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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

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The Island | KTH (Ten)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, public fingering, slow sex in the form of a flashback, making out, dirty talk, oral (male rec.)

Notes: Here’s chapter 10:) Next chapter is the chapter most of you are really anticipating hahah sorry it isn’t this one! But I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr @siredsong

Previous---Next

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Being really fucking nervous is actually the understatement of the century. You wish there was a better word to describe how you feel. Afraid, concerned, on edge, hesitant, jittery, jumpy, shy, tense, uneasy…you get the point. Meeting Taehyung’s parents is already a nerve wracking experience but in this situation it is even worse—you are the reason their son went into a major fucking depression for 6 months.

Taehyung has a big smile on his face though…he looks genuinely excited and not the least bit concerned. You on the other hand feel sick to your stomach, you feel like you have to gulp down literal puke every five minutes…or maybe every five seconds. Your hands are pooling with a gross amount of sweat and your stomach keeps twisting and turning.

“And my mom makes little sandwiches for us, like all the time.” Taehyung grins, he squeezes your hand in his as you two approach his parents’ house. “You ready?”

You feel the anxiety build, making you nauseas all over again.

“Sure.” You swallow down your nerves, looking up at Taehyung with worried eyes. His smile begins to fade as he observes you, he exhales a deep breath and lets go of your hand.

“Try to relax.” His hand goes to your hair, his fingers playing with it. “I wouldn’t bring you here if I thought it was going to go all wrong.” He says softly. “You have to trust me, remember?”

“Right…” you nod your head slowly. “You wouldn’t bring me to a place that people would hate me, right…” you wipe your hands on your jeans.

“y/n…” Taehyung reaches for your hand again, he intertwines his fingers with yours. “They don’t blame you.” He says under his breath. “I’m a grown ass man, I let myself go. Not you.”

“You can’t really be that naïve, Taehyung?” You breathe out, “At least one person blames me, that knows that I didn’t reach out to you—”

“I said to trust me, didn’t I?” Taehyung snaps, but he keeps his voice low. “I talked to my parents about bringing you over and they want to meet the girl from the photos. They rooted for us the entire time.” He tries to offer you a smile but you keep the frown that pulls down your lips.

“Why would they root for us…they don’t even know me.” You say quietly and Taehyung suddenly pulls you close, hugging you.

“Because they saw how happy we looked together. You saw the photos, right? You have to admit we make a cute couple.” He teases, holding you close.

“C-Couple…are we a couple?” you pull away from him slightly, you look into his dark eyes and give him a look that urges him to answer you.

“You’re asking if I’m like, your boyfriend?” he tilts his head, then he is pulling you back in, hugging you tightly. “I guess we really haven’t had that discussion yet.”

“Taehyung—”

“I want you to be my girlfriend. Will you?” He speaks lowly, his baritone voice vibrating his chest as your head is pushed up against it. “Can I introduce you as my girlfriend?” he sort of repeats and you feel your heart skip a beat—several in fact.

“You…you want me to be your girlfriend? But you won’t even kiss me?” you mumble into his chest.

Taehyung sighs out, he’s tired. Really tired of this same conversation. But he tries to be understanding of you and holds you even tighter.

“Remember we are taking it slow,” he reminds you. “But I’m yours. And you’re mine. So of course we are a couple. I’m your boyfriend…you’re my girlfriend.” He spells it out for you, “And that’s how we will introduce the other.”

You pull back from Taehyung and look into his eyes, his dark, beautiful eyes. You take a moment to let your eyes linger on his. They’re brown. But so much prettier than any other brown you’ve seen, they’re deeper. Like they hold so much mystery. You see the season of Autumn in his eyes. Like summer just ended, like the warmth of the sun still lingers. They’re the kind of eyes you can get lost in. Like you are doing right now.

“I’ll be your girlfriend.” You mumble shyly and Taehyung’s hands find your waist.

“You’re cute.” He states, “Too cute for me.” He squeezes your waist and you slowly close your eyes at how good it feels to have his hands on you.

“Don’t do that.” Taehyung warns. “I know that look.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You say with your eyes still closed, his hands now lowering themselves to your hips.

“I know what you look like when you want to get fucked y/n.” he starts to massage your hips and you can’t help but let a small, small moan leave your lips.

“Fuck…” Taehyung releases a shaky breath as he watches you get worked up. “Will this relax you?” he asks, his voice low. “If I get you off?”

“W-What do you mean?” your eyes shoot open, “We’re outside your parents’ house.”

“And?” he raises a brow, his hand going to the button of your jeans, he unbuttons it with one hand. “There’s hardly anyone around here.” He slides down the zipper and you begin to frantically shake your head, trying to stop him. But you fail miserably. Apparently shaking your head wasn’t enough.

“Tae…there’s people walking.”

“Barely.” He looks around his surroundings. “You’re going to come all over my fingers, okay?”

Your eyes dart all around you but he’s right, the people are kind of far and not paying attention to you.

“Okay…” you agree breathlessly. Taehyung slips his long fingers into your pants, sliding beneath your panties and going straight for where your needy ass self wants him most. With his free hand, Taehyung pushes you against the gate of his parents’ house and covers you with his body. His fingers find your clit and he starts to rub slowly, trying to get you wetter. This goes on a for a minute or two before you are soaking his fingers in your juices then he is rubbing a bit faster, making your knees buckle.

“Ah, Taehyung…” you moan out quietly. “Stay on my clit, I can come like this.” You let him know softly, your words coming out broken as you try to breathe normally.

“Okay babe.” He circles his fingers around your clit, rubbing over and over until you’re whimpering. Your eyes shoot open though when you remember you’re in public, your eyes scan the area and when you see you are alone you slam them shut and let out a longer moan.

“Be a little quieter.” Taehyung chuckles, “Don’t want my parents to come out wondering what’s going on, now do we?” he teases you, his fingers working on your bundle of nerves faster now, with added pressure making your orgasm announce its arrival.

“I’m going to—I’m going to come.” Your head falls onto his chest, and with his other hand he reaches up for the back of your head and begins massaging your scalp.

“Come for me baby. Want you nice and relaxed.”

You’re so, so close when you notice a couple of women walking past, you try so hard to keep your orgasm at bay until they leave but being in this situation somehow pushes you over the edge. You bite down on Taehyung’s shoulder as you try to stay quiet as you come all over his fingers.

“Good, good.” He rubs your back, “Relax, relax.”

You try to calm your unsteady breaths as you recover from your high, his sticky fingers leaving your heat as he pulls them out of your pants. He immediately pushes his fingers past your panting lips and orders you to lick him clean.

“Now.” He says, waiting to feel your tongue clean him up.

Then you are buttoning your jeans back up and smoothing down your clothes and your hair. You look up at Taehyung and he grins down at you.

“Feeling better?” he asks, “By the way, the answer better be yes.” His fingers tilt your head up by the jaw, urging you to look at him more properly.

“Yes.” You say truthfully. “I just need a moment to catch my breath then we can go inside.”

“Of course.”

Taehyung’s parent’s house is really, really nice. Well, as far as you can tell from the outside…you two are standing outside the front door waiting to get let in. You feel your nerves come back to haunt you, making you feel nauseas all over again. Before you can get too into your head, the front door is swinging open and a beautiful woman is widening her eyes at you, then she is yelling behind her in Korean and man is rushing to the door. Taehyung’s parents.

“Ummmm…” You start gathering your courage to speak to them. “Hello. My name is y/n. Nice to meet you.” You say in your broken Korean. Taehyung whips his head in your direction and looks pleasantly shocked. A wide smile makes its way on his face as he watches you trying to communicate with his parents.

“She even speaks Korean!” Taehyung’s mother claps her hands excitedly, but you literally have no idea what she said. You only know a few things, like asking where the bathroom is, random animals and colors and saying hello and goodbye. You awkwardly nod your head though and Taehyung begins explaining to them that you in fact, do not know Korean.

“Oh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Mrs. Kim brings her hand to her mouth as she tries to hide her growing smile. “We speak a little English…but we understand more than we speak…” she admits shyly and you can’t help but nod with a small smile.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You say, holding out your hand but she walks closer and pulls you in for a hug instead. “Thank you.” Mrs. Kim mumbles in your shoulder. “Just…thank you. Thank you for coming here…”

“Mom…” Taehyung drags out in a whine.

You feel a pang in your chest once you realize what his mother means…she’s not mad at you? But rather grateful that you finally came? This makes the guilt you previously felt worsen.

“Come in, come in!” Mr. Kim chimes, “Dinner should be ready soon.”

“y/n can help me?” His mom pulls away from you, her hands still on your arms. “Right?” She asks with a sweet smile. You nod your head and follow her inside. Taehyung grins as he watches you two walk away towards the kitchen, his dad smiles knowingly towards him and pats him on the back.

“We’re making bulgogi.” She says happily, “Have you had before?” she takes the marinated meat and starts placing pieces of meat inside the pan.

“Yes, but probably not as good at yours.” You smile. Mrs. Kim nods her head like she agrees with you then hands you the tongs to place the meat in the pan yourself.

“I am really happy…” Mrs. Kim watches you cook the meat, “And very grateful. Taehyung missed you so much…it was hard seeing him so sad.”

You take a deep breath…you probably should have guessed this conversation was coming.

“But he had the courage to go find you!” She claps her hands, “We raised him nicely, didn’t we?”

“I’m sorry…” you gulp, “I—”

“No, no. Taehyung explained everything. You had the courage to come here in the end, didn’t you? Your parents must have raised you nicely as well.” She says, her hand gesturing you to flip the meat.

“I guess so…” you turn the meat over in the pan. “Taehyung is hard to say no to.”

“He is…how do you say? Charming?” She gathers the side dishes and starts placing them on the table.

“He is.” You feel a blush creep on your cheeks. “He really is.”

Suddenly, you feel her hand on your arm. You turn your head to face Mrs. Kim and she’s looking at you with pleading eyes.

“……….” She says slowly, but you have no idea what she said. You scrunch your brows and look at her with a puzzled expression.

“You’ll learn Korean, won’t you? When you do, you will remember what I said.” She then smiles for you, letting go of your arm.

“I’ll try my best.” You say honestly. ��Thank you for having me here by the way.”

“Of course, we watched the two of you through photos for 8 months…you feel like family.”

“She’s very pretty.” Mr. Kim tells Taehyung, “But I’m worried….no….it’s fine. This will all be fine.”

“She’s beautiful.” Taehyung smiles, “And don’t be worried…everything is going to turn out the way it’s meant to.”

“The way it’s meant to, huh?” His dad grins at him, pulling him in for a side hug. “I know you will make sure of that.”

“I don’t want anyone else.” Taehyung admits between soft breaths, “She is the one for me, I know it.”

“I remember being that sure about your mom.” Mr. Kim begins to reminisce, “I still feel that way.”

“I know.” Taehyung finally hugs his father back, both of them letting go. “You will love her too, you will get to know her and realize I have every right to be in love.”

“Oh son…we already know you are in love. We saw it even through those photos.” Mr. Kim begins walking to the kitchen, “And she’s a woman in love if I’ve ever seen it.” He chuckles, “You two will be okay.”

“You think so?” Taehyung follows his dad towards the kitchen where you and his mom are.

They walk through and see the two of you setting up the table, you both look happy and Taehyung couldn’t be more pleased.

“Smells good.” Taehyung sniffs the air around him dramatically, “Did she help mom?” Taehyung winks at you and you roll your eyes playfully.

“She cooked all the meat! Next time I will get her to make the marinate.”

“I would love to learn.”

“She would love to learn! You hear that?” Taehyung comes up to you and hugs you tightly. “I will learn with you.” He whispers in your ear and places a quick kiss to your cheek. You immediately feel yourself heat up, feeling slightly embarrassed that he would show affection in front of his parents. But they don’t seem to mind, they instead smile at one another before taking a seat at the table.

“So, we want to know all about your time on the island! Happy memories.” Mrs. Kim requests sweetly. “The photos weren’t enough for storytelling.”

“Hmm.” Taehyung stuffs his face with meat, “I was so mean to her at first.” He laughs and you hit his shoulder.

“Yeah, he didn’t even want to talk to me!” you whine.

“We said happy memories!” Mr. Kim chuckles, patting his mouth with a napkin. “What was your first kiss like?”

“Oh yes! It was probably sweet and pure. I can just see it!” Mrs. Kim chirps making you blush hella hard. Your first kiss was anything but pure.

“I don’t want to stop, Tae.” You blurt out quickly. “I want to keep going.” You flutter your eyelashes at him, “Please.” His eyes widen.

Taehyung’s hands grip at your waist and leans in again, kissing you once more. His lips find yours in desperation this time, he moves his lips against yours messily yet perfectly. His hands slide down just a bit until they’re gripping your hips, he gives them a squeeze and you squeal. So he squeezes your hips again until you’re whimpering in his mouth. He takes advantage of your parted lips, taking this opportunity to lick past them and feel your tongue with his. He presses his mouth against yours harder as your hands run down his broad chest.

You begin exploring his front side, your hands gliding from his chest to his stomach. He groans when you slide your hands down with added pressure to his lower stomach, he feels himself tense as he continues to kiss you. His tongue swirls against yours as your kissing becomes more heated and more sloppy. He wants to explore your front too, god, he wants to feel your tits in his hands so bad. So he slides his hands up until he’s groping you, your breasts being squeezed passionately by his large hands. You groan when his thumb finds your nipple through the material of your shirt and thin bra, he’s rubbing it over and over and you roll your eyes back.

“It was very sweet. Very pure.” Taehyung comments nonchalantly, sticking another piece of meat in his mouth.

“Yes, very.” You repeat with a giggle. “The island holds some very precious memories for me.” You begin, “Taehyung really became someone special, someone precious. He felt like the first real friend I had in a long, long time.”

“What are you friends like at home?” Mr. Kim asks and you feel yourself grow a little smaller, but it isn’t as bad as it used to be, you can admit.

“I don’t really have many…most of my friends were from my old job but that place was…toxic. I’m glad it’s behind me.” You say honestly. “I work a new job now and everyone seems really nice, I look forward to making new friends.”

“We hear you have an older sister! That must be nice!” Mrs. Kim reaches for a side dish, piles some on her plate. “And your parents must be so happy to have you home.”

“Ah, Ellie. She’s great.” You take a sip of your water, “She really takes care of me. And my parents were a little sad I finally moved back out and back to the city. But they’re also happy I am moving forward with my life.”

“How do they feel about you coming to Korea?”

“My mom isn’t the most supportive…but dad and Ellie are.”

“Why isn’t your mom—”

“Anyway,” Taehyung cuts off his mother, “y/n is excited about her new job and making new friends.

“Well, she can always make new friends here.” Taehyung’s mother gives both of you a knowing look. “The boys will surely like her.”

“Well, yeah…” Taehyung gets out awkwardly. “But she’s only here for a few weeks.”

“But eventually she will—”

“Mom.” Taehyung warns. “Not now.”

“Fine, fine! Anyway I prepared your photos from the island, should we show you our favorites?” She says excitedly. “There is one in particular that really just…oh my, let me just show you!” She stands from her chair and walks towards one of the counters, picking up a pile of photos.

“This one. This one is my favorite.”

It’s of you and Taehyung on the couch, you’re both laughing, leaning into one another spaces. Taehyung has got his hand on your upper thigh and your head is leaning into his chest. It looks like you two are so happy. Like you two never want to leave the island. And at the point you’re sure you never did.

“I like it too.” You say quietly. “We look so happy.”

“Yeah.” You can hear the smile in Taehyung’s voice. “Show us more.”

“Okay, it was nice to meet you both.” You bow your head towards his parents and they smile at one another before they look over at Taehyung.

“Taehyung…”

Then his parents are pulling him to the side and speaking to him in Korean, so you have no idea what’s being said. But Taehyung looks flushed, then he is waving them off.

“Ready to go?” he asks with a blush.

“Did you have a nice time?” Taehyung asks you, his hand in your hand as you two walk to the bus stop. “My parents like you.”

“Yes.” You smile shyly, “But also why wouldn’t they? I’m amazing.” You tease, trying to act more confident than you are. Maybe to trick yourself to be nicer to yourself.

“That’s right baby.” Taehyung grins down at you, “You are.”

Although things went really well…you still can’t help but feel anxious over everything. Like you are undeserving of kindness. They were so nice to you even though you’re the reason Taehyung went through a sad phase. But you are trying to accept their love even if it’s really hard.

The bus ride to the stop near his apartment only takes around 20 minutes, you feel yourself nodding off on the bus. You had a long day and the jet lag is definitely starting to take a toll on you.

“Sleepy babe?” Taehyung takes your head in his hand and guides it on his shoulder. “Sleep a little.” He kisses the top of your head and you feel yourself grow more and more sleepy.

Eventually, Taehyung is gently shaking you awake letting you know you two made it to your stop near his apartment. You both walk to his place, the night time air making you feel nice. It’s easier to breathe out here, it’s easier to trick yourself into breathing freely and feeling like you aren’t being totally suffocated.

You walk into the apartment and Taehyung decides to put on a movie. You change into some fresh panties and one of his long t shirts before you’re settling on the couch. Taehyung makes some hot chocolate for the both of you before he is pressing play on the movie.

You aren’t sure what movie this is, what it’s about or anything because you are so god damn tired. You lay down in Taehyung’s lap and eventually fall asleep.

Taehyung looks down at you and feels himself falling more and more in love. Just watching you sleep, he feels himself growing with affection for you. But it’s on his mind. What his parents said to him before you two left.

“She isn’t ready Taehyung…” His mom states plainly, “She will need a lot of time.”

“She does seem like a very good girl.” His dad adds in, “But we can tell how overwhelmed she is.”

Taehyung feels his entire face flush as he tries to gather his words.

“We are going to take it slow.” Taehyung says, “Really slow.”

“Don’t push her too much. We know how badly you want to be with her but it seems like she has some things to figure out before she can commit to you. Just remember that.”

Taehyung huffs out as he recalls their words because they’re right and he knows they are right. You aren’t ready and that’s just the truth. But he can’t give up. But he also can’t pressure you. Where is the balance? What is the balance?

He knows you are probably feeling very pressured right now, even just being in Korea. Did he make a mistake? No, he can’t think that way. He knows everything will turn out the way it’s supposed to.

Taehyung watches you sleep more than he watches the movie. He just wants you to be happy, to be comfortable. He lifts you off his body so he can lay down too, spooning you on the sofa. He decides to sleep with you tonight.

~~~~~

It’s Tuesday. Taehyung takes you around Seoul, you visit popular sites, eat good food, even do some shopping. It’s the evening now and you two are at some nice restaurant, you even have your own little room.

“Is this not a date?” You playfully ask. “Because it sure feels like one.”

Taehyung takes a moment to think before he is pouting, his bottom lip jut out so far you want to kiss it.

“It is.” He finally says, “But it’s not the first official first date like how Friday will be.”

“Jeez,” You sigh out, a small laugh leaving your lips. “How many unofficial first dates will we have?”

“A million, if we have to.” He teases, reaching over the table for a side dish. “Do you kiss on the first date, y/n?” he suddenly asks, making you blush.

“With you? I just might.” You respond back. “Do you?”

“With you? I definitely will.” He says cooly, “Just an innocent kiss though.” He looks up at you and smirks.

“Oh? Sweet and pure? Like what your parents think—”

“It was sweet and pure!” Taehyung whines, “The sweetest, purest kiss of my life.”

“Oh?” You raise a brow at him. “What the hell other kind of kisses you been having?”

“Nothing like yours baby.” He winks at you.

You playfully scoff at him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You like kissing me?” Your eyes find his again, “Tell me.”

“I love kissing you. One of my favorite activities.”

“What are your other favorite activities?” you lick your lips, his eyes fall down to them.

“They all include you but I don’t think that’s appropriate dinner conversation.”

“At least tell me one. Or maybe I can guess?” You scoot to his side of the table, your body getting closer and closer to his.

“You can guess.” He gulps as your hand lands on his thigh. “Guess.”

“I think you like when…” your hand slide up and down his upper thigh. “When I touch you.”

“You guess right.” Taehyung stares straight ahead as your hand travels up his thigh higher and higher.

“My hand is one thing, but I bet you like my lips the most?” You lean up and kiss the side of his neck.

“Y/n…” Taehyung says breathlessly. “Not here.”

“Why not?” you continue to kiss his neck, making Taehyung grow weaker with every kiss.

“I don’t deserve to be touched by you.” Taehyung whispers.

“Baby…” You kiss his neck again, “I forgive you.” You say in his ear. Taehyung slowly closes his eyes and starts to shake his head.

“You don’t. You can be upset with me however long it takes.” He says quietly but you aren’t having it. You lean back and grip his arm, urging him to look at you.

“Tae…I said I forgive you. You…I thought a lot about it and yeah, it doesn’t make me happy but also we weren’t in a place that I can actually be upset over it. I’m trying my hardest to be understanding. And I think in the end, it’s no one’s fault that you did what you did. And you said it means nothing to you—”

“Nothing! It really didn’t mean anything…” Taehyung cuts you off, his expression is troubled. He looks at you with wide, panicked eyes. “y/n…I really wish I could take it back. I regretted it so much.” His eyes begin to bubble over. “That night especially…I wasn’t myself, I was in a dark place, I missed you so much, I—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Your hand reaches up to rub his shoulder. “I know, baby.” You continue to rub his shoulder as soothingly as possible, getting him to calm down.

“You really forgive me?” he asks, his voice small.

“Yes Tae.” You lean into him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I might still be a little bitter about it but I will try my best not to be. But overall, I forgive you. I know you regret it. I know the one you love is me…”

“Yes!” Taehyung basically shouts, “You’re the only one I love, I promise you.”

“I believe you.” You say, hugging him close. “This can be one thing we cross off our problems list.” You laugh. “I don’t want this to be a problem anymore.”

“Really baby?” He slips his arm over your shoulder, hugging you back.

“You deserve to be touched by me, Tae. Me and me only though.” You can’t help but chuckle.

“When we get home,” he breathes out, “I will let you touch me.”

“Okay.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “I can’t wait.”

“Fuck.” Taehyung groans. His hands go to your hair, he pulls at it making you moan all around his dick.

“You are art.” He grits out. Your tongue swirls over his tip before you take his cock further and further in your mouth. You have drool escaping the corner of your lips, your eyes are fogged up with lust and your cheeks are painted a lovely shade of pink. You truly do look like art.

“Take your time baby.” Taehyung moans, “We have all night.” You slowly lick up his length, getting it nice and wet. He moans for you, the low guttural sounds going straight to your pussy. You’ve missed this, missed him, missed his cock. Having him squirming beneath you feels so good as you make him feel amazing.

“I love your mouth…feels so good.” He watches as you bob your head up and down rather slowly. You suck his cock so well it makes him dizzy.

“You know how to make me feel good.” He finally closes his eyes as he just focuses on the feeling you give him. He focuses on your hands on his member, on his balls, he focuses on your tongue and how it licks him over and over. He focuses on your sounds, how you choke on his cock, how you moan for him.

Taehyung hates how close he is. But he hasn’t felt this amazing in months and months. He wishes he could have your lips wrapped around his cock for hours and hours, but he is losing control. He starts thrusting his hips upwards, desperate for more.

“Can I come down your throat? Will you swallow for me?” He pants.

You only moan around his length, the vibrations sending him over the edge. He feels himself go tense as he shoots his cum down your throat. You continue to fondle his balls, and suck on his tip as he finishes.

Taehyung whines out, throwing his head back as he comes down from his high. You swallow all his cum like you agreed to, the flavor lingering in your mouth. Tastes like him, tastes so good.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Taehyung moans, “How are you this good?”

“Let’s just say I was made for you.” You crawl up his body, Taehyung pulls you up by the arms and lays you down on his chest.

“You are, you definitely are.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head. “No one has ever made me feel like the way you do.”

“No one?”

“Just you my love.”

Explosions. Like, maybe something like fireworks go off in your chest. His new pet name for you makes you feel warm as fuck, and giddy too.

“I’m your love?” You try to pull your lips down, hiding this obvious smile.

“Of course, you are. Love of my life.” He states in a whisper. “I can’t see myself with anyone but you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” You respond sweetly. “The feeling is mutual.”

~~~~~

It’s Wednesday. You and Taehyung are just relaxing in his apartment today…you two plan on ordering take out for dinner and watching shows, playing games and just enjoying one another’s company.

“This feels a lot like one of our days on the island.” You say, leaning your head against Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it does.”

For the first time, things feel like they never changed. You feel at home with Taehyung, you feel like everything is right, everything is perfect.

“Even being here on this sofa reminds me…”

The slow drag of Taehyung’s cock is enough for your vision to become blurry, almost like you are drunk. The couch isn’t the most comfortable place to have sex but you both were so fucking needy for the other…you don’t even care about being watched. Not even for a moment as intimate as this.

Taehyung brings his hands to either side of you and starts rolling his hips into you deeper and deeper, your eyes roll so far back into your head that all you can see is the whites. His cock reaches places you didn’t even know about, you never knew cock alone would make you feel this fucking good.

Dreamy. That’s you would describe this moment. His length brushes against you in ways that make “seeing stars” like a child’s phrase. You’re beyond seeing stars, you are seeing whole galaxies. The universe is in your eyes with the way he makes you feel.

Taehyung’s chest falls to your chest, his lips on your lips as he continues to grind his hips into yours in the most slow, sensual fucking of your life. Can this even be called fucking? This might be called making love.

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of your steamy thoughts. Your whole face is red as you push back that memory. Taehyung knows though. He sees right through you.

“You’re thinking about the slow fuck, aren’t you?” He winks down at you. “When I fuck you again, it’ll be like that. But even better.”

“When?”

“When I just can’t take it.” He admits, “I have very little control left though.”

“I know it will be amazing.” You sigh out, “I can’t wait to feel that close with you again.” You murmur shyly, “Whenever you’re ready.”

“The more I look at you, the more I feel ready.” He says softly, making your heart skip a few beats.

~~~~

Thursday. You had a few days to gather courage but today you are feeling anxious all over again. You have already thrown up twice.

“Baby we can cancel.”

Today you are meeting Taehyung’s friends. Tonight, technically. But it’s only an hour before your meeting time and you are so overly anxious that you are physically sick.

“No, no.” You wave him off, “I’m just being a baby.”

“They’re the ones who said I should bring you back to Korea. No one is going to be mean to you, no one is going to make you feel unwelcome…well…no, no it’ll be fine.” Taehyung rubs your back.

“I know, I know.”

You were once not like this. But after everything that happened with your ex, with your old job and so on, you have become a nervous person. You know this is something you have to work through…

“But if it’s too much, we can cancel.” Taehyung offers again, you just shake your head and smile. He’s so loving, so supportive. What did you do to deserve someone as amazing as him? “No, I need to finish getting ready though.” You rise from the couch, “Will you help me pick something to wear?”

“You packed that green, flowy dress right?” Taehyung grins, “I love that dress on you. Wear that.”

“I was going to wear that tomorrow…for our date…”

“What about that new dress you bought on Tuesday? The red one?”

“Oh that’ll be a better date dress. Hm, okay. Green one tonight then.”

You walk into Taehyung’s bedroom, and take out the green dress. You slip it on over your body and examine yourself in the mirror, you look nice, you will admit.

“Beautiful.” Taehyung comes up behind you, circling his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “So beautiful.” He then kisses the side of your neck, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “I can’t wait to show you off tonight.”

His hands begin massaging your hips, you slowly close your eyes from how good it feels. You grind yourself into Taehyung’s crotch and he immediately groans out.

“We have to leave soon.” Taehyung warns. “Don’t make me get you off.”

“Why can’t we both get off?” You whine, “Just fuck me already.” You continue throwing your ass back into his crotch.

“I think soon but not right now.” He smiles. His hands continue to massage you, he rolls your hips with the guidance of his hands. “Are you almost ready?”

“Hm. Yes.” You open your eyes and make contact with him in the mirror, “I’m really nervous, to be honest.”

“What can I do or say to make you feel comfortable?” Taehyung hugs you close.

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll try anyway.” He laughs, shoving his face in the crook of your neck. “You are amazing, you are funny, you’re fun to be around, you’re adorable, you’re sexy, my friends are going to love you! They are all so excited, I promise.”

“Okay, okay.” You giggle. “I’ll just have to believe you.”

“That’s all I ask.”

You both stare at one another in the mirror for a while, you feel like every moment that passes with his eyes on yours you are falling in love all over again. The time on the island counts but this is real life, this is reality. You have to learn to live with the fact that the island was just one part of your relationship. That this new phase is something worth working on.

“I love you Taehyung.”

Taehyung blinks at you in the reflection, he looks genuinely surprised by your words. He turns you around in his grasp, your face now facing him, just inches away.

“Tell me again.” He says softly. “Tell me you love me again.”

“I love you.” You repeat in a daze, your mind starting to fog up with affection for Taehyung.

“How much do you love me?”

“Enough that I will do anything if it means we will be happy together.”

“I love you too.” Taehyung whispers, pulling you closer to him. He tilts his head to the side as he leans into your space. His words hit your lips softly and you feel yourself melting, melting so much that Taehyung has to basically hold you up.

“How much do you love me?” You ask, a slight teasing tone. Your eyes half lidded as you stare up at him.

“Enough that I can’t wait until our first date.”

“Can’t wait for wh—”

Suddenly, Taehyung’s lips crash into your lips. He kisses you long and deep. His lips staying on yours for a life time, you feel your knees give out on you. Taehyung holds your body up as you finally start to kiss him back. Your lips move against his slowly, tenderly, with so much feeling, so much passion.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you push yourself closer to him, your chest coming flush against his. He starts to move his lips against yours a little harder now, a little more desperately, a little more with fire. Taehyung surprises you with the long, dragged out moan that leaves him as he kisses you. Like, this is the first time he has ever kissed you. Like, he has been waiting a life time to kiss you.

His lips part for you and you take the hint to slide your tongue between his lips, finding his tongue tangling with yours immediately. His hands explore your body frantically, they grip you in every place you could want him. Your lips, your tongue, everything tastes so sweet. He can die a happy man after finally kissing you.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed but Taehyung’s ringing phone indicates that maybe you two are late. Taehyung pulls away from you, his erratic breathing hard to calm. He reaches for his phone and answers it.

“Hello? Uh huh…okay….sorry, sorry. We will be there in a bit.’

You smooth down your hair in the mirror and fix your make up a little bit, then you turn around to face Taehyung again.

“Who was that?” you ask.

“It was Jimin, him and Namjoon are already there. We should get going.” He pulls you in and places a quick peck to your lips. “You ready?”

“Yes. How do I look?”

~~~~

“Gorgeous! You look so gorgeous!” Jimin gushes, he holds you at arm’s length and you look at Taehyung with confused eyes.

“Umm, thank you. You look…gorgeous too.” You admit shyly…well, he does. You didn’t think Jimin would be this beautiful!

“Oh my god, me? Thank you!” Jimin goes in to hug you again, “I thought you were so pretty but pictures do not do you justice girl.”

“Oh my god…thank you…” You laugh, “I knew I looked bad in some of those pics.” You joke.

“Wait that’s not what I meant!” Jimin can’t help but pout…”I meant—”

“Okay, okay,” Namjoon steps between you two, “I’m Namjoon, by the way. I’m not sure Jimin here was ever going to give me the opportunity to introduce myself.” He chuckles. You shake his hand and he grins at you.

“It’s so nice to meet y—”

“y/n!” You hear your name being called but you don’t recognize the voice, you glance over your shoulder to see two new bodies walking towards you.

“Hi—” But before you can continue talking you are being engulfed in a hug by one of the men.

“I’m Hobi!” he laughs into your shoulder, “I’m so happy to meet you!”

“Oooh.” You nod your head in understanding, you glance at the other man who just give you a small wave of the hand.

“I’m Yoongi.” He says with a smile. “We are uh, your new friends.” He looks down at the floor, his gummy smile not going unnoticed by you.

“Hi, nice to meet you both.” You feel yourself smiling, you feel your heart glowing. Everyone is being so nice, it’s refreshing.

“Okay, stop hugging her Hobi…” Taehyung deadpans. “Where��s Jin and Jungkook?”

“They were right behind us…” Yoongi comments, “They probably got caught up talking to someone on the way in.”

“Well, you know Jungkook. Probably a girl.” Jimin teases, “So should we grab a table?”

You all search for two tables and put them together, so you all have a place to sit. It’s around 9pm. So the bar is starting to get crowded, but it feels fun.

“What are you drinking baby?” Taehyung leans into you, “Want a mixed drink?”

“Yeah, surprise me.” You nod, “Something strong though.” You wink up at Taehyung and he grins down at you.

“Okay.” He leans in and finds your lips. You kiss him back quickly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“You guys are so cute.” Jimin practically drools, “This is the first time we are seeing Taehyungie happy again.”

Guilt. But you’re trying, you are desperately trying to move past that feeling.

“It’s the first time since the island that I am this happy too.” You admit to Jimin. He leans into your space and smiles at you.

“You’re going to make Taehyung so happy, aren’t you?”

“I’ll try my best.” You giggle.

Taehyung comes back with two drinks, he hands one to you and you immediately gulp it back.

“Well, hello there friends.” A new voice. You look up to see who you assume is Jin and Jungkook.

“I am Jin, your new best friend.” He shakes your hand and you laugh. “This is Jungkook…” he gestures towards the other boy. Jin looks very happy to see you while….Jungkook does not, to put it simply.

“Hi Jungkook.” You wave at him and he only narrows his eyes at you, scoffs and looks away.

“Oh?” You raise a brow…finally, someone who is treating you the way you feel you deserve. Somehow this amuses you.

“Jungkook doesn’t want to be my new best friend?” You tease. You glance at Taehyung who looks tense but he immediately relaxes when he notices you taking this …rather well.

“Why?” Jungkook spits out, “So you can ghost me for 6 months?”

Ouch. But a well-deserved sting.

“Okay,” Taehyung stands to his feet and takes Jungkook by the arm and drags him off to the side so they can talk.

You watch, still amused. You don’t feel hurt by this…Jungkook is just being a good friend. Not that the others aren’t good friends but to be honest you expected this from at least one of them.

“If he doesn’t behave, just report to me and I’ll scold him.” Jin says playfully, “And if Taehyung does anything weird, you let me know and I will set him straight too.”

“I don’t like scolding Taehyungie…” Yoongi begins, “But I’ll do it.”

“Don’t count on me, everything Taehyung does is perfect in my eyes.” Jimin laughs, “I’m joking, I’m joking—”

“We aren’t so sure you are.” Namjoon cuts in. “But really y/n…this is the most we have seen Taehyung smile. It’s thanks to you.”

“It’s also my fault he….” Your eyes go to Taehyung who is still scolding Jungkook. “He—”

“It’s no ones fault!” Jimin claps his hands together. “Everything happened the way it did and now we can all move forward. Especially you y/n.” Jimin gives you a sweet smile, “Guilt is an ugly feeling. I would hate for you to be eaten alive by it when you don’t have to be.”

You feel your eyes sting with tears…you didn’t realize you needed an almost stranger tell you something like that…he’s a new friend right? You can call him a friend?

“Jimin…” You sniffle and he starts laughing loudly.

“Oh! Don’t get sad!” He leans in to hug you. “Let’s only make happy memories, okay?”

“The happiest.” Jin chimes in, “We’re all your friends now…and Jungkook will give in eventually.”

“Don’t worry too much about Jungkook…” Yoongi smiles, “He’s sort of the brat around here. You’ll get used to it.”

At this you laugh, you have heard stories. He is the youngest, after all.

“I’m not too concerned.” You admit under a few soft breaths, “It kind of feels good…getting what I deserve.”

“What are you? A Masochist?” Jimin frowns, “You deserve to be happy.”

“And I am…or, I will be. I’m getting there.”

“Okay, we are back!” Taehyung announces his and Jungkook’s presence. “And we are happy to be here, aren’t we Jungkook?” He says with his hand on the back of Jungkook’s neck.

“Totally.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Super happy to be here. Hi y/n.” he mutters underneath his breath. It’s cute actually.

“Hi Jungkook.” You giggle. “Want to take a shot with me?” you offer, standing up. Jungkook pinches his brows together then points to himself.

“With me?” he asks, clearly shocked.

“Yes, you.” You nod your head in the direction of the bar, “Coming?”

Taehyung looks over at you, also confused. But you just give him a smile that lets him know it’s okay.

“Sure…” Jungkook shrugs Taehyung off him, “If you’re buying.”

“What a brat.” Jimin laughs. “You should be buying her the drink, not the other way around.”

“No, no. I offered, I’ll buy.” You wink. You start walking towards the bar and Jungkook follows behind you.

You both walk up to the bar and you ask him to order for you, which he does. You both get handed two shots of some liquor and you raise your glass to clink it with his.

He eyes you curiously, wondering what your aim is here.

“Were you ever going to talk to him?” Jungkook finally says something.

“Taehyung believes I was going to…so yes. If he believes it then so do I.” you take your shot and Jungkook follows.

“I don’t like you.” Jungkook states plainly, “You made Taehyung really sad…”

“I know. I don’t think I like myself much either right now. But Jimin made me feel a little better…”

“Jimin will do that.” Jungkook sighs out. “But I still don’t like you.”

“You’re very cute Jungkook.” You reach up and ruffle his hair, you laugh out loud when you notice how red he has become. “You’re a good friend.”

“I-I-I…” He stutters out, feeling his blush hit him hard. “Whatever.” He looks off to the side. “Are you ready to go back or what?” he grumbles shyly.

You nod your head and you both walk back to your tables, Taehyung gives you a look of concern before you are smiling at him. A real life smile. And he relaxes.

“Hey baby.” He says, pulling out your chair for you to sit. “You didn’t grab another drink while you are up?” he asks, “I’ll go.” He stands, placing a kiss on your cheek and you nod gratefully.

“So what are we talking about?” You glance around the boys, “Anything interesting?”

“y/n! This is perfect, we can get a girls perspective.” Hobi smiles at you, “Yoongi has this girl he likes, right?” At this Yoongi groans, throwing his head back in annoyance. “But he won’t ask her out!”

“And how can I help?” You laugh.

“Well,” Jimin joins in, “We don’t know how this girl feels. So listen, listen.” Jimin puts a hand on your shoulder as he speaks, “She kissed him one time but hasn’t initiated anything since!”

“Oh…” you give Yoongi a look of pity and he starts laughing.

“I knew it.” Yoongi slaps his knee, “She isn’t into me guys.”

“Didn’t I say that?” Jin asks and Namjoon swats his arm. “What? It’s true. She is kissing on random guys all the time, I think you just happened to be one of them.”

“No!” Hobi cuts in, “Listen to this though! She asked for him last weekend, wondering where he was at…like, she missed his attention or whatever.”

“His attention or him?” you ask with a pointed look.

“Exactly.” Namjoon says, “We have to be sure if its him she wants and not his lips.” He starts making kissy faces and you all start laughing.

“Well, if she out tonight?” you ask, “Maybe I need to watch your interactions with her to be sure.”

“Wow, you can be a wing woman.” Hobi says with stars in his eyes.

“Oh my god yes a wing woman.” Jimin says with stars in his eyes as well.

“I’m not saying I will be much help!” You giggle, but the boys wave you off, still excited about having a wing woman.

“You’ll really help y/n?” Yoongi asks quietly. “You don’t have to.”

“Of course I’ll help…well, to the best of my abilities.”

“What did I miss?” Taehyung comes to the table, setting your drinks down. He takes a seat next to you.

“y/n is apparently all of our wing woman now.” Jungkook says nonchalantly.

“Psshh, like you need a wing woman.” Jimin teases, “You get girls just by being in the same room as them.”

“Stop trying to make my girlfriend do work when she just got here.” Taehyung pouts, “Don’t overwhelm her.”

“No, it’s nice.” You admit with a blush. “Feels like I have friends.” You say as quietly as possible to where only Taehyung can catch what you are saying. “We are your friends.” You hear Jimin whisper to you as he leans into your space. “Don’t ever doubt that.” Oh. You guess with Jimin next to you he was bound to hear.

“Thanks Jimin…”

Hours and hours pass, drinks are going down like crazy. Everyone is having so much fun it is ridiculous. You haven’t laughed this much probably ever in your life!

You feel yourself growing closer and closer with the boys, especially now that you are all drunk.

“Oh my god, I fucking love you!” Jimin laughs with his whole body, he practically falls out of his chair. “You told him his painting of you looked like a frog!” he snorts.

“Someone had to be honest about his human portraits, I suppose.” Namjoon laughs as well. “But a frog? You’re savage.”

“I thought his painting of the 7 of us was really….special.” Yoongi adds, “But I wouldn’t say we looked like frogs.”

“Oh, he made me look like a god damn frog.” You giggle. “I told him to burn it.”

“And did he?” Hobi asks.

“No, we kept it for the memories…” Then your face lights up. “By the way Tae…”

“Hm?” Taehyung smiles for you, “What is it?”

“Do you have the painting? They left us with a box of stuff right? Things from the island but I didn’t have the painting,”

“Yeah, I have it.” He nibbles on his bottom lip, “Maybe one day when we live together we can put it up…and then one you did of me as well.” He slurs.

“One day.” You grin.

“Oh my god, y/n.” Jimin whines, “You have to move here!”

The rest of the boys start clapping and agreeing, nodding their heads along.

“Wouldn’t that be a culture shock?” Jungkook speaks up, “She doesn’t even speak Korean.”

“Yeah, it would be.” You admit shyly. “But there’s time to think about all of that.”

Taehyung reaches for your hand and squeezes it.

“Yeah.” He agrees.

Jimin slumps his shoulders but smiles for you both anyway. Hobi stands up and offers his hand to you, you look at him quizzically.

“Want to dance?” He asks, “All of us of course, but you’re the lady. So I asked formerly. I don’t know I’m drunk.”

You can’t help but chuckle.

“Yes, let’s all dance!”

You all head to the dance floor, the music is loud and drowning out any and all worries you had about tonight.

“Having fun?” Taehyung brings you in, your back against his chest as he whispers in your ear.

“Time of my life.” You slur out honestly. “I can’t thank you enough for…”

“For what baby?”

“For showing me your world.”

“It can be our world…” He places a kiss on your neck. “One day.”

“I want any world as long as you are in it.” You say breathlessly. “I like your friends a lot.” You tell him and he grins into your neck.

“They’re the best and they will treat you right.” He breathes you in, “I trust them with my life, they’re like brothers.”

“I can tell. They’re a good group of dudes.”

“I can tell they like you too.” He sighs into your hair, “But I like you the most.”

You grind your ass into his crotch in beat with the music, his hands travel all over the front of your body. You two dance like this for a while when a feminine voice cuts through the sound of the music. You and Taehyung both snap your heads in the direction of the voice when you see a girl standing here, her hands on her hips and a look of disappointment on her face.

“Taehyung?” She says, his name sounds wrong on her tongue. This can only be who you think it is.

“Oh hey.” Taehyung awkwardly smiles, “What’s up?”

“Who’s this?” she asks, looking in your direction but she doesn’t look at you directly.

You don’t want to feel intimidated but it’s her. It’s Hana. She is even prettier in person. She’s got two friends with her, but they are talking to the boys.

“This is—”

“I’m y/n.” you say as confidently as possible.

“My girlfriend.” Taehyung says, he reaches for your hand and squeezes it. “y/n this is Hana.”

“Oh, nice to meet you.” You smile, and she scoffs. Fucking scoffs.

“………..” she says in Taehyung’s direction but you have no idea what she said since it was in Korean.

You stand here awkwardly, swaying from side to side as Taehyung talks to her…you wish you knew what they were saying. But you’re almost too drunk to care.

“Excuse us!” you smile, with Taehyung’s hand in yours you drag him to the bar leaving Hana behind.

“y/n.” Taehyung sighs out, “She was just—”

“Huh? It’s fine, Tae. I just wanted a drink and to be spending less time with her and more time with you.”

Taehyung can’t help the smirk that his lips curve into. He grabs you by the hips, pulls you in for a hug then leans away to look at you.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He says before leaning in to kiss you. His tongue prodding its way into your mouth, you moan out loud and swirl your tongue with his. Your kisses are rushed, sloppy and messy. And drunken as fuck.

“You guys are so hot.” Jimin whines as he walk up to you two, ordering his own drink.

You pull away from Taehyung and start laughing.

“Get two more of what you just got.” Taehyung smiles, “On me.”

“Oh hell yeah.” Jimin cheers. Then he is ordering two more drinks as Taehyung slides his card over the bar top.

“I saw you guys talking to Hana…” Jimin whispers to you, “How was that?”

“Don’t care.” You shrug, “She didn’t look very happy to see me though.”

“She was hopeful…” Jimin admits, “That she could get Taehyung to fall in love with her. She had been trying for a long time…then he disappears for 8 months and is in love with someone else. She tried to be understanding but it was still hard on her.”

“But it doesn’t matter,” Taehyung butts in with the drinks, “Because I told her you’re my girlfriend and the one I love so…”

“I know, Tae.” You smile, “I may not understand Korean but I got that much.” You laugh.

Jimin joins you in your giggles as he chugs the entire drink in one go.

“y/n!!” Yoongi stumbles over, “She’s here! She’s here! I need you my wing woman!”

Your eyes crinkle from how hard you are cheesing. You lean up to kiss Taehyung on the lips before walking towards Yoongi and following him to wherever he’s hanging out.

It’s a perfect night so far.

“Hold my hand.” Taehyung slurs with a pout on his lips. “Want to feel you, want to touch you, want to fu—”

“Want to what now?” You laugh into your palm, as you reach for Taehyung’s hand. He holds you close to him as you two walk back to his apartment, his body swaying into yours and yours into his.

“Fuck…I want to fuck you.” He whispers in your ear before he bursts out laughing for no drunken reason.

“I’d let you baby. But sober you would be mad at drunk you.” You slur out yourself, “I know how important waiting is for you.”

“You don’t get it…I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“You’re just drunk.”

“I am drunk but babe, I’m serious.” He tries to give you a straight face. “I feel overwhelmed with love for you.”

You feel your heart doing flips in your chest, you feel butterflies in your stomach and you feel your head going dizzy with affection.

“Really?”

“It went really well tonight.” Taehyung says, “So well that I have decided you are definitely my perfect match and that company did me the biggest favor because how else would I have met you?”

Usually the mention of the company would make you sad or anxious but somehow you feel grateful too.

“Tae…” you squeeze his hand, “My soulmate.” You bump your shoulder into his side.

“We are fucking soulmates.” He says, then he yells it out for the whole street to hear then he’s laughing deeply.

“Fucking soulmates.” He repeats just loud enough for only you to hear.

You two finally get to his apartment, you stumble in and plop yourselves down on the couch. Taehyung pulls you into his lap and starts kissing your neck, your collarbone, you shoulder. His lips devouring every free piece of skin he can find.

“Taehyung…” you moan, “Let’s wait until we are sober.” You breathe out roughly.

Taehyung continues kissing your skin and hums an ‘okay’. He lifts himself off you and gazes into your eyes.

“I will stay awake until I sober up. Until you sober up. Then I am going to make love to you. I am going to fuck you with so much fucking love you will be coming all around my cock time after time. You ready for that baby? You ready to have my cock coming inside you?”

You can’t help but gulp as you blink at him, then you are slowly nodding your head.

“Then let’s drink some water and make out until this room is no longer spinning. We aren’t sleeping tonight.” Taehyung warns in a deep, deep voice.

“We’re really staying awake until we sober up?” you laugh. “Aren’t you afraid we will fall asleep?”

“Baby, knowing that I get to fuck you in a few hours is all the motivation I need to stay awake. I believe you are the same. I know you are desperate for my cock. Desperate for me.”

And you are, you fucking are.

#bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #Taehyung smut #Taehyung angst #Taehyung fluff #the island chapter 10

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little-diable · 3 years

Text

Breaking the law - Draco Malfoy (smut)

Request by anon: will u write draco ✨spice✨ w prompt 13, 17, 25, 26, 27 he has a innocent girl kink

Hi lovie, sorry for the wait. This is probably one of my favorite Draco smuts I’ve ever written. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: breaking laws isn’t part of the readers nature, but a lazy mistake lets her tumble into Malfoy’s arms late at night, having to protect her from Umbridges rules.

Warning: this is filthy, spanking, unprotected sex, good girl kink

(Credit to gif owner)

“Well what do we have here?”, Draco’s voice echoed through the hallway, making (y/n) freeze, books pressed against her chest, (y/e/c) eyes closed, mumbling a small “oh no”. Draco stepped closer to her, by now he could smell her sweet perfume, the scent, that would engulf him late at night as his mind would begin to wander.

“Isn’t it past your curfew love?”, she wouldn’t turn towards him, too scared to be dragged into Umbridges office, she had never broken a rule before, she was the definition of a good girl, in any way.

“I’m sorry”, her breath hitched in her chest, trembling hands tightly holding onto her books, she could feel him near, his front was just about to touch her back. “Malfoy”, Umbridges voice made both of them exhale, he grasped her hand, interlacing his fingers with her, “let me do the talking, will you?”. Her mind was racing, focused on his soft hands, how he calmly traced her skin with his thumb, squeezing her hand, reassuring her that he’d cover for her.

Draco smiled at Umbridge, the lady was completely dressed in pink, just as usual, staring at the couple with a quirked eyebrow, arms crossed in front of her chest, “shouldn’t you be in bed, (y/l/n)?”.

(Y/n) visibly gulped, cursing herself for being that stupid, she had been hiding away in the library, exploring another fictional world she wished to be a part of, forgetting all about the curfew and the pink devil. She didn’t truly hear what Draco was telling Umbridge, too distracted by his calm aura and the way he kept holding onto her.

“Well, if you say so, off you go”, the woman shook her head, clicking her tongue as she turned away from them, not noticing the sly smirk that tugged on Dracos lips. “How-what?”, (y/n) stuttered, following him down the hallway, he tilted his head from left to right before he pushed her against the wall.

A gasp spilled from her lips, she was sure that he could hear her heart rapidly beating, biting her lip, eyes following his, “don’t worry love, I’ll never stop breaking the law for you”, he pressed a kiss to the spot underneath her ear.

She had always wondered what it would feel like to be that close to him, to the prince of Slytherin, to the boy she would dream about at night. Draco ran his thumb across her lower lip, eyes finding hers, slowly he moved his head closer, lips almost touching, she could feel his hot breath on her skin, letting go of her books as he kissed her. Their lips moved in synch, hands grasping each other's sides, getting lost in each other's taste, finally.

“Come on”, Draco didn’t want to ever stop kissing her, to explore her body like he had wanted to do so for ages, he pulled her towards his bedroom, hiding her away from the other students. The moment they stepped into his room he reattached his lips to hers, hand wandering underneath her sweater, fingertips dancing across her soft skin. “Draco”, she mumbled his name, hands fisting the fabric of his shirt, pressing her thighs together, trying to forget about her pulsing clit.

His deep chuckle rumbled through him, hand tangled in her (y/h/c) hair, twirling around some loose strands between his fingers. Draco kissed his way down her throat, his trousers were getting tighter and tighter, pressing his bulge against her middle, obsessed with the sound of her moans. With trembling hands she unbuttoned his shirt, eyes set on his chest, god he was beautiful. Her hungry gaze made his length twitch, growling as he tugged her sweater over her head, blouse following shortly after.

(Y/n)s boobs were hidden away by the lacy material of her bra, he ran his thumb across it, squeezing her nipples, desperate for more. Her emotions were all over the place, she had done this before with boys, that didn’t really bother her much, an experience she wanted to get over and done with, but with Draco it was different, completely different. She wanted him to explore her body, to touch her where she’d touch herself to the thought of him, to wreck her, destroying her for anybody else she’d ever be with.

“Onto your knees, be a good girl for me”, his raspy voice shot shivers up her spine, dropping onto her knees, following his every command. She couldn’t take her eyes off his entrancing ones, unzipping his trousers, biting her lip as her eyes fell upon his hard length, tongue licking from his base to the tip, picking up the drops of precum, moaning from the taste.

Draco had always been mesmerized by her, her innocent nature brought the most sinful thoughts upon him, eyes perfectly harmonizing with the colour of her house, (y/h/c) hair rounding up her features.

Moan after moan rumbled through him, praying that she wouldn’t stop anytime soon, obsessed with the way she twirled her tongue, cheeks hallowed, swallowing him as he reached the back of her throat. But eventually he pulled out of her mouth, pulling her onto her feet, pushing her down on his bed, oh he’d have his fun with her.

“You’ve been a bad girl, haven't you?”, she stared at him with wide eyes, wondering what he was talking about, “sneaking around the castle, after the curfew, I think that calls for a punishment”, he ran his hand up to her features, cupping her flushed cheek, his cold ring pressed against her skin, bright eyes teasing her.

He quickly grasped her sides and flipped her onto her front, ass high in the air, short skirt exposing her skin. Draco couldn’t wait to burn his handprint into her skin, marking her for the next few days, reminding her of the things he was about to do.

“Such a bad girl, going against the rules”, he mumbled, hand pressed against her behind, kneading her skin, her heart was racing, hands holding onto the pillow she had her face pressed into, deeply exhaling. Draco slapped his palm against her skin, spanking her with all his strength, not going easy on her.

Her first instinct was to move away from him, a cry rumbled through her, lips parted, “don’t move, I won’t hesitate with taking it up to 20”, the words made her gulp, trying to calm herself down. Draco gave it a few seconds till he started once again, snapping his palm against her behind, skin bruised as he finished after 10 more slaps.

Tears stained his pillow, glistering on her cheek as he pulled her off the fabric, behind pushed against his naked chest. He pressed a few kisses to the back of her neck, arm sneaking around her waist, hand moving between her thighs, teasing the soaked through fabric of her panties.

“Relax”, he murmured, Draco unclasped her bra, cupping her boobs from behind, eyes staring down on her, “so gorgeous”. Her head fell against his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut, hands grasping his forearms, “Draco”, she moaned his name, “more”, (y/n) panted.

He gave her some space to fall against the mattress, back pressed against the soft material, eyes watching him tug down her skirt and panties in one move. Her walls were dripping, aching for his touch, he dipped his head down, pressing a kiss to her pulsing clit, fingers teasing her entrance.

Draco pushed two fingers into her heat, she arched her back, hands finding his silvery hair, tugging on the roots, desperately holding onto him. The prince of Slytherin knew exactly where to touch her, where to kiss and lick, hot breath crashing against her skin, goosebumps began to appear, making a smirk tug on his lips.

He moved up her body, hovering above her, lips meeting hers, he grasped his length, coating his tip with her arousal before he pushed into her, spreading her walls around his length.

(Y/n) had to squeeze her eyes shut, he was bigger than anybody she had ever been with, nails clawing into his skin, trying to drown out the feeling of her burning walls. Draco gave her a few moments to adjust, stroking some strands of her hair out of her face, admiring every inch of her features.

Slowly he pulled out of her, pushing all in once again, repeating the motion till a few moans spilled out of her, telling him that he could begin to build up his pace. ”Such a good girl for me”, the words made her smile.

It seemed as if she had forgotten that they were still in Hogwarts, surrounded by other chambers, loud moans rumbled through her, squealing his name as he teased all the right spots. “Are you that needy? Don’t you care about them hearing you scream my name?”, Draco growled, high on her taste, on her scent and the way she clenched her walls around his member. She shook her head, eyes finding his, Draco placed his hand over her mouth, toning down the volume of her sounds, smirking as her hot breath crashed against his palm.

A few spots appeared in her vision, she wouldn’t last much longer, after months of admiring him, praying that he’d touch her like that almost every night, it was too much, her emotions were getting the best of her. Draco could tell that she would tumble over the edge any moment now, he pressed his thumb against her clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves, eyes not leaving hers once. “Let go love”, he panted, lips finding her hard nipples, slightly biting her skin.

Her walls fluttered around him, she moaned his name, orgasm crashing upon her, losing all control over her body, thrashing around underneath him. Draco's length began to twitch, he pulled out of her, panting her name as he pumped his length, releasing himself onto her skin, cum painting her lower belly white. “Fuck”, his eyes fluttered close, pressing his head against her chest, she combed her hand through his hair, smiling at him.

Maybe breaking the law had its perks.

#Draco Malfoy #Draco Malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy smut #Draco Malfoy x reader #Harry Potter imagine #Harry Potter smut #tom felton #slytherin

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

teacher’s pet

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~3.2k

Keigo is a remarkably good listener and fast learner, especially when you're involved.

warnings: virgin keigo, gooey ass, soft, sweet smut, not too mention the softest keigo i’ve ever written probably?? first time oral baby, also praise kink

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shoutout to @la-saffron for the lovely headcanons and feral shit that inspired this fic. and thank you to the wuv @keiqos for beta reading. enjoy some soft, gooey, smut. this fic is, at its root, keigo finding the clit. that’s the plot

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“J-just like this,” Your voice was soft and breaking, spit sticking in your throat. Touching yourself in front of Keigo like this should’ve been somewhat intimidating, especially with the rapt focus he had on every movement of your body and breaths. But, surprisingly, watching the way he nearly drooled at your form just made you hotter.

When Keigo asked to date you, you’d never expected he’d be a virgin. But, with his work and his mutations, he’d never had sex or the opportunity to do so properly. Truthfully, he never even learned much beyond his own base needs to blow his load with his fist.

But, you were more than a willing teacher.

Laying on your back atop his silken comforter was heaven, head propped up ever so nicely by a pillow that Keigo had placed under it. The night had started off with slow touches and soft kisses, all things the two of you had done before. But, it progressed to a little planned show-and-tell.

You were splayed before him, naked over his sheets with your legs spread as he kneeled in between them. For all of his gusto and readiness, his wings were folded against his back, timidly tucked away as he took you in, gently palming his cock.

Every motion of yours seemed almost lazy. Fingers slowly pinched your nipples while your other hand played with your sex at a tortuously relaxed pace. All the while, you kept your voice low and liquidy.

“Right here?” You circled your clit, back bending the slightest bit with the hums of heat it sent up your spine. “This is my clit. It feels really good if you touch it nice. It’s very sensitive though.”

Keigo nodded like the good boy he was, enraptured by you.

He had beads of sweat racing down his temples, hair mussed by his own touch. Other than gently pumping his own leaking cock, his only other moment was to occasionally fist his hair, a whine dribbling from his bitten lips.

This must’ve been scary for him, truthfully. All the vulnerability of not only being bare for someone else but them being bare for you.

You had seen a bit of fear when Keigo had first started to help you disrobe, how his touch got so gentle, feather-like against you to the point of raising gooseflesh. He’d stared so cautiously at you when you first slipped down onto the covers. Despite the tenseness in his shoulders, he traced up your bare body with shaking breaths and clammy hands.

When you had parted your legs around him, you watched how the gold of his eyes was eaten up by his widening pupils. His mouth had fallen open, cock twitching cutely in his boxers.

But now that you two were in the heat of the moment? He was a perfect student despite his usual sarcasm and crassness out of the bedroom.

“And here,” You slipped a finger into your sex, feeling a bit of slick puddle around the digit. Keigo’s nostrils flared, wings twitching. “This is my pussy, where your pretty cock goes when you fuck me, right, Kei’?”

He nodded, thumbing over the head of his cock, smearing preek. His voice shook with his own tension and deep-focus, “Y-yeah.”

You smiled at him, shifting one of your legs to give his thigh a soft bump, “You’re doing so well, baby. You wanna know more?”

“I mean, yeah, but... I haven’t really done anything,” Keigo spoke with some remorse, averting his gaze from your body to somewhere far off. The corners of his lips tugged down, his arm going to guard over his chest as though it could protect him from his own internal fear.

That insecurity, that look of near humiliation just wouldn’t do.

“Keigo.” You spoke to pull him from his thoughts. It roused him well with the way he turned back to you, eyes widening as you slowly pumped your finger in your cunt. “You’re gonna do so much. I can’t wait for you to make me feel good. Can you help me?”

Oh, the call to help others was intrinsic and embedded in Keigo’s psyche.

One of his half-taloned hands drifted to rest on your thigh. His expression went doughy, softening at your even softer words, “I can. I promise.”

You beamed at him with everything you had.

“Thank you. I know you can. God, Keigo,” You shook out a breath, withdrawing your finger from your sex. “Do you want to taste?”

Oh, the look he gave you. He may have been avian, but with the light in his eyes and the way his tongue dropped from his sweetly parted lips made him look far more like an obedient puppy than a bird.

You smiled at him, tilting your head as you slid your fingers into his mouth, pressing down to rub your digits on his tongue.

“See how nice I taste? Imagine how good that will be all around you when you eat my cunt.”

The thought had Keigo groaning around your fingers, squeezing his cock. His fist jerked from balls to tip as his eyes rolled back in his head.

Without even instructing him, he sucked at your fingers, lapping at them perfectly. You let him lave over them, his tongue dipping anywhere it could savor you.

You pulled the digits away, admiring the way they glistened with his spit. You brought them down to your cunt, rubbing over your labia.

“Before we fuck, you gotta make sure I’m ready,” You told him, slowly pressing two fingers to your entrance. You could certainly go faster, but this was ‘educational’. “Gotta stretch me out nice, make sure I’m all wet. Well, that isn’t too hard with you around, is it?”

You send him a quick wink and marvel as he turns cherry red.

“And this is important, sweetheart,” You called his attention fully, slowing your movements. “There’s a little spot inside me, that if you hit it just right, will make me feel so good.”

You were just about to crook your fingers when Keigo stopped you, stilling your hand with his own. He gently tugged your wrist, bottom lip pushed out in a pout.

“C-can... I try?” He was so tentative, looking shyly at you as you were so vulnerable beneath him. “I w-want to help you feel good.”

“Of course, ‘Kei. You’re going to do so well.”

He shuddered at the praise.

You took your fingers from your cunt to your lips, sucking off your own slick. Really, it was just to watch the way Keigo’s thighs clenched as you did.

You flickered your eyes lower as you took your fingers from your mouth, wiping them on your hip, “Go for it, I’ll tell you what feels good and what doesn’t. Make sure you use the hand we clipped your nails on, okay?”

Ever diligent, Keigo genuinely checked his hand to make sure it was the correct one, talons tamed for the specific instruction that was occurring.

With all the grace and tenderness he could muster, Keigo gripped your thigh, massaging the muscles on his way to your cunt. It was cute, the way he fell forward as he did, ending up propped up on his elbows between your legs. There was pure awe in his eyes as his finger reached the apex of your thighs.

He looked up at you, hesitantly.

You nodded, shooting him a smile before settling a hand on his shoulder to rub at the tension he was still carrying in his shoulder.

Gingerly, Keigo let his fingers drift from your hole to your clit, grinding the pad of his thumb down on the puffy nub. Keigo was a good student, truly, as his pressure and speed were enough to make you drop your head back on the pillow and let out a purely sinful moan.

He paused.

“Good?”

His voice was so sweet.

“So good, ‘Kei. Keep going.”

He obeyed dutifully.

His touch slipped downward, teasing the entrance before slipping one finger in. He moved slowly, but not in any way that was lazy. With the quivering of his feathers, you could tell Keigo was literally feeling the way you reacted to him. Every twitch and spasm of your cunt was his guide, as were your quickening breaths.

He pressed another in, shortly. Watching them coat with slick, slowly fucking into you again.

“Good boy, ‘Kei. You’re doing so well for me.”

The praise made his eyes roll back in his head.

You smirked.

“Now, baby,” You called his attention again. “To hit that special spot, all you need to do is curl your fingers.”

He frowned, flattening himself to the bed a bit more, “That seems... Very easy.”

You couldn’t help chuckle, carding a hand through his damp tresses, “It’s not hard, once you know what you’re doing. Why don’t you try for me?”

Oh, did Keigo obey so fucking sweetly for you.

You never thought that someone simply softly fingering you, so fucking kindly and gazing at you so reverently would turn you on as much as it did, but god, did it.

Keigo’s fingers curled in your cunt, every movement precise, but not quite enough.

“A little more, baby. It’s a bit harsher of an angle than you think.”

Keigo’s brow pulled down as he bit his lip. You could feel his hot breath over your cunt and inner thighs as he crooked his fingers just right.

The cry that rang from your throat surprised both of you. Being gently touched like this, on your insides, was making you turn to liquid before him. Your nails dug into his scalp as you lightly rolled your hips into his touch.

Your legs tensed around him as he massaged at the spongy spot. With your head thrown back on the pillow, you couldn’t see his face.

But holy fuck, could you feel it.

Keigo, apparently, decided to take some of your lessons for a spin. The searing breath you’d been feeling before was suddenly very close to your sex, just before you felt the light lap of his tongue against your clit.

“Oh fuck, Keigo!” You fisted the sheets, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t think him kitten-licking your cunt (just once) would get you this worked up, yet you were sweating and needy for him.

“Am I doing this right?” Keigo drew his mouth away, pressing a sugary kiss to your thigh instead.

You nodded, breathing a bit harsher. You needed more.

“Yes, Kei’. Fuck,” Your voice trembled. “Do you want to keep going?”

There was a deliberate pause.

Keigo rose up from his spot between your legs, his actions met with a little whimper that was caught in the back of your throat.

He slid over you, straddling your hips and placing his hands on either side of your head.

You stared up, now wide-eyed yourself.

Keigo had never looked this intense before. There was still something so fucking tender and raw about how he looked at you, a sweet smile on his face as he pressed a kiss to your nose, then your cheeks, and finally your lips. You cupped his jaw, tilting your head to get more of him.

He pulled away, his breath coming in little puffs as his wings slowly spread out behind him.

“Can I please make you cum? Please?” Keigo asked so sweetly, kissing down your neck. “Let me make you feel good.”

How quickly does the master become the student. Or, maybe receiver.

All the same, thoughts of training Keigo were gone. With the smoldering look he was beaming you from his amber eyes, all you could do was give him a breathless ‘yes, please.’

Keigo was smitten under your command.

He slid down your body, leaving kisses in his wake. Nothing harsh, nothing that could hurt or be painful. Each movement was matched with a flicker of a grin from him with the way your body jumped with every touch.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” You lavished him in praise as he drifted down your body, settling between your legs once more.

This time, he gently hiked your calves over his shoulder, nestling between your thighs and adjusting as he needed.

You swallowed, the feel of Keigo so close making your cunt ache. You needed him in a way you’d rarely let yourself indulge before. Most of the time, the feeling of needing release after a particularly steamy makeout session with Keigo was sated with a well-used vibrator and a glass of wine.

But, to have Keigo so close and so ready?

You could feel the slick dripping from your hole at the mere thought. The coil in your gut already seemed tight with the anticipation of it all.

“God, dove,” Keigo breathed. Without missing a beat, he dragged his tongue up your cunt, stopping at your clit to swirl his tongue around it once.

He pulled away, but not before dropping a kiss on the throbbing bud. All the while, you let out little keens and gasps, forcing your hips still so as to not overwhelm him.

You looked down at him, lips parted and wet with spittle. His eyes met yours, lips curled in a smug grin, “You’re so beautiful. Can I taste you more?”

You could tell by the tone, look in his eye, and your knowledge of Keigo’s general demeanor that the moment he got the hang of making you feel good, he was going to take advantage of his prowess and become the most obnoxious tease.

You savored the thought.

“Please, Keigo. Show me how good you are.” You breathed back, letting yourself relax into the sheets as Keigo went to town.

At first, he only used his tongue. He left languid licks as he pressed as close as he could to just ravish you with what he had learned.

Keigo was obviously a very talented, well-trained person. He showed you with the way he ate your cunt like it was ambrosia and nectar, tracing shapes and sigils on your flesh with the way his touch bewitched your body, wracked with tremors and needy cries.

Quickly, he was pressing a finger into you. This time, he wasn’t so slow, but still, the amount of care he put into the motion was almost startling. He gently pumped in and out of you, all the while still kissing at your clit. He lapped at it, nonsense words and sweet nothings being spelled out on the sensitive flesh, each movement causing hot pleasure to curl your toes and bend your spine.

You cried and moaned for him, giving him all the praise you could find your lust-fogged mind. With each utterance of how Keigo was a ‘good boy’, you felt his throaty groans vibrant against your sensitive bits.

You cherished the feeling.

Keigo withdrew his fingers, taking a breather from licking you as well. Glancing up at you to check-in, he beamed up at your already fucked out expression.

“Feeling good?” He asked, kissing your thigh with a quick nip.

He’s getting bolder.

“Very good,” you hummed, yipping at the sensation of two of his fingers playing with your entrance. You weren’t above begging, despite knowing that allowing him to figure out how into it he would be was a dangerous move. “Please, Keigo. M-make me cum for you.”

He hummed, musing over it, Pandora’s box opened.

Though, he seemed to decide to test out teasing on another day. Keigo was kind enough to fuck his two fingers into you, cunt nearly sucking them in with the way you were already so tense and ready.

You could feel his smile against your clit as he tried sucking it into his mouth, curling his fingers at the exact same moment.

The gentleness, the carefulness and the love in it all nearly made your vision white out. You clung to lucidity, babbling sweetness to Keigo as he massaged at your insides, fucking them earnestly with his perfectly toned muscles behind each movement.

As he tongued at your clit, he never took his eyes off you, watching each of your twitches and reactions and adjusting accordingly. He hardly had to, though. The slick drenching his fingers and the way your hands flew to his hair were more than enough of a sign that you were already getting close.

“Fuck, fuck, Kei’, don’t stop—” You nearly sobbed as boiling pressure was so close to bubbling over in your belly.

His fingers truly fucked into you as he grunted against your sex, moving with more vigor but not once losing rhythm or pace. You could vaguely tell that he was grinding against the bed, scarlet wings extended, and flapping every few moments.

With one final kiss to your clit, you crested over the edge and let yourself go.

You spasmed around his fingers as you wailed out his name, hands flying to his hair to hold him to your cunt, grinding against his face as he sputtered out his own moans. His hips stuttered against the bed, wings beating the air a few times as your back arched and you sang for him.

He kept moving through your orgasm, pressing and rubbing at your cunt with all the technique and knowledge he could, guiding you to the last moments of your peak.

You fell against the sheets, boneless. Sweat laid sticky in your hair as your chest heaved with breath.

Keigo, the surprisingly attentive lover, popped up from between your legs, “Was that okay, dove?”

“God, Keigo,” your vision still spun as you reached for him. “Fuck, it was so good. You’re such a good boy, such a good fucking boy, Keigo.”

“I am, now?” Keigo’s normal teasing mood coming alive once more. “Glad to hear that. Can I do that again sometime?”

“Anytime, fuck,” You propped yourself up on your elbows, dragging him closer. It was then noticed his softened cock, wet with cum. “Did... you come? From eating me out?”

“And, uh, humping the bed.” That shame presented itself once more in his voice. Even as you dragged him closer, cuddles necessary, he looked a little ashamed. “I got a little excited.”

“Keigo,” You put your palms to his cheeks, squishing them and frowning softly, but the expression quickly turned melancholy. “That’s good. It’s all about both of us feeling good. And, did it feel good for you?”

“Fuck yes,” Keigo breathed, tension rolling out of his shoulders with your reminder. He snatched you up by the waist, dragging you to his chest as he fell to his side on the mattress. “It felt so good. Thank you.”

He peppered a smattering of kisses across your face as you giggled, all for him.

“Thank you,” Quietly, you returned the sentiment, kissing the apple of his cheek. “For being so good, really. You really are a good listener when you want to be.”

“I guess I am, huh.” At that, Keigo chuckled, nuzzling his nose into our hair with a hum. He wrapped you up the best he could with his wings, allowing you to go gooey in his arms.

“I’m excited to see what else you can teach me.”

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taglist: @sinclairsamess

#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #hawks #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo x you #takami keigo x y/n #mha smut #mha x reader #hawks reader insert #takami keigo reader insert #hawks smut

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lesbiradshaw · 2 years

Text

thinking about steve's deeply rooted abandonment issues tonight so here’s yet another long winded post about shit that no one asked for! i tried to ramble about it in the tags but it literally got too long so…

i think part of the reason i get so annoyed w the eg ending obsessors focusing mainly on twisting steve into like… this toxic evil person who leaves bucky and everyone else all the time is because although there are criticisms to make about steve dumping such a heavy burden (the shield) on sam and then dipping on both him and bucky (yes there are other issues but they have already been beaten in by like ten million twitter threads- are we not miserable yet?), when it comes down to it, STEVE himself has been consistently abandoned his entire life. by almost everyone he has ever deemed important. even before he was born.

also, one of his main traits in my opinion is basically that he's loyal to a fault. not in a blind follower way, but kinda like how they describe it in percy jackson- excessive personal loyalty. “he will risk his life (and even the world) for his friends, family, and sometimes even strangers and enemies who he empathizes with… being overly loyal could lead to making you predictable to your enemies as well”. yeah! that’s a pretty Steve quote i feel like. that logic is partly why zemo chose bucky as his tool to break up the avengers and get his revenge, but ANYWAYS! steve attaches himself to people very deeply once he trusts them.

(mcu) steve's dad died before he was even born because of ww1. steve’s mom dies months after he turns 18 bc of something she caught at work. both of those things happen because the personal priorities they had outside of steve took them away, so being left behind is a lesson that steve learns from a very young age onward. eventually, ww2 takes bucky too, and while it isn’t bucky’s fault, just like it wasn’t sarah or joseph’s (even if bucky enlisted, because… NAZIS? hello) it still has to hurt steve to see him leave outside of the fact steve wants to go too. steve gets left at the expo. he gets left when erskine is killed - a man who was probably the first to fully believe in steve outside of sarah or bucky in years. even howard and peggy don’t stick around once the USO stuff starts, because what good is steve to them as a show pony? time passes. steve gets bucky back and forms a team. things get as good as they can during a war— and then, bucky is taken from him again by the fall.

yes, in the end of tfa, steve is the one who leaves as the valkyrie goes down. maybe his choice to not try and escape is intentional. maybe not. either way, when steve wakes up, he's essentially been left behind by every single person he knew before in life. the howlies are gone, howard is gone, peggy is pretty much gone. bucky was gone even before the ice. their legacies are still around, but you can only cling to that so much. avengers 2012 happens and the avengers dont really stick together much after. there are tentative relationships formed, but steve rides off alone.

we dont know how long it took for him to settle down in dc after. he does form somewhat of a life with working at shield and being nice to his neighbor, but it’s very short lived thanks to everything that goes down with hydra. we see signs of steve not being sure he can trust nat even before everything sort of explodes, but then all of the sudden, steve can’t really trust anyone. even his nice neighbor only talked to him to spy on his activity outside of work, and work is not turning out to be so good anymore. eventually, steve does come to trust nat. he finds sam and trusts him. he even sort of finds but, but maybe that doesn’t count, because steve never really got him back to begin with before he left. steve fell with every expectation that he was going to not wake up, so when he did come to in that hospital, seeing sam there was a comfort, but also a shock. steve wasn’t supposed to be alive to be left by bucky again to befin with. i feel the need to reiterate that i’m not trying to make things out to be bucky’s fault, because he had every right to make the choice to walk away (and tbh it WAS the smartest decision— even if we were shown that bucky wanted to take steve with him, he couldn’t. steve needed a hospital. he would have died if bucky’s curiosity had won out over his other choices). i’m just focusing on the fact steve was left behind yet another time.

still. steve searches for bucky for two years after that and only finds him in the end because of zemo. bucky was in hiding, and i don’t think he was planning on changing that anytime soon from the looks of how he was living and his reaction to coming home to steve in his kitchen. it’s not stated outright, but he was likely slipping away from steve’s search attempts on purpose in those two years, which again, is his right. but it probably still made steve feel a lot of different things, even though he also probably understood why bucky was running. anyways. once civil war starts, bucky (understandably) tries to run again from the apartment. he does not suggest that he wants steve to come with him. a lot of shit happens in between scenes, but natasha ends up on the opposide side of steves team for a while, even once she rejoins him, it ends with her and sam being taken away from steve. all of team cap is imprisoned and nat is threatened with the same treatment if she acts out again. bucky going into cryo at the end of the movie was such a fucking cop out on the writers’ part and if anyone wants i will rant about it in more detail sometimes, but to make a long(er) rant short: to me, that had to've fucked steve up so much. bucky has left him so many times before, but this is the first time that it’s confirmed to fully he his choice. bucky is in his right mind. steve isn’t bleeding out or drowning. it’s different than the other times.

steve lets him go, though. he accepts it even though he doesn’t look like he wants to, because that’s another thing steve is: selfless to a fault. he goes out and breaks his friends out of prison. he finds nat and goes on the run with her and sam for the next few years while bucky is in cryo and then eventually is in wakanda, awake again and building a life. steve visits him, checks in on him, seems somewhat content— and then, thanos and the snap happen. vision is killed. almost all of steve’s friends, his family are gone within seconds. steve watched it happen to bucky, but the fact he doesn’t even get to see sam go is horrible in its own way. it’s like what happened before, but even worse, because was this what his friends from before felt like when he went into the ice? bucky, sam, and the others are gone for five years rather than seventy, but considering steve had only been awake in the modern century at that point for around.. what, seven years? five years without most of the people he’d finally come to hold close… without bucky, who he’d only had back in small doses for a few years… it’s awful to think about.

steve still steve had natasha, who was mourning the loss of sam and yelena herself. steve has natasha, and then, he doesn’t. she’s taken too, and that span of time between when natasha didn’t come back from vormir and when sam and bucky were still dusted… god, steve’s grief is never properly shown. eg’s writing sucks in a lot of spots for a lot of reasons, but the lack of gratification we get for steve finally being reunited with the people who he loves who have been repeatedly taken away from him is SO annoying! it’s so stupid! i hate this common agreement that the secret steve slanderers have come to about steve being some sort of serial abandoner when the truth is, steve is the one being abandoned at every turn. some of it is for good reason, some of it arguably isn’t, but even if he understood— how he must have felt… how used to it he tried to get… how much he hated that it still hurt every time.

god. i wish more people would be angry about that part of his arc being ruined too not just by the writers but by some of his own stans. there’s a reason he told tony in that letter that he’s always felt alone.

#im focusing on how steve FEELS for this post more than the logic of why he was left #so im sorry i didnt get into buckys side of things but. another time!#but literally theres no way steve let sam or bucky out of his sight for a WEEK after that battle was over #probably longer #sam had to mourn nat too .. steve had to heal from his injuries #bucky had to acclimate to no longer being a fawking fugitive farmer too #man. steve needs a good cuddle with all of his loved ones #just a giant blanket burrito pile w him in the center #:(#stevie pie #steve has separation anxiety by the end of these movies #like theres no way he could avoid it #hes watched people disappear too many times

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angelguk · 3 years

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Omg pleaseee write the jock jk playboy bunny costume idea u had 🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼😩😩💗💗

lemme do a quick little thing 4 u :)

featuring: oc and jk being dumb lovers, chayoung (the female lead from vincenzo) as seed of doubt, anniversaries and a playboy bunny costume. somewhat mature towards the end but only because jk see's sexy gf and cannot help himself.

This is a stupid idea, so incredibly stupid that you're considering jumping out of the bathroom window right now. A four-storey jump may result in various injuries (or potentially death) but it would be a far more welcomed out come than leaving Jeongguk's bathroom in this stupid costume.

You don't know why you bothered to listen to Chayoung's drunken blabbering. The moment you'd mentioned your upcoming one-year anniversary she's launched into a spiel about how young love never lasts, or how the roots for future foreboding break-ups were planted during the first anniversary. Her words sowed a dangerous seed in your head, one that was nurtured by Jeongguk's sudden distance. You could tell he was stressed, weighed down by the daunting options before him. Coach wanted to push him to try for the national leagues, his parents wanted him to take a step back and focus on his degree, and Jeongguk, after one quiet evening at yours, had confessed he didn't know what he wanted at all. It hurt to see him like this, usually such a sure and confident soul suddenly staggering and lost. But what could you do apart from hold his hand as he walked forward and help him up when he fell? There was nothing else you could offer, you knew his parents and their concerns were sensible but those same concerns made Jeongguk wonder if they ever believed in him in the first place.

So maybe that's why you're doing this, in hopes of rekindling a spark you feel dying and taking Jeongguk's mind away from everything that burdened him – just for one night.

It's oddly quiet in his room. You'd scuttled right into the bathroom the moment you'd picked him up from practise, complaining that you needed to shower before you commenced your usual shared evenings. Jeongguk had just nodded, quiet and mulling, his eyes absent. It had made something twist in your gut. The whole entire day, from the moment you woke up to right now Jeongguk had not mentioned one thing about your anniversary – not even a text or a bouquet no matter how subtly you hinted. It hurt, but it was proof Chayoung was right. And perhaps the only think that could fix this ship before it sunk was her stupid, stupid idea.

You can only stare at yourself in brief swift glances, grimacing every time you catch the reflection of those white ears standing at attention on top of your head. The fluffy tail attached to the back of the costume was making your butt itch too. Even with those criticisms you knew deep down that you looked good... Surprisingly so. The body of the costume was black satin, shimmering under the luminescence of the bathroom lights. It fit perfect over each curve and roll, hugging your waist just right. Coupled with a pair of fishnets and the fact that your boobs looked exceptionally great today (perks of ovulating) you were a sight to behold.

So even if Chayoung is irritating as hell you had to give some props to her.

"Y/N?" The knock that follows it startles you, sending you lurching forward hard enough that your hip bangs against the counter-top.

"Y-yes?"

"Are you okay?" He sounds tired through the wood, weathered away despite his concerns.

"Hmm? Yes, I'm good–I'm good. Just give me a sec."

A pause, you hope you locked the door because normally Jeongguk would have barged in not bothering to knock.

"Okay. Hurry up though I'm hungry and I ordered food. It's here and if you don't come out I'll eat it all."

"Already? It's here?" God, how are you going to disrupt Jeongguk's chicken nights with a playboy bunny costume?

He makes a noncommittal noise. "Yep. So hurry, I'll really eat all of this if you don't come out soon."

The handle burns your palm when you finally grip it, tummy swimming like you've chugged a series of vodka shots. Jeongguk should like this, right? He calls you bunny all the time, even Chayoung had noticed it (hence the horrifying costume you were currently donning). So wouldn’t he like it? And it was a cute little anniversary surprise, at least you were doing something unlike Jeongguk.

You take in one deep last breath, heart pounding in your head, before you twist and handle and swing the door open, a forced sneaky smile slipping onto your lips.

It falls right off the moment your eyes land on Jeongguk's bedroom.

Either he's the fucking Flash or you've been camped in the bathroom for too long because somehow he's managed to turn his messy room into a perfect romantic dinner spot. He's got the lights turned on to a low rouge, lit candles scattered around the place (which is a fire hazard but the warmth blossoming in your heart is ignoring that), a couple cushions on the floor flanking a heart shaped picnic basket where you dinner presumably resides. And then you glance down, something bright bursting in your chest when you see the red petals lining your path from the bathroom right to the picnic set up.

His back is turned to you, his phone in hand which he abruptly presses on. A melody fills the room a moment later, the song low and familiar. You know that song, that's your song.

Jeon Jeongguk will be the death of you.

"Now if–fucking hell." Jeongguk turns before you can stop him, the grin on his lips evaporating when his gaze lands on you

Oh. Oh. You wilt in a second, floundering against the bathroom door frame in a attempt to hide you bare (and bunny costume covered) body.

The silence that follows is unbearable, sinking deep into your gut as guilt rises to the surface. Jeongguk planned all of this and all you did was wear a stupid sexy costume.

"I–" You start, but his brain must of started working at the same time as yours because he catches that sentence with his own statement.

"You–" It's coated with disbelief, and your tongue gets caught in your throat when he exhales heavily, head falling into his hand. You watch with a sore heart as his fingers comb through the loose chestnut curls, tugging and yanking at his scalp as if his brain was falling to pieces.

"Jeongguk," you finally murmur, meekly padding forward, the shame you feel eating you inside out. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin this. I'll change just give me a second."

His head snaps up when you say that, gaze sharp, almost terrifying as he surveys. "Why should you change?"

"W-what?"

"I said," he rises then, slowly moving forward as if not to startle you, his eyes never straying from your body. "Why should you change?"

"Because I look dumb," you return. "And I ruined your great anniversary surprise with my stupid one."

You only notice it then, how his jaw ticks, his head tilting to the side slow. Like he's holding himself back.

"You think you look dumb?" The question itself is innocent but the tone Jeongguk delivers it in is not. You can feel the words in your throat clumping together the longer he looks at you like that, his doe eyes different – dark and spilling with something that has you quivering, your eyes shifting away.

"Answer my question." A firm but gentle hand on your chin, guiding your gaze back to his.

"Yes." It's silent in his room, the low hum of the song bleeding into the thumping of your heart against your ribs.

"Why would my baby look dumb wearing a bunny costume? Huh? It's fitting actually, since you are my bunny."

"Yeah," you try and lighten it was a small laugh, noting the way Jeongguk is staring at your lips. "But this was dumb anniversary surprise. Yours is much better."

You see it click in his head then, like he wasn't hearing a single word you were saying before.

"You did this for me?" Jeongguk questions, eyes dipping to your chest.

"Obviously, who else would I do this for."

"No–I meant, this, this is for me? This was meant to be a surprise for me?"

"Yes," you repeat. "I'd do anything for you. Now let me take this silly thing off so we can have dinner first." You twist away then, but Jeongguk snatches you right back, your frame colliding with his solid chest, firm massive arms holding you in place. The squeak that erupts from your lips lands into tight air, a sudden tension thrumming in your veins. Jeongguk's hard against your ass, erection grazing the downy tail attached to the base of the costume. There's a palm placed steady around your neck, trapping you against his while his other hand idly explores, sparking little fires along your skin as it journeys from your chest down to your stomach before settling right between your thighs.

There's nothing in your head except how massive he feels behind you, wandering hand gentle but eager a certain roughness appearing when his lithe fingers press through the fabric, toying with your clothed clit. It's a promise for what's to come, judging by the quiet groan that melts into your skin from his throat as his hips buck into you.

"You don't know what you do to me do you?" It's whispered softly, mimicking the ginger kiss he places on your hollow of your throat.

If you could think sensible words you would speak but right now everything is loud and roaring and words feel to heavy for your tongue. So you hum instead, whimpering when his fingertips circle your clit.

You can feel the smile on his lips. Hear it in what he says next.

"I should show you then, shouldn't I?"

#ask #anon #au: jock!jaykay #ehhhhh #well!!#jungkook x reader #:3 #i hope u lik dis #not edited of course i wrote dis rn

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honeyhan-123 · 4 years

Text

The Monster In Plain Sight

Summary: Steve’s been slowly biding his time, playing the role of the perfect Captain America, but now he’s sick of playing and he’s going to take what he wants.

Warnings: Non-con, Dark! Steve, Steve is a serial rapist, somnophilia, forced exhibitionism, breeding kink, use of the word Daddy. If any of these makes you uncomfortable please do not read.

Word Count: 2.1k

AN: Ooop, I can’t believe I’m actually posting for the first time in nearly three months. Please be gentle <3

Also I would like to thank everyone on the dark group chat for encouraging me to keep on going with this idea. It didn’t quite turn out as dark as I thought it would but you guys gave me the incentive to keep on going so thank you <3

My Masterlist

He was hard. Achingly hard. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like this, this desperate for release but he knew he had to take his time. He had to relish in every single second he could get. He doubted he would get another chance and so he had to make this one count.

The sleeping pills he had slipped into your wine at dinner were obviously working as you barely twitched as he slid your bedroom door open. It had almost been too easy to get his way. All he had to do was move in next door and play his usual role. No one would ever suspect The Captain America of the sinful acts that he was about to do, that he had done numerous times.

But even as he watched you sleep, he knew something about this time was different. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. Maybe it was because unlike his usual victims he had actually made contact with you. He had never been so bold before. Usually there was always a camera lens separating him from his victims. But not this time. Not with you.

He slithered over to the vanity opposite your bed, setting up his tripod with hasty fingers. He double checked the view point, making sure that the entire bed was in frame. He knew he wouldn’t forget a moment of what was about to happen but still, he wanted the momentos. The physical reminders. He pulled the sheets back from your unconscious body and relished in the way your nipples hardened at once as they met the cool night air.

It was only at times like this when he could stop acting. When he could truly be himself. For these brief hours he could be who he was, not who the world thought him to be.

He slid one hand up underneath the silk nighty you wore and cupped your tit as his other hand dipped into his already open pants. It was a relief to feel the cool breeze on his hot pulsating length and even better when he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped your fingers around it. Slowly he moved your hand up and down, a low groan tumbling from his lips. Your dainty fingers felt amazing wrapped around him, far better than his own, but he longed for more.

With a final tweak of your nipples, he let his hand slide town along your stomach and towards the lace that covered your mound. He cupped it through the scanty material, pushing the fabric into your lips as he felt you up. He couldn’t wait to be inside you, to have you wrapped around him like a vice.

Getting you out of the nighty without jostling your body too much was a little difficult. Perhaps he should have cut it open, that would have fitted better with his plan should you awake. Ridding you of your panties was far easier and the sight that met him was beautiful.

Sure he had camped out on your fire escape multiple times, watching as you dressed or prepared for a shower. But even then you had always been quick to recover yourself, as if you knew he was outside, watching with a hand wrapped around himself. Now however, he had you exactly as he wanted and he could take as long as he needed.

Whipping out his phone, he made sure to capture all your best angles. He wanted your body to be immortalised forever so desperately that he even risked turning the flash on. He didn’t want to miss a single curve. When he felt as though he had enough pictures to last a lifetime, he moved onto stage two and trailed a hand up your calf.

He kept his touch light for the most part until he reached in between your thighs. Steve couldn’t help the guttural sound that came out of his mouth as he parted your thighs, showing off the wetness that drenched your pussy lips. He had barely touched you and yet you were practically soaking the sheets. You must need it bad and who was he to refuse a woman in need?

He wondered briefly what was going through your mind as he played with your slick. Were you dreaming of him? Of him doing these things to you? Of him making your body feel this way?

He sure hoped so.

He wanted you to know it was him. That he had crept in here after dark and filmed himself while he took you however he saw fit.

Deep down he knew he could never allow that to happen. That you could never know. It would be a PR nightmare and his days of taking whatever he wanted would be over. The only reconciliation in his mind was that if everything went according to plan, maybe this wouldn’t have to be a one off like all the others. Maybe he would purposely wake you up? He could make it seem like whoever had done those depraved things to your body had got away and it would only be natural that you would seek comfort with him, your supposed hero.

A melodic whimper filled his ears as he swirled a finger around your bundle of nerves, pulling him back into the moment. Even unconscious you were so reactive. So desperate. His nimble fingers faced no resistance as he pushed inside, swirling them along your inner walls.

Steve doubted that you needed any more work up before he satisfied himself. You were just that needy. So without a moment's hesitation, he pulled his fingers from you and licked them clean.

You tasted so sweet, just like he knew you would. A part of him wanted to bury his face between your thighs and stay like that forever but the aching in his cock reminded him of why he was really here. He needed to fuck.

It had been far too long since his last time, a month, maybe more. He had spent so much time following your every step that he hadn’t gotten the chance to find anyone to satiate his needs. Plus, the last time he had it had been a little disappointing if he was being honest with himself. He had cummed, multiple times but instead of the usual calmness and serenity that filled him after a session, he just felt hollow and empty.

He had known it was because she wasn’t you. Her pleas for him to stop were wrong, far too shrill for your sweet voice. He ached to hear you plead with him to stop, to hear to cry out for help. His gut twisted in the best way just imagining it but he would have to content himself with just your body tonight.

He crawled onto the bed, spreading your thighs with his hips as he lined himself up at your entrance. He paused, just briefly to look over at the camera, giving his future self a devious smirk before casting his eyes back to your face. He didn’t want to miss any of your body’s reactions to him.

He felt like he was coming home as he slid inside, forcing his entire length into your tight channel. Your warm velvet walls gripping him like a vice. It was nice. So nice that he just wanted to stay here, his cock buried deep inside of you for all of time.

‘Fuck baby, you’re griping me so tight.’ He couldn’t help the words as they fell from his lips and he hoped that you would register them, at least subconsciously.

Without any more hesitation he pulled back out, leaving just the tip before slamming all the way back home. Perhaps he wasn’t being as careful as he should have due to the circumstances but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He just wanted to mark you as his and if you felt him in the morning, even better.

His pace was punishing as he thrusted his hips wildly, his hands groping both your tits. He toyed with the pert buds as your walls fluttered around him, a soft and delicate moan falling from your lips. The sound made him grateful he had invested in the extra strength microphone for the camera. He didn’t want to miss a thing.

‘You’re just so desperate aren’t you baby? You just need it so bad. Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna give it to you, just how you want it.’ He pushed your legs up, over his shoulders as he pushed even deeper inside of you. He could see the faint bulge of himself inside of you with every thrust and he imagined it going straight into your womb. The idea of his seed taking root inside of you did things to Steve that he had never known possible and suddenly he wanted it. He wanted it all.

He had always made sure to pull out because any child would be able to be traced back to him but the idea of you, round and full with his child… It was too good a vision to pass up.

His cock throbbed in need. The need to feel your velvety walls squeeze him, the need to fill you to the brim. His hand dropped down to where your bodies were connected, finding your little bud with ease. He swirled his finger in your slick and relished in the corresponding moan that came out of your lips.

‘C’mon baby, I know you wanna cum for me. I know you wanna be a good girl for me.’ His voice was throaty as he whispered into your ear, his ministrations on your clit never ceasing. He felt the familiar squeeze of velvety walls and he knew you were close.

‘That’s it baby, be a good girl for Daddy. Cum for me baby. Cum on Daddy’s big thick cock.’ He knew his words had taken affect as almost immediately he felt the pulsating of your walls, gripping him tight as you came. The sound of your pleasure was almost drowned out by his own low groan. ‘Fuck baby, milking me so tight. Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum inside you, gonna fill you with my seed. You want that don’t you? You need it.’

Steve could barely control himself as he felt his balls pull up, his seed spilling inside of you in hot spurts. He allowed your legs to fall down his shoulders as he collapsed on top of you, trying to catch his breath.

‘Fuck baby, that was so good, so fucking good.’ His words were slurred, his heart still racing inside his chest. He felt the familiar pull in his gut as he started to harden again and he was about to start taking you again when he heard a soft mumble get caught in your throat.

He froze, still completely encased in you, unsure of what to do. If you opened your eyes you would know immediately what had happened and he probably wouldn’t get a second chance without resorting to drastic measures.

A moment passed, and then two and your eyes still remained firmly shut and Steve let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps he shouldn’t go for round two right now. There was always tomorrow night, and the next night and the next. He could hold back for now.

Slowly he pulled his aching cock from you, watching in awe as a little of his cum seeped from your swollen lips. He gently scooped it up before pushing his fingers back inside. He didn’t want a drop to go to waste.

He pulled the camera off the tripod and carried back to the bed, giving your body a loving once over with the lens before putting himself back into frame as he knelt by your head. ‘Y/N L/N, twenty-first of September. Rating, ten out of ten. I will be coming back for seconds.’ With one last pan down your body, focussing on your cum soaked lips, he started getting redressed. He hated to leave you, but he knew he must. You couldn’t know that it was him doing these sinful acts with you, not if he wanted more.

He grabbed the notebook on your bedside table and turning to a new page he began to write with his non-dominant hand.

Thank you so much for last night baby. I can’t wait to see you again.

He placed the note on your pillow and pushed his lips against yours, sweeping his tongue around your entire mouth and drinking in your taste. It was with extreme regret that he left, but he knew he would be seeing you in a couple of hours. He would make sure he was the first person to see you in the morning. He would hold you in his arms and comfort you as you asked him for help, and he would give it to you.

And so much more.

Tags will be added in a reblog

Part Two

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Thanks for reading <3

#steve rogers #dark Steve #steve rogers x reader #captain america #marvel #dark!Steve #dark! captain america #non-con #somnophilia

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blue-bird-kny · 3 years

Text

This took way to many days to write for absolutely no reason, but I liked it in the end so please, enjoy~Amanda

Warnings: N/a

Words: 2.4k+

↳{Fluffy first baths together are nothing short of what you’d expect with Inosuke}

The gentle pitter-patter of water droplets drizzling down bamboo shoots and swaying green leaves filled the otherwise quiet space. The welcoming scent of dew and greenery danced through the night air as you overlooked the outdoor bathing area, “absolutely perfect” you thought as your muscles cried in despair. You, along with your team of idiots and sweet Nezuko, had walked miles in search of a home bearing the Wisteria crest, everyone in desperate need of some rest, repair, and (hopefully) lots of delicious food. “Come in, young child, as weary as you may be, your body needs food to begin the healing process” a grainy voice beckoned. An elderly woman, just barely 5 feet wrapped in purple with shimmering silver hair, waited patiently beside the open door, “I think my husband was too excited to greet you all because he got carried away and made far too much food” she continued. “Oh don’t worry, my boys are very capable of eating you out of house and home, especially my boyfriend” you giggled while climbing the wooden steps to meet her.

You walked side by side to the dining room, the smell of beef stew and rice already reaching you, “Thanks again, to you and your husband, we’ve spent weeks running around and I know we desperately needed the break” she chuckled, “No need child, my husband misses the thrill of battle even in his old age, so we are thrilled to have you.” your eyes widened slightly but before you could ask the shorter woman of her husband's past, a loud crash could be heard behind the thin sliding door. Behind its papery protection was a scene that couldn’t be anymore hilarious; wrestling on the floor was an older man, thick and burley with round rims sliding down the bump of his nose, hovering over a wailing Zenitsu whose body was being forced into a backbend with his head held tightly in a choke-hold by the man’s hairy arms. Tanjiro stood beside the duo desperately trying to pull his friend out from under the other, trying to talk over the hefty laughter and screaming, while Inosuke stood cheering the man on as if this were some sort of cage fight.

You could feel the twitch in your eye act up, ready to pull them apart but before you could open your mouth the elderly woman cleared her throat, causing the wild bunch to freeze. Her husband's eyes slowly fell on hers as fear overcame them and as for the other three, they couldn’t help but shiver at the dead set look on yours. “What’s going on here?” the women commanded, her steel set tone sending the group scrambling into seated positions as she prowled into the room- you followed slowly behind her. Tanjiro croaked first, “W-well Mr.Shimura was telling us about his days in the force and he just wanted to show us some of his, uh, moves'' Tanjiro's voice wavered a bit at the end, not sure if ‘moves’ was the right way to describe assault. “Y/n! Please don’t let this man torture me anymore, he’s crazy!” the blonde rushed to your side with teary eyes and a tight grip on your arm. The women pulled her large husband up by his ear, “Don’t worry, you children enjoy your food, my husband,” she tugged on the lobe for emphasis, “and I will be off to bed” she turned to you, “I assume you’ll be able to find the bathing area and your room?” “Of course” you assured. The moment the couple became shadows behind the door, you could hear the wife’s grumbling- you couldn’t help but chuckle.

Unsettled by the silence, you turned to find all eyes on you, waiting for a reprimand you had no intention of delivering, “Oh ease up, eat before the food gets cold'' a collective sigh could be heard around the table, your hand gentle releasing the part of Zenitsu that was still clinging your clothes. The spot open next to Inosuke was as inviting as the mouth-watering scent of a hot meal that had been calling your name since further down the hallways. Your fingers faintly fell on the tuft of your boyfriend's hair, ruffling them a bit, before diving into your own bowl of rice and soup. While Inosuke felt your small act of affection and craved it a bit more, he only offered a messy smile as he shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth.

Ceramic dishes once filled with hand-cooked deliciousness were now cleaned empty, stacked into small towers all across the wooden table in some sort of toppling city. The room was almost empty too, Zenitsu and Tanjiro both eager to wash the wear away and to finally allow themselves to be consumed by uninterrupted dreams, had already taken off for the night. “I’m going to die,” the bloated heap on the floor cried, his duo-toned hair sprawled out around him and his robe strewn on the ground. You laughed, “No, Inosuke, you aren’t going to die” you laid on the carpet beside him, propped up by one elbow. As the man heaved and sighed as if he were going into labor, your nose caught a whiff of something salty and musty and earthy and gross, “I swear if you don’t go shower right now, my eyes are going to melt from my skull” you complained nasally as you pinched your nostrils shut; You were met with only louder moaning and heaving. “C’mon everyone else already-” you stopped yourself short, an idea too good to pass up crossing your mind. “Since everyone else is already tucked away, why don’t we bath together?” before you could even finish the question, Inosuke sat up faster than light, his eyes challenging yours as if saying “Are you playing me?”. “We never get to do anything just us so if you're up for it, I’m down” you concluded slightly smug as he clung to each word you uttered like a puppy waiting for a treat. You stood to leave, crouching down once more to balance your fingers below his chin, forcing him to face you, “But, no funny business”.

You didn’t even have to look to see Inosuke was following, his second set of steps echoing yours as if they were the thunder that follows lighting; two things equally as powerful, yet relied on the other for strength. Again, you were greeted by the soft flow of water streaming into the natural spring, the brilliant moonlight above lighting the large basin carved from polished rock that sat in the middle of the space. “Turn around” you asked, to which Inosuke surprisingly compiled too with only a tiny grumble. You slid your filthy clothes off layer by layer, the black garments piled together as you tip-toed into the warm water, the steam instantly feeling irresistible on your skin. “I-I’ll close my eyes so you can get in, too” you stuttered, the heavy realization of the intimacy that was to come next, an intimacy that had never been shared before. “Whatever you want, we’ll be naked anyways in the water” Insouke pointed out as he too discarded his smaller pile onto yours, however, you didn’t dare peek before you heard the breaking of water as he climbed in, didn’t dare breathe as he groaned in relief. Slowly, you uncovered your eyes, trained steadily past the demon slayer's face; awkwardly and in unusual silence, you two sat five feet apart, waiting to see who dared to move first.

Well of course it was Inosuke who shuffled through the water first towards you, “You can look at me, ya know” he said with a sort of want in his voice, as if your gaze offered an approval he sought from only you. Whether the pink that painted his skin was from the temperature or the heat of the moment, you couldn’t tell, but you didn’t dwell on it for long because other things piqued your interest. While the number of times you’ve seen Inosuke wear a shirt was almost non-existent, the steam rising from the water altered his scarred chest into something else; it was more chiseled, more tanned, each dip and mark was more perfect, the reflection below somehow glowed in a way that was more than you had every painted Inosuke to be and it took your breath away. “What are ya looking at?” he asked defensively, fidgeting in an almost timid way; it reminded you that you shouldn’t be nervous around him, “You, ya dummy”. He scoffed at your bluntness, grateful to hear the normal bite in your tongue instead of the disgust he feared you’d feel towards him. His stunning pair of green orbs watched as you leaned closer to him, arms stretched as you grew even closer, “What the hel-” he panicked slightly only to be fooled as you grabbed something that was behind him; two bottles waved in front of his face as you teased, “What? Afraid of some soap, piglet?”. He muttered a string of complaints, ‘tease’ and ‘mean’ being the only two you could work out.

You squeezed the white shampoo into your open palm, setting it down somewhere on the edge of the bath, “May I?” you asked, hovering your hands beside his head. He sucked on his teeth before mumbling a raspy “fine”, easing himself between your awaiting limbs. You worked the suds into his scalp, gently massaging his dark roots with the pads of your thumbs before working your way down to bunch his falling strands, lathering them in the floral-scented soap. As you worked to cover every last inch of his scalp in bubbles, Inosuke struggled to keep quiet; his half-lidded eyes fluttered with every circular rub, his mouth slightly agape as he relished in your touch and had to work at suppressing the purrs that threatened to escape his chest like a cat.

“Bend down a little, will ya” you pushed against his head till he was close enough to the water that when he tipped back, his long tresses would be covered. You rinsed his hair gently, taking your time to enjoy this rare chance with your loved one (along with the funny faces you knew he was making). Inosuke wanted to say something, anything would do really, but he just couldn’t put syllables together as if with every trail your fingers followed, you sucked away his ability to think. You had already rid his scalp from the soap, however, you weren’t ready to let go just yet; you ushered him out of the water so you could use your nails to push the soaked strands back, twirling them into a loose bun at the back of his head. Inosuke was so close, he was sure he’d make it out of this without any weird noises but the subtle scratching against his skin was too much for any man. A low rumble emerged from his throat followed by a relieved sigh, “If I knew all it took to tame this wild boar was a few head scratches, I’d have started a long time ago” you giggled, sliding your palms down the length of his neck to rest on his shoulders, “all done”. His brows furrowed at the weight behind his head and the lack thereof on his back, “It’s a bun” you explained, “Yea, well I feel bald” “Don’t knock just yet, it helps keep your hair from your face when you’re fighting, plus I think you look hot with it” you tightened your hold on him for a second as a blush crept its way onto his skin.

“It's getting late, you can get out if you want, I’m going to wash up” you reached for the same bottle of shampoo, tipping it over to collect its contents, but before the suds could touch your skin, Inosuke’s grip caught your wrist. “I’ll do it” he stated firmly, “You don’t have to-” “I’ll do it” he repeated, already taking the bottle. A glop of shampoo slapped against his palm as he rushed to spread it between his two hands. You closed your eyes, ready to be serenaded by his sweet touch when you were quickly reminded of who you were dealing with here- the furthest thing from sweet. Water splashed haphazardly as Inosuke drilled into your skull, roughly kneading your scalp. “Ouch! Stop it! Is that what it felt like to you?! Any harder and I’ll be the bald one!” you yelled, moving away from his hands still hanging above the water. Inosuke shrunk a little, visibly upset as he looked to his right at nothing specific. Instantly regretting your reaction, you acted to fix the situation, “Here” you gently placed his thick fingers against your scalp once again this time placing yours above his, easing them into a gentle, rhythmic massage. “See,” you sighed, “not everything in life is a race.”

Inosuke looked at the way your face fell at the feel of his fingers gently working against you, he almost had to double-take to make sure it was his touch that was providing you so much pleasure- in fact, it sort of inflated his already bulging ego. Although he spent less time washing and rinsing your hair as you had hoped (you could have sat there for hours) the water was growing cooler and time was nipping at both your ankles, reminding you of the sleep you oh so needed. Washed and feeling refreshed, you reached for his shoulders, using them to glide through the water until your chest was pressed against his, becoming more familiar with the feel of his warmth against yours. Your arms dangled over his shoulders with your head buried in his neck, while his large palms found themselves holding your waist, “this was fun” you whispered into his skin. Inosuke grunted, exhaustion creeping up on him too. “Let go to bed” you yawned ready to detach yourself reluctantly from the strong man when you were suddenly carried above the water, exposed and shivering you wrapped your legs instinctively around him. “What are you doing?” you asked embarrassed and flushed red. A wide grin overtook his face as he held you tighter, “Figured you’d be too weak to walk after I almost put you to bed with my magical fingers” he replied as he trudged through the water and out the bath, two towels already waiting to dry your skin.

Later that night as you both lay covered in cotton robes and silk sheets surrounded by the gentle buzz of the others snoring around the room, together on one futon with eyelids as heavy as stones, something occurred to you. “Hey babe?” you whispered, getting a half grunt in response, “you never took that bun out, did you?” the arm that was holding you securely to his side flicked you gently, “hush women” he breathed. You chuckled low, snuggling closer into Inosuke's warmth, falling effortlessly into a peaceful sleep.

Thank you~

Masterlist

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kny #kny x reader #inosuke #inosuke x reader #inosuke hashibira

163 notes · View notes

navegandoaciegas · 4 years

Text

no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: catholic priest!Bucky, virgin!Bucky, desecrating thoughts and actions, explicit language, smut, consensual sexual acts, mentions of loss of virginity, slight innocence and religious kinks (nothing disturbing), oral sex, fingering, masturbation, sex in a public (and sacred) place.

Summary: As punishment for your sinful behavior, your parents send you to your aunt’s house in the middle of nowhere, in hope you’ll redeem yourself. The punishment quickly backfires when you take an interest in the local (and handsome) priest, and you manage to corrupt his pure soul.

A/N: I was in a priest!Bucky mood this morning and I wrote this for @saiyanprincessswanie writing challenge. I chose prompt 17 and the ‘opposites attract’ trope. I hope you like this!

Filth and happy ending ‘cause I’m a sap. Take me to church by Hozier inspired this.

This is not a dark story and both reader and Bucky are consenting adults. Fyi, catholic priests can’t marry, and they change their name when they are ordained. We’ll pretend James is the name he took as priest.

You look over your shoulder to check if anyone’s around and knock on the backdoor of the church, waiting for your lover to usher you inside. The sinful secrecy of it all, the rush of excitement, your love for all that’s forbidden: you’ve never felt more alive.

Being forced to spend the summer in the middle of nowhere is not the way you expected your senior year of college to end, but not all evil comes to harm, and in this quiet little town, you’ve become quite interested in the local priest. In your defence, boredom is the root of all evil, and in your case, evil happens to make you horny and prone to making bad decisions, and Father James is young and handsome, so it was only a matter of time before he gave in the temptation of the flesh and you found yourself fucked against the altar.

Ordained or not, he’s only a man after all.

The confessional is dark and suffocating; behind the wooden screen, the priest is all ears.

Muscle memory kicks in when you do the sign of the cross and begin to speak.

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.” you recite the formula that’s been ingrained in your mind since you were old enough to need it, “My last confession was seven years ago.”

You mentally curse your parents for still having the authority to send you to Bumfuck Nowhere, Alabama, and your aunt for forcing you to attend church and confess your sins.

It will be good for your soul, they said, New York is corrupting you.

You suppose it’s only fair that your good catholic parents would react so drastically; they wanted to surprise you in your new apartment and drove all the way from Rhode Island to New York, only to find your piano tutor buried balls deep inside of you. Lord knows what they’d do if they knew you’ve lost your purity long before that, with one of the good catholic girls in your private boarding school. Extramarital sex, with a woman at that! They’d probably have a meltdown, drag your to a cloistered convent and lock you there for life.

You don’t wait for the priest to acknowledge you and start talking.

“You know Father, I found a handy dandy little list of all the sins you’re supposed to confess to and I checked them. I’ll read it to you. Let’s see.” you clear your throat, “So, I use artificial birth control, I broke a couple of promises, including the one to wait for marriage, I can be kind of blasphemous sometimes, but you see, I spent six months abroad in Italy last year and the kids there taught me all sorts of ways to disrespect the Lord, they have so many, and once those things get stuck in your brain... what can you do, they just stick in there, you don’t even want to say them but they become part of your vocabulary.” you continue uninterrupted, “Anyways, my parents caught me in the act with a man, so I guess we have ‘dishonoring family’ too. Underage drinking as a kid, a lot of that. Drugs sometimes, nothing major, ya know, I don’t do coke or nothing. Gossiping, impure thoughts, God-”

He interrupts you clearing his throat.

“Sorry. See? I don’t even do it on purpose. As I was saying, I love those. Lying... not a whole lot to be honest; to my parents, mostly. Haven’t prayed in a good 10 years. Masturbation, did I mention that? Watched porn a couple of times, ‘m not a big fan if I’m being honest, but to each their own. Oh, and premarital sex, a ton of that. Had an orgy once, not too fond of those either. Too many limbs.”

There’s a lot to unpack here, so you give him a moment to ponder his thoughts. He stays silent for a while, and when he speaks his voice is not at all what you expected it to be. He’s soft spoken yet commanding, and sounds surprisingly young.

“Anything else you can remember?”

“Well of course, the cherry on top, my own first class ticket to hell.” you say, not as cheerful as before, repeating the exact words you’ve been taught for years, “God gave me free will and I used it to commit homosexual acts, Father. Multiple times.”

You let the words hang in the stuffy air of the confessional; you don’t know what to expect from the priest, to be honest. Last time you admitted to thinking of a girl to a religious figure, Sister Theresa told you you’d never have to act on your impulses, or you’d burn in hell for it. You were 12.

“You think that’s worse than the rest?”

“Not me, no, I don’t.”

He hums thoughtfully. “What makes you do the things you do?” he asks, and you don’t feel any of the judgment you were expecting, only genuine curiosity.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me to repent for my sins?” you reply, equally as curious.

“Is absolution what you’re seeking?”

You snort, shaking your head. “I’m not looking for forgiveness, Father, and I’m way past asking for permission.”

“Then why are you here?”

“My aunt forced me.”

It’s his turn to snort this time. “You don’t seem the type to follow orders blindly.”

You admit the guy’s got a point. “I guess… I don’t know. I felt the need to. It feels nice, talking to someone. I feel lonely a lot, and it’s easier to talk to strangers. And this is cheaper than therapy, so that’s a bonus. Really, I just need to vent.”

“Do you regret any of your choices?” he says, after a while.

“Not the ones I confessed to.” you admit, trying to discern the priest’s figure behind the screen.

“What is it, then?”

“You know, you’re kinda chill for a priest from Alabama, I gotta give it to you.” you respond, dodging his question.

“Thanks, it’s probably because I’m from Brooklyn.”

“What the hell-”

“Language.”

“Sorry. Why would someone move from Brooklyn to this place?”

“Vocation.”

“I see.”

It’s silent again, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable.

“You should come to the parish sometimes. We have meetings, we sing, we eat together, the children play football and the young adults talk about what it means to be a Catholic in the modern world. It may ease your mind about a lot of worries and misconceptions you might have.”

You contemplate on his words: it wouldn’t hurt, would it? It’s not like you’ve got a whole lot going on here; and you might as well find yourself a devoted man or woman to pass time.

“I might.”, you finally respond, not willing to give him the satisfaction, and stand from the chair. “I’ll see you around, Father.”

“May God give you peace, miss.”

“Amen.”

“What took you so long?” James asks, grunting when you pull on his hair.

“My aunt asked me to make lunch for her husband, as if he couldn’t do it his damn self.” you respond, and suck on his bottom lip, “Missed me?”

“Always.”

You coo, “My eager boy.”

He’s sitting on his office chair and you’re straddling his lap, grinding your hips on him and feeling his arousal grow. You’re burning up, panties damp and a familiar coil in your core. You don’t know what excites you the most: being responsible for the corruption of such pure soul, the forbidden aspect of fucking a Catholic priest, or the possibility of someone walking in on you. Your walls flutter when you imagine the scandal that this affair would create.

You pull him closer, tugging on his white collar, and he breaks the kiss. His eyes are black and glossed over, lips swollen, cheeks red, but there’s something like worry in eyes.

“Do you love me?” he asks quietly, in the soft voice you adore.

“Of course I do, you know that.”

You fall on your knees and fumble with the zipper of his black pants.

“Would you love me if I didn’t have this collar?” he stops your hands with his, “Would you still love me if I wasn’t this?”, he gestures to his sacred attire.

You pause your actions and search his eyes. Where is this coming from?

“Yes, I’d love you anyways, I’ll always love you.”

A small, shy smile breaks on his face. He lifts you up and makes you sit on his desk.

“I- I w-want to try something,” he begins with a stutter, “I remember hearing some kids back when I was in school talk about it.”

You cock your head to the side, observing carefully as he sits back down on the chair and parts your legs. He lowers his head and begins peppering the inner skin of your thighs with open mouthed kisses. Oh-.

“James, you don’t have to do this.” you try to tell him, but he’s already moving your panties to the side.

He stares entranced between your legs; he’s never been this bold, never watched you there. “You’re so pretty, I want to kiss you here.”

You feel a finger tease your entrance and dip in. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, and when he licks a strip of your dripping cunt, you feel like you could burst. He delves in your glistening folds, tongue swirling around as if he was kissing your mouth, and your hips jerk forward when he crooks a couple of fingers inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes the coil in your belly grow tighter.

You throw your head back and your eyes fall on the cross behind you. You are very much past forgiveness at this point, you muse, and that makes this all the more exciting.

You’re writhing under his touch, completely at his mercy. You grab the back of his neck and bring his face upward so that his mouth comes in contact with your clit.

“Suck there.” you demand in a raspy voice, rocking your hips and fucking yourself on his fingers. “Good boy.” you praise when he closes his mouth around your bud and begins sucking and lapping on it. “Yes, oh my God, fuck, faster.”

James obeys and jerks the fingers inside of you, the vibration and his tongue enough to make the knot in your core unravel and pleasure release in jolts, shooting from your center to the rest of your body; you slap a hand on your mouth to suppress wanton moans as your hips twitch involuntarily and your toes curl. He rides you though your orgasm until you’re too sensitive to handle his face on you.

When you look down, you find him, face wet in your arousal, eyes half lidded.

“Did I do well?” he asks full of hope, still clinging to your legs and nuzzling your thigh.

“You did amazing, sweet boy.”

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.”

Hearing your sultry voice, he chokes on air behind the screen and clears his throat, trying to keep the same composure he always seems to loose when you’re around.

“I got friendly with a man, you see, a man of church.” you begin in a teasing tone, “He kissed me, and I didn’t pull back. I let him roam his hands all over my body, Father, and then I corrupted him.”, You lick a couple of fingers and dip them in your mouth, then you release them with a popping sound and slowly slip them in your panties. You push a finger in your already wet core, smearing arousal around and teasing your clit, slow at first. “You should have seen how innocent he looked, Father. He said he’s never been touched like that. A virgin. I’ve never been with a virgin before.” you continue, almost moaning the last part as you slide three fingers in and out of you and tease your bud with your thumb, “He didn’t even know I could please him with my mouth, so I took him in and I sucked him off.” You’re panting, hand furiously circling your clit. You hear Bucky’s ragged breath behind the screen. “He moaned so loud, F-F-Father, he c-came so quick. And I swallowed it all, because you can’t let a single drop of seed g-go to w-waste, can you?” you whimper, feeling an orgasm build up.

You’re fueled by his suppressed grunts and the lewd sounds of him touching himself.

“I don’t come for absolution Father, because I’d do it all again.” you breathe at last, letting pleasure run through your every nerve, setting you ablaze.

Behind the screen, Father James paints his hand and black shirt in white spurts, shame and pleasure fighting eachother in his mind.

You haven’t moved yet, legs parted, trying to catch your breath, and James is still clinging onto you.

You don’t know how it happened.

It started with boredom, with a wish to fuck the pretty priest, but you’ve caught feelings now, and in three weeks you’ll have to get back to New York, where a job and a new apartment await you.

At least your aunt and your parents are happy about your redemption: you’ve been going to church everyday. They don’t need to know you’ve spent most time on your knees or on your back.

But you don’t want to think about it now; you can’t let sadness take over and ruin these moments when James is only yours. Your love is on borrowed time, and you intend to make the most out of it.

“Do you want to fuck me, my love? You want me to come all over your pretty cock, yes? You want to fill me up with your cum?” you whisper in his ear, amused at the way he blushes.

“Please.” he whines, palming his cock through his briefs.

“Please what, sweet boy?”

“Please let me-” he interrupts himself.

“Let me what?”

He mumbles something incomprehensible.

“Can’t hear you.” you tease him, grabbing his chin and tilting his face up.

“Let me make love to you.”

You let out a chuckle and shake your head fondly. This man has had you bent over his desk, in the confessional, behind the altar, on the benches where the devoted Catholics of this town attend mass, and yet he can’t bring himself to talk crudely.

You pull on his hair so he stands, and you kiss him ravenously, letting your hands roam over his lean body, the taste of his lips permanently etched in the back of your mind. You don’t want to forget a thing, so you commit to mind each of his little noises, the way his tongue swirls around yours, the soft caresses of his hands.

Clothes discarded in a blur, the room is filled with your moan and his grunts. He pounds into you like a desperate man, clinging onto you with a bruising touch, holding you impossibly close as if you were about to slip through his fingers. And in a way, you are.

When James makes love to you the world disappears and there’s no judgement, no church. He’s not a priest, you’re not a sinner; he’s not pure, you’re not sick.

It’s just you and him, united in one body. Just a man and a woman being one in the flesh.

His thrusts become sloppier, his breathing labored. He brings a hand on your clit and presses on it. He comes inside of you, painting your walls, and the feeling of his swollen cock inside you and his cum filling you up are enough to trigger your release too, your walls clenching on him and milking every last drop.

You’re exhausted, panting in each other’s embrace.

There’s no sin when you’re like this; you’re no longer the devil to his holy water.

There’s only love.

James’ desk in his office is dark and wide, with mahogany panels on all three sides except the one he sits at. So when Ms. Lee, the adorable elderly lady that organizes the monthly fundraising events for charity, knocks on the door as you’re bouncing on James’ cock, all you have to do is crouch down and disappear under the table.

“Good evening, Father James.” She greets him cheerfully.

You hear the tapping of her heels until she plops down on the guests chair.

“Good evening, Ms. Lee.” he responds in a strained voice, adjusting himself on the chair.

Ms. Lee speaks a lot. She’s talking James’ ear off, blabbering about the next charity event, and you think what better occasion than this one to be an indecent slut.

You slowly massage his thighs, bringing your hands from his knees to his groin, teasing him when you get close to his crotch and retracting.

You watch as his cock swells in front of you, and you bite back a giggle. You hear him suck in a breath when you start pumping his length with both your hands.

“Are you alright, James? You’re looking a little worse for wear.” Ms. Lee asks him worriedly when she sees her priest red and sweaty.

James clears his throat and when he’s about to open his mouth, you lick a strip from base to his leaking tip, and the noise that escapes him is between a moan and a grunt.

“Y-yes, Ms. Lee, I’m fine. Just some food poisoning I think.” he manages to answer, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Poor thing.” she coos, and you take his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around, sucking on the frail skin of under the tip, “Anyways-” she begins again.

James tries to keep his composure, but you sense his distress, and you imagine it must be written all over his face. One hand massages his balls, the other aids your movements as you bob your head up and down, careful not to make a noise. His legs twitch under the table when you push his cock all the way down to your throat, and he makes a strangled noise.

“Sweetie, are you sure you’re fine? You really don’t look like it.” Ms. Lee interjects again, interrupting her story.

“I’m fine ma’am, don’t worry about me.”, he says through gritted teeth, jaw clenched shut so hard he might break his teeth.

You give it all you’ve got until your jaw is aching and your knees are killing you. Your effort pays off when, with one last motion on your hands, James grunts and cums in your throat, hips jerking forward and legs shaking.

He comes so hard that you choke on his release.

“Did you hear it too?” she asks in alert.

“He-hear wh-what?” he stutters, pretending to cough to hide your noises.

“A choking sound?”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about that, just my cough.” he answers, red faced and spent.

“I guess…” she doesn’t sound convinced but lets it go anyways. She could never imagine her sweet priest is getting blown by a city whore under his desk, “I’ll get going then, but please get some rest Father, your holy duties can wait.”

They can indeed, you think, as James yanks you from underneath the table and bends you over the desk, fucking you until you’re crying.

“What makes you do the things you do?” he’s playing with your hair as he asks the question that’s been plaguing him for months, since that first time in the confessional.

You’re in a motel somewhere, two hours away from your town, laying on a bed like two lovers. In this room, you’re not a dirty little secret.

What excited you before, suffocates you now.

You thought you may only like the forbidden, but you find yourself at peace in his arms, that peace you’ve yearned for for 22 years, that peace you could never find, because people like you are born sick, that’s what you’ve been told your whole life.

“If I tell you, will you absolve me?” you ask, basking in his affection.

James is so sweet, so caring. You wish this moment could last forever.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, my love. I’ve sinned too much myself.”

“My bad.” you giggle.

Silence falls on you, and you hum in though, pondering your next words very carefully.

“I don’t do them for any reasons, other than they feel good. It feels good to drink, to smoke, to fuck you, to suck your cock.”, you say, and he blushes in embarrassment, “Or maybe I never got over my teenage phase and I just like doing all the things my parents always told me not to do, who knows. Trauma? Maybe. Spite? Quite possibly. I don’t even know at this point.”

He nods slowly.

He wishes you could see yourself through his eyes, see how perfect you are. In his heart, there’s only love for you, in his mind, no more conflict.

“I do them for you.” he answers, and you smile at him, “And for myself, I guess. I thought I had found my way, but maybe I was wrong.”

You turn to look at him, and bop his nose.

“I’ll always love you, no matter what choice you make. I’ll wait for you if you ask me to.”

But his choice has been made already.

He doesn’t deserve his collar, but hopefully he deserves you.

I’m curious to hear your thoughts. Please, reblog if you liked it and leave a comment. Feedback is always appreciated. 🤍

Priest bucky masterlist

#saiyanprincessswanie 500 followers challenge #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #james barnes x reader #james barnes x you #sebastian stan x reader #james barnes x y/n #priest!bucky

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bloomyagi · 3 years

Text

bewitched (m)

summary: bakugou has always loved you.

pairings: bakugou katsuki x f!reader, hawks x f!reader (nsfw)

genre: characters are aged up, 20+, pro heroes au

warnings: allusions to cheating, angst, porn w/ lots of feelings, shower sex, kinda subby bakugou, he’s basically lovesick n soft for u, keigo is a good birdie, he would never do this irl

length: 3,518

notes: hello! my first bnha fic, please be kind <3 please let me know what you think! i’ve been so obsessed w/ jjk & bnha recently skdjkjf. send help

It comes down softly at first. The droplets whispering against windshields, ghosting across bare arms, a trick of the light. Then a pause, like the darkening clouds are reconsidering their decisions. There is no wind, no anger in the way it pelts down, darkens the concrete. Like resignation, like relief. It soaks bone, sends most civilians packing as they duck under awnings and flee into shops in anticipation of a short-lived flare.

But it is summer, and the rain is welcome as a remedy against the oppressive heat. Many onlookers merely move their belongings closer to avoid the stream, gaze out glass windows longingly. Some find inspiration, others find peace.

You stand in the middle of it all, drenched and unmoving as you watch your lover wrap his arms around his secretary, and you wonder whose mood this pathetic fallacy is expected to reflect as you look across to meet familiar eyes.

He, too, mirrors your stance. Clothes sodden, yet the nature of its designs only lends to plaster themselves closer to his skin. His irises are that bright, burning red. He is not fizzling, heated against the affair before him. Instead, his gaze is trained on you.

There is no fury, no sadness, no emptiness. His gaze is not hollow, it is instead strangely warm. Your chest squeezes, tightening in the way you experience when you read a novel laced in tragedy, that welling feeling of anguish and sorrow.

His hands are shoved in his pockets, and though his eyes remain fastened to you, he makes no step to move closer.

The sky lightens, a thin streak of sun peering through in a solitary beam. The sounds seem to press close again, like a bubble popping in your ear.

The summer storm is tempered as quickly as it appeared, the sound of life—laughter, the splashing of sneakers drowning in newly formed puddles—and the lingering smell of renewed earth and the chirping of birds as they shake off their wings to take flight.

Water drips silently down the pair of gorgeous wings before you. They flutter briefly, flicking off the thin layer that pooled on its surface, before unfurling to fold over her. He pulls her closer, separating only every so often to breathe.

Shameless, is all you think plainly. And you are—ashamed. That feeling catches you by surprise, breath caught in your throat as the feeling expands, takes root in your lungs. It is that hindsight, that disappointment—at yourself—that has you lowering your eyes.

He is still looking at you, even as someone squeals and a crowd gathers, pushing and shoving to press close, stays rooted to his spot, watching you, even as the couple finally break apart, dishevelled—she adjusts her pencil skirt, re-buttons her blouse; he runs a hand through his golden locks, fixes his half-open shirt—and Hawks’ chuckle rings across the street, one arm braced around her waist as he signs autographs and takes photos. She is glowing beside him, all smiles and shrill laughter. Her nails, perfectly manicured and sharp, digs into his chest. He doesn’t even flinch. He likes it.

You stifle a dry laugh. Turning on your heel, you disappear into the thickening crowd.

He himself is being pawed at, hands fawning at his exposed arms, clutching at him like he is fresh off the conveyer belt.

He waits until he can no longer discern your retreating figure before bearing a half-smile at the crowd. He takes the pen that is shoved into his face, and he begins signing autographs.

Time and experience have tempered his constitution. He has accepted his flaws, worked on them until he could proudly stand on the same stage as his—friends. Because that is what they are—these people that have helped him grow, comforted his trauma, stayed with him despite it all. What else could he call them but the very things they are—they are the pillar of his strength. Because of you, I learned I could be strong for the things I care about.

He is not number one. He has no need for such a title, no need for such a goal anymore. He is no longer the brash, easily angered teenager that charged for the strongest.

“I don’t care what they call me, what rank I am, or what they think of me. I only want the power to protect these people. That’s it.” He thinks back to your words.

You are not often solemn. You laughed a lot, the slow-appearing crinkles to the corner of your eyes a physical testament to your innate joy. You liked to take delight in the ordinary things. Perhaps that is what drew him to you—that strength. To shoulder the burden of your chosen role in this society, to have the bravery to smile amongst the suffering.

There was always an unbidden heat that surged in his chest when he thought of you. That odd feeling of a knot tying itself in his stomach when his skin brushed yours. When you fell from the height of a skyscraper, half-conscious from defeating a new breed of nomu, his heart stuttered and leapt in halting beats to throat as he split from his team, their screams for you ringing in his ears, the rush of badump-badump closing in rapidly, pushing his beaten body to its limits, faster, faster, faster—please! Who was he praying to at the time? He was begging anyone who was listening to give him that push—the gap was too big, you were too far, he was too tired, too useless, too broken—he slammed into you with enough force to compel blood up his throat.

He spat it to the side quickly, not bothering to wipe himself clean before he turned to you. The first thing he registered was warmth. You were limp in his hold, on the edge of passing out, exhaustion lining every curve of your face. Your lips quirked, eyes closed.

“Hurts like hell,” you slurred. “Falling from heaven.”

He stared at you, blinking the blood from his lashes.

And then he threw his back and laughed. It was a full-bodied, uproarish laughter. The type that rumbled from his chest. He shook, though he was careful not to jostle you, and you managed a quiet chuckle.

The adrenaline faded from his body, and he hiccupped as he slumped onto the concrete beam behind him. The ice receded from his veins.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” he murmured. It was a quiet plea. Don’t do that ever again, is what he really wanted to say, but how could he? This was the occupational hazard of your shared line of work. This was the risk. His eyes burned, half-lidded as he held you closer.

You couldn’t lift a single limb on your body, so you lean into him.

“No promises.”

It was enough. Your voice was raspy, drained, but there was a sincere lilt to it.

He wanted to say something more, then, but first responders arrived and whisked you separate ways before he could gather his thoughts.

He regrets it, to this day. Perhaps if he had said something then, said something sooner, the scene would have played out differently.

He does not have many regrets, have long resolved to move on from his past and mistakes. “What a useless emotion,” you once told him. “Don’t wallow. Mourn and move on. Do better. That’s what you owe. That is what you are owed.”

But this—this he will always regret.

He finds you on the roof of your penthouse.

“I like it. Being able to see everything from up here.” The first time he’d peered over the edge, he’d been enlisted for furniture rearranging. You handed him a beer, beckoning him over, jerking your head to the scenery below. And it was—breathtaking. You were breathtaking. He hadn’t even bothered to entertain a cursory glance. It was summer then, too, and the evening breeze was light as it brushed your locks back. Lights began to flicker as the sun dipped lower into the horizon. He briefly considered making a similar move.

But moving was a hassle, only further proven by the efforts of today, so he dismissed the thought quickly, taking another swig. He was sweaty, a layer of grime a film over his skin from the manual labour he’d been voluntold for most of the afternoon. It was petty work compared to his—their—day job, but it was still a strangely refreshing workout.

“What are you feeling?” His steps are muted, voice faint. It carries on the back of a shallow gust.

You don’t spare him a look, staring into the distance. You’re sitting, one leg thrown casually over the ledge, the other pulled to your stomach. He’d made an off-hand comment once about adding some railings, but you’d rolled your eyes and pushed him playfully.

Pussy, you called. He chuckled. Like we don’t experience enough life-threatening dangers on a regular basis, he snarked.

All the more reason, then, you shot back. He fell silent then, the pulsing in his throat returning.

He could never really read you. Eyes are the window to the soul. He scoffs internally. Whoever said that must’ve known it was a load of bullshit. Your eyes never said anything. But his—his said everything he couldn’t, and more.

You hum. “Would it be cliché if I said I wasn’t surprised, only disappointed?”

“No.”

“Then I’m disappointed. I had hoped, I suppose, that he would choose differently.”

He tastes the words that I would be enough between, and the sigh of to change him that escapes your lips.

“You knew who he was when you went into this,” he says quietly. No judgement—he is not reminding you of your poor decisions, rather striking a conversation in the same manner one would inquire about the weather.

Quant, you think. And a few years ago, you would have added out of character. But now it is not so—he has grown into himself well.

You tilt your head back. He leans against the wall, arms crossed across that well-built chest of his, shirt straining against the muscle. He’s so tall now—so much taller than anyone had expected him to be. That wild, unruly blond hair of his has remained the same, appearing spiky but soft to the touch. And his eyes—they are gentle but retain the ferocity he is well-known for.

“Yes,” you say after a while. “That is why I am not surprised. But these feelings won’t just disappear overnight because of this.”

He’s quiet for a while, those crimson orbs of his trailing over your expression. You don’t know what he finds, but he must understand your position because he nods.

“I’ll wait for you.”

This—this is a surprise. Somehow, he always manages to surprise you.

“After all this time?” You ask softly.

“Always,” he says quietly.

He leaves, and when you return to the house, you pick up the keys he left on your counter. Twirling them on one finger, you smile to yourself.

Thank you. You know he knows.

“I tried to be the person you wanted me to be,” he says.

“I tried, I really did. But this is who I am, who they made me. I can’t change. I’m sorry,” he says.

He says a lot more, you think, but you’ve long since stopped listening. He knows these are only flimsy barriers that excuse his behaviour. He knows he is not this person. He is not broken, he is worthy of much, much more. He just needs to believe it. They took everything from him. That is what he thinks, how he lives. Like he has no real purpose.

Instead, he is stopped, wings flaring as you reach for him. You smell familiar, and that ache in his heart deepens. He will forever regret losing you, but you deserve more. He is not good for you, and he is not your responsibility. His growth is his obligation. Perhaps, when he is ready, he will find you again.

But by then, he thinks, burying his face into your shoulder, you will have already chosen differently.

“I love you, baby bird. I will always love you,” he presses these words against your neck in a soft whisper, voice cracking, like a prayer, he tries to sear his truth into your skin. He tastes salt on his tongue.

And, between it all, he traces I’m sorry.

You squeeze him once.

You know.

“Hey.”

You’re uncharacteristically shy, cheeks puffing in that sweet smile of yours.

That sharp, familiar warmth blooms in his chest at the sight of you perched on the arm of his leather couch. You look comfortable, relaxed, like you—belonged here, his mind supplies helpfully.

He steps out of his boots, unbuckling his support items and setting them on the counter to clean later. He’s a little worse for wear tonight, shoulders tight from chasing rogue villains the past few hours. The tension seeps away steadily, though, the longer he drinks you in.

You look good. You always look good. Gorgeous, even more so when you’re tired and dirty, covered in blood and dust and debris. It’s been so long since you patrolled together, pulled to opposite ends of the city the past few months.

“Hey,” he says back.

“Shower?” You take his hand.

He trails behind you, nearly tripping over in his haste to follow, failing to register your words in time. This must be a dream, he decides. And he will play along, as he always does in these fits of delirium. He will hold you and have you and love you in ways he cannot begin to describe, and then he will lose you as dawn breaks and he wakes to an empty bed. But he falls anyway, does it over and over until he feels like he will go insane from the sheer longing. He is addicted to you.

You haven’t spoken, not really, since that night on the rooftop. So you, being here, without any prior warning, touching him, smiling at him, leading him to his fucking shower—this must be a dream, right?

You push open the door to his bathroom. It’s big, he’s always been meticulous about his health, and enjoys his fair share of long soaks and hot showers.

He realizes a beat too late that you’re undressing him. He exhales sharply when you tug his shirt off, but before he could say anything, you murmur, “You smell like caramel. You always do. It’s just a little stronger than usual.”

“Oh.” He sounds a little breathless, a little strangled. Unlike him, but he has never really been anything but himself with you. He’s still discovering new sides to himself, it seems.

Oddly enough, he’s the farthest thing from embarrassed as he steps out of his pants and boxers. He’s flushed, but the heat that floods his veins is nothing short of delicious. It makes his head spin, makes him lean into your touch.

You strip quickly, tossing your costume fabric aside his for laundry. He sucks in an audible breath at the sight of your nude body. Beautiful, he wants to say, but the words are stuck in his throat, and he reaches out with a shaky hand to thumb the smear of grease on your cheek.

You smile, pushing open the frosted glass doors and pull him inside.

The temperature is perfect. He likes it hot on days like today, muscles relaxing as the water washes away his fatigue.

“You know me so well,” he says.

You push him under the stream, water cascading between the two of you. His locks flatten under the pressure, falling over his eyes. You run a hand through his hair, pushing it back as you press yourself flush against him.

“Yes,” you answer. “I do.”

And then you kiss him. A low purring echoes through the space. Ah, it’s me, some part of him thinks absently. He opens his mouth instantly, tongue lapping at yours, arms coming around to hold you close. He can distinctly feel the way your perked nipples rub against his pectorals. He can taste you. And you are sweet, so sweet and the lewd sounds of your make out reverberating in the room so vividly he knows this is not, in fact, a mere conjuration of imagination after all.

He loathes to part from you, but he does. His fingers dig into your waist, anchoring him to reality. He looks at you searchingly, beseechingly. If you are here, you can only be here for one reason.

“I’m sorry I took so long. I’m sorry, I know it must’ve been painful. I’m here now, I promise I’ll never leave again,” you say, cupping his cheek.

His breath catches. His eyes flutter shut.

“You promise?” He sounds so small, so weak. Vulnerable. He would’ve hated that, once, but he is no longer that person. Today, he can accept he is weak for you. Always has been. And that’s okay, he thinks. He doesn’t have to be strong all the time.

“Yes. I promise, Katsuki.” You press your forehead against him, standing on your tippy toes.

He kisses you again, swallows your dreamy sigh, one hand on the back of your head, the other crushing your body against his. He wants you close, needs you close. Needs to feel you, this is real, right?

“Yes,” you whisper, and he realizes belatedly that he spoke aloud. “This is real. I’m here. I’m right in front of you.” You take his hand and press it against your upper rib cage, where your heart beats. Fast, like the wings of a hummingbird.

He can’t help it. He takes you against the wall, so pent up from years of pining he can hardly think, rutting into you like a teenager in heat, feeling like he’s a virgin again, every trace of your skin so new, he maps them out first with his eyes, then his hands and mouth. He slows down when you call his name in a haze of pleasure, takes the time to worship you, find what makes you tick, watches your expression raptly as he rolls his hips, as he tweaks your nipples, palms your ass, litters a necklace of freshly bloomed violets on your collarbone.

He’s panting your name, you’re murmuring praises in his ear, tugging at his locks and biting down on his shoulder and he cums so hard his vision whitens.

The two of you slide down, his legs giving out in the aftershocks, until he’s sitting on the floor of his shower and you’re curled up on his lap.

The water is—miraculously—still hot.

You lay there for a while, and he catches his breath between lazy kisses, enjoying the way your hands roam his chest languidly.

Finally, he stands, letting you down reluctantly to actually clean yourselves. You giggle at the pout that forms when your feet touch the ground once more.

You wash his hair, massaging methodically as he dips his head back to let the foam drain. He takes great pleasure in this, at the way you spread a generous amount of body wash on your palms and begin scrubbing the grime from his skin.

He jolts forward, letting out a low groan as you squeeze his flaccid cock teasingly. He glances away, eyes half-lidded, at the heated look you give him when his cock hardens immediately.

“You underestimate how easily you turn me on,” he says plainly. Not a hint of embarrassment. And why should he be? You kiss the corner of his mouth. “I love it,” you murmur.

You rinse him off before turning. His length presses against your ass, but he makes no move to seek anything further, focused on washing you.

Satisfied, he turns off the water.

You step out, toweling each other off. He pulls you to him, inhaling deeply. He likes that you smell like him now.

Afterwards, you are tucked in close, covers pulled up and he’s buried his face in your chest, bare legs tangled.

Perhaps it’s the novelty, the feeling of finally, but you can’t get enough of one another. You wake each other multiple times throughout the night, clawing at each other, ripping his boxers and your—his—shirt from each other until you were pressed tightly together, bare, a thin sheen of sweet already coating your bodies.

A thin strip of moonlight peeks through the cream curtains. He gazes up at you, thinks everything in his life has been leading up to this moment. That warmth swelling again, as it always does, so intense it has him arching his back. You touch his cheek, smiling. Something lands on the side of his pillow. Ah. You lean down, lips warm as they kiss away his tears.

“I love you, Katsuki.”

He closes his eyes.

Thank you.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #bakugo smut #hawks smut #bakugo x you #hawks x you #bakugou x reader

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findingyourrootscomic · 3 years

Photo

Mudkip Cedar is so beautiful, isn't she? ;;w;; Such wonderful, bright colors. Was in the mood to draw Cedar and Nauki's baby forms today, feeling a little nostalgic! So! Some interesting news! Despite The Things We Have not being completed yet (14 pages left to render!), I’ve started to draw Finding Your Roots again! I think after an entire summer of working on the rabbit comic, I got super burnt out? So, I got in the mood to draw some FYR instead, and since I got back to working on it a couple weeks ago, I’ve finished eleven pages! I’m really proud of myself for how easily I’ve jumped back into it, and I’m currently working on drawing the next big battle. >:3 It’s coming out great so far and I’m super excited.

FYR’s third birthday came and went in July. It passed on July 10, specifically, that day three years ago is when I finished the first page of FYR. It was before I even planned on ever releasing the comic publicly. I wasn’t even quite sure whether I wanted to commit to making a Nuzlocke comic or not! And even once I started releasing it, I always had these fears and anxieties over the project. FYR is going to be long, guys. It’s going to be long. We’re seven chapters in and have around 23 to go. Book 2 will probably take me another couple of years to finish, and at that point? The comic might just be halfway done. We’ve got four books to go, book 3 is looking like it’s going to be long. I loved the project so much that the thought of burning out and never finishing it, a fate shared by so many comic artists, was horrifying. It would keep me up at night. I’ve broken into tears from the stress of it. Wooooof, right?

But recently, thankfully… that changed.

I was chatting with my friend @zeropro, who somehow found the right words to encourage me not to view FYR as a goal, but rather a journey. Zero is a really good friend of mine, one of the best friends I’ve ever had in fact, and she would always sit with me and listen when I would vent about the stress of finishing FYR. The last time I vented about it, complaining about how I might be working on this project into my 30s (I’m currently 22), she said this:

“But what’s wrong with working on it late into your thirties, it can just be this constant fun little project that you dip into, a documentation of your growth through your whole artist career. Wouldn’t that be nice? Like a rabbit you can take care of for a long time. Imagine being the author of One Piece or Dragonball, where it’s not about finishing it but keeping it going for as long as people will read it. Isn’t it nice that FYR will at least have an end?

“Comics like TTWH and LL, they are meant to be completed, but FYR and JBN, these projects are here to grow with us, to keep us company through hard times. What’s the rush? I like to think your art style might change even further as FYR goes on! And who knows where you'll take it!

“Every day you get to draw another page is another day you get to draw another page, not one page more of a thousand. Every day as you draw one more page you will end up there, but that’s not the point, it’s what you get to do now.”

And those words… I’m happy to say, they solved the problem!

It’s not that I have to work on FYR for another ten years or so. It’s that I GET to work on FYR for another ten years or so! FYR has been such a stable, comforting presence in my life these past three years, and while I’m excited to some day see it completed, I’m happy to welcome it in my life for a long time coming. I’m the sort of person who is quite terrified of change. The unknown scares me a lot; I’m not good at handling an unknown future where bad things could happen and I have no way to predict or stop it. But FYR will always be around for me. It’ll be a pet I get to take care of for a long time who can never succumb to old age. It’ll be a friend I can trust to be always be around, because I’m the one who controls it! And if I ever want to put it aside for a while to work on other projects, like I did with TTWH, I’m allowed to do that too! Doesn’t matter if it takes me a year or two longer to finish FYR cause I was working on other stuff. FYR will always be around for me, and for you!

I’ve been doing a lot of work on planning future FYR chapters as well. I basically realized that a lot of my plans for the plot’s future, uhhhh, kinda sucked? They weren’t incredibly original, were too plot-focused, and didn’t leave a lot of room for the characters to explore themselves and grow naturally as people. Character focused stories are always better than plot-focused ones!!! So I’m overhauling a lot of my plans for FYR right now, doing some outlining for late Book 2 and Book 3, and restructuring FYR to be a story much more focused on character development and themes. We’re gonna spend less time chasing down villains and more time exploring the characters, their feelings, growth, and identities. I think the changes are going to make FYR a really spectacular experience, a comic that’s incredibly unique. I’m excited to share it with you.

I’m incredibly proud to be the author of FYR. I’m proud to be able to make a comic that’s made so many other people happy. We’ve laughed together, cried together, and we’re telling this story together. I’m not going anywhere. So I hope you’ll stick around, too!

Because this comic is amazing. And it’s only ever going to get even better.

- SPB

#pokemon #mudkip #spb's art

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sweettodo · 3 years

Note

HEY BAE 😩

how about some hisoka with a tongue piercing bc JUST IMAGINE oh and what if ✨it✨ all happened on the airship just before the last exam phase 😍🙏

hey bae ! how are you? hopefully good !

lemme find out there’s hisoka fanart w a tongue piercing .... (s)creaming. i also got very much i to this because my mind is going insane over this idea.

includes : oral.

a knock on the door had awoken you, springing out of bed, glancing at the clock, still sore from today’s exam.

“three in the morning? what the-”

“hisoka...” you breathed, he smiles, towering over you, shirtless and in sweatpants with that sly fucking grin. you sigh and turn around, allowing him in, “didn’t you say you didn’t want anyone to know we were affiliated with one another?”

he shrugs, sitting on your bed, leaning back to look out the window, overlooking the sky, the dark horizon with the clouds, the stars did look bigger from up here.

“couldn’t resist, do you blame me?”

you smiled, sitting beside him on the bed and laying back down, the man looking down at you, your heart bursting into a frenzy of excitement. his eyes alone sent you head over heals.

“you’re not eyes supposed to be here,” he hungrily licked his bottom lip, the moonlight making his piercing glow and light up his smile; it was truly a sight to see, “tryna’ entice me? hisoka?” you lightly chuckled.

leaning down, twisting his body so he’s facing you, arm on either side of your shoulders, “but you love it, don’t you?” kissing down your ear to the base of your neck, chills erupting down your body, your thighs clenching together.

“no one saw me walk here, so you don’t have to worry.” he reassures.

he proceeds, one hand snaking up and under your night shirt, tips of his fingers ticking your side, he moves fully over you, your hands attaching to his waist, “what are you doing?” you whisper, he lifts up your shirt, beautiful eyes looking at how your body glowed, being so high up in the sky, it was bright enough to emit a beautiful shadow upon the man in front of you, he glowed while his body on top of yours, feeling every inch of your body.

“giving you what you love most.”

“which is?”

“my tongue, of course, you seem to love my piercing the most so,” he smirks, “lay back and be quiet.” he pulls his hands back, touching the hem of your pajama pants, pulling them down with the help of you lifting your back up so he can pull them down.

he dips his head back down, torso now between your legs as he kisses down your stomach, hands holding your sides as he continues. kissing down your belly button and to your pelvic area, “hisoka.” you groaned, lips barely touching the hem of your underwear, “hurry up.”

he laughs, “what, don’t like it?” he teases, rolling your eyes, “be patient, ive missed you since the beginning of this exam.” his fingers linking underneath your underwear, pulling them towards his face, his eyes hungry, ready to taste you again; it really had been too long, “couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

he barely tickles your pelvic area with his nose as he pulls down you underwear until they’re at your thighs, you were glittery, hands shaky from the way he made you feel like you were on a never-ending roller coaster, he’s tossing the cloth on the ground and grabbing your thighs, holding them on his shoulders.

“so pretty,” he lets spit build up on his tongue before letting it roll down, off his tongue until it’s stringing down and hitting your cunt, his tongue following close behind with a stripe up your folds. biting hard on your bottom lip to silence you, his eyes remain on yours, boring into your face, “tastes good too.”

your hand snakes down to hold his hair, the little metal ball swirling around your clit, the stimulation from the piercing making your legs twitch, “g-god hisoka,” you moaned, head falling deeper into your pillow as he works you.

sucking on your clit, his digit slowly massaging your folds before filling your entrance, you try to surpass the moans, screwing your eyes shut with your jaw slack, “fuck- fuck.” you mewled, his finger curling, hooking into you just right, your back arching while he makes sure that his piecing is rubbing against the bundle of nerves.

fingers carding between his roots, pulling at the multicolor hair while his finger fucks into you, he pulls off of you once he sees your chest rising and falling, back arching upwards close to orgasm, still fingering you he purrs, “show me how much you missed me, i want you to cum all over me, yeah?” you nod your head, he attaches back to your core.

your thighs shook around him, the pressure from the tongue piercing making your free hand fly to your bare chest, begging for as much stimulation as possible.

trying not to cry out, his finger still deep inside you- your hole twitches and squeezes around him, “oh my god.” you cried rolling your hips against his finger as he watched you fall apart, trying to keep that feeling in your core as long as possible.

his middle finger slides out of you slowly, coated in your cum, he drags his index along with it, scooping your cream up before lifting up and peering back over you again, “taste.” he sticks his two fingers in your mouth, sucking your cum off his hand before kissing your lips, his tongue immediately slipping past your lips and meeting your own, his chin wet, his mouth tasting like your pussy. your legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him down onto you.

you pulled away from the kiss, panting for air, “god, i fucking missed you.”

#hisoka morow #hisoka drabble #hxh hisoka #drabble #hunter x hunter #send in requests #todoreplies #hisoka x reader #hisoka smut #request

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hollyhomburg · 4 years

Text

Of Fire And Love (Pt.5)

(Dragon! Yoongi x Human! Reader) (????? Jungkook, Dragon! Hoseok) (Sorcerer! Seokjin x Human! Taehyung) (Fairy! Jimin x Dragon! Namjoon)

Summary: When Dragon Yoongi finds baby Jungkook in the wreckage of a house he burned down, he can’t bring himself to kill the child. Months after someone drops a baby at your door, you start to notice something- or someone, lurking at the edge of the woods.

Pairings: Dragon! Yoongi x Human! Reader, ????? Jungkook, Dragon! Hoseok, Sorcerer! Seokjin x Human! Taehyung,

W/c: 18.6k

Warnings/Tags: visceral violent death scenes, gore, blood, near character death, morbid, violence, referenced parental death, familial fluff, touch starved characters, brief smut, discussions of Aging/mortality, mentions of War, Namgi have a Lil fight in this,

Song rec: Agust D- Burn it,

A/N: well here it is! the big reveal! I will be posting a short thing probably explaining the end of this and the backstory of the Seokjins family a little more as well as a collection of all of the bits that foreshadowed the ending of this chapter! This is the second to last part! and the next part will probably be just as long as this and won’t be posted for a little while.

Series Masterlist

- Yoongi is flying back when it happens and almost falters. Dipping in the air as the wind goes out from underneath his wings and a stabbing pain lights just underneath his heart. After being with his mate for so long it almost feels like he’s the one who was hurt not you.

- It only knocks him out of the sky for a second before he’s righting himself in the air. And the panic takes hold- suddenly sure that something is wrong- terribly earth tilting wrong. He summons all the strength he has in him and hurls himself through the sky as quick as he can. Yoongi has never flown faster in his life.

- Jungkook is only a kid, he can’t keep you alive. You’d only just begun to teach him how to heal. Even as Hoseok shifts back to human form- the attacker who stabbed you quickly dispatched by his teeth. Somehow Jungkook’s red scarf ends up pressed to your wound, pressing down on it with all of his weight.

- “That’s good Koo- just like that.” you gently instruct. You’re barely alive by the time that Yoongi gets back, your breathing heavy and labored. Though Jungkook has bound around the wound, you’re half-conscious. Yoongi swoops in, shifting just in time to hurl himself through the front door cracking part of the frame with his shoulders.

- He’s steely, even as his hands shake when he touches your pale face. You pass out with Yoongi’s name on your tongue- staying awake just long enough to see that he’s here, that your children have him to protect them, before a tidal wave of pain pulls you under. Yoongi takes one look around at the house, the dead men- feeling horror well up in him. Their place of safety, of softness and love, violated like this.

- He can hear and smell the ones that remain in the woods, the sluggish pull of their heartbeats as they die. And he knows the hairs on the backs of their necks are standing up as his anger grows. His fingers are black-tipped claws by his side- unable to resist the semi-shift- aching to sink into the rage that demands the world to sate it. Yoongi cannot and will not let this go unpunished.

- But you’re still there dying on the floor, and the choice is easy. (When it comes down to it- Yoongi will always choose you) For you Yoongi will easily surrender this revenge. Somewhere in the house Yoongi smells fire. But he doesn’t care burn it all to the ground. Every happy memory with it too- everything. If it all ends like this- Yoongi can’t bear it.

- But he needs too- for the two small faces that he loves more than anything in the world- looking at him like he holds all the answers. Hoseok’s face is wet with tears and blood when he tilts his face up, blinking them away furiously. His voice shakes when he instructs them. “Jungkook I’m going to shift and then you and Hobi are going to put her on my back and fly with me” he touches Jungkook’s arm and Jungkook turns his tear-filled eyes to his father

- “I need you to be strong fledgling, I need you to hold her there and make sure she doesn’t fall off when we fly because tying her in will take too much time.” Yoongi touches Hoseok’s face- wiping away the blood on his mouth with a thumb. “Hoseok- this will be a long flight so keep up just above me so I can break the wind for you.”

- “If you can’t I’m going to-“ Hoseok squares his little shoulders, he’s only 15- and yet he meets Yoongi’s gaze, his resolve steely as he pushes himself up, nodding. “if I lose you don’t worry I’ll catch up. I can follow your scent. If I fall back keep going.”

- Yoongi had never imagined- that the trauma he’d been through as a child could have affected him in this way but Hoseok is steady as a rock in a stream. Pride wells up in him- smothered by the panic.

- They fly through the rain and all through the night, Jungkook clenches Yoongi’s back with his thighs and keeps you on his back, putting as much pressure on your wound as he can with his arms around your waist.

- Hoseok is so exhausted and barely managing to stay airborne in his little red dragon form, dipping with every strong gust of wind. His ears are better at hearing now than when he’s in human form. And He listens for every ragged breath- every uneven thudding heartbeat of yours that slows with the passing hours. like a timer counting down the moments until everything will have been for naught. Hoseok pushes himself harder, his aching wings protesting with each flap.

- Jungkook’s thighs and front are stained with your blood, and it makes Yoongi’s scaly back slippery and hard to grip with his trembling thighs, especially when the rain starts up. The terror keeps Jungkook awake and sheer will power keeps his muscles from giving out.

- Back at your manor house a hush settles over the woods, the men deep in the belly of your castle. As they raid Yoongi’s hoard- the minor blaze in the house put out. They’re merry at the prospect of so much gold but yet subdued at the men they lost today. their lives a small price to pay for the fortune that would make them as good as princes in their country.

- How selfish dragon kind where for hogging all of this wealth- not only did they have control of all of the fertile land in the world- but they also had 90% of the world’s gold. The least they can do is share. They raid Yoongi’s wine stores too. filling golden chalices with the dark red liquid.

- A hush settles over the woods as the mist starts to gather- but the calm won’t be there- not for long. They’re so drunk- they don’t realize the way that it sinks in through the windows with gentle clawed fingers, creeping in through the hallways and down to the belly of the manor house. a mist thicker than any you could cut. They only have a few moments- their drunken and gold-hungry gaze focusing on the house- full of mist- before they hear it- a brief humming of fairy wings.

- Jimin hits them with a savage stab- the flowers growing through one of their chests with a savage crack- roots splitting his sternum with a burst of red flowers. The roots sprouting around the edge of Jimin’s knife. Gone are the usual delicate features from the fairy, his face almost more horrifying than the sight of their dead comrade falling to the floor. The chrysanthemums blooming in his eyes, mushrooms budding along his spine, decomposing before their very eyes.

- What once was Jimin's cheekbones is now webbed black- his muscles sunken in and woven like a spider, his fangs hooked and buglike. His eyes glowing a horrifying red. His hands have more fingers than seem possible- more like a spider than a human. He dispatches the rest of them easily, leaving only one, pressing him close up against a wall. The man pisses himself, feeling the vines constrict around his whole body- but not killing him- not yet.

- Jimin voice is a low croon as he drags his knife down his cheek, “now- would you like to tell me what you’ve done with my family? Or should I let my flowers do their job?” a massive head sinks out of the fog, claws clicking on the marble floors, his fangs long- blue fire leering deep in Namjoon’s mouth as he opens his mouth- the man lets out a whimper.

- He falls away like petals in the wind when Jimin wills it. Wiping his knife of the blood on his thigh and sheathing it in a simple movement. He’s thinking about seeing Seokjin again after all these years. If you’d really been as injured as they said you where- if they’d really seen Yoongi fly away with you, Jungkook and Hobi in toe- then Seokjin’s is the only place you could be heading too. All at once- the spider face gone with Jimin’s rage. He hadn’t thought- only smelled your blood in the woods and acted.

- Namjoon nudges the edge of one of the men the flowers wilting as he dies. There isn’t a hit of remorse in his face. They’d found the puddle of your blood in the entryway after all. “You know this is sort of like Instant compost.”

- Jimin snorts shoving at his head lovingly. “You’re terrible” but he keeps his fingers tangled in his dragon's hair. “Let's get out of here” but before he leaves. He nudges one of them again, and a scroll falls out of their pocket, Namjoon stoops to pick it up. Eyes widening when he reads the first line.

- “We need to call the council- this can’t wait.”

- It’s early morning the next day when Yoongi finally touches down at the one person who could save you from the brink of death- Seokjin.

- No one is quite sure how old Yoongi is. But the last sorcerer left in the world is definitely older. The two are old friends even if it’s been more than a decade since they saw each other. But then again, Seokjin doesn’t really process time the way a normal person does- at least not when it comes to friendship.

- So it doesn’t feel like a reunion after a long time when Yoongi crashes down in the lawn in front of Seokjin’s castle. It feels more like a friend that’s popped in for tea at an unbecoming hour. But Yoongi’s never been good with manners and at the age he is, Seokjin can’t really expect him to change.

- It’s more clumsily then he’s ever seen him land. He even rips up the sod too- a great big skid mark all across Seokjin’s grass. Oh well, at least he hadn’t trashed the garden that Seokjin had looked after for the better part of the last millennia. He only slightly disturbs his morning coffee on his patio. Seokjin barely lifts an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of his friend.

- After all- Seokjin had felt him coming. Seokjin knows (almost) everything.

- The thing that does surprise him however, is the shouting- Jungkook slides off his back with you barely supported in his arms. That certainly surprises him a great deal. The way the youth sobs and looks at Yoongi- chanting “dad- dad please-“ Yoongi shifts to carry you. Scooping you up from the boy who looks half way to passing out. A smaller red dragon with fluffy feathers lands sloppily, crabbing to the left at the last moment and crashing into a cypress tree and nearly snapping it in half.

- He gives a muted grumble to let everyone know he’s fine- just tired, even as he drags himself over to the group his tail dragging. Yoongi and Jungkook carry you in a panicked dash. Hoseok following Too tired to shift back to human but running next to them. That has Seokjin straightening up, getting out of his chair, his teacup clattering the floor in a crash, running over to meet them. Seokjin helps Yoongi with your weight- “Please save her Jin- I can’t live without her.”

- Seokjin’s hands touch your abdomen with purpose, coming away red, your blood cold. “Yoongi she’s bare-“

- “Jin” Yoongi’s voice breaks, his lower lip quivering, every muscle in his body holding you gently, as close as he can without hurting you. Anything to keep you close for a few more moments. Jin doesn’t pause, doesn’t ask. He just rushes the four of you inside the small castle to his study.

- The glass double doors blow open from an unseen force before they enter- tables and chairs and books flying this way and that clearing their path. The crowded table clears with a flick of his wrist too. A hidden force sending everything flying back onto its proper place on the shelf. If he weren’t so terrified Jungkook would find it in himself to be awed- but as it is; all he can feel is scared.

- Yoongi lays you as gently as he can on the table- your head lolling. Seokjin starts spitting words in a frantic language, his hands glowing a soft violet color as Yoongi tears at your dress- opening it up around the wound.

- This is different than Jimin's plant magic, the wordless sort of magic that has the world leaning in- no- Seokjin’s magic makes the world stop in place and turn around him. Every inch of intent spoken by his mouth an order that reality will bow too. It’s jaw-dropping to see,

- Jungkook stands by the door until Hobi pulls him out of it, teeth ripping into the back of his shirt as he moves Jungkook like a mother cat would a kitten. He’s a good older brother- and he doesn’t think that you’d want either of them to see this. Especially when Seokjin starts to undress you- with only a medical like air in mind his movements quick and efficient meant to expose more of the wound.

- It takes Jin almost another full day to heal you to the best of his abilities and even then the rest is up to you. Seokjin works through the night and through all of it, Yoongi sits by your bedside, his forehead pressed to yours through the entire healing process. Offering his strength when Seokjin needs it. A hand on his shoulders sometimes, not to offer to comfort but to take Yoongi’s energy- his lifeblood- because alone Seokjin doesn’t have enough power for this.

- Seokjin’s drains the energy out of him to the point where he fears taking anymore. Yoongi slumped next to you, keeping himself in the chair by sheer force of will, whispering into your ear your cheeks start to pink up again slowly, your breath coming infrequently- but in time with the pulse of Seokjin’s magic.

- “Don’t you dare go on me yet Y/n, I haven’t had nearly enough time with you, not by a long shot” he holds your hand- he only ever wanted to do that- to hold your hands for the rest of time. However much time he had with you- he had always thought that would be enough- but now he realizes it isn’t. He’d never get enough time with you, not if you were by his side for 100 or 500 years.

- You never get enough time with the ones you love. Whether you’re immortal or mortal, no stretch of time is adequate. Even if you’re both there to witness the death of the cosmos and all else that lingers. Yoongi wants more- he needs more time with you.

- Both of your sons sit outside the room, Jungkook listing into Hobi once he gets too tired to stay awake. “I’ll wake you if there’s any news Kookie” And even though Hobi’s tired from flying he just can’t close his eyes until he knows if he’s lost his mom again.

- Jungkook dozes, and Hoseok picks a spot on the tapestry that hangs on the opposite wall and doesn’t look away. Jungkook lying across his lap- one of Hoseok’s hands embedded deep in his chocolate locks. Holding onto him like he’s worried Jungkook is going to slip away too.

- “I killed someone Hobi- I- I killed someone,” he says, late into the afternoon when the orange light seeps through the window at the end of the hall. Hoseok blinks as he looks down at Jungkook- he hadn’t realized the younger had woken. A Geometric shape of orange light falls across Jungkook’s Face. His cheekbones suddenly present- all that made him baby faced fallen away in a single day, the bags under his eyes hallow bruises.

- The way Jungkook says it- he says it like it means something. Like it Wasn’t just an act of desperation and an act of trying to live. To keep going. Hoseok has to fight to keep his voice steady. “Do you hate me?” his hand fists in the front of Jungkook’s shirt over his heart. Covering a tiny fleck of blood with his closed fist. “I killed people too Jungkook, do you hate me?”

- Hoseok realizes with a start- that he’s killed more people than Jungkook- and can’t navigate his way back through the terror of the last few hours to count how many men had fallen under his tooth and claw. Hoseok tells himself that they had too- and believes it. After all- if they hadn’t it would mean the three of you lying dead on the floor of your entryway.

- Hoseok doesn’t want to think about what Yoongi would have done if he’d come home to that. He doesn’t think that his father’s rage would have been sated by the whole world on fire. He lets himself imagine it for a moment. The human world- swallowed in flames, everything burning. Jungkook reaches up and rubs away at the smoke curling over Hoseok’s chin, a juvenile imitation of rage- of the fire that Hoseok isn’t capable of yet. “Do you hate me Jungkook?”

- Jungkook looks stricken with the very idea of it, he laces his hand with Hoseok’s over his heart and curls up around him so that Jungkook can press his face into Hoseok’s side. Hiding his face and his tears as he fights to stay calm- not to break all over his soulmates lap- even if he’s been breaking since he put his sword through that man in your home hours ago.

- “I could never hate you Hobi.”

- Hoseok wishes he could feel more like Jungkook but he doesn’t. Sure he’s afraid, but the terror hovers below a steely calm that he can’t think through. He’s lost his mom before, and he can’t lose you too, doesn’t want to lose his mom again. But he won’t fall apart until he knows. Because If he fell apart again- he’s not sure that even Jungkook could bring him back.

- It takes until the next evening for the trauma-induced calm to end. Jungkook next to him asleep again, but Hoseok hasn’t managed to close his eyes. And when he does for only a few minutes, images of you lie behind his eyelids.

- The countless times you’d brushed through his feathers or ruffled his hair, how you’d excitedly congratulated him and Jungkook with every little bit of things they’d brought home. The cross look on your face, hands on your hips, whenever they came home more bruised and battered than usual. All of that gone in a day-

- A memory from when he would wake as a child in your mountain home is what makes Hoseok fall apart. the first time he’d ever woken up feeling safe after his parents died. Jungkook asleep beside him, to the sound of your soft humming as you hovered over the stove, Yoongi’s dark wing shielding Jungkook and Hoseok from the light of morning.

- But when Hobi had looked, he’d found Yoongi’s neck stretched out so that he could lay it down next to you while you worked. And whenever you’d finish with a task you’d reach over to scratch up and down his cheek. And Hoseok could feel the pleasant shiver and happiness all around him.

- He remembers making a noise, and you turn to him. your hair falling all around your face free from the braid you usually bound it in when you slept. Hushing him softly, ‘you can go back to sleep okay? Breakfast will be done in a moment little-honey’

- It’s when the memories hit him that He starts to cry, to hyperventilate. He keeps clutching Jungkook’s hand the whole time. When Jungkook wakes they hold onto each other. The younger pulling him in and reversing their positions. Strengthening the moment Hoseok needs him. And Hoseok’s world narrows down to just Jungkook.

- Finally, just after sunrise, Seokjin pokes his head out of the study and Hobi straightens up. He’s already magiced the table into a bed- and he’s left Yoongi curled up around you sleeping soundly- a quick calming spell to let his friend recuperate after the last day- Seokjin is sure he would have fallen asleep if he hadn’t put that spell on him. They’ll move you to an actual bed when yoongi wakes.

- At the sound of the door opening Jungkook jerks barely catching himself before he crashes into the floor, blinks owlishly at the sudden movement. Seokjin’s greeting dying in his throat. Truthfully, Seokjin doesn’t remember being that young and it’s kind of strange. To be confronted with such youth after almost a full year on his own with no-one to talk too.

- They spill over themselves in an effort to get in the room “is she okay- is mom gonna live is she gonna-“ suddenly Seokjin finds himself inundated with two very concerned teenagers, clutching at the edge of his dark purple dressing-gown- he hadn’t even bothered to change from his pajamas. “I’ve healed her wounds- but the rest is up to her” both of them sigh and then- none to surprisingly, burst into tears and cling to Seokjin who awkwardly pats them on the back.

- Jesus Christ- they haven’t even told him their names yet and already they’re tripping over themselves to thank him. “Can we see her and dad?” Seokjin sighs heavily, “I think it’s probably better to give them some space, your father and mother need to rest- why don’t you come with me so we can fix some food for you? And also do some introducing- your parents really didn’t teach you any manners did they? Luckily I’m good at that.” Because if there’s one thing that's better than a spell at fixing sorrow, then its food.

- Seokjin starts jauntily down the hallway as Hoseok and Jungkook shoot each other a confused glance, suddenly both dubious and a little terrified by the sorcerer “Well come on- out with it what are your names little menaces?”

- When you wake, almost a full week after the attack, Yoongi is sat by your bedside holding your hand looking haggard and unkempt. He’s hardly moved all this time. Only changed and washed up because Seokjin had bothered him too- and left Hobi and Jungkook to watch over you for a moment, or to tuck the boys in and made sure they’ve eaten something. they’ve been so grown up the last few days. after the first day when-

- a tangled mess of both of them in the bed, both of them woken to yoongi coming into their room, wetness on his cheeks, touching their soft heads as he cried- thanking the gods and all the goodness in the world that they hadn’t been hurt too. Hoseok blinking awake, whispering “dad?” into the open air which had made Yoongi break- his chest heaving.

- And Hoseok- little Hoseok- knowing to reach up to wrap his arms around his father because that’s what he needed. To scent-mark his children and make sure they knew he was there- that he wouldn't be leaving. Jungkook has always been a deep sleeper hadn’t even woken.

- but Hoseok had pushed at yoongi after a moment. “go- I know you want to sit next to mom. it’s okay, I’ll make sure Jungkook and I eat after he wakes up- you don't have to worry about us I'll- I’ll make sure we’re doing what she’d want us to be doing.”

- like washing their clothes and making sure they bathed and detangled their hair and made their beds in the morning. But also- that they were looking after each other too. making sure neither of them felt alone or uncared for- for too long. in all your years parenting- you’ve always emphasized being there for each other- and Hoseok and Jungkook won’t let you down now. they’re amazing in Yoongi’s eyes. Already grown up enough to understand that yoongi is as in need of as much comfort as they are.

- And In all your time raising Jungkook and Hoseok together you have never seen Yoongi cry. But when you open your eyes and peer up at him Yoongi bursts into tears. looking tired but alive with a lingering ache in your stomach that seems to hold you down to the plush bed with a vengeance. His long fingers touching your cheeks, pulling himself closer to you.

- Yoongi sobs out your name, pressing his forehead against yours when you whisper out his name, your hands weekly coming up to grab onto him- you’re so tired- so weak and uncoordinated but still- you can’t bear to have him even an inch from you. “I was so scared my love, but now you’re safe and healing. Thank the gods you’re alive.”

- “I’m not a god but thanks for the high praise,” says a stranger from the door, his black hair shot through with silver streaks. His endlessly mirthful purple eyes haunting in the half-light of the bedroom. The stranger wipes his hands off with a cloth. But the glowing stone- set into the space just above his collar bones, glowing a light purple under a thin layer of skin, tell you enough about who this must be.

- He does smile kindly, and you can already see his appraising eyes measuring your condition. “I’m Seokjin- I’m the person who saved your life” you give a weak smile in return. “Yoongi’s told me all about you and though I’d prefer it if we hadn’t met this way I’m eternally thankful. Thank you Seokjin, for allowing me to stay with my family.”

- You turn to Yoongi, even now he can see how exhausted you are, “how are you feeling- do you want some water- some food my darling?” You’re about to say no, that you only want to go back to sleep when you jolt up. Your parental instincts cut through your haze and a bone-chilling panic suddenly seizing you.

- Yoongi’s hands on both your shoulders to keep you in the bed- “oh my god the kids- are they alright are they-“ Jungkook and Hoseok peer out from behind Seokjin’s back, looking scared and restraining themselves from coming too close. But very much alive and uninjured. They hover until Yoongi gestures that it’s okay for them to come closer- that they won’t hurt you.

- Both Hoseok and Jungkook immediately start crying and hurl themselves onto your bed. Hobi gets so distressed that he actually shifts and starts scent marking you like a cat. One of his legs wiping out to push Seokjin away unintentionally. He is a little big now- it feels more like an extraordinarily large puppy has taken up half the space in your bed.

- “Hey! Rude!” Seokjin shouts but lets himself be moved. The big bed creaks and sags as Hoseok sets himself firmly over the top portion of it. His warm underbelly curled around your head, his feathers tickling your face as he nuzzles in close, gently and slowly. Jungkook settles on your side, his hands locked in a death grip around your shoulders you weekly bring up a hand to card it through his hair.

- “Boys! Be careful of her side! She’s still healing.” But you give him a look over Jungkook’s shoulder, a little teary-eyed yourself but smiling- the smile that Yoongi would die for would tear apart the world for.

- “Yoongi told me how brave the two of you were flying all this way to help me Hobi, and keeping me on his back Kookie. I’m so proud of both of you.” Jungkook lets himself pull back a little “Really?”

- “Yes! you were so so brave!” you even scratch a little under Hobi’s chin, and he lets out a little content dragon noise and snuggles closer. Jungkook lets out his first even breath in days. Hoseok too- both of them crying those easy tears of relief in your arms. “You’re so brave boys, It’s okay- I’m okay now- you don’t have to be scared anymore.”

- As he listens to you reassure your children and for the first time, Yoongi notices the smile lines by your mouth, a single grey hair starting to glitter along your hairline. The signs of aging that he never noticed before, and goes quiet, suddenly still.

- “Thank you” your eyes are tear-filled as you look up at Seokjin, your hands brushing over both your son's heads, so slow and lingering. like you thought you’d never get the chance to do it again- or had, and now were pausing to savor every moment. “Really Seokjin- I can’t thank you enough- I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

-Seokjin looks bashful, a stiff blush climbing from the back of his neck. And he’s stuttering when he talks- “it’s really not my doing- not most of it anyway- I mean- healing you was my doing but you never would have survived if it hadn’t been for this.”

- Seokjin fingers the cloth in his hands, darker red now than it was before. The four of you straighten up, suddenly confused. Jungkook lifts his head from your shoulder, looking perplexed, “My scarf? My scarf saved her?” Jungkook asks,

- “Not the scarf- but the protection charm on it” Seokjin fingers the edge of it- which hasn’t frayed in all this time. How had you never realized it? over 13 years old and still it’s never lost its color. “It’s old magic- the kind of magic I haven’t seen in a long time. It will protect whatever it covers from harm. And in your case it kept your organs from shutting down before you got here. If it hadn’t been for this wrapped around your waist you would have died in minutes not hours.”

- Seokjin looks at Yoongi, his lower lip quivering suddenly looking betrayed. “You- you should have told me- if you’d seen my sister you should have told me it’s been hundreds of years Yoongi- you know how much I want to see my family so- how could you.”

- “I didn’t- Seokjin I didn’t see her- the scarf was with Jungkook when I found him.” Jungkook looks up abruptly from the bed; Hoseok cocks his head in curiosity. “When you found me?” Jungkook looks surprised for a second before he straightens up. “No- I knew that I knew that I wasn’t yours- but- I always thought- the scarf was the first thing you gave me- that’s why it was so special.”

- Hoseok’s shifts shaking his head his curls bouncing. leaning up against the headboard pulling Jungkook up to sit with him. Until the three of you are sitting up. “I didn’t know- I always thought-“ Hoseok looks at you, and you shake your head. “Then if you’re not- where are Jungkook’s biological-“

- Yoongi puts his head in his hands, leaning up against the edge of your bed. gritting his teeth, “Now isn’t the time for that conversation.” Yoongi isn’t ready and won’t ever be ready for Jungkook to hate him.

- Hoseok has gotten better at smelling emotions through his sensitive nose- and whips his head around at the acrid scent of Yoongi’s displeasure- taking it wrong. “Then when will be the right time?” how Hoseok had managed to inherit your stubbornness but only ever decides to use it when Jungkook is concerned- Yoongi will never know.

- “Yoongi” Seokjin brings his focus back to him. You straighten up in bed. Sending both of your children a thankful but strained smile. “Boys? Would you mind giving us a minute?” both of them won’t argue with you now. not with how weak you look.

- You tell Seokjin the story- Yoongi filling in the blanks more than you do. He’s being so tender with you- the physical contact filling you with a soft haze along with the sleepiness. His fingers rubbing down your arm slowly and gently. He’s fully sprawled next to you, your head resting on his chest so you can listen to his heartbeat. Dozing a little. “Are you sure Yoongi?” Seokjin asks gripping the scarf like it’s a lifeline.

- Yoongi nods certain, “it must have been some sort of relic- you know how the humans like to hand those down through the generations. Jungkook’s birth parent’s where- these warriors? I can only describe them as a clan of dragon hunters but I never went back after I-“

- Yoongi can’t meet Seokjin’s eyes. “I killed them and then Jungkook was just there and couldn’t- I didn’t want to-” you lift a shaky hand up to cup Yoongi’s cheek, and he leans into it. All at once you realize this- you in the bed, and Seokjin accusing Yoongi of something the likes of which you can’t imagine, are too much for him.

- You jump in where Yoongi fails to articulate the words. “After that we took care of him together, and then Hobi came- and it’s only been us ever since. I’m sorry Seokjin, I don’t know who you’re looking for. But I don’t think it has anything to do with Jungkook” Seokjin’s protests die in his throat, and he nods sadly, setting the scarf gently on the end of your bed.

- Later- Yoongi will tell you about Seokjin’s family. and how slowly, after a period of time- they’d all begun to disappear off the face of the earth. The only family of sorcerers left or made- even Seokjin didn’t know how they’d come to be. Only that there could only be the seven of them and no more. Not even any more children, As having children was as good as passing your power down onto them- and relinquishing your own immortality.

- First his parents had gone- than his older siblings, and finally, his younger sister who had simply vanished one-afternoon leaving Seokjin alone- the only sorcerer left in the world. Seokjin had been searching for her ever since.

- That afternoon- you have more energy with your children around, and even eat something small. Though Seokjin had warned Yoongi that it might take a little while for your body to recuperate- he’s happy to watch you sit up a little more. The warmth back in your cheeks when you play a game of cards with your children sprawled across the bed that night.

- Both of them give you more details here and there about what had happened after you’d lost consciousness happy to receive more praise from you. Sometimes- Hoseok gets a little overwhelmed and needs to hug you and shifts- but he’s conscious enough to move before that happens this time (after a few poignant comments about the state of the bedframe from Seokjin), putting most of his weight on a plush couch that he and Jungkook had pushed over to the side of the bed. Leaning only his head on the plush blanket. It’s easy for both Yoongi and Jin to excuse themselves and go make dinner.

- It always surprises Yoongi how much Seokjin loves to cook- for an all-powerful immortal that doesn’t necessarily need to put in effort into doing anything. Yoongi has seen him wave his hands and summon full cooked feasts. And still, the sorcerer does love to cook with his own two hands, finding the process more satisfying that way.

- His friend looks the same as he had over a dozen years ago- his button-down shirt rolled to the sleeves, barking at Yoongi to pour out scoops of finely milled powders to make some sort of doughy saucy dish that Yoongi’s never heard of before. Seokjin’s mother’s cookbook sits open on the prep table- so it must be something special.

- “Just say it- I know you have something you want to ask,” Seokjin’s voice is quiet and comforting. In their little cadre- Seokjin has always been the voice of reason. Yoongi’s hands are elbow deep in flour. Slowly kneading the dough. He hesitates for a moment. Knowing once he asks, the future might be out of his hands.

- “I can’t lose her Jin, I don’t think Hoseok and I will be able to bear it when they both go- I don’t want to go back to being that lonely person I was- I need them. I need you to find a way to turn her immortal like us, and then I want you to do the same with Jungkook.”

- Hoseok is like Yoongi- won’t even reach maturity for another 20 years- and by that time, you’ll be older, and Jungkook will be nearing 35. He’s honestly surprised that he and Jungkook are still aging at the same rate as in general. Dragons stop aging once their human bodies start to reach maturity. Yoongi doesn’t want to think about the eventuality- 50 or 60 years down the line when Hoseok will loose his soul-bonded partner. They could lose both of you. If Seokjin and Yoongi don’t act now.

- But yet- he knows- what he’s asking of Seokjin is no easy feat of magic. If it was- Taehyung would be standing next to them right now. Seokjin’s eyes darken when Yoongi asks, his hands still from where he’s stirring the sauce. flicking off the fire with a twitch of his hand and setting the spoon on a plate.

- Yoongi knows a cure for mortality has been the only thing on Seokjin’s mind for a long time- before you were born even. It’s been his single goal since he’d met Taehyung. Yoongi wonders where Taehyung is- he should go and say hello to his old friend soon, but he’s not sure where he is in the castle probably hidden away near Seokjin’s bedroom.

- Seokjin makes a ‘come hither’ motion with his fingers and a singular perfect drop of red floats from the pot and into his mouth. “This needs something” he pauses for a moment before he turns and walks to the pantry. Searching for some oregano- but it might be in the study- after all- it was very useful in most calming spells. “You should go check on her Yoongi, and send your boys here- I want to teach them how to make this.”

- In the week since you’d been injured. Seokjin has taken it upon himself to teach the boys how to cook for themselves (if they’re going to insist on being the adventurers they are then it’s a skill they’ll need to posses) as well as “manners” which Yoongi had caught them grumbling about more than once.

- Jin likes his boys a fair bit, Even if they have gotten into his stores of potions twice in the last week (of which one incident had, unfortunately, lead to Hoseok’s hair turning into full-on feathers as dark as Jungkook’s hair. But luckily that had been quickly fixed by a secondary spell. What Yoongi doesn’t have to know- won’t hurt him) “Jin please-”

- “I know how it feels Yoongi- I know- just enjoy the next few days okay? Let me think about it. And ask her if she even wants this its not just you who chooses what happens with your family, Jungkook and Hobi too.” Yoongi sighs, but respects Seokjin’s words.

- And as much as Yoongi’s fear won’t let him make a coherent decision- he’s right. He should ask you first before he makes any plans about your mortality. Once you’re better- then he’ll ask. Yoongi lifts his hands up from the dough and unsurprisingly it keeps kneading its self pulled this way and that by an unseen force. A little too quickly- like Seokjin’s magic is a little agitated by so many questions.

- “I never thought you’d have kids. The Yoongi I met all those years ago wouldn’t have wanted to bring a woman into his mess let alone a child” Yoongi has to laugh at it because he’s right. His younger self was a lot more angsty and pessimistic about the likelihood of a family in his future.

- Yoongi can’t stop the soft smile that lights his face when he thinks of you. “They give me a lot of joy Jin- hope for the future too. Maybe the best way to change the world is to raise your own kids and make sure you do it right. Maybe that’s the way to change the world rather than any more pointless wars.”

- Seokjin knocks his shoulder into Yoongi’s “You’ve grown up a lot since I last saw you Yoongi.” And Yoongi can’t do anything else but smile- because sometimes- growing up is a good thing.

- You get better slowly, it takes you a few days to get out of bed and see the castle that your children have taken upon themselves to explore. A dark gothic structure with vaulted ceilings; its Library full of jeweled toned spell books in languages that Jungkook doesn’t even recognize- and tries to learn (his curiosity as unsatiable as ever).

- The books that seem to whisper in Jungkook’s ear. Sentences so quiet like t he’s just a little too far away to properly make out the words.

- Enchanted brooms sweeping here and there. Making indigent squeaking noises if you walk along their path. Rooms full of drawers- the shelves lining all the way up through the ceiling- each ingredient labeled by its uses, it’s common name, and its magical name. You’re curious too- especially when you find some plants even you use for healing with particular uses.

- The whole place is furnished like a decade out of the past- tufted velvet sofas and chipped gilded mirrors that have greyed with age- some of which are covered with cloths. You ask Seokjin what they hide when Hoseok tries to pull the covering off of one unseen magical hands stopping him. And the sorcerer just sighs a little clipped, and says cryptically “some things are best left unknown at his age.”

- Later one evening you’ll go over to it again and ask. And Seokjin will tell you that the mirror Hoseok was trying to peer into shows the viewer their soulmate. And when you pull the casing off of it- you don’t see anything- anyone standing beside you at all. Until Yoongi comes into the room, having just made sure that your boys were getting to bed at a semi-reasonable hour.

- Moving to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. smiling at you in the mirror and Tugging you to go to bed- and get some rest (he’s been seemingly obsessed with making sure you rest and become 100% better before you even talk about what you’re going to do next). You glance back at Seokjin- about to ask him what that means- to see no one. Until you see his small happy smile- oh, so Yoongi actually is your soulmate. You suppose that’s nice- knowing for sure.

- And Seokjin will sip his wine from the fireplace and give you both a soft shadowed smile, his hands tapping vacantly- reaching out for someone who he can’t touch, and wanting all the same. when he takes a chance and looks across the room to see Taehyung smiling at him, reflected in that mirror. And gets up to cover it again.

- Everything in the castle hums some sort of undercurrent. The room Seokjin sets you and Yoongi up in is lavish- the bed impossibly soft and the sheets that feel like running water on your skin. The fabrics that hang on the walls detailing stories that seem to be ever-changing. One morning you wake up to an embroidered phoenix hanging on the wall across from you and the next; some sort of intricate blue flower about to bloom.

- There are 100 moments that could have prepared you for what happens in the end. Hoseok and Jungkook walking through the library- only to have Jungkook complain that it’s ‘too loud to concentrate” “what are you talking about Koo it’s a library” “yeah but- don’t you hear it?” or the fact that Jungkook keeps begging Seokjin to do spells but somehow they never stick.

- You’re lounging in the sitting room next to the library, its tall glass ceiling- a small door to the side open to the backyard and garden. You’re shivering a little where you’re propped up against Yoongi. He keeps fussing, tucking the blanket around you tighter. And you’re ready for another nap even though you’ve just woken up.

- Your children badger Seokjin about every different kind of spell that he can do after they find one that gives someone the ability to control the length of their hair- which is apparently something Hoseok really wants- though you can’t imagine why.

- They’re just working out the logistics when Jungkook lugs over a spellbook more half his size and slams it down across the desk, making both Seokjin and Hoseok- having been bent over the spellbook- flinch. “Page 497” Jungkook is almost vibrating with excited energy, as Seokjin waves a hand, the massive book flipping open, “Hyung” he tacks on- with little regard for politeness. But Seokjin supposes its better than he’d been before- when he hadn’t even remembered to refer to Seokjin as his elder.

- Hoseok is a little cross at Jungkook for interrupting for a moment, Before he leans over the spellbook, his smile lighting up his whole face, his voice suddenly loud and mirthful “oh yes- please- Seokjin Hyung-”

- “What is it?” you call from where you sit, Yoongi putting a finger in his book and setting it aside so that he can watch, a gentle smile playing on his lips. one arm around your waist as you recline against him, leaning forward to slowly run his nose over your shoulder.

- Seokjin rolls his eyes, rising from the table and rolling up his sleeves, looking exasperated but ready for the challenge of doing a spell he’s never attempted. It’s far easier just to teleport that fly honestly. “Of course you’d want to fly- alright- come on then- to the middle of the room with you.”

- Yoongi starts to protest- that maybe inside isn’t the best place for this, but you put a hand on his arm, soothing him because you want to watch but you don’t want to move. You suppose with a ceiling- Jungkook can’t let his flying get out of hand. It’s probably better to be more contained. Both of you watch as Jungkook practically vibrates with energy. Hoseok is happy glancing at him too- “I can’t wait to fly with you Kookie- this way- we can go everywhere! And I don’t even have to carry you!”

- Hoseok and Jungkook had been trying to find a way to fly with Jungkook on Hoseok’s back for years. But he’d never been strong enough or large enough to handle Jungkook’s weight for more than a few minutes. He was getting stronger- but your boys are impatient.

- Seokjin humors both of them, holding both his hands out and when he starts to speak, the purple light flares at his fingertips. The stone at the center of his chest glowing too. You’d asked him about it a few days ago- and he’d said that each sorcerer needed some sort of channel- a magical object to give them the ability to link their soul to the magic humming all around them. And you watch it pulsate now as he speaks the words. Jungkook closes his eyes as the magic washes over him like a heavy blanket, his hair rising on end.

- Jungkook only hovers an inch above the ground before the magic rebound upon him- slipping off of him and sticking to Hoseok- who suddenly finds himself floating 4 feet above the ground. The spell stops and he touches down as Jungkook makes a disappointed grumble, crestfallen, “Why didn’t it work!”

- Seokjin blinks, looking down at his hands. “that’s strange” he says- before he asks Hoseok to step away- something about the soulbond interfering maybe. Both you and Yoongi watch on- your books set aside to watch.

- Jungkook is almost vibrating with excitement as Seokjin closes his eyes really concentrating this time, Hoseok waiting and watching behind him. You think something should be happening- until you realize that Yoongi and yourself are hovering a foot off of the couch.

- Seokjin sets you down easily. All of them laughing at you clinging to Yoongi when you realize you’re airborne frantically asking Seokjin to put you down. Yoongi’s gummy smile on display. Jungkook looks more and more put out by the second. “Let's go outside” Seokjin says, and your children head jauntily out after him, Jungkook lugging the spellbook under one arm, almost slipping in the grass under its weight.

- You and Yoongi are soft- piled up together. Yoongi’s long fingers dancing along the edge of your knuckles, rubbing over the little scars that you have here and there. You both watch as Seokjin tries and tries and tries- but Jungkook never gets more than a few inches off the grass. You can see the impression the magic makes in the grass as it rushes from Seokjin to Jungkook, making it stand up or fall down in place- like it’s some sort of wind.

- “There’s something I want to ask you- when we’ve got the chance I-“ Yoongi’s sentence is interrupted by Hoseok’s shout of “Uncle Jimin! Uncle Namjoon!” in the yard, Yoongi helps you up and sure enough- Namjoon and Jimin are touching down in the front yard. Hugging each of your sons, Seokjin and Namjoon embracing once Namjoon has a second to shift.

- Jimin is just doting on Jungkook and Hoseok, hugging them- thankful that they’re alright- when he looks up- clothed differently and less flamboyantly than he usually is. His simple flying gear dark and patterned, making him sleek and quicker as a flyer- so much so that you barely see him before he’s colliding with you- “are you okay we found your blood and the men and-“ their words rush out of them before you have a chance to blink-

- “I’m- I’m okay- a little banged up but- I’m fine Jimin” their face is panicked, Namjoon’s somber as they rush over. “We thought you were dead” he says, you can tell by his dimples- making a brief appearance that he’s happy to find you alive and relatively alright.

- Even now- Seokjin and Namjoon stand closer- as if by proximity they could make up for the distance of years- its hard to wrack your memory for the reason why but then you remember- they’re soul bonded partners. “Did you-“ Yoongi’s voice trails off. The feral glint in Jimin’s eye is more lethal than any you’ve ever seen in it- “I did” he says, relish in the words.

- Yoongi nods, letting out an uneven laugh “good” he pulls you closer by an arm around your waist. Because he hadn’t been able to get revenge and the knowledge that the men that had hurt you hadn’t gotten away- its enough for now. “Oh you mean- the dragon hunters?” Jimin smile is fanged when he looks at you.

- His hands are viselike on your upper arms as he tugs you close- whispers low in your ear. “No one hurts my family and gets away with It.“ you blush a little, unsure how to respond because that kind of loyalty is rare. and it does warm your heart a little.

- “There’s more though” Namjoon says, and it's then that you realize that he’s dressed much in the same way Jimin is. The clothes simple tight and black, Namjoon doesn’t look happy when he has to say the words. Age-old tiredness in his face.

- “That wasn’t any ordinary attack- it was ordered by the human king- to try to take you out before the fighting starts.” Yoongi and you straighten up, in the background, Hoseok and Jungkook stand a little closer, “the human king has declared eminent domain over all dragon lands. We’ll go to war within the month.”

- The argument that happens next isn’t what you expect- not at least- from Jimin and Namjoon. It ends with Yoongi slamming his hands down on a table in Seokjin’s study the sound loud and percussive. “No Namjoon- I won’t fucking fight.”

- You’re glad that your sons aren’t here- have been told by you to go explore- neither of them had seemed too upset about it- maybe just a little because they wanted to see Jimin and Namjoon- but not enough to question you. They understand how serious it must be for all of the adults to look so somber.

- Smoke curls over Yoongi’s chin. And the room fills with an ice-like chill from Namjoon as his temper flares. “I will not- nor will I ever again- fight another war for that blasted council. I have a family to keep safe now Namjoon- and I can’t believe you’d even ask-“

- “That’s exactly why I’m asking you Yoongi. How can you expect them to be safe without you?” he makes a flippant gesture with his hands, and next to you in the doorway where Jimin leans, he winces Yoongi recoiling already taking that wrong.

- “The last war took 33 years Namjoon, by that time- Y/n will be almost 70 and Jungkook will be aged too- you can’t expect me to waste what little time I might have left on something so-”

- “Hang on-“ Jimin interrupts; he’s been standing, leaning back against the doorway for the majority of this conversation. “When did you get so obsessed with time?” “Since I almost lost her Jimin, I can’t-”

- “You didn’t!?” Namjoon straightens up, looking at his soul-bonded partner aghast. “You didn’t fucking promise him something that you can’t even fucking do for Taehyung- Seokjin!”

- Seokjin flinches back, from where he sits at the table, trying to stay out of the argument, his face drawn. Hands clasped, leaning his chin on them. He doesn’t respond. “Neither of you get it!” Yoongi yells, hands bursting into flames by his side, hot furious tears budding at the corner of his eyes. “Both of you are immortal you don’t know what it’s like- watching the person you love almost die. I can’t- I won't stand by while I lose”

- Yoongi breaks off- glancing up at you, already stepping forward to comfort him, he swallows, meeting Namjoon’s furious glare. “I won't waste another day that I have with them- and neither should you- you both should fuck the council and side with us.”

- “Yoongi” you say. Your voice breaking, running to him- his hands extinguishing the second he even gets close to touching you. Because you hadn’t really realized how much this was affecting him. You hold onto him as strong he holds onto you. Namjoon and Jimin sigh, their fight and the chill in the air dissipating as they accept Yoongi’s choice. Jimin grasping at his hand. Namjoon looks at Yoongi- suddenly looking defeated. Seokjin won't look at him, keeps his eyes on the desk in front of him. “Alright- if you won’t fight I can’t make you, but Seokjin will you?”

- Seokjin shakes his head, his voice so quiet and thick with emotion- with hope. “If both of us are looking- it will be easier- twice as much brain power as one- with Yoongi by my side- we’ll make twice as much progress in a year.”

- You’ve been silent up until now, rubbing your face slowly into Yoongi’s shirt, Yoongi’s hands fisting in the back of your shawl tight around your shoulders. Since you nearly died- you’ve been colder than usual. There have been a lot of things said in this argument that you don’t understand. And from the somber way Seokjin speaks- you figure you should know.

- You’ve been letting them argue because as much as you care that your mate stays by your side- this isn’t a choice any of you should make for Yoongi. Even if you’re on his side, and don’t want him to waste another moment. to be parted from you for anyother moment. “What do you guys mean? Progress with what?”

- Jimin snorts, crossing his arms like it’s the confirmation that he needed. “See- you haven’t even asked her yet.”

- “Asked me what? I don’t understand,” you say at the same moment Namjoon looks over at the clock, checking the time. “We have to go- the council is having a meeting about this tomorrow night and if they’re going to call the garrison without you- they’ll need time to pick a replacement.”

- None of them have to look far- the only one who could replace Yoongi would be Namjoon himself- his second in command. Yoongi watches with a sick feeling in his stomach- at the possibility of Namjoon going to war without either Seokjin or himself by his side isn’t apealing. But then Yoongi looks at you- and the prospect gets a little easier to bear. Namjoon and Jimin leave, embracing you before they go, and you touch either of their cheeks telling them to be safe.

- And the three of you linger in study. Listening to Jimin and Namjoon hug Jungkook and Hobi on the patio outside and say goodbye at least for a little bit. Seokjin following them to say a few words to namjoon before he takes off. Because Namjoon and Jimin are sure to be busy for a while at least- this will take all of their attention. Damn Namjoon for his altruism and Jimin for his inability not to follow his mates led and stand by him. Yoongi wishes they would stay.

- Yoongi comes over to stand by you as you watch them get ready to take off, namjoon already shifted, Hoseok shifted too to jump on his back playfully teasing his uncle, he scrabbles with his claws against Namjoon’s slippery icy scales. and you can hear Jungkook, Jimin, and Seokjin’s giggles from here.

- Yoongi presses a hot kiss against the nape of your neck, and then your mouth when you turn your face to let him, and you can feel his frustration in it, all of the passion. Jimin and namjoon take off- leaving as quickly as he came. It’s easy for him to Wisk you away to a quiet part of the castle. Needing some quiet with you- to have you all to himself for just a little while.

- The kisses don’t stop even when he picks you up after you stumble. You barely even notice the rest of the castle passing in a blur as he carries you through it, kicking open the door to your bedroom.

- He lays you back on the bed gently as he can, his hands touching and brushing all over you. His movements almost fever mad with the need to touch “Yoongi” you say, breathless- a half moan as he touches you the way that makes you dizzy and close to falling apart at the seams. But he’s hard there- ready to keep you together but desperate.

- “Let me feel you just- let me taste you” he says, kissing down your collar bones and rucking up your shirt so he can mouth hungrily at the skin of your stomach, every touch of his desperate and Shaking. “Let me just-please- I know you’re tired but I’ll do I’ll the work- I’ll take care of you-”

- You don’t understand why he suddenly needs your skin on his more than he needs air in his lungs. Maybe its because it’s the first time since you’ve been injured- or maybe because he’d been so close to losing you and Jimin and Namjoon had just reminded him of it. Maybe it's a little bit of the guilt he feels for not being able to protect you and take care of you in the first place.

- And though you have so many questions, when Yoongi looks at you a little too emotional; you forget all your questions and kiss him back, touch him back when he shakes, because he looks so vulnerable right now- more than you’ve ever seen him.

- Your hand comes down to scratch around his horns in the way you know has had him coming at times, and he groans, low and breathless as he tugs down your pants. Shucking them off and hooking your knee over his shoulder fingers reaching down to part your wetness. The press of his long fingers making your back arch. His mouth as equally hot and wet on you as you feel.

- True to his word Yoongi does all of the work, and it leaves you feeling boneless and sated in the way only your mate can make you feel. It's sweaty and sensual but close more than anything as he slides into you and keeps you near, chest pressed to yours. his face buried in your shoulder, almost crying with how good it feels to be so connected to you. The kisses lingering and hot and thankful because you’re here- you’re here.

- “Yoongi?” you ask, alarmed when you realize he’s actually crying. Seated inside of you after he’s cum, hiding his face in your shoulder. “Baby what’s wrong?” he can barely speak, his voice raw when he looks up, lips pursed to keep his sobs in.

- “I can’t lose you- I can’t Y/n- I just can’t and that day- when I thought I had lost you” Yoongi is lost for words. “I just- I can’t keep going if you die, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

- “Not ‘if ‘though” you say, being honest with him, crying as you shake your head, “when right? Because I’m not immortal like you”

- Yoongi shakes his head, suddenly sitting up, “no- I mean if- if you die.”

- With little more than that Yoongi launches into his explanation, the story of Seokjin and Taehyung, and what that means for both of you. Eventually- you end up sitting up next to each other. Fingers and legs tangled together- Yoongi rushing over his words like a babbling brook. And slowly- what he means to do starts to take hold.

- The next morning, Seokjin knocks on the door to your bedroom. “Where are Hoseok and Jungkook?” you ask, finishing braiding your hair while Yoongi laces up his boots. Seokjin leans against the door in his silky purple robe, fiddling with its ties. “They’re eating breakfast- you don’t have to worry about them- they’re okay- a little angry with Jimin and Namjoon for leaving but they’ll be okay.” Seokjin looks like they’re more that he wants to say- but doesn’t. “Did you ever manage to put that spell on Jungkook?”

- “No- but for the life of me I’m going to figure out why” you can tell by the way he shakes his head that it’s not normal. Yoongi snorts a little, sitting behind you to fiddle with the tail of your braid a little. The action is almost subconscious. “It’s probably for the best- otherwise we’d have to clean him out of the rafters constantly.” Seokjin laughs at that- but still looks uncomfortable.

- “Did you-“ he turns to Yoongi to ask, but it’s you who answers. “He did.” Seokjin seems to straighten up- nodding softly. Holding out his hand for you to take it. “There’s something I want to show you then.”

- The boy in the glass coffin is something out of a dream. The flowers surrounding him of every single texture and fragrance, orange blossoms, jasmine, autumn clematis, datura, and sweet woodruff all in piles around the sleeping boy. Blanketing him in heaps of white, filling the room with an intoxicating scent.

- “Who is he?” you ask, watching the way that Seokjin tenderly rubs circles over the glass. Even underneath it- you can see how beautiful the boy is, gangly in his litheness, but with a strong jaw that spoke of a turning of age. You would have thought he was dead if not for the gentle rise of his chest in his pale white shirt. The collar parted a little to show his chest and the runes written on his skin.

- “His name Taehyung, he’s my lover,” Seokjin looks down at him like he’s about to cry, “Though a better word for us would be soulmates.” finally you know what Seokjin would see if he looked into the mirror in his study. And why he kept it covered- why look at an imitation when he had the real thing upstairs.

- There is nothing but the most gentle, the most aching love on Seokjin’s face, and also- the deepest sorrow. “Or like Yoongi calls me- his mate” you smile, tipping your shoulder into Seokjin to try and make that look go off his face, his eyes flicker from the sleeping man up to you. “Yes- I suppose that’s right.”

- “What’s wrong with him? why is he in there?” “I put him in an eternal sleep to stop his aging- until I can find a way for us to be together forever- and turn him immortal like me.” “So you’re going to try and turn him into a magician?”

- Seokjin shakes his head, “Not quite- it’s not possible for there to be more like me. if I could turn him into a sorcerer like me- then he’d be immortal. But Magic- it isn’t so easily tamed.” Seokjin looks down at his hands, the blue fire creeping between them like some sort of bug, winding back around his fingers, as quick as you can think it- the fire solidifies into a snake- all at once going back to fire- so quick you almost think you imagine it.

- “Magic is particular about its host. If it bonds with the wrong person it kills them- and almost everyone can’t take it. It’s only ever been my family who was able to take the magic. There hasn’t ever been another bloodline that’s been strong enough.”

- Yoongi had told you about Seokjin’s family. And you’d also seen one of the portraits hanging deep in the castle. Almost as tall as the room it’s self- the people painted at a one to one scale. Half a dozen people, and at the center of it- a chubby-cheeked Seokjin with those luminous purple eyes, probably no more than 6. Holding hands tightly with a female child with equally as haunting blue eyes. All of them- just gone. “And my bloodline is all dead or gone- there’s not much difference.”

- So Seokjin only has Taehyung and that glass coffin, he gets to watch his love sleep as long as he wants, but cannot touch him. Forever just too far away until he comes back to life. You watch as Seokjin leans- and puts his weight over Taehyung. If there was no glass, he would be lying across his lap.

- “Once a year I wake him up- on my birthday. Taehyung makes it my birthday present. But mostly it’s to make sure he hasn’t gotten lost wherever he is in his dreams. Sometimes it’s harder than others to get him to come back, but the good thing is that it just feels like a night has passed for him so he doesn’t have to miss me too much.”

- “Even though it’s been a year for you? Doesn’t it get lonely for you?”

- His fingers keep stroking lovingly over the glass of the coffin. “Its hard- but it’s not impossible. To get the chance to live with him forever- to get enough time with him- I’d do anything. One day a year is better than an eternity of nothing.” Seokjin turns his eyes on you, “Yoongi wants to do the same for you and Jungkook.”

- The breath gets knocked out of your lungs, as you turn it over in your head- eternal sleep, immortality, and all of it boiling down to Yoongi. Of course- he’d told you last night- but now it hits you- this room filled with flowers. Seokjin so close to his love and never able to touch him. When you think back to when you’d been stabbed- you remember some words- comforting- Yoongi’s voice that you’d held onto through the darkness. ‘I haven’t had nearly enough time with you yet’

- “But- Jungkook- he’s only a child.”

- “He killed a man for you, Y/n, he’s not a child anymore, neither is Hobi” you can’t help it. You wipe your tears away with the back of your hand. “I want to talk with Yoongi again,” Seokjin pushes up from his lovers bedside, his hand lingering on the glass coffin- aching to reach inside and touch him for sure- but he can’t. You don’t want to imagine Yoongi in the same fate.

- You wait while Seokjin gets Yoongi, looking at Taehyung thinking about yourself locked in some sort of glass contraption. The more you look at Taehyung- the more something about him sticks out. You hear footsteps behind you. Seokjin leaves the two of you to talk for a moment. Intent on retrieving some tea for the three of you. It’s still barely before noon. “I think I may have dreamed about him one point- years ago. There’s something familiar about his face.”

- Yoongi puts his hand on the side of the glass as if to touch Taehyung. “Did you know him?” “Only for a little while- but just enough to understand why Seokjin could never bear loosing him. In many ways Taehyung is what makes the world sweet for Seokjin- no point in living if all there is only bitterness.”

- “Is that how- is that how you feel about me? Is that what would happen to you if I died? When I die?” Yoongi pulls you close, and before he can manage to pin his emotions inside of his fire-filled chest they spark up like embers and he’s crying- holding you close. “Don’t say that just yet. But it is.” there is nothing else needed but that- Yoongi’s face pinned to your shoulder, his hands holding you like he knows he wont be able to protect you from the world and all the horrors in it.

- Seokjin walks back in- carrying a tray piled high with cookies and a pot full of tea that smells sweet. Yoongi holds you around your shoulders while you sit, too tired, and still weak from your injury to stand any longer. You don’t look at Seokjin much when you talk, only at Taehyung.

- “I don’t want one day a year- not with Jungkook and Hobi being so young. And Yoongi doesn’t want me to wait either so- if you can give me one day a month until Jungkook turns 18. We think that could be enough. And if- if Jungkook wants the same treatment, he can choose it for himself. But we can’t make that choice for him. If he doesn’t choose it then I don’t- I won’t-”

- Yoongi brushes his hands over yours, “we don’t even know- let's ask him first before you start talking like that” But you both think that Jungkook will want it too- even if it could mean an eternity asleep. You’re already doing the math in your head. Putting it together how much time they’d have left to figure out a cure for your mortality.

- One day a year with a lifespan of about 80 years- that means Seokjin and Yoongi had around 15,000 years before you died to find a way to make you like them. It wasn’t easy- Yoongi couldn’t help but feel like they didn’t have enough time. Seokjin’s been looking for a little over 100 and he hasn’t found much at all.

- “There is one other thing” Seokjin looks worried- too worried to ask this of both of you. You catch him clutching Jungkook’s baby blanket like it could be a lifeline again- for the hundredth time since you’ve come here. He’d taken it a few days ago to study it- try and see if he could put a tracking spell on it to find the owner. But unfortunately- the spell only leads back to Jungkook. Not too surprising since it had been in his possession for so long. “If- if Jungkook’s ancestors are somehow connected to my sister's disappearance, then I need to know.”

- “Seokjin” Yoongi isn’t full of reproach- only pity- because before now- Seokjin’s never doubted the fact that his sister was dead. That was the only reason why she ever would have left him, or stayed away for the last hundred or so years.

- Seokjin shakes his head “Only a sorcerer could have put done this spell Yoongi. if it was a witch it would have worn off years ago. and I’m the last one of my family left and I didn’t do the spell. If my sister is still out there- then I need to find out. I need you to show me where you found him.”

- Seokjin turns to where you sit by his loves bedside, through it all; Taehyung’s chest rises up and down. He turns a little fitful in his sleep. “Taehyung won’t wake for another three weeks- if we go tomorrow- we can be there and back in one. I don’t trust Taehyung with anyone.” his eyes flash with a flood of purple, dangerous as he stares at you, “but I think I can trust you- that’s my price. I’ll put you to sleep like him if you look over him for me while we’re gone.”

- You nod softly, “that’s more than reasonable” “make sure your children don’t terrorize my castle either” Seokjin rubs at his temples. “God they’re- Hoseok is entirely re-ordering my series on shrinking spells- he thinks he’s putting them back right but- ugh- it's going to take me an age to put them back in order”

- “You can feel what they’re doing?” you ask surprised. “I can feel everything” Seokjin says, melancholy and bleak. “Everything that goes on in this castle if I’m not distracted enough- it kind of gets-” Seokjin’s chest heaves a little unevenly. “Overwhelming. That’s why I can’t live close to anyone all of their thoughts and wants and needs on display- like you. I can tell that you want Yoongi to sit closer to you because you're worried about what he’ll be like when he can't touch you, and I can tell that he’s still calculating something- and it’s making you nervous- please stop- it’s making everything worse Yoon.”

- Yoongi straightens up, his cheeks blushing a little before he pulls his chair closer to yours. You give up after a moment, standing up to sit in his lap. Seokjin doesn’t look uncomfortable- only mollified. Still shaky. “Taehyung used to be the only thing that would make it better-“

- “Can you tell what he’s dreaming of?” the way that he’s looking at Taehyung, it’s like he wishes he could lean forward and pulls him closer. Curl up with him on his lap the same way Yoongi is doing with you.

- “Sometimes” his fingers tap on the glass, “but most of the time it’s hard to see through the glass. And it’s almost worse then- because when you can see your love- but you can’t touch them or hold them or talk with them- it almost makes it worse” he turns to Yoongi sharply. “I guess you’ll find out.”

- Seokjin’s chest is still heaving unevenly and it makes you alarmed- especially when you see one of the roses by the window shake so hard all its petals fall off- you can almost feel it- the way the air trembles. A glass bottle on the shelf rattles, and nearly falls off the edge before it’s pushed back.

- Seokjin’s hands shake too. You reach out- gently covering Seokjin’s hands with yours over the glass coffin. “If you can’t see him- maybe talking about him will help calm you down” your voice is low and honeyed- like you’re comforting a startled doe.

- Yoongi can see the way Seokjin visibly shutters at the contact- almost shakes too much and Yoongi curses himself a little internally. His friend has been on his own for so long and it’s so painful to see. He’s so incredibly starved for human touch. Seokjin leaves his hand under yours over the glass casket, lets you touch him even though it looks like it’s overwhelming to him- so much so that it almost hurts.

- Yoongi knows what that feels like- remembers feeling much the same the first time he’d ever touched you- those first lingering touches- when you’d pass him baby Jungkook- or the feel of his son in his arms- such a slight boneless weight, warm and soft in all the most endearing ways.

- You’re such a natural healer- and Seokjin looks so distraught- so achingly lonely- you can’t not reach out and try to make it better. If he’s going to give you Yoongi your family forever- the least you can do is offer him this.

- “Taehyung was- Taehyung is an effervescent person.” Seokjin looks at his love when he says the words- soft and slow. “There are certain people that only come along once in a lifetime- that you are destined to meet. My sister- she was the fortuneteller of the family- she was the one who always saw what was going to happen to us before it did. And if she’d been able to meet him- I’m sure she would have said it was fate, because there isn’t any other explanation for him loving me.”

- “Humanity is a delicate thing- you all- chase immortality like you should want it- like memories should be eternal- but they aren’t. It didn’t use to bother me- not being able to remember where I was born or how I grew up- but Taehyung- Taehyung made me not want to forget a single second.”

- “He was a farm boy, grew up with a big family as poor as could be but never with an empty stomach. even now, if I think hard enough- I can still taste his peach tart on my tongue. He makes it for me every year on my birthday. I wake him up and he makes me a peach tart and we eat it. Tae calls it “every day a birthday”

- “He’s the one who made me put him to sleep you know- I was prepared to live with him until he died and then- find a way to end my life myself- I wanted it- I more than wanted it but Tae- he saw right through me. He almost died just before. Got hit in the head during one of the last battles.”

- Seokjin looks at Yoongi, and Yoongi nods. “I remember, Namjoon and I were fighting on the mountainside, and we saw this black cloud flood the valley- like smoke. And by the time it dissipated, there was only Seokjin and Tae left.” you bristle internally- wondering how powerful the man who sits across from you is if he can fell an army in a single day.

- “I put him to sleep so that I could heal him- so that he wouldn’t die. The initial spell wasn’t much different than the one that’s on him now. I stitched him together cell by cell until his brain was healed. I was so worried when he woke up that he wouldn’t remember me but he did- and the first words out of his mouth were; ‘I knew you would die for me- but you also have to live Jinnie- both of us do- I’m not letting me be the reason you die.”

- You look up sharply at Yoongi when he intakes a jagged breath- “would you do the same for me Yoongi?” he can’t answer, only keeps holding your hand. And you know just by the way his eyes flood with tears and his shoulders hunch in that yes- that is the case.

- Suddenly you’re flustered, standing up, “Okay this is a lot- we need to hug it out” you gesture expectantly with your open arms, suddenly not able to handle all of the emotion in the room without doing something about it.

- Yoongi gives an aborted protest at you standing. And Seokjin flushes all the way to his ears again. Both of them folding in around you- your arm coming up to loosely tug Seokjin into your arms and he goes gratefully after a moment of reluctance. Both of them holding onto you limply. “I don’t get hugs a lot.” Seokjin says, his voice sounding small and shy.

- “Well it’s a good thing I have some to spare.” Yoongi gives you a thankful look before he tucks his face in close kissing your forehead and then dragging burying his face in your shoulder. both of them taller than you, hunched over to hug you properly.

- The three of you hug for a bit and then you pull apart first- because as much as you are always happy to comfort him. Your side is starting to ache a little- and you need to sit down. Both of them understand, even if you do see Seokjin’s hand reach out a little at first- unwilling to part with his first source of human comfort in a little less than a year.

- “Tell me more- tell me all of the good things” Seokjin launches into the story of when they first met without a second thought- smiling this time. Yoongi sends you a thankful look. Somewhere along the line. The room has stopped shaking with Seokjin’s tremulous emotions. And with his focus firmly on all of the happy memories he has with Taehyung he relaxes a little.

- All in all though, it might not be the best moment for him to lose his concentration. As your 15 and 13-year-old sons are left unchaperoned in a house full of very magical and very dangerous objects and spellbooks. Not the best moment for Seokjin to be occupied.

- If he hadn’t been so distracted, he might have realized sooner- before it was too late.

- Jungkook and Hoseok have found their way through the library and into a second more hidden library, then down a set of steps that where slippery with moss- through a separate hidden passageway and then through a door- which didn’t open for Hoseok- and then miraculously and for some unknown reason opened for Jungkook. (But don’t worry- you’ll discover why in the next 5,000 words or so- so please be patient)

- “Huh- Seokjin- Hyung was really right- the spells really won’t work on you” Jungkook just shrugs, happily shoving back the heavy iron door using all his body weight to push it open. “He should have put a real lock on it- then that might have kept me out”

- Hoseok smiles at Jungkook’s cockiness- only 13 and Hoseok can only think that if Jungkook where a character in one of your storybooks, He could have been a formidable child thief. “And besides what do they expect- we don’t have anything to do here. It's his fault for not giving us something to do!”

- When Jungkook grins at Hobi- Hobi can almost feel the future. The mischief that both of them are going to get into once Hoseok gets large enough to carry them both around the world- they want to see it all.

- Hoseok is glad- after a few days of being in a dream-like fog- it seems as though Jungkook is almost back to normal. There have been a few moments- one where he saw Jungkook flinch back from some warm water- washing up for dinner. And another, when he’d washed the clothes they’d been in that day to get out the blood. But other than that- he seems to be handling everything as well as can be expected.

- Hoseok knows (as Hoseok always knows) that Jungkook is waiting for the right time to vent to you and Yoongi about it. Hoseok wants to too- and figure out why he doesn’t feel as affected- and it’s not like he feels heartless- like he doesn’t care that he killed people. No- he feels guilty but he figures those men had made a choice just like Hoseok had made a choice.

- The room is piled high with all but the creepiest of things- crystals glow a dull purple in the wall- as glass eyes curl and blink from a few crevasses here and there where the plaster has fallen away and the bricks are exposed. Glittering potion bottles, teeth in glass jars as well as something fluffy and black that taps at the side of one with sharp claws.

- A glowing sphere here and there- nothing too bad- nothing too out of the ordinary. Stacks of black leather diary’s stacked on a shelf- more shelves crammed with things. Jungkook dashes off before with a happy hum before Hoseok can keep up, preoccupied with taking everything in. The younger disappearing through the maze of shelves and piles.

- Hoseok’s wades through the collection slower. There is something about the smell down here, Hoseok’s nose smarting with something acrid, that he doesn’t like- doesn’t want to be around at all. “Jungkookie?” Hoseok calls, walking through the isles of potions and books; somehow he’d lost sight of jungkook almost immediately. He walks too quickly, almost knocking over a fishbowl full of squids with human faces. His head bumping into some sort of crusty dried plant- the flower blooms when he touches it- but then dies when he moves away.

- For some reason he feels like he should apologize to it- and when he does- the flower bows back. A shiver works his way down his spine. A feeling like he’s being watched by something old and ancient sinking its claws into the back of his neck. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

- “Ugh... Kookie! I don’t think we should be down here!” he calls, looking frantically around for his companion. and then he spots Jungkook, or the back of his head, walking forward slowly. It’s then that he sees it, set into a wall of shelves, a glass box faintly glowing, its door sliding open with a faint squeak.

- Hoseok can feel the pounding in his ears strengthen as Jungkook walks towards it growing closer to thunder. the light in the box, a long glowing stick that can only be described as a wand pulsing in time with the thundering in his ears- probably in Jungkook’s too. He shouts Jungkook’s name again but he doesn’t turn.

- When Hoseok speaks it feels like he’s talking through water, runs forward to pull Jungkook back from the box, because whatever it is it can’t be good but the younger just pushes him off. It’s then that Hoseok realizes that something is wrong- terribly wrong.

- Jungkook’s eyes are wide, pupils dilated and glassy, lips parts as he stares at the wand, not even seeing Hoseok, “Kookie- stop I don’t think we should mess with-“ before Hoseok can stop him, Jungkook is reaching out, touching the wand. It’s so gentle, almost a caress. Hoseok sees it- the moment Jungkook’s brown eyes flood with bright blue- and the world explodes in a cloud of energy and magic.

- Seokjin is just telling you about the time that Taehyung tried to convince Seokjin into dying Taehyung’s hair bright pink when he pauses in the middle of a sentence. Mouth hanging open for a second before he’s cursing and disappearing in a flash- one moment present and the next not. You and Yoongi hear his voice a moment later- booming out with some sort of spell. “The basement- they found their way into- shit- fuck!”

- You and Yoongi break out into a run, and the house seems to move around you- aiding in guiding you towards them- the floors sloping down when you need and doors opening seconds before you pass them almost making Yoongi almost collide to one of them more than once. Yoongi keeps a hand on your side- supporting you enough that it barely hurts when you run. “Not that way you idiot- this way.”

- The belly of the castle gets progressively darker, glowing crystals hanging in alcoves and mushrooms growing in crevasses. Little hidden creatures that definitely are not mice making little screeching noises and running from the direction of where Seokjin guides you. Every living thing- even the moss on the walls, slowly itching away from whatever’s happened down there. You can’t run as quickly on account of your wounds but Yoongi doesn’t let you walk alone. Supporting you as you hobble along.

- “Jungkook!” you shout when you see- your son, floating a few feet above in the air, a diffuse cloud of light blue fog surrounding him- Seokjin is quick to stop you with a hand, “don’t touch him! If you want to live we can’t touch him!” Yoongi catches you around your waist just in time. Keeping you from lunging for your son. your shrill shriek of “Jungkook! Hoseok!”

- Seokjin holds his arms stiff, his hands and fingers bent at awkward angles. Magic sparking between his fingers, the bright purple fire morphs into bubbles on the end of each finger-popping off as they float to Jungkook. Combining and growing in size- encasing him in a glassy cage. Seokjin is the one keeping Jungkook contained, the only thing that separates you all from life- and oblivion.

- A pile of books stirs next to you and a fully shifted Hoseok stirs, tossing books to the ground and sneezing in all of the dust. Shifting in a smooth movement, Yoongi reaching out to touch him- to make sure he’s there an uninjured. “Oh Hobi- oh” you try as he runs to you shifting mid-step, hitting each other and holding on, his head tucked under your chin.

- “What happened!? What did you touch!?” Seokjin silences your protests of his tone with a look. “Just a- a wand I think?” Hoseok is small and scared in your arms. Seokjin looks enraged. “Don’t you know not to touch other people's things? Jungkook could have blown this castle and half the country to dust! And now he’s-“

- Seokjin chokes, the magic taking the air out of his lungs, he stumbles, but straightens. Making another complex movement with his hands when the bubble tries to swell. Contained by both his hands now- not just one. “Now it might be too late.”

- “Seokjin- what happened to him- can he be-” “Yoongi please- it’s all I can do to keep this contained- he must have-” Seokjin cannot meet Yoongi’s eyes, “The wand is trying to bind with him.” The glowing stone at the center of Seokjin’s own chest seems to glow and pulsate stronger at the words. Yoongi almost falls to his knees- no- not Jungkook. You and Hoseok are confused, horror on Yoongi’s face, Hoseok already stepping in-between you and Jungkook- like that will keep you safe from whatever threat.

- “What does this mean?” it hits him, almost makes him fall to his knees, Hoseok can’t breathe. He can’t feel Jungkook’s soul bond at all- not an inch of it. The light in his chest- the glowing soft press that always lets him know that he’s not alone- isn’t there anymore.

- Seokjin says the words steady, the way only an immortal can. “It means Jungkook is going to die. And if I don’t keep this bubble around the magic- so will all of us.”

- Jungkook doesn’t know what happened, one moment he was standing in that room and the next he’s being blown back, back through the darkness and a strange pulsating blue light and into a dark unfamiliar night.

- Also- straight into a puddle. His hands hit the mud dark water soaking his clothes- He splutters as the rain hits his face, his eyes focusing on the dark tree line. The buildings- peaked roofs with bright green tiles- different. He’s never seen them or any that looked like them before. But there are lights in the houses.

- He stands, his back and pant legs soaked with rain, he figures- there must have been some sort of transporting spell on whatever he touched (because he’d been reading Seokjin’s spell books every chance he gets and he’d discovered that those are a thing). A sudden horror fills him- because wherever he is- it’s certainly not close to Seokjin’s. The air feels colder here- closer to winter than to summer. Strange- he can almost see his breath exhaled in a cloud of blue when he heaves a shaking breath.

- He’s scared for about half a moment- before he hears the telltale whistle of dragon wings- almost unnoticeable- and he see’s the black wings faintly in the night sky, blocking out the stars. A sight he can recognize only because he’s seen it before countless times. Thank god- he thinks- because where ever he’s managed to end up Yoongi has still found him.

- He starts to run, almost calling out his name. He ends up face to face with him after Yoongi lands soundlessly knowing to stay a little ways back incase his dad doesn’t see him yet. Yoongi’s eyes sparking with a familiar yellow glow when he runs forward to greet him. “I don’t know what happened dad, one moment I was there and now I’m-”

- It surprises him- when Yoongi opens his maw and spits fire.

- He flinches, but it only takes him opening his eyes realizing that he’s not dead he’s not burning. The fire isn’t going around him- but through him he realizes when he holds his hand up. He’s confused- his mind tries to justify that it’s just a spell- the last few weeks have led him to assume that- the amount of charms that he’d begged and bugged Seokjin to put on him. (Much to the elder's frustration when the vast majority of spells just don’t work) Some sort of protective charm it must be. Like the one on his scarf that Seokjin had seemed so so interested in.

- He hears the screaming- the ear-piercing shrieking as the people run out of their houses- a gong sounds. But its already too late. “Dad- you’ve got to stop why are you-” but Yoongi just barrels through him, pulling down the roof of a house with one grab of a claw. Jungkook realizes that he must be dreaming when he tries to grab a sword sitting by the stoop of one of the houses and his hand goes straight through the handle.

- Jungkook stares at his hand for a moment- Dreaming- this must be a dream- that’s the only justification for why Yoongi would be doing this- why he would ignore Jungkook and why he would be hurting all of these people.

- All of the carnage- the people burning and screaming- some of them running, trying to roll on the ground to put their burning clothes out. Jungkook stands in the middle of it all- powerless to do anything. Jungkook watches as Yoongi tosses one back against a tree. The mans back breaking with an audible shatter that jars his ears.

- When the carnage stops He’s crying, climbing over a broken house. looking into the face of a charred corpse when Yoongi finally shifts human. “Dad” he’s crying when he tries to walk to him. “Why did you do this? Why did you hurt these people? Please I need to know- I can’t-”

- Yoongi doesn’t respond, looks at the surrounding world with disgust and hatred, and turns to walk away- he can’t hear Jungkook- can’t hear him at all. “FUCK- JUST LOOK AT ME GOD DAMN IT!” Jungkook shouts, near hysterical. He feels his words startle something- a small flinch under the boards in his feet. And suddenly a shrill crying starts up.

- That makes Yoongi turns at that, surprise in his face, he moves a heavy board and Jungkook moves to let him. He recognizes the red baby blanket first- how many times had he twined that little thing around his neck- loving the familiar comfort of the fabric. The squirming little thing is small- probably no more than 6 months old at the most, blood on his cheek.

- Jungkook reaches a hand to touch the scar on his face. “That’s me isn’t It.” no one is there to answer it as he watches. Looks- and doesn’t understand what he’s seeing.

- It’s- this is a memory- not a dream.

- The baby version of himself settles into Yoongi’s arms and Jungkook watches his father look at him. A sudden gentleness in his eyes. “Don’t- don’t leave me here dad- don’t let me die please” his words fall on unhearing ears but the rain starts up again. And Jungkook watches as Yoongi uses his body to shield the small red mass from the deluge above. His words are soft and shaky, “it’s okay- don’t cry- it’s gonna be fine I’ll- I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

- A tugging fixes in his gut- a feeling like he’s just about to vomit and then he’s thrown into the next memory. He’s at the cottage. The one he barely remembers- but the leaky roof, the chicken coup, and the front porch- that he knows. The times he’d fallen up those two steps. The soft feeling of a baby chick in his hands, a drop of water falling on his cheek- that he remembers.

- Unlike before- this world is all golden tones- the trees shining bright green. A happy memory at golden hour. And on the front porch leaning against the railing- you and Yoongi stand a few inches apart, and he can tell just by looking at you that you haven’t quite fallen in love yet.

- Your voices low- you don’t seem to notice Jungkook standing in the grass, but he hadn’t really expected either of you to see him at this point. To his left- he hears a noise- a startling in the chicken coop, a chicken indignant at being bothered, a small body chasseing them.

- “You’ve never told me- how you got Jungkook you know? And if we’re going to do this co-parenting thing, I feel like that’s something I should know.” Your words knock Jungkook’s attention from the younger version of himself back to you both. Standing next to each other- not letting your shoulders brush, but he see’s you lean a little and gathers that you might want too.

- “Do you want the truth- or a pretty lie?” your smile is small, Yoongi’s too. “The truth is preferable- we’ll have more than enough time to lie to each other”

- “Did you kill his parents?” Jungkook can tell the sudden question startles Yoongi. By the way his jaw goes tight and his eyes go down. Won’t meet yours. “It’s alright if you did- not much we can do about it now.”

- “Are you sure?” Yoongi asks, “yes- I think if we raise him at all well- when he finds out- it will hurt sure. But if we raise him well enough he’ll know that you didn’t have a choice.” Your voice dies in your throat. When you see Yoongi’s crestfallen expression. “Yoongi what are you thinking?”

- “I’m thinking that He’ll hate me when he finds out- he should hate me- you should hate me- do you know how many humans I’ve killed? How much blood is on my hands? You shouldn’t- I shouldn’t-’”

- Jungkook sees Yoongi flinch back when you reach out to him- on the porch, Jungkook can hear a giggle- a small black head of hair that must be his own poking up in the tall grass. Chasing a chicken through the underbrush in his direction. God- he doesn’t ever remember being that small.

“Yoongi” you try to stop him as he spills out into the soft grass. A few feet from where Jungkook stands. Golden light shining overly bright in his black horns. “I should go.”

- You look scared when you ask, “are you going to come back?” “I don’t know” he’s being honest Jungkook realizes, hand on the railing. You look so much younger than Jungkook ever remembers seeing you.

- The chicken dashes across Jungkook’s path, and in the grass- a small body tottels- Jungkook looks down at himself, so small and innocent- even now- adventurous. And for a brief moment, he stares into his own eyes- and sees a flash of curiosity in his child self’s face. Jungkook looks around to find something his child self might be staring at and finds nothing but himself. The young boy reaches up a hand and lets out a happy giggle- pointing at Jungkook like he can see him.

- The next moment is much like the first, all dark and black tones. Only this time the earth is sandy and sooty beneath his feet. There are so many of Hobi’s kind here- great big birdlike dragons. But it’s also as chaotic as the first. The world on fire red feathers falling from the sky. Jungkook is inside of an unfamiliar house looking out the window.

- Jungkook can hear the men shouting outside, as he looks around the house- the nest. It’s a simple accept for the golden plate wear and the shining tapestry on the wall. He hears a crash a roar. And massive being crashes into the doorway as fire roars outside. The dragon shifts- the woman limping in her human form- her golden horns polished and sharpened to points on either side of her cheeks.

- “Hoseok! Hoseok baby we have to go- go with your sister and get out of here” a small redhead- his soulmates head pokes up from underneath the kitchen table his horn catches on the edge as he stands sending the gold plate wear clanging to the ground. He runs for the woman, his little hands fisting in her long patterned skirt. “No! I won’t leave without you alpha!” the woman grabs a long sword hanging by the door. “Stay here- your sister will be back in a moment! I can’t stay my little hatchling” she turns away, tearing Hoseok’s hands from where they clutch at her skirt forcefully.

- And Jungkook watches, horror-stricken as Hoseok heads out after her. So small, shouldering his arms as he heads out into the bloodbath- too young to understand. Too young to understand and yet Jungkook knows that Hoseok will grow up a lot today- that he won’t ever really be the same. “Stop Hobi- you can’t“ Hoseok’s head whips around at the last moment, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion, looking around the room for the source of the voice- but sees nothing. Continuing on after a moment.

- The next few memories are a flurry- go too fast for Jungkook to really gather what they mean, one after another. The memories piling over each other like pages in a book. Hoseok in dragon form looking down at a younger version of himself, his tongue flicking out to lick at his cheek. Dialogue from you and Yoongi spoken through the darkness. “How did this happen- how did they get through the mountains?”

- Yoongi’s voice answering your question. “Happens more often than you think- it’s easier to get through in the south- where the snow doesn’t fall as thick. My parents died in much the same way.” The fog around Jungkook thickens, sinking into his lungs and choking him. Jimin voice- not yours, delicate and lilting. The sensation of a hand dragging through his hair. Asleep by a fireplace with the taste of the salty ocean on his tongue.

- “Dragons and humans are like separate sides of the same coin- can’t stab one without running through the other.” Yoongi agreeing, “A nest gets raided- and a dragon like me gets sent to kill a whole town. If we keep fighting- the bloodshed is never going to end Namjoon.”

- The next time Jungkook lands on even footing, he’s in the cave in the mountains and everything is golden again. He can see out the wide opening from this angle, and when he sees the green dragon in the sky circling above. He remembers this day, the first time he’d seen a dragon that wasn’t Hobi or Yoongi. He remembers how scared he’d been- Yoongi attacking with an almost feral power. He looks back into the cave as the dragon descends to your spot in the rocks waiting for his father to take action and protect you.

- But Yoongi still isn’t turning, still doesn’t see what’s about to happen, Jungkook’s anxiety builds as he sees the dragon start into a low spiral. Spotted you in the rocks. Jungkook looks down and sees a red head and a black head dancing here and there as they play a game that Jungkook’s forgotten the rules of. Looking back at Yoongi- any moment now- Yoongi will realize what’s about to happen, any moment now he’ll come to your rescue.

- But time ekes on- precious seconds- his father will be too late if he doesn’t go now. And you will die. Jungkook doesn’t think- just runs over and tugs- actually tugs on Yoongi’s sleeve.

- This time- his hand doesn’t just go through Yoongi, this time he actually touches him. “Did you want a snack?” Jungkook tugs again, because Yoongi still isn’t turning. When Yoongi turns he still sees no one there. He calls his name once, and then Hobi’s and by that time he sees, he’s jumping through the opening to fly to your aid leaving Jungkook standing in that cave.

- Jungkook feels his shoulders curl in on himself, “I want to go home- please just- take me back” and the cloud that surrounds him- what can only be magic- listens to him.

- This is different than Jimin's plant magic, the wordless sort of magic that has the world leaning in. The kind makes the world stop in place and turn around him. Every inch of intent spoken by his mouth an order that time will bow too.

- If dragons and humans are two sides of the same coin- then so are Seokjin and Jungkook.

- Jungkook wakes up- his eyes shooting open in the bubble- no whites of his eyes, only bright blue. The bubble bursts in a flash of power and light that hits you like a gale. Its only Yoongi’s quick thinking that keeps you and Hoseok from falling backward. Even Seokjin has to bring up an arm to shield his eyes from the flash of blinding light. Jungkook hits the floor with his hands out, catching himself before he falls.

- “I don’t hate you” is the first thing he says when he lifts his head, chest heaving scrambling to his feet. Running to Yoongi without a second thought tears in is eyes.

- “What- Kookie-“ Yoongi barely comprehends his youngest throwing his arms around his neck, pulling him in close tightly for a bruising hug. “it’s okay- you’re safe now Jungkook” Jungkook pulls back- a smile in his face and tears in his eyes. “Dad I really don’t- I saw it- I saw you- the night you got me- and you need to believe me- I don’t hate you.”

- “Jungkook what are you talking about,” Hoseok asks, disbelieving, so relieved to feel the soulbond back in place in his chest that he’s breathless. Jungkook looks between your faces- one after the other. Smiling so wide his nose scrunches. “I saw it- your memories, the night you found me! I was going to be a dragon hunter wasn’t I? But I wouldn’t have wanted to be. That’s why you didn’t let me fight, but I love you guys- I’d never hurt you- I understand why you did what you did and this doesn’t change a thing- I understand everything now.”

- “Well that makes one of us- is anyone going to tell me what just happened?” Hoseok snarks. “I don’t know either Hobi,” you say, shaking your head. But Yoongi is almost crying as Jungkook’s words hit him. Because how could it be? how does he know? and does he really understand? His first instinct is to believe that Jungkook couldn't. but then, when he sees Jungkook’s face, sad- but not angry- not at Yoongi at least, all of the fight going out of him.

- That’s the second time Jungkook ever sees his father cry. Touching his cheek and pulling him in. “My little hatchling I-“ he’s at a loss for words, something that feels like pride and hope clawing its way- vicious and golden up through his chest.

- Yoongi’s arms reach out- tugging the four of you close- he can barely get his arms around you all- the three people that matter the most in the world to him. All in one spot. Yoongi holds onto the three of you tighter, like his own arms will be enough to shield them from the horrors of the world.

- Besides all of you Seokjin falls to his knees, his eyes unable to leave Jungkook. Uneven breath heaving in his chest- his focus- his whole world narrowing down to Jungkook too.

- “I’m not- I’m not alone- I can’t believe it- I-”

- The four of you look up where Seokjin sits, pulling himself over on his knees his trembling hands reaching out for Jungkook. A part of you that feels fiercely protective wants to reach out and stop him from touching your son- too soon after having him in mortal peril. “Seokjin- what do you mean?” beside you, Hoseok straightens up; letting out a small sigh of relief- this has been a stressful 30 minutes- that’s for certain.

- “Hold out your arm Jungkook” Jungkook does, where once his forearms had been bare, now a light hovers below his skin. a line of brilliantly glowing blue the length of his forearm. The magic wand embedded in his skin where it will sit for the end of time- or until Jungkook dies- whichever comes first.

- The veins in his arms glowing too- taking the magic to the rest of his body. Not rejecting it at all- but growing to accommodate the magic, which has chosen Jungkook as his host.

- The four of you huddle around him, and when Hoseok tries to reach out and touch it too- a little bolt of lightning sparks and shocks him he flinches But reaches forward again- in awe anyway. Pleased to find the same thing doesn’t happen the second time when he clenches the hand of his soul-bonded partner.

- “If you where human bonding with the wand would have killed you” Seokjin’s hands are soft on Jungkook’s arm as he traces the line of the wand almost lovingly. “What does it mean” Jungkook breathes, the wand feels Bulging and hard underneath Jungkook’s skin not uncomfortable, but not pleasant either.

- “It means that you’re not human Jungkook- you’re a sorcerer like me.”

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