another peep, eyes drooped in what he assumed was embarrassment for your clumsiness.

In which he thought wrong, your hands slapping each side of his face and squishing it together horrifically. "Pretty face, Mr. Yoongi."

"Alright, time for bed."

You fought all the way until he tucked you in, out with soft breaths and sprawled arms. Even after he had laid you down to rest and calmed back in his lair, there was no slowing the fondness that grew in his ribs.

❋

You don’t know when you’ve started looking forward to Sundays, springing out of bed in the morning with a green thumb and a will to dig, or so you imagine. You knew Yoongi would be waiting for you in the greenhouse and spent a little extra time rinsing your face, doing your hair, and double-checking nothing was in your teeth.

Yoongi was already checking the pots when you had gotten there, wrapped in black per usual and winking as you walked by. The familiarity by now was tangible. There was always a nice flow to your conversations and Yoongi doesn’t back away when you naturally find yourself in his space like he used to. It was both a prideful accomplishment and an endearing new relationship that sparked joy every time you were able to do something together. To step back and see the difference over your time spent here, the things you’ve done, and the way Yoongi warms up slowly.

He watches you mindlessly hum as you harvest what you can, voice soothing when most times it would have been dead quiet. That’s what it felt like being around you: like a void suddenly filled, his whole being gravitating to your aura. You were addicting, if he had to admit.

The scarf, somehow pristine despite how often you wear it, is shuffled up your neck as you do one thing or another. Like a constant reminder that it’s there, you always feel the need to touch it.

Yoongi points to it, “Did you make that yourself?”

“Hm?” You follow his line of sight and crumple the red thing in your hands, “Ah! No. It… It was a gift.”

“Ooh, from a suitor?” He doesn’t mean any harm when he jests but it prompts the things you’ve left at home. No matter how much you’ve tried to suppress it down and not nitpick on the responsibilities you’ll have to return to. Awful as it seems, it makes you take notice to the sun and how it begins to peak out more with every day. You push the thought down once more.

Instead you laugh nervously. Yoongi knows immediately when you say nothing but, “Mmm…”

His gut twists from a melting of surprise and disappointment. How could he be so dim? To not even hypothesize the mere possibility of someone else being in your life. Though the feeling weighs heavy on his head, he speaks lightly and with a smirk.

“You must miss him then.”

“Yes. Of course. We’ve known each other since birth and have been best friends for as long as I can remember!” You chuckle, “He gave this to me right before I left and claimed we could get married once I returned. I was so shocked that I made myself sick thinking about going back. Just nervous, I suppose.” Taehyung, as expected, never said anything in the occasional letter updates to you. He meant it when he said he would only wait to talk about it for when you came home but you ponder how he feels now; what he’s been doing. If he’s changed his mind once he’s realized how incapable you are that you couldn’t even do the Offering correctly, but you know that isn’t true. Maybe just wishful thinking.

You throw dead leaves in the compost and Yoongi eyes you.

“’Shocked’? It’s not something you’ve been looking forward to?”

You look down, “It’s not that I—I don’t know! I just have seen him as family for so long and then there’s this sudden proposal without even talking about it beforehand… And everyone expects it. For me to just be married and have a family and all of that but I just, I just don’t see that for me so soon.” Your words begin to jumble and Yoongi hasn’t seen you so stressed within the span of twenty seconds before.

“Forgive me and my input but isn’t the most important thing what you want? You could just turn down his proposal,” He suggests like it’s the easy answer, hoping you don’t suspect a hopeful tone in there.

“Does it really matter what I want?” You stop to think about the people who matter to you and what would ease their minds most when it comes to your future. Marrying Taehyung seemed like the only option. “I can’t turn him down simply because I don’t want to. That’s selfish.”

“That doesn’t make very much sense to me.”

“Well,” you sigh, “in the village it’s courtesy to accept a marriage proposal regardless of how you feel. It’s the receiver’s obligation to be grateful towards—”

“Is that how humans treat their women?” Yoongi spits, agitated just by the thought. He leans against a table next to you, arms crossed like he’s simply not having it, “To ignore your own say and force you to think you should just be appreciative? That’s some bullshit.”

“It’s not as serious as I’m making it seem it’s just…” You think of your aunts and the elders and Taehyung’s mom. How you’ve grown into a nuisance, lacking here or there. The time where you were supposed to return to the village after a successful Offering and marry and finally be someone to be proud of. “In my case, especially, it’s probably better off I’m just someone’s wife. I’ve never been much to begin with.”

And that’s truly heartbreaking for Yoongi to hear, so much that he becomes enraged with whatever twisted society you grew up in, “Y/N. What have you been doing these last few months?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, what have you been doing? Just sitting around? Watching me sweep circles around you? Serve your meals on a silver platter and draw your baths? No, because you’ve been doing that yourself. For yourself. By yourself.” The look of confusion on your face causes him to huff before he continues. “Sure, you were a little rough around the edges with some things but who isn’t? You hunt, you cook, you read like no other, you do a lot of great things and it’s not because you’re trying to do it right. You do it right when you like what you’re doing.”

“Yoongi, I understand. Thank you but you don’t have to—”

He walks toward you, lecturing on. “I know it’s by unwanted circumstances. But has your time here been horrible? Have you despised being here and doing these things?”

Your answer is immediate, “No. Not at all.”

“Has it not been nice to have your own space and do things simply because you want to? Because you were thinking of yourself?”

“I-It has been… I don’t know where you’re getting at.”

Your legs hit the corner of another table and you notice he’s backed you up into it.

“So, you go back and you do what you want like you have here. Don’t worry about what they think. Wait until you’re ready. Marry for absolute, unwavering love. Be a little selfish,” Yoongi hooks your chin with his index and props it up. You didn’t even realize you were looking to the ground. “Look up.”

Your heart stammers, “But Taehyung…”

So Taehyung is his name, Yoongi thinks. He frankly does not care.

“Do you love him?”

“W-What?

“Perhaps I was mistaken. Do you want to marry Taehyung because you truly love him?”

You see his lips before you hear his words, parted and nearing you bit by bit. So close that you feel his warmth, aching to close the distance. “I…”

A shovel clatters onto the stone and Yoongi removes his arm that’s found its way around your back, shuffles backwards and lets your hand fall from his face. It was natural to touch him, you realize, unaware that you feel distant and cold when he’s away.

Yoongi picks the damn thing up and curses. It wasn’t like him to be so forward, close to doing the unimaginable to you. You, who was involved with someone else. Heading towards the door, he ruffles his wings like he’s restarting.

“Forget I said that,” he requests, “I’m going to wash up.”

You nod, frozen in your spot with legs too unstable to dare walk. Without even knowing you had reached for him, so close to doing something you’ve only been secretly daydreaming about of recent and how incredibly wrong it was for you to think this way. But in another sense, you would feel worse lying to yourself by saying you weren’t attracted to the seraph. It was a twisted contradiction of emotions and you could scream.

Needless to say, you don’t see Yoongi until the next day, and even then nothing is mentioned of the almost.

Part Ten

On Tuesday, the bird returns with a letter from your family and Taehyung. It’s brief, with evident relief that the snow is melting and how happy they’ll be to see your face. Your heart sinks at how much you miss them yet how angry you are to receive the letter. To what extent would they be happy to have you home? Until you dare humiliate Taehyung when you turn him down? To dishonor your name and his parents and gain the glances of people who care more about your failures?

You calm and shoo such immature feelings away. Yoongi is confused when you don’t send a letter back and you return to your room early that night.

❋

You haven’t had a full night’s rest that entire week. You’re sure Yoongi notices the tension and that makes you feel horrible, but the lingering necessity to run to him and never go back to the village is too prominent to just face head on.

He’s been checking the trail every day, making dents on the softer parts of the snow when he can and updating you when he returns. You know he doesn’t want you to leave and you know he thinks you feel the same. Maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t said anything about the proposal that day.

Flipped onto your back, you stare at the ray of moonlight that floats atop your bed. You would miss it here, so much that it hurts your throat. You would miss the windows, the kitchen, the greenhouse, the library that Yoongi was happy to share. It goes without saying that you would miss him the most.

Unprompted imaging of a possible future with him interrupt your thoughts, something so uncertain and fortuitous in comparison to the stone-set fate you have now. What the stoic seraph would think if you just asked him to stay a little longer, until you know you would never leave. The landslide and how much you had hated that unfortunate event seems so insignificant now, replaced with a dimmed appreciation for this life detour, no matter how short lived it will end up.

You’re probably on the verge of sleeping now, thinking of the incident and it’s wild connection to your present out of pure lunacy. You could bet your entire existence on the fact that you were meant to meet him; your entrapment by the snow no mere coincidence. Neither was Yoongi’s endless solitude atop this mountain. It had to be fate that you two were to meet at this moment and your heart feels it so strongly.

Even for you this could be too far-fetched, or maybe you were just trying to cover up the way your heart is undoubtingly falling for Min Yoongi.

Final Part

You prod the logs, provoking them to catch more of the fire. In your last night do you decide to pour a glass of wine, kneel on a pile of blankets and snack on the charcuterie board you made for yourself. In the past, you used to be so hesitant about helping yourself to the manor’s amenities, having no problem doing it now.

The lame, weak fire is your only source of light in the large living room, clouds blocking the moon from shining through. You feel, immaturely, just as cloudy. Set in your intentions to leave your feelings locked away as to not cause more trouble, confusion, and inevitable heartbreak.

“You look quite comfortable,” Yoongi surprises you and he can tell when you jolt. Speaking of the devil. He looks great in the dark too, leaning against a wooden pillar with folded arms.

“Well, it feels like I’ve lived here for quite a bit. Just,” you break to sigh with exaggeration, “soaking it in before I leave. Too beautiful to not.”

If not for the crackling between the wood, it’d be dead quiet.

“Would you like to join me?”

He titters, rolling his eyes before he walks your way. Laying on his side, you offer him your glass. “I hope you don’t mind that I used the wine from the ritual contents. With the stuff you normally drink, this must be nothing.”

“Like water to me but I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.”

You cheers to nothing with one glass to share. Occasionally picking off meat and fruit from the board and enjoying how the fire builds up.

“Your family will be so happy to see you.”

You hum. You suppose they would. Avoiding the bitterness you still associate with the thought.

“And I’m sure Taehyung will be too.” He says a little clipped. Not in a way to be facetious or sarcastic but because he feels the need to address it.

Yoongi is caught on the carmine scarf again, downing the rest of your poor wine.

Forcing a smile, you speak faintly, “Let’s not talk about that.”

At this point you both know. He nods to keep you happy, but there is no hiding or pretending. In front of the flames, your lies and justifications seem to melt away unspoken. Changing the subject, you shove him lightly, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone. I don’t think you’ll ever learn to bake as well as I do.”

He tuts, which is refreshing. “I’m great at cooking and baking, I’ll have you know. It was just nice having someone else do it for once.” You feign betrayal and scoff aloud. He mumbles low, “But I’ll miss you for more reasons than that.”

And he breaks an unmade promise not to bring it up again. Feeling the need to throw it out in the open and even with the simplicity of admitting that he’ll miss you, you really know what he means. The seraph feels for you. He feels deeply. Yoongi doesn’t expect a response, just pops more food in his mouth and rests his eyes.

You contemplate, following suit with a bite to a grape and thinking hard. What to do. What to say. How to say it if you did. You weren’t supposed to feel this way and it goes way beyond the rule of even coming in contact with a seraph, let alone unconsciously falling in love with one.

But that’s just it: how you live by assumptions and rules based off the words of the ignorant villagers and the elders, how they all believe the seraphs are all still here, how they think there’s a direct relation to the Offering and a year’s good harvest, how it’s bad luck to see a seraph’s wings when it’s brought you anything but. If you learned anything from this winter, it was that you found you own way of living, thank the curiosity your home curses you for. Making your own path instead of aimlessly walking one that was already paved. You learned to trust yourself a little more while Yoongi propelled you forward and believed you deserved it all. You learned you did deserve more. You learned what love really felt like when it was new and fresh and exciting and real. And Yoongi. Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi was the wine to your previously empty glass, and this winter with this man, it was heaven.

You decide the realization is enough for you. Have been gifted with so many things and blessings that you’re grateful for the chance to have met someone like him.

“I’ll miss you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi tastes bitter in his mouth. He felt that if all these years left alone in a manor of silence and rejection was to eventually meet you he would do it a million times, but if all you could reciprocate was this then it just wasn’t meant to be for him. It felt unfair but it also wasn’t his decision. He takes the sourness with him and stands. “I suppose I should head to bed.”

Your sad stare breaks his heart, even more so when you give up and nod. The fire catches your attention as it pops and you leave it at that. He tries to walk away, footsteps haunting, until he stops altogether.

It comes unexpectedly when he wraps his arms around you tightly, pressing his knees into your back. A weird sight it is to see his wings unfurl and curl around your rigid body. “Are you satisfied? Is this enough for you?” His voice is soft, like he could take either answer as long as he heard it from you directly.

“No.”

“Why don’t you ask for more.”

“You’ve already done too much for me, how could I possibly ask you for more?”

He hisses liar into your ear. “Is it your family?”

“No.”

“Is it him? Taehyung?”

Here you are again, faced with a question that tore you apart in the garden while you ached to be with Yoongi anyway. But there were no distractions here; nothing to interrupt your thoughts. Just you, Yoongi and your truth. He loosens his grip so you can face each other, knees between knees. Instinctively, you reach out for his feathers and indulge yourself with their softness. He pushes his wing into your hand as if to bribe you like a child.

He grows impatient, “Do you love him?”

You don’t waver, “No.”

A quick glint in his eye, a sort of relief, and then he finishes what he’s started and kisses you. It’s wrong how right it feels, lonely lips moving in tandem to find comfort in one another. Yoongi leans into it, absolutely devastated by your simple touch. The strength of the wine remains on your lips and he can’t help but lick into the flavor, drunkenly entranced by such luxuries. Yoongi’s hands can’t stay, snaking up your back, caressing your face, dragging his knuckles across your jaw and finally grabbing at the scarf. Carefully, he unwraps it from your neck, slow enough to feel it tickle your shoulder blades, before he folds it respectfully and places it elsewhere.

You sigh, more weight taken off your shoulders than there should be.

“Is this okay?” His voice raspy, speaking into the corner of your mouth. You’re stiff, nodding shyly and lacking the fire you brought up until this point.

He rewords, “Do you want me?” Yoongi feels the need to confirm, waiting for this moment for so long that it seems superficial. Like if he’s not careful, you’ll disappear into another one of his many short-lived dreams.

“Of course I want you, Yoongi. I want you more than anything…” But your eyes flicker to the ground, your lip tucked between your teeth.

“Then what’s wrong, lovely? You don’t have to.”

“No! I want to, I just… I’ve never done this before. I want you so bad but I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing—”

His laughs are light, his hand on the small of your back as he dips you onto the floor. Holding himself above, he plants a soft kiss on your cheek. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you. I want you and we’ll go slow and if you decide you don’t want to anymore, we won’t.”

The way he makes you feel, how gentle he is, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect way for this to happen. It eases you slightly, letting your arms snake around him in an attempt to let your guard down. He’s patient and wonderful and you mumble about it. “Mhm, okay.”

The night robe he’s gifted you now poses a problem, his slender fingers looping through the bow that keeps it wrapped, “Can I?” You nod again, and he unties you like his own present. The feeling of being bare in front of him becomes apparent when he sucks in and the heat from the fire dances against your skin. Other than that, you look to the window to avoid his face.

“My love, look at me.”

His commands are easy to follow but you cover your breasts to hang onto your last bit of pride, granting eye contact at the least.

Face flushed, you can tell he, too, is trying his best. “You’re incredible. More prepossessing than I could have ever imagined. You shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of me.”

“Well,” you retaliate, “it’s hard not to be when I’m the only one naked.”

He grins at the challenge, sitting up to shed his layers, never noticing his garments having to wrap around in a way to accommodate to his wings. You just thought it was just a more ornamental way of dressing that the seraphs took to. He’s left down to tight underwear that hugs him incredibly, beautiful milky skin exposed and tinted with golden light. “Satisfied?” He lilts.

“You look like an angel,” you trace indents of faint abs. Wide shoulders that taper into a tiny waist, a slim build that you could study forever.

He kisses your words away, pushing you into plush comforters and pillows. A makeshift nest unintentionally built for the two of you. A groan rewards him when he licks your bottom lip teasingly, taking your wrists swiftly to pin them above you. “Pretty thing, I don’t have a halo.”

He starts from the top, kissing each inside of wrist before moving down your arm, slithering onto your shoulder, then into the crook of your neck with gentle suckles. Teeth grazes before puncturing, eliciting a yelp from you that satisfies him. He does this over and over, decorating the canvas of your neck.

“I want to burn you into my memory. I don’t ever want to forget this,” he moans with a wake left down until he meets cleavage. His muscles were relentless, impatient and eager, wanting to worship ever square inch of your body as you rightfully deserved. Your squeaks serve his purpose, his muse as he continues his ministrations down.

Out of nowhere, “I don’t want you to leave me, Y/N.” The profession makes you giddy, happy you’re not the only one who feels so. A hidden insecurity acknowledged and lifted.

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Let’s talk about it after?”

“Mmm.”

He reaches your stomach and doesn’t hesitate to nibble there too, flinching when your hand flies to his head and buries itself in his hair. He ditches his current plan to grab your hand and plant a kiss to your palm in a second, making you giggle.

He admits, “I like when you touch me.”

“I want to. I feel so useless letting you do this alone.”

“You’ll get a chance if you’d like later. But right now, it’s all about you.” Husking it out. Of course, the idea sounds blissful, but the scene of having you cum by his actions sound better. “Need to cherish what’s in front of me properly.”

So he dips dangerously, laving at the skin above the hem of your panties and hooking his fingers under the sides, “Please,” he breathes.

“You… can do whatever you’d like to me. I want it all.”

He tugs his lip between his teeth, pulling it down. An unexpected wetness strings between your skin and the cloth and you both see it; him amazed, you horribly mortified. You stutter trying to explain yourself, oblivious that you could even feel as aroused as you do now. But his forehead falls onto the jut of your hipbone and you can hear subtle teasing in his tone. “I-I’m just as nervous and that was so incredibly sexy. I don’t think I can go on, shit.”

You laugh stupidly. “Quiet! Not another word! Just hurry up and—”

That terrible habit of looking away becomes your biggest fault, unprepared for Yoongi to filthily bury his tongue into your heat. He flattens his tongue and tantalizingly drags up until he can just barely flick your clit with the tip. Growling in the process.

“You are so sweet. The sweetest I could ever have. You will be the end of me.” Rushed in panted breaths as he does it again. And again. And again. So much that the growing sound of wet against wet echoes in the empty room and renders you paralyzed.

The feeling of it makes you squeamish, like you want to move, buck your hips, pull his hair. Despite the lewdness of having his rough tongue against you and lapping you clean, you could never ask him to stop.

“You just… keep getting… wetter…” He says between turns. “You really wanted me this much?”

“Yoongi—ah! Please, I can’t. It feels weird.”

“You don’t want me to continue, my love?” He asks lightly, blowing cold air onto damp skin and really forcing you to buck.

“No! I just… I have never felt like this. I want you to but I can’t sit still.”

“Oh? Let me help you then. But you have to let me finish.” So you shyly nod and loosen your legs. He uses the prompt to scoop them underneath his arms and attach the back of your knees atop his shoulders, your hips curving up and towards him in a new, tight position.

“Yoongi!”

“No matter how you feel, just let it happen.”

Sultry wails are music to his ears when he brutally sucks on your clit, licking your folds here and there and using all his strength to keep you in place. He spells out his love with his tongue, digs it into you sweetly. His power, though, anything but kind.

“Uncover your eyes,” he orders deeply.

You whimper, begging for mercy.

“Look. At. Me.”

Unveiling your view, his stare immediately burns into your veins. Looking at you under dangerously slanted lids and that sinful mouth. Holding you in place with strength that could leave prints into your soft legs. With one roll of your clit under his teeth, you feel in ways you never knew how, as if all the pressure that built up in your abdomen suddenly overflowed with a tight burst. Choked sobs and hand gripping his hair enough to make him moan into you, vibrating wonderfully as he works you through it.

He lets you go, remnants of syrupy arousal trickling down his chin; watches your legs fall open widely and your chest heave for air. Your features bring him joy, loving the way your hair sticks to your face with sweat, eyes closed, and brows knit together in concentration. He loved seeing you painted in warm hues and although he was never an artist, he could replicate this scene exactly how it’s displayed in front of him.

“How do you feel, lovely?”

You respond with a weak smile. “You’re so cruel… Min Yoongi.” You felt flimsy; weightless. A feeling you could come to love too much if you aren’t careful.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” slithering back up to rest his head in your neck, giving you more kisses like you haven’t had enough. You’re happy he’s back, massaging your hands over his torso, up his neck, down his spine. And then you hit it and he tenses.

Thick and raised, an area between his wings that softly juts out. It was fairly large and the texture varied from the rest of his beautiful planes of skin. It was a scar. Wide as a dagger.

“I wish it wasn’t there. I know it’s—”

“Yoongi, baby.” You nudge him to lift his head and he does unwillingly, face turned away. “My Yoongi, it’s nothing. What happened was horrible but it’s over. And I will do everything in my power to make it up to you by giving all of me.”

His lips stop you tenderly, a whisper of affection that pours out love, “You didn’t do anything. In fact, you’ve made me better. I wasn’t able to feel anything for a long time until you. So. Thank you.”

Any remaining embarrassment vanishes. Not when Yoongi’s done his part and you would do anything to take care of him.

Sweat molds your bodies together, heat emanating from a fire that’s ablaze now. There’s a private summer in this room while winter continues outside and it feels special to you. It’s hot here, hot when Yoongi scrapes his teeth against yours, hot where his pelvis lays. You take notice to the hard thing twitching against your thigh, making you flinch.

“Ah, I’m sorry. And we’re in A Mood and all.” Yoongi snickers.

“Don’t be,” you purr, feeling a bit lustful and reaching down to grab it through the cloth.

He hisses, “Fuck! Fuck, please, I’m so sensitive at the moment.”

Ignoring him, you unskillfully maneuver your fingers around him. Just touching to be familiarized with it. He surges forward accidentally, sighing in your ear as he shamelessly humps the space between your groin. You use his distracted state to pull his shorts down, the sudden reality of his skin touching yours bringing about sensual noises from the both of you. A sudden spurt of precum makes it easier for him to drag his heavy cock against your hip.

“I’m sorry. It just feels so good.”

“Stop apologizing. I’ll help you.” You stare down as you flick your wrist, encircling him with fingers shaped in an o and pumping him slow.

“Squeeze,” he pleads and you oblige.

“Is it… supposed to be this large?” It’s a stupid question to ask, especially when you’re not entirely clueless. You know his size exceeds average proportions.

“Don’t spoil me. Seraphs have always been larger than humans. Height wise, I was the smallest of my brothers though.” Which seemed unimaginable to you, not when he towers over you and could easily devour you in a hug. Cock hanging low and barely able to keep in your single hand. He must be acting coy.

“Now you’re just bragging!”

“I’m just being honest. I’m automatically pleasing to the likes of you,” he chuckles.

The dampness overflows, smears over your skin in incredible amounts and how you wish you could taste out of pure curiosity, but he has other plans for you.

“I don’t think I can hold myself any longer. Please.”

“That’s… fine. Um, should we? Like this?”

“It’s so hot, could you flip on your side?” You roll and he figures he’s made a mistake. Entranced by the way your weight, breasts and soft curves, naturally gravitate down in a seductive pose.

“Like this?” You ask, unaware that he could simply die right now.

He lifts your leg to rest on his shoulder again, easy to stretch. “Perfect, my love. I’m going to go slow. If it’s too much we can try again another time, okay? No rush.”

Challenged by his kindness, you shake your head, “I’m fine. I’m ready.”

Whatever’s left of the arousal between you both is more than enough to let him enter easily. Head of his member no problem to push past that initial tension.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

But it’s his shaft that makes you keen, entire length seeming endless as he fills you and overloads your maximum space. You cry, nerves making you writhe, “It’s not going to fit all the way—hah…wait.”

Yoongi struggles to hold himself back, perspiration dripping down his nose, “Are you okay? Does it hurt? It doesn’t need to, I’m pretty close to being all the way in anyway.”

“I’m fine,” you pant, head lolled to the side as he stretches you out in an odd, numbing way. “You can… you can move.”

His hips test it, pulling out so little to only be sucked back in with a leveled grunt. “Baby, you’re barely allowing me to.”

“It feels so tight,” you sigh, worried that if you move it’ll really begin to hurt.

“Ah, really? Let’s do this then.” He quick to please, wanting your pleasure before his own and getting you to flip, propped onto your elbows and filled from behind. Smooth chest meets your arched back, him hiding a kiss below your ear while he’s there. A moan aches in your throat as his dick unintentionally digs deeper inside, easier to move and to the hilt.

“Is this better, Y/N?”

“Hah… Yes. Yes, so much better. So good. Please move.”

His hips roll, just enough to grind into you which feels nothing but euphoric in itself. You mimic each other’s lusty whimpers with every movement. Caving into each other’s kisses and licks and pants that you feel synchronized.

Yoongi grows impatient with himself, exaggerating how he pulls out and slams himself back inside. The mere force that he fucks into you sends you forward, opting to lay on your chest and bite the blankets beneath you to keep from screaming. “You feel so good. So, so good. I’m sorry it hasn’t been long, but I feel like…”

His wings fall at his sides and cover you in shadow. It’s weird to see them like this, in a way you could imagine the perspective of having them yourself. But it covers you in unnecessary warmth and makes you grunt.

“It’s hot,” you admit with a quick breath, “Let me on top. I’ll finish.”

The way his member slides out; the way it leaves you tensing over nothing is a sad, needy feeling. You don’t slow at the chance to lay him down and take control, straddling him and watching his face contort in loving awe.

Sitting on him is an entirely different feeling and Yoongi keeps himself from cumming inside you right away, a choke in his throat. “Fuck, fuckfuckfcuk. Y/N, I won’t last like this for long please—”

“I’ll make it quick.” You lean over him, palms to the ground as you start moving, grinding and using him to your advantage. The nerves start again and you shake with pleasure.

“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi!”

Slender fingers dig into your velvety hips as he forces himself into you with harsh, quick jabs. “Baby, I have to cum.” He smooths his knuckles over your cheek, pulling you down into a tongue heavy-kiss in an impossibly fiery caress.

The ramming he enforces take incoherent sobs from your lips. You feel a ghost of a smile, sure Yoongi is enjoying your shameless display of indulgence; coming undone before his very eyes.

You arch into him, clenching tighter and falling onto his chest. With impeccable timing he pulls out, strings of hot white flooding between your stomachs.

“A lot,” you complain.

“Mmm. Because I’ve been waiting so long to have you.”

Without the pressure of moving, you lay on him despite the humidity. Petting the underside of his wings as they drape so gracefully against the blankets and the rug.

“Yoongi?”

“Yes?”

“I need to go home tomorrow.”

His heart sinks, “Oh?”

“To see my family. To come home and let them know I’m okay.”

“Yes, of course.” He’s afraid that you won’t come back, though.

“And… to turn down Taehyung’s proposal in person.”

Yoongi looks down and can’t see your face but he’s imagined it’s worried. “Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah. And Yoongi?”

He waits. You speak again, “Do you really want to be with me? For me to stay?”

“More than anything.”

He feels the tug of your cheeks on his chest; a wide smile.

“Then I’ll need to get my stuff.” And that makes him want to cry. After traumatic betrayal and years of loathing his punishment of isolation, he’s finally being let out of his cage. Free to be with someone that cares for him as much as he cares for you.

Your last thoughts remain on the fire and how it’s the only other entity to to swallow your talks, plans and confessions. Of his feathers like his arms as they fold in comfortably next to you, feeling like they’re meant to be there. Like you really were fated to be skin-to-skin with this man in his manor. Entwined by trust and love and an unprecedented future that would be everything as long as he’s in it. An irony of a useless girl and flightless wings.

Yoongi watches you fall under, wiping his thumb over your lips, trailing it down your chin and covering your naked body with his wing. Slumber finds him soon after, mind stuck on his self-epiphany that he had to lose his wings to gain you, and how incredibly lucky he is to have it that way.

a/n: ahAhaA, i’m sorry. please feel free to let me know what you think.

❋ masterlist ❋

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bangtanlalaland · 4 years

Text

whoa | kth ft. jjk (m.)

synopsis ↳a bet between you and the infamous skater in town: kim taehyung, is made to get him off of your back once and for all. but the turn of events takes you by surprise, making you feel like whoa!

→part of the bring it back collection!

— 1970’s!au

→pairing: rollerskater!kim taehyung x high school student!female reader ↳featuring: coworker!jeon jungkook

→genre: smut, pwp, crack (highkey this time)

→word count: 4.7k+

→contents ⨯ warnings: basically just a bunch of horny students exploring themselves (yes, everyone in this fic is of legal age ok plz don’t come after me), tae is a total dom with a big dick (IDC what anyone says!! TAE’S cock IS HUGE. he literally RADIATES BDE. don’t @ me), JK is such a dork (what a fucking bunny), also: subby JK, a hint of comedy (more like MC’s insulting each other), just filthy bathroom oral sex (f + m receiving), threesome, some TAEKOOK action (yes, i said it) deepthroating, breathplay, squirting, fingering, pussy/ass slapping, cum swallowing, snowballing (oops)

a/n: srsly this is PORN!!! just another SLUTTY & unedited smut fic with -0.0000% plot & SO rushed just because I’m a SLUT for BANGTAN & I’m so COCKHUNGRY for these BEASTS & I’M NOT ashamed!! (plz SEND HELP) FORGIVE ME.

song rec: “whoa” by snoh aalegra

Ugh.

How much you hate him is beyond words. He always stumbles in the local skating rink you work at, flashing that cheesy, boxy grin of his at all the cooing gals around town. Especially on the weekends, when you work. With it being your last year of high school (finally), you’re an 18 year old, (soon to be graduate) within a month, and you’d decided to pick up a part-time job for some cash to purchase your prom dress when the time comes. Sadly, your job only pays you $2.50/hr to deal with Taehyung Kim’s dumb shit. He’s always showing off in the rink, shooting those dumb finger guns, paired with a wink, at the dense gals out on the floor — constantly performing exaggerated spins and backwards skating techniques.

So lame.

Not just that, but the idiot always staggers into the rink sporting some fancy looking, silky blouse with aviator sunglasses, creased slacks, and those dumb strands he styles into a mullet. Who dresses like that anyway? Surely not anyone within your age bracket. He never even bothers to rent the rollerskates you guys have, always bringing his own pair (the gold ones, yes ew. gold. what an old man) — clearly a cheap fucker.

Can’t stand it.

Not just his promiscuous tendencies, but you’re about one more “Hey Toots,” away from clocking out of your shift forever. Yet, here you are again. Working the closing shift. On a Saturday.

Your figure slumped over on the counter, nearby the numerous rows of roller skates behind you. You deliberately chew your Dubble Bubble gum, a large bubble forming from your mouth with much force from your lungs.

Pop.

Your coworker, Jungkook, arrives with a gum scraper in hand looking dorky as usual.

“Alright, that one family with like a dozen kids just left. And fuck have I had my daily dose of gum scraping for today!”

You’re not even sure why Jungkook is within your perimeter, considering that he’s in charge of working at the Snack Zone section of the skating rink. He who is also an annoying brat — forever complaining about kids spilling mountains of their popcorn everywhere or teenagers manhandling the arcade joystick games, which causes for a call to schedule the maintenance guy, in hopes he’d come to the rescue. Or even worse, when children have too much to eat and their undigested meal ends up somewhere out on the floor or inside the rink. Which in return results in parents threatening to have you all fired, because as you quote one time a customer shouted: “You’re all nothing but a buncha lazy, no-good-for-shits!”

But hey, you both work at a skating rink. What else could he expect?

Jungkook pauses, noticing your attention elsewhere, and he follows your line of vision. All eyes on Taehyung.

Just look at him. All flirty and dumb-looking.

“Geez. Why don’t you just go ahead and suck his dick while you’re at it?” Jungkook yells over the blaring music of The Bee Gees now playing on the wanky stereo of the establishment.

Your attention draws quickly to the idiot standing next to you, your eyebrows furrowing in response. You take the opportunity to pinch him on his arm.

“Ow! What the hell?!” He screeches, rubbing the area you’d attacked, paired with a pout of his lips.

Turning around with your back facing the counter, you retort, “Spare me! Besides, I wouldn’t suck Taehyung’s dick even if he were the last man on Earth and my life depended on giving blowjobs. And I mean it!”

Jungkook takes a thick gulp. The shocked, deer-like expression on his face persuading you to turn your gaze where his eyes meet, and sure enough there was Taehyung Kim. His elbows bent and leaned over the counter, tipping his stupid sunglasses down onto his nose — eyeing you up and down with that stupid smirk he always dishes out.

“Hey Toots,” He slips, with his deep-baritone voice and a wiggle of his eyebrows that causes you to cringe — fists and teeth clenching in reply.

“What do you want, Taehyung?” You ask with a hint of attitude in your tone. Your arms folding in response to his usual tactic, having grown used to it by now. Noticing your uptight form, he lifts from the counter and straightens up, blowing a whistle with his lips in an “o” shape.

“Feisty,” he adds, his tongue peeks out to glide across his bottom lip. You take note of the action, feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

“I like it.” You’d hope your cheeks didn’t give away your sudden embarrassment at his comment. An awkward silence falls upon you both, all while he conceals his deep stare onto you from behind those glasses. Your eyes narrowing in on the male’s form in front of you. Jungkook suddenly clears his throat, capturing both of yours attention.

“What the hell was that?” You roll your eyes so hard, you’re sure you’ll have a headache in three… two… one…

“What’s gotten you so ‘worked up’ today, hm?” He emphasizes the worked up part, as if he knows you so well. His form leaning against the counter again, a failed attempt to get closer to you. Your gaze turns toward him with a dissatisfied expression, immediately jerking your head back.

“As if! Why are you even here? Don’t you have anywhere else to be? Like, like-” You scan your surroundings attempting to find anything that’ll persuade Taehyung to leave.

Bingo.

To your left, near the lockers, a group of blondes giggling and cooing over the idiot talking to you.

“Like with them! They are totally checking you out.” You emphasize with your eyebrows, and Taehyung follows your eyesight, also taking note of said girls. He tips his sunglasses and winks at them all, resulting in screeches and more coos from them. You cringe at the sight of it, wishing you had your attention set elsewhere.

“See? You should just go over there. They’re literally calling your name,” You probe in hopes he’d just leave you the hell alone. The aura of his stroked ego on the verge of suffocating you if he stays even a minute longer.

He hesitates.

“Hmm… Don’t really feel like it.” His gaze turns to you yet again.

You’re seething. You can’t even believe the audacity of him right now.

“Besides…” He continues, leaning further in to meet your eyes.

“A little birdie somewhere told me that,” he runs his fingers through his mullet, “A feisty thing wouldn’t give this stud a blowjob, even if its life depended on it.” Your cheeks are on fire at this point, but you don’t give in. You refuse to be patronized by the whore himself. Just as you were about to retaliate with a damn good comeback, Jungkook rudely interrupts.

“If I were “birdie,” I’d say “it” is lying.” Your gaze snaps toward him with furrowed eyebrows. He holds his hands up, as if surrendering to your harsh gaze. Taehyung grins that dumb, boxy smile of his.

“You’re not helping, Jungkook!” You roll your eyes at him and focus on the cocky eldest.

Taking a deep breath, you slip, “That’s right. It won’t give you the time of day to suck your dick. Besides, you wouldn’t even last for a good 5 minutes.” He scoffs, impressed by your assumption. But also intrigued at your “play hard to get” persona. He contemplates if he should test the waters, his hormones taking the wheel.

“Well,” He begins, cheeks hurting from the wide grin shown on his face. You watch in disgust as he continues, “Why won’t it make a bet then, huh?”

“Pshhh, are you kidding? For what? And what’s in it for it?” Your arms crossing in your stance. His fingers tap against the glass, display counter, as if he’s thinking. His gold rings shining in the ambience.

“If it can make me cum in 5 minutes-” You cut him off instantly.

“Then you will leave it alone forever!” He nods slowly in response, somewhat hesitant.

“Okay… And if it can’t make me cum in 5 minutes, then I get to stay. As I please.” Taehyung grins, extending his hand out. You follow his motion, interlocking your hand with his.

“Tonight. It does this tonight, after closing. Deal?” You demand, Taehyung replies: “Deal.”

Great. Jungkook’s sudden, overly absurd slurping from his Slurpee cup cues his presence is still here. Some part of you ponders how his beverage suddenly appeared.

“Kook, why don’t you help us?” You ask, having thought of an idea.

The slurping abruptly stops. He stares between the two of you with those doe-like eyes, clearly dumbfounded. Taehyung’s eyebrows rise up, obviously he’s amused.

“Woah there, Toots. Didn’t know you were that kinky-”

Your palm finds its way up, cutting him off, “Please,” you retort. You turn your gaze to Jungkook who’s awaiting your appraisal.

“Do you still have that stopwatch your grandfather gave you?”

With wide eyes and his lips still wrapped around his straw, he shakes his head in a “yes” gesture.

“Good,” You smirk. Although you hate Taehyung with all your guts, you refuse to miss out on this opportunity. Once and for all, you want him to vanish from your sight. To be gone and not bother you anymore. And if it means you have to get on your knees and get to work, then why not? At least, he’ll be gone from your life just as you wished.

Next thing you know, you’re on your knees, in the girls bathroom, with Taehyung towering above you, his arms crossed, lips quirked, and bulge slightly poking within his slacks. He leans on the wall, having placed his sunglasses in the middle split of his blouse. You take a thick gulp, attempting to ease the dryness in your throat.

“I’m waiting, Toots.” He coos with that smirk on his face.

Fuck.

How did you get yourself in this situation?

“Now, Kook!” You command the youngest who stands outside of the bathroom door. His thumb pressing the top, start button on the stopwatch to begin the time. Inside, you quickly unbuckle Taehyung’s belt. He helps to unloosen his trousers, dropping them to the ground in one swift. His tight, bright green briefs on full display, showcasing his slender legs. You can clearly see the outline of his cock, which sends a surge of something straight to your core. Your fingers find placement on the band of his briefs, pulling them down past his knees. His lengthy, member sneaks out — semi-hard. You lick your lips while wrapping your fingers around him, preparing to devour his lower half. You can’t believe you’re about to suck Taehyung’s dick. Seriously, why were you even born in this generation?

“4 minutes!” Jungkook warns, eyes glued to the ticking time.

Shit.

You take that as a cue to lick one stripe from Taehyung’s balls to the tip of his cock. He groans in response, head falling back at the feel of your warm, wet tongue painting your saliva onto his member. You continue licking along his shaft, stopping at the head and making sure to wrap your lips around him there. He loves when you do that, and you know this because he hisses, his cock now fully erect, and you adore how thick and long he is. You faintly taste the salty flavor of the precum that seeps from his slit. His hand snakes onto your hair, grasping your head to guide you further down his cock. He relentlessly bucks forward, desperate to journey himself further down your throat. Completely caught off guard, you grab ahold of his thighs and give in to Taehyung fucking your throat.

“Ahh, fuck!” He slips, glaring down at you gagging on his cock. His eyes shut instantly, a hidden attempt at not trying to cum so quickly.  

“3 minutes!”

Jungkook’s warning fuels Taehyung to slow his motions, not wanting to make himself cum yet, courtesy of the bet. But it feels nostalgic for him. The other part of him doesn’t want to stop, not having control of his hips thrusting in and out of your mouth. Your saliva drenches his cock and drips down to his balls, your eyes close naturally to focus on not dying from choking on him. Your nails dig into his flesh and graze along his thighs, somewhat a warning that you need to come up for air. But he wants..

Needs a release.

“That’s right, sweet thing. Don’t stop.” The fact you’re on your knees, submitting and literally choking on this idiot’s dick sends an odd sentiment to your core yet again. Maybe it’s just your hormones? Because you still hate him.

Oh, how much you hate him.

But, Taehyung aches to cum all over your face, to release himself into your mouth or wherever you please just so he can rid that pang deep within his groin. You scratch faster, leaving behind trails of your markings, you feel like you’re on the verge of passing out if you’re not let up. You force Taehyung’s thighs with a push, and you’re finally released from his grip on your hair and his cock in your mouth. You fall back, gasping for air and coughing as your chest heaves and tears stream down your cheeks.

“What are you trying to kill me or what?” You retort, wiping your eyes and gazing up at his lanky figure, gradually gaining your breathing pattern back to normal.

“2 minutes!” Taehyung heaves, his chest rising and falling. You take a moment to regather yourself and bring your thoughts together to continue.

“Fuck,” Taehyung slips, while taking a deep breath. You inch toward him, wrapping your fingers around him to pump his shaft a few times. Strands of Taehyung’s hair stick to his forehead, a result from perspiring, he snakes his hand into your hair, petting you softly as if you’re a cat. Your remaining hand lands on top of his thigh, feeling them flinch slightly as you encase your lips encase around the head of his cock, closing in on the flesh and sucking harshly. Your tongue glides around the mushroom-shaped tip, spreading your saliva all around and teasing his slit. He flinches again, clearly turned on and on the verge of an orgasm. You hurry yourself with one goal:

Make Taehyung Kim cum.

You relax yourself and ease him further and further down your throat, but this time you force your eyes to remain open. His length rubs against the flesh of your mouth, your tongue gliding under his shaft. You continue to keep your eyes focused on his, almost as if you’re staring into his soul. Tears prick from your eyes, liquid forming past your lids yet.

Keep watching him.

“1 minute!”

It’s almost as if that sudden warning sparked something in you, persuading you to instantly make Taehyung cum. Your tongue finds its path down to his balls, sucking them softly and caressing them ever so gently. You glide your tongue back onto him and gag on his cock yet again, thrusting your mouth back and forth repeatedly. He moans and groans, thighs suddenly trembling as his hand pushes harsher on your head; he fucks himself back into your mouth. Taehyung had always liked teasing and bothering you. He admired how annoyed and flustered you get around him, which gave him all the more reason he’s in “la la land” by having your mouth filled with him entirely. He’s convinced it’s probably the only way he could get you to shut up. Unfortunately, on your end, it’s the opposite. Taehyung still won’t shut his mouth. In fact, it’s open right now. And your name (yes, your actual name) falls from his lips. And not just once, or twice, but numerous times.

“Fuck! I-I’m going to-” He can’t finish his sentence, but you’re aware of his warning, a coy smirk appearing on your face. His fingers wrap around himself as he pumps furiously, his grip on your head still present as he aims straight into your mouth. His erect cock stiffens itself and the sudden rush of an orgasm washes over him entirely. His thighs tremble as his cum shoots rapidly down your throat, in streams of white.

“Alright time’s up, guys!” Jungkook cues. He awaits the arrival of you both from the bathroom. After a few beats and…

Nothing.

“Guys?”

He presses his ear against the cold, metal of the door and hears faint sounds of moaning. He double checks the time on the stopwatch, surely he wasn’t off. But being the curious dork he is, Jungkook decides to push open the door. As he rounds the corner, to his right, he finds your figure leaned against the wall with Taehyung buried between your legs. He makes out the shape of Taehyung’s head moving left and right furiously, clearly he was eating you out. Jungkook’s mouth gapes open and eyes widen at the sight. Your now audible moans rushing through his eardrums, shooting straight to his cock. Taehyung’s obscene slurping on your pussy echoes throughout the ambience. Almost like a gravitational pull, Jungkook treads slowly toward the two of you.

“Always wanted to eat this little pussy of yours.” He pauses, his fingers run along your folds, he stops at your clit to give you a harsh slap, making your thighs tremble in response. He wraps his lips around your clit again, rolls his tongue around the bud and continues in between breaths, “I see the way you always watch me out on the rink. Bet you couldn’t wait for an opportunity like this.”

Your eyes shut instantly, hips bucking forward against Taehyung’s tongue. He glides along your folds and dips his tongue inside you, fucking you with the muscle. Your fingers trail into his loose strands, grazing his scalp as your thighs tremble slightly due to his actions. Your eyes peer open at the sight of Jungkook watching you both like a peeping Tom. You giggle at the sight of his “deer in headlights” expression. Taehyung laps at your clit, and wraps his lips around the bud, sucking harshly as you did with the head of his cock earlier.

“Ungh, mmm Taehyung,” you moan in between breaths, feeling the approach of your orgasm deep within your gut. He peers up into your gaze, relishing in your fucked out expression as he sucks your clit. Jungkook rubs the impending boner that’s hidden behind the fabric of his work jeans. Taehyung pulls away and takes note of Jungkook’s aching tension. You whimper at the loss of his slick tongue.

“What are you doing- Fucking idiot! Why’d you stop?!” You whine like a little child, with a pout of your lips. Taehyung gestures a “come here” motion to Jungkook.

The youngest hesitates for a moment, silently contemplating what the hell is going on but the desperate heat boiling inside of him cries for a release.

“Have a taste, Kookie.” Taehyung eases Jungkooks shoulders down to kneel along with him, his frontal set at an eye-level view of your pussy — that glistens of your juices mixed with Taehyung’s saliva. Jungkook peers up at the elder, and Taehyung winks back while sneaking his hand on the back of Jungkook’s head, forcing him to feast on your cunt. Kook’s hands fall onto the wall behind you, attempting to keep some leverage due to the sudden action. His nose is met nuzzling your clit while his lips suck on your soaked pussy lips.

Taehyung hisses, his hand applying more pressure.

“That’s right, Kookie. Eat her up.”

Jungkook moans in response, having no choice but to take you into his mouth and follow Tae’s demands. His tongue darts out, slithering along your folds, and the vibration from his moaning courses through you. Your hand finds its way into his chocolate strands, pulling and tugging while he eats you as if he’d been starved the entire day, which to you partly doesn’t make sense since he’s in charge of the Snack Zone.

“Oh, fuck! J-Jungkook, ahh!” Your head falls against the wall behind you, the coil in the pit of your tummy on the verge of cumming, that is, when you feel an odd slight tinge of something cold paired with someones finger inserting your cunt. You lift your gaze down to find Taehyung has slipped one of his ring-covered fingers inside of you. He taps your inner thigh to motion your legs to spread further apart, and you follow suit. Jungkook watches in eagerness, grazing his nails up and down your thighs. He takes initiative to lick your clit while Tae fingers you relentlessly.

“Want you to cum for us.” Taehyung eases a second finger and rams back and forth repeatedly, hitting that spot within your walls that has you finally tipping over the edge, combined with Jungkook’s small, pouty-like lips wrapped around your clit and sucking on for dear life. With his opposite hand, Taehyung grips your ass cheek and lands a harsh smack onto your bottom.

“Fucking cum for us, Toots.” In an instant, a shockwave of pleasure immerses within you, your body begins trembling of your orgasm. Your moans turn into an inaudible scream, and suddenly gushes of your arousal sprinkle all over Tae’s and Kook’s clothes and just a tad on their faces. The liquid flows down your thighs, the remaining dripping onto the floor of the restroom. Jungkook takes you by surprise, as he licks up your juices that continue down your legs. You shudder in response, Taehyung follows and licks your other leg, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs.

Jungkook pulls away, taking a deep breath, “Fuck, that was hot.” You notice the tent that’s grown within Jungkook’s jeans, your pussy throbs at the sight. And then by surprise, Taehyung runs his hand over the bulge, pressing into Jungkook’s clothed erection, his eyes widen at the sudden contact.

“What? Think I don’t notice you either, Kookie?” Your mouth flies open at the sight. Taehyung presses his lips to Jungkook’s, his tongue easing into his mouth instantly. Jungkook moans within the kiss, his hands finding their way into Tae’s mullet. The lewd sounds of their lips smacking draws you in further, also wanting a taste. As if he’d read your mind, Taehyung breaks the kiss, noticing your reaction.

“Aw, somebody is feeling left out hm?” His hand laces with yours, pulling you closer to them both. He pushes the back of you and Jungkook’s heads to have your lips meet together. He sets on his knees to unbutton Jungkook’s jeans, while you pull away from the kiss to join Taehyung, giving him a quick few pecks of your own. Jungkook watches in amusement, his cock rock hard and leaking within his briefs. Taehyung takes the lead and unbuttons Jungkook’s jeans, pulling the zipper down. You aid in the removal of his pants, pulling them all the way down past his knees, and you marvel at Jungkook’s toned thighs.

“Whoa, Kook,” You smooth your hands along his thighs, his soft, supple skin feels like silk under your fingertips. He blushes at your compliment.

“You like?” He teases, flexing his muscles. You tease back, kissing his obvious bulge through his briefs. He sucks his teeth, rutting forward. Taehyung rubs him before pulling the band of his underwear all the way down and….

Plop.

Jungkook’s cock springs up, with a thin line of precum leaking from the rosy-shade tinted, tip.

“Fuck,” Taehyung slips, licking his lips.

You also lick your lips at the sight. Before you could even think to touch him, Taehyung grasps his length, stroking in a slow manner. Jungkook’s moan that slips, and you take that as a sign to kiss along his thighs. Taehyung continues to stroke, admiring the thick vein that protrudes along his shaft. You grasp Jungkook’s ass cheek, gripping and rubbing the firm tissue.

Slap.

“Ungh!”

Holy shit, he likes it.

Slap.

He moans again, biting his lower lip. And…

His lips part in a hurry, paired with furrowed brows. You know he’s going to moan again, his chest suddenly pauses from breathing. You look to your left and Tae has his tongue swirling around the head of Jungkook’s dick. He pulls away and teases with another kitten lick.

Finally…

He wraps his gorgeous lips around the tip, and the euphoric tone of Jungkook’s deep, breathy moan fills your ears like a melody.

“Oh, fuck. Mmm- fuck.”

Jungkook’s head falls back with his eyes shut. Taehyung takes his thick, throbbing member down his throat. He uses his free hand to grab Kook’s other ass cheek, granting a harsh smack just as he did with you. You note Jungkook’s adam’s apple bobbing as he gasps for air, thrusting himself into Tae’s mouth. You never knew a neck could look so hot, combined with his sharp jawline being a killer. Some sick part of you wants to see that asshole Tae choke on Jungkook. So, you find yourself pushing the back of his head, pressing him further down his length. The gag sound that emits from Taehyung’s throat makes your core quiver. His spit draws out, soaking Kook’s member.

“That’s right, fucking take it,” You coo, cherishing the act of these two idiots pleasing themselves. Taehyung hums, the vibrations sending a wave of sensations through Jungkook.

“Ah, fuck- Keep- Doing that, you’re going to make me cum so fast!”

Your grip pulls Tae by his strands, forcing him off. Now panting for his breath, he wipes the wet residue from his mouth. Now it’s your turn. Your lips wrap around Kook’s thickness, loving the warmth of Tae’s saliva already having coated him. Just as you did, Taehyung pushes you further in, making you choke slightly. You relax your throat, taking Jungkook all the way in, who you can’t understand how his cock manages to fit in you, considering how thick he is. Jungkook focuses on you with wide eyes, appreciating your form taking him all the way in.

You pull away with a pop and grip his member, stroking him with one hand while licking from his balls to the underside of his shaft. Taehyung joins you to suck his balls, and you both take turns teasing Kook’s head. Jungkook’s fingers find their place on the top of your heads, guiding you and Taehyung, as both of your tongues glide along each side of his shaft. His thighs begin contracting, an indication that his orgasm is approaching. His gaped mouth serving as evidence.

“Cum in our mouths, Kookie.” You and Taehyung open up, your tongues and throats on full display.

“I-I, fuck. I’m cumming.”

With his eyes shut, Jungkook grips whoever’s hair he can, jerking himself off. Spurts of his yummy cum streams into your mouth, coating your tongue with an undetectable flavor. He lets out a shuddering moan, his lower abdomen contracting as his orgasm takes him over. You hold his cum in your mouth, closing it shut. Taehyung has his mouth open and it’s almost as if you both can read each other’s minds. You peer over and open your mouth over Tae’s, releasing the lewd mixture of your saliva paired with Jungkook’s cum.

Taehyung moans at the sentiment, holding for a brief moment to add his own fluid to the concoction. He stands on his two feet, and Jungkook watches with an exhausted look in his eyes, somewhat curious of his next actions. Taehyung rises his eyebrows, as if a silent demand to open. Jungkook stills for a moment and catches on quicker than you thought. With the difference in height, he squats a little and reveals his throat to the eldest. Taehyung leans down and closed their lips, releasing the substance of your fluids, his fluids, and the youngest’s cum.

Jungkook seals his mouth shut.

“Swallow it.” Taehyung demands with a stern tone, his voice somewhat raspy and also fucked out but still deep as usual. Kookie makes no choice but to obey, like the good little, boy he is.

He takes a thick gulp — the mixed secretions now having flushed through and inside him.

“Good,” Tae expresses.

“Whoa,” You add, dazing into a daydream and slightly drained from tonight’s ventures.

The three of you remain in silence, an awkward tension filling up the space. Jungkook seems to have noticed, having pulled his garments back on as if signaling his departure. Then, the reminder that you can’t find your panties dawns on you. Clearly, Tae took them and probably has them stuffed in his stupid slacks. But before stepping out, Kook breaks the silence.

“So much for a bet, right?” He blurts out with a slick smirk.

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