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simpjaes · 2 months

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ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT.1 (P.SH)

Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club. ― part two here!! | MINORS DNI

PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader

WORDCOUNT ― 20.4k

CONTENT ― modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire trope i use is the act of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, mentions of reader being alt/goth

SIDE CHARACTERS― jungwon as your very very best friend who has an installation at the museum (you guys are attached at the hip), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club, some goth guy named balor

!WARNINGS! ― dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), hunting and playing victim, a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death, acts of mind control/luring

NOTE ― here is part one of the first vampire fic i've ever felt compelled to write in my life. shout out to me, myself, and i for being entirely deranged and coming up with on a whim based on a song a lovely anon sent to me. this is semi-proof read, and does require two parts to get the full story.

tags under cut

smut tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic] ― big meat sunghoon, biting, A LOT OF BLOOD, sucking and drinking of blood obv, pussy eating (once while reader is menstruating, and another time where she isn’t), deep penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex bc like…he’s dead so lmfao, missionary, scratching, dirty talk, body worship, praise, jungwon is involved in a bit of an erotic situation but there is not smut involving him,

other tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic]― depictions of death, anti-religious language, the act of dying including intense descriptions of the feeling, mentions of pimping and human trafficking, corrupt government, dead nuns, funerals

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Upon moving to this city, all you have in your mind is the future. Of what could possibly come of you here? The museum is truly beautiful, propped in the center of the historic district, a mere ten or so blocks from your newly renovated apartment.

Years worth of study has led you here and honestly you’re sure you never would have found this city as lovable as it is if it weren’t for those credit hours you poured into art history and architecture. Truly, you feel at home here. Especially working within the historic district at that beautiful museum.

The rest of the city is quite modern. A bit boring to look at if you’re being honest but, thankfully, your place of work offers much for the eye to devour. The museum itself is quite victorian, with rococo styling throughout. Many could call this an eye sore, but you find yourself loving every inch of the place. You feel like a willow wisp in the clutches of that museum, and honestly you’re more than excited to grow bored of seeing such beauty on a day to day basis.

Across the street sits another old building, also victorian in style. The large and tacky sign glowing with neon lights that reads “AFTER LIFE” goes to show that it’s very clearly a club. And the attire of those who go to and fro through the doors only further proves that it’s more than just that. It’s a goth club.

Which, arguably, high-school you would’ve died to be able to attend. Thankfully, that little goth girl inside of you still lives strong and surely the club will be a place you’ll frequent during your free time. It’s not too hard to dress the part considering you are an art loser. The majority of your clothing consists of black, colored hair, and wild make up anyway. All you gotta do is forego the ratty coveralls or the typical business quirky you go for at work and you’re good to go.

Last but not least regarding the charm of the historic district, your favorite site. One that is so profound to you and likely everyone else who visits this town mostly because, well, there isn’t much mention of it on any website regarding the city. In fact, you weren’t aware that such a place existed here until the day you came to view your apartment for the first time.

Seeing it loom from the apartment window very nearly had you sign the lease without so much as looking at the cabinet space or the bathroom setup.

No, nothing in that historic district, absolutely nothing in this city, rivals that of the cathedral that towers above both the club and museum.

There, parked just three blocks down from your place of work, sits the cathedral. Clearly old but well maintained, you can just tell that the building has seen more than enough through the passing decades. The arches are pointed and towering, and the flying buttresses only further your heart to beat with love and admiration for what men could build at one point in time.

You’ll never understand why the preferred style these days consists of primary shapes, anyway. Boxes, cones, spheres. Never twisting hallways or nooks and crannies to hide in. You miss the depth of which buildings used to be. Inside practically a maze, outside a wondrous presentation of knife-sharp features. So intricate, so many lines to trace.

What a shame to find yourself living in a space that’s a mish-mash of perfect boxes, but it’s not so bad when the window offers a daydream, at least.

You’re in love each time you gaze upon the building, actually. It’s a forever reminder that no human being on this earth could make you feel such excitement. Perhaps you’re just a nerd for gothic architecture though. Honestly, it’s a shame that this cathedral seems to be a forgotten gem despite how it’s blatantly visible at almost any view point in the city.

Fortunately for you, this only goes to show that the historic district is just that. There for those who admire, and not for those who gawk. There seems to be rarely any stray humans making their way down this street without at least an inkling of interest in the ancient life that’s been breathed here.

If anything, the streets are filled with what you can assume to be open-minded individuals. Your first day at work showed that much. Tattooed bodies, pierced faces, wild hair, even wilder attire. Yes, you feel right at home.

And despite the excitement of living in a new city where you seem to fit like a puzzle piece, life can still grow boring after a certain amount of time has passed. For you, it’s taken about three weeks of training, well-slept nights, and cozy days.

Even through the summer, the nights still have a chill in the air. Which is nice but even your night-time walks have become an auto-pilot task that offers nothing new to your forever hungry brain. So, with the weekend fast approaching, you figure there’s no better time than now to dust off those hot platform boots you bought on a whim years ago and have yet to wear.

You’re going to the booming “after life”.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well.

“After life” is certainly a perfect name for the club if the intensity of the drinks alone is anything to go by. Inside is adorned with stark black walls and silver trim, loads upon loads of purple and red curtains, women and men near-nude wrapped in straps and chains.

It only took two drinks to see the black painted walls as a beautiful void in space with wonderful dancing bodies falling into it. You can’t stop smiling through the warmth in your cheeks and dancing to deep bass with husky voiced music. Your arms stay in the air as you dance, and you welcome any dancing partner up until your third drink.

God, the drinks are strong. Or perhaps it’s just the specific drink you’ve grown partial to. One they call “Red Death”, which according to the handsome bartender, was quite popular in the 90s. You see exactly why it was so popular, considering it basically hit you like a fucking truck in the middle of this club and has you stumbling out the front door without so much as remembering why your feet are moving in the first place.

Unsure of how much time has passed since you got here, you nearly forget the extra five inches under your feet as you stumble your way through the heavy doors in front of the club. A kind bouncer with the whites of his eyes tattooed helps you with your balance as you step out, chuckling and noting that you’re definitely new here.

His strong hold on you is kind and gentle compared to the bouncers outside of the clubs back home, and despite how drunk you are, you still feel as safe as you do inside of your own apartment when he gives you a small “woah there.”

Thankfully, he keeps to himself after helping you regain balance, once again unlike most bouncers at clubs. You’re left to your own drunken plans now as you wobble around the building in search of a bench to sit on and sober up. Thankfully, that very bench is found sitting lonely on the backside of the building. You can still hear the muffled music from inside, but you’re currently spinning and able to hear just about anything, you think.

You hear your ass thump to the ground when you try to take a seat, missing the bench completely and falling a full two feet with your head hitting the bricked wall behind you.

Honestly, all you can do is laugh at yourself as you hold your head. The fall didn’t hurt, and thank fuck no one is around to have witnessed that from you. To think your senses are enhanced at this moment is quite a feat, considering you were so focused on hearing everything that you completely forgot to determine which of the two benches in your drunken vision was the real one.

And as you accept your seat on the ground as the space you’ll sober up in, your senses prove yet again to at least be slightly more amplified than usual.

A heavy scent of cinnamon wafts through your nose as you breathe in the brisk summer air and immediately you try to adjust your eyes to whatever the scent is coming from. Or, whoever.

Then, a cold hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even see him before smelling or feeling him, but somehow, your vision adjusts immediately as if you’re not drunk at all.

In fact, looking at the man is entirely sobering.

“Child, temptation has you by the throat.”

“I’m no child.” You scoff at the voice reaching your ears, frustrated as you try to chase the fizzling drunk feeling. A waste of money, you could say, to lose the dizzy feeling so fucking fast.

The man stands in front of you, clad in black, offering a gentle smile.

You can imagine you look a mess, sitting on the ground outside of a night club, but that should be expected you’d think.

“It’s a figure of speech.” The man shrugs with a chuckle. “Now, now. Allow me to help you, my dear, you are in no shape to be left to your own devices.”

You look up at him, noting that the man appears to be a priest. What kind of priest wanders around goth clubs this time of the night?

Then again, you don’t even know what time it is. What you do know is that you’re nearly entirely sober now for some fucking reason, and you absolutely can be left to your own devices.

“No, I’m fine. I don’t live too far.” You shake your head at him, but he pulls you up anyway.

Oh, a rush of woozy nausea. Your ankles buckle immediately upon trying to stand and the man simply keeps his smile aimed at you.

“My conscience will not allow me to leave you be.” He says, taking your arm and leading you further down the street.

You’re unsure as to why you don’t fight him on it now. There’s a feeling in your body that tells you to go with him, and who are you to fight it?

Strangely enough, your eyes sparkle as he leads you straight to that very cathedral that floods your thoughts on most weekdays during work. So big, so beautiful, so otherworldly to see so closely.

You stare up at the towering building even as he helps you through the doors, and then your eyes immediately adjust to the vaulted ceilings and darkened stained glass windows with only the moonlight shining through.

God, it’s more beautiful inside.

You’re entirely mesmerized by the building, blinking up at every inch of the walls and ceiling. It’s pristine inside compared to the outside, and the floors shine so beautifully even in the low-light. Your boots stomp with each step against the well-maintained floors, to the point you can feel the vibrations running from your toes to the top of your head.

You can feel your skin tighten at the viewing experience, every hair on your body raising in euphoria, pupils growing wide and dark. You smile, feeling your face flush as if you’ve got a man between your legs. There is no man though though, no. Just big arches and echoed footsteps.

It’s simply too beautiful to comprehend with a semi-drunken brain for the first time.

The man saunters through the building with you in tow a bit too quickly than you’d prefer though. You try to soak in the image of the main chapel before he leads you away from it, and thankfully you caught a decent look at the gold and silver adornments surrounding a centered altar. The figure within the altar didn’t quite get more than a glance, but you could have sworn it was no religious figure that you know the name of.

And then, within three blinks, you’re in a corridor where whispering nuns look on. Their voices sound high-pitched even in a whisper but it slows your heart rate down to that of near sleep. Drowsiness overtakes you as you blink out of sync, barely able to comprehend that you should be at home rather than in this wondrous and magnificent building with a strange priest.

Still, even as the corridor grows less and less extravagant, where the stomping of your boots on the floor turns to that of breaking up dust and weighing down creaking wood, you find it all the more beautiful behind your heavy-lidded eyes.

The deeper into the cathedral you go, the older it becomes. Where electricity turns to candles, and then candles turn to pure moonlight shining through stained glass windows.

Even up the spiraling concrete stairs, you feel your feet carry you more than the priest with his back turned to you. He wouldn’t need to lead you through this building at all, as the feeling in your gut would likely have you explore the place inch by inch if you were given the permission.

Still, even while your mind is sober but your body is drunk, you find it hard to believe that people still reside here. Never once seeing anyone come from the cathedral since being in this city. And trust, you have honestly stared at it day after day during work.

That means nothing to you now though, considering you’re inside the building, being led to a small room for sleep where your sleepy eyes devour the small bed against the wall.

The man who led you here lends no more words or thoughts to you as he steps inside, presents the room to you, and then quickly leaves with that same smile he gave you outside of the club.

A nun replaces him with light and silent footsteps, running past you to fluff the flattened pillow on the bed. Another came in behind her with a small bowl of crackers and a glass of water. She holds out the bowl and glass, urging you to take them from her.

Naturally, you do. Popping a cracker into your mouth and instantly feeling it soak up any saliva in your mouth, leaving it feeling dry and sore before you sip the water. And with a nod from the two nuns, they leave you be.

This room appears to be that for refuge, surely for those the church takes in when they’re in need of a warm bed and some food.

You smile, saying nothing as you sit down on the bed and place the glass and bowl on the small ledge by the window. There, you take off your boots and flop back without so much as sinking under the thin covers, and you fall asleep as if there’s nowhere else on this earth you’d rather be.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The sun feels warm against your face when you stir from your slumber. Your eyes feel heavy though, so you simply lay here and breathe in the strange heavy air. Your eyebrows furrow at the feeling of the bed beneath you. Stiff, hard, uncomfortable. Clearly, you’re not at home.

And, well, that’s when the happenings of last night dawn on you. You can barely comprehend what the helpful priest looked like, better yet how long it took for your feet to carry you to this room.

When you open your eyes and squint to look out of the stained window, most of the city is distorted through the tinted colors, but you can tell that you’re quite high up in the building. Then again, the throbbing in your feet could have probably told you that.

Still, sitting in this bed now feels much more uncomfortable than it did when you initially laid down. Your head pounds as you pinch the bridge of your nose, squinting around the room and trying to grasp your memory.

The only thing you remember is the cold hand that guided you here and every beautiful inch of the cathedral. Which can only mean, you have no fucking idea how to get out of here.

Oh, the horror and embarrassment of needing to search for someone to help you leave feels unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Surely, if you’re silent with your feet, you can search the halls until you manage to find a back door, right? At least the route would be scenic and interesting if you can manage it.

And, well, you do try. Searching for a staircase the moment you leave your room simply because you know that the only way home is down at least a hundred steps. Strangely enough, your instincts seem to know exactly where to go.

Somehow.

Your socked feet carry you straight downstairs and to the main cathedral. You weren’t necessarily expecting to find a room full of people upon entering the space either. After all, if it were Sunday perhaps you’d have to drag your hungover ass past a crowd participating in Sunday mass.

Despite never seeing a soul enter this cathedral save for yourself and that priest.

Weird, there are a few people with bowed heads sitting in the pews of the main chapel. All appear to be clad in black and gold, one or two others with silver. Not entirely cloaked but still incredibly eerie from behind as you look on with each silent foot step.

And suddenly, your body freezes.

There, at the center of the altar stands a stoic man. Posture so straight you could argue he is nothing but an ancient statue. Behind him, you note that there is an actual statue of a figure standing much the same, far too distant to make out the face of.

Only for a moment do you recall glancing at the statue from the night before, noting how it resembled no god nor deity that you’re aware of. It doesn’t even resemble a human the longer you stare at it, actually.

Ah. Yes. The vibes in this cathedral are off. From your feet somehow knowing the place as if it’s your own home to the silent chapel bowing their heads to an even more silent man standing frozen in the center. If at all, you feel like you’ve been caught in a photo, stuck with your feet on this single tile with the front doors just out of your reach.

That is, until one of those whispering nuns makes her way to you, tapping your shoulder with a nod and a very quiet, “Shall I see you out?”

And she does, opening the large doors for you and closing them behind you without so much as a sound.

Strange, because you remember the echo of those doors closing from the night before. But whatever, you guess, as you’re assaulted with the bright afternoon sun forcing your eyes to tear up.

You take a step through the flash-bang of summer air, slowly adjusting your eyesight to the very museum you work at. Bustling with your co-workers who are made to work this weekend, you try to avoid being seen. After all, as a new employee, the last thing you need is to be perceived as a hungover mess while walking out of that weird fucking cathedral with nothing more than socked feet and a pair of stompers held against your chest.

And so, you make the short trek home, thankful for the walkable city but entirely unthankful for the charming weather your realtor promised for this time of the year. It’s fresher than you’d like for it to be outside today, the warm sun keeping you at a perfect temperature while the cold breeze offers a shiver here and there.

You’re not sure why it pisses you off. It’s probably the headache that only pounds harder and harder with each step you take.

Finally, you make it to your apartment. You feel cold when you step inside the lobby and make your way up. Somehow you feel even colder when find yourself at the window, gazing at the same cathedral you just spent the night in, looking hazy in the afternoon sun.

It looms there in the city, with its elder rooted walls and pointed arches. Still so beautiful, still so mysterious, still so fucking luring.

Even after sleeping there, and even after you felt the vibrations inside skew your comfort, it stands out not only in the city, but in your brain. With the modern city only forcing it to stick out like a sore thumb, you can argue that the city could be just as old and still that cathedral would offer a shiver down your spine.

Your head pulses at the sunlight shining through your window, forcing your eyes from the darkened haunt, and you’re quick to make your way to the kitchen to rummage for something to help with the headache.

And by the time you flop down on your couch, you drift back to sleep, realizing that you’re not entirely sure if you slept at all the night before. Despite waking up, despite not remembering a thing from after you laid down, and despite feeling rejuvenated in every aspect aside from sleep.

That rejuvenation strangely drains you more as you drift to sleep, finding it so unnatural that you willingly slept in a maze filled with no face you can put a name to.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Making your first friend feels good. Weeks worth of pretending and hoping you and your co-workers would somehow become besties outside of the museum walls fell short, after all. Not that you don’t consider them friends, it’s more so just the fact that they’re all a bit too stoic and up-tight for you.

You’re quite a bit younger as well. You can tell that they lost their spark for creating art years ago, if they ever even created it in the first place, anyway. It’s all just curating, curating, curating for them. An eye for beauty only, which is respected and appreciated but still, no eye for fun outside of these walls though.

That’s where Jungwon comes in. A young artist with first-installation jitters dimpling his cheeks as he offers the smallest “hello” that you think you’ve ever heard from another person.

He’s similar to you in the way he dresses. He works hard, amazing you with each piece of his collection that’s pulled from a tightly packed box, filled with bubble wrap and slammed with “FRAGILE” stickers.

Arguably, you don’t need to be friends with your co-workers when you have artists like him coming in and out every few months. He’s quite lively, very excited, and almost clumsy in the way he carries himself.

You were endeared with him the moment you met him and honestly just three days in, the two of you are practically attached at the hip as you push and work hard alongside him to set up the installation as perfectly as possible for the following weekend.

And, well, the first showing went off without a hitch. His smiling face could have been seen for miles, you think, as you watch him mingle and blush at each compliment and critique of his work.

So bright.

So full of life.

The exact person you’d want to be around.

“Jungwon–” You elbow him in the side as he nods and shakes hands through each farewell while the museum comes to its close for the night. “It’s Friday.” You smile.

He nods you off, paying close attention to each face that came to visit his work. And only when the halls are empty does he make his way back to you with a deep exhale and a loud, relieved groan.

“Finally.” He huffs, blowing a strand of his hair up and into the air. “Just fifty nine more days to go.”

You roll your eyes fondly at him already counting down until the two of you are scheduled to take down his work.

“You do know you only need to be here for opening night, right?” You laugh.

“Well, yeah.” He shrugs. “But it’s my first installation, I worry some kid will come wipe his snotty nose all over my hard work.”

You chuckle, he chuckles, and then you turn to face him.

“So, it’s Friday.”

He bounces on his feet.

“Yeah, glad to see you seem to grasp the idea of fleeting time and whatnot.” He looks at you with a mischievous smile. “What about it?”

“We should go out. The club across the street has really strong drinks for half the price as most places.”

You watch as Jungwon’s eyes shine when they flick behind you to glance out the window. Then his face falls, his eyebrow raises, and he tilts his head.

“You do realize we’ve been here for like, eighteen hours straight, right?”

You nod casually with a shrug.

“I live super close by, if we get tired, you can just crash on my couch.”

He pretends like he thinks it over for more than two seconds before ultimately accepting the offer of fun.

“Cool. Wanna meet me there in an hour? I should probably change and stuff first.”

You eye over his outfit, and then give yourself a quick glance.

“Good plan.” You smile, backing away and throwing your bag over your shoulder. “An hour. Be there.”

You both nod in agreement and go your separate ways. Sleepy, but entirely willing to celebrate Jungwon’s huge accomplishment with drinks that have already proven to be too strong.

The hour passes quickly, wearing that same pair of boots for a second time now that you have the perfect place and reason to stomp around in them. This time, you even go as far as darkening your lips and smearing your mascara just a smidge. After all, you’re definitely gonna get drunk and your makeup will be smeared by the end of the night regardless.

You gasp upon seeing Jungwon’s chosen attire, offering him an “Ooooh” the second you walk up to him. He had been leaning against the front doors of the museum, as if he’s simply an on looker and not a working artist with a top-notch showcase within those walls.

He lends you a matching “Ahhhh” upon seeing your chosen outfit. Both of you somehow match in a way that makes this appear more like a date night rather than friends getting drinks. Which is kind of cute and a welcomed idea if the two of you have one to many and accidentally start making out or something.

It feels platonic enough to laugh off in the morning, anyway. And really, while his boots don’t lend him extra height, he stomps around in them much like you do your own. With his black knit sweater littered in frays and pulled yarn, and his hair intentionally messed up.

“Wonnie,” You offer the nickname easily as you grab onto his arm and check the street for cars before beginning to cross. “I think some eyeliner could finish off your look.” You laugh as the two of you practically prance with heavy boots to the club.

He smiles at the nickname, hiding his face only slightly in his sweater when he blinks back at you with sparkly eyes.

“Really?” He smiles, dimples on full display for the tattooed bodies lined up outside, already checking out the artist.

“Yeah, oh–” You huff, digging in your small shoulder bag. “I have some, let’s do the finishing touch.”

And when the two of you stand at the back of the line, you do just that. Carefully holding his cheek in one hand and lining the lower lashes on his left eye.

He doesn’t even close his eyes, and instead looks up into the night sky with that same dimple showing. Blinking every few seconds at the sensitivity, ignoring the fact that his eyes start to prickle at the feeling.

“It tickles,” He chuckles in a hushed whisper, never having a friend be so close to his face like this before. “How do you manage to do this every day?”

“I guess you just get used to it after a while.” You focus on the way the darkened color brings his eye to seem more catty than it already was, taking your thumb and swiping the bottom lid to smear the charcoal makeup.

You note how innocent and shining his other eye looks compared. Nevertheless, you go to rest your hand on his other cheek now.

Just for a moment, his eyes flash down to look at you. So, so close to his face. Instantly, you lend him a pause and your own smile.

“You’re blushing.” You laugh, holding your hand steady in wait as he shifts his weight to the other leg out of natural nervousness.

“Sorry,” He whispers out, blinking frantically to prepare for his other eye to tickle. “I’m not used to being this close to someone.”

Ah, you don’t believe that for a second.

“Look up.” You instruct, already lining his other lashes. “Feels like I’m putting the finishing touches to a masterpiece.” You add in a lame chuckle, feeling a little flustered yourself the more you note how his eyes water at the tickle. They shine so pretty.

He laughs out at your comment, a hand shooting to your wrist as you smear the liner on him. Not to be intimate or anything, just simply to steady your hand more.

“I guess I am kinda the canvas like this, huh?” He comments, standing as still as he can while looking up at the moon. “Hey–”

“Hm?” You say, pulling your hand back now and doing the same with your thumb to smear the make up into perfection on his flawless little face.

“What kind of gum is that?” He asks, blinking a few times before adjusting his eyes properly and pretending like he can’t feel the waxy substance caked on his lashes.

“Just regular spearmint.” You give him a half smile. “Why, you want a piece?”

He nods, mostly because if he had known you were going to get this close to his face, he probably would have already had some type of candy in his mouth.

Again, it’s not like he has feelings or anything. It’s just, well, it’s always intimate to have someone so close to you. In your space. Your bubble. No one ever gets that close unless they want to kiss. Or, he guesses, if they’re putting eyeliner on you.

“You look really cute,” You comment now, stepping back after giving him a piece of gum and looking over how the smeared makeup really does complete his look. “Should’ve brought one of my chokers too. Now that, yeah.”

“Huh?” He tilts his head as the two of you move up the line. “You’re really into this kind of scene aren’t you?”

You nod shyly.

“Was a total mall goth back when I was a teenager. I would’ve stalked you around the mall if you looked like this back then, really. Totally my type.”

He lends a bashful blink and a half-hearted laugh, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking to the ground.

“Well, when I was a teenager I looked like the person who invented calculus.”

“And now you’re just a little work of art, huh?” You continue the cringey art-jokes, mostly because you like the way he tries to pretend they’re funny rather than utterly horrifying.

And he does smile at it, ears flowing with heat as he blushes. He probably wouldn’t feel so shy if it weren’t for the fact that he also heard compliments all day about his art. He’s a bit sensitive right now.

“I guess so.” He accepts your compliment like all the others, lifting his shoulder to his cheek with a squinted eye. It’s nice to feel like the world’s favorite person for a night, truly.

And the conversation is even easier from here on out. Albeit, a bit flirty but it stills platonic enough to where the two of you are just…in a comfortable little bubble surrounded by faces you don’t know. Perhaps playing the part of being two individuals who came to a club together rather than separately and alone.

As the hours pass, there are several strangers approaching the two of you. Words of “need a third?” and “well aren’t you two just fucking perfect?”

Jungwon basks in it, snickering quietly with you but never denying a single accusation. The two of you play along. Drinking, dancing, and then more drinking. Up until Jungwon decides he’s held his bladder long enough and is off in search of a bathroom while you make your way to the bar.

For more drinks, of course. Not to hit on the bartender you met the first time you came here.

“Another red death?” The man with inky red hair smiles at you, already grabbing a glass and starting your drink.

“Yes but, can I actually–” You pause, glancing at the other man behind the bar.

Red haired man laughs knowingly with a nod and a side eye before pointing silently at his co-worker and raising a brow at you.

You nod back, dipping your face only slightly when you see him take two steps back and whisper to the man.

Instantly, you feel a bit more shy over asking to be served by this guy but goddamn. His dark hair looks slightly damp when his eyes glance to you upon whatever is being whispered in his ear, probably from something spewing in his face after being shaken up, or perhaps from sweat.

You try to avoid eye contact under the man’s gaze when he walks over and in front of you. Sharp jaw, silver chain, loose black t-shirt revealing equally as damp collar bones.

God. The shirt is sticking to him.

“Babe, my eyes are up here.” He laughs, holding an empty cup and leaning on the bar towards you. “Had a little too much to drink again?”

You nod, dazed by his dark eyes before immediately shaking your head.

“Red death, please. Two of them.”

The man nods with a knowing smile.

“I saw that you came here with someone.”

He’s flirting. Mostly for tips but it’s not like he hasn’t been known to take people home from work before so, wherever it goes is where it goes for him.

“Jay, can you grab me the-” The red haired bartender says from behind, and Jay, presumably, hands him a bottle without so much as letting him finish the sentence.

“He’s cute.” Jay continues talking to you, enjoying the way you don’t realize how you fold in on yourself. “Any reason as to why you asked me to make your drink?”

“Um, oh,” You were gonna be bold, but you feel Jungwon suddenly clinging to you from behind, eyeing the bartender just like you are. “I just think you make them better.”

“Did he just say I’m cute?” Jungwon whispers behind your ear, watching the man’s hands as he makes the drinks with expert knowledge.

“You’re both cute.” The bartender smirks, looking between both of you and then offering a wink. “This round is on me.” He adds, sliding both cups forward and brushing your hand just for a moment before turning his attention to someone else.

Honestly, it’s like you and Jungwon are the same person at this moment when you grab your drinks and you turn to face each other.

Both of you, bouncing on your feet with whispered squeals over the hot bartender including both of you in the compliment.

“Oh my god.” You stare forward, tasting the drink and noting that there somehow seems to be more alcohol in this one. “He’s so–”

Jungwon nods to you excitedly, sipping his drink quickly before glancing behind you and meeting the eye of the bartender again.

“He was just looking at your ass.” He comments, flipping his body to cling to your arm and now turning his back to Jay “You think he’s gonna check mine out too?”

You nod with a snicker, the song changing and the tempo instantly drowning your thoughts.

“I love this song!” You shout with drunken glee, already making your way from the bar but keeping that little thought that hopefully, Jay will keep glancing at the two of you simply because it’s fun to be watched by a hottie.

And Jungwon just goes with your flow. Dancing with sticky sweet lips, eyes glazed over from the music and mood. His makeup looks more beautiful now paired with strands of his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen dimples so fucking deep before, and it’s almost painful to remember his face without that smile plastered on it.

“Wonnie,” You grab him by the shoulder and pull him against you, ignoring how his hair dips into your drink for a moment. “I think you’re my best friend.”

And the way he pulls back with a gasp, smiling wider? It shatters your heart just so it can grow larger.

“I am?” He does a little bounce through his dance move, eyes shining in the strobe lights, flashes of red and purple shading his cheeks, only deepening those dimples. “Really?”

Never have you enjoyed spending time with someone like this. Never without crushing hard, never without wanting to take them home and fuck them until you can’t walk. Jungwon is different though. He really does feel like a long lost best friend, like the part of you that has been missing for far too long.

The moment you met him, you clicked in a way that didn’t involve a dick or a hole. I mean, sure you’d probably fuck him for funsies but there’s really no point in it because you feel perfectly happy, perfectly fulfilled, just having him spend his free time with you.

Surely when he has to travel back home, you’re going to cry.

“Why do you have to live so far away?” You pause your dancing, making yourself sad at the thought that he will only be here for a few weeks. “Who am I gonna hang out with when you leave?”

Jungwon lends you a pouty sound, a coo, almost.

“I only live an hour away.” He laughs, leaning forward and plastering his sweaty forehead to yours with a slurred shout so you can hear him clearly. “I’ll come see you all the time!”

And with that, the mood seeps right back into your veins as the smile overtakes you.

You dance with him, forehead to forehead for a long, long, while. Up until the club is so crowded with people that Jay couldn’t possibly be paying attention to anything other than making drinks, and you couldn’t possibly pay attention to anything other than the music vibrating the alcohol in your stomach.

It’s almost suffocating, as you feel a pang in your chest of overheated anxiety. You breathe in, smelling the fifth piece of gum that Jungwon slipped from your pocket on his breath. You exhale, smelling your own sweet alcohol breath before pulling back and dragging Jungwon by the hand into the only corner not packed with people.

“You okay?” Jungwon slurs as he sways in front of you, eyes trying their best to seem concerned. “You look like you might get sick.”

You nod, feeling your mouth fill with warm saliva indicating that you should probably go to the bathroom now.

“Okay, lets get you to-”

You cut Jungwon off with an off balance sprint to the bathroom and somehow he keeps pace with you, gripping your shirt and refusing to lose you in the crowd.

Unfortunately, as you press on your stomach to somehow hold down whatever is trying to come up, you notice how there’s a very long line for the bathroom.

And it’s still suffocating in here.

And your mouth tastes too sweet. And the music is too loud.

“Let’s go outside!” Jungwon shouts against your ear, vibrating your brain as he navigates you through the crowd himself, pressing you up against the front doors of the club before pushing you outside with him close behind.

The waft of breezy summer air instantly fills your lungs and your stomach settles at the space you have to yourself now.

You stumble forward, making your way around the same concerned bouncer from before who only smiles at you and Jungwon struggling to find your footing.

And, like the best friend you knew he became, he tries his best to be the sober friend right now. His voice wavers and crackers when he speaks, but his hands are firm on both of your shoulders as he presses you against the wall behind you.

“Stay here.” Jungwon says with concern still in his voice. “I’m gonna run back in and get us some water, okay?”

And you nod in a daze as your eyes follow him when he disappears back inside. You note how he says something to the bouncer before opening the doors, and surely he simply asked that the guy keep an eye on you.

“You should probably eat something soon, sweetheart.” The kind bouncer comments to you in the night air, stepping closer to you and standing just against the wall next to you.

You feel protected by him, so there are no alarm bells ringing.

“You know I can’t let you back in, right?” He chuckles as he speaks to you calmly.

“Oh, I bet.” You laugh, breathing in the air again and again, still not regretting the fun you’ve had for the past few hours. “Just gonna sit here and wait for Wonnie, he’ll help me get home.”

“Good, good.” The bouncer confirms your words, still standing protective next to you when you hear the doors fly open and a few seconds of booming music before it’s muffled again.

Jungwon flops down in front of you on the sidewalk now, two water bottles in hand with a smile on his face.

“Jay gave me these.” He smiles. “He said if we can handle waiting til closing time he can drive us home.”

You laugh sheepishly. Unfortunately, you’re a bit too drunk and you know you probably wont make it another hour and a half with an additional however much time it’ll take for him to close up the club before needing to pass the fuck out.

“I think I’ll have to take him up on that next time.” You slur your words. “You’ll help me walk home right, Wonnie? It’s a short walk.”

Jungwon nods, still doing his best to act as sober as he can, but the bouncer shuts him down fast.

“Oh, I don’t think so buddy.” The bouncer laughs. “You’re both fucked out of your mind.”

You laugh, Jungwon laughs, and the bouncer throws in his own hearty sigh.

“Fuck–” You have a sudden, sober thought. “The tab. Jungwon, did we pay the tab?”

He pauses, eyes widening.

“Shit.” He explains before jumping up on unsteady feet. “Can you help her call for a ride?” He slurs out at the bouncer, only disappearing inside again when the kind goth nods at the request.

And as you sit here in the silence after the bouncer helps you order a ride, a few minutes pass. Your eyes are out of focus as you stare up into the night sky before closing them.

You could fall asleep right here on the sidewalk if you’re not careful.

Another few minutes pass, now a loud slam of the doors rings in your tired ears now and you jolt out of the drowsy state, opening your eyes thinking you’ll find Jungwon rushing to you but instead, you note how suddenly you’re entirely alone.

You don’t know how long you’ve sat here, or where the bouncer went, better yet why Jungwon isn’t back yet but what you do know is that suddenly, you’re mind is sober and fucking assaulted by the smell of cinnamon.

You glance around, trying to focus on the scent and where it’s coming from when– oh.

There, walking down the sidewalk is that fucking priest from before. Tall, clad yet again in black clothes, and he simply pauses his step in front of you.

“Again?” The man calls out to you with an amused voice, lending you his hand, but you don’t take it.

Instead, the doors suddenly fly open and Jungwon stumbles out again, nearly tripping over his own feet with an apology of “sorry, jay was trying to convince us to–”

“Uh, hi?” Jungwon interrupts himself as he takes note of the man standing in front of you. “The fuck are you?” He checks the man out, not quite able to focus on him in full.

The priest nods his head at both of you, staring Jungwon up and down before landing his eyes back on you.

“Get her home safe.” He says nothing else before continuing his nightly stroll.

And, well, you do get home safe.

You and Jungwon are a mess of limbs in the short ride to your apartment, and an even messier pile of idiots by the time you make it inside. The couch is long forgotten by the time you close your front door, feeling Jungwon follow you all the way to your plush bed with drunken groans and giggles.

There, you flop onto the bed fully clothed without so much as a happy “goodnight” and you’re both drifting off to sleep. Jungwon’s heavy limbs are thrown on you as he loosely spoons you. Like he’s still trying to take care of you despite the fact that you no longer feel sick, and you’re both perfectly safe behind your apartment walls.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Have you no shame?

Fuck no.

What about Jungwon? Nah.

Both of you have a pep in your step by the next Friday, waiting for the museum to close so Jungwon can walk home with you and get all dressed up and ready for another fall into the infamous “after life”.

“We should try to stay until closing, maybe Jay will bring us home this time.” Jungwon wiggles his eyebrows as you put his eyeliner on for him again.

“We’re gonna have to look real good then, yeah?” You smile at his pretty smeared eyes, reaching your hand up and ruffling his hair.

And you do. Both of you dress up in the darkest, blackest, sexiest fit you can find in your closet. Jungwon is sporting one of your pretty, sheer lace undershirts beneath his own unbuttoned black cardigan, pants tight and low on his waist.

You, with another semi-transparent shirt. Sheer, showing all the goods if you hadn’t put on a nice fitting bralette under it. Cute skirt that shows your thighs, the stompers, of course.

And the finishing touch this time? Matching chokers.

“Cute.” You comment, leaning forward and popping a minty kiss to the tip of Jungwon’s nose.

“You too.” He smiles, pinching your waist before turning to face your vanity mirror and checking himself out.

Cute is right. Jay’s probably gonna fall to the floor when he gets a look at the two of you.

And, well. The night is a blur.

Jay does, in fact, eye the two of you with that sharp smirk like he did last weekend but you, unfortunately, drink far too much yet again.

Jungwon slowed down a bit towards midnight but he kept an eye on you for the most part. Trying to secure the ride for both of you by orbiting around the bar and making flirty talk with both bartenders when time allowed it.

You stayed on the dance floor through it. Sometimes dancing with Jungwon when he comes up behind you with clingy hands and updates on the Jay situation, but after a few songs he’d wander off again.

It’s nice, kind of. Having someone with you that can maintain control through your own drunken stupidity. You don’t mind dancing alone, after all, you’re not entirely alone giving the pretty men and girls who come by to dance with you every other song when Jungwon isn’t around.

And of course, around the same time as last time, you find your mind feeling suffocated by the time the club is at capacity.

You sway on the dance floor in search of Jungwon, unsure of which way the bar is because your eyes simply can’t adjust to the darkness and flashing lights by this point.

Dimples. You need to find the sunshine face in this void of darkness.

And you search.

And search.

Until you’re stumbling out the front doors alone, knowing that if Jungwon is looking for you, he’ll probably know you stepped out to breathe at some point.

Just like the week before, the crip summer air outside instantly settles your stomach and breathing comes easier. You feel more sober than you thought you were as you sit here, making small talk with the bouncer who finally introduces himself to you.

“That’s a good name for a big goth teddy bear.” You mock the man. “Balor.”

“In the flesh.” The man waves you off.

And then, suddenly, the bouncer is stepping closer to you with a stiffened shoulder, the air outside shifting to something else for him, but you’re completely unaware of it.

“I need to step inside for a moment, will you be alright for a few minutes?” He knows he shouldn’t step inside, but in all fairness, it’s kind of the protocol at this point.

Considering that man has made himself very clear that if he’s near the club at all, it’s for good reason and he’s not to be interrupted. At least, that’s what code is for the bouncers here at this club.

It’s a shame though, to know he has to leave you to the night. You’re a fun girl, peppy and sweet, not rude or hard to make small talk with on the long nights of work. Maybe you drink a little too much, but still. It’s not like the bouncer knows why he is to leave the sidewalk when a certain someone wanders by. What he does know is that more often than not, he’ll sink away inside only to resume his position alone, with no one left on the sidewalk.

Probably just a pimp.

Or human trafficking.

He isn’t sure, but time and time again he has been told to leave it be. That it’s nothing wretched. That it’s simply a territory that isn’t their own.

Still, you nod to the bouncer.

“If you see Wonnie, can you scold him for letting me get lost?”

You miss the look of concern on the bouncer’s face.

“Hey, come back inside, I’ll help you find him.”

“Oh, hello again.” A voice echoes from around the corner, causing the bouncer’s shoulders to fall as he immediately offers you a small “I'll find him–” before disappearing behind the heavy doors with haste.

And then, cinnamon. The spicy scent wafting through you so fast that you’re almost dizzy.

More dizzy than you already were, anyway.

“Have you learned nothing?” The priest walks up to you, chuckling and raising his eyebrows.

“Weird ass priest.” You say, paying no mind to the happenings of just now, totally unaware of the energy surrounding you.

“And to what god do you believe I pray?” He tilts his head as he stands in front of you, hands behind his back, leaning down at the waist to position his face in front of yours.

The question makes you look up at him with a skewed brow.

“The usual one?” You ask, rolling your eyes at the silly meeting.

Again.

A third meeting.

“Ah, the usual one.” He mocks, nodding his head before standing back up and towering over you. “Do you seek him out?”

You nod momentarily, having never been religious but at this moment, as drunk as you are and as alone as you feel with this strange man, only god could answer your curious question as to why you keep meeting him.

As to why you’re always all on your own when he appears.

As to why he forces a hope in your mind that god is really out there, and he’ll protect you when the bouncer isn’t here.

“Was that a nod?” He smiles at you, landing a cold hand on your shoulder.

“Yes,” You whisper out, feeling heavy and more and more dizzy by the moment. Not from the alcohol but from something else. “Do you know where I can find him?”

Your voice calls out on its own to him. You don’t recall wanting to ask him that, nor do you recall even thinking those words before saying them.

“He’s right here, love–” The priest pulls back, presenting the space in front of him before turning his hands inward and presenting himself to you. “I am God.”

You freeze, a rush of cold running through your veins. Surely you’re hearing him wrong despite that voice echoing those words in your head three, four, five, six times.

“Isn’t that considered blasphemy?” You try to play it off in a joke, hiding the chill down your spine.

Pretending you’re not interested.

Wondering why it is that you are, actually.

“Perhaps on any other street.” He confirms for you, now crouching down and showing his face plainly to you. “Do you keep secrets?”

Your body nods before you can think to do it yourself, and you narrow your eyes for a moment at him. He’s…insane looking. Unnaturally flawless. Like those little speckles of moles on his face were placed with perfected intention.

You’re mesmerized as he looks at you, eyes glancing to each part of your face, watching your expression change and fall, then rise and– he chuckles fondly, deeply.

“I believe you.”

Why do you feel proud of that?

“Come back with me, yes?”

There’s a long pause as you fight to think for yourself. If Jungwon were here with you right now, surely you’d be more grounded than you feel right now. Surely, you’d be having a heated conversation involving some sort of shared fantasy over that bartender.

What was his name again?

J…J-

Your eyes adjust to the face in front of you as you lose your train of thought. Something inside of you pulls. You can’t tell if it’s your heart or your thoughts but it appears to be instinctual when you replay his invitation in your head. On any other night, with any other man, you’d say no.

Under these circumstances alone, you should be running away.

This man. Dressed as a holy priest, walking to and fro from what you assume to be his home within that unnatural cathedral, presenting himself as god.

You should stand up and disappear into a crowd of rowdy dancers.

You should find Jungwon and cling to him.

You should push him away, and you should be recoiling by his cold hand that brushes your cheek. His voice shouldn’t feel so good in your ears. Like a siren, something inside of you doesn’t want you to run.

“Temptation has you by the throat, my dear.” He smiles as his hand brushes your warm cheek again and again. “You seem rather fond of the feeling.”

And now he flashes his teeth to you. Glistening brighter than the moon, he appears all but natural to you at this moment when you spiral internally at how fucking beautiful he is. Surely this guy is just a turbo goth that truly lives the life. Probably gives his heart to satan and only fucks during a full moon.

And oh, wouldn’t you know.

You glance up at the sky again, the moon full and nearly pulsing in the sky like it’s a living being itself. Then your eyes fall back to the priest, his smile still present.

A weirdo. A freak.

But…aren’t you too?

You barely feel yourself stand up and take a step forward under his arm. You follow the scent of him if nothing else. Heavy in your nose, like a hidden treasure cloaked by the darkened fabric draping over his body.

You want to smell it deeper. Maybe if he were to take off those clothes you could–

“By the throat.” He mumbles quietly as he leads you away from the club.

Away from familiarity. Away from Jungwon. Away from the public.

There, straight back to that damned cathedral.

You’re more unnerved this time though, because the moment you step through the doors, you cannot, for the life of you, recall what you were supposed to be doing.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up with a weight on your side, you smile at the feeling of what you assume to be Jungwon next to you. As you lay here, not quite comprehending what happened in the blur of the night before, you start to take note of something. Color.

The light behind your closed eyelids don’t match the yellow-white light of the sun shining through your bedroom window. No, you’re seeing colors.

Blue, red, green–

“Wonnie?” You call out, squinting your eyes open, not quite processing the room before you feel a pit in your stomach. “Wonnie?”

Holy shit.

You thought it was a dream.

You thought coming back to this cathedral was nothing more than a drunken dream. That the weight on your side was more than just a misplaced pillow.

And as you lay here in a room that isn’t yours, and most certainly a different room compared to the one you slept in previously here, you try to think.

Was it not a dream?

The way the priest held you close and inhaled you? The way he put you to bed and left you here in the darkness? The way you– oh.

This feeling in your chest, pulling, pushing, weighing so heavy. Something inside of you wants to see him despite your uncomfortable awakening. No, you need to see him. This feeling, you know now, only becomes more aggressive when he’s near too. Which can only mean he isn’t far outside of this room.

You think hard about him and what you can remember outside of the blur in your head. He’s attractive. His face is otherworldly, with eyes so dark you hate that you can very nearly see yourself floating in them.

The image of his face sits clearly in your hungover brain as you try to think. The feeling of his cold skin against your face, his lips, his…

Red.

Panic washes over you when you jump out of bed, ignoring the head rush and the way you immediately topple over and onto the floor. You need to go home, you need to find Jungwon and make sure he made it somewhere safe last night. You need to find your phone, and your…purse?

Your shoes?

Where the fuck are your things?

You plant your hands against the cold wooden floors, staring straight down as you try to think. Still, nothing comes but blurry images of the club and then solid images of Sunghoon flashing like still photographs behind your eyes.

Are you losing your goddamn mind?

Finally, you take a deep breath and stand on your feet, rushing for the door and expecting it to open easily, just like this time. But no. It’s locked. You’re fucking locked in. Which is– fuck, you can’t think straight. And while you still recognize that you’re not expected at work today, surely Jungown is worried, right?

He’s probably looking for you. Hell, with the way his nerves get to him, you wouldn’t be surprised to know he’s plastered posters all over the city looking for you.

He’s definitely looking for you.

Fortunately though, only a few minutes of pure panic pass when you hear the door unlock and a pale-eyed nun opens the door for you. She instantly sees the fear in your eyes when you take a timid step back.

“Oh, you poor dear–” She coos out, lifting her brows in pity. “Do you not remember?”

You hear her sympathy, feeling your body shiver with relief at her safe and calm voice. Looking up at her, she can already see the question in your eyes. The need for an explanation.

“You did request that I lock the door for you. You were just simply petrified when–”

You gasp at her choice of words, not remembering a single bit of fear from the night before.

“Petrified?” You whisper carefully, wrapping your arms around yourself and nervously looking around the room.

The shrouded woman purses her lips, glancing away from you.

“I do believe Master Sunghoon startled you. He meant no harm, my dear.” She tries to calm your nerves, but the information only stiffens your shoulders more.

“Master?” You question with hesitation. “Do you mean Father? Reverend?”

“Oh.” She purses her lips tighter now, a small smile breaking out at the corners of her lips. “It’s worse than I thought. Please, come with me.”

You shake your head, backing yourself up against the wall.

“It’ll only be a minute,” She waves her hand for you to come. “You’re not in danger, I assure you.”

And as you stand here, knowing that you likely have no choice but to follow her, you hope that her words indicating no danger are truthful. You kind of need them to be, after all.

“Come now, dear.”

Reluctantly, you follow her.

All the way up a too-dark spiral staircase, down two long and dark hallways with vaulted ceilings, and upon rounding a corner, you smell it and you fucking feel a tug in your chest. One that drives you to walk a bit faster, nearly in front of the nun as your feet carry you to where you feel you’re supposed to be.

She chuckles when you reach the large double doors before she does, dipping her head at you before seemingly gliding back down the hallway in silence.

Before you can even knock on the doors, they open with a rush of air hitting you square in your face. It nearly knocks the breath out of you at first, but you inhale deeply the same scent of cinnamon before your breath is actually caught in your throat.

There stands the priest. Or god…or whatever he is.

“Terrified.” He clicks a knowing tongue at you, stepping to the side to invite you into the extravagant room. “Just when I thought you I had you, too.”

You stand in silence in front of him after stepping inside, that tug in your chest trying to pull you directly against the man. Still, you refrain with furrowed brows as you remain silent.

“And yet, here you stand.” He softens his frustrated voice, leaning comfortably against a wooden desk behind him. “The human brain truly is fascinating.”

“Human brain.” You repeat his words to him in an attempt to process them.

“Yes, of course. Yours in particular.” The priest, in his night clothes of a loosened white shirt and long pants makes his way to a bookcase. You watch his slender fingers pull a ratty old book out before he flip through the pages. “I’ve heard about people like you.”

You pause as you watch him push a pair of gold-trimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, a memory flooding to the forefront of your mind as you recall last night to your best ability.

Again, red.

“I used to be like you.” He just talks, offering no context but keeping his sharp gaze on you despite having the book open in his hands.

You find yourself nodding as you listen, feeling your hand raise to your heart as you try to ignore the way the priest, Sunghoon, takes a deep inhale.

There’s nothing that follows his inhale. He doesn’t release that breath as he stares at you and instead just…smirks.

“Last night, you believed me to be god.” He smiles wider now. “You stood in that very spot and undressed yourself.” He takes a step closer to you now, tilting his head with his words. “Do you know what you did next?”

A shaky breath leaves your lips and a shiver runs through you again and again as you shake your head at him. Forgetting just for a moment how to speak.

“You got on your knees and you prayed.”

You drink the thick air in the room like a glass of wine, swallowing harshly, struggling to maintain any type of steady heart beat. You feel allured, aroused, mesmerized, embarrassed.

“What–” Inhale. “Did I pray for?”

Exhale.

“Me.”

Inhale.

Within a split second all the memories come crashing through your skull. Rattling images of that very instance where you were on your knees, right here, fucking praying. Your hand instinctively shoots up to your neck, and there, you feel the drainage points. Two small pricks, just like in all of those movies you watched growing up. Sore, swollen, hot to the touch.

Well, goddamn.

There goes your balance. Your eyes start to blur and you feel yourself fall. Only, you don’t. You can’t when you hear him drop the book to the floor and feel his cold body shoot up and against you to hold you up.

He says nothing at first as he looks down at you, and you couldn’t say anything if you wanted to. You look up at him in a daze, trying to focus, trying to think, but all you can process is the way he inhales again, deeply.

“You ran.” He whispers to you, studying your face and the way your body went from limp to almost holding up on its own in a shorter time than he expected. So strong, you are. Such a fighter.

He inhales again, seemingly drowning in the smell of you before rolling his eyes up and closing them just for a moment. Then, he groans before looking back down at you with eyes almost as dazed as yours.

“You didn’t run away, though.” He adds.

Even as he releases his hold on you, he smiles and inches his face closer and closer to yours. Almost as if he’s making an attempt to stare straight through you.

“I wouldn’t have stopped you, love.”

Your body feels weak as you soak in the truth of last night, your lips instinctively wanting to kiss him. No longer do you feel the need to run away, or to find Jungwon. You’re no longer afraid, even.

Words can’t explain how you feel right now.

“Why didn’t you leave?”

You have no answers for him when you hum out as a response. In fact, you’re not sure if you’ve ever had the ability to answer questions in the first place.

All you feel is euphoria as he continues to talk to you, sweetly smiling and lowering his voice to something that drips like thick syrup down the walls of your brain.

“I can trust you’ll be back then?” He hovers his lips over yours, watching you pucker them for him before backing away with another deep inhale of your scent. “Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?”

You find yourself laughing at that, smiling as you blink at him.

God, he’s so charming.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon had shoo’d you away shortly after, and you managed to make it home in a daze of sunlight and uncanny admiration.

You’re not sure if you can ever feel normal again after that. In fact, you’re quite dissociated and disconnected to the world until you find Jungwon slumped at the entrance of your apartment, sound asleep.

Like a guiding light, his presence grounds you so fast that you feel more dizzy than you did in Sunghoon’s arms. Like your spirit is slammed back into your body and reality is hitting you again. You crouch down in a rush with light taps to Jungwon’s face, those bright eyes widening the moment he realizes that you’re here.

“Where were you?” He whispered drowsily, his dry throat forcing his voice to crack as he shifts his body comfortably against your door.

Immediately, your face is apologetic and your voice is soothing in repeated apologies.

“I’m sorry, Wonnie–” You hiccup, nearly wanting to cry. “I ended up going home with someone, I didn’t mean to leave you there alone.” You continue, pushing your hands under his arms and hoisting him up to stand. “I’m sorry.” You continue, and continue. “I should have left my keys with you, or–”

“Hey,” He whispers sweetly, finally standing on his own and stretching his arms out with an even drier sound. “It’s okay, you’re the one who missed out.”

You tilt your head in question as you reach for your shoulder bag, the one Sunghoon had tucked within his desk drawer, and pull out your keys.

“Oh?” You smile at his lack of care, but part of you kind of shatters at it.

What if you really needed help? How long would it have taken Jungwon to see the red flags? Then again, how long is it going to take for you to see the red flags?

“Oh yeah.” He nods to you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as you push open your door and push him inside. “Jay brought me here, he stayed for a little while, even offered to bring me back to his place.”

You’re a little jealous. You did miss out, it seems. Still, you feel…fond of what you went through last night. Despite the feeling of rot within you when you think about it. Knowing it’s weird. Strange. Unnatural.

A vampire? Really? Surely not.

“Why didn’t you go home with him?” You ask, making your way to your room right behind Jungwon, paying no mind to him as you undress and throw on a t-shirt. “Why’d you sleep at my door?”

Jungwon shrugs, now taking his own outfit off while rummaging through your closet for a shirt you probably got from an ex boyfriend.

“Well,” He looks at you now, really looks at you. “I’m fine if you wanna go home with people but I was a little worried, wanted to make sure you’d actually make it home.”

You pause as you dress yourself for a second sleep, feeling something in your chest flutter out of you at his worry. So he did see the color red.

Not as brightly as you did, but he still saw it.

“I really am sorry.” You furrow your brows as you watch him put that over-sized shirt on and lay on your bed. “I promise, I won’t do that again.”

“You’d better not.” He chuckles, blinking at you and waiting for you to come lay with him.

“Let me go get us some water first, I think we have a lot to sleep off.”

He nods happily to you, only one dimple peeking out at you when you turn to head for the kitchen.

And after that, it’s nice. Not much sleep happened though, mostly just a lot of water chugging and pillow talk before Jungwon shifts with a gasp.

“What the fuck is that?” He bolts up, hovering over you and practically pinning you to the bed as he forces your face to the side.

You know exactly what he’s looking at and explaining it isn’t the hardest thing in the world. After all, you were very drunk last night. So drunk that you’re sure you woke up today still drunk.

A vampire? Hah. There’s no way. You were right to think Sunghoon is just like, really goth. Embarrassingly so. Probably thinks he’s a vampire lord or something.

That pull in your chest? The inhales with no exhales?

It’s all an act and, well, you’re kinda into it if you’re being honest, being hunted and all. The dude is hot as hell, and you don’t mind exploring a little bit of his world.

“Well…” You trail off, lending your looming friend with the smeared eyes an embarrassed smile.

“Those look deep.” His voice drips in concern as he keeps your face turned. “Did it hurt?”

You feel his fingers touching the two puncture wounds. Gentle, warm fingers. They pulse at the touch and sting when he pulls them away to let you turn your face back to him.

“To be honest, I don’t remember feeling it.” You think he’d probably panic if you told the truth right now. About how you were clearly too drunk when it happened. About how you prayed to a man only for him to pierce your neck and drink you up like you did to the drinks just hours prior. You aren’t even sure if you had sex with the guy.

To you though, sober or not, you probably would have still left with Sunghoon last night. With that flawless skin and those dark eyes. Sober or not, if he’s into biting and blood, you’re into it too. More than willing to play his victim.

The fact that you were probably far too drunk at the time doesn’t bother you much because even now, with a grasp on reality, you’d like to think you’d let him do it again. If anything, just to feed your own curiosity.

“Wow, you really are into some freaky stuff–” Jungwon comments playfully, rolling back off of you and then taking a breath. “Make sure you clean them. Who knows where the mouth that did it has been.”

All smiles when you’re with Jungwon, honestly. So much comfort and concern, so much laughing and safety. If it weren’t for him, you honestly wouldn’t know how you’d be feeling right now. And it’s nice knowing that he opts to sleep over with you again. Seemingly preferring your apartment over the home he dropped a hefty wad of cash on for a two month stay.

The feeling of having a best friend swells inside of you with each passing day, and his presence here allows you to go to work and sleep through the night without much more thought to Sunghoon. You love this city and you love the little artist that found himself at your doorstep even more.

Hopefully he meant it when he said he’d come visit you all the time once his time here is over. Unlike you, who changed your mind the moment you saw Jungwon asleep at your door.

“I can trust you’ll be back then? Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?” Sunghoon had said to you. You remember it despite the state of your mind at the time, and you also remember nodding to him.

He seemed satisfied with your confirmation, yet since then you’ve felt no push or pull. No need to have him sucking on your neck or making you feel like he’s a demon wearing the skin of an angel.

Perhaps you’ll just need to be sure you don’t find yourself drunk and alone on the sidewalk again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By mid-week, Jungwon looks sad to know he needs to go back to his respective space for a little while. Not because he wants to, and not even because you want him to.

It’s simply because you need to be alone. You’ve always needed to be in your own space when this happens anyway.

Month after month after month. For years and years.

It never gets comfortable and you’ll never understand why you’re fated to hurt so badly every twenty two days.

Going to work is already difficult enough, bloated in your quirky outfits and smiling through the twisting knots in your gut. Having Jungwon in your space when you very nearly want to strangle every person who asks you how your day has been would only lead to more owed apologies.

“It’s not forever, Wonnie.” You genuinely smile through the pain at his narrowed eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Oh, I’m being dramatic?” He throws his arms up and motions at you. “You just told me you need a few days to bleed out on your kitchen floor.”

“Well, yeah...” You laugh and he frowns.

“I have a sister, you know.” He rolls his eyes. “Who’s gonna buy you snacks and bring you microwaved water bottles?”

“Jungwon.” You land your hands on his shoulders and force him to look at you. “I really just don’t like when people are around me when I'm on my period.”

He blows a strand of his hair up before pursing his lips, accepting the fact that maybe he’s a bit too clingy. Then again, you’re the only person in this city he knows and arguably the only person in this world he’s managed to grow so close with.

Given the fact that the two of you only met like, what? Two weeks ago? He should probably tone it down and not make an attempt to change your lifestyle just so he can sleep next to someone.

“Fine.” He huffs, frowning harder. “But if you need snacks or–”

“I’ll call you.” You shake his shoulders before forcing him into a bear hug. “Thanks though.”

And with that, you go your separate ways at the end of the work day and try to ignore how the pain medicine did close to nothing all day to help with the twisting in your abdomen.

Still, you’re relieved to know you can tough out the next few days in silence due to Jungwon backing you up on your false-sickness nonsense nearing the end of your shift.

“I feel like I’m coming down with a fever.” You whined to your boss, happy that the first day cold-sweats from your period makes it appear as just that. A fever.

“She’s been a bit out of it all day. If you need me to help out on the down-low while she’s recovering, I don’t mind.” Jungwon had added, smiling at your boss and not at all bothered by the unpaid work he’ll probably have to do for your sake.

A great friend he is. You’re lucky to have met him.

An amazing friend, really. For helping you find space for yourself in crowded clubs and within your own bed. For lending a hand at work and showing up every day for your shifts despite simply being an artist that’s presenting his work there. No where is he needed within that museum outside of, well, you.

And he’s always there. So for him to not be here now, when you’re making your way to your apartment door? It feels...wrong. Mostly because, as alone as you are when you walk inside and as silent as it is, you don’t entirely feel as alone like you once did here.

Still, you go about your nightly routine and fall into bed with those same cramps in your gut. It’s not long before you’re drifting off, pleased to know that at least when you’re sleeping, there’s no pain in your body.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A strong scent wakes you, forcing your eyes open in the darkness of your room.

Familiar. Warm. Spicy.

Cinnamon.

A tug, just a little pull inside of you brings you to your feet as you wander through your apartment. Straight to the front door. Straight out of the front door.

“You know where I live?” You whisper drowsily, rubbing your eyes and walking straight into his grasp, ignoring the feeling of sticky blood leaking out of you just from getting out of bed alone.

“No.” Sunghoon speaks against your hair, rubbing your arms as he holds you against him.

“Oh.” You accept his answer with a nonchalant feeling inside of you. Who even cares how he ended up here?

“Come back with me?” He whispers, already taking a step back and smiling wickedly when you instantly follow, forcing your nose further against his chest and up to his neck. “I hear it dripping, love, come.”

And you do. All the way downstairs and into a car with heavily tinted windows.

You feel comfortable, safe.

The cramps in your belly are nowhere near as you slowly but surely come to your senses. Half-awake but feeling buzzed next to him. Still, you smile while keeping your nose planted up and against his neck even as he drives.

You like the sound of his little laughs each time he tries to push you back to your seat, and you like even more the way he mutters to himself through it when he relents and lets you do as you please. The short drive in the dead of night doesn’t offer much in terms of danger anyway.

And slowly still, your mind clears. Breaking out of the buzzed fog when he brings you through the cathedral

silently. Past the pale-eyed nuns with pursed smiling lips, past the windows and hallways.

No longer are you buzzed by the time you make it through those heavy doors of the extravagant room. The same one you prayed in. The same one you nearly fainted in. The same one you tried to forget.

“How do you feel?” He asks just moments after the doors close.

You can sense the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice when he asks you that, only now realizing that you’re in your pajamas and fucking staining them.

“What do you mean?” You ask, squeezing your legs together in an uncomfortable show of what’s happening between them.

“Are you awake?” He asks now, still slightly hesitant in front of you. You can almost see him hold himself back.

From something.

“As far as I know.” You tilt your head, glancing around the room. “Um, can I go to the bathro–”

“Can you read that clock?” He interrupts you and points to the candle-lit wall.

“Three thirty–” You pause, squinting to make sense of the exact minute. “three.”

He smiles at the fact that you’re entirely awake with him this time, despite the drowsy lure he had you in when he appeared at your door.

You’re here of your own free will, and you’re not running.

“Do you want to go home?”

You’re confused by the questions. As confused and drunk as you felt upon stumbling out your apartment door, you very much came here willingly. If anything, you’re just a little weirded out by the fact that you were paying such close attention to him that you missed the way blood seeped through your clothes.

“No?” You offer back to him before taking a deep breath. “Can you show me where the bathroom is though?”

And before you can even comprehend it, Sunghoon is right up against you. Looming and staring down as his hands rest on your shoulders before sliding down to your waist.

“Now, now.” He chuckles, lowering his face just an inch, resting his lips on your forehead. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because I’m gross right now?” You laugh awkwardly, trying to take a step back but realizing that his grip on you tightens.

“Oh, have you forgotten?” He laughs out, lowering himself more, dragging his lips all the way down your face, neck, chest.

“Ah, wait–” You panic when you feel his nose against your stomach, threatening to go lower. “I’m like…” You’re embarrassed to say it now.

After all, you came here with the clear indication of fucking. Period or not, you’re not afraid of a little bit of blood but…this.

“Sunghoon, I’m on my period.” You finally speak into the room, trying to push his face from your stomach.

“I know.” He smiles, pressing his nose harder against your stomach. “Drove me crazy all day.” He dips his face down instantly, inhaling deeply between your legs.

Something inside of you is insanely turned on by his blatant interest in you.

“All day?” You ask, hands reaching for his hair as he drags his nose straight through the mess you’ve made.

“Could smell it, darling.” He laughs, pulling back and looking up at you. “Smells so sweet, not gross. Delicious.”

Why the fuck is the blood smeared against the tip of his nose so alluring? Jungwon was right, you really are into some freaky shit. Then again, it’s not so weird considering you’ve never done this before. Everyone’s gotta start somewhere when it comes to kinks, right?

“Can smell something else too.” He looks back between your legs, ignoring that you are trying to act like you don’t want to let him. “You’re aroused.”

Oh.

And just as you’re preparing for some sort of pressure between your thighs, you feel a waft of cold air rush up your body when he stands and grabs your face with both hands.

“You never came back.” He hisses against your lips, dragging you back and further into the room with him. “I had to sniff you out like a fucking dog.”

Your mouth falls open at the spiteful shift in his voice, following his movements all the way into the room until he’s spinning around and pushing you from his hold. You fall back against something insanely soft, and instantly you moan at the feeling of silk against you.

Barely able to catch your breath, he’s over you. He’s on you. Tucking his face into the crook of your neck with a low rumbled growl in his throat and inhaling over and over again.

Inhale. Inhale. Inhale.

And you can feel him nose his way all the way up to your face, opening his eyes and staring straight through you with slack lips just over yours.

You’re mesmerized by him at this moment. Never has a man acted this way with you and it’s insane to think you’d ever be satisfied with someone who wouldn’t. You almost strain your neck to kiss him, and you truly would have if it weren’t for the fact that you feel him sink his hand into your shorts.

Not even a second to truly comprehend how ice-cold his fingers feel when he slips them down and slides two of them into you. He watches your face when he does it, his own slack lips turning to a smile when you moan out at the smallest of pleasure he wants to offer you.

“Oh, look at you,” He coos, feeling your arms shoot around his shoulders when he continues to slide the digits in and out of you. “So sticky, what a pretty little mess.”

You groan in embarrassment at the act, knowing full well that you’ll have to face the fact that you like it at some point after he’s finished with you. You don’t mind admitting it so much now though. The way his fingers slide through the thick mess, forcing the scent of brass to mix with his own cinnamon aroma? To die for, truly.

“I could just eat you up–” He chokes in a whisper this time, struggling to maintain his composure from the sickening sweet smell of your blood. “Would you like that?”

You lift up instantly, kissing against his slackened smile. It’s one sided, as he simply lets you do it and nothing more. Mostly because he, himself, is spiraling into a frenzy of what he needs more than what you want. It’s all pleasure the same though, as he feels your tongue trace against one of his sharpened teeth.

Just a small bite. Just a taste.

“Ah–” You pull back in a wince, the flavor of blood hitting the back of your taste buds as you look up at him with confusion.

He doesn’t allow much looking though, as you hear that same rumble from his throat right up against your lips. You feel his tongue lick you up, slurping the blood straight from your new wound and moaning through the flavor of it.

His eyes flutter closed as he tries to hold down his thirst, knowing that his fingers are fucking dripping with this same sweet, red slick. It wouldn’t take much now for him to break and let it all drip down his throat. He could end this now if he’s not careful.

And when he opens his eyes again as he pulls back from your sweet tongue, he notes the look of confusion still on your face. His eyes roll in fond annoyance at you for that, only because you have this stubborn need to question despite having the clear answer bleeding from your mouth.

“You’re still trying to pretend you don’t realize?” He asks, whispering real close to your lips, darting his tongue out and offering a small kitten lick as he buries his fingers deep.

Your lips open for him in a moan and he licks into it again. Your still bleeding tongue only drives him further and further from a stable mindset. No one, not in hundreds of years, has tasted this fucking sweet. He almost can’t savor it with the way his body rises from slumber at the mere fucking scent of you from ten blocks away.

His cock pulses for the first time in decades for you. God, he feels more alive than he did when he was actually cycling blood through his veins.

“You just sliced open that pretty tongue on my teeth.” He chuckles, basking in the warmth he can only feel with you beneath him. “My fangs, love.” His fingers continue their slide all the while, the sounds of squelching blood filling his ears more than your soft groans for more. “Still, you seem to deny what this is and what I am.”

You can hear his words, but comprehending them isn't quite as easy. Like, yes, he’s got a vampire kink. Whatever.

“I get it, you’re kinky.” You huff out, missing the way he stifles a laugh at your denial of the truth.

“You’re a stubborn one–” He smiles, flashing the same fang that sliced through your tongue. “It’s a bit frustrating. Perhaps even endearing.”

And then, suddenly, his fingers come to a halt and he waits for you to look at him. Just as you go to speak, he’s sliding his fingers out of your mess so quickly, shushing you with his red stained digits.

“Now, listen.”

It’s silent. More silent than you ever thought the world could be.

“Do you hear it?”

You shake your head, feeling his fingers leave a trail of your blood against your lips as he drags them away and up to his own mouth.

There, he hangs his fingers from his mouth, licking gently and tasting thoughtfully before sliding them further in. He sucks them clean in an erotic show of his blood-lust before letting them fall from his still licking tongue. Then, he’s slotting them right back between your legs, wanting more to taste.

“No? You don’t hear how loud it is?” He asks now in a lower tone, still thirsty, still in need, dipping down to lick the blood from your face. “All that blood in you, bundled up right–” His fingers press hard against your clit. “Here.”

Your body jolts in pleasure, eyes rolling back at the mere sensitivity he forces your body into. God, kinky is right. He knows how to use words. His voice is so elegant while spewing the filth, so proper.

“Ahh, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He questions you in a moan that mimicked your own, now lowering himself from your face and kissing down your clothed chest. Down, down, down. “Do you think you’ll believe me when you feel the blood drain out of you?” His voice echoes in your ears, reminding you of the vampire-like thirst he’s trying to act upon.

And when he slips your shorts down your legs, you don’t even protest. Which at this point isn’t weird at all. The dude is insanely into it and you can’t help but feel like you can vibe with it if he keeps acting like this. He’s good at roleplaying.

Instead of an embarrassed protest, you respond to him by spreading your legs and presenting the red mess he’s smeared all over you. Inviting him.

He glances up at you as he watches, saying nothing, thinking nothing except for the fact that– you are perfect.

In every way, spread out and dripping blood, perfect.

You feel an intense jolt of pain shoot through your body just seconds later, followed by a loud and almost animalistic moan from the man between your legs. You lift slightly as you try to look down at him, witnessing the way he sucks the flesh of your thigh into his mouth, blood weeping from the new wounds his teeth create.

So much blood. He’s the one drunk now, utterly fucking mesmerized by the amount of it you pour for him. Your fleshy thighs offer the freshest, he couldn’t help but take a sip before giving you what your quivering body is truly begging for. He has to quench the genuine thirst before playing with his food, at least.

And as you watch him it’s like you’re nothing but a piece of meat at this moment. He’s sucking and sucking against your thigh until you’re sure your toes are numb. They’re tingling, and you can physically feel the blood being pulled from you. As if his teeth are two syringes seeping it out of you.

Af if they are. Not because they actually are, right?

And by the time your toes are effectively filled with static, he finally releases the fleshy bite on your thigh. You stare down, listening to him smack his lips and lick the corners of his mouth, seeing the way he doesn’t make eye contact with you at all before he’s turning his attention and burying his tongue into your crimson coated cunt. Without warning, but with so much eagerness with his tasting lips.

Your eyes flutter with a loud and strained gasp, eliciting a groan of his own to bubble into the blood that falls against his tongue with each passing pulse of you. He licks in time with your heartbeat, which is fucking insane that you can tell he does it. Never before now have you heard your heart beat so loudly, so frantically in your ears.

And you would be embarrassed, perhaps even worried that the taste is awful. Maybe it’s too much for him, maybe this kink is all just for show and this is a limit he’s only willing to try once before realizing himself that he doesn’t necessarily like drinking the blood from a woman’s pussy…except– Sunghoon gives you no reason to feel like any of that is true.

No, no. Oh no. He’s fucking relishing in it and you can tell by the way he moans and skews his head to dig his tongue deeper. You can tell by the way he smothers himself, not coming up for air for even a second of the time he’s spending down there.

And god, you can feel the mess of it all. Sticky, smearing all over your thighs when his fingers trace you mindlessly before gripping your thighs just to pull you down the bed, closer against his face, sliding his tongue ever deeper.

Moaning, fucking slurping it out of you without so much as a breath.

He’s not breathing.

And now? You panic, focusing more on the time he’s spending burying his mouth and nose into you than the feeling of it. Your hand shoots down into his hair, pulling his head back and away from you.

Then your breath is caught in your throat at the sharp image. His eyes blown out, widened at you. Nose, cheeks, chin, tongue all glistening with sticky crimson slick, and a smile.

He smiles at you.

At least before his tongue is clicking and he’s poking it into the side of his cheek before reaching back, grabbing your hand, and shoving it out of his hair before sinking his face right back between your legs. As if to show you that he was annoyed by that.

You don’t get to think about it though, because this time he’s licking you more frantically than he already was. Fast tongue flicking and fucking you, his teeth dragging against your pussy lips, refusing to let you believe that he wants to breathe fresh air right now.

Your hands find purchase in his hair yet again though, and you feel him grip your legs and stiffen his shoulders to keep his head in place just in case you try to pull him from you again. You hear the deep growl. You feel it rumble against you as if to warn you to keep your hands to yourself if you’re not going to let him do exactly what he said he would fucking do.

So, you don’t pull him away. Instead, you play in his hair with your weak hands. Twisting and twirling strands of it between your fingers until he’s pulling his tongue back on his own.

A shock to you, truly, that he does it at all. But you guess it makes sense when you feel another sharp pain in your thigh, right below the preview bite he had given you.

Just when you were gaining feeling back in your toes too.

And he goes back and forth like that for a while, until his face is utterly soaked in diluted blood and pussy-slick. Until he needs to look at it pulse, and watch how beautiful you still, fucking still, have more to pour out for him.

He’s amazed, really. Never has he served himself a woman that’s openly bleeding for him like this. After all, he prefers to drink his dinner from the carotid artery and be done with it. He was far more creative back in the day though, you know, when his cock still worked.

Most of his sexual pleasure came from drinking alone. Never getting hard but always reaching climax in one way or another when he gets that last, delicious drop of blood from his victims. But now? Oh, now. You’ve stirred his arousal back to life. Not from pure hunger, but lust.

It’s been so long that he’s lusted. So, so fucking long since he’s cared enough to fuck his prey or give in to the temptation of menstrual blood. In fact, he can’t even recall ever allowing his victims to fall away from the drowsy lure he puts them in. Many of them didn’t know what was happening to them before death and he preferred it that way.

Until you. An average looking commoner with insane fucking blood. Devilish blood. Divine, demonic, angelic, fucking celestial tasting blood.

After all this time, he’s had beautiful face after beautiful face. He’s had men, women, celebrities, false-prophets, and even purely divine bodies.. But you…oh no, he can’t simply kill you like those utter throw-aways.

There was a reason he didn’t end you the first night. Something in him caught fire on the taste of your drunken blood. The alcohol you had ran through his veins along with a taste he’s never once fathomed existing. It was the first time in hundreds of years where he forced himself to let you walk out of his quarters.

Blood with no comparison. So thick, so sweet, so…damning. How could he have just killed you there? How could he pretend like it’s not addicting? Like he didn’t want you to continue producing more and more of it, all for him to drink up?

Of course he wants all of it. He wants to drain you to your last fucking drop, but then he’d never taste it again. Not in thousands of years, at least. So now, as his cock pulses awake and your heavy flow only produces more and more for his hungry mouth to lick up– fuck.

It’s been so long since he’s felt something for a victim like this, and even longer since he’s wanted to use his cock. No, needing to use it. It feels almost foreign to him now after so many centuries, to fuck and eat at the same time. To indulge in all the pleasure, and not just the one that keeps him alive. To want you to feel the pleasure too, to need you to want him without the false sleep forcing it.

You.

You’re the one. You’re the one he’s going to keep. For as long as you’ll let him, and when you stop letting him, he’ll have no choice but to lure you again. Forever. All for him.

“Love,” He rasps out, staring at the way your pussy shines so prettily in front of him, the pulse drawing him to near starvation despite being drenched in his meal. “Never have I wanted to fuck before I–”

Kill, is the word he almost used. It’s instinctual, but instead he releases a moan from his throat at the mere thought ignoring that instinct. Drinking, sipping. Forever just a fucking appetizer and never the full meal. He can settle. He will settle.

Never. Truly never has he wanted to stop himself from drinking just to fuck and he needs you to know that. The feeling is too erotic for even him to comprehend right now, meshing with his hunger and making him feel –-

Gods be damned, he could kill you.

He should kill you. Given the fact that he has never let a meal leave this room without being drained entirely. Never while they’re awake and fully aware anyway. Insanity. You’ve made him go insane, losing his wits enough to treat you as something more than a victim.

Despite hunting you as one. Despite never having to hunt anyone like he has you. Wanting you to be here willingly. Wanting you to love the feeling of his thirst. Wanting you to learn how good the drain feels. Wanting you to know what he is and needing you to love it.

Needing you to stay alive.

Insane.

He’s fucking losing it.

He knows that if he can never smell this scent again, if he can never taste it, or have your fingers in his hair, if he can never want to fuck again? Oh, he’d crumble.

He’d take a walk at noon.

You’re not dying tonight. In fact, never shall you feel the cold slab of a morgue freezer if he has anything to do with it. No blood wasted when it comes time for you, and no life truly lost either.

If just for the sex. If just to quench a never ending thirst.

If just to live in insanity.

“Before you–” You release in a breath that he chases. As if craving the life under him like an animal. “Before you, what?”

“Kill.” He whispers as he swallows each breath of yours, tasting the sweet sleep that you once held in your body. His own eyes feeling drowsy as if you have your own lure on him now.

Even the panicked gasp you release at his choice of word there, he swallows it, kissing you hard in a drowsy groan and smearing the blood all through the kiss, letting your breath rumble out of his mouth as if the moan were from his own lungs.

“So vacuous.” He chuckles now, feeling the pleasure of his cock jolt through his body. He presses himself between your legs, relishing in the sticky blood seeping straight through his sleep pants. “Do you feel that?” He continues, rutting against you as if he’s a virgin of all that he’s experiencing right now, licking each smear of blood from your cheeks and chin.

“Ah, Sunghoon,” You groan, but you try to be serious in your tone. Feeling the orgasm that once was bubbling up settle back in your stomach. “You’re making a mess.”

“Mm, I am.” He mutters mindlessly, pressing harder against you now as the taste settles in his throat. “Love, tell me. You feel it?”

Of course you fucking feel it.

The nod you lend pleases him, knowing that it’s not just his imagination. Finally, he can feel the warmth of a living being wrapped around him. Finally, he doesn’t feel so cold.

“You can’t fathom what it is that you do to me,” He continues his sweet talk, running his lips down to your neck, leaving trails of that blood all the way before immediately piercing his teeth into the same wounds he left on you already. He feels your pulse against his teeth when he sucks and only groans weaker against you as he ruts.

“Ah–” You wince in pain again, feeling the wound reopen with a cold and sharp prick. The pain ignites something inside of you to press your hips up, sliding yourself against his red-drenched pants.

He chuckles into his bite at your willingness, his hands reaching straight down to shove his pants down in one movement. Euphoria runs through him at the feeling of your warm blood against him when he presses back against you.

Really, the feeling alone paired with the taste of your fresh blood yet again only drives him to keep going. After all, he has all the time in the world. His intention to keep you here only lends him the ability to press his length straight into that bloody, sopping wet hole of yours. The one pulsing for him, the one that lends his favorite smell, taste, and feeling in the world.

His teeth are forced to retract when he throws his head back at the sensation of sinking deep into your cunt, one fluid motion reminding him of how much he loved this feeling before. How often he’d fuck, and fuck, and fuck until suddenly, he just– couldnt.

You’ve ignited so much life within him, even while doing nothing more than lying here bleeding. No longer does he feel bored with the world considering he’s managed to find you in it. He could possibly even love you if you let him.

Especially with the way you react nearly the same as he does. As if you haven’t fucked before. As if you’ve never mixed scents with another being before ever coming to this city to chase your own demise. The little sounds you make could be so much more than what you think they are.

They’re so similar to the ones you make when he bites, when he sucks, oh, so so similar. So deeply seeped in pleasure, pain, hesitation.

“Darling, are you afraid?” Sunghoon manages to say as he feels himself warm from inside of your tense body. “Do you believe me now? Do you understand now?”

You frantically shake your head at the tear of his cock spreading your walls open around it. That one slide rendering you near faint considering the amount of blood he’s taken from you already. The feeling of…ice. It’s in you, running from your veins all throughout your body. So, so, fucking cold.

No, no, no. No living being on this earth could feel this hard inside of you while being this…oh. His hands have been cold on you too. Always. His scalp under your fingernails as you scratched. His lips, his tongue, all of it was freezing until your blood was coating him. Everything about him is ice.

Still, you shake your head through the pleasure, cock warming him both literally and unintentionally. He just sits inside of you, feeling the beat of your heart gush that same blood past his length and out of you. Your eyes slightly open to look at him, afraid of what you’ll see.

He’s smiling. His eyes are…brighter.

“C–cold.” You manage to stutter out, nearly feeling brain freeze from the way he pulls his hips back and plunges into you again, warm blood splashing out and against his pelvis, coating your thighs more. And oh, that bite on your thigh, it’s dripping again.

“So cold, yes?” He chuckles when he dips down, moving his hips steadily in and out of your sticky mess. No longer thirsty, just…aroused. “Do you understand?”

You frantically shake your head again, grabbing onto him from over his shirt. You’re panicking inside, your fingers gripping so tight, trying to find heat. Needing heat.

How did you not think about this more? It took this to recognize that he never warms? And he’s smiling at your panic?

God, but it feels so, so fucking good.

“Love,” He coos at your panic, pistoning his hips easily with the slide, bringing both of his hands to your face and forcing you to look at him. “I’m dead.”

Ah.

So he is.

Yet, the feeling of him inside of you feels better than you’ve ever had. The way his hands hold your face, the way his eyes blow out for you, the way his entire face is tinted in red. He’s so alive yet…

Entirely dead.

“You’re afraid?” He asks through his own forgotten pleasure, wanting you to stay but entirely willing to put you to sleep so this doesn’t have to end.

“Sunghoon,” You interrupt any words he’s about to give you, opting to continue fighting the truth when you note the softer tone of voice he uses despite the quickening pace of his hips. “Harder.”

Oh, the fire within burns colder than it ever has at those words. He doesn't even need to pull you? You don’t want to pretend this isn’t happening? You’re accepting him?

If you want him to go harder, he’ll make you feel like no other. Harder he goes, using all of his pent up frustration of not being able to drain you fucking dead, all of his strength, all of everything he’s missed out for the past centuries– all of it. It’s behind his thrusts now as he slams into you. The blood that splatters out only makes the moment all the more grand to him.

Breaths leave you with each slam, the sticky sound from below being drowned out by the sheer sound your heart rate in your ear. You’re still panicking, but you can’t help but want more. After all, surely what’s left for you after he’s done is….no, it’s not real.

He feels the fear pulse around his cock and moans out at it, the squeeze so tight, the gush so delicious. This entire room smells of you, and he wants it to be fucking drenched in you. The fear inside of you right now only intensifies the pleasure, and he knows he should be calming you through it, he knows he should tell you that you’re making out of this alive, but–

The way the heart beats so frantically when one is terrified. You’re dripping with fear, the smell of your blood intensifies with each petrifying pulse squeezing his cock to the point he feels his own heart make an attempt to pulse. Your life runs through him entirely out of fear that you’ll lose it.

He can’t tell you, not when your body reacts so flawlessly. Exactly how it’s supposed to react. So delicious is that fear, he wonders if it makes your blood taste any hotter. He dips down, sinking his teeth into your neck once again and confirms his suspicions. It does taste hotter, sweeter, and it pumps itself so beautifully against his eager fangs. Almost as if you truly bleed for him, because he’s not even needing to suck for it at this point.

It just drips, and pours, and bubbles out all for him to swallow up.

You push through it though, the pain is so good, and if this is what it’s like to die, perhaps you’ve found yourself in a lucky position. At least you’re not being ripped to pieces by a stranger, or crushed beneath your own car on a highway. At least this way, you’re being held and seemingly adored.

And the fear, excitement, and pure adrenaline in your body forces it out of you. A rush of heat slamming Sunghoon right in his gut when you convulse under him. Legs shaking as you moan out both in disbelief and intense ecstasy. The blood tastes even sweeter now for him, so sweet that he has to pull back in a guttural and demonic growl.

It’s been so, so long since he’s felt a woman cum around him. His own body reacts in an instant, releasing his own thick secretion into you as you shake through it. Sweating, panting, drooling, crying, bleeding. All for him.

And the explosion behind his eyes is a reminder to keep you alive. He forces himself to keep the inhale from happening as he plunges into you one last time, coating the inside of your bloody walls with a flurry of freezing ropes. Amazed at the feeling he has long forgotten, his body shakes through it and renders him near psychotic for the release.

You continue to shake with him, shivering at how the man makes you feel as if you’ve been lying in snow for days, but you keep your eyes closed.

You’re terrified of him, of this, of the truth hitting you square between the eyes as if it wasn’t obvious all along. Fantasies, legends, fairy tales. How many of them are based in reality?

You know what’s coming now, based on those same stories.

The last bite, the drain, fuzzy images, death.

And you embrace for it, trying to relish in the post-orgasm bliss before it happens because you know there’s no way to run from him. If he’s truly what he says he is, there’s no chance in this world that you can stop him. You’re going to die, and the strange way in which your brain accepts the inevitable is more calming than petrifying.

You never knew you’d be able to prepare for it like this, but here you are. Waiting for it. Accepting it. And when you feel the air of his body shift down to you, right up against your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath.

His cold hand tilts your face and all you can do is anticipate as you feel his teeth graze the abused and swollen marks there.

Here it is.

You inhale deeply, hoping that if there’s an afterlife, this last breath will be a good memory for you until–

A kiss.

He kisses the wounds. He licks them. He nuzzles his cold nose against them, and then he pulls out of you and lays directly on top of you.

It’s silent as you lay here, still trying to prepare to fucking die and he’s just prolonging it?

“Get it over with.” You gripe, frustration dripping out in your weak voice.

It’s laughable, really, that you’ll sound so argumentative and petty over the loss of your life. So laughable that even he’s chuckling about it, right against your ear with no breath fanning against your skin.

“Get what over with, darling?” He asks, not having felt this drowsy drained state in so long.

Your mind is racing though, seemingly trying to think of everything that has ever happened in your life onto everything you wish still could happen, only to consistently land on the fact that you don’t want to believe what’s happening.

You know very well the denial you’re forcing yourself into, even in the face of demise, you don’t want to believe any of this.

“I still can’t believe that you’re— No,” You dead-pan before taking in a terrified breath, still keeping your eyes closed. “They’re not real.”

“I’m very, very real.” Sunghoon argues back, infatuated with the denial you try to keep. “You know that I am.”

“So, you have to kill me then?” Your voice gets smaller as you accept the truth little by little, your breath shakier. “Fucking get it over with then, stop trying to savor it, it’s not like I can run now, right?”

You still like the way he laughs, so breathy despite having no breath of his own. And through that laugh, he lends another kiss before you feel all of that weight lift from you and dip onto the bed next to you instead.

“Don’t beg for it.” Sunghoon warns, pulling away from you and forcing his instinct to remember the release of the orgasm he just had. “I won’t be able to stop myself if you ask me so prettily.”

You pause, your eyes opening against your will as you look at him. He’s facing away from you, but you can see the damp blood drying in the strands of his hair. Your eyes trail down, a puddle of blood staining nearly the entire lower half of the bed and it’s still dripping out of you.

Or perhaps, that’s whatever it is he fucking shoved into you and fucked out of himself.

“None of this is happening.” You say to yourself. “I did not just fuck a vampire.”

“You’re right.” He comments with another laugh. “A vampire just fucked you.”

Well. You’re still not ready to believe that. Even with the absence of heat, even with the lack of breathing.

“Prove it.” You ask, unsure as to why you’re wanting it both to be real and just a dream.

You back away when he immediately does as he’s asked. Turning to you and crawling over you. There, he lowers his body, chest to your cheek.

“Listen.” He says, reaching to hold your face and press it up and against his chest. “Anything?”

You wait, listening for a thump, anything to prove he’s wrong. Fucking any sound at all to blow his cover.

You’re frozen as you listen, your body going into fight or flight as the seconds turn to minutes. Unfortunately, your body is not a fighter, nor a flier. You’re stuck with his hand on your cheek, holding you so tightly against something you wish was alive.

A little thump, thump, thump could be the most relieving sound to you, but no. There’s nothing.

You pull away from him now, body still frozen but head running a mile a minute. How many proofs does he need to provide for you to understand that it’s not fantasy?

And finally, you feel your body jerk away from him on its own. He’s startled by the movement and you use that short second to roll off of the bed. You do your best to stand, but your brain immediately pulses in pain. Your vision goes fuzzy, dizzy.

Right, you’ve lost a lot of blood tonight. To think your toes aren’t still numb, to think you’d be able to stand without dropping to the ground.

“Thousands of years.” Sunghoon stands quickly, stalking over you and wrapping his arms around you. There, he presses you back on the bed and straddles your hips. “I’ve never told another soul and let them live to remember it– until you.”

You shake under him, the weight feeling more dead now than it ever has. He’s heavy as he holds you down, but somehow his grip on you is gentle. His voice is soft. His eyes are hesitant. He’s not holding you here to hurt you, it seems.

“My love, I told you time and time again,” He glances away from you, feeling something within him shrivel at the thought that now you’re unwilling. “Is it different now? To find that I’ve told no lies to you?”

Still, he soothes you as you try to comprehend reality. You think hard through the dizzy fog of blood-loss, running more with your mind than your body. He did tell you. And you’re still alive. He just drank and drank from you, and you’re still alive.

He came to your apartment, he told you he smelled you.

He’s never lied.

You just refused to listen.

He drank you, he fucked you, he held you, and now he’s holding you.

“I don’t want you to fear me.” Sunghoon admits with sad eyes, trying to ignore how long it’s been since he’s felt sad at all.

So many emotions you force him to feel, this was not one he was looking forward to.

“How can I not be afraid?” You breathe out in slurred speech, as if to mock him, because you now know that he truly can’t do it himself.

“It’s too late to be afraid.” He says apologetically. “You’d have died weeks ago had I wanted it.”

Why are you still falling in love with his voice? With his stupid grammar, and his horrifying dead-skin? Even with the fear in your stomach, why does this make your heart flutter?

“I’ve never felt so full,” He admits now, releasing his grip on you slowly. He can smell your heart slow, knowing you’re starting to calm now. “Until now.”

You stare up at him as your eyes recover back to clear vision, in awe of how gentle a killer is being with you. Inspecting the way he’s drenched in your blood, yet you truly still are breathing. He could have killed you time and time again.

But he didn’t.

He’s never once lied to you about what he is, and still you struggle to believe what he says. Even when his words match his actions. Sure, he’s a vampire, but he’s not going to kill you?

What reason do you have to believe him save for the blatant truth behind it? Do you want to believe him? Would you rather be dead?

He knows you can’t fathom the truth so quickly though, and that’s why he’s being gentle. He has nothing more than patience to give to you, if it’ll end in your acceptance anyway. The fact that he can hear your heart beating correctly again only gives him hope that he’s right about not having killed you on the first night.

After all, he truly hasn’t lied to you. Never has he felt full, even after killing several a night. Always hungry, always thirsty, always needing more and more of the syrupy life strangers offer to him under his lure. But you. Entirely aware, flowing with blood that drives him crazy…you’ve managed to fill that desire in him.

Why should he lie to you? Why would he kill you if there is no need? Despite fighting the instinct, he’s satiated by you. His cold body warms with yours. He will never get enough of you, so how on earth could he just…take that away from himself?

And you do stop fighting. In fact, you lay with him in a bloodied mess and sleep. Despite wanting to ask questions, wondering if he can even sleep at all. Your body is tired, your mind is still petrified, and your hands still cling to the source of it, unsure if you’ll make it to morning at all.

Still, somehow, this feels holy.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

PART TWO

#enhypen smut #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut

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starspann · 1 year

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wouldn’t it be nice

joe cooper x reader

fem!reader, she/her pronouns are used

★☆✵☆★

warnings: cursing, violence, suggestive themes

notes: just something short bc i LOVE coop

the one where cooper wants remer’s girlfriend.

★☆✵☆★

cooper wasn’t the jealous type.

he never really considered himself to be one anyway.

in fact, throughout his life, he had prided himself on being the supportive friend, celebrating the successes and happiness of his team and friends, no matter what.

today, cooper stood alone, his gaze fixed upon the boy he grew up with, watching his fingers intertwined with his girlfriends.

he felt different when it came them, and he knew exactly why.

he envied him.

you’d figure it’s because he’s just lonely. because he and jenna didn’t work out, and the fact that he hasn’t gotten laid in months.

if you did, you’d be wrong.

the real reason behind the gnawing ache of jealousy that twisted his insides was caused by the girl currently wrapped in remer’s arms.

he wanted her more than anything.

it was hard for cooper to admit that to himself, even within the private corners of his own mind.

however, there was no denying the truth.

with each passing day, cooper made a conscious effort to suppress the green-eyed monster that threatened to poison their friendship.

that didn’t stop the thoughts of her that constantly ran through his head.

he’d imagine what’d it be like to be in remer’s position. to hold her hand, feel the tender brush of y/n’s lips against his own, the warmth of her embrace.

usually, during a game, as they watched a fellow beers teammate play from the dugout, remer would talk about y/n.

cooper didn’t want to know, yet he’d force the sentence out anyway,

“so, how are things with you and y/n?”

it’s almost like he wanted to outdo him.

remer would make subtle points about how perfect things were between him and y/n while all cooper could do was stare dejectedly, numbly nodding his head and acting like he gave a shit.

he gleefully shared with cooper all the details of her accomplishments, both big and small. he recounted stories of her selflessness and kindness that would bring a proud smile to his face.

but then he’d talk about her in bed.

what pissed coop off was the way remer would talk about it.

he paused, drawing in a deep breath before continuing on to describe some of the more intimate moments from y/n’s life that she most likely may have wanted him to keep to himself. remer seemed determined to tell it all in vivid detail.

“god, coop. she’s unbelievable, really.” he shook his head, “she purrs like a kitten.”

sometimes, this pissed him off so much, he felt like cracking his fist into the brunettes nose, hopefully breaking it and giving his uniform a dark red stain.

yet, he couldn’t help but a feel a little bit grateful for the information about y/n.

then he felt dirty.

he cringes when he remembers the time he heard them through the thin walls of their house and shamefully pleasured himself to their sounds.

cooper can recall countless nights like that. nights he spent tossing and turning, his mind plagued by fantasies he dared not indulge.

so he’d end up taking those feelings to him and remer’s shared bathroom.

it was a ritual at this point.

he’d stumble to the bathroom and hastily lock the door, fiddling with the zipper of his jeans.

one of his porno mag’s lied on the cold, bathroom tile, a well endowed model posing on the front cover.

he’d sigh and pick it up, quickly flipping through before stopping randomly.

he’d stop at some chick staring seductively back at him through the flimsy page.

“okay.. that’s kind of hot.” he thought, palming himself through the rough denim of his jeans.

he’d get off to the magazine but only while thinking of her.

his heart still ached.

walking out of the bathroom, he dragged his feet to his room.

remer is his friend. his best friend since childhood. y/n is his girlfriend. he just had to learn to respect that.

after all, cooper wasn’t the jealous type.

#baseketball #baseketball x reader #trey parker x reader #matt stone x reader #joe cooper x reader #joe cooper #doug remer x reader #doug remer #matt stone #trey parker

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spohkh · 3 years

Text

was telling my dad about how i had to spend however many minutes decoding johnny truants moms letter and how the reader is alerted of her letters being in the appendix by a footnote from the editors on a footnote from johnny truant abt smth entirely unrelated to zampanò’s detailing the events of the navidson record. like. so its basically navidson’s movie -> zampanò’s telling of the movie -> johnnys footnote aside -> editors footnote on the footnote -> appendix… -> reader physically interacting w the text by translating the coded letter. so yeah i told my dad abt the layers i just had to traverse and he was like. did this author have any other fucning job like. was this his only book and i got to tell him no! danielewski wrote a whole other multi-book series, and all the books are as long as house of leaves! fuck!

#alyx if ur reading this. HELP?#beaus books #i am having SOOOO many meta thoughts LIKE WH #WHAT BOOK IS DOING IT LIKE HOUSE OF LEAVES #LIKE THIS IS INSANE?#ITS SO GOOD. CHRIST #STORY WITHIN STORY WITHIN STORY.. WITHIN STORY BC THE READER IS ACTING UPON AND BEING ACTED UPON BY THE BOOK #OKAY?!!!?!?!!?!?!??!?!??!?

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

Cabin In The Woods [M] ~ BC [Request]

WORD COUNT: 4K

GENRE: SMUT, non idol au

PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader

A/N: I had to name the camp this there was no other wayyyyyy Hope you like it!

Camp crystal lake home to some of the most adventurous kids every summer the camp would be home to 200 kids with 16 camp counsellors all in charge of them and you were there every year, along with one of your best friends Bang Chan who was a counsellor as well as a lifeguard that worked on the lakes. The entire camp was huge despite there only being nine cabins that the kids could stay in. Eight of them would house 25 kids within their age ranges since kids from the ages of 13 to 17 came to the camp you had to keep them all in different groups so that group activities were fair to everyone. While the younger kids stuck to swimming, football and other outdoor activities the older kids got to learn and do more. Archery, boating, horse riding, and many more things were all part of your daily activities around the forest. There were two major lakes in the camp, Wilderice lake and Crystal lake the one that the camp was named after and each was just off from the cabins that went on a long stretch of road. Everything was pretty close together the only cabin that was far away from the rest of the camp was Seneca, which was known as the punishment cabin. Mostly because kids who had done terrible things were sent up there, only allowed out to go to the toilet, or meal times other than that they had to sit there bored while everyone else got to do the fun activities. Not completely unsupervised of course, that would be dangerous. A camp counsellor would always go to check on them to make sure they weren't doing anything they would regret or that they weren't in any danger.

"Y/n!" You turned around hearing your name being screamed from the entrance and smiled as you saw one of your favourite kids rushing over to you. A bag around her shoulder as she sprinted into your arms, you span her around a little.

"Hey Alice," You laughed as the small 15-year-old girl began telling you how much fun she was going to have over the summer with everyone.

"I invited my best friend along, Brenda!" A brunette turned around when she heard her name being yelled and jolted over to you and Alice.

"We wanted to see if you and Chan were dating yet," You laughed loudly upon hearing Alice, Chan and you were known among everyone as the flirting pair but it was nothing more than playful banter.

"You're too young to think of boys that way," You began messing up Alice's hair when she moved away from you, whining and straightening out her hair.

"I'm not, I'm 15 and I know you and Chan lovvveeeee each other," You glared at her playfully about to tell her she was wrong when Chan came to stand beside you.

"Ah the trouble maker," He whined out, pretending to be upset that Alice was standing there. She was by far your favourite kid there, always willing to do whatever it took to have fun and even helping out around the camp when she needed to.

"We were just saying how-" Alice stopped speaking when her mother came over, kissing her on the cheek as she began to cry about leaving her at the campground as she did every year. Not that you blamed them, it must have been a nightmare leaving your kids somewhere for two weeks and having no means of communication.

"I'm new, you must be Chan. I've heard a lot," Brenda said as she began shaking Chan's hand with a giant smile on her face, blushing as she turned to look at you.

"Good choice," You pushed her and Alice towards the bus that would take them down into the camp and you ignored as Chan asked what that was about.

"Go, you have your first round of kids at the lake in an hour." You whined as he walked up behind you, tickling your sides as he demanded to know.

"Tell meeee," He whispered in your ear, it felt as though a bolt of lightening ran through your entire body and you whined at him once again. Slapping his hands away from you and shaking your head,

"Go to work, I'll tell you later." Later meant you had enough time to come up with some sort of lie instead of telling him that Alice and Brenda thought you had a crush on him. Which you did but he didn't need to know that. Things between you were good and you didn't want to ruin that by admitting that you had a crush on him, playful flirting was easier than losing him.

"Who have you got this year?" Chan asked as he sat down beside you in the archery field. It was pitch black sine it was around midnight, the two of you had been so busy with the first day of camp you'd barely seen one another besides a brief encounter at the lake.

"Ages 13 to 14, what about you?" You questioned as you looked up from the folder you were studying from, every year you liked to try and get to know each of the kids you would be looking after for those two weeks. Getting to know their names, likes and dislikes as well as what they were allergic to and everything else you would need to know.

"16 to 17," He said with a giant smirk plastered across his face, the camp counsellors that were blessed with the older kids barely had to do a thing around the camp. Take them on the odd walk around the forest or make sure they weren't trying to kill ne another with equipment but that was it. They were practically adults and could look after themselves, of course the counsellors would be around if they needed them.

"You're going to get stuck with the younger ones one summer, even if I have you force you to myself," You joked as you jabbed him with the end of your pen, leaving a small black mark on his white crystal lake shirt.

"Already in uniform?" You frowned looking down at him as you realised he was wearing the red shorts and white shirt combo that was giving to you every year.

"I thought I would be the first one...That and I accidentally spilt a drink down my only good pair of jeans." He mumbled as he looked at you, you began laughing softly before laying your head on his shoulder tiredly.

"It's going to be a great summer," He whispered to you as he nudged your softly,

"Fire night, bring your scary stories and marshmallows!" Someone screamed making you move apart from Chan and nod your head.

"I've got the perfect scary story," You smirked. Fire night was the night camp counsellors got together to try and tell the best story as well as sharing food something you did every year when the kids all went to bed on the first night. It was somewhat of a tradition amoungst everyone for old and new counsellors to get to know one another.

"You probably stole mine from last year," Chan rolled his eyes at you jokingly and you rolled yours back,

"Oh yes because yours about the child who had diabetes was so scary Christopher, I'm still shaking." You pushed his shoulder and got up from the seat you were sitting on, watching as people began filing over in the direction of the fire grounds. It was a huge campfire with logs around it so that everyone could be warm.

It turned out that your story had nothing on what Chan was telling that year, your story was about a girl who got lost in the woods but Chan's was far more creative.

"Jason was never seen again after he entered the lake and every year when the counsellors came to the camp to set up they were all murdered!" He clapped his hands together making you jump as he continued to tell the story of a masked serial killer killing off counsellors one by one using different ways that were all nearly impossible yet creative.

"Then just when the counsellor thought she was safe in the water Jason swam up and dragged her down to the bottom of the lake!" Chan finally finished and you did your best not to act as scared as you were about it. It wasn't as though the story was completely impossible, the thought of someone randomly walking onto the camp was easy and they could just as easily kill everyone if they wanted to.

"You okay?" Chan questioned when he sat back down beside you on the log, giving you a hot chocolate as you stared into the flames.

"Y-Yeah, peachy," Your voice cracked and Chan knew that you weren't okay, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

"I'll keep you safe," He whispered as you snuggled closer to him just enjoying the feeling of being that close to him.

"I'm heading up to my cabin, walk me?" You questioned as you noticed how late it was getting, you weren't scared of the woods but walking around in the dark wasn't something you opted to do alone most nights especially after the story that had just been shared by Chan.

"Sure," He chuckled softly as he began walking down the field with you heading in the direction of your cabins, all 25 kids seemed to be sleeping so your night was going to be easy.

"Are you scared?" Chan nudged as you clutched onto his hand tightly as you stood outside the cabin debating going in or staying with him a little while longer. The sparks you were getting from his hand begged you to stay and feel them longer but you knew you had a long day tomorrow and couldn't.

"N-No," You lied obviously as he smirked at you, hugging you tightly.

"I'll be right next door, if Jason comes for you I'll save you," You pushed him away before going over to the door and opening it up.

"Night," You whispered to him before heading into the room, Chan stayed outside for a moment just waiting for you to come back out but you never did. He hoped you would come back out and beg to stay with him for the night because you were so scared but you never did.

"Night," He whispered to himself before walking in the direction of his cabin for the night which was right next door to yours.

The next day was ruined by the thunderstorm that seemingly appeared out of no where. No outdoor actitivties could be done since it was unsafe for everyone to be in the water and no one wanted to get sick out in the cold.

"Does anyone know where all the board games are?" You questioned as you sat in the dinning hall, 200 kids all staring up at you with unimpressed looks on their faces. You didn't blame them, this was supposed to be one of the best summers of their lives and yet here they were spending it trapped inside where it was raining so hard you thought it was night time.

"Punishment Cabin, we kept them up there last year for Tommy and Ned since they were in there so much." One of the counsellors mentioned as she looked at you, none of you could figure out how to get the kids to calm down so if this was the only way then so be it. Board games and indoor games it would be.

"Christopher. We're going for a walk," You ordered as you grabbed him by the back of his jacket, pulling him towards the door as you stared out at the rain. It was coming down so hard that it looked as though it was a tap gushing out water,

"Why? Why can't you go alone? I'm so dry in here," He whined looking at you but all you did was give him your large puppy dog eyes and he melted, giving into you right away and grabbing his umbrella.

"Let's go." He grumbled as he began heading out into the rain, the two of you sprinting off in the direction of the cabin which was secluded from everything else around the camp.

"Punishment Cabin," You mumbled as you looked up at the cabin, the roof was leaking a little and the door was wide open thanks to the wind.

"Let's get the games and leave," You told him as you headed inside finding everything practically ruined that had been on the floor. It was all soaked in water and the roof was leaking inside and on the beds dripping onto the mattresses.

"Oh shit," He whispered as he looked around noticing everything, a clap of thunder sounded and you jumped back knocking into him as the door slammed shut behind you both jamming in place.

"What the fuck?" You asked as you twisted the handle trying to open it but it was locked in place, not even budging a little no matter how hard you tried to pull on it.

"Here, let the man do it." You scoffed stepping away from the door and watching in amusement as Chan continued trying to do the same thing you had been but with little success,

"Let the man do it," You mocked playfully before sitting down on one of the dry chest of drawers.

"You're just going to sit there?" You shrugged your shoulders since there wasn't much else you could do, the windows were bolted shut from the outside and it wasn't as if you could just smash them open.

"Look, they know we're up here. They'll come looking when we don't come straight down." You reassured him as you shivered a little, it wasn't exactly the warmest in the punishment cabin but you would only be there for an hour at the most.

An hour turned into three and you were sitting in front of the fireplace together trying to stay warm. No one had bothered to come to look for you but not because they didn't want to but that they had planned for this. As soon as the counsellors saw that it was going to rain all day they set their plan into action deciding to take matters into their own hands. They were going to arrange for you both to go up to the cabin and have someone follow behind you, locking you inside and only letting you out when they knew that you had finally confessed your feelings for one another. It was juvenile but they didn't care, every year it was the same. Endless flirting together, the costant hints that you btoh had a crush on one another and they were finally going to make sure you ended up together in ways that were more than just friends.

"I'm cold," You shivered as Chan started up the fire place that was in the cabin, he'd found old scraps of paper and some matches in the drawers you'd been sitting on and started it up. The thought of you getting sick made him feel bad as he looked over at you,

"Here," He whispered as he began laying down dry blankets and pillows in front of the fire.

"We'll warm up together," He promised as you sat down on the floor beside him, his arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. Maybe it was the cold or the fact that you were snuggled together in such a romantic setting but you couldn't help but stare up at him in awe.

"Thanks," You stuttered out as he kept you close to him, your body felt as though it was going to surrender to him. Sitting so close, hearing his heartbeating and the way his fingers traced small patterns on your skin was doing all sorts of things to you. A wetness dripped betwee your tighs as you squeezed them together trying to ignore the sensation and focus on getting warm but it was hard with him right there.

"You know what might warm us up faster," You finally broke the silence as you glanced up at him, the two of you had been sitting in front of the fireplace for ten minutes.

"What?" His voice was smooth as he looked down at you, eyes seeming to sparkle in the light of the fire, one thing came over you and you kissed him. Smashing your lips against him and rolling him back against the floor. At first he didn't do anything, he held onto you until he realised what was happening and gave into the feeling of having your lips on his own.

"F-Fuck," He stuttered out as you pulled away to look at him, his lips were pink from the kissing and you could feel your body heating up from the embarrassment of randomly kissing your best friend.

"I-I'm sorry...I don't know...I just wanted...I've wanted to do that for so long," As soon as the words left your mouth Chan kissed you once again pulling you to straddle his lap as he kissed you softly.

Your hips began to move out of habit and you felt him harder beneath you which meant he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

"N-No one is around," You whispered breathlessly as you began to kiss down his jawline and down his neck. Whimpering at the thought of finally lettin him take you the way you had always dreamed,

"We would warm up faster," He smirked as he ran his hands down your hips pushing at the red short shorts you were wearing. Your whole body tensed as you realised it was finally, really going to happen.

"Do you want to?" You nodded at his question and he kissed you again, making out with yo as you both slowly removed one another's clothes piece by piece.

Laying down completely naked in front of him should have made you nervous but with Chan you weren't at all, he looked at you as if he admired every inch of your skin. Taking a good look as he licked his lips, kissing your lips softly,

"You're so beautiful," He whispered as he ran his fingers down your stomach until he was at your clit, slowly rubbing your wet bud in circles as you let out a whimper.

"So wet, how long have you wanted me?" He smirked as he pushed a finger through your folds, your toes dg into the floor as you mewled out,

"Tell me," He whispered again as he pushed two of his long fingers into you, curling them up to hit your g-spot again and again making your head spin.

"A while!" You stuttered out as you began squirming underneath him as you moaned out his name.

"Me too,2 He whispered as he began kissing you deeply, thrusting his fingers deep into your soaking core. Wet noises filled the cabin as Cha continued to take you with his fingers.

"C-Chan," You breathed out as you gripped onto the blankets that were surrounding you, you felt intensity building up inside of you.

"I-I'm gonna-" You couldn't cum before he took his fingers out of your abruptyly and smirked as he began kissing you possessively, your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him close to you.

"So needy," He chuckled as you let out a hiss when his cock ran through your folds,

"Shut up and fuck me, we've waited too long." You begged as your breath as heavy, he smirked shaking his head and kissing down your body.

"I want to taste first," He whispered as he kissed towards your core, he lingered above your cunt and looked up at you to check that it was okay. Once you gave him a nod he dove his tongue between your lips and began flicking your cunt with his tongue.

"Oh shit!" You screamed out as your hands worked their wayy into his hair, pulling him closer as he continued to eat you out, biting down softly on the part of your outer labia making your eyes roll back.

"J-Just like that," You cried out as you felt your orgasm building again, he hummed against your cunt and you shuddered over and over again as he continued to eat you out like you were his last meal.

"C-Cumming," Your voice cracked as the pleasure exploded in you without warning, your head threw back against the pillows and you filled the cabin with your desperate moans of his name.

He kissed you sweetly as he lined his cock up with your opening, teasing you with the tip as he smirked against your lips.

"No teasing," You whined out, too desperate for any games that he was planning in his head.

"As you wish," He pushed his hips forward slowly, sinking into you. You moaned out squeezing your eyes tightly at the stretching, he stayed still for a moment wanting you to feel comfortable before he even tried to move inside of you,

“Y-You can move," You whimpered as you opened your eyes, his cock felt incredible inside of you, you felt full as you gripped around him as if he had always belonged there.

"Shit you're so tight," He whined out as he grunted, slowly pulling out of you only to thrust back in as he let out a small moan.

"Mmm Chan, please," You begged, digging your heels into his ass wanting him to move faster than he was and he smirked,

"Chan please," He mocked playfully before he began to move his ips faster, fucking into you as you let out moans of pleasure he was sure people would have heard even from the dinning hall.

"Just like that!" You screamed out as he began thrusting harder into you making you squeal out as he rammed in and out of you. Cock hitting so deep you thought if he came it would be deep in your gut.

He continued to fuck into you hard, changing between slow and passionate thrusts to hard and fast ones as he stared down into your eyes.

"Holy shit," You cried out as you felt yourself tighrening around him, the build up becoming too much as you began to cry out his name, pleasure reeling inside of you.

"You close?" He questioned as he felt you tightening more and more with each thrust of his cock.

"Cum for me," He whispered as he bent down into your ear, biting down as you wrapped your legs around his waist drawing him closer if that were even possible until you finally came undone around him. Grunting out he pulled out of you, cumming onto your stomach as you giggled up at him.

"Shit," He panted watching in awe as you ran your fingers through the liquid and licked your fingers clean.

"Y-You're going to be the death of me," He panted ashe laid down beside you and took a deep breath.

"We should move babe," He whispered an hour or two later after you had been laying there, the sun was out and someone was bound to come looking for you now that you had been gone for so long.

"Here-" He handed you the shirt he had been wearing and then your shorts before he slipped on his coat since he had used your top to clean up your stomach.

"Babe?" You looked at him with a smirk on your lips,

"You don't think I'm going to just have sex with you and leave it be, do you? I'm in love with you." He whispered as he kissed your lips again, the door opening just as you kissed each other.

"They finally kissed," Someone announced out of the door, if only they knew the two of you had done a lot more than kissing in that cabin that day.

Tagline: @taestannie @sw33tnight @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @minholuvs @anxiousbobatea @justbangtanthingz

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volturiwolf · 3 years

Text

The Volturi Princess - A Felix Volturi x fem!Reader Story (part 1)

A/N: This is the first Volturi- and Twilight-related story I ever started writing and it is quite long and elaborated/complex, as I tend to overanalyze in many parts. I have wrote a few parts until now and I'll be uploading them in the future. I have been quite emotional throughout writing it, trying to understand the reader's point of view.

A/N 2: I'm sorry if something doesn't make sense. English is not my first language. I also include Italian through the story, with translation, but I'm not a native or a speaker, so I'd like to apologize in advance to those who speak Italian. Enjoy :)

A/N 3: According to "The Amagi" on Youtube, Felix was born in 250 BC (their thumbnail), so I used that in my story.

No of Words: about 5347

Mentions of: Abandonment, Abortion, Anxiety, Blood, Bruises, Coma/Comatosed State, Death Emotional Abuse, Emotional and Physical Pain, Gaslighting, Greece/Greek Language - with translation, Heartbreak, Italian Language - with translation, Manipulation, Murder, Pain, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Suffering, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Swear Language, Throwing Up/Puking, Witches/Wizards/Witchcraft

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My heart felt heavy. I may have just escaped the cruelest vampire of all, but I also ran away from the love of my life, my mate, the only person who could fully understand me in this world. I asked him to run away with me, but, although our bond was strong, he felt obliged to stay loyal to his master, his creator. I drove as fast as I could, away from the sunny Volterra, and away from him.

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(Y/N) grew up quite privileged, in Vampire terms. Being born into the Volturi coven was something many vampires could only dream about. (Y/N) was abandoned by her parents when she was a baby, but Aro, one of the three Volturi leaders, took her under his protection, and offered her more things than she could ever have imagined. After all, she was his only biological granddaughter, the “Volturi princess”, an heiress to the throne; her mother lost that “privilege” when she met and fell in love with a wizard.

(Y/N)’s mother soon got pregnant with her, and then later turned her husband into a vampire to help her with her pregnancy, and stay together forever. However, (Y/N)’s parents couldn’t raise her because they wanted to run free and careless, not commit to anything permanent, so Aro took over and raised his granddaughter with the highest honors and privileges, “as a princess should be raised”.

(Y/N) was a mix of Vampire, Witch and Human, due to the grandmother, Sulpicia, being human when Aro found her; Sulpicia later fell pregnant with (Y/N)’s mother, and Aro transformed her to vampire, as he had planned all along. Aro raised (Y/N) according to his own rules and morals, teaching her how to kill humans to feed from, how to attack and slip away from her opponents, how to lead other vampires, and most importantly, how to keep her identity and existence a secret, not only to humans, but other non-Volturi vampires as well. No one could know that there was a possibility of a vampire having a child with a human, and that the child could be effectively controlled and raised as a regular vampire.

As (Y/N) grew older and older, reaching the human age of 25 within 7 years of her birth, Aro would spend more and more time with her, examining and studying her possibilities and her potential powers’ development. (Y/N) grew up to be extremely strong and fast, an excellent tracker with great intelligence and understanding of the world around her. However, Aro could not risk sending her to “Volturi duties”. She was his hope for a stronger coven; with (Y/N) in the throne, Aro felt like he could conquer the vampire world with ease.

That’s why he was always searching for the best guards he could find, to protect the coven and do his work instead of himself, Caius, or (Y/N). He couldn’t rely on Marcus, as he proved to be too emotional since Didyme died, but was still valuable for his plan. Caius, on the other hand, although powerless, was far more sadistic and “diligent” in following vampire rules, and (Y/N)... (Y/N) was just too obedient, following every order Aro gave her - a strong asset for the Volturi.

Aro was changing guards and trackers quite easily, disposing them when they were no longer needed or when he found better ones. He needed talented and strong vampires to serve the coven and do their work.

Chelsea was the very first vampire Aro created solely to serve the Volturi, after recognizing her potential when she was human. Chelsea’s gift of relationship manipulation was truly useful in bringing new vampires into the coven and was used thousands of times during Volturi's reign. It could also easily dispose of them, making their bonds with other vampires break at will; those vampires were isolated by the other vampires and then killed - Aro couldn’t risk letting them get away knowing the Volturi’s secrets and life.

About 100 years later, Corin joined the Volturi, just a couple decades after (Y/N)’s birth. Corin’s gift of addictive contentment was the one which kept Marcus in the Volturi after Didyme’s death - along with Chelsea’s to make him committed to Aro’s greater plans, and was also used on Sulpicia, Athenadora and any other vampire in the Volturi guard to keep them satisfied being in the Volturi. Under Aro’s instructions, Corin was keeping Chelsea content with being in the Volturi, and Chelsea was keeping Corin loyal to them, each of them using their gifts against each other, without their knowledge.

Sometime between 230 and 220 BC, while travelling in Rome, searching for additional vampires to add to the coven, Aro supposedly met a young, strong and ambitious fighter, who wished to become a gladiator one day, named Felix. Felix did not only look, but also was physically capable of fighting even with beasts, during his short time as a fighter, way before the Colosseum was built. Born into a poor family, his strength was his only way of making money, and becoming a gladiator was his only way out of poverty, a way to provide for both his family and himself.

When his family was almost imprisoned by Roman army officers for outstanding debts, Felix was forced to make a deal with them to fight, in whatever they ordered him to. Fighting turned out to be the only way for Felix to deal with his emotions and rage towards people in power. When Aro approached Felix, he was promised a good life, where he wouldn’t have to worry about surviving another day. Felix did not seem willing enough, not being fond of the idea of serving people in power, who he so despised.

Luckily for Aro, Chelsea was the one who “convinced” Felix to join the Volturi guard, with Aro changing him afterwards. Unlike previous guards, Felix showed impeccable strength, speed and talent towards both dodging and initiating attacks, eventually making him a permanent member in the Volturi Guard, along with Chelsea and Corin.

Felix was assigned as the leading guard for the three kings’ protection, this role extending to the protection of their two wives and (Y/N); though Aro knew that, if it came to anyone attacking his granddaughter, she would be able to handle it by herself. However, he still wanted to make sure that she was safe and that Aro would do anything to protect her.

For about a couple millennias, (Y/N) was content with her situation, being the “Volturi princess” and all that. Besides, having Felix in the Volturi was another reason to stay in the coven, apart from staying loyal and true to Aro for taking her in, when she was abandoned.

Every time Felix looked into her eyes, she felt her whole body burn - though, it wasn’t a feeling of suffering, rather a feeling of longing, waiting for something to happen so badly that her body couldn’t control itself. Although she was partially a vampire, (Y/N) would feel like she couldn’t breathe, like her legs were ready to give up on her, like she wanted to grab Felix and never let go.

Felix, although not admitting it even to himself, would feel the same way, but he knew that his position would not allow him to approach (Y/N) in such a way. He was just a guard - although he was the strongest of them all, and she was the Volturi princess, one of his masters, whom he was only allowed to approach in order to protect. He didn’t want Aro to know he saw his granddaughter like that; it could cost him his position in the guard, or even his life. So, he kept these feelings deep within him, not allowing them to resurface, or act upon them.

However, every time these two existed at the same place, the invisible sparks between them would fly left and right. And only one vampire was able to see them. One who hadn’t felt these sparks in centuries.

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(Y/N)’s POV:

I yawned loudly as I woke from a long, much needed sleep. I was the only vampire around who was able to sleep, mostly due to my non-vampire natures. I didn't really need to sleep on a regular basis, but when I did, I could literally sleep 3 days straight and nobody would be able to wake me up. “For my own protection”, as Aro said, I would always have at least two guards outside of my room’s door, in case anything happened while I was sleeping. Like what could even happen? My room was at the furthest side of this huge castle. I’m pretty sure that if there ever was an attack against the Volturi, it would most probably have been dealt with immediately, and the attacker wouldn’t make it anywhere near my room.

I felt the warm sun on my skin, slightly glowing and sparkling beautifully. My eyes, mostly (Y/E/C) with a golden ring around the pupil, could easily adjust to the light. Unlike the other vampires, I could easily live among humans; I could sleep, eat human food, my skin not being as sparkly as others, and I could control my thirst far better than others.

Since Jane and Alec joined the coven, Aro would show an immense interest in them and their skills, helping them train daily and develop their powers further, eventually forgetting about me. I would spend more and more days away from the castle, “protected” by my anonymity, getting to know humans more and more. The longer I was observing them, the more they would trigger my interest in them. They could feel true emotions, real pain, real hurt, real love. They had their families, they received an unconditional love that I could never have.

Unbeknownst to Aro or anyone else for that matter, I have started developing new powers, similar to the other vampires in the Volturi coven or anyone else outside of it. I have also started noticing that I may have an immunity towards others’ talents, feeling that neither Corin’s addictive contentment made me satisfied with being in the Volturi, nor Chelsea’s relationship manipulation could keep me loyal to Aro anymore. If it weren’t for Felix, or Demetri and the Twins, who have all become my best friends by now, I would have probably left.

A vampire named Carlisle Cullen had visited the Volturi and stayed with us for a while, about 100 years ago. He saw the way the Volturi treated humans like they were nothing, and how they were as cruel as to kill other vampires, with the excuse that they were exposing our kind with the way they lived. Entire covens had been wiped out due to such excuses, a way to eliminate potential enemies from becoming too powerful and find as many talented vampires as possible and force them to join the Volturi.

Carlisle was talking about a new way of life, where vampires wouldn’t have to kill humans to survive, a life where vampires and humans could live in peace, without harming each other. He was insisting that vampires could survive on animal blood just as efficiently as with human blood; that animal blood would not make them weaker, and that it would be a much more ethical and sustainable way to feed.

Of course, Aro and Caius were the first ones to mock his proposition, clearly not caring about humans’ feelings and pain. Marcus did not budge at all, his heartache making him indifferent to anything around him. But I was growing more and more interested in this alternative way of life; I was, after all, feeding on human food already, so that I was feeding on human blood as little as I could.

It was a few years after Carlisle left Volterra that Eleazar joined the Volturi. Aro forced him to join after finding out he could detect if someone had any special ability. Aro considered his gift useful in identifying if any of his enemies had any special power when in battles, or when he sent Eleazar around the world to recruit talented vampires.

Eleazar was clearly not liking the way the Volturi forced their ways and wants on others, and how they could take advantage of others for their own benefit. I could just sense that he was displeased and was forcing himself to stay in the coven, one, due to Corin’s and Chelsea’s gifts, and two, out of fear of what could happen to him and his mate, Carmen.

Carmen, a vampire from Spain, like Eleazar, met with Eleazar while he was a guard here, they fell in love, and eventually, Eleazar decided to leave the Volturi and run away with Carmen. Aro decided that he did not care about him and his gift as much as others’, so he let him go unharmed, “blessing” them for safe travels.

Just a few days before he left, I consulted him on my own powers. Though a lower member of the guard, Eleazar had his own room, a decent place to stay, and spend his endless hours in. I knocked slightly on the door.

“Come in”, a calm voice was heard. I opened the door and came into his room. Carmen was sitting on the edge of their bed and Eleazar was reading a book on his desk. They both smiled sweetly. I just felt and knew they were too nice to fit anywhere in here, among the cruel and strict Volturi.

“(Y/N)! So nice to see you!”Carmen exclaimed and stood to hug me. The second we hugged I started seeing parts of her life in Spain, the calm waters of Catalunya, the vast vineyards where she would spend the early years of her life… I quickly detached myself from her embrace. I just couldn’t invade her privacy like that. She and Eleazar both looked at me worried, as if I had offended them.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t let you “show” me your whole life like that!” I looked at Carmen apologetically.

“(Y/N), you saw Carmen’s life?” Eleazar continued, intrigued by my words.

“That’s why I came to talk to you. I..I feel like I’ve been developing a gift, or a few gifts, to be completely honest. And I feel like.. like I have a specific power one day, and another power the next!” I stated frantically.

It was the first time I have openly talked about my powers to anyone, and I was shaking just by the words that came out of my mouth. Eleazar did not say anything, he just stood there for a few minutes, I supposed “examining” me, as if a doctor checking on a patient.

“Remarkable.” He said calmly. He looked at his mate with excitement, as if he just discovered a lost treasure. “(Y/N) has one of the most remarkable gifts I have ever seen.” He then turned to me. “You, (Y/N), are able to copy anyone else’s gifts and keep them as your own. You don’t even have to be in contact with them. Just by meeting someone, you can obtain their powers. I have never met anyone like that. You also seem to have obtained immunity to others’ powers, kind of like a shield. I have met such vampires before. From the stories Aro has been telling, your mother was like that. It is likely that you copied that gift for her. Such vampires are extremely useful to themselves or even others, in battles. Like themselves, you can use your gift to protect others from others’ powers, beside yourself.”

That came too sudden to my ears. I have assumed that I may have at least one power, but I didn’t realise I could copy others’ powers. That is why I was showing signs of Aro’s power!

“How can I train my powers? Eleazar! Carmen! You have to help me!”

“As you know, we will be leaving soon. I don’t know if there will be enough time to train you.”

“It’s okay. We will train as much as you want. Please, Eleazar! Please, Carmen!” I started begging them. As if they were hypnotized, they quickly looked at each other and agreed to help me.

The next few days, before Eleazar and Carmen’s departure, included intense training, far away from Volterra, deep in the woods, where no human could interrupt us. I couldn’t say the same for vampires, but I hoped nobody would cross paths with us. Eleazar and Carmen helped me develop my self-control and self-awareness, concentrating through the deepest parts of my mind, resurfacing my shield and expanding it beyond my existence. I started to have control over it, as if it was an actual solid substance, a veil floating around me towards any direction I ordered it to go.

After Eleazar and Carmen left, I started travelling the world more, trying to copy as many powers as I could come across with, while also training my shield. My excitement for the endless possibilities was what kept me going - kind of when Aro would add another talented vampire to his Guard. His Guard. Felix. I wonder how he was. I hadn’t seen him in a while. I wondered if he thought of me like I thought of him.

After travelling pretty much anywhere I could reach, I eventually went back to where it all started: I went to Greece. Aro met Sulpicia here, apparently my mom met my dad here. Maybe I could find out, understand why they left me. I have never met them, but I felt as if my tracking skills could detect them through my own existence.

I started travelling through the country, hoping that they stayed here or, at least, that they’re alive. I spent about 2 or 3 years in Greece, trying to take in every different place, while also avoiding the battles that seemed to take place in every other corner. I was feeding off animals mainly, mostly when I couldn’t find any other human food. I was washing myself in rivers, streams, whatever I could find.

I was stopping by any village that seemed to be still standing, asking about the current situation. The Greek Revolution, which started a few years ago, seemed to still be going on. The Ottomans, who had been occupying Greece for almost 400 years, could not allow Greeks to turn against them and start claiming their rights within the Ottoman Empire.

Many Greeks I met and talked to, admitted that some of the Ottomans were actually being nice to them; it was only the Ottoman government ordering their armies to execute massive massacres against Greeks, and after all this time, a few Greeks started gathering up and planning a revolution, away from Greece, in fear of being caught. They started getting organized and finding possible allies to help them with the Revolution; they just couldn’t risk getting caught within the country that they were hoping the independent Greece could become. The battles were becoming more and more intense, both on the mainland, as well as on the islands.

I started looking for answers, anything that could suggest that my parents were still alive and somewhere in Greece. To my surprise, I crossed paths with many Greek nomad vampires all over the country. They were also fighting against either Ottoman vampires or each other for territorial claims; however, they all talked me out of travelling north, towards Macedonia. The region had started being reclaimed back by Greek humans, but vampires were also seeing the potential for the area and they fought against each other for the land.

All of the nomads I encountered were talking about some of the most vicious vampires claiming the land, their enemies being literally slaughtered and burned to set an example for other vampires to back off their territory. I was intrigued, and I knew that, most probably, I would be able to deal with them or flee before they got to me.

So, I started travelling north, through the woods and mountains, in order to avoid any possible battle between humans, though many of them seemed to hide in the mountains, preparing for their battles. Macedonia was a quite big and vast region, so I had to travel quite a few days and search every possible corner.

I know I shouldn’t have done this, but I was feeling exhausted from all the searching. I haven’t fed in quite some time, and my throat was burning by the familiar need for blood. I haven’t seen any animals all these days, and I was wondering if they were gone or hiding.

Sadly, I came across a human. He seemed to be wounded, probably during a battle, his blood gushing out of his body. I couldn’t help myself, when I breathed in the smell, the burning sensation becoming unbearable. I thought of approaching him slowly, so as not to scare him, offering to help him, but deep down I just wanted to feed off of him.

“Γειά! Συγνώμη αν σε τρόμαξα. Σε είδα από μακριά. Μπορώ να σε βοηθήσω με κάποιο τρόπο; (Hey! Sorry if I scared you. I saw you from afar. Can I help you in any way?)” I offered calmly.

The man was trying to suppress his growls. I could sense his pain. I tried to help him stand on his feet, and then I saw all of his memories. He was in the army, fighting alongside Greeks against the Ottomans, in Macedonia, just outside of Thessaloniki. I didn’t even know I was so close to a city, let alone Thessaloniki.

He was trying to pass through the woods, when he came across what seemed to be two red-eyed vampires, one male and one female. They tried to attack him, but someone else managed to shoot him first, forcing the two vampires to run away. I don’t know how or why, these two felt familiar to me, I could feel that through his memories.

“Γειά! Μπορείς.. Μπορείς να πας στο κοντινότερο χωριό; Νομίζω.. Νομίζω ότι είδα κάτι στο δάσος, δε νομίζω ότι ήταν κάτι φυσιολογικό! Πρέπει.. Πρέπει να προειδοποιήσω τους άλλους! (Hey! Can.. Can you get me to the nearest village? I think.. I think I saw something in the woods, I don’t think it was something normal! I have.. I have to warn the others!)” He mumbled in between sharp shoots of pain.

“Με συγχωρείς πολύ! (I’m really sorry!)” I plead with guilty eyes. I put my hand in his wound, searching for the bullet, while he was consumed by pain. I took the bullet out of the wound, and quickly attached my lips on his skin, sucking the blood as fast as I could, biting deeply unintentionally. His screams were becoming louder and louder, so I covered his mouth with my hand, while trying to shut him up or break his jaw. A few seconds later, he stopped screaming, and I let his lifeless body fall, completely numb and drained out of blood.

I felt renewed, his blood travelling to every part of my body and giving me a new kind of strength that I haven’t felt in a while. I still felt guilty for killing him, but he was already wounded and I couldn’t risk him exposing our kind to others. I assumed that whoever found him - if anyone found him - would also assume that he died of blood loss, so I tried to position him in a realistic pose for that purpose, as best as I could. I left him there, and continued the search for my parents.

--------------------------------------------------------

I was running through the woods, trying to locate the two vampires from the guy’s memories. My mind was chaotic, I wasn’t thinking about something specific. I stopped in my tracks. What Aro taught me, and what I understood from Demetri’s tracking skills, is that you have to stop, take a breath and realize your position in the world. Then, you would be able to realize everything around you and find your targets. I have successfully found other vampires like that before, vampires who I have either met in person or smelled their scent, but I didn’t know if I could find someone through someone else’s memories of them.

I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate as best as I could, focusing on the smaller details of the guy’s memories of these vampires. I felt two vampires running on my west, about 10 kilometers away, and I ran after them. They were running fast, but I was way faster. Within a minute or two, I was running right behind their tracks. They must have realized that a stranger was following them, but, instead of running, they suddenly stopped. I stopped as well, and we were now facing each other.

The female had long, brunette, curly hair, and the male short, dark brown, straight hair; both of their hair looked shiny, healthy, and rich. They were of average height and their eyes were piercing red, as if they also fed quite recently. The female was exceptionally beautiful and enchanting; I could only compare her to Heidi’s exceptional beauty. The male looked quite stoic and austere, though still beautiful.

Both of them on defensive positions, waiting for me to attack. I wasn’t planning to move any further from my position; I was only waiting for their own reactions. I felt that kind of a burning sensation within me again, like a feeling buried deep inside me, trying to find an escape.

Suddenly, the male growled at me, flames springing out of his hands, and being thrown at me. I felt my heart fall out of my chest, fearing that this would be my end. As if my body reacted on its own, I felt my own shield extending out of my body, building a wall around me and protecting me from the male’s attack. My hands started burning and flames came out, ready to counterattack the male. The male looked at the female, dumbfounded by what he witnessed, still in a defensive position, but ready to attack again.

“I’M NOT HERE TO FIGHT YOU!” I shouted at both of them. “I’M JUST SEARCHING FOR SOMEONE!”

The male shrinked back, the female following close by. “Who are you looking for? We haven’t seen you around. Who are you? Why are you here?” The male requested. His voice serious, but smooth at the same time; a voice I could only describe as the warm earth below their bare feet.

“No, I’m not. I come from Italy, though I think I was born around here. My name is (Y/N), I’m looking for my parents. I don’t quite remember what they look like, but I’m pretty sure that they lived around here. They abandoned me when I was a baby.”

“This has been our territory for almost 3 millennials! We would have known if any humans abandoned their offspring around here!” The female exclaimed, as if she didn’t believe a word I said. I didn’t want to tell them the whole story, but I had to show them that I didn’t mean to fight in any way.

“I never said they were humans. My mother was actually sort of a vampire, like you.”

The female started letting her guards down. “What do you mean sort of? I’ve never heard of a “sort of vampire” before!” She continued doubtfully.

“Believe me or don’t, my mother was born half vampire, half human. My dad wasn’t even a vampire before she met him. He wasn’t even human to be honest.” My eyes started stinging slightly. I could have had a good, happy life if they didn’t abandon me. I wouldn’t have to grow up with Aro.

“You said you were from Italy.” I nodded at the male, as he continued. “You never said where exactly.”

I wasn’t sure if I should tell them my real origin; I wouldn’t like them to know I was a Volturi, but I knew I needed help to find my parents. If they were actually here as long as they say, they might have known or met my parents at some point.

“Volterra. I was born here, in Greece, like my mother, but grew up in Volterra with my grandparents.” I looked down, kind of scared, kind of anxious, waiting for their next move.

The female gasped. “Are you a Volturi?!” I looked at her, straight in the eyes, swallowed, and nodded. “I know the Volturi. Who are your grandparents?”

“Aro and Sulpicia.” I answered so quietly that, if they weren’t vampires, they wouldn’t have heard me, my voice trembling slightly.

The female suddenly fell on her knees, the male wrapping his arms around her, comforting her. I didn’t know what was going on. Did I say something wrong? Were they scared? The sheer mention of the Volturi would scare a lot of vampires, but I thought that maybe these two seemed strong enough to deal with them.

The female started sobbing, no tears coming out of her red eyes, her body shaking. I felt something within me break. I felt that I didn’t want to upset them, that’s why I was hesitant in telling them who I really was. The male looked at me, pain in his eyes. I saw a familiar look. I saw me in his eyes, what I looked at in my mirror anytime I was thinking about my parents, or, sometimes, when I thought of Felix.

“Are you a half witch?” The male asked quietly. Something snapped in me. How would he know that?

“I swear, I didn’t do anything to your mate! I DIDN’T!” I shouted at the male. I didn’t want him to think that I would hurt his mate, or himself.

“I know you wouldn’t. It’s just..” He looked at his mate who had stopped sobbing, but was still down on her knees, unable to stand up. “..my mate is Aro and Sulpicia Volturi’s only daughter.”

My body tensed and shivered. If that woman is the only daughter Aro and Sulpicia ever had...could that mean..?

I took a few steps back. “AM I YOUR DAUGHTER? ARE YOU MY PARENTS?” I looked at them in disbelief.

Those were the people who abandoned me! That let me grow parentless, under Aro’s rules and directions! I was breathing heavily, in between sobs. I didn’t even realize that I set my whole body ablaze, until both vampires looked at me shocked. I didn’t feel any pain, but I couldn’t stop the flames licking my body, and in my frantic state, I started panicking even more.

The male started approaching me slowly, trying to not scare me away. “Shush, shush. You’re okay. You’re doing okay. I know how it feels at first. You’re experiencing some aspects of the life as a witch. It’s okay. Close your eyes and picture the flames in your head.” I closed my eyes and tried concentrating on the flames. “Now, imagine them burning out, becoming smaller and weaker.” I focused on the flames, imagining them weakening. After a few minutes, I felt them getting smaller and smaller, and finally disappearing. I opened my eyes slowly.

The female was standing next to the male, watching me carefully. In a quick motion, she pulled me and embraced me, stroking my hair lightly. I breathed in her scent, a mix of mountain flowers and the saltiness of the sea. Her touch was soft, and filled me up with what felt like a thousand different emotions.

But, I mostly felt safe. It was the first time in my life that I actually felt this safe. And whole. I felt like I actually belonged somewhere. I hugged her back. Tears started spilling from my eyes. That was my mom! That was actually my mom! After all this time, we were finally together. I felt the male, my dad, hugging both of us, and in that moment, I felt my legs giving up on me, and I finally fell into a long sleep.

#felix volturi #felix volturi imagine #felix volturi x reader #volturi #twilight #twilight renessaince #twilight post #demetri volturi #alec volturi #jane volturi #the cullens #the denali coven

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defectivefanboy · 3 years

Text

a flower bud

After the trip to Inazuma, our beloved traveler comes back to their homestay of Mondstadt. Finally able to rest from the boat ride across the ocean and the people you had to talk to in Liyue and let alone Yanfei trying to see any legal documents you had from there, you were ready to rest. Though like a moth drawn to a flame, the towns bard had set his eyes on you and already set up a plan within his head.

a/n: this is just based on my Spotify playlist, bc hashtag sappy rn. so yeah

C/W: flirty Kaeya. gn!reader x basically anyone everyone. flirty Kaeya x2.

A Flower Bud

Stretching your arms above your head until you heard a pop and sighing as you let them slump down, letting your hands rest on the top of your head. Taking in the sight around you, smiling, it had been a while since you were home. Opting out to walking home instead of just taking a waypoint was a better choice, but the ache in your legs and feet told a different story.

Only being a short bit from the city gates you had just continued to walk the rest of the way. Almost as if Barbatos could sense you near, the wind passed by in a gentle breeze that pushed the loose hairs to tickle your face. Letting out a small huff you picked up your pace a little, walking faster towards the bridge.

It was like the moment you got close to the city, exhaustion began to set in and a yawn escaped your mouth. Upon entering the gate you saw the familiar faces of the townsfolk. Fiona was tending to her flowers, the blacksmith creating his newest masterpiece, and Katheryne sitting at her normal post at the guild.

Giving Katheryne a small wave before making it up the middle path of the city. You would’ve just kept walking, maybe to the Cat’s tail to get a room, but you got interrupted by a voice calling out. Turning your head you were met with a gust of wind and a energetic bard. Though you were tired, a smile made way to your face as you looked at him. “Oh hello Venti” you said, fully turning to him.

“Well hello there Windblume! You look wonderful day if i must say ehe~” with his signature laugh he gave a close eyed smile. As a soft smile adorned your face you spoke with the retired archon about your journey. Without realizing you were stopping to get food, stop into shops here and there, as well as having passing conversations with the people of Mondstadt.

The thought of going to sleep had slipped your mind as the day begun to pass. More so the reason it slipped your mind was because of your own return itself. It seemed everyone came out of the woodworks as night began to fall. The kids have gone to bed and the street lights were lit with their golden glow. At some point within your journey throughout the city you had met up with a few welcoming faces.

While heading out of the church after they had a small chat with Barbara, they passed by Kaeya who was having a conversation with Mona. Upon seeing them, they joined the duo and continued their walk towards the main city streets. Passing down the right stairs two figures could be seen walking out of the knights headquarters. The Acting Grandmaster herself, Jean, and of course the wonderful woman we know as Lisa standing beside her holding a few books and loose papers.

“Just what do we have here~ A bunch of cuties to greet us? How wonderful~” Lisa’s illustrious voice spoke out. Even Lisa was powerful enough to bring a small blush to Kaeya’s face as you all gave a greeting. Venti was quick to invite the two of them to join you as he suggested to go to angels share, most likely as we all know, to drink. Before anyone could say anything Kaeya was quick to answer as he grabbed your hand and begun to walk towards the tavern.

As you all got closer the light smell of alcohol reached your nose. As the drunkards who sat out front could be heard laughing amongst themselves they saw the group and gave a small wave before going back to their antics. Letting out a small laugh you turned your head back to the group as they began to walk in.

To no surprise Kaeya and Venti were already bothering Diluc for wine. Diluc was about to reject them before he saw you and sigh before agreeing to bring up drinks for everyone. Getting up to the second floor it was empty enough that you could pull another table together for everyone to fit.

Sitting down you were at the end of the table next to one of the many windows, which were left cracked to let the night air pass through. It wasn't long before Diluc had come up with drinks for us and sat at the table himself. “Are you joining us brother? Didn't see as one to be for the social scene” Kaeya said slipping next to him.

“I'm still able to take your wine away.” With that quick comment Kaeya as he had entered, slipped away and back to the seemingly already drunk bard. laughing under your breath. You looked around to the rest of the table, the others were talking with each other, sharing a laugh with one another. It brought a smile to your face, as tired as you were, you were happy that you stayed, not everyday you get this.

As the night grew darker and the wind turned colder, the party continued. Diluc kept the tavern open a little longer then he originally intended, but for our lovely Traveler, he’ll keep it open for as long as you need, for him to admit it is another thing. Jean and Lisa watched and laughed as the two infamous drunkards leaped and danced around the second floor as Diluc tried to stop them, Mona was simply enjoyed the food that was brought out along after the drinks.

“Say cutie, what are you doing tomorrow-” Lisa turned to ask you only to be met with you fast asleep on your hand as you stared out the window. “Seems like our honorary knight has fallen asleep” Jean said smiling at your sleeping form. “We should probably get going soon, I don’t want us to intrude on to master Diluc anymore then we have” Mona commented cleaning up the dishes and cups. “Thank you Mona, but you don’t have too. I am still the owner of this place at the end of the night.” Diluc joined in on the cleaning as Mona continued after she stated she wanted to.

As they put the table back in its original spot they bid each goodnight as Diluc walked them out. Walking back upstairs to the second floor to shut the windows Diluc spot two figures. Venti was seat in front of you as you slept, still staring out the window. He had a hand reached over twisting and turning the loose strand of hair between his fingers. Sighing Diluc went back down the stairs and around the counter.

Pull out of his thoughts by a cough, Venti looked to see Diluc standing before him holding a set of keys. “They are to the room upstairs, take them while I'm feeling nice.” smiling venti took the keys as Diluc gently picked you up from your seat at the table and carried you upstairs. Unlocking the door venti held it open as Diluc slowly carried you in, being careful not to bang into anything, before laying you down gently on the bed.

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to get a glass of water and bring it up” Diluc said after he had laid you down and turning around. “Oh thank you, but I'm still pretty sober ehe~” Venti said to Diluc who in returned kept walking, “It wasn’t implied it was for you, bard.” “ehe-” standing there in shock for a moment before he moved towards the bed and laid next to you. That might of been a bad idea because as soon as he laid down and got cozy next you he was out.

Coming back up the third floor with two glasses of water he almost dropped them when he saw the bard sleeping along side you. Sighing he set one down on Venti’s side before he walked to your side to set the other down. Though right after he did and was about to leave, a hand shot out and grabbed his sleeve, trying to pull him back. Looking back he saw your hand reaching and, key word, tried to pull him down to the bed, but being half asleep didn't really help your cause.

For what seemed like the hundredth sigh from Diluc, a small smile appeared on his face as he sat down on the edge of the bed, removing his boots before leaning back and resting next to you. Venti was peacefully sleeping to your left, leaning on your shoulder and hugging your one arm with a smile on his face as he snuggled closer to you. Diluc let out a huffed laugh before he fully laid down and wrapped an arm around the both of you as much as he could before using his arm as a pillow for your head.

It almost seemed like he passed out faster then Venti because as soon as he pulled you two closer it was lights out for him. So as the moon rose high in the sky, I guess you could say, moonlight is what makes the flower bud grow, but we don't need tell them that as you awake for a moment and wink at the “non existent camera”

Again though, it’s only a flower bud, it still needs time to grow ;)

#Genshin #genshin impact #gender neutral reader #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin x gn!reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin venti #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #genshin jean #genshin lisa #genshin mona #head hurts #body sore #hotel? trivago

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enamoured-x · 3 years

Text

Long Enough

Luke Alvez x Reader

Summary: You and Luke share an intimate moment.

Word count: 2.8k

a/n: my first Luke fic bc I miss criminal minds and my rewatch had me missing him like crazy. Enjoy!

*Not my gif

As a member of the BAU for five years, you Penelope, JJ, Tara and Emily had grown extremely close over the years. Always having girls night whenever you could squeeze in time between cases. Currently though, girls night had turned into a team night when Rossi overheard you all talking about going to the bar. He of course invited himself which in turn led to him pressuring Spencer to join and then telling Luke to tag along as well. Matt had his kids to go home to so he decided on a rain check but suddenly, your girls night was nonexistent. You weren’t actually upset about it, although you did love talking to the girls about things you didn’t feel comfortable talking about in front of the guys. What you were concerned about was the fact that Luke was coming. He joined the BAU two years ago and somehow you had developed a small crush on the former ranger. He was incredibly sweet and always knew how to make you smile. But you two were closer to best friends than being anything more. You hung out with him all the time, going for runs with him and Roxy in the mornings occasionally or having dinner at his place or yours. Honestly, you two were glued to the hip. Even though you spent days together while working on cases you would both still make plans to hang out. Even crashing at each other’s place for no other reason than not wanting the night to end but not wanting to go home around two in the morning. All of this being the reason why you didn’t want him to know about your feelings for him. You two had something good going and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin it. Some days you thought he already knew with the way you two flirted. But it was all in good fun, it never meant anything, at least not to him.

Which was why you still wished it stayed a girl’s night. Your girls knew all about your predicament, not from your mouth though, apparently you weren’t as sneaky as you thought you were being. They caught on real quick which then began the constant conversations about Luke and what you should do. The girls were all for you telling him, they even had it in their heads that he felt the same but you didn't know if you were willing to take that risk. Willing to risk your friendship and your comfortable work environment.

You had arrived at the bar with Tara, both of you living within a few minutes of each other made it so you two would car pool a lot. Surprisingly the team was already there, gathered around a standing table.

“They you guys are!” Penelope shouted as you two walked over to the table. Your eyes met Luke and you couldn’t help but smile as he flashed you that big grin of his. Pulling you into him as you got to the table, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“You look great.” He said into your ear, the rest of the team continuing their conversation.

“Thank you, I guess you look alright too.” He barked out a laugh. He didn’t just look alright, he looked delicious. He was wearing an off-white button up with his dark blue jeans and black boots. It was what he usually wore except the soft colored shirt really brought out his tan skin.

“Whatever, I know I look good.” He said and then grabbed a glass on the table and handed it to you, “old fashioned for you.” Your heart warmed at the gesture. You don’t know why you were all that surprised, Luke ordered for you all the time.

“Thank you.” You caught JJ smirking at you and you quickly took a sip of your drink to calm your nerves. You’ve hunted down serial killers but the second your feelings come into question you get scared, unbelievable.

You all slipped into conversation around the table as the night went on.

“Tell them what really happened!” Emily urged you to tell your part of the story of when you decided to go visit her in London. It involved a night out with a rowdy Emily at some bar.

“Emily took it upon herself to start speaking in a British accent after a few drinks.” Emily groaned thinking you were going to defend her actions as you giggled. The table laughed. Luke kept a hand on your waist throughout your whole retelling and when you were about to excuse yourself to get another drink he offered to do it for you.

“I got it.” He said but before he could leave everyone else placed their drink order with him for another round. He groaned and you laughed.

“I’ll go with you.” You said and followed him to the bar. Not before sparing a glance behind you, the whole team eyeing you both and your face flushed as even Spencer and Rossi gave you knowing looks. Jesus, if they knew then Luke had to know. Although Penelope was quick to tell you in the past that Luke might be a profiler but he was still a man therefore he was more than likely clueless about your feelings for him. You held onto that notion as you two came up to the bar. Luke tried to get the bartender’s attention but he was talking to some other people at the other end of the bar. He turned to you, “hold on.” He said before walking his way over to the man. You stayed where you were and before you could look back to see if the team was still watching you, a man took the place right next to you, leaning against the bar as he faced you.

“Hey gorgeous, can I buy you a drink?” He asked, usually you’d admire his dirty blonde hair and his dimples but the only thing on your mind lately was curly brown hair and the most beautiful brown eyes you’d ever seen. You had it bad.

“I’m good. Thanks though.” You said, looking over to where Luke was, finally having got the bartender’s attention.

“Oh come on, just one drink. I just thought you looked really nice in those jeans–” His hand skimmed your thigh and you slapped it away, shocked by the action.

“Do not fucking touch me.” Before you could say anything else, Luke put himself between you and the creep.

“Back the fuck off right now.” Luke told the man. He didn’t look all that bothered as he stood up straight and laughed at Luke. You moved yourself to stand at his side and spared a glance at him. His face tilted up to look down on the man and the harsh glare in his eyes was evidence enough that he was pissed off.

“Chill out, man. Just wanted to have some fun with the pretty lady.” He took his eyes off Luke to look over at you, his gaze made your skin crawl and as if Luke could sense that, he stepped in front of you again and tilted his head to meet the guys eyes again. You were used to creeps who wouldn’t take no for an answer, you were used to having to tell them off and you were obviously more than capable of handling yourself, but something about the way Luke had no problem coming to your defense had you feeling grateful. Maybe even a little refreshing, it was tiring dealing with these kind of men but Luke had no problem with that job.

“She said no, get lost.” Luke demanded. His shoulders were tense and you knew this guy was getting on his nerves for the sole reason that he couldn’t just take no for an answer, he just had to play this game. You grabbed Luke’s arm as you saw the bartender place your drink order in front you both, trying to just get him to ignore the stranger.

“Think I could change her mind.” The guy shrugged and tried to look around him. You pulled at Luke’s arm as he tried to get in the strangers face, “are you fucking serious right now?”

“Okay, let’s calm down.” Rossi’s voice broke the two men’s stare down as he walked up to you three.

“Who the hell are you?” The guy asked. Rossi pulled out his credentials.

“Get lost.” Rossi told him and the douche scurried away as soon as he saw the ID.

“Let’s try not to start a fight on our night off.” Rossi teased as he grabbed the tray of drinks and walked back over to the table. They were all watching you two and you groaned.

“You good?” Luke asked, ignoring the team’s watchful eyes.

“Yeah, you know I don’t need saving, Alvez. I thought you figured that out the other day when I pinned you to the mat at the gym.” You teased him, wanting him to calm down. You knew Luke to be fiercely loyal and extremely protective so him wanting to come to your defense was simply because of that protective nature in him. You admired it.

“Oh how could I forget you on top of me?” He smirked and you hit his arm playfully.

“Shut up, Alvez. Let’s get back to the table.” He laughed as you two made your way back.

“Well, well, well, if you weren’t our girls night and shining armor. Although she doesn’t need one because she can be a badass all on her own and she does not need a man to save her and she clearly could have handled it all on her own.” Penelope smirked at you two and you shook your head as she rambled.

“She does not but doesn’t mean I won’t still try and protect her.” Oh god, your face burned as the others smiled at his sweet words. Emily and Tara shared a knowing look with you. Maybe he did share your feelings after all…

“Anyways,” you said, trying to get the conversation off you two. Eventually they let up and you all slipped into conversation again. Luke kept his arm around your waist and the drinks in your system had you feeling bold enough to place your hand over his where it was resting on your hip. He looked down at you with the action and smiled before placing a kiss to your forehead and then casually kept his conversation with Spencer going. Your heart pounded at the gesture. It was all so intimate, the hand on the waist, his side pressed to yours, the kiss. You were sure to anyone looking over that you two looked like a couple, because friends definitely didn't act like this. JJ was to your right and smiled at you two.

“I think we were right.” She whispered to you and you rolled your eyes.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You warned her. She shrugged but she still held a small smile.

Eventually everyone started leaving one by one, even Tara who decided to hitch a ride with JJ seeing as you weren’t ready to leave yet. Eventually it was just you and Luke. As always.

You were eyeing a group of people who had just walked in and overheard them talking about the club next door.

“What are you thinking about?” Luke asked as he finished his beer.

“I’m thinking we should check out the place next door, I feel like dancing.” You shrugged and his brows raised.

“Well, let’s go.” He ushered you out having closed the tab right after you two got your last drinks. You were not all that surprised at his eagerness, Luke was always down for anything. He grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers with his. You couldn’t contain your giggles as you two made your way inside the dark night club, such a drastic change from the laid back bar you were just at.

“Come on.” He said, dragging you to the bar and getting you two more drinks. The crowded and loud atmosphere meant you and Luke were glued together as you both drank and exchanged words. You were practically hugging him at this point with how close you two were but he didn’t seem to mind as his whole arm wrapped around your waist. You definitely weren’t complaining. You two quickly finished your drinks, the cups being filled with mostly ice.

“Come on, you said you wanted to dance.” He pulled you to the dance floor and you two immediately started singing along to the song as he grabbed your hands and danced with you. His smile never left his face and your heart warmed at seeing it. It was one of his most redeeming qualities. A smile that could put you in a good mood no matter what, a smile that could also become something darker with a bit more curl to his lips. You two grabbed onto each other with each song that passed and before you knew what you were doing, you turned around in his hold. You didn’t have to worry about how he would feel with you pressed against him because he eagerly assumed back control and grabbed onto your hips and pressed his body into yours. Your senses were on fire, the feel of all of him pressed against your back, his warm breath at the shell of your ear, it was all consuming, even the music and crowd of people couldn’t pull you away from this moment.

“Is this okay?” He breathed in your ear, just loud enough for you to make out. You tilted your head to the side and he placed a kiss on your neck. Your breath hitched.

“More than okay.” Is all you said before you two started moving again. Luke’s body pressed fully against your back had your heart beating like crazy. You were sure you’d be more shy if you didn’t have a few drinks in you already but the alcohol was doing wonders for you.

You grinded against Luke as your hips rolled together, his hands digging tighter into your waist. You smiled and felt even more emboldened, so you slipped your hand behind you and grabbed onto the back of his neck while holding onto his arm with your other hand. He nuzzled his face into your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his facial hair tickled your skin. Never had you two been this close before, you wanted to blame the alcohol but you and Luke didn’t have more than a few drinks each. No, this was happening of your own volition. And he was participating fully as well.

Luke pressed his cheek against yours, allowing you to feel his stubble against your skin. You turned your head to meet his eyes and you felt a rush go through your body at how close you two were, noses touching now. You two had stopped moving, now too caught up in the moment you two seemed to be frozen in. His breath fanned your lips and his cologne invaded your senses, making your head cloudy with everything that was Luke Alvez.

“Just kiss me already, Alvez.” You said, tired of the waiting, tired of pinning after your best friend when it had been made clear tonight your feelings were definitely not one sided. He smiled and next thing you knew his lips were pressed against yours. The ache for him settled within you as his lips moved against yours, as his tongue found its way in your mouth. You moaned into his as you felt everything else in the room fade away, just you two and a kiss that was going to change everything.

You finally pulled away to breathe. Luke nudged your nose with his causing you to smile.

“Been wanting to do that for a while now.” He said, he then motioned towards the door and he wrapped his arm around your waist as he led you out. Once outside, the cold air nipped at your skin and you reveled in it. The crowded club was not the only thing that had your skin on fire, Luke’s hands and his gaze was doing that just fine.

“A while, huh?” You smirked and pulled him against the brick wall, your back now pressed to it, the cold stone calming you done from the heated kiss you just shared.

“Since I met you.” He placed one hand on your hip and one against the brick right by your head. His smile was making you flush as it was directed solely at you, and those eyes… a mischievous glint in them.

“Took you long enough.” You said, placing your hands at his neck, “now maybe we should make up for lost time…” You trailed off as he raised a brow and smirked as you pulled him to you.

“We should probably get started,” he said against your lips as you two kissed through your smiles, “two years is a long time.” He added, making you giggle into the kiss.

“Then take me home, Alvez.” With those words, he was pulling you to his car.

Luke was definitely worth the wait.

#luke alvez #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x you #luke alvez imagine #criminal minds

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baepsaesbae · 4 years

Text

Ethereal Encounters

Pairing— Angel!Seokjin x Demon!reader

Genre— Smut +18, comedy, light pining, supernatural au, angel au, demon au, time traveling (this was inspired by Good Omens by Neil Gaiman)

Warnings— oral (m and f receiving), explicit unprotected sex, death (but not really important), somewhat religious talk bc well they’re an angel and demon??

Word Count— ~6.3k

Summary— Since the early beginnings of mankind, you have been tasked with overseeing them and ensuring chaos befalls them. However, you meet an angel who has been tasked with the same duties, only obviously he’s supposed to ensure their wellbeing. How will you deal with him?

A/N— Happy Halloween everyone! This fic is part of @bangtanshadowfamily’s project Moonlight Manor. I had a blast writing this, please let me know what you guys think! Thank you so much to @dee-ehn for making such an angelic banner.

The story of Cain and Abel in the biblical Book of Genesis is well known by many throughout countless generations. The basic rundown is that Cain became jealous of Abel and murdered him. Tragic. However, what isn’t well known is that divine powers were involved. This was where it all started between you and him.

“How dare he. You’re the oldest son. You should have God’s favor,” you whispered into Cain’s ear.

As a high order demon, you were tasked with creating calamities for the stupid creatures that God loved oh so very much. What better way to ensure mankind would be doomed than introducing murder. Even better, the murder of ones own brother. Yes, your plan was ingenious.

“You need to gut him. Gut him like you would the animals you eat. God would have no choice but to cherish you instead,” you continued.

You started to feel the hatred swell within Cain. He sprang to his feet and grabbed his hunting knife. He marched out to the field where his brother was and struck him down. You watched all this transpire with a grin of satisfaction painted across your face.

“Oh no. It appears I’m too late,” you heard a disappointed voice behind you.

Whipping around quickly, you turn to see a defeated looking angel. He was quite handsome. He was tall, had broad shoulders, and lips that formed the perfect pout. You despised him the moment you laid eyes on him. Of course, he’s in a corporeal vessel. His true form would be too much for any mortal to see, and they would combust on the spot. Your corporeal vessel was that of a woman. You figured it would make swindling humans easier later on.

“Who the hell are you?” you snarled.

“Me? Oh, I’m the angel Seokjin. I was sent by the higher ups to oversee the progression of mankind. I was told to make sure they weren’t led astray,” the angel rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Interesting. I was sent by my higher ups to make sure that mankind would be led astray,” you muse, “It seems that we have quite the conflict of interests.”

“It would appear so,” the angel had his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Well Jin--”

“That’s not my name. It’s Seokjin--”

“I don’t care. That’s too long.”

“Too long? It’s two syllables!”

“Who has that kind of time, Jin? Not me. Anywho, my work here is done. Since this place is under both of our jurisdictions, maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” you gave the angel a wink before vanishing from the scene.

That was your first of many encounters with the angel Seokjin.

200 CE

The crowd roared with fervor as the gladiators fought to the death. You were one of the happy spectators watching a man get pummeled to death with the butt of a sword. As the man’s skull was caving in, you heard someone sigh beside you.

“There’s no need to be that cruel. He should cut off the poor fellow’s head and just end it already,” you heard a man say.

“That wouldn’t please this crowd at all. They’re all here because they want to see a spectacle. Chopping someone’s head off at the beginning of the fight would be sooo boring,” you turn to the disgruntled man, “I mean, you gotta pay to watch so--oh my god it’s you.”

The angel beside you was just as radiant as on the first day you met him. Even dressed in Roman apparel, you could tell there was something otherworldly about him. The angel returned the same shock as his eyes grew wide when they landed on you.

“You! You’re the one who started the downfall of man!” he accused.

“Well actually it was the snake that tempted Eve. I wish I could take credit for that. What have you been up to? Jin right?” you greet him as if he were an old friend, slinging your arm around him.

“Wrong. My name is Seokjin. I’ve been overseeing mankind. As I was instructed to,” Seokjin answered while trying to wiggle out of your grasp, “But it seems like no matter what I do, humans always resort to violence. You must be very good at your job.”

“They’re all shitbags like that. It makes my job so easy! I don’t even have to lift a finger,” you brag.

“There are some humans who have nothing but love and compassion for other living creatures--”

“Gross,” you interject.

“--so my faith in humanity is not lost. I think I’ve begun to realize why Father is so fond of them,” Seokjin rations.

“What’s your reasoning?” you inquire.

“Humans like to resort to violence quite often, like you said. But they also like to love and cherish those important to them. I think the free will that they have makes them remarkable,” Seokjin is lost in his own thoughts.

“An angel who has his own opinions? Dangerous territory buddy,” you laugh.

“Oh? Why is that dangerous?” Seokjin’s face contorted in confusion.

“Nevermind. Forget what I said. See ya around, Jin,” you’re about to disappear before Jin called out to you.

“Wait! You know my name, but I don’t know yours. That hasn’t been sitting well with me for the past couple centuries,” Seokjin shyly confessed.

“Aw, you’ve been thinking of me for centuries? What a sweetheart. I’m ___, Mother of Murder, Enslaver of Mankind, and Tamer of Dragons,” you bow.

“Tamer of Dragons? I’ve never seen one,” Seokjin tilted his head.

“Probably because they’re not real and I was messing with you. The other titles are real though. I’m kind of a bigshot downstairs. That’s why they keep me up here. See ya around, angel,” you vanish out of sight.

“___. She doesn’t really seem like the demons I’ve been told about,” Seokjin pondered.

You had a couple more run ins with the angel Seokjin, but unfortunately they were all in passing. The two of you would catch a fleeting glimpse of the other before one of you would vanish. Your time on Earth was starting to bore you. Up until you decided to wreck some havoc.

1350 CE

The black plague, also known as the Black Death, was sweeping across Europe. It had already taken millions of lives, and still had more to go. This catastrophic pandemic was beyond devastating. And you couldn’t be happier. Cart after cart rolled through towns and villages, each one filled with the bodies of the deceased or nearly deceased. The screams of those in agony was music to your ears. You skipped cheerfully along the streets. You couldn’t be more pleased with yourself. After all, the Black Death was your brainchild.

“___!” you stop in your tracks.

“Jin? Jin! How lovely to see you,” you greet him with a warm smile. You started to grow fond of him through the years. His curiosity and sincerity always amused you.

“It’s Seokjin, not Jin. I’m honestly quite worried,” Seokjin sighed.

“About? The humans?” you peer up at him.

“Yes. This plague has gotten out of hand. Sure, humans get sick and die all the time. They’re frightfully delicate. But this? Millions upon millions dead? This must be the work of some...some sort of demon!” Seokjin exclaims before calming himself, “I apologize for my outburst. This whole situation is just too worrisome.”

“You’re right. You must be a sleuth or something,” you say nonchalantly.

“What? Right about what?” Seokjin’s eyes widen.

“This IS the work of a demon. Me! This is all my doing! Pretty impressive no?” the horrified look on Seokjin’s face encouraged you to continue, “So get this. I was bored outta my mind one day, right? Then I started thinking about all the organisms on this planet. From tall to small. Then I realized that bugs are completely on the bottom of the food chain. Very unfair, wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose so, but God intended--”

“Sure sure whatever. I took it upon myself to give bugs a little advantage. Specifically, fleas. I experimented for a bit then settled on giving some of them the ability to infect their prey! Truth be told, I had no idea that the rats they sucked on would become feral. I just thought they’d get sick and die a horrible death or something. Who would’ve thought they’d go around biting humans? Am I the best or am I the best?” you wiggled your eyebrows at Seokjin, who was still staring at you with horror.

“You caused all of this, ___? And it was all an accident?” Seokjin was trying to process what you told him.

“Yeah basically. All because I wanted to make the playing field a little more fair for fleas,” you nodded.

“That’s funny,” Seokjin said curtly.

“Oh yeah? What amuses you so, my angel?” you ask playfully.

“You wanted to help fleas. Fleas. Some would say it was an act of compassion,” Seokjin grins.

“What? No! No, I was just bored. I thought it would be something I could occupy myself with. Don’t look too deep into it, Jin,” you turn away, in hopes of hiding your flushed cheeks.

“Sure sure. Whatever you say, ___. At least you’re probably getting high praises in Hell,” he pats your head fondly.

“Shut up, angel,” you say before vanishing. You couldn’t take the embarrassment any longer. Compassion? From you? No way in Heaven. And what was that? Jin patting your head like you’re some sort of friends? Even though he was growing on you like a tumor, you hadn’t considered him a friend before. Well. Maybe you had. You just didn’t want to admit it. Life can get pretty lonely on Earth for an immortal being. At least you guys have that in common.

In an attempt to befriend Seokjin, you searched for him. Up until now, it has always been him sneaking up on you. You found him in a small village that had just about been completely wiped out by the Black Death.

“Hey angel,” you pipe up, causing him to jump.

“Ah! ___! Hello, you scared me. What can I do for you?” Seokjin smiled, his cheeks bunching up like fresh bread.

“I was wondering if you’d like to get a bite to eat? We can sneak into the nearest Royal family’s kitchen and find something good?” you ask, looking at the ground.

“Eat? We don’t have to do that though,” the angel’s signature confused face took hold.

“Yes I know that. But we’re on Earth now and until the end of time. Or until we get called back. Might as well indulge in Earthly pleasures right?” you try to reason. Your pride would be hurt if he declined.

“Indulge? Isn’t that sinful?” Seokjin said apprehensively.

“I didn’t realize a loaf of bread was sinful. I’ll be right back, just gotta drag yeast into Hell,” you mock. To your surprise, Seokjin laughed. As corny as it is, his laugh sounded like a mixture of bells and a choir of angels. It was truly euphoric.

“To be quite honest, food is one of my favorite things on Earth. I’m fond of desserts in particular. Hearing you suggest eating made me reconsider if it’s a sin or not. But you’re right. A bite of food won’t hurt anyone!” Seokjin concluded gleefully.

That was the start to the tradition of eating together after every encounter.

1943 CE

Although technically mortal enemies, you both enjoyed the companionship now and again. Hearing about each other’s lives never got boring. Seokjin himself was somewhat of an enigma to you. He was childlike in the sense that he was curious about everything, and loved learning about new things. He was also simultaneously serious about everything. Any time he tried to make a joke, it was always lost on you. You soon learned to fake a laugh for him because...because you kind of liked the way his eyes lit up when he was pleased with himself. He always found you entertaining. He admired your confidence. You were the epitome of devious, but even so, Seokjin believed that there was some good in you. You in turn believed there must be some bad in him. At least enough that allowed him to continuously hangout with a demon.

You sat alone in a German cafe, gazing out the window on a gloomy day. You listened intently to the conversation behind you. Nazi soldiers were discussing the satisfying feeling that accompanied terrorizing those who didn’t belong in Hitler’s utopia. You scoffed as you bit into your streusel coffee cake.

“Mind if I sit here?” a familiar voice asked.

“Jin, my darling angel friend, of course you can sit there. I wouldn’t dare let anyone else sit with me,” you smile mischievously.

“It’s Seokjin. Not Jin. Why must we go over this every time?” Seokjin sighed.

“I think the nickname puts us on friendlier terms,” you devour what’s left of your cake, “Oh sorry, did you want some of that?”

“Should an angel and a demon be on friendly terms? And no thank you. Actually, I brought you a little surprise,” Seokjin makes a small decadent box appear from thin air, “These are your favorites, if I recall correctly.”

Your eyes grew wide as you received the box, “Is this…? JIN!!! I haven’t had these in ages!” you cheer gleefully as you open the top.

A familiar sight of perfectly baked macarons laid gracefully within. All your favorite flavors were there: coffee, chocolate, lemon, and other delectable flavors. You breathe in the sweet scent of the goods before choosing your first target. You sway happily as you take the first bite.

“Gift giving is definitely something that friends do,” you say with your mouth still full, “Would you like some?” you offer the other half of the coffee macaron.

“Then I suppose we are friends, ___. I’m happy I ran into you. There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” Jin takes the other half of the macaron, “World War I was atrocious enough. But now all of this World War II business is even more despicable. I was wondering if you had an idea about when this will end. It has been breaking my heart to see all of this horror unfold.”

“So the macarons were a peace offering for information?” your eyes narrowed, chocolate macaron in hand.

“I was in the little French village that made your favorites and thought it would be nice to bring you some. Talking about World War II was actually an afterthought,” Seokjin said. That made you chuckle. Jin was being honest; he’s incapable of lying. If he ever tried, it would never work on you because he was god awful at it.

“I’ll believe you for now, angel. To be honest, the humans did this themselves. I was sightseeing in Mongolia when Germany invaded Poland. I knew that Hitler guy was no good-- I specialize in that-- but he’s damn near as evil as a certified demon. I can’t take credit for any of this. I like creating chaos. It’s what I do. But I find this highly organized genocide distasteful,” you admit.

“A demon finding genocide distasteful? Amusing. See? There must be some goodness left in you. I guess you don’t know when this will end then?” Seokjin asks.

“Not a clue. And don’t you ever say that I have goodness. That’s bullshit. I’m the baddest of the bad. Don’t forget that,” you sneer.

“There’s no need to get hostile, my friend. I should get going. I’ve been trying to help the victims in any way that I can. Needless to say, it has been very busy for the past few years. This was a nice little break. It’s always a pleasure to see you,” Seokjin smiles and bows respectfully before disappearing out of sight.

“The pleasure is all mine, my darling angel,” you say quietly to the empty space before you.

Present Day

“That girl over there looks rather ravishing, doesn’t she? It’s a shame that she’s here instead of your girlfriend. Unless…,” you pour thoughts of infidelity in a random guy’s mind.

You sensed that he was nervous the entire night, and after observing him for a bit, you finally realized why. This man was out clubbing with his friends in celebration of someone’s birthday. His girlfriend isn’t one for going out (or having any sort of fun, from what you can gather in his mind) and he’s been eyeing this one gal the entire night. He was on the fence about whether or not to make a move. Luckily for him, you were in the vicinity that night. The alcohol pumping through his veins made him even more susceptible to your persuasions. You only spoke those few words to him before he made his way over to the girl, who immediately proceeded to grind on him.

“Infidelity huh?” a familiar voice said.

“It’s the easiest sin for men to commit. Women are too tempting for those who can’t control their lust. And by that, I mean probably 99% of all male humans,” you shrug, “It’s my duty to lead humans astray, remember?”

“Of course, how could I forget?,” Seokjin chuckled, “It’s amusing to me that the one who caused the Black Death is now sitting in a dingy nightclub telling intoxicated men to cheat on their significant other.”

“Would you rather me tell him to murder her? Would that please you, Jin?” you raise an eyebrow threateningly.

“Oh dear heavens, no. Please don’t do that. But if you were to do that, I can always intervene and protect the poor girl. And please. It’s Seokjin, not Jin,” the angel pouted. You loved his pout, it made his supple lips look even more delectable. Wait. What are you thinking?

The two of you sat in a booth inside the dimly lit nightclub. After ordering multiple rounds of drinks, Seokjin finally felt loose enough to strike up a conversation. You had been too lost in your thoughts regarding how you felt about your angelic companion to talk.

“How have you been, ___?” Seokjin asked.

“Same as ever. Chillin out, traveling, creating mischief wherever I go. My favorite thing to do nowadays is to fuck up cell phone receptions in really popular areas. The animosity goes through the roof!” you explain.

“Sounds...exciting,” Seokjin takes another sip.

“What about you, angel cakes?” you gaze at him fondly.

“My flower shop has been coming along beautifully! I mean, I want to keep all of the flowers for myself but I guess part of running a business is selling your goods. You should come by and see it. I even have some nightshade. I thought of you when I acquired it,” Seokjin smiled.

“Stop, you’ll make me blush. I’ll come and visit your shop soon,” you finish your drink, “It kinda sucks though,”

“The drink? We can order another--”

“Not that. I’m living the best life I could possibly ask for. The world is literally my playground. But I’m kinda bored. I’ve plunged from the Mother of Murder to inciting infidelity just for the drama. I feel like I’m burnt out,” you pout, sinking into the booth.

“Maybe finding a hobby could help? I like plants, so now I collect and sometimes sell them. What do you like? Come to think of it, I don’t think I really know much about you at all,” Seokjin realizes.

“I’m hurt. We’ve been friends for what? About 6000 years?” you dramatically grasped your chest.

“Friends? You consider me a friend?”

“Are we not?” you retorted.

“I suppose we are. What an unlikely friendship. And one that our bosses will never know about,” Seokjin grins, “Can I ask you something? As a friend?”

“Sure thing. Jin, my best friend in the whole wide world, what do you want?” you bat your eyes at him.

“How did you fall from Grace?”

Hearing the question sobered you up immediately. You never thought Jin would care about you enough to ask such a personal inquiry. It’s akin to asking someone ‘hey, what’s the most traumatic thing that ever happened to you?’ out of the blue. You were staring at your empty cup when Jin spoke up.

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line. I’ve just been so curious--”

“It’s fine. I was just shocked that you wanted to know me on a more personal level,” you laugh nervously.

“Why wouldn’t I? We’re friends,” Seokjin said seriously.

You take a deep breath before answering, “I was curious. Just like you. I didn’t understand why God was so obsessed with the stupid little humans. They were so vile, so vulgar. Even if they knew right from wrong, they sometimes willingly chose what was wrong. I was confounded. Apparently asking questions is the same as undermining His authority. They thought I was going to grow my own free will. An angel who can think for themselves is a threat. And so, down I went. It was a pretty long fall actually. The landing was pretty unpleasant,” you try to lighten up the story.

“I’m sorry, ___,” Jin took a hold of your hands, “At least you still have the wings of an angel.”

“Yeah but they’re all black and tattered now. Yours are still beautiful and pristine.”

“I think your wings are beautiful too,” Seokjin said softly. You realized he was still holding your hands. You slowly retreat from his grasp. You don’t know how to handle the praise coming from the angel.

“Thanks, my darling angel. Anyway. This place is getting kinda boring. You wanna get dessert?” you suggest.

“You know me so well!” Seokjin agreed.

You found yourselves in a nearby gelato shop. You treat yourself to a coffee gelato, while Jin got chocolate gelato. The pair of you opt to sit outside and soak in the city life.

“I thought you didn’t like chocolate? I remember you turning your nose up to the best chocolate I’ve had in my life when we were in Switzerland,” you noticed his chocolate gelato.

“I like the chocolate flavor, but I don’t like chocolate,” Jin said casually, “I love strawberries, but I don’t like strawberry flavored things.”

“You’re so strange,” you let out a laugh. Jin laughed with you, his stoic image started to fade away. Afterward, you both sat comfortably in silence. Being in each other’s company was satisfying. It helped ease the loneliness that you refused to admit you had. Pondering your loneliness alongside your friend had your thoughts drifting to an interesting concept.

“Do you remember that time we decided to indulge in Earthly pleasures for the first time all those years ago? That decision was probably the best I’ve ever made. I love food,” you break the silence.

“I do remember that. I think I’m obliged to say that doing the Lord’s work was the best decision I’ve ever made. But I guess I didn’t really have a choice,” his voice trailed off, “Besides that, eating food with you was probably my best decision too,” Jin smiled, revealing his bread cheeks.

“What if we indulge in a different Earthly pleasure tonight?” you suggest calmly, licking at your gelato.

“Other than food? What do you mean?” Seokjin’s eyes widened with curiosity.

“Haven’t you wondered why lust is such a strong motivating factor for humans?”

“I believe they reproduce for the survival of their species--”

“That’s not what I mean, you silly little angel. I’ve heard from several succubi that they really enjoy sex and--”

“Lust is a sin, ___. It’s literally one of the seven deadly sins,” Seokjin interrupted sternly.

“I said that humans are driven by lust. If we hypothetically partake in this, it would be for research reasons only. Wouldn’t you be of better service to mankind if you could understand them better?” you reason.

Frankly, you don’t give a damn about mankind. Never have and never will. The thought of getting intimate with the angel Seokjin has sparked an excitement in you that you hadn’t felt in ages. Persuasion is your forte, and you’re sure as hell gonna do your best to win him over. Seokjin was silent as he pondered over your proposal. His face was unreadable.

“I’ll admit I have been curious about it. I don’t understand why humans crave it so much,” Seokjin admitted. A smile slowly formed on your face.

“Does that mean you’ll indulge with me? Just as you did when we ate together all those moons ago?” you take his hands in yours.

“Fine, ___. I’ll indulge with you. But purely for research purposes,” Seokjin said firmly.

This city had been your dwelling place for the past couple of years so you had your own place. You giddily led the angel to your apartment. You had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity. Seduction wasn’t part of your job, so you never partook in such activities. It was mischief alone that was your specialty.

When you finally arrived at your apartment, you instructed Jin to wait outside for a couple of minutes while you tidied up the place. With a snap of your fingers, your humble abode was free of any trash and not a speck of dust was to be found. After wondering about what would help set “the mood”, you decided on lighting candles. You figured the dim lighting would help create a sensual atmosphere. The final touch was slipping into promiscuous black lingerie. You had a complete set: stockings, garter, corset, and a bra. You twirled in front of a mirror and was satisfied with the look. You felt like the epitome of a seductress. You made your way to the front door and swung it open, striking a seductive pose. You nearly burst out into a fit of laughter when you saw Jin’s eyes wide with shock and mouth agape.

“You...you look...nice,” Jin stuttered.

“Come on in, my darling angel,” you waved a single finger at him.

Seokjin timidly stepped inside. You took his hand and led him to your bedroom; the walkway was lined with candles. You closed the bedroom door behind Jin as you heard him gulp nervously.

“You scared, Jin?” you teased. Jin couldn’t make eye contact with you. You could barely see his faint blush in the dim lighting.

“No. Maybe a bit nervous. I thought we would just get down to it,” Jin let out an annoyed sigh before finally making eye contact, “And it’s Seokjin. Not Jin.”

“Go straight to fucking? Without foreplay? Aw you really are such a little angel, aren’t you? You sweet sweet vanilla baby boy,” with each word you crept closer to him, eventually wrapping your arms around his neck. He smelled like a mixture of warm honey and wildflowers. His scent was intoxicating. You couldn’t resist any longer as you planted a gentle kiss on his neck, causing him to groan lightly.

“Oh? You like that?” you whispered sweetly.

“I never realized our corporeal bodies were so sensitive,” Jin replied quietly.

“You’re still so tense, angel,” you observed as you massaged his broad shoulders, “I can help you unwind. Part of the fun of sex is indulging in the pleasure, so I’ve heard,” you say as you guide Jin to the bed.

“Let’s make some things clear,” you say as you straddle Jin, “Firstly, you can touch me. I don’t wanna be doing all the work. Secondly, don’t be afraid to act on any urges. I can assure you I can handle whatever you wanna do. Lastly, do you trust me?” you ask. Jin blinked blankly.

“Generally, I’m pretty sure a demon is never to be trusted. But since it’s you, I guess I’ll make an exception. I trust you, ___,” Jin said sincerely.

“I’m touched,” you smile, “Now take off your shirt and pants,” you demand, climbing off of him. Jin complied. Left in only his underwear, he sat on the bed awaiting your next instructions. You soaked in the sight of him. He was fit; his physique had your mouth watering.

“Perfect,” you say, seductively crawling back on top of him.

You lock eyes as you straddle his hips. You lean in slowly, eyes wandering to his plush lips. Jin does the same, leaning towards you ever so slightly. Your lips met gently. After relishing the tender moment, you kiss him more intensely. To your surprise, Jin met you with the same intensity. His hands started to wander as well. Starting with a firm grip on your ass, his hands traveled slowly up to your breasts.

“I don’t think I can fully appreciate you with all this on,” Jin breathed heavily after he broke from the kiss.

“What a cheeky angel. Be patient, love,” you notice a change in Jin’s eyes. There was an intense gaze of lust pouring from his dark brown eyes. It turned you on.

You laid him down and whispered, “Now the fun can begin.”

A blindfold manifested out of thin air and into your hand. Jin looked at the object curiously. He didn’t protest when you wrapped it over his eyes. You smiled at the fact that he truly did trust you.

You kissed him again. You couldn’t get enough of his velvety soft lips. You dared to slip your tongue in his mouth delicately. Seokjin pulled you closer to him as he reciprocated with more aggression. His boldness caused you to let out a small moan.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Seokjin stopped immediately after he heard you. His genuine concern caused you to chuckle.

“I don’t think you’re capable of hurting me, sweet boy. Keep doing what you’re doing,” you say before going back for another kiss.

You reluctantly pull away from Jin’s sweet lips, gently placing wet kisses down his neck and along his chest. You kitten lick one of his nipples as you pinch and twist the other. Jin seemed to enjoy this as his breathing became uneven and he let out tiny moans.

You travel further down to position yourself between his thighs. His erection was obstructed by his underwear. You tug it off, allowing it to free itself. The length was impressive, and his girth was just as satisfying.

You slowly started pumping your hand along his shaft. As soon as you held him, Jin shuddered. You were amused by how sensitive he was. You gave his tip a few kitten licks as you hand was still slowly dragging along his cock. This caused Jin to shift underneath you, and his soft moans were getting louder. You stopped teasing him as you took his entire length in your mouth. Being a divine being gave you small perks such as not having a gag reflex. You sloppily bobbed your head up and down his cock, listening to his sweet groans of pleasure. Hands soon grip your hair, and now Jin was guiding your rhythm.

“Ahh ___... I think I’m gonna...my body feels weird,” Jin muttered between groans.

Without warning, Jin released his load into your mouth. You were surprised by the sudden outburst and pulled away too late. What didn’t land in your mouth splattered all over your chest.

“Huh. So angels can ejaculate. Wild,” you say, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, “You don’t taste half bad, angel. But you did get my lingerie messy,” you tsked.

“I think I’m starting to understand why humans enjoy this so much. Sorry about your clothes, I guess you have to take them off now,” Jin proposed.

“I suppose you’re right,” you chuckle. With a snap of your fingers, the lingerie magically vanishes.

“I wanna feel what you felt,” you whined.

“Do you want me to fuck you now?” Jin asked.

“What else would you do?” you teased.

“You could sit on my face and I can reciprocate the oral sex,” Jin offered.

His straightforward way of talking never ceased to amaze you. It was no surprise that he would talk this way even in the bedroom. You grinned as you positioned your thighs on each side of his head.

“You sure about this?” you ask.

“Sit on my face, ___,” Jin said impatiently.

You slowly lowered yourself onto Jin’s face. You carefully made sure you that the lips lined up. You rested your intimate part gently on Jin’s lips. You shuddered with delight as he licked a long gentle strip along your pussy. Jin began to explore you with his tongue.

“You’re still too far away,” he grunts as he places his hands on your hips and roughly pulls you closely to him.

His nose was buried in your pussy at this point. He darted his tongue in and out of you, causing you to gasp. He brought his hand around to play with a nub located above your opening. Somehow, he figured out that this little nub was extremely sensitive, as you nearly doubled over when he applied pressure on it. You could faintly hear a low chuckle under you as the pressure on your clit increased. Jin’s thumb ferociously played with your clit as his tongue flicked inside you. Your legs began to shake and your moans got louder and more drawn out.

“Jin! Fuck that feels amazing. Don’t stop. My body is starting to feel weird too,” you cry out.

Soon enough, a wave of euphoria coursed throughout your body as you released your juices all over his face. You fell beside him, chest heaving.

“How was that?” Jin asked, licking around his mouth, “You don’t taste too bad yourself, Mother of Murder.”

“You flatter me, angel. You didn’t correct me when I said Jin!” you observed, taking off his blindfold.

“I actually thought it was pleasant. Hearing you moan out my nickname like that spurred me on for some reason,” Jin sighed.

“Oh so you like when I moan out your name? You’re such a naughty angel,” you jokingly admonish, “We still haven’t gotten to the finale yet.”

“Do you want me to fuck you now?” Jin asked.

“Yes, my darling angel. I want you to fuck me now,” you say curtly, “How do you want to take my virginity?” you bat your eyes innocently at him, spreading your legs out.

“Like this would be fine. I think I’d enjoy seeing your face,” Jin leaned down for a passionate kiss, complete with tasteful tongue usage.

Breaking the kiss, he aligned himself with your entrance. He gazed at you tenderly before you nodded at him, signaling for him to proceed. He slowly slipped inside, and you relished every inch of him. The new sensation of the stretch was a bit painful at first, but it soon was replaced with a foreign bliss. You let out a low moan when he finally bottomed out. Eyes fixated on each other, Jin wordlessly began to thrust in and out of you. The bliss was enjoyable, but you craved more. Jin was going too slowly for your taste (even though it was an impressive pace already by human standards).

“Faster. Harder. Fuck me harder, Jin,” you pleaded, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood.

Jin complied, now thrusting with more force at a faster rate. Jin was having a hard time controlling himself, as his grunts started to mix with your moans. You clawed at his back, leaving red streaks across it. Jin suddenly hoisted one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing him to plunge deeper. You let out a high pitched squeal at the sudden switch up. You began to feel a familiar tingle in your lower region.

“Jin, I’m close,” you panted.

“Me too, my darling demon. Let’s finish together, shall we?” Jin replied, sweat dripping from his brow.

It only took a couple more thrusts before you both reached your limits. You felt Jin’s hot cum fill you up as he let out a final groan. You could barely hear him over your own lewd cry as your orgasm hit you hard. As your juices mixed, Jin collapsed on top of you. You wrapped your arms around him and held him tenderly against your chest. You laid together in silence for a while with synchronized breathing before Jin broke the silence.

“Do you think I’ll fall from Grace now? I indulged in the sin of lust. I don’t think the guys upstairs will understand that it was for research purposes,” Jin sounded worried.

“Do you regret it?” you asked quietly.

“Oddly enough, no. It was fun. I’m just worried because I’ve been an angel since the beginning of time. I don’t know how I’ll be anything else,” Jin admitted.

“Have your superiors ever checked up on you since they plopped you onto Earth?”

“Only once, close to the beginning. I never realized that they never check up on me. Does this mean they won’t find out?” Jin’s voice started to pick up.

“I won’t tell your superiors if you don’t tell mine! Although, I don’t think mine would care that much,” you laugh, hugging Jin closer to you.

“Deal. Wow, I really just made a deal with a devil huh?” Jin laughed at his own joke. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and kiss him on the forehead.

“You know...we don’t have to part ways just yet. Stay the night. Let’s snuggle together and pretend we’re humans in love,” you whisper to him.

“Sure, I’ll stay the night. You don’t have to be human to know what love is, you know?” Jin crept up to kiss you gently.

“Shut up, angel. No more mushy talk. Just cuddle me and so I can fall asleep faster,” you snapped.

You switch positions so that you could nuzzle yourself into Jin’s chest. You both fell asleep in each other’s embrace, in each other’s arms and wings. You’ve never felt more at peace than this moment, in which you and Jin were entangled in each other’s wings. Neither of you noticed it, but your wings got a little lighter that night. Neither of your noticed, but Jin’s wings got a little darker that night.

#bts smut #kim seokjin smut #creaturesofmm #bangtanshadowfamily #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #good omens #angel bts #demon bts #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #bts angst #bts comedy #kim seokjin x reader

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periminkle · 4 years

Text

Orphic | 02

After moving into your own place, it seems life is finally going your way; the path to independence leading you to a quaint suburban town where even the grass seems to grow a little greener. Although a shocking encounter leads you to believe that perhaps appearances can be quite deceiving.

pairing: hybrid!jk x reader (first person)

genre: hybrid au, angst, fluff

word count: 7.0k

rating: PG-15

warnings: animal cruelty, death, blood, swearing

author’s note: I cut this chapter into two parts bc it was turning into a monster :((( i did try to research DNA and genes and all that fancy stuff but it was too much for my small brain, so beware of inaccurate facts!!! also wanted to say that my heart hurt writing this </3

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The light breeze fluttering through the back door enveloped the bare skin of my legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

I couldn’t recall the last time I lounged around the house in the morning—not flurrying around like a chicken with its head cut off, in a rush to catch the bus. If it wasn’t work then it was grocery shopping, borrowing articles and studies from the library or filling my car’s empty gas.

Consequently, I refused to change out of the oversized sweater and the lousy pair of bright yellow shorts that currently adorned my laden figure. With any luck, the comfort from the soft articles of cloth would somehow seep into my mental state as well.

Yet the optimistic notion wasn’t proving its validity thus far, becoming a more of a burden due to the lack of a proper barrier between my humble abode and the wilderness outside.

For the most part, the structure of the door was left unharmed but the handle containing the lock that had been smashed into was another matter completely. Upon further examination, accompanied by an hour of fiddling around with the busted latch, it seemed to be a problem beyond my capabilities. I reluctantly admitted defeat and ordered a replacement.

With nothing to secure the door to the adjacent wall, it remained slightly ajar.

Another hour whizzed by, scouring through the limited resources at my disposal to—at the very least—find a temporary fix. I tried taping it shut, propping a chair, a step stool and a table up against the remainder of the handle to no avail.

A stroke of genius hit when I stuck a command hook on the wall nearby, fastening a broken hairband from the latch to the hook. However, the placement of the hook was a little too close and the hairband a little too loose to keep the occasional draft from finding its way inside. My fluffy pokémon shorts provided meager defence at best, but I could hardly spare a thought to the lower temperature when my mind was fully occupied with more urgent matters.

After the run-in yesterday night, I remained by the fridge, shaken from the events that had transpired for longer than I’d like to admit. I was unsure if the familiar sylvan scent that lingered was a result of the stranger or simply a waft from the forest, which wasn’t unlikely, considering my defective door.

Once I’d finally gotten a hold of myself, I dialled the police, doubting that my shaky limbs could safely carry me to the nearest station at such an hour. Other than an aching wrist and some medical supplies that could be restocked, my physical well-being and that of my house were surprisingly fine.

Excluding my poor back door, of course.

I was rather fortunate that the robbery, if stealing bandages could even be labelled as such, was more mentally taxing than anything. The drops of blood were rather annoying to clean off my tiles too, I guess.

Trying to get any rest that night was fruitless, tossing and turning, worried that the man might return for something more valuable or another fiend finding his way inside to do worse.

It struck me as more than a little odd that he would come to my tiny cottage, of all places, for first aid supplies. If he wasn’t looking for some extra coins to pocket, why wouldn’t he go to the hospital? Where had he gotten a wound that couldn’t be treated by a doctor? Maybe he had partaken in various illegal activities that couldn’t warrant the suspicion of a governmental figure? Ugh, my brain hurt the more I thought about it.

Along with my raging thoughts, the perpetual feeling of being watched disturbed my slumber as well. It was if another set of eyes were locked on my vulnerable form, peering past the closed blinds and under the protective layers of blankets I’d piled on. No matter how many times I peeked into the darkness though, I was only met with the sight of my backyard enshrouded in the night sky.

When the rays of dawn broke through the tenebrosity, I abandoned any notion of sleep and hesitantly called Jin, unsure if the busy man was even conscious yet. His bright and cheery voice quelled my worries and I informed him of what had transpired within the past twelve hours. Relief flooded my lethargic frame as he delved into a crazed panic, which I greatly appreciated, accepting his offer to take a day off.

Jin was excessively sympathetic and compassionate, reminding me of a mother goose with how he squabbled over staying somewhere else for the time being and taking a week-long break. But I didn’t want to be a burden on any of my new friends and going back to the city wasn’t an option at this point. Reflecting on the matter for more than day wasn’t necessary either.

I haughtily believed that the criminal didn’t deserve any more free real estate in my mind than he’d already occupied.

In order to comprehend the situation, as well as the fact that I would be utterly useless if I went to work with my mind engrossed in other matters, I thought one day to digest everything and get it out of my system would suffice. Though I knew it would come more so with time, I also had to work on regaining an impression of security within my own walls.

To take a rest from my turbulent concerns, I made a trip to one of the populated parks within the small town, figuring that I would feel more safety in the numbers that would surround me. Ridiculously, I found myself stumped when I got there, drowning in my own vulnerability, so I promptly headed back.

At nightfall, I skipped out on meeting with the cat yet again. Evidently, I lacked the mental capability to tend to my own needs the day before, never mind another being, thus I didn’t visit the little guy. I felt a wash of regret and worry that I hadn’t even set out some food. As a result of yesterday’s blunder, I put a heaping mass of tuna on the porch this time, hoping the animal would understand my apology.

The hours flew by as I sat there, stirring in my own solitude. In order to bring the negativity of the day to an end, I invited the trio I’d gotten close to as of recent, although Jin adamantly refused due to his papers that, “wouldn’t write themselves.”

I took the steaming pot of ramen off the stovetop right as the clear ring of the doorbell resounded throughout the cramped place. Hastily, I placed the noodles onto the table with careful hands, grimacing as I realized it took up a bit more than a quarter of the surface.

With a brisk shuffle, I pulled open my front door to the sight of a disgruntled Yoongi, hidden behind the towering stature of a rosy-nosed Namjoon. I barely made out the mutterings of, “it’s freezing out here,” and “took you long enough,” before I was being shoved aside.

As they trudged over to the kitchen, following the scent of freshly cooked ramen wafting around the house, Yoongi scoffed at my tiny table. Since I only purchased two chairs for the space, I cracked open the step stool to act as another seat. I honestly wasn’t sure what I would have done if Jin had tagged along too. Maybe pulled out the ladder too?

The shorter man grabbed the handles of the pot, heading over to the direction of the living room as Namjoon and I trailed after him like baby ducks. “If we’re going to eat like poor college students then we might as well keep up the act and sit on the floor.”

Although Yoongi’s cold and distant facade perplexed me as I was getting to know him, eventually I picked up on the hints of affection he’d drop every once in a while. Mostly, I found that I was able to burn time fooling around with Taemin as he completed enough drudgery for the both of us or a piping hot mug of hot chocolate would be waiting for me in the break room after long hours.

Even now, though he acted irritated, I knew Yoongi well enough to decipher his true intentions: that he was trying to be considerate of my humble living conditions and opted to play it off as a joke. At this point, I was even inclined to believe he harboured a soft spot for me.

In response, I pretended to be peeved by his actions as I ambled back to gather the bowls and utensils I placed at the table, carrying them to the spot we’d occupied on the floor. It was difficult to hide the growing smile on my face.

Once I’d gotten a few drinks down my throat, I finally felt the tense muscles between my brows and shoulder blades relax, forgetting about the worries that echoed in my head all day.

The TV screen flashed with the intense scenes of an action movie that Namjoon had picked out. I was only half paying attention to the redundant plot line, more interested in the outrageous story spewing from Namjoon’s lips.

“-and now he’s bragging about how one of his puns got milk spilling out of Yoongi’s nose!”

The tipsy state I was in got me laughing harder than I should have, but with both men around me in a relatively similar state of mind, no one seemed to care.

“That’s literal bullshit, Eunmi told me that I was drinking the milk meant for Taemin right when Jin finished telling his dumb joke,” Yoongi complained despite the gummy smile stretching across his features.

I clutched my chest at the mention of one of the creatures who had stolen my heart, “aw, my pretty little Taem, I miss him so much and it’s only been one day!”

“You’re getting too attached to him Y/N, you know that he’s not gonna stay at the lab forever,” Namjoon lightly warned. I knew he was concerned for my emotional welfare, but even the mention of Taemin being taken away got me stewing in my own misery.

“Joon, why would you say—I don’t even want to think about that!” My inebriated state obviously enjoyed to spill more information than necessary when I stated, “I need to cuddle Taemin enough for the both of them.”

“Both?” The younger man spared a questioning glance at his companion in before turning back to me, “do you have a cat?” The two of them began scoping out the area, trying to locate the nonexistent bundle of fur.

“Oh no, no, I wish I could afford a pet but I think taking care of myself is challenging enough for now.” At their probing eyes, I continued, “I was just talking about a little kitty that visits me every night in my backyard.”

Yoongi’s dark eyebrows scrunched together, a huff escaping him. “If you’re talking about a domestic cat, there’s no way it would be living out there,” he pointed to the forest outside with a tilt of his chin.

With the shake of my head, I felt myself sober up a bit as I explained, “I think it’s just one of my neighbours’ pets.”

Namjoon and Yoongi stared at each other, appearing baffled. “Well, it’s definitely not Eunhyuk, his son is allergic.”

“But you think mean old Sangmin would have a cat? We’re talking about the same guy who refused to have kids because he’s ‘not a bank’ right?”

Namjoon redirected his attention to me. “Are you sure it’s a cat? Maybe you just saw a rat or something.”

“No, it can’t be...” Their insistent refusal planted seeds of doubt that began to fester the longer I thought about it; they both lived here for longer than I had and obviously knew the area much better as well. It wasn’t like I had the best eyesight, anyway. But I remembered the piercing emerald green irises peering back at me, slit pupils honed in on my form with vibrant clarity. “It’s definitely a cat. It has to be a cat.”

A teasing snort came from Yoongi, who was leaning back on his palms with disbelief written all over his face. “You’re just seeing things, Y/N.”

I pouted at their lack of trust in me. An aggressive urge to prove them wrong began bubbling in the pit of my stomach and with a glimpse of the time from the clock above the stove, I noticed that it was well into midnight—around the hour in which I’d meet the kitty.

“Yeah, well, if you don’t believe me you can come see for yourself.”

“Is it outside?” I revelled in the satisfaction Namjoon’s widened eyes brought me and loftily smirked at him.

The plentiful amount of alcohol I’d indulged in forbade my legs from gracefully standing, wobbling like a newborn fawn instead as I fumbled over to the door, slipping the loose hair tie off and yanking the faulty mass open. Strangely, the night air was deathly silent, even the usually chirpy crickets seeming to have migrated to another yard.

“Hey, buddy. You out there?” I mumbled, scanning the bushes nearby, trying to pick up even the faintest flutter. “Bud?”

When I felt two pairs of curious eyes pierce my back, the pressure skyrocketed. I couldn’t let them believe I was spouting utter nonsense earlier, but the lack of response wasn’t proving my case very well.

After a few minutes passed with only the low whistle of the wind to keep us company, I felt a tinge of worry knot itself into my belly. “Okay, that’s enough Y/N. Let’s go back in.”

“No! It’s just scared because there’s a lot of people out now, you two go back in. I’ll call you when it’s out.” Desperately, I examined every inch of the stationary woodlands.

“We believe you, just get back in here! It’s cold and you’re not wearing a jacket, come on.” Namjoon’s long fingers wrapped around my forearm, tugging on my hesitant form.

As the dark-haired male dragged me back, I caught sight of the abundant helping of tuna I’d left on the last step of the porch yesterday. A pang resounded throughout my chest, disquiet settling into the recesses of my mind. Why didn’t the creature eat the offering, was it angry that I hadn’t shown up the last few nights? I couldn’t stop myself from imagining the worst; if it got lost somewhere, collapsed from starvation or was brutally killed by another animal.

If either one of the guys noticed the unusual pile of food, they didn’t comment on it.

Once back inside, tucked into Namjoon’s comforting shoulder and Yoongi’s warm side pressed against mine, I found myself unable to focus on anything of value. It was as if all my senses had dulled to an absolute minimum, barely processing what flashed on the bright TV screen and only picking up bits and pieces of the conversation between the two males. All I could think about was what could have possibly happened to my poor kitty.

My eyelids began to droop, heavy from the weight of the last few days’ events. With my body molding itself into Namjoon’s sturdy torso, I welcomed the peaceful darkness.

Taemin’s entire body shook from the force of his tiny sneeze and I could have sworn that my heart ceased its endless beating right then and there, was I in heaven?

Unaffected by my inner turmoil, the baby jaguar started bouncing around, weaving in and out of my legs as if he was participating in his own agility competition. I crouched down to his level to reach for his lithe body. The little guy always transformed into a flurry of excitement whenever I stopped by his cage, elated that he was free to play around without his constricting muzzle.

Once I’d discovered what a sweet bean he was, I couldn’t help but comply to his wishes. It didn’t take a mind reader to see how he consistently pawed at the contraption, even clawing his face a couple times on accident.

The reasoning behind all the safety measures wasn’t lost on me though, as I had witnessed the terror he instilled in most of the staff. About a week prior, I caught Minzi trying to lure Taemin out of his cage with some treats, but all her attempts proved unsuccessful when he didn’t even spare a glance her way.

With an annoyed sigh, she reached into the pocket within her lab coat, retrieving a syringe that I knew she had filled with telazol, a tranquilizing fluid for small animals. That prompted a reaction out of Taemin, his haunches tensing and lowering towards the ground, mouth peeling back in a snarl. The low growling sound vibrating from his small body instantly put me on edge; it was the first time I’d ever seen or heard the animal’s anger.

Before I could move a muscle, the irate woman stuck the needle into his hind leg. Taemin yowled in pain, but sunk his claws into her arm when he got the chance, only able to exact his revenge for a couple seconds before his body fell limp. Minzi detched his paw to find a stream of crimson red besmirching her white coat.

Now that I thought back to it, his growl eerily reminded me of the night of the break-in. Funnily enough, I thought the criminal had the more menacing vibration between the two—and Taemin was a jaguar for god’s sake.

What I found truly inhumane was the assistant assigned to handing Taemin his meals. The callous woman didn’t have half a mind to remove his muzzle before placing a handful of dog kibble in his cage.

At a glance, Taemin appeared severely underweight for his size, but I could have never chalked it up to his nutrition being fed through the bars around his snout. He struggled to attain such inadequate portions that weren’t even created for his species in mind.

Nevertheless, the instant I’d seen his horrifying feeding conditions, I dismissed the careless assistant and took on the task of keeping Taemin alive, a job that I didn’t think someone could fail so terribly at.

Taemin blindly swiped the air, bringing me out of my reverie. I chuckled as I saw he was a just a couple centimetres off the sleeve of my coat and I brought my hand, palm turned upwards, to meet his paw.

His eyelids were shut closed as tightly as they had been the first day he’d arrived at the lab, a fact that Yoongi informed me of when I’d inquired about Taemin’s lack of sight. Neither him nor Namjoon knew why he refused to, or simply couldn’t, open his eyes and my chest ached thinking about the unfulfilling life he was leading.

The memory crushed the lighthearted atmosphere that had arisen from fooling around with the dark-coloured feline. I rubbed the fur covering his foreleg while stealing a glimpse of Yoongi, seemingly hard at work from his hunched form.

“Hey, Yoongs?”

“I thought I told you not to call me that.” The low murmur was slightly muffled from the microscope covering the entirety of his face.

Disregarding his previous statement, I voiced out my thoughts. “What if Taem can actually see? I mean, we could just check whether the PDE6C gene—”

A lengthy exhale interrupted my speech. “Wow, now I guess I know how Jin feels.”

“Listen, I know what you said before but—”

“Y/N, we have tons of gene sequences to analyze, we don’t have time to waste looking for a faulty PDE6C, okay?” He finally tore his gaze away from his work to peer into my pleading eyes, running his fingers through the strands marring his forehead. “You’re lucky I’m even letting you play around considering the amount of work we have to finish.”

At that, I shut my mouth and concentrated back on Taemin’s restless figure, a much better alternative to the DNA waiting to be analyzed at my desk. Since he was confined within his cage all day, I made it my goal to tire him out enough that he would be forced to rest until the next time I had the chance to abandon work, essentially getting paid to keep him amused.

I gently brought his paw to the floor and scurried away to collect his favourite toy; a fuzzy mouse I’d bought one day after discovering the building was devastatingly unequipped to entertain an extremely bored feline.

Although he whimpered at the loss of contact and the sound of my retreating footsteps, I swiftly grabbed the rodent at the bottom of the drawer, by Yoongi’s legs, and hurried back.

Another half hour passed as I tried to exhaust as much of Taemin’s boundless energy as I could, although my plan backfired when I found that my own strength was depleting just as quickly. His natural hunting instincts were definitely still intact, what with the torn up toy in the corner, held together by mere threads at this point. I made a mental note to go shopping for sturdier prey next time.

Presently, he laid on his side as a content, black loaf, purring from the belly rubs he was receiving. To tease the cub, I would pull away every once in a while only to have his long tail wrap around my wrist, tugging my limb back to action.

“Y/N.” My head turned to meet Namjoon who had wandered over from the assistant researcher’s lab where I’d last seen him. “I finished the sequence for his canines. Do you mind leaving it on Jin’s desk?”

I guiltily stood from my seated position, a sheepish grin plastered on as I gave one last pat to Taemin’s head. “Yeah, of course. Could you lock up Taem for me?”

With his affirmation, I took the papers from his grasp and gave a pat to the crown of Yoongi’s bleached head. He shifted towards me in feigned annoyance, but I was out of his reach before he could get back at me and I celebrated my victory with sticking my tongue out.

I began to make my way upstairs, but not before picking up on Joon’s exasperated remark to Taemin, “I hope you know that I could build you from scratch if I wanted to.”

Once in front of the familiar wood of Jin’s office door, I decided to knock in case he had guests. I restrained the awkward memory of walking in on the whole board of directors from resurfacing and distracted myself by rapping my knuckles with more force when there was no response from within. “Jin? It’s Y/N.” I pushed the handle down and pleasantly found it unlocked. “I’m coming in.”

I waited a couple more seconds before opening the door, meeting the chaos that was the assistant director’s office. As per usual, I winced at the mountain of papers piled upon his desk, astonished that it only seemed to grow since the last time I’d seen it. At this rate, I was just waiting for the day that I’d walk in here to see the towers reaching the ceiling.

Striding over to Jin’s side of the desk, I laid the notes down in the dead centre, resting on top of three separate piles. Sympathy flooded my senses as my gaze roamed across the masses. How could such a hardworking individual accumulate so much work while he was working?

Even staring at the copious amounts of print made me feel queasy, hence I hurried to get out of the nauseating area. But, as I scuttled by, my gaze caught on a file with thick, messy letters scrawled on the front.

Jaguar.

To say my curiosity was piqued whenever Taemin was involved was an understatement. After a glance back to ensure that I was able to safely snoop around until my heart’s content, I reached for the file, making sure to keep my posterior to the camera in the corner, concealing my actions.

Ultimately, I knew Taemin was brought in to make progress on their “top secret, strictly confidential experiment,” which meant that I wasn’t to touch any of his files. At least, according to the brusque Minzi I wasn’t. However, an underlying, devious part of me enjoyed rebelling against her words and I secretly rejoiced as I directly disobeyed her orders, opening the folder.

Basic information was scattered along the first page, his name, birthdate, birthplace, so on and so forth. I casually flipped through the rest, finding the documents we routinely handed off to Jin when we’d written down sequences that brought about certain genes concerning the jaguar. This was probably where Jin would store the note Namjoon had made me deliver.

Losing interest, I flipped the bulk of the papers back to the front and seamlessly slid them into the file. When I unintentionally skimmed the first page once again, my eyes caught on a baffling sentence.

Heightened sense of sight, especially keen night vision.

I wet my suddenly chapped lips in my state of bafflement, double and triple checking that the file was indeed for seemingly blind Taemin; the very same animal that was probably napping downstairs. The statistics even matched up with what little knowledge I had about the animal, sending me into a greater spiral of confusion. They must have accidentally written the observation down on the wrong paper.

Unless...?

I shook my head, trying to dispel the outrageous thoughts swarming my mind.

Heading back down, I caught sight of Yoongi still wrapped around his microscope, jotting notes down with his other hand. My attention shifted to the unconscious feline next, muzzled and locked behind bars.

My fists clenched, fingernails engraving crescents into the palm of my hand as I resolved to finally clear out these murky waters.

An hour passed before I finally located it and then another few hours slipped by as I examined the sequence.

The PDE6C gene on chromosome ten. Perfectly intact and working exceptionally until the halfway point, around the thousandth base. Some of the letters got mixed up, binding with incorrect base pairs and bestowing Taemin with his current lack of vision.

Of course, I was prepared to deal with the repercussions of wasting precious time, examining a sequence that did not correlate to any favourable gene. But after connecting some dots, I recognized the agent that brought about such errors.

Ethyl methanesulfonate, or EMS for short. A chemical mutagenic that induces base substitutions, mutating the DNA molecule as a result. I couldn’t imagine why they’d inject a carcinogenic compound into the mammal, but it obviously had something to do with trying to enhance his natural vision.

Did they think the possibility of disabling him was worth the slim chance that his eyesight could improve? By the bases that were effected, I guessed that they were trying to sharpen his sight when submerged in darkness. If the guanine alkylation hadn’t spread so far, they might have succeeded in their experiment.

Nevertheless, their hypothesis was dreadfully incorrect and Taemin was blind as a result of their recklessness.

My grip on the pencil tightened in pure, white fury. In the fruitless hope that the EMS hadn’t affected his whole body, I took several samples of cells from various areas of his body. Albeit, samplings of his cheeks, ears and legs all provided the same conclusion that I’d reached earlier—deformed DNA from ill-fitting base pairs.

All the blood drained from my face from the appalling notion of just how much EMS they must have injected into his blood stream for it to have tampered with every cell in his body. My jaw clenched as my mouth ran bone dry.

They mutilated him.

Digust washed over me, for the false claims that the lab protected their lab animals, for every ruthless employee that harboured such barbaric morals, for myself, who blindly assisted in the cruel methods of this place. My heart rate picked up at my own helplessness, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I scrambled out of the corner I had holed myself up in.

I didn’t know if it was the bruising despair or the fuming rage that had me stomping my way across the halls, headed for the director’s office. The rational part of me was aware of the fact that I couldn’t do anything, change their twisted morals or bring down that metaphorical sword of justice that I was so fixated on. But that didn’t mean I had to play along as a clueless, complaisant pawn in their gruesome experiments.

Keycard or not, I was determined to wreak havoc until I could properly screech obscenities at one of the incredibly asinine brains that ran this revolting laboratory. Storming past the Namjoon and Yoongi’s office, I picked up on a shrill cry that seemed to douse my whole body in ice water, stopping me in my tracks.

A turn to my right gave me a direct view of Minzi struggling to pull a semi-conscious Taemin out of his cage, arms which he desperately wriggled against, thrashing violently to escape her hold. Now knowing what malicious behaviour deserved such treatment from kind-hearted Taemin, I rushed at her.

“How could you!” I roared, seeing red when she turned, glaring condescendingly.

Her calculated eyes examined my rapidly approaching, ruffled figure. “Oh, good, I needed a coffee. Could you fetch me a tranquilizer while you’re at it? I didn’t think he would wake up.”

I grit my teeth as my temper flared, resentment embedded into each of my features. Stopping a step away from her unbothered form, I seethed out, “you guys claim to look after the lab animals? Then why would you permanently damage his genes!”

“What have you been wasting time on instead of researching what we told you to?”

“Answer the question!”

She sneers. “I thought I warned you to stay out of anything that doesn’t concern you. That includes any testing subjects.”

“Testing subjects? How the hell do you think you can get away with—”

“Woah, what’s all the ruckus here?” Hyunho’s lazy form strolled in with a lax yet domineering countenance. The appearance of the other head researcher made my hair stand on end. “Do we need to put up a sign to remind some people that they’re to use indoor voices inside a laboratory?”

My eyes quickly narrowed at his patronizing remark. “I don’t know what kind of fucked up project you guys are conducting, but if you’re harming innocent animals, I don’t want any part of your imbecilic research.”

“Ooh, it seems that newbie is a feisty one, isn’t she?” He took a step towards me, the scent of a cigarette he probably smoked earlier invading my senses and invoking an appealing urge to regurgitate my dinner all over him. “Listen here girly, I don’t know what you’re trying to accuse us of here, but I’ll be sure to report your unruly behaviour to the director if you keep this shit up.”

“As if I give a flying fu—”

A hand wrapped around my mouth before I could unleash the rest of my resentful spew. “Ah, Dr. Lee.” I recognized the subtle undertone of panic in Namjoon’s deep voice as he addressed the burly man with respect that he didn’t deserve. “You see, Y/N had a pretty rough day, some family matters back home, y’know? I’m just going to take her outside to clear her head a little.”

“Yes, that would be a good idea.” Hyunho stepped back to Minzi’s side.

“If you would excuse us then...” I flailed about in Namjoon’s sturdy hold before he all but manhandled my to the back entrance. The refreshingly cool air grazing my overheated skin quelled some of my fury, although I felt its presence simmering beneath the surface. The tall man released my trembling limbs and I whipped my head over to examine Namjoon’s concerned countenance.

Did he know?

I couldn’t bear the thought of any of the limited friends I’d made in this place willingly taking part in such horrid research. They couldn’t have known. My heavy head fell into my hands, thinking of innocent Taemin who didn’t merit the attention of these corrupt individuals, who had no one to protect him.

If I quit my job here, would anyone care for him? Obviously his basic needs would be met, Namjoon and Yoongi would make sure of that, but were they aware of what exactly that experiment entailed? I’d only scratched the surface, but the prospect of finding out every gritty detail terrified me.

I felt an overwhelming weight crushed me, being helpless beneath it all. “Joon,” I managed to croak out, “I didn’t come here for this.”

With the low volume of my voice, I didn’t know how much he’d heard, but a tug on my wrist enveloped my body into his embrace. As he stroked my head reassuringly, I held onto his thin lab coat with clenched fists.

If it meant I could save Taemin, I would keep my mouth shut. If it meant I could act as some salvation to each animal that came into this wretched place, I would stay.

My disgust for the laboratory only multiplied.

“I didn’t come here for this.”

A pleasant tranquility took shape after a brief greeting had been exchanged, both Jin and I on a well-deserved break after too much time cooped up in our respective offices. Well, even though the assistant researchers’ office wasn’t technically mine in title, the majority of my belongings resided in that space. Namjoon didn’t mind much and Yoongi complained about everything under the sun, so I made myself comfortable there.

The hum of electricity powering the building and the whirr of the coffee maker spurring into action intensified as I closed my eyes, resting my head against the back of the sofa. I stared up at the ceiling with a vacant expression and tried to clear my thoughts for a bit.

A ceramic mug clinked against the surface of the coffee table in front of me. “Drink.” I lifted my head to take in the reassuring crinkle in Jin’s eyes. “You look like you’ll need all the energy you can get right now.”

I scoffed at his statement, the end of my own lips flitting upwards. “Just tell me I look like shit.”

Gratefully accepting the cup of coffee, the bitter taste on my tongue already started to rejuvenate my aching muscles. Jin was aware of my deep-seated aversion to the drink, but I guess my appearance revealed too much of the chaos inside my head. “I was going to, but I had a feeling you might just break down if I did.”

Although the work itself was tedious and relatively tiring on its own, the fact that all my efforts were going to fuel that wretched project made me feel rotten to the core. The knowledge sapped my stamina at an exponential rate that I wasn’t accustomed to.

“How’s baby Yeri doing?” I placed the pungent beverage back down, stroking my chin in faux deliberation. “Or I guess I should ask how Chaeyoung is holding up instead, huh?”

Jin let out a hum of aggravation around his own glass, swallowing the liquid before slapping his unoccupied hand against his thigh. “Don’t even get me started. Chaeyoung keeps telling me to take some time off work to come help, but honestly I would take the peace and quiet of the office over Yeri’s nasty diapers any day.” He shook his head at the thought, repulsed by the dealing with another one of Yeri’s accidents.

I’d heard the story one too many times not to let a giggle slip at his misfortune.

Abruptly, an alarming shriek disturbed the placidity. As my head shot up to identify the source, the sound was muffled, then silence resumed. I scrambled to discern who the perpetrator was when my gaze met Jin’s static form. “Did you hear that?” When his weary eyes met mine, appearing confused, I clarified, “that scream.”

“Oh, they probably just dropped something. Don’t worry too much about it.” But I couldn’t find a trace of compassion in his words, especially with how gut-wrenching the shout sounded. Rather than shock, every note was filled with agony and something felt vaguely off about the whole ordeal.

The look of guilt that Jin sported stopped me from prodding. I refused to believe the stubborn man who was always drowning in papers to complete, shoving fried chicken down his throat like there was no tomorrow, who had the sweetest daughter back at home knew anything about the experiment. Not what was really happening.

That’s why the regret and shame written all over his countenance made me pause.

More shuffling, whimpers and yelps filled my limbs with apprehension, seeping deep into my bones and making me restless. Jin kept his gaze trained on the floor, unable to look me in the eye as he excused each sound with the fault of a clumsy, irresponsible researcher and other rationalizations that I wasn’t sure he, himself, believed.

At this point, the raucous was becoming increasingly bestial and I couldn’t decipher the species that was belting out the miserable noises. I tried to grit my teeth and ignore them, distracting myself with Jin’s moronic cover-ups to keep me glued to my spot. Without a keycard, I had no access to the upstairs lab anyway, it was out of my hands for now.

When my thoughts strayed to Taemin though, I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach, recalling how I had been dragged away before I could stop Minzi from taking him. Suddenly, I lost the ability to think logically, fixated on Taemin’s well-being. I had to know if it was him.

Hastily, I jumped out of my seat, coffee long forgotten as I sprinted down the hall. Jin’s pounding footsteps followed after me, though I gave them no mind.

Once I reached the first floor, the sight of two unfamiliar men dressed in heavy gear greeted me. The bulkier of the two lifted the cage as if it were as light as a feather and I noticed how unusually clean it was. “No, you can’t take it upstairs!” I grabbed onto the bars, halting him in his tracks. “Where is he? Tell them to bring him back here!”

“Sorry, no can do miss,” he drawled out. “We were asked to—”

“I don’t care what you were asked to do! Tell them to bring him back!” He rolled his eyes at my accusatory tone and yanked the cage out of my grasp. As I reached out again in a frenzy, the other man blocked my path. The odds weren’t looking too great for me.

I saw Jin emerge from the staircase, following the ruckus I’d created. Relief flooded my veins as I sought his backup. “Jin, they want to take his cage.” Pursing my lips, I pointed to said object. “Could you tell them to leave it here?”

“No, Y/N. Get out of the way.” My breath hitched at Jin’s steely tone, locking onto his fatigued gaze. I tried to remind myself that he was oblivious to the horrors that they’d already inflicted upon Taemin, but the back of my eyes still burned at the betrayal I felt. “Come on, let them do their job.”

Though I refused to show how dismayed I’d become, I couldn’t bear the idea of Taemin residing upstairs, where they could inject anything without suspicion. “Please, Jin. Please. Believe me when I say that he won’t last a day up there.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, let’s go finish our coffee, hm?” I huffed out through my nostrils in frustration, wringing my fingers together as I debated whether or not to tell him the truth I discovered for myself not too long ago.

“Oh, my. What’s this? I believe I told you what would happen if you caused a commotion again, didn’t I?” Feeling defeated already, I didn’t even turn to meet Hyunho’s form as I heard him approach. “I’ll need you to get out of the way now, girly.”

“It’s Y/N.”

His fake grin put his crooked teeth on full display. “Yes, yes. Scurry along now.”

“No.” With a hardened resolve, I glared back at him. “Bring Taemin back. Let him stay on this floor.” Hesitant but desperate, I added a barely audible, “please.”

At my plea, he brightened up, utterly pleased with watching me grovel at his feet. “You should use that tone more often, newbie, it could really get you places.” The stealthy once-over of my chest didn’t go unnoticed by me and I wrapped the lab coat around me tighter. He pulled back a little, satisfied with my discomfort. "You didn’t hear? He died of natural causes, so we have to clean up this mess for the new tiger cub coming in. Don’t worry though, he’ll be staying on this floor when he gets here.”

I took a step back, skin stinging as if he’d slapped me across the face, feeling my blood run cold. Out of the corner of my eye, I noted the bewilderment reflected on Jin’s features, as well as the sudden appearance of Namjoon and Yoongi, both looking as distressed as I felt.

When my breaths came in heavier and burning droplets rolled down my cheeks, I knew the dam had broken. “Don’t feed me that bullshit... You monsters.” I felt my bottom lip quiver as my voice cracked. “Killed him.”

One of Hyunho’s thick eyebrows raised in amusement at my shattered state. “Haven’t you been taught not to mess with fire, girly?” He crossed his arms after giving a flick of dismissal to the man still carrying the cage. “You could get burned.”

A pair of arms wrapped around my torso and dragged me away before I could wail anything out. Through the blurry mess of tears, I made out a discarded, mangled mouse toy by the corner.

tags: @aurorakingsley @bubbletae7 @iamunrecognized @bangtanloverrrrr @walkingdeadfan25

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook hybrid au #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagine

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lillupon · 3 years

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So, I've got a very long rant/opinion here and Idk really know how to say this without coming off kinda bad but I'm gonna say it anyways. I agree with the fact that the seventeen tag has been kinda dry lately on most fanfic places, but it's really only in the smut area. It's the sane way with other groups too I feel like. All of the nice little innocent tags are boomin to this day and thats completely fine. I think the smut tag is dry tho bc lately I feel like a few social issues (like sexualizing people and disrespecting them and their identity) have crossed over into kpop and have been ?blown out of proportion? Lately there's been a rampage of people who like to say that writing smut about someone is disgusting and is dehumanizing because people want to assume that it would make the idols uncomfortable which could equate to some morality issues on how you are reducing someone only to their body without their consent and a bunch of stuff like that. It kind of pisses me off bc this is fiction. About grown adults. Clamping down on horny people who simp over hot asian men isn't going to solve the issues we face in real life. I think a shit ton is wrong with the world we currently live in, and deciding to come after something that isn't even real bothers me. Like what does that actually accomplish. But yeah, I think thats a reason why smut has been dying down. I mean, on youtube almost every video about unpopular opinions, or things they dont like about kpop will include something about shipping idols in fanfics. And then everyone in the comment section will talk about how its all fine and dandy in moderation, but once people start writing smut it's crossing the idols personal boundaries. It's something I've been seeing a lot more often and I think people who are interested in writing smut are being turned away from it bc we've gotten to a point where people are being called disgusting for having fantasies.

Hi Anon, thank you for sending in this Ask.

I want to preface this by saying: when I write or talk about Mingyu and Wonwoo fucking on my blog, it is a fantasy. I am not speculating about what the real Mingyu and Wonwoo might be like in bed. I am imagining the versions of Mingyu and Wonwoo that I have created in my head, that exist only in my stories. None of it is real. I understand that this can be a blurry boundary for some people. But for me, the separation between fantasy and reality is well-defined. Now, on to your Ask!

You’ve hit the nail on the head with this one. You’ve also touched on many of the issues I have been struggling with myself as of late. It’s difficult to argue about morals since everyone has a different set of values, as well as different comfort levels. Some people think real person fiction (RPF) is a gross invasion of privacy. Others are fine with it. And others don’t care one way or another. There is no single answer; I can only offer my answer. Which means, of course, people are welcome to disagree with it, or parts of it.

In this essay (LOL But forreal: this is an essay), I will be sharing my experience in the k-pop fanfic community from 2014 to present, the etiquette I personally abide by as a reader and writer of RPF, as well as my stance on RPF in general.

I started reading and posting fanfics back in 2014/2015 on a website called AsianFanfics (AFF). Obviously, no one on that site had a problem with RPF, since AFF is a platform made specifically for sharing stories about Asian celebrities. For many years, I read and enjoyed RPF with zero guilt. I scribbled away by myself in my own corner of fandom and curated my own content. I didn’t interact much with other fans, readers, or writers. I didn’t have a Twitter, and I only used tumblr to reblog memes. As a result, I’ve been able to avoid a lot of anti-shipping discourse, as well as purity and cancel culture. I had no idea there were so many negative opinions about RPF. It wasn’t until I became active on the subreddit r/Fanfiction last year that I learned about all the discourse surrounding RPF.

This newfound ‘awareness’ does make me feel guilty at times—but only because after mulling this over, I still don’t think this is something to feel guilty about.

Here’s what I remember, first and foremost, when I create and consume RPF: fanfics and my favourite ships are fictional, and fiction is fantasy. This is basic etiquette when it comes to RPF, and most people in the k-pop fandom understand this. Delusional fans exist, of course, but they are not representative of the entire k-pop community.

Another point of etiquette is to keep fanfics within fandom spaces. I would never push my fics into celebrities’ faces, or go around claiming that my fanfics are accurate representations of a k-idol’s life or personality, in any way, shape, or form. I would also discourage directing ship-related questions to official accounts, or bringing them up during fansigns or other face-to-face interactions; I believe that in these instances, shipping does have the potential to strain real-life relationships.

So with basic etiquette out of the way, let me share my approach to RPF in general.

As much as we like to think we know our favourite celebrities, we really don’t. All we see is their public persona. And this public persona is intentionally controlled, managed, and curated by a team of people: directors, tabloids, editors, makeup artists, publicists, etc. How “real” are these celebrities? We are so distanced from them that they may as well be fictional.

I draw from the public persona that idols project, and I work them into my own writing. But at the end of the day, these personalities are my own interpretation. My interpretation is probably nothing like an idol’s actual personality. I just use the “public persona/character” that idols portray as inspiration for my own stories, which are set in wildly different universes.

More than anything, I think of k-pop idols as “actors” in my fic. You know how when you write an original novel, you scroll through Google images, looking for the perfect person to portray your original character? RPF is literally that, except you might build upon pre-existing dynamics and personalities.

When it comes to explicit fanfiction, two main concerns are prevalent: one of consent, and one of sexualisation.

If we argue against explicit RPF due to lack of consent, we should be willing to apply the same lens to all explicit works. How do we know that the creator of a movie, book, series, etc., is okay with us using their characters in our stories, explicit or not? We don’t. Perhaps some creators encourage fanfiction, but don’t want their lovingly crafted characters engaging in sexual acts or experiencing trauma. We just don’t know. I feel this line is even more blurred when we talk about characters from movies or TV series.

Let’s take Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, as portrayed by Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan, from the Captain America movies as an example. I am willing to bet that when people consume and create explicit fanfiction about Steve and Bucky, they are imagining Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan in their heads. I doubt many people are imagining the 2D cartoon versions of Steve and Bucky, even though they’re technically the exact same characters. Why? Well, it could be because movies are more readily and easily consumed than comics, and so people are unfamiliar with comic book Steve and Bucky. But it might also be because fans find Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan attractive. Is this really any different from RPF, where fic authors make up everything about a celebrity’s life?

When readers and writers of fanfic talk about how hot Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes is, those comments are about Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan’s bodies. When reading explicit stories, fans are going to picture Chris and Sebastian’s bodies in their head, doing sexual things. Can we say, “Well, it’s not really you, Chris/Sebastian”, when in a way, it is?

The reality is, people are going to thirst over celebrities, regardless of whether or not explicit fanfiction exists. They’re going to post thirst tweets on Twitter. They’re going to talk to friends and strangers online about how hot [insert celebrity name here] is. They’re going to fantasize about dating and having sex with their favourite celebrity. Or, as it is in my case, they’re going to make up stories in their heads about their favourite idols dating and banging each other. People are going to do all of this without ‘getting consent’ from the celebrity. Cracking down upon and shaming writers of RPF isn’t going to change any of that.

To be honest, I’m not sure why people think it is disgusting to imagine sexual scenarios about real people. It is okay and normal to have these kinds of fantasies. I suppose the alternative is to fantasise about having sex with cartoon characters instead? It’s a very binary way of thinking to say that if you imagine/write real people in explicit scenarios, you are immediately sexualising, dehumanising, or objectifying them. There is more to dehumanisation than writing smut about our favourite celebrities. For one thing, you can love someone and appreciate all parts of them, and still want to fuck their brains out. And generally, fanfics come from a place of love—love that is not only sexual in nature.

Is it the sharing aspect inherent to fanfiction? The possibility that a celebrity might stumble upon explicit works about them? The chances are very low, I think, of the k-pop idols I enjoy writing about coming across my English fics. But I also believe in curating your own content, and that applies to celebrities too. Perhaps a celebrity should not go searching for fanfics about themselves. And of course, people should not show celebrities their fanfics, unless invited.

Another argument I hear against (explicit) RPF is, “How would you feel if someone wrote fanfiction about you?” First off, I don’t like this argument because there’s a difference between someone who decides to be a public figure versus someone who decides to remain a regular private citizen. Celebrities should and do know what they’re getting into when they choose their occupation. (This is not to say, “They are celebrities; sexualise them all you want because that’s what they signed up for.” Here, I am only acknowledging that people might have sexual fantasies about celebrities they are attracted to. Presumably, celebrities are cognizant of this.)

If someone (whose existence I am not even aware of, mind you) decides they want to write explicit fanfiction of me in some tiny corner of the Internet, I wouldn’t care so long as: (1) they don’t shove it into my face, and (2) they don’t harass me and ask invasive questions about my personal life and relationships. It’s not hurting me or negatively affecting my life, so it wouldn’t even register as a blip on my radar. When fanfiction remains within its appropriate spaces, it is largely harmless.

Now, if a k-pop idol were to ask their fans to stop writing fanfiction about them, would I? Yes, I would. However, I can’t imagine that happening. Judging by the number of ‘sexy’ concepts, fanservice moments, and variety shows such as ‘We Got Married’, I am certain that k-pop idols realise they are the stars of many fantasies—some of which are explicit in nature. Considering the prevalence of shipping in the k-pop industry, I would argue that shipping is subtly encouraged.

It’s sad that so many talented writers are shamed out of fandom, or feel that k-pop cannot be the medium through which they tell their stories, or explore their sexuality, or cope with trauma, or simply have fun. Professional works and Hollywood love their RPF—readers and writers of fanfics should be able to, as well.

As you said Anon, “clamping down on horny people who simp over hot asian men isn't going to solve the issues we face in real life” (this is a lovely sentence, by the way). The kind of person who dehumanises another and reduces them to a sexual object will do so some other way, if not via fanfiction. I don’t think the issue of fetishisation can be fixed simply by telling people not to write explicit RPF. In my experience, people who read and write RPF are more respectful and thoughtful about these things than the general public. We’ve all seen the general public say highly sexual things about celebrities in the media and to their faces, or tag celebrities in their thirst tweets. Are these things less invasive than fanfiction? Personally, I don’t think so. And in my opinion, there are more pressing and damaging issues in stan culture than fanfic.

In conclusion, I don’t think there is anything wrong with creating and consuming RPF, both explicit and non-explicit so long as we:

Remember we are writing fiction

Keep RPF within its appropriate space, and

Do not harass celebrities about their personal lives and relationships

RPF is not for everyone. There may be people who enjoy RPF, but draw the line at explicit stories. This is fine. Everyone has their own personal preferences. What is not fine, however, is attacking people for creating things you don’t like. I’m not sure what kind of moral crusade people are on and what they hope to achieve by shaming writers of RPF, explicit or otherwise. Ultimately, fic authors are writing a fantasy. It’s not real; no one is being hurt. I think it’s important for people to curate their own content, and AO3 makes it very easy to filter out explicit works and unwanted tags.

Maybe this is me trying to justify my own participation in explicit RPF—I don’t know. What I do know is that I love k-pop, and fandom is an important part of my media and entertainment experience. I adore the k-pop idols I write about, and I just want to imagine them being happy and getting lots of love and orgasms. Let a bitch be horny, goddamn…

Some bonus fun facts!

At the time I am writing this, on AO3:

26.2% of Stray Kids fanfics are rated M or E

26.3% of Seventeen fanfics are rated M or E

29.0% of Merlin fanfics are rated M or E

34.9% of Captain America (Movies) fanfics are rated M or E

40.1% of BTS fanfics are rated M or E ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Coincidentally, I saw this post on Reddit this morning: Can we have a RPF positivity post?

#asks #my writing #fic & fandom #I keep coming back to fiddle and add things to this answer #but I think I've said all I wanted to now...

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theshadowofme · 3 years

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Well, it’s Bell’s Let’sTalk day, the day where we are suppose to talk about mental health and encourage people to come forward and seek help if needed. It is also a time to share our own stories about our battles with mental health. Today, I will share some more of my journey.

Well, I started my journey into policing back in 2004. Graduated from Depot, and was posted to Northeastern BC. This is where I learned policing, an oilfield town where the government employees were on the low end of the pay scale. When people asked me what policing an oil town was like, I always would say, “it was a great place to learn.” And it truly was. As a new officer, you got exposed to everything. Which was also a negative, as you got exposed to EVERYTHING.

My final year there was my first exposure to an in custody death in the summer of 2007. We received a complaint of a person acting erratically and attempting to smash windows. The long and the short of it, upon arrest, involving five officers, the person went into medical distress, ultimately passing away at the local hospital. From this, I got to be the subject of an investigation, and experience a Coroners Inquest. The outcome of the inquest was that the person passed away from excited delirium, something at that point in time, officers were not trained how to deal with people suspected of suffering from excited delirium.

Shortly after these events, I transferred to my next post, a three person post in the interior of BC. Two weeks after trasferring to this post, the organization changed their policy on on call and what was suppose to be only on call between shifts every once in awhile changed to being on call for probably 5 out of every 7 days of a week. Ultimately I was on call for three months straight at one point. I know that there are members that have gone longer, but this was my reality at the time. Unable to leave town, even when I wasn’t scheduled to be on shift as I was on call for the member that was working that day. Between dealing with no down time and having not processed having a person dying in custody, I started a downward spiral to the lowest point I have ever been in my life. At this point there was no talking about trauma in the organization or PTSD. I still remember the part of training where the mental health discussion was “you’ll have bad days, but you will get over them.”

At my lowest point I seriously contemplated suicide to the point that I had my pistol out one night at work wondering what it would be like. My life was so out of my control at that point that I felt that the only thing that I could control was whether I lived or died. Ultimately I did not do it, but at that point, I saw no other way out and just didn’t care anymore. A week later, I was off work as I couldn’t deal with the stress anymore. It is very disheartening as an officer when your supervisor takes away your service weapon and sends you home.

I started the process of recovery and was diagnosed with PTSD and Major Depressive Disorder. This started the journey of medications and treatments. Medications always seem to have interesting side effects for me. One I didn’t sleep, one my symptoms got worse, and one had other umm... side effects. Sleeping pills either didn’t work or made me into a drooling mess at their lowest dose. After six months I was deemed fit to return to work, which I did. After another year in that office, I transferred to Northwestern BC.

With my transfer to Northwestern BC, I made the vow to myself that I would talk about my experiences to the people I worked with to hopefully prevent anyone from going through what I did. Ultimately, by helping to remove the stigma within the office I worked, it helped others trust me to come to me with their problems and ask for help. I continued this through the rest of my career.

As I have written about in my previous posts, this lead to the week of hell. This time I was better able to read what my head and my body was telling me and deemed that once I was done two commitments I was going off again. Ultimately I was off for two months before I returned to work as I actually enjoyed my job there. Once back from being off, I transferred in the fall of that year to Southeastern BC, my current home. This also involved having a new family doctor.

After two years here, my doctor started to ask me if I wanted to be put off work due to all the things that were going on in my life. She just kept saying to me, “I don’t know how you keep going.” My psychiatrist was also saying the same thing to me as well. At this point, reading my own body and mental state, I was confident that I could continue on. I was able to continue this until another trauma event happened, followed shortly after by becoming the person in charge of the office that was short staffed. I fought through this until I wasn’t able to anymore. I decided that when I was driving to work in the morning and feeling like puking on the way that I shouldn’t be there as I was a liability to the public, my co-workers, and ultimately myself. As the person in charge, I didn’t have anyone to report to locally, so this time around, I locked up my own service weapon, turned the keys over to the exhibit clerk and called the district officer and advised them that they needed to have someone come and run the detachment. I have not returned to work since.

Approximately 5 years ago, I got really sick of being told I had a mental illness and started telling people I had an injury. Most people that I tell this to agree with me and it helps remove the stigma of the source of our problems. As it is Let’s Talk day, I will advise all three of my readers to talk about it. Whether you are suffering, or you see someone else suffering, talk, but remember, sometimes the best way to help someone isn’t by talking, but by listening. Or it could be as simple as giving a recommendation of a psychiatrist. Providing a ride to someone to their appointment because they aren’t able to at that point. So lets remove the stigma and tell our stories. Let the world know that we need the help and let our coworkers know that we are there for them. If you need to talk, PM me. If you already have my number, call me or text me. I would rather talk to you than talk about you at your funeral.

My song selection today is very appropriate as sung by JT and CS. Justin Timberlake and Chris Stapleton. I fell in love with it when I first heard it as it is very true, the greatest way to say something is to say nothing at all. This has so many meanings today. It could mean that when I was at my lowest, by not saying something, I was saying a lot. But coming out the other side, I decided to put myself in the middle as the song says. So without further ado, it is “Say Something.”

Cheers all, and remember, Let’s Talk About it.

#Spotify

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if-weshadows-haveoffended · 4 years

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Harana - Padawan!Obi-Wan x Reader

A/N: Man I really sat on this wip for 3 whole ass years. OBI-WAN AND INFINITE SADNESS? I DON’T KNOW HER. I ONLY KNOW TEA AND MIST DIFFUSERS. There are some sneaky references to Casablanca in here and a section of Anne of Avonlea.

Harana in the rural Filipino tradition is the act of courtship by serenading (with guitar) and often has the serenadee to respond back in kind (also with guitar). Often your bros would help you woo a girl by being your back up players and singers. Imagine Romeo and Juliet balcony but with significantly more guitars and second-hand embarrassment. Also the wookiepedia entry on music is absolutely WILD. (Reposting bc tumblr hates me and the tags were broken)

Title: Harana Tags: @fangirltothe-end , @hellotherekenobi Words: 1650+ Masterpost: here (x) Prompt List: here (x) Mixtape Archive: here (x) The Obi-Wan Kenobae playlist (x)

Perhaps you’d foolishly consider yourself a hopeless romantic.

It just seemed one of those days: sunny and the breeze just a touch warm, the scent of Ithorian roses and Sachi blossoms drifting upon it as you spent a day idly reading upon the balcony of your apartment. Somehow it was as if nothing could go wrong. Not spilling your tea all over the counter, not making your bath far, far too warm, hells not even the dozens of unopened messages on your comm could ruin the quiet serenity you were feeling.

And you may as well enjoy it after all, this reprieve from the tedium of study would only last for a few more days. You’d spent enough time watching holo-movies and idly playing music upon your old guitar as it was. It was time to finally work through that pile of reading you had always intended to get to.

The sun was slowly descending beyond the rolling hills at the horizon and you were well into your bookchip now. A story you felt viscerally, had read and re-read so many times and yet you yearned and pined and loved alongside the protagonists of the story. You would always smile, feeling your soul alight as your eyes traced the words upon the screen. Perhaps that explosive, violent love was never for you. The ones they showed in holodramas where the lovers would dramatically meet at the docking bay for one last passionate kiss. A confession and a farewell all at once. No, you ached for something quieter. Something as constant and warm as sunlight.

‘Perhaps, after all,’ you read, ‘romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a Jedi knight flying down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music; perhaps… perhaps… love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship- ’

You were suddenly pulled out of your reverie at the sound of footsteps and the murmur of a voice.

“Who’s there?” Your hands gripped at a small blaster in the folds of your dress in reaction to the sudden sound, eyes frantically scanning the deceptively serene balcony. Datapad in hand, you slowly made your way to the wide stone ledge. Carefully brushing off fallen blush-coloured petals you precariously leaned over, checking for any assailants below the ledge. Granted it was a stupid idea, but it was worth a shot anyway.

What you hadn’t been expecting was a young man sitting on a balcony ledge below, quietly singing to himself as he stared out into the far distance.

Kriff abort mission, no, nooooooo….nah... nope can’t do this.

You really couldn’t, he looked far too peaceful with one leg tucked under his arm, the other lazily over-hanging his ledge as half-lidded crystal eyes stared out to the peaceful idyll of distant lakes and hills. And yet, you were still there, half-falling off your ledge and staring at this boy as if you’d been ordered to memorise his appearance in order to assassinate him in the marketplace tomorrow. But something tugged at the back of your mind as you took in his relaxed robes in a sort of cream colour, the brown cloak discarded carelessly upon the balcony floor and what appeared to be a braid peeking out from behind his ear-

Oh no, oh kriff… oh kriff, kriff.

You were unaware that the Jedi were even allowed to sing. You’d always been taught that they were a hermit-y sort that didn’t do the whole singing-and-dancing-and-women-and-drink-and-wine-and-merriment sort of thing. Probably spent their free time herding shaak and the like.

But clearly you were very, very wrong.

He was a wonderful singer. His voice carrying the romantic yet mournful tune that you must have heard somewhere before. Was it a play? No, it must have been one of those sweeping holo-movies that always seemed to make every being in the room cry as the battered cantina owner lamented the return of his lost love. What was it? He’d refused to have that song played ever again? And yet he did, drinking whiskey, a single tear falling down his noble features. They’d always have Correlia, he’d say, assuring himself that he truly was fine and not crumbling apart within.

And that young man was still singing the tune, and you… you were simply transfixed at his beauty and his serenity, wondering what other power in the galaxy had blessed him so with coppery hair that glistened just so under the blaze of the setting sun.

“Hello there!” He turned suddenly and cheerfully waved to you.

There were many things you would tell people in the future about that time you first encountered the famous General Kenobi; “The Negotiator”. His kindness, his laughter, his smile…What you wouldn’t tell them, was the absolute mess you’d made of yourself while you fell off your balcony ledge and onto your tiled floor.

Like a complete and absolute ass.

Oh and your pad had tumbled off the marbled edge and cluttered upon the tiles of the Jedi’s balcony.

But it was alright with the coppery-haired piece of shit, apparently. He was profusely apologising and bounding up with his magical force powers to stand upon the narrow ledge on the other side of the stone balustrade.

“Are you alright?” He tilted his head in confusion, padawan braid swinging against his chest. You felt your mouth open and close, but you doubted anything escaped. “It appears your pad has smashed itself into smithereens.”

“I-I,”

“You can speak Basic, can’t you? If not, I can translate into-” He offered very quickly,

“No, of course I can speak Basic, I was just…” Gingerly, you prised yourself off the floor, dusting down rumpled skirts and staring at the odd Jedi. “You’re a wonderful singer,” you blurted.

“Well thank you,” He replied, a little flustered, a hand moving to fiddle with his cute little nerf tail.

Cute. Cute? Kriff, you’d only been talking to the boy for the last thirty seconds. Surely this was a new record.

“I didn’t know Jedi sang,” You rambled on and you simply knew that heat would be pooling up in your face for the boy to see-

Oh no, it was fine, he was turning a rather charming shade of pink too. It only seemed to get worse, didn’t it? Oh of course, of course he was cursed with dimples. You really should have just cut your losses and fled.

He laughed, swinging a leg over your balustrade and sitting upon it. “Oh we sing sometimes, my master says it drives him up the walls. But I am sorry, I’ve been terribly impolite. I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padawan learner.” He held out a hand and you took it, shaking it as well as you could given your dazed circumstances. You were pretty sure, however, that you at least managed to give him your name.

“Well, Y/N, however can I make this up to you?” He gestured to the mangled, metallic remains below. “It is more or less my fault and-”

He still had not let go of your hand, and despite all common sense, you found no reason to let go. How could you? Obi-Wan (you had the sneaking suspicion it would roll off your tongue) continued rambling and you merely stepped away, your hand fighting to remain in his until you were too far, finger tips brushing against a calloused palm.

“Wait here,” You said, placating the concerned look that had passed before his face. Your feet traced the path through your room, eyes frantically scanning for the sight of warm Kashyyk wood before hefting it into your hands and quickly returning to the waiting Jedi. You noticed with some amusement that he’d balled his hands into the sleeves of his robes. “That pad was old anyway,”

He raised a sceptical brow, “Your face certainly said otherwise,”

“It doesn’t really matter. I’d read that story enough times to recite it in my sleep.” Heart pounding in your chest you mustered the courage to sit beside him, transferring the guitar to his awaiting arms. “Do you play?”

“A little. It was an elective.” He responded, “I’m sure it’s nowhere near as good as you,”

“Flatterer.” You briefly met his gaze, transfixed by their colour. Like a lake mirroring a cloudless sky. And you knew that you were lost. “Well, I’ve been starved for someone else to play with.”

“Have you now?” His teasing was going to be the death of you.

“Yes, now go and be all chivalrous and play something wonderful.”

“Any particular requests?” He asked, focused upon adjusting his hands upon the frets, fingers outlining the ghosts of chords. “Well?” He found your eyes once again, the answer slipping from your tongue faster than you could have ever expected.

It didn’t matter in that moment that a bemused Jedi Knight sat a floor below, basking in the comfort of the living force and the gentle sound of singing above him. It didn’t matter that he should really be bundling that boy off into their ship and off to debrief a council that would be mildly irritated at his choice to delay their return by a day or two.

All you knew- all you were consumed by- was the feeling of your fingers sliding their way along metal strings to familiar positions, passing a well-loved instrument back and forth and exchanging laughs as you missed notes. And if your hands lingered for too long upon his as you performed yet another exchange, you didn’t care.

No, all that mattered in the universe right now was the sound of your voices carrying the half-remembered tune of a song you both loved. And perhaps, just perhaps, this was that shaft of illumination you had hoped for.

#obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan imagine #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #prequel trilogy #ewan mcgregor

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kashimos-hajime · 5 years

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home | l.l.

Summary: “Come home to me, my love. Please, bring him home.” You’re a youthful little creature, but anyone who knows that life’s most vibrant gifts are the ones most dangerous, knows to stay away.

WARNINGS: ANGST, but happy ending, blood, death, sacrificial rituals, mentions of suicide bc loki :( Pairing: pre-Thor to postTDW!Loki x sorceress!Reader Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Okay, so months ago, I entered a certain writing challenge, and forgot about it. Layla was kind enough to tell me to take my time, and now I have it completed! My prompt was: “Excuse my tantrum, can’t you see I’ve got my hands full.”

@wxntersoldiers, enjoy bb!! You deserve it :)

They've hidden you away on this war-hungry realm, where the blades are sharp and the shields are sharper. Shoved books and herbs and tutors every which way they think you will intercept them, so that they can mold you into a lady worthy of Asgard’s standards. Placed your blades out of reach, because Vanaheim is the peace to Asgard’s war. The country to Asgard’s city. Farmers to their rich.

They call you simple. You are your father’s daughter, after all, and he was merely a farmer before he was a king.

So, yes, you are the farmer’s daughter, who just happened to be lucky to marry the Prince of Asgard. The simple girl who is well-spoken, and polite, and trusting without a fault. The pretty, simple girl from a peaceful realm who doesn’t understand that their Prince will never love an idiot like you.

What you know as the truth is all that matters.

Your father is Freyr of Two Kingdoms. Of Vanaheim and Alfheim and you are to lead both. Your father reads aloud strategy instead of bedtime stories, and you paint with a sword instead of a brush. You grow up a battle-hardened warrior who has not yet lost a battle, and your father’s father sends his blessings to you. He tells you the ocean sings in your veins and the winds rest in your heart. He tells you that you are the tsunami’s rage and the torrential rains of fall.

But all the courtiers call you is farmer’s girl. Little peach.

A farmer’s girl who wields a scythe like a second arm, who’ll cut someone in two if it means it’ll make your father proud. A sweet little thing who has knives hidden in a smile. A fountain of limitless potential without a leash, a witch, if anyone’s ever seen one, without a master.

Your father’s sister amends that immediately.

She bleeds you over the fire, and teaches you things your father does not dare to speak of. Sorcery, and spells, and little tiny tricks that’ll tip the balance to your side. Black magic, they call it. You say it’s making use of what you are born with.

Little peach. Dark princess.

A little peach who is her mother’s daughter, shimmering and beautiful.

You’re a youthful little creature, but anyone who knows that life’s most vibrant gifts are the ones most dangerous, knows to stay away.

It’s a shame, you realize, that an arranged marriage was made.

You’re quite sure that if you’d met Loki in any other circumstance, you’d love him and he’d love you. He’s quiet and polite, and not hard on the eyes at all. In fact, you’re quite sure he’s attracted to you, too. After all, there are worse brides in the nine realms.

But, then he listens to what the court says, and you keep up the pretense that you’re nothing but the clouds in your head. Not that it’s hard. You simply don’t fight it, and let the people do the rest. You have no interest in defending yourself against opinions that don’t matter. You only care about one.

Your mother’s whispers tell you to paste that smile on your face. It’s not worth the trouble to fight what they think of you.

Your father’s glare demands you to show them who you are. You are my heir, and you will earn their respect.

Your lady aunt Freyja takes no side, but you can imagine her voice perfectly. My autumn child, you know what men do for a woman’s love.

You smile and open up a book as your betrothed enters the library. His eyes rake over you for a moment as you let out a soft hum, face turned away. The sun shines through the window, illuminating the dust that flickers through the air and you flip a page deliberately to catch his attention again.

“What are you reading?” he asks two shelves over.

“Some odd book about seiðr,” you respond and your gaze rises to see him pausing. He grabs the book he has floating somewhere between him and the shelf, and turns around, meeting your eyes. He searches for something deeper. You drop your eyes back to the book you’ve read countless times before.

He sits down on the opposite end of the window sill bench and you tuck your knees to your chest. You hold the book open, and his eyes flicker across your face, drinking you in.

“Interesting?” he inquires. You send him a smile.

“Enough.”

No more words are said. He simply cracks open his book and you return to yours. You cannot help the smile that spreads across your face.

Many things, Aunt Freyja. People do many, many things for love.

That is your little hideaway, the library. Only Loki knows when to find you and where — that spot on the window sill bench, after dinner and before breakfast — and he comes to join you often.

Mostly, he asks questions. You smile and answer all of them willingly. You’ve let him come to you, and now you have him in your grasp, and you in his. The moment he finds out you also know how to use magic, know how to do things that not many on this war-hungry realm can, you feel something in your chest lurch at the very sight of him. Perhaps it’s the way his eyes spark when he reads something new, or the gentle way in which he smiles at you.

No matter. You enjoy the games you play together.

You watch the way the sunlight hits the smooth apples of his cheeks and brow bones as you play with the magic at your fingertips. The two of you play a game where you must get pieces through hoops the other positions. It can be as outrageous as one’d like, but in the lazy setting sun and the fullness of supper, neither of you go farther than the distance between the two.

He holds a hoop between the two of you and your lips twist as you telekinetically toss a piece through it. It lands in his lap and you smirk victoriously.

“Now, I get a question,” you announce. Loki leans back against the wall, a satisfied smile upon his face. “Lemon tarts or berry tarts?”

“You know I don’t like sweet things,” Loki deadpans and you smile, tucking your knees to your chest. You flick your fingers and retrieve the piece still in his lap as his own wooden blocks float around his fingers. “Lemon tarts.”

Taking your own hoop and holding it up above your head with a wave of your fingers, you feel the warm gush of power flow down your fingers. The wooden hoop shimmers with blue magic as you look up, making the final adjustments to its position.

“I’m ready,” you announce and Loki picks up a piece with his fingers. It soars through the air with a flick of his fingers and through the hoop, and he catches it before it can drop on your head. He smiles with a little ‘ahah’ and holds the little wooden piece in his fist as you lower the hoop onto your finger with an amused smile.

It seems only in the sanctuary that is the library does Loki smile like he does. You’ve been here quite a while to know that he’s not the favourite son. The Allfather tries his best not to make it so painstakingly obvious, but you can see it plain as day.

He wears his smile in the court like a courtesy. Whilst you float around, a butterfly searching for nectar, he is the crow perched on leaves, wondering when he can return home to his murder — his flock. You’ve tried to draw that smile you know lurks within him out, but fail every time.

Here though, he blooms like the sweetest flower and you reach over to skim your fingertips over his knuckles. His eyes flicker down before meeting yours.

“Why do you act like that in court?” he asks softly, and you tilt your head.

“Like what?”

“You know what I mean, my lady.”

“I know what they think of me,” you say with a cunning smile. “You can’t make people change their minds, and an advantage can only be used once. But why should I care about silly little opinions when only one truly matters?” Your magic dances across your fingertips and over Loki’s hand as he slowly turns it over to grasp your palm. His fingers slide over your wrist, feeling your pulse that beats in your ears.

“And whose opinion is that?” he asks, tone bemused. You roll your eyes, draw back, and gesture to one of the hoops he has floating around his head.

“One question per point,” you remind him, drawing your hand away. Pink stains his cheeks and you send him another sly smile. “Come on. A few more rounds before bed.”

“Bed?” he repeats with a glint of mischief. You fling a block at his nose which he deflects easily, and his smirk causes your lips to press into a flustered smile. “Too early for bed, isn’t it, my lady?”

“The night is still young.”

“Ah, you know that wasn’t what I meant.”

“If you’re so eager, a request could be made to my father to move the wedding up a fortnight,” you chuckle. With the wedding only a month away, everything is falling into place. The few things you have left to deal with is the final fittings for the dress, and the final draft of the menu.

“I’ll resist the temptation, little witch. The wait will make it sweeter.”

Your heart beats a little faster. By his little self-satisfied smirk, you know he knows, and you curse Loki for being able to turn the tides of your little battle against you.

The day of the wedding is scheduled for the first day of autumn, and gentle wind kisses your cheeks as you walk through the gardens. A spiral of orange and yellow, red and brown, follow your steps as your father walks you through one last time.

“You’ll return home, then? Once the wedding is over?” you ask softly. The sparrows chirp overhead, flitting from one branch to another. You smile at the sweet songs, leaning against your battle-worn father. He wears a handsome grey pelt around his shoulders, his cape dragging behind on the cobblestone road as you tilt your head to the grey-blue sky.

“Yes. Once I’m sure you’ve settled in, and you’re comfortable here.” Autumn blossoms sprinkle the pathway as you ascend the steps to the Great Hall and you turn to your father with a smile reserved only for him.

“I am happy here. If they’d let me bring out my sword once in a while, then it’ll be perfect.”

He nods, cupping your face and tilting your chin up towards him. His dark eyes flicker over your face, thumb stroking your jaw and you smile bittersweetly. You know what he sees — his little girl.

“Thank you, Father.”

And at last, he smiles. It vanishes a second later, but the love that swells in your chest does not as he sends the guards a nod.

The doors open, and you are presented to the people who are to be yours.

Loki wears his ceremonial armor, golden horns glinting in the morning sunlight that streams through the open ceiling. Rich green spills from his shoulders, his cape pooling around his leather boots as he turns to look at you. A reverent silence hangs in the air, filled by the soft lull of harps and choir voices, and you lower your eyes to avoid the evident smile that’ll occupy your face as soon as you see him.

When you reach the altar, you turn to gather up your dress that tumbles on for miles to see attendants already holding onto it, adjusting it so it flows prettily down the golden stairs. Your father watches with a hard stare, making sure you look as beautiful as you can be and you place your hands on your father’s shoulders.

“Thank you, Papa. For everything.”

He nods once, and then takes hold of your hands with his rough ones. His thumbs brush over your knuckles as he turns to Loki, who holds out his own hands.

You look at the man who is to be your husband in mere moments, and he hides a smile beneath that helmet of his. Your father places your hands in Loki’s, giving you away, before descending down the steps and standing next to your Aunt Freyja who hides a clever smile behind her hands.

Marital bliss lasts for centuries. The both of you are in no rush for children, still young and eager to learn about the world and each other.

“If it comes, then we let it come,” Loki whispers into your neck one night before bed. You press your whole body against his, wrapping him in a tight hug as his arm drapes over your waist. He kisses your jaw and brushes hair away from your face, eyes dark in the shadows of your shared rooms. “But in the meantime, I’d like to get in a lot of practice.”

“Practice, hm?” Your face is flush against his chest, and you press soft, tiny kisses against the bare skin you find there, fingers tracing shapes along his back. He sighs, his hand trailing up and down your side as he takes you in. Your eyes peer up at him modestly, and you reach up to touch his face. You feel his smile warm against your palm, and you wonder how it is that you’ve fallen in love with the man when he’s the one who is supposed under your spell.

You suppose it isn’t hard to wonder why.

“Oh, yes. Lots and lots of practice.” His nose wrinkles against your cheek and your laughter is silenced by his kisses as you wrap your arms around his neck. The sheets twist around your body as you slide a leg between his. The burn of his skin spreads delightfully into your bones as you sigh, brushing fingers over his cheeks.

“I adore you, you know that?”

“Of course I do,” he whispers, and he seals that promise with a kiss.

Your first is a daughter, and the birth is difficult. You think it’s the stress — the whole ordeal has been a hellish year, and the fact that Thor has been banished such a short time ago.

Loki has been exiled to pace outside your room to let the midwives work as you let out a torrential scream. Outside, Asgard faces a storm, bullet rain that dents metal with every one of your pained shouts as wet wind carries the fate of your child to all corners of the realm. There is blood, so much blood that they have to change the towels beneath your waist twice.

And even then, it’s a struggle.

Frigga brings you sustenance — filling soup and water — as well as updates on your husband.

“He’s going positively mad,” your mother-by-law whispers and you let out a breathless laugh as another contraction rips through you. Something tears and you grip onto whatever is closest, clamping down with all your might. The midwives murmur amongst themselves but you cannot see through your tears to bother asking what’s wrong.

The labour continues on for another day and a half before you can rest. Frigga departs your bedside to go look and you raise your head blearily. You’re quite light-headed, and you wonder why there is such a silence. You can hear the gurgles of a child, the tiny little wails but otherwise, nothing.

“What’s wrong?” you croak, blinking. You need to see your baby. You gave your life and soul to this child and now they won’t even tell you what’s wrong. “Is it a boy, or a girl?” Nothing. “Answer me!”

“We… we don’t know, Princess.”

Your whole world shatters. You try to sit up but Frigga stops you as agony rips between your legs mercilessly. Groaning, you slide back down as she cups your face. Your blown eyes search hers, and you feel the tears coming before you can stop them. Hair sticks to the sweat on your skin as you let out a quivering breath, trying to stop yourself from sobbing.

“What’s wrong with my child?” you ask weakly, closing your eyes as tears burn hotter than the flames surrounding you. Frigga shushes you and you feel the shift of the bed as she turns to the midwives.

“You do not speak of this moment. You do so, and you will not wake up from your sleep. Leave.”

The door opens and closes. A soft bundle is pressed into your arms. Frigga stuffs pillows beneath your head and urges you to open your eyes.

“There’s a secret we’ve been hiding from Loki his whole life,” the Queen whispers as your eyes peel open. Tears blur your vision instantly but you blink them away. With a weak finger, you pull the towel away from your child’s face. “Something we should’ve told him long before he met you.”

“Boy or girl?” you ask quietly. The child turns in your arms, eyes squeezed shut and a closed fist hitting your finger softly.

“You have a sweet little daughter.”

Nodding to yourself, you feel your fingers go numb as you stare at your tiny little daughter. She’s so small, so gentle, and yet she already has such a climb in front of her. Your heart swells for your firstborn child, and you hold her to your forehead, breathing in her scent as you stroke her tiny chest.

You kiss her blue, marked cheek, and her tiny blue knuckles, play with her creamy little fingers and brush a knuckle down the unmarked side of her face. You watch as your half-blue daughter searches for food, and you swallow a hard knot. Bearing your breast, you let her feed and try not to cry once again.

“When will you tell him?” you ask. Frigga looks on with guilt, with shame. Your eyes stare frostily at her, and you wonder if this is why the Allfather favours Thor over him. “I won’t hide this from him.” The Queen has no answer, and a wave of nausea crashes over your head as you turn to look at your daughter. The birthing pains have faded, replaced by new, deeper cuts on your heart. “Please bring him in.”

When Loki meets his tiny little daughter, blue and cream, frost giant markings along her face and body, he confesses that he knows. Knows he’s a monster.

You tell him with every ounce of yourself that he is not even though you know he won’t believe you. So you tell him you love him instead, because he knows that that will never change.

“Thor! You’re back!” You rush to him, pulling him into your rooms as you admire your brother. His golden hair shines in the candlelight and he wears a fatigued smile as you go to pour him some tea.

“There’s no need for that,” he says with a wave and you send him a strange look. Something about him seems off. He’s no longer the jovial man you know, or perhaps, something has happened. Before you can entertain that thought, though, a shrill cry pierces the air and you go to the cradle beside your bed.

Your daughter squirms and wiggles, and you pick her up, shushing her quietly as you turn to look at Thor. He stares at your daughter for half a moment, and you smile sadly.

“They hid the secret from you, too,” you begin and he rips his gaze to you. “Sweet brother, Loki has been raised in a lie.”

And that is what makes the next bit of news so utterly horrible.

“Where is he, anyhow?” you ask. You gently rock your daughter in your arms, hoping that’ll soothe her to sleep but with a newborn, you’re only learning more and more everyday. Thor grimaces, fingers slotting together as if he’s trying to figure out the right words to say. You go to your balcony, looking at where the bridge has shattered. You arch an eyebrow, tilting your head and absently stroking your daughter’s cheek. “The Bifrost was glowing awfully bright before you returned.”

“Autumn sister,” he whispers, and his voice has grown thick. You turn to him, the wind tugging at the skirts around your ankles as he steps onto the balcony with you. The moon casts you both in silver, and you swallow.

“Bad news?” Your voice shakes and you try to pretend it’s from the cold that does not bother you, not the fear that seizes your heart and threatens to crush it into tiny pieces of dust. When Thor does not answer, you shake your head and whip around, holding your child to your face. Yours and Loki’s. Our daughter.

“I’m sorry—”

“No. No, please don’t tell me,” you whisper. Kissing her cheek, you hold the child close to you in hopes that it’ll fend off whatever words Thor will say. “Don’t tell me, please.”

“He let go of my hand,” Thor whispers and you close your eyes, breath rattling in your throat. “He let go, and he fell.”

“No. He wouldn’t.”

“He did.”

A myriad of emotions digs into your heart, splitting it with a chisel and hammer, carving it into something that resembles a broken heart. You wilt, sinking to your knees and holding your daughter close. The last pieces of Loki you have left.

“Was I not enough?” you ask to the winds. Thor drapes his cloak around your shoulders, gently touches your daughter’s cheek who meets her uncle for the first time, and shakes his head. “Was our daughter not enough?”

“It was never anything you did,” he whispers, hugging you tight. You close your eyes, and tears trace over onyx armor as he presses a tight kiss to your temple. “Some secrets never should have been secrets.”

“You’re sending Thor to Midgard, but not me?” You throw open the doors with a slam, storming into the throne room. Odin Allfather sits up in his chair, his conversation with his wife all but broken as you stop. Blue autumn winds follow after you, brushing against your skirts, your hands, curling around your fingers. “I’m his wife, if you don’t remember.”

“You have a daughter. I don’t want young Hela to lose two parents,” he replies, an easy response, a trained one. You sneer, hands curling into knuckle-white fists. Magic rushes to your fingertips, but before you can protest, he slams Gungnir into the floor. “My decision is final.”

Frigga’s, however, is not. With a promise to take care of your daughter, she sneaks you into the Observatory. Thor flies you in, and the two of you hold on tight to each other as Frigga waves farewell.

“I need to return before he thinks anything’s amiss,” the Queen Mother explains with a slight smile. “Bring him home.”

“We will,” the two of you promise.

When Odin’s dark magic powers the Observatory for the first time in centuries, he sends not one but two warriors down to Midgard.

“Loki?” you whisper, and he wilts under your stare. Something flickers in your eyes as you press your hands against the glass. He’s trapped in some sort of cage, and you paste on that smile of yours as he walks towards the thick walls.

He places his hands deliberately to cover yours, and you lean forward, your forehead touching his. The soft thunk tells you he does the same and you close your eyes. You can nearly feel the heat of him. Almost, not quite, maybe.

“What have they done to you?” you ask as your heart tries to touch his. It wrenches out of your chest, and you open your eyes to meet his, smokey blue, a gaze you don’t know. “Who did this to you?”

There is no answer. He merely backs away into the end of the glass container like you’d shocked him.

“I’ll kill them. I’ll kill whoever did this to you,” you promise. The glass begins to bend under your burning hands and the blue magic under your fingertips phases through the glass. The rest of you follows, and you are in the cell with him. He watches you like an injured dog, and your heart cracks as you open your arms.

“Stay back, wife,” he spits, but you don’t care. His poison has never touched you. You continue towards him.

“I’ll kill them all,” you repeat as the uncertainty in Loki’s eyes grows. “I promise you. I promise I will do whatever they’ve done to you to them tenfold. I will bring you home to our daughter.” You think of little Hela back home, and you smile. “She’s missed you. She’s your little girl.”

“She’s a monster,” he whispers harshly. You falter and your arms drop to your sides. “Don’t you see?”

“I’ve never cared much for monsters.” Blue mist spills into the air, tasting like cold starlight and warm spices as you reach out one hand to him. “And I know how to love one with everything I have.”

Tendrils of magic weave from your fingers out to Loki, who has half-turned away from you. It caresses his face and whispers over his jaws, taking hold and turning his cheek towards you. His eyes meet yours and you smile.

“Come home to me, Loki.”

He takes a step towards you and your heart swells in your chest. Your fingers strain for his cheek and your smile grows as he walks into your reach. Your hand cups his face, and you let out a relieved laugh. You absorb every inch of him, the sunken quality of his eyes, the hollowness in his cheeks. My husband.

Your arms wrap around his neck and suddenly, he’s embracing you back desperately. His arms clutch at the leather that binds your armor together and you kiss his neck softly.

“She looks so much like you,” you whisper, tracing shapes on the plane of his shoulder. “Come home to me.”

“I will. When the work is done, I will.”

“What?” Your head raises off the crook of his neck and shoulder, and you stare into his eyes. Swallowing, you open your mouth to speak but then he pushes you hard, blasting you through the glass and onto the metal floor. “Loki—”

“Trust me, wife,” he says with a sly smirk. In between the lines of his face, you can read him like any book in the library. “It won't take long.” Dusting yourself off, you nod and swallow the hard knot of fear in your throat.

Safe in his chains and muzzle, he presses his forehead against your cheek and in your mind you can hear one name.

Thanos.

The frost that crawls down your spine is not from the cold. You hold your husband tight against you as Thor twists the glass cylinder containing the Tesseract. Blue cosmic energy washes over you and you return home to your daughter, who cries when she sees her father.

You bring your daughter to his cell, sit on the lip of the stone and hold her up in your lap as he sits on the other side of the golden barrier. A tiny grin encompasses his face and makes him glow as Hela reaches forward.

“Hello, darling,” he whispers as you pull her back from the barrier. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Loki.” You sigh, fingers scratching the stone you sit upon as you wrap an arm around your daughter. “She took her first steps today.”

“Really? She’s a quick learner, then,” Loki praises and you smile sadly. You press your hand against the barrier despite the tingling electricity burning beneath your palm as a blue shockwave ripples over the gold.

“You should have been there to see it,” you whisper over your blistering skin and Loki’s eyes widen. Tears burn into your eyes as your burning hand curls into a fist. “Loki, I can’t do this. You should be here—”

“Hold fast, my love.”

“This is no way for us to live.”

He places a hand against the burning barrier, and you close your eyes the tears race down your face. Hela’s soft hand wipes them away unknowingly and you open your eyes to gaze at your daughter. You see so much of your husband in her that it makes everything ache.

“No one ever said this was fair.” You look up again to see his palm, black and white instead of cream. There is no wince or flinch at the blood that pours down his wrist and you glance down at your own hand. The burns have already begun to fade, but the ones on your heart will forever remain raw.

“I need your help,” Thor whispers, tugging you away from the harbour. You’re torn away from Frigga’s funeral jarringly, blinking as you collide with people although Thor makes a clear enough path as you reach a small archway in an alley of some street. You thrash your arm out of his grip, backing to the opposite end of the archway. He stands there, stung, but all you can muster is a glare. The candlelight illuminates half of his face, the other cast in shadow, and your fist clenches.

The fires heighten, burn blue.

“What do you want from me?”

“We need to end this threat. We need to find Malekith and destroy him before he comes for the Aether.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” You cross your arms, jaw stiff as you take another step back to his step forward.

“Promise me you’ll help me. I need you.”

“Why should I?” you snarl, poison biting at your words. “Have you ever gone to see your brother? He rots in a cell whilst you come bringing you little lady love to Asgard.” Thor’s mouth opens and you raise a hand to silence him. “Save it. I want to hear nothing from you.”

“I told you I wouldn’t help you.”

“You’re being childish.” Thor enters your rooms. You spin around from where you’re holding your daughter, mouth open in protest. “You act like some simple girl who doesn’t understand the consequences. If Malekith gets his hands on the Aether—”

“Excuse me if I’m having a bit of a tantrum. Can’t you see I’ve got my hands full?” you snap. You send a wicked glare at your brother-by-law who seems to wilt underneath your stare and you inhale sharply. “What do you want, Thor?”

“Convince him to help me.”

Your eyebrows furrow together, and you frown deeply. “Why should either of us help you?” you ask breathlessly and Thor looks away. “You imprison your brother who was tortured, manipulated—”

“You want revenge for Frigga?”

Your heart breaks into shatters at the mention of her, and your breath catches in your throat. “You know I do.”

“Then, what other reason do you have to help me?” Thor’s eyebrows raise in sympathy and he extends a hand to you. “Your daughter will be cared for, I promise you.” You kiss your daughter’s cheek, gaze into her red and blue eyes, before nodding.

“Fine.”

“Move!” You run away from Jane whom you’d been protecting and scream, blue magic flaring around your fingertips as you push Thor away. No, no, no. “Let me see him.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers painfully and you let out a horrified breath as he clutches as your sleeves. Blood spills over the soil as you bow your head, pressing your face against Loki’s. “I’m sorry, wife.”

“Loki, no. Hold on, sweetheart,” you tell him, placing a hand over the wound, fingers bending as you search for the source of blood. A poisoned blade, cursed with something dark. You can fix this — you can fix this if you have time—

Loki’s fingers let go of your sleeve, slip off your hands as the pale blue of his heritage overtakes every part of him.

“No. Loki, no!” You cup his face, but his head rolls away at the force and you let out an outraged scream. “No, no, no!” Slamming a fist against the dirt, pure cosmic energy flares between the cracks of the dirt as a pair of hands reach for your shoulders. With one hand holding Loki’s body towards you, you twist to slap Thor away. “Stay away from me!”

“We need to find him,” Thor whispers through a thick, tear-ridden voice. “Malekith is still out there.”

“You killed him! Why should I help you?” you scream, skirting towards your husband’s body, holding his head in your lap. You brush the hair away from his face and sniff through your blurring vision. Hot tears drop to the soil and onto Loki’s pale face as you bow your head. Agony rips your heart to shreds as it collapses in your chest, and you struggle to breathe through your clogged throat. You tear your gaze wretchedly to him.

“Y/N—”

“Go! Leave!” What little air you can breathe rattles between your teeth as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to cleanse the image of your husband from your mind as you run stiff fingers through his hair. “Leave me!”

“I’m sorry.” The words whisper at your ears, but you shake your head. Forcing your eyes open, you reach a hand to the wound. And here you thought you’d never need what you’ve been taught ever again.

Dragonsroot, heartsbane. You’ll need a warm fire, fresh, young blood.

For the first time in so long, Freyja’s voice sings in your mind and you press your lips together. The magic tendrils stitch Loki back together from within and you use your other hand to pull the poison from his blood as you pray to your father. You haven’t in so long, that you wonder if he’ll still hear you. Vile, black magic stains your blue and you toss it aside, letting it curl and sink into the dirt.

Take me home, Father. Grant me safe winds, Grandfather, and blessed waves. Bring me home.

There is movement under Loki’s eyes, so quick that you think you must have hallucinated it and you blink the tears from your eyes. “Loki?” you whisper, brushing your hands over his tear-stained cheeks.

“Is that any way to greet your father?”

Whipping around, you let out a breathless laugh upon seeing your father. How long has it been? Decades? Centuries? He looks older now than he did before, but no less strong. The mere image of him grants you strength and your heart mends momentarily with sticky sap and pure spite.

His flintstone eyes widen upon seeing his child on this foreign realm, holding onto the dead prince of Asgard and he walks to you, falling to his knees. Trying to hold back your tears, your throat blooms in pain as you throw your arms around him.

“Please, help me,” you sob, your forehead pressing against your father’s broad shoulder. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Little one,” he whispers, holding you tight, “we know someone who does.”

In a pyre built by you and you alone, Loki burns.

The smell of burnt leather and hair fills the air, no matter how many flowers and sweet fruits loiter in the clearing you do this in.

Your aunt’s instructions echo in your ears and you turn back to look at the castle over your shoulder where your daughter awaits. She’d been rescued by your father earlier that day whilst your aunt aided you in gathering what you need.

She stands on the edge of the clearing now, waiting, watching.

“This is your last chance,” Freyja calls softly and you shake your head. You need to do this, even if you aren’t sure it’ll work, even if it might kill you. Holding out a hand, you close your eyes and blow out a breath between your lips. The wooden handle of your knife is pressed firmly into your palm and you drag the silver tip over your fingers, not cutting the skin.

You toss a glance to your lady aunt, who nods and gathers the two bowls. In them, grinded heartsbane and chopped dragonsroot you’d prepared yourself. She walks to the back of the pyre, throwing them into the flames.

Immediately, it bursts white, flickers of other colours you’d never seen before burning into your eyes as you walk up the pyre. The wood trembles beneath your bare feet and the fire licks at your skin greedily as you close your eyes. As your skin begins to blister, you stuff down the mortal throes that make you want to scream until you bleed and walk deeper into the fire.

You can barely see through the white flames and you fall to your knees, blood clotting in your throat as you reach blindly for his body. He is yet untouched, covered in oils and blessings, and his skin is smooth and cold to your touch as you reaffirm your grip on the knife.

Say his name, then your wish. Give your blood, your sweat, your tears. Show them you are worthy. Spirits more powerful than us will decide.

“Loki,” you whisper and the flames twist and flicker. You trail your hand down his shoulder to his chest to the scar on his abdomen you’d tried your hardest to heal. “Come back to me, my love.” A rush of magic, threads of sorcery, run down your arms and flows down the knife, burning orange in the fire. “Come home.” Your teeth clench together and you peel open your eyes.

You are all ash and bones, black peeling skin, blood and tears, and what is left of your strength is visible in the magic that whispers over your skin. Bringing the knife to your stomach, you inhale flames and ash.

Please, bring him home.

And you sheathe the knife in your stomach, in the exact placement as the scar on Loki’s body. Blood rushes forward as you yank the knife out breathlessly. You drop the knife, and it slips between the wood of the pyre.

“It’s not his time,” you whisper through the blood rising in your throat. It bubbles between your lips, burning blue under your skin and you bow your head. Closing your eyes, you let the fire wash over your blackened body and lay down next to your husband. Your hands touch his cool skin, and you sigh blissfully. The air is thick, humid, and a wave of exhaustion hits you.

The simple princess, you think as you fall asleep. There is movement beside you, but you hold Loki closer, eyes shut against the bright white flames that purr against your skin. You think you can feel cold hands touch your waist where silk has burned away, and the fire begin to die. The only one that burns now is the one inside your heart.

Little peach.

Farmer’s girl.

Yes, that is all I am.

#fic: home #loki #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x yn #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x yn #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #laylas4kriot #my writing

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peterporkerpeter · 6 years

Text

Code Red P.VII [Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader]

SUMMARY: When the Avengers are given the mission to acquire a deadly weapon in the possession of a suspicious professor, Y/N must attend a gala in order to charm the professor’s quite dangerous son. Her date to the gala? None other than her crush: Peter Parker himself. That’s bound to make for an interesting evening

CONTAINS: mention of sexual harrassment (for like only a hot sec), blood, swearing, ANGST, FLUFF, peter parker crying oof

WC: 4.000

A/N: i’m so proud of this chapter, it is my favorite one yet and i really hope that you guys like this one. i was listening to some good tunes when i was writing and it got me really in the zone lol. this chapter is extra long bc i was feeling like a generous bitch so i hope yall like it. im literally screaming. hope you have a great day/night! :) Also, some people have mentioned that the tag list isn’t working for them! I’m so sorry about that, and if i’m being honest i have no idea how to fix it lol

| ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | EIGHT |

Y/N SLAMMED HER DOOR shut, violently throwing her heels onto the mattress. There were several things she needed to do, the first being to find a new, fresh pair of clothes to change into. Breathing heavily, Y/N shimmied out of her red dress, now stained with dark crimson splotches. She ferreted through her closet, ignoring the bursts of pain from her worn wrists.

She settled on a comfortable cream sweater and a pair of gray sweat pants, feeling better already. She rolled up the sleeves and headed for the bathroom, where she dunked her head down towards the sink, flipping on the faucet. It took a century and a half to get majority of the makeup off her face without irritating her fresh wounds too badly, the water turning a mixture of red, black, and brown.

Y/N patted her face dry, relieved that her skin could finally breathe. The cuts still stung like a bitch, but she couldn't care less. She was home in her room, clothed in something comfortable and no longer in imminent danger for the rest of the night. It was a breath of fresh air to her, not just her skin.

She tried not to think about the way she had treated her team earlier. She knew she was acting mean and impulsive, but the words kept spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them. She just couldn't bare standing in that living room after brushing close with death a handful of times. And her head—God, her head. It would not stop pounding, like someone was driving an ice pick straight into her skull.

The mere thought of Axel's face caused a tremor to spike in her heart. She glanced in the mirror, eyeing the injuries he'd given her as some sick present. The coldness in his eyes still left her afraid. She felt like an idiot, too. She knew something was off, but she still insisted with continuing with the mission regardless of her countering intuition. In some twisted way, she felt like part of it was her own fault. Maybe that's why she acted out—because she was ashamed.

She felt a chill run down her spine, Axel's ghosting touch still grazing along her leg, his hot breath nipping at her ear. It felt like he was on top of her, smothering he beneath him until she couldn't breath. She felt like she was drowning. She didn't want to think of what else a sadistic asshole like him was capable of. She just hoped her team would deal with him.

Warm tears poured down her cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands, wishing she could just stop thinking for a minute.

Y/N swallowed, shaking her head. She sniffled, then started to tend to her wounds.

THE TEAM ARRIVED HOME fourty-five later, completely drained and exhausted from the demanding evening. It didn't take long for Fury to send in a clean up crew and detain Axel. His father still remained in the wind, but there was no knowing if he was going to be charged for anything or not—at least not by S.H.I.E.L.D. considering the weapon was nowhere to be found. Peter had managed to create a pretty accurate cover story for the gem, not wanting Y/N to get punished for dealing with it on her own accord. He trusted that she knew what she was doing, and he would ask her about it later, just not when she was so vulnerable and upset.

Everyone was concerned for Y/N. She hadn't sent a message or any word at all regarding whether or not she was doing all right. Then again, they didn't really expect to hear from her. They knew she was in a quite sensitive state of mind, and they understood. They've all been where she is at some point in their lives. Pain was inevitable. Only time could tell when Y/N would finally realize that.

"Can we not come in tomorrow?" Clint grumbled rhetorically.

"Is Y/N asleep?" Wanda asked. "Someone needs to make sure she's patched up after the beating she took. And we need to make sure those wrists aren't infected."

"I got it," Peter muttered.

"The other guy looked worse," Natasha grinned sheepishly. "That broken coffee table in there? She slammed him down on top of it with her hands tied. She is a badass, and she'll get through this."

"She shouldn't have to," Tony murmured. His guilty conscience continued to give him a difficult time throughout the night. He knew he wouldn't sleep tonight—not with where his thoughts were. Not with the image of her wrists rubbed raw and bleeding engraved in his mind like a tattoo.

Tony turned towards Peter, whose eyes were beginning to droop. The poor kid looked utterly broken down, but he pushed through. All he wanted to do was see Y/N. The older man clasped a hand on his trainee's shoulder. "You did good today, kiddo. Honestly, the teens saved the whole day with this one. You both kicked some major ass. Props to you."

Peter shrugged, fingers tightening around the bag of Chick-Fil-A absentmindedly dangling from his grip. "Doesn't matter. Thanks, but . . . it doesn't matter. I-I don't know why she was so upset with you guys, if anything when I got there she just seemed sad—"

"And that's a normal response to a traumatizing situation," Natasha shook her head. "It's expected to lash out, especially out of shame or embarrassment. And she's still just a kid, Peter. She didn't have her powers, just what she knew from what we taught her. She was scared."

"She will come around tomorrow," Steve added. "Let her rest. Let her eat. It's best to leave her be. Someone will go in and check out her—"

"I can," Peter interjected. "She'll talk to me."

The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to reveal the living room of the main floor. The kitchen was untouched, the cold granite countertops wiped clean the precise way they were before the team dispatched. Darkness embodied the room, silence enveloping the homey premises. Peter noticed the familiar outline of a girl standing outside on the balcony, her elbows resting upon the cement wall, eyes looking out amongst the humming city illuminated below.

"There she is," Wanda smiled fondly.

Peter's eyes softened, sparkling faintly in the darkness. A familiar warmth ignited within his chest, his lips parting slightly, curving up to form the faintest smile. It was soft like stardust. He was awestricken and intrigued and nervous. He noticed she was wearing a casual sweater and sweatpants, and she looked just as beautiful as she did earlier in her long, silk gown.

Y/N was nonchalantly manipulating a glowing line of orange tinted energy, watching cathartically as the color twisted to follow the smooth, fluid movements of her fingertips. She seemed at ease for the first time this evening since her and Peter shared their dance; he would give anything just to have her that close to him again.

He could still vaguely feel her lips pressed against his. He remembered the warmth that had curled around him like a cozy blanket afterward. The brokenness in her eyes when he last saw her hurt him more than he anticipated it would. He never wanted to see her like that again—bleeding, crying, fighting for her life. Never. He would do anything to protect her, even if that meant his own demise in the process.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, exhausted eyes falling upon the crowd of people pouring in from the elevator. Her team looked entirely worn out from the intense mission, their bodies hunched and feet dragging wherever they wandered. Clint caught her gaze, the smallest of smiles creeping onto his face. He raised his hand into the air, offering the girl a wave. Y/N waved back with pursed lips and glittering eyes, then turned back around to face the open.

It was always a miraculous sight—the city. In the morning it was buzzing with light and intensity. Sunlight bored down on the cracked streets, cars lulling through frustrating traffic, people honking at their neighbors. The hues were of red and gray variety, shades of beige and powder blue adorning the graffitied walls and painted freight trains. Time was consistent during the day. It was never ending. It went on forever, and so did the people living within it. They got up at the same time every morning and hustled to work, took their lunch break at the bodega or crammed in their office, then went home and repeated the same damn routine all over again the very next day.

And then there was the nighttime, when blackness ascended over the city, and the tangerine sun slipped beneath the horizon. At night the city came alive. It was unpredictable and adventurous. You never knew what the city would do when the lights went out in the sky. Overbearing neon shades illuminated the large, glowing signs of theaters and cinemas, hotels and twenty-four hour diners. The streets were clearer, still littered with cars full of tired adults, hoping to get home to their beds for a few hours of sleep before they had to awake early the following morning.

Y/N could see herself in the city at nighttime, waltzing into unprecedented territories with nothing but a high adrenaline and a desire to see beyond vibrancy of its core.

But it was the transition from day to night that really got her—the part of the day when the stars were hardly out and the sun still managed to remain a glowing orb of glistening orange light in the sky. The stars were distant, like they were gently dusted across a canvas of baby blue, powdered on by a paintbrush like a Monet. There was so much going on in this hour, but the transition made so much sense to her. The more she watched and scrutinized the switch, the more she understood how much night and day were alike. As quickly as time moved during this period, it slowed. Time stopped here. Right on the skyline, the moment always stretching out to form a thousand more.

"Hey," Peter's voice broke her from the impenetrable wall of thoughts towering in her head. "I uh, I brought you food."

Y/N turned to face her friend, ignited eyes falling onto the bag of Chick-Fil-A dangling by his leg. A soft chuckle emitted from her scratchy throat.

"Thanks," the girl whispered. She grabbed the bag from his hands and set it on the nearby table. "How's the team?"

"Worried about you," Peter replied honestly. "And I am too."

"I'm just trying to not think about it at the moment. I've been trying to clear my mind," Y/N sighed. "I kicked that guy's ass, didn't I? Stupid Axel fucking Klein. Lucky you came when you did. I would've managed to kill him someway."

Peter shook his head. "No, you wouldn't have."

She cocked her head, furrowing her brows. "Yeah, you're right, I wouldn't have. But I wish I could. I wish I could kill him." A pause followed. The tension between them was thick—thicker than it ever had been before. She could taste it on her tongue. "So, what? The team send you out here because they know I'm a softy for you?"

Peter shrugged. "I-I volunteered. Tony bought the food, but I . . . I wanted to see you. I needed to."

Y/N stared into his eyes for a moment. They were soft and gentle, glistening like fragments of crystals. He somehow reminded her of the soft strum of an acoustic guitar. She found herself reaching forward for him, wanting to touch him during a circumstance that wasn't as vile and as graphic as the last. She wanted to touch him when she wasn't just about to immerse herself into a dangerous mission. She wanted to touch him when they were alone together with the unpredictable, haphazard rosy aura of the city during night.

"Peter," she whispered. She loved his name so much. She loved saying it. She loved hearing it. She loved hearing Peter.

Her hand caressed his jaw, the pad of her thumb gently grazing across the irritated cut on his cheekbone like the leaf of a swaying plant. She heard him release a shallow breath, his eyes flickering between the fragile placement of her hand and the bandages looped tightly around her damaged wrists.

"I thought I was going to die tonight," Y/N drew her hand away, feeling colder. Peter felt the same way. Peter always felt the same way. "I thought I was going to die in the hands of that . . . psychopath. You should've see the look on his face when he caught me in the car with his hands all over me. He looked so smug, so—"

"His hands were what?" Peter interrupted, anger flaring in his stomach. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, red pooling in his eyes. He hated the guy. He hated him with every fiber in his body, and he wished he'd done a lot more to him than punch him a mere few times. No, he should've throttled him. He should've made him suffer longer, just the same way he did to Y/N. He should've—

"Peter," Y/N could sense his rage. She reached out to touch his hand, hoping to soothe the whirlwind of impulsive thoughts plaguing his mind. "He didn't do anything else. Not anything like you're thinking. He just had to get close so he could sedate me."

"I'm sorry. I-I wish I could've done more, Y/N, I—"

Peter's heart was racing. It was driving him insane, he had to tell her that he loved her. He couldn't wait any longer. He couldn't keep holding off for the right time—there was never a right time in the world to tell someone that you loved them, at least not in his world. In his world, death followed like a shadow with every risky move you made. In his world, witches were real and there was a living, breathing one standing right in front of him. There was never a right time for anything when he was Spider-Man, and there was never a right time for anything when he was Peter Parker because time always seemed to fade more quickly than it came.

Was now a right time to tell her? On the balcony of a tower overlooking the prospering, stagnant city below, right after her run in with death at the hands of some lunatic? He didn't want to take advantage of her, and he didn't want to scare her away. He would have to wait another day. He'd have to wait for the sun come up, then go back down again. Another day, another time, until finally it was the right time. Until finally he no longer had to wait.

"Peter, what are you thinking?" Y/N questioned.

"I-I—" the words were fading from his tongue. It was never the right time. "I don't . . . know."

Y/N tilted her head, perplexed by Peter's odd behavior. It wasn't like the boy didn't normally act odd, but now he was acting strange. He wasn't looking at her like a crippled, wounded animal or a damsel in distress desperate for a strong rescuer. He was just looking. His eyes were glazing over, but she didn't know with what. Was he sad? Angry? Frustrated with her? Tears leaked from his melancholy brown irises, slipping down his flushed cheeks. They glimmered like scattered fragments of moonlights.

"Peter, what's wrong?" she asked, her tone urgent and thick with worry. Her hands quickly moved to grab his arms, grounding him, letting him know she was there with him—as she would always be.

She waited patiently for him to respond, his sniffles filling the air. Peter didn't know why he was crying; he felt like complete idiot for doing so, but he just couldn't stop himself. The tears kept falling, streaming down his skin until they dropped from the bottom of his chin onto the ground. All he had to do was just feel her touching him, and suddenly he was an emotional kid. He wasn't Spider-Man or an Avenger. He was just Peter Parker. And Peter Parker had lost so much that the mere thought of losing someone else so important to him—he couldn't bare it. Not on top of the countless years of repressed pain and emotional baggage still anchored deep within his roots. Then to come too close to losing Y/N tonight . . . It was all too much to handle.

"Hey, Pete. You're okay. We're okay," Y/N's voice was soft like silk. Her hands ran soothingly up and down the length of his arms, almost as if she was warming him up after a long snowy day. "Talk to me, Pete."

"I-I just—I almost lost you tonight," he professed, and the words began to tumble out at the same rate as his tears. "And when I saw you in there, I just couldn't stop thinking . . . about what I would do if you . . . I just couldn't stop thinking. And-and thinking and thinking. And then I knew right then and there that I would never let myself lose you ever because I need you, Y/N. I need you more than anything."

Y/N's face melted, her eyes shimmering at his trembling words. They fell so seamlessly from his lips. Her stomach churned, empathy burning bright within her core. She felt the same way. She felt the same way about Peter Parker as he did her, and she felt the same way yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. She always felt the same way. She always would.

"I need you too, Peter," Y/N assured him strongly.

She grabbed his face, pulling him down so she could press her lips firmly against his damp cheeks. She peppered them along his skin, electrifying him with every touch, anchoring him further and further towards the ground, onto the winding road leading towards the glamorous city buoyant with tranquil life. She held him tight, and she would never let him go. Not now, not ever.

"No, Y/N! You don't get it!" he sobbed, pulling away. "You don't understand why I need you!"

"Then just tell me! Peter, tell me. Why do you need me?" Y/N cried.

"I-I'm in love with you," he proclaimed, standing in a pool of his tears. "I'm in love with you, and I almost couldn't save you."

Y/N was rendered utterly and profoundly speechless by Peter Parker.

The nighttime is unpredictable.

"W-what happens when I can't save you anymore?" he whispered, like if he spoke those words they would magically come true. Almost like a spell.

Her forehead wrinkled, desperation contorted onto her features. She didn't really care about what the city would feel like during the nighttime anymore, not when the transition of day to night was still fresh in her bones. Not when Peter Parker was telling her he was in love with her. He wasn't infatuated. He was in love. And that felt like time wrapped up in a perfect little bow.

Y/N placed her palm against his chest, feeling the rapid pace of his beating heart. She ran her hand up the back of his neck, Peter's eyes shining with her every liquid-like movement. He let his lids drop, wet lashes gluing together. She closed her eyes, gently pushing his neck down for his lips to meet hers. Time stops here. Her lips ghosted over his, her breaths quick and hot. Falling in love with Peter felt so painless, but suddenly she felt like she was on fire. Everything felt too real, too raw. Love seemed to operate quite frequently in the gray area of life.

"But you did. You can't think about the 'what-if's, Peter. There's always going to be 'what-if's." She whispered against his mouth.

Y/N closed the gap between their lips, the kiss soft and slow, her breath hitching dead in her throat. She couldn't grasp a hold on any of her thoughts as Peter gently reciprocated the kiss. She no longer felt any pain. She should've told Peter she loved him long before tonight. She should've told him she loved him before they left for the mission. She should've, but it just didn't feel like the right time. When did it ever feel like the right time? Time was more unpredictable than the city.

The kiss grew deeper, Peter's hand trailing up her body to hold her face delicately his calloused palm. He could feel her hands shaking like leaves on the back of his neck, her pants growing hasty as their lips entwined and tangled together. He could taste her so clearly now—something minty and reminiscent of cherries. It soon became his favorite flavor.

She pulled away, eyes still closed. She savored the moment for all of its worth. "Peter . . ." swift drawls of breath, "I love you too."

Relief and happiness fell from his lips in the form of unearthly laughter. A smile brighter than any sun or any hue covered both their faces before their lips collided once again. Peter's hands gently stroked down the length of her hair, taming the frizzy strands and smoothening the tousled pieces. Fits of laughter were muffled by the showering of intimate, fervent kisses. Peter basked blissfully in her ethereal beauty and slipped into a state of tranquility, knowing for certain that he did save Y/N, and she was here in front of him. Now. And it was the right time. He dropped his hands to her waist, allowing her to caress his angular jaw, her thumbs pressing affectionately into his cheekbones. The tears once wet on his face dried beneath the gasps of hot breath, and everything in the world seemed to succumb to the tenderness of their love for each other.

And even the city, as rambunctious as it was during the day, and as somberly alive as it was in the dead of night, seemed to sink into the earth, leaving time behind. Because when there was no time, there was no need to wait for the right moment. Not when the right moment could be every single one in a thousand.

Clint found himself walking across the living room at such a prime time. Somehow, he was always the one to walk in on Peter and Y/N, but this time, he did not interfere. He merely looked for a moment with a smile tugging at his lips, then proceeded towards the kitchen to fix himself a cup of coffee.

Tony soon joined him, hoping to find some leftover pizza crammed in the refrigerator. After all, he was going to be up all night—might as well not work on an empty stomach.

At first, he walked straight past the window, eyes casually glazing over the two figures passionately kissing on the balcony behind the sliding glass doors. As soon as the man hit the fridge, he had to backtrack, mentally rewinding what he actually saw. He relapsed his steps, Clint nonchalantly sipping on his mug, checking to see if the sugar-cream ratio sufficed.

"What?" That was the only word Tony could seem to coherently speak for the moment. He tilted his head to the side, pinching his eyes shut before reopening them again. Definitely not dreaming. "A-are they—?"

"Yep," Clint replied, pleased with his hot drink. He walked around the counter to join Tony staring at the balcony from the island.

"On the—?"

"Yep."

"Should I—?"

"Nope."

"Gross."

MASTERLIST.

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volturiwolf · 3 years

Text

The Volturi Princess - A Felix Volturi x fem!Reader Story (part 3)

No of Words: about 5313

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part 1 part 2

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"The Volturi Princess " Tag List (reply if you want to be tagged or removed):

@felixvolturisprincess @singerj2002 @mrtony-stank1 @ikissedthescarsonherskin @alecvolturiswifeforever @hshehdyhd

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Felix’s POV:

We have been traveling for over a year now, Demetri tracking Carlisle and us following behind him. Demetri located him across the Atlantic, so we swam across the ocean to reach him. Almost a year and a half after leaving Volterra, we tracked Carlisle while he was working as a doctor somewhere in the northern United States. He was surprised to see us, but we kept our austere facade to maintain our sovereignty towards him. He welcomed us gladly in his small house.

It was a two-story building, and it smelled of old wood and mold, but I guess that was the best he could do for now. The living conditions around here did not seem to be ideal. Apart from the Volturi and the Egyptian coven, no other vampire lived comfortably, in castles, mansions, or even big houses; most vampires were nomads, traveling around and living by hunting whenever they could. So, Carlisle actually living in a house, even if it looked like this, was way better than living the nomad life.

“Jane, Alec, Demetri, Felix. To what do I owe this pleasure? Can I offer you anything?” Carlisle had always been one of the kindest of our kind, too compassionate for a vampire.

“No, Carlisle, thank you, we’re good. We are on a mission, and we have a few questions for you.” Jane took it up to herself to start the conversation.

“Please, sit down so we can talk.” Carlisle offered us to sit around the table that was in the middle of the ground floor. We each took a seat at the table. “So, may I ask what it is all about? I don’t think I have personally acted in a way to upset the Volturi.”

“No, indirectly, you haven’t.” Jane continued. “We wanted to ask you a few questions regarding (Y/N). We think that you may have heard by now that she has left Volterra.”

“Yes, word came around. I met a few nomads from Europe some time ago, and they told me that (Y/N) left Volterra, probably permanently.”

I tried to suppress a sob that was fighting to leave my throat. Carlisle knew that (Y/N) left, everyone knew that (Y/N) left. They didn’t know she left her mate behind, and they shall never find out that she was my mate. I didn’t even want to think about the possibility of (Y/N) being in danger if anyone found out that we were mates. I had too many targets on my back to risk anything happening to her.

It was my turn to intervene. “Have you seen her? Has she ever come around here?”

Carlisle turned to face me. “I did. Once. She stayed with me for about a year; that was about 6 or 7 years ago. She tracked me through her memories. She has become quite skilled at that.” Demetri and I looked at each other confused. (Y/N) could track as skillfully as Demetri now?

Carlisle continued. “Anyway, she seemed concerned. She told me she had been traveling for quite some time, but she felt like she was missing a piece of herself, of her past. For a few months, she wanted to learn more about me, my job, how I was doing with the whole “animal blood” diet, simple curiosity really. She had been training herself to abstain from human blood, so it was easier for her to go hunt with me. She told me..”

Carlisle turned to look at me now. “She told me about your bond, Felix.” So, she has felt our bond, too! “She told me that she was scared for you, for your safety within the Volturi. She was worried about all of you, but particularly you, Felix. Being her mate means you are basically a target for anyone who wishes to harm (Y/N). She told me she ran away to protect you. As long as no one knew of your bond, you were safe. The traveling and meeting the world was just an extra benefit for her and her gift.”

“Her gift?!” We all exclaimed in unison. (Y/N) never claimed a “gift”, so how could this be possible? Did she lie? Did she even know about her gift?

“Before you say anything, she didn’t even know what her gift was. It is way more complicated than you think. I guess she’d appreciate it if I gave you an idea about it.” Carlisle paused for a few moments. If my heart was beating, I swear it would have stopped by now.

“You know how, for example, Jane, you can induce mental pain, or you, Alec, can restrict anyone’s senses?” The Twins nodded at Carlisle. “Well, (Y/N) can do both, and so much more.” We were kind of shocked. No one has ever had a gift similar to the Twins; that’s why they were in the Volturi. Because they were unique.

“(Y/N)’s gift is copying others’ gifts. That’s why she could also track me; she had copied Demetri’s gift.” Carlisle pointed at Demetri, who looked utterly shocked now.

I would lie if I said I didn’t feel the same way or scared even. I was not scared because of (Y/N); I was scared for (Y/N). This newly-found discovery meant she would be way more important to Aro than we ever thought. He wouldn’t just let her go - not that this was his intention before, but now, she would be even more precious to him and his cause; she would now be the perfect weapon for him to use against other vampires. I had to find her and warn her.

“Do you know where she is now?” My voice came out more stern than I intended it to be.

Carlisle nodded his head slightly. “I may know where she is now. Before she left, she was trying to find out as much as she could about her parents. I assume that was the “missing piece” she was referring to? Anyway, she may be after her parents. I mean they do know her nature better than any of us does. Don’t forget that (Y/N) is half-witch. No one could ever teach her how to be one; only her father could be the one to do so. So, if I stand corrected, she is looking for them. And there’s only one place that (Y/N) has ever linked to her parents.”

“Greece.” Demetri stepped in. Demetri was the only one who could understand (Y/N)’s connection with Greece; it was their birthplace, their origin, their true home.

“Exactly. If you find her parents, you’ll most likely find her. Even if she’s not with them, it will be easier to track her if you have her parents’ assistance.”

We nodded and we stood up. “Thank you for your help, Carlisle. You were most helpful.” Jane spoke for all of us.

“It was my pleasure.” Carlisle led us to the door, but before we left, Jane turned to him one last time. “We think we can trust you that this conversation stays between us.”

“Of course, Jane. Have a safe trip and take care of yourselves.”

“You too.” Alec smiled at Carlisle.

What Carlisle said at the end had me worried for (Y/N). “I hope you find her soon. Her parents never had the best reputation around.” What kind of people was (Y/N)’s family anyway?

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Tracking (Y/N) proved to be way more complicated and debilitating than we thought it would be. We assumed that the closer we were to Greece, the easier it would be for Demetri to pick up her tenor. We were wrong; we were going around blindly, not a clue about (Y/N)’s whereabouts. Even when we finally set our feet on Greek ground, we still didn’t know where to start looking for her. Nobody had a clue where she could be; we didn’t even know her birthplace.

Demetri took it upon him to start his research in a place he knew well enough: Athens. Athens was the capital of Greece’s civilization for many centuries, but, at the time of Demetri’s birth, during the Byzantine times, Constantinople emerged as the center of the Eastern Byzantine Empire, while Rome remained the center of the Western Byzantine Empire.

Athens was not regarded as highly as it used to, during Pericles’ “Golden Century”, as the 5th century BC was known. It still was an important and historical city, but it has lost its title as the “capital” eons ago. The city was taken advantage of by both “allies” and Ottomans and seemed to have lost part of its previous glory. Still, it was beautiful; I may have been quite “old” myself, but I could still admire the history around me.

It reminded of (Y/N)’s stories and books; knowing Ancient Greek history was one of the first things she took an interest in. The fact that she was able to travel to Athens, with or without Aro, quite a few times also developed her fascination regarding the Ancient Greek arts, philosophy, and overall way of living. Of course, it wasn’t easy being a woman then, or ever really, but she was more financially privileged than the average Athenian - vampire wealth had always been an actual thing, and Aro always prided himself to be a “collector” of wealth (and talented vampires for the matter).

We arrived in Greece at a transitional stage; the country has been experiencing a war against the Ottomans for a few years now, and it was evident around the city of Athens. There were many casualties during the war, many damages around the streets, the houses, and there seemed to be a climate of misery and decline.

Yet, the country had recently elected a prime minister, who declared Nafplio, a city in Peloponnese, as Greece’s capital. That was our next stop, as we couldn’t find anything in particular that could indicate (Y/N) being in Athens. Apart from the poor living conditions, the country was experiencing a plague pandemic wave, which killed even more people, but authorities worked hard on containing the cases, and it seemed to have been working.

Still, without a single clue about (Y/N)’s location, the only thing we could do is go around searching for any possible information. We could only travel at night, and hide during the day; Greece, just like Italy, had always been blessed with sunny days, for the majority of a calendar year.

It wasn’t ideal with us being vampires, but Volterra was an ideal strategic location for the Volturi to travel across the vampire and human world, rule, and impose their laws whenever it was needed. Just like always, we now also had to be secretive about our existence.

I thought about how lucky (Y/N) was in that situation; being a non-fully vampire, she didn’t “glow” in the sun like us. She had a more healthy-skin-like glow, a healthy and subtle glow that made me even more attracted to her - if that was even possible. That basically meant that she could technically go anywhere and everywhere; the weather did not affect her, the sun did not affect her.

I started getting frustrated and disappointed. It wasn’t only (Y/N) I had in my mind; apparently, during the years of the Greek Revolution, many vampires, Greek or non-Greek, started secretly fighting to claim territories for themselves.

We knew that it wasn’t part of our duty, but it wouldn’t hurt if we could actually claim Greek land for the Volturi. Having both Italy and Greece under our control could mean more power, more resources, more blood. It only seemed natural; the three Volturi kings were born in Greece, all three of their wives were born in Greece, Demetri and Chelsea were born in Greece. (Y/N) was born in Greece.

Greece could easily become an extension of our territory - Italy was already ours in its entirety - and it would only be the start. It would be easier to control and deal with any possible riots from other covens - the Egyptians and the Romanians in particular. We didn’t fear either of them, but the Romanians have been holding resentment towards the Volturi for a couple thousand years, so anything could be expected from their side at any moment.

I shared my thoughts with the Twins and Demetri. They all agreed that it was a plausible plan; it would show others that the Volturi are still as powerful as they have ever been, and should be feared. Besides, we knew that just the four of us would be able to subjugate any vampire that crossed our paths. With the Twins’ powers, Demetri’s tracking skills, and my strength, it would be impossible for others to resist or challenge us.

We started interrogating any vampire we found wandering or hunting at night; none of them worthy enough to fight us or even gifted enough to join the Volturi. It was quite easy to find the leaders of these “newly-made” covens, or alliances, as they seemed. Because none of them inspired loyalty to each other; none of them was a coven in the sense the Volturi were. They were more like vampires who came together to fight for territory control; I doubt if they would even manage to stay together for one more day. They did not only lack loyalty towards their "leaders", but also discipline, principles, and basic rules of survival and solidarity towards the other members.

It was quite easy to take over any “coven” in Southern Greece, including the island of Crete. We started moving north, taking over the territories of Thessaly and Epirus, something which the Greek humans did not manage to acquire from the Ottomans yet. We were to take over Macedonia and Thrace next, but we were met with an unexpected obstacle.

Every vampire we would interrogate regarding these two territories would say the same thing: none of them knew who owned them, but whoever tried to claim the territories never returned back, dead or alive. The mystery that surrounded the person or people behind the leadership of these areas made their skin crawl; they all refused to “help” us any further, no matter how much Jane, Alec, and I tried, which made me kind of worried, or more like curious, but I didn’t want to show any weakness or let them question my effectiveness.

Every one of them was just a “normal” vampire; we were better, stronger, gifted, and we have proved that we can bring results every single time. No other vampire has ever dared go against us; we wouldn’t allow them to question us now either.

We continued traveling up north, determined to face whoever it was behind the territories there. I didn’t pay attention to the slight pain in my guts as we were traveling through the country, but it was becoming more and more intense as we continued going north.

We didn’t know how we would find the vampires behind this “operation”, so our plan would be to act in any way possible to provoke them into coming out of their “hiding spot”. For a few days, we were rummaging any small village we could find, killing the villagers and draining them of their blood - not a very “Volturi tactic" may I say. We were supposed to hide our existence, not challenge our luck by killing so many people; yet, this was the only way we thought that could possibly lurk the vampires out of their “comfort zone”.

As we were traveling through Macedonia, we came across a rather developed town, compared to the villages we have seen before. The city was surrounded by tall stone walls. There were a few rivers on its western side, forests and mountains on its northeastern side, and swamps and marshes on its southern side. We couldn’t hunt freely here, at least not during daylight; there was no way we would go unnoticed if we started hunting anywhere in the area. We decided to run through the forests, see if there was a place we could stay for a while; if there was a human or more we could feed off of; if there was a sign of the vampires or (Y/N).

During the last few weeks, I’ve been thinking that our mission has been more about expanding our power and influence, and not as much about locating (Y/N). Actually, it felt more like locating (Y/N) was more of an afterthought now. We lost the purpose of our mission; the reason we came together all along.

It wasn’t as if we would actually be directly benefiting by the territories we claimed; we were still working on behalf of the Volturi. We didn’t ask the kings to claim Greek territories; yet, we did, because we felt obliged to consider their own good once again, this time at the expense of finding (Y/N). Once again, we became the victims of the influence they had on us, and we played their game.

“Why are we even doing this?” I yelled frustratedly. My friends turned to look at me.

“What do you mean, Felix?” Jane seemed slightly annoyed. “We’ve come here to claim the territories, to show these savages who the boss is here.”

“No, Jane, they are not savages, we didn’t come here to claim territories, and we don’t have to show them “who is the boss”. They already know that the Volturi rule the vampire world. No. No. We came here to search for (Y/N). Not to “claim territories”. Not to “show them”. We came here for (Y/N). We..We lost our purpose. We lost the true meaning of our mission. We just started claiming the land for the Volturi, for Aro. We..We forgot about her.”

My eyes were stinking with venom. I felt weak, I felt as if I betrayed her. I promised to myself that I would bring her back home, that I would protect her. It’s been so long and we still haven’t found her. We just kept wasting time on things that shouldn’t matter to us. We should not care about expanding our influence, our territory, our power. We should care about bringing the Princess back.

Jane lowered her head apologetically. “I’m sorry, Felix. I didn’t know you felt this way. I have to admit it though; we did lose track of time and we forgot about the actual purpose of this mission. We once again forgot that (Y/N) has always been way more important than any power in the world. I’m sorry. We all are. I promised you we’ll start searching for her right away, okay?”

I nodded affirmatively. We had to find (Y/N) as soon as possible. We were not only running out of time but also out of hope that (Y/N) was in Greece or anywhere else, that she was alive. We got so distracted by our conversation that we didn’t notice we were being watched until we all started screaming in pain. I fell on my knees, the pain on the back of my head unbearable, and that’s when I blacked out.

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I didn’t know how much time passed being unconscious. It felt like a new sensation to me; being a bit over 2000 years old, I haven’t lost my senses once - except for the times Alec liked to play games on me. I didn’t feel like myself; it didn’t feel right. I didn’t like being restricted of my senses, especially now, especially here, in an unknown place. My mind was blurry and I couldn’t see anything distinct around me; I couldn’t see almost anything. I tried to move my hands around but I couldn’t as if the tightest rope in the world was holding me in place.

“No need to fight, sweetheart.” I heard a woman’s voice. “There is no way to escape.”

“Who are you? Why am I here? Where are the others?”

“Felix? Is that you?” I heard Demetri’s voice on my right.

“Demetri? Is that you? Where are Jane and Alec?”

“I am here.” I heard Alec’s voice on my left.

“Me too." Jane replied.

“Alexandre, please, I cannot start with this again.”

Suddenly, I could see again. I was still physically restricted, but my eyes could see them crystal clear and my mind was in order once again. The woman in front of me was very imposing, though of average size. Her long, curly hair framed her face beautifully and her piercing red eyes were piercing through my soul. The man standing next to her was only a few centimeters taller; he had short, straight hair, and his eyes were looking between the four of us sternly. Who were they even? Why were we even here? Why us? As if she read my mind, a woman spoke to me.

“Oh, deary. We’re not going to tell you who we are. But you are going to tell us what you, Volturi guards, are doing in our territory!”

“How do you know who we are?” I exclaimed. Of course, everyone knew the Volturi as the authority of the vampire world, but not all vampires around here have ever met us specifically, or any other member of the coven for the matter.

“Your crest, dear. I have known that crest for far too long. Way before you were even born. I see that dear Aro never changed it. He does like to remain in his same, old ways after all. Never changing, never moving forward, still imposing his “laws”, I’m assuming?” The woman seemed to know way far about the Volturi and Aro. She became a danger for our coven, from the moment she and the man abducted us. She should have never done that; they both would be punished for their actions.

“Dear, I won’t get punished..for anything. You, on the other hand, are in a pretty difficult situation. You see, my husband and I are not going to let you get away until you tell us why you are here.”

“Pain.” I heard Jane saying. The woman turned to look at her but she didn’t even flinch. I heard Jane screaming in return.

“Oh, sweetheart. Your powers won’t work on either of us. You see, I am a shield, so don’t even try to hurt us. On the contrary, WE can hurt you just as much, if not more.” The woman smiled evilly, while Jane was writhing in pain.

“Please, stop hurting my sister.” Alec pleaded, unable to use his gift against the couple.

“So, you are the “Terror Twins”. Alec and Jane, I see.” The woman knew their nickname? “Oh, yes, I do, dear.” She turned to look at me. “You see, I was once part of the Volturi. Technically, still am. However, I left, way before any of you joined the coven. To put it into perspective, I was there when Didyme lived but I left way before she was killed. Dear Marcus has never been the same ever since. I still feel somewhat of a connection to the coven, though I am able to make my own decisions because I managed to escape them. We were actually passing by Volterra a few times. I wonder how you never noticed us, though our powers would practically make us mentally invisible from Demetri, over here, or any other vampire, really.”

She knew Demetri, too?

“Felix, dear, I know all of you and about you. You see, my dear daughter has a special connection with all of you, a kind of friendship neither my husband, nor I quite understand. It wasn’t easy for her to keep her memories secret; though she is an amazing shield - which makes me so proud, she is kind of “vulnerable” when she is sleeping. And my husband’s magic is quite strong and easy to penetrate her mind and memories when she does eventually sleep.”

Her daughter? Could that be…?

“WHERE IS SHE?” The question slipped out of my mouth without even thinking about it first.

My anger could not be controlled right now. I was pushing myself to my limits to break my fetters, to no avail. Were that woman and that man (Y/N)’s parents? I started making some connections here and there; they looked similar to (Y/N), though so different at the same time. Their immortality, their red eyes, their confidence, and their aggression did not remind me of (Y/N). She had a pure face, a face of kindness, she was not like them.

“You think so? Alexandre, can you please call (Y/N), agapi mou?” The woman turned to the man, and the man started moving his fingers in front of him, creating some sort of a wave around him.

Within a few seconds, the door burst open and the first thing I saw was a red silky fabric flowing around the air. When the fabric settled down slowly, I saw her for the first time after so long. She has changed..a lot. Her (Y/E/C) eyes were replaced by piercing red ones, with a slight hint of (Y/E/C) around the pupils. Her eyes apathetic and stern; her facial features more defined; her hair reached a little below her shoulders, straight and shiny, like her father’s. She still looked as beautiful as ever.

She stared at us, focusing her eyes mostly on me. Her heartbeat sounded steady and strong. I was relieved; she was still human, they had not turned her fully vampire yet. She took a few steps farther into the house, her feet bare but surprisingly clean, no dirt, no grass had stained them. She stood right beside the woman, who I now knew was her mother and Aro’s daughter.

“What are they doing here?” Her voice came out stern, yet it was music to my ears.

I missed her voice so much. I missed her so much. Our mate bond, weakened by the distance and time spent apart, slowly started forming again. I felt it; I felt my existence becoming meaningful again. I felt my breath hitching in my throat, her presence provoking so many different feelings and emotions inside me. However, she still seemed cold and distant, and I couldn’t quite read her face. Did she not feel the same? Has she forgotten me? Does she hate me now?

I saw her gaze getting softer, even compassionate? She approached me and bent down slightly, placing her left hand carefully on my right cheek. She stared deeply into my eyes and I closed mine, leaning on her touch. It was the purest moment I have experienced in my 2000 years of life.

I opened my eyes and stared at her. I saw golden flakes scattered in between the red in her eyes. Once again, she took my breath away. It felt as if I fell in love with her all over again, a unique feeling of refreshment. We were lost in our own little world. She smiled slightly at me, the first time she did after such a long time.

“Enough! (Y/N) get away from him, now!” (Y/N) was forcefully removed away from me by her mother. She was looking at me pleadingly and then turned to look at her parents with such hatred. I’ve never seen her like this ever again, not even with Aro.

“YOU. WILL. NOT. TELL. ME. WHAT. TO. DO!” If looks could kill, (Y/N)’s parents would be dead by now. Her hands started lighting up, bright purple flames rising up. She was trying to intimidate her parents, but neither of them looked concerned in the slightest. She turned to us and with a dance-like move of her hand, we were finally freed of our fetters.

It was her father’s turn to speak. “(Y/N), let’s take this outside.” With a jerking motion of his hand, we all found ourselves, outside, in their house’s front yard.

“They’ve come to take you back to Volterra, back to Aro! Don’t you see it? They don’t care about you! They just want to please their master.” The words came bitter out of her mouth. She had a clear resentment towards the Volturi. “I will not let them take you away from me! Not again!”

“I know, mother, I’ve read their minds, too. Yet, I don’t see why YOU seem to think that you can make the decisions for me. I am my own self. I can make decisions for myself. And I get to choose what I do with my life.” (Y/N)’s voice was certain, powerful, in control. “They are not bad people, mother. They just have to follow orders, just like you followed Aro’s orders, just like I followed yours. That’s not going to happen anymore. I am taking control of my life!”

The sweet, little girl I got to see my whole life was becoming a strong, powerful woman right in front of my eyes. She was radiating power; she was taking control of her life. She was..my everything. She was becoming independent, her own self. To say I was proud of her, would be an understatement. She has always been special, but this newly-found power has clearly given her way more confidence and trust in herself.

She would finally be able to rule the Volturi. If she decided to come back to Volterra, she could definitely take over the coven. No one would be able to resist her or her gift. My thoughts were quickly interrupted when her dad started shouting in Greek.

Demetri, who was standing right next to me, saw the look of total confusion in my eyes. “I’ll translate for you.” I nodded at him. “So, her father says: Enough with this nonsense, (Y/N). Your place is here, with us. You owe us; we taught you what you needed to know about your magic. We taught you how to use it, how to develop it. You didn’t know enough to defend yourself back then.”

“Now, (Y/N) says: I don’t owe you anything. Yes, you did teach me how to use my magic, which I inherited from you. But, you gave me away to Aro. You couldn’t defend me or yourselves against him. You just offered me to him, as if I was a present for his birthday or something.”

“Now, her mother says: You, at least, owe it to yourself to get away from these tyrants. You know they don’t deserve you, so why are you still defending him? It’s that man, isn’t it? Now, (Y/N) says: That man has a name. Now, her mom says: You know, his name means “lucky”, "happy" in Greek. Yet, he hasn’t been that lucky or happy at all, has he? We read his mind, (Y/N), he’s not worthy of you.”

“Now, (Y/N) says: Guess what? I have also read his mind, and I have also read the two of you, as well. Don’t you think that it is only you who can read my mind while I’m sleeping! I’ve been reading your minds any chance I get! I know how you’ve been planning to use me, as a weapon against the Volturi! Guess again! I’m not going to let you manipulate me anymore! And that man deserves EVERYTHING in this world!”

“ENOUGH!” Her father shouted and threw a dark red glowing sphere, hitting (Y/N) and knocking her on the ground. My heart dropped at the sight, but she quickly stood up and gathered so much energy in her own hands, attacking her father with a powerful hit.

He got wounded, his face slightly cracked from his forehead to his jaw, yet he didn’t give up. He was about to attack her once again when his wife stopped him. She was looking at me and nodded to her husband. I heard (Y/N) screaming, but I didn’t make out what she was saying, as I started screaming myself and felt myself getting tossed in the air. Then, everything went black once again.

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