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#he's so beautiful even when covered in blood
kooktrash · 2 days
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TEMPEST ☆ jeon jungkook
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summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.
☆ genre/au: obsessed!jungkook x college student!y/n [afab, she/her]
☆ 31k words [😭]
warnings: soft yandere. smut. jk is a little delulu. toxic. manipulation. gaslighting. underground streetfighter by night, gym owner by day. he’s intimidating and a huge asshole to everyone but y/n—hes aggressive but he hides it. calvin klein jk. spoiler: he slutshames oc’s bff but she’s snakey. depictions of violence [streetfighter, aggressive, he beats a man with a brick deadass, and physically assaults someone]. He’s not a good guy. dom/sub/switch themes but not intense. rough sëx. multiple rounds. oral [both recieving]. missionary. riding. needy and clingy jk. possessive jk. jk is good at pretending. jk has familial problems. severe abandonment issues. unprotected smüt but also only for one round [they go for two]. oc is aware of his red flags but does oc care?
tempest by deftones
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There was something about someone seeming unattainable that always seemed to draw him in the most. It’s almost like he enjoyed making things harder for himself, like he wanted to make a game of it. Of course it wasn’t a good thing for him to do this especially not when it was at the expense of another person’s emotions but he couldn’t help it. When someone as beautiful and bright as the person across the bar from him catches his attention, how was he not supposed to want them for himself?
You didn’t look shy, maybe just quiet, or mysterious would suit you better. There was a sense of wariness around you that he could spot from a mile away with the gaze you used to eye the crowded bar. Everyone here looked more rugged, a mix of band tees, leather jackets, motorcycle boots and smoke clouding the air. Even the women around were more fit for a place like this with their deep shades of red lipsticks, low-cut tops and tight jeans whereas you seemed to illuminate in a different light.
“When you said you wanted to get a few drinks, this isn’t what I thought you meant,” you said with distaste as you spotted a reddish-brown stain on the cement flooring of the bar looking eerily similar to washed up blood. It made your fingers tighten around your small handbag and the pink pepper spray you had inside it. You pressed your legs more firmly together, deeply regretting the satin miniskirt you wore and how little it covered you from behind. In your defense, you thought you would be going to a relaxing lounge bar with expensive champagne and servers dressed in suit and tie… not some run-down bar on the wrong side of the tracks.
“It isn’t? I could’ve sworn I specified,” your best friend lied with a grin as she took your hand in hers and directed you to the bar, “And it’s fine, we’re meeting some guys here tonight and you’ll start feeling comfortable soon. Just don’t look so prissy, Y/n, you might get robbed.”
“Or worse than that,” you mumbled to yourself as she leaned over the counter without a care of how her tight dress raised from the back and smiled flirtatiously at the bartender. You circled your arms around yourself in an attempt to appear smaller and more closed off—also hoping to hide the exposed parts of your torso. While she did most of the talking, you took in more of the area with a faint scrunch of your nose, clearly displeased by it all.
It was somewhat small, beer posters and neon signs on the wall. The bar was a long strip filled with scary men with tattoos all looking at you and your friend. There were a few tables here and there, dart boards on one side and a couple pool tables scattered around too. It was technically a one-story building aside from the lofted area that only seemed big enough for another pool table or two and a line of slot machines. The lighting was dim but not dark and maybe that’s what made it so easy for you to notice the eye contact you made with someone else.
He was… intense. He had the structure of someone you would find attractive but the look in his eyes nearly drew you away with just that. It was hard to pull away from it and it made your heart race. It wasn’t the look you gave someone on accident, it was purposeful and long, one that demanded to be noticed. He held a pool cue in his hands and was with a group of men you could barely make out but there was no denying he was more focused on you than whatever happened around him.
“You made it!” A voice cut into the blur of noise that you had tuned out, and suddenly your attention was taken away from the stranger. You looked at the two guys in front of you, brows scrunched with confusion as you studied them. They couldn’t have been more opposite from the man you just looked at with their pastel colored button-ups that screamed of years spent in a Fraternity. Still, not the type who would come to a place like this.
“Sorry we’re late, I take full blame since I forgot my wallet and had to drive back for it but I’m here now and I’m hoping I haven’t missed anything,” one of them said to your friend, as he pulled her into a hug and his hand slid down to her waist. Sieun smiled, “No worries, we haven’t been here long anyway.”
She turned to you with her hand pinned to his toned chest and pressed to his side, “Y/n, this is Rowoon.”
“Hey,” the guy said with a cocky nod of his head before looking at his friend, “That’s Jisoo, he’s a good buddy of mine.”
You raised an impressed brow but looked at his friend who seemed to have a quieter, more toned down nature that made you feel a fraction less uncomfortable. Maybe he didn’t care to be here either.
A familiar whooshing sound followed the movement of his pool cue as he aimed for a solid green number six and watched the ball sink into one of the holes. He couldn’t help but smile knowing how close he was to winning and only two more to go. With careful calculation to how he could make it in, he rounded the table looking for the best angle.
Facing the same direction as another earlier occurrence, he looked up for a second, searching the crowd below him with a quick sweep. The light he had found earlier was dimly lit behind a pair of lean shoulders that had his eyes narrowing. The guy’s back was to him and he towered over you obnoxiously that he could barely make you out. You weren’t at the bar anymore, now you were tucked away at some far table, smiling at whoever you talked to and he quickly did the math. Your friend and you had suddenly become four, two noticeable pairings that had him wondering if the pretty girl from earlier was taken. If so, how does he go about that obstacle? Does he still take his chances for a little bit of fun?
“Hurry it up man, I’m gonna piss myself already,” his friend, Hoseok, nearly cried as he shook his leg, tightening his grip on his pool cue. Jungkook didn’t say anything as he looked at you one more time, eying suspiciously at the sight of your smile disappearing and an awkward glance toward your friend replacing it.
He angled himself with the cue and aimed for a yellow number two before looking over, hardening his gaze as he watched you hold a hand up to the guy as if asking for some distance. He shot the cue without meaning to, and failed to notice how he pocketed the 8 ball too soon and lost.
“Well that was shit,” Namjoon sneered as he pushed off the high table he was leaning against and took Jungkook’s cue from him, “I thought you were better than this.”
Hoseok practically ran to the nearest bathroom as he won the round and Yoongi took his place, “Wow, he really is about to pee himself.”
“Whatever,” Jungkook huffed as he looked toward the staircase, “I think I’m gonna get another drink, go on without me.”
“Bring me one,” Yoongi called out but Jungkook was already heading down the steps, shouting back a quick, ‘Get it yourself’, and disappearing.
“Brat,” Yoongi muttered under his breath as he took the small chalk square and rubbed it on the tip of his cue.
“No, I don’t think I owe you anything, actually,” you said with an annoyed sigh as you looked up at Jisoo. What you had hoped would be a somewhat comfortable night quickly turned left when you realized the two guys Sieun invited were nothing but entitled law students wanting to get their dick wet. You should have recognized it sooner, it would have saved you all this time if you just went home instead of following along with your best friend’s ploy.
It had been alright at first but then the drinks became a couple too many and suddenly the nice guy you thought Jisoo was became an arrogant manchild who’s upset you won’t let him grind against you for a song.
“Come on, don’t be such a bitch about it, it’s just dancing,” Rowoon said, apparently attempting to play matchmaker for his best friend to get some tonight too. Your brows raised in disbelief before looking down at Sieun who seemed stunned. She was leaning against him with his arm secured around her waist and she made no move to pull away from him either.
“Y/n,” she bit her lip nervously, “You are acting kind of stuck up, they’ve been buying us drinks all night.”
A scoff left your lips, “Because they wanted to, Sieun. I never asked nor did I promise anything.”
“Whatever man, it’s not even worth it,” Jisoo said as he looked at his friend, “I knew you were going to have us hang out with spoiled bitches tonight.”
“Is that a way to talk about a someone standing right in front of you?” A deep voice cut in from a couple feet away and it took you all a moment to realize they were talking to Jisoo. You looked behind him at the man from upstairs, throat tightening in surprise by his darker aura up close. He was attractive, godly, and you couldn’t deny it when he stood near you now. He looked down at you with that familiar gaze from earlier and only looked away when Jisoo processed his intrusion.
“Hey, why don’t you turn around and mind your business, bro,” Jisoo said with a scoff. You looked at Sieun with worry but her eyes were trained on the stranger as he glared at Jisoo.
“I can’t when you’re shouting out your business for anyone to hear,” Jungkook said with a tight smile, “It just sounds like you can’t handle rejection, bro.”
“Is this guy bothering you?” He asked you in a gentle tone, not caring for the eyes on him as he grew closer to you, “I was just at the bar and I heard some of what he was saying and… well, I just couldn’t stand by when he disrespected you. I didn’t feel like it was right.”
“Yo, why don’t you fuck off already?” Rowoon asked as he pushed Jungkook by the shoulder, “Don’t create a problem where there isn’t or I swear I’ll—“
“You’ll what?” Jungkook asked as he stood straighter, “You’ll stick up for your buddy here? Because if that’s the case I can call a couple of my friends down too and make it a little more fair.”
As if called upon, they looked up to where Jungkook pointed and met Namjoon’s glare. The three were still playing pool but found what was taking Jungkook so long and looked down. You looked up too, mouth dry with anxiety as you turned to Sieun but she seemed intent on sticking to Rowoon’s side. The safest thing to do was to get away from a suddenly messy situation and take your friend home but she was more interested in talking Rowoon down instead.
Jungkook just smiled as he took a step back, “But that’s not necessary, I really just wanted to check on if she was alright or not so I can leave you guys alone now.”
You waited for the stranger to head back to the bar to speak and all you could do was call out to your friend. “Sie—“
“Whatever, fuck this shit is lame,” Jisoo huffed once the stranger was too far for earshot, “You guys do what you want I’m going somewhere else.”
“Yeah,” Rowoon said, trying to pry Sieun’s hands off him, “It’s gotten dead here anyway. I got what I wanted so let’s have fun somewhere else.”
“Wait for me,” she said giddily and you scoffed. She still wanted to go with them? “Sieu—“
“Look, if you don’t want to come out with us that’s fine but I’m not going to be rejected just because you aren’t into your guy,” she rushed to say as she began to walk away from you, “Call Jin, or an Uber and text me when you’re home.”
You looked taken back, surprised by her tone and it had your eyes narrowing with a sense of annoyance. You watched her walk off without you, completely surprised by her audacity to just leave you alone at a place you were clearly already uncomfortable at. You assumed you would be meeting up with others tonight but not somewhere like and not people like those guys. Sieun knew all along what she was dragging you into and wanted to paint you like the problem when you didn’t follow along to everything. They called you a bitch for fuck’s sake.
It was obvious what she said had been somewhat of a bluff considering she looked back at you like she still expected you to follow after her. Instead, you stood back looking indifferent to her departure and waited till she was out of sight to let yourself worry.
The spring night air was still chilly, too cold to be outside waiting for an Uber in the clothes you wore and you didn’t want to stand out there alone anyway. Your best bet was to wait at the crowded bar and pray no one put anything in your drink or something.
Jungkook was evidently surprised to see you alone out of the blue and sitting on the stool next to his, not bothering to even look his way as you focused on your cell phone. He couldn’t help but bite back a smile, thinking of what he should say and how he should say it. You barely reacted to him earlier but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. It was all about timing and patience.
“I’m sorry for butting in earlier,” Jungkook said in a gentle tone that drew your attention toward him, “It wasn’t my place at all and I should have just ignored it but I heard them go on for a while and no one was doing anything to stop it and I guess I just acted without thinking.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment, simply looked at him as if debating if it was even worth your time to respond. With a polite smile you said, “It’s fine, but thank you.”
“No problem,” he cleared his throat, “But uh, you shouldn’t surround yourself with guys like that.”
“Trust me I don’t,” you sighed, “It’s the first time I’m meeting them and it’ll also be the last. Sorry you got dragged into it.”
“I didn’t,” Jungkook said as he looked down at his drink thinking of what to say, “I uh… well, I saw you earlier and I guess it was the perfect excuse to talk to you. Does that make me seem like a hypocrite? Here I go trying to save you from being hit on while I wanted to do the same, shit.”
His suddenly shy and flustered demeanor amused you in a way you hadn’t expected. His exterior was rough with his tattoos, dark clothing and obvious chiseled body underneath. He also sported facial piercings you rarely get to see in person and he didn’t seem like the type to blush yet here he was with red cheeks and a nervous smile. It made you more keen on talking to him, made you feel flattered to leave him in such a state if you were being honest.
“I think I would have preferred if it was you instead,” You confessed, remembering back to the eye content you two held with each other when you first got to the bar. He had definitely taken notice of you from the beginning.
Your response caught him off guard and he had to stop his eyes from trailing down to your lips just to see how they looked when you said it. A smirk threatened to show as he sat straighter, “You’re making me blush. I’m Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook, I mean.”
“Y/n,” you said shortly as you looked at his soft rounded eyes that stared back into your own with curiosity. They were focused entirely on you again, “L/n.”
Y/n.
Y/n.
“So Y/n…” he swallowed dryly, “I see your… friends are gone, what are you going to do?” He sucked in his cheek to keep his expression still as he watched you crane your neck out with an exaggerated sigh. In all honesty, it was the perfect amount of exposure for him to press his lips to your delicate skin and leave a soft trail of kisses in their wake.
He wasn’t sure how to explain it, but you were so appetizing like he wanted to have a taste. Just one.
“I’m not sure,” you admitted as you looked down at your phone, “I’ve just been waiting for my ride to get here, but I should probably get going now.”
“Can I walk you out?” He asked. All it took was a simple nod of your head for him to be getting off the stool, stretching a hand out to you and helping you down. You took a moment to adjust your skirt that had risen when you were sitting and let him take your hand once more as you walked out.
It’s so strange knowing that if Jisoo had acted better, there was a chance you would be walking hand and hand with him instead. What was stranger was how your eyes had been on Jungkook at first too.
Eyes followed behind you like they had when you arrived and it made you nervous all over again. There was one thing to know people were looking at you, it was another to know people were glaring at you. Even if it wasn’t maliciously it felt like a lot to be stared at in a room you had never been in. Not to mention half of the men here gave you the serious creeps and now that you weren’t distracted by conversation, their wandering eyes were more noticeable.
“I’ve never seen you here before,” Jungkook stepped back to say into your ear over the loud music, essentially pulling you closer to him, “You don’t look like the type to hang around these parts.”
“Is it that obvious?” You asked, walking a little bit quicker to stay close. He slowed his walk to match yours better and cleared room for you to walk ahead of him as you went on, “Are you?”
“Am I?” He asked with slight confusion before he could fully process what you said and in an attempt to brush it off, he simply said, “Every now and then if I want something more lowkey.”
The two of you made it out in one piece but the red tesla Uber X that was supposed to pick you up was still a couple minutes away and it was cold. You wrapped your arms around yourself immediately after the cold hit and your teeth chattered loudly that he couldn’t help but look down at you. He didn’t want to grab you but he didn’t want you to freeze either, so he stepped closer so that you nearly touched and tried blocking you from the direction the chilly night air was blowing.
“You don’t have to wait with me, you’re probably cold too,” you said between trembling teeth, nearly jumping in place to warm yourself up. Jungkook just smiled as he looked down at you, “And leave you out here all by yourself? No thanks, I’m feeling fine, you’re the one who looks like you could use some more warmth.”
“I’m fine,” you lied, leaning into him without meaning to and feeling the body heat radiate off of him and cast you with a hint of warmth you desperately needed. If you had forgotten about Sieun ditching you for two guys, you remembered now and very clearly at that. She was probably off having fun and doing what they want while you practically froze outside.
“Come here,” he whispered gently, taking the initiative to just go for it and pull you into his arms. You were hesitant to let a stranger touch you — no matter how attractive he was — but it was just for a short moment while your Uber was a couple blocks away. You tucked yourself into him feeling his hands run up and down your arms as if to offer you further warmth and hugged you close.
You stayed against him for as long as you needed to until your ride was finally pulling up to where you stood and confirming you were their customer.
“Get home safe,” Jungkook told you and without thinking, you pressed your lips to his cheek in a goodbye before getting in the car with a quick ‘thank you’ thrown his way like it was nothing.
It took Jungkook a moment to bounce back. His face felt flushed and warmer than necessary and he stood at the end of the street watching the red Tesla drive off with his newest infatuation inside it.
“See, he didn’t leave.”
“Aye, Jungkook, mind telling us where you’re headed?” Hoseok asked as his friends from upstairs followed him out the club, “They thought you were ditching us for some chick.”
“Where’d she go anyway?” Yoongi asked, staring down the direction Jungkook was still facing, “And where’s her little friend? She was cute too.”
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He thought about you for days. The very little amount of information he learned the other night played on a loop in his mind and he tried to dissect every little thing as if it’d help get closer to you. He hoped for anything that could fill the space of deep regret. How stupid could he be to not ask for your number?
It was such a rookie mistake and it made him want to gnaw at his skin. He had the chance to try and pursue it further and he had been too distracted by your innocent kiss to think properly. There were so many chances where he could’ve asked for your number but instead he just blanked. And how could he let himself be so distracted?
He’s hyper aware of his looks and how easy it was for him to charm someone but he never did anything about it. Every now and then he might indulge in time spent with someone else but anytime it started feeling a little too intense for his liking, he would end it quickly. Usually, he didn’t have to make the first move and people come to him. It makes it easier to turn them down that way too but he acted on impulse when he cut in. He wanted to get closer and once he’d done that he forgot how to act apparently.
How could he not ask for your number?
“You nervous?” Namjoon asked as he helped Jungkook wrap his hands with gauze. He was silent while Namjoon worked around him and it’s rare to not see him readying himself for a match. Jungkook could barely hear him speak as he listened to some rock song on full blast through his headphones. His mouth was practically sewn shut with how tight he held his jaw in place and his leg bounced with adrenaline.
When Namjoon freed one of his hands, he knocked the headphones off and looked at his friend, “What?”
“Are you nervous?” Namjoon asked again with a smirk this time, “You’re zoning out on me more than usual.”
“I’m trying to concentrate,” Jungkook said as he looked at his reflection in the dirty mirror of the locker room. The room was ugly green from old fluorescent lights and it reeked of sweaty gym equipment making it feel gloomy. It made him feel dirty.
He thought about you and your pretty outfit, the way it hugged your shape promiscuously in all the right places but also felt shy. Maybe that was part of your charm aside from your strong eye contact. You presented yourself shyly but he had a feeling that wasn’t the full truth of it. As if underneath your worrisome exterior, you had enough confidence to not need attention on you—even when you already have it. At least that’s what he thought when he saw you down in the crowd for the first time.
You had gone from someone attractive he had caught a glimpse of to someone he wanted to talk to. All you had to do was catch his eyes with yours and you had him thinking about you for days. When you willingly stepped into his arms and kissed his cheek, it had actually made him flustered. It was unexpected and cute, made his heart race just a little. Is that why he couldn’t let you be? Was it because his heart raced annoyingly while his head told him to let it go?
Stupid.
He was so stupid to let you go.
“It’s time.”
Namjoon gave him a reassuring pat on his shoulder and the two left the room ready to start. He played with the tape over his eyebrow piercing as he began to feel the slight rush set in when he was readying for a fight. The crowd was loud and cheering on whoever they were betting and most had a tendency to bet on him.
The opponent across from him was taller with broader shoulders and bleached blond spiky hair. He was glaring at Jungkook like he was trying to intimidate him but he just walked onto the mat calmly. The cheers around him grew louder, all chanting his name knowing he’d be taking home another win tonight.
The fight was going to be simple tonight, no eye gouging specifically but aside from that, no rules. He preferred them that way, he could practically do anything he wanted to win and he used everything he had, every time.
Just one, simple round.
”Look, I swear I didn't invite those guys again, plus Jimin is already here,” Sieun promised for the third time tonight as she pulled you closer to the front of the line where security was checking ID’s and taking fees. After nearly a week of ignoring her because of how she ditched you the past weekend, you grew bored of it and when she reached out to you, you responded. She does a lot of things to annoy you but you never care much to stay mad especially after knowing her for a couple years now. You were originally roommates your first year and developed into friends quickly after that.
She's more of a party girl than you are but it’s never bothered you before, even when some of the men she chooses to surround herself around are questionable. In all honesty, you don’t know how many friends she has aside from you and Jimin.
“I thought you guys were gonna cancel on me,” your friend said as he met with you two at the front. It was loud with flashing club lights and music that blared through your eardrums. He looked uncomfortable with everyone around but he tried to mask it with a smile.
Like yourself, Jimin rarely chose to go out so you would often find yourselves hanging out while scrolling through Sieun’s many posts of how great her night was. It was a choice and that’s why he was so hesitant to agree this time around. You practically had to beg him to join after Sieun begged you to come along too. There was some sort of underground ‘rave’ tonight at some abandoned warehouse not far from downtown and she had been buzzing about it for days.
You don’t even know where she heard of a place like this and when she waved the pink flier in front of your face, you were worried and curious. Now you find yourself surrounded by sweaty bodies drunk and high off who knows what while you try to anchor your worrying thoughts on your friend.
“I got you drinks,” he said, handing you both a cup, looking you up and down quickly and shifting his gaze away nervously. Sieun took hers and looked around, “Oh my god it’s so loud in here. There’s so many people, isn’t it fun?”
“Just don't run off like last time, we can’t afford to go looking for you again,” Jimin added, remembering back to the last time she got the two of you to come out with her. It was around Halloween and she left to go take shots with someone and before you knew it, she was gone. Her phone was in your purse after whining that she didn’t have pockets and it wasn’t until the next day you found out she made out with some guy before he paid for her cab to go home telling you how she blacked out.
“Jimin, don’t act like my dad and let’s just have fun,” she said, taking his hand in hers, trying to get his limp fingers to lace with her own, “I’ve got my two favorite people tonight.”
“Let’s take a shot then,” Jimin said with a sigh, letting go of her hand and turning toward you, flustered. You couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re such a pushover, y’know.”
“Yeah, whatever, it’s hard not to be when I’m friends with you two,” he joked as the three of you walked to the bar, “And just for clarification, I’m more of a pushover when it comes to you.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You asked playfully as you got to the bar first, leaning against it as you waited for the bartender to notice you.
“Last weekend when you showed up at my door and crashed on my bed,” Jimin reminded you of the Saturday before. In a slightly tipsy mistake, you had been too annoyed with Sieun to do anything thoroughly and when you scheduled an Uber it was to Jimin’s place not yours. It had been the last saved address put into the app and you hadn’t cared to notice your mistake until you were so close to his apartment that there was nothing you really thought to do. It didn’t help that you had been distracted by the events of that night and the small moments with a handsome stranger.
“You let me in, you could’ve turned me away,” you joked knowing that he never would. You woke him up out of his sleep with a phone call asking to be let up and he tiredly let you kick him off his bed making him sleep in the living room. The next day you told him what happened [leaving out certain parts ] and he ignored Sieun because you did and he forgave her when you did.
A scoff left his lips, “Like I ever could.”
“What can I get you guys?”
You looked away from Jimin quickly, unsure how to feel after his mumbled words and quickly told the bartender what you wanted. An audible sigh was heard from his lips as he turned to Sieun, ready to feel her prying eyes mocking him silently like she usually did when the three were together. She seems to think he’s just your little shadow but he’s not.
“Where’s Sieun?” He asked suddenly, shifting his gaze back to you, “Did she go to the restroom?”
“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug, grabbing your card out of your wallet to pay, “She didn’t say anything?”
“Oh my god,” Jimin huffed, “I’m gonna look around real quick, just stay there.”
In all honesty, Jimin was kind of thankful for Sieun’s disappearance. He could take a moment and rethink what was on his mind. Tonight was not the night to ask you out, especially not at a place like this and not with Sieun who he was sure had already drank a little bit before getting here. She was a good girl but sometimes she was reckless and he cared about her too so he left to find her and escape you.
The warehouse was in decent condition for being turned into a club like this and big enough to get lost in. It was shameful to admit how easy it was for Jimin to get lost.
After the fight, Jungkook had a heavy sense of adrenaline still coursing through his veins. His win was a given and with a promise to buy his friends drinks tonight, he went out to celebrate, landing himself at the same place as you for the second time in his life.
One might think it was just coincidental that they both attended the same place a second week in a row or you could look at it from a different perspective. Once again, Jungkook was given a second chance. You had been on his mind for days and it must’ve worked some string of fate to bring you together again and he couldn’t let that go.
You haven’t noticed him yet but he doesn’t blame you. The place was huge and dark so even if he sat across the squared bar counter, you couldn’t see him past the bottles at the center and the bartenders checking each side. He could only see you because of one of the strobe lights that kept casting you in a green glow. He recognized your features quickly and was reminded all over again of the strange trance you seemed to put him in.
Jungkook wasn’t oblivious to the guy you had been talking to for a while and unlike last time, you didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. You seemed to enjoy his company and when he left in the same direction your bitch of a friend did, you looked sad. He watched and waited while you did, the minutes passing by and still standing alone he couldn’t take the sight of it any longer.
Jimin and Sieun took forever and the longer you stayed hogging the bar while people tried to order, the more uncomfortable you got being alone. It’s the only reason why you chose to go and find your friends yourself, hoping they weren’t off arguing somewhere.
The last thing you wanted to do was get through the thick crowds to find your friends when you could barely see through strobe lights and random flashes of blue or red. Faces blurred together with deep shadows that barely let you see anyone clearly and your cell service was awful right now. It left you at a stand still, unsure which direction to take and annoyed by it.
In the mix of unfamiliar faces, one began to change and it didn’t take long for you to recognize him. Jungkook didn’t shy away from your soft glare, looking at you with a glint of adrenaline. His heart was pounding in his chest making his mouth feel dry in surprise. He closed the space between you, taking in your appearance in front of him and with an urge to smile, and shyly pointed out, “You again.”
“Me?” You questioned dumbly, still trying to wrap your mind around this coincidence. How is it that you’ve run into this stranger twice and so suddenly? Sure, you thought about him briefly and you assumed that was the end of it.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Jungkook said. Your brows furrowed together and he’ll admit your look of confusion hurt him a little. Had you already forgotten all about him and was he just making a fool of himself this time? As he waited for you to respond, his nails pushed into his palm in a closed fist trying to ease his nerves.
“Why?” You asked, barely giving him any sort of response before it was his turn again. You too thought you’d never see him again yet you asked because you wanted to know his reasoning.
Despite his growing anxiety that he was the only one who couldn’t get you out of his head, he smoothed his tone and said, “Because you make me nervous.”
“You’re lying,” you said with the hint of a smile that encouraged him to keep going.
“I’m not,” Jungkook admitted truthfully, a soft look in his eyes as he said, “And you have no idea how mad I was that I didn’t get your number.”
When you didn’t say anything it made his smile falter, “Or did you already forget all about me?”
With a roll of your eyes, you released a small sigh and shook your head no. If anything you were forgetting your search for your friends because he was too distracting. A new smile spread across his features and he looked down at your full hands, “You plan on drinking all that yourself?”
It’s obvious they were for you and your bitch of a friend [who he remembers clearly ditching you for guys who insulted you], and some guy. Something inside him is asking who the guy was and if it was someone he should worry about being in his way but he’s decided to ignore it. Until you make it known that you don’t like his interest in you, he’s not planning on stopping.
You looked down at the drinks he was referring to and without thinking, you thrusted one toward him, “No, why don’t you take one?” As you juggled the three drinks in your hands, he was so close to grabbing one when a group of drunken people pushed past you to the bar, pressing you toward him.
His focus was on keeping you upright and in his arms rather than the three red cups that were crushed between you, or the cold liquid that spilled down the front of your dress. A soft gasp left your lips, stumbling into him as he held you up but locked eyes with one of the people who bumped into you. The guy didn’t even bother apologizing and that annoyed Jungkook even more. He looked up at Jungkook, feeling his glare on him that you didn’t even seem to notice as you worried more about the front of your dress being drenched in alcohol.
“Hey” Jungkook said over the loud music and the guy scoffed, rolling his eyes and attempting to follow his group. He moved to stand in front of him, same height but bigger build and said, “Don’t you think you should apologize?”
The guy tried to ignore him but Jungkook made it hard. He stood in front of him, little space between them and it was so obvious he was intimidating him. Jungkook watched the guy look back at you as you tried to dry off the front of your dress, he muttered a useless apology. You rolled your eyes, turning to Jungkook instead as you said, “I’m gonna go dry off.”
He let you walk off without much of a worry as he looked around. Your friends were nowhere to be seen and you left to the bathroom so he had a moment to think of what to do. He wanted to be somewhere you could easily find him, or that he could easily find you. At his feet, a bright screen lit up on the floor capturing his attention and without hesitating, he leant down to pick up the phone, recognizing the familiar wallpaper he had seen nights ago when you sat at the bar with him. Two notifications were stacked at the top and he couldn’t help but read them.
jimin: we’re upstairs
jimin: come
The phone has a passcode but he could still read the messages and without thinking, he cleared the notification away and followed after you.
He was not going to miss his chance again.
It took you minutes to dry off alone in the washroom, annoyed by the entire thing. Aside from getting soaked with the stench of alcohol, you were once again reminded that you’ve got no idea where your friends are. You liked seeing Jungkook but you’re still feeling alone somewhere you’re not used to. You need to call either Jimin or Sieun and bitch them out for leaving. Once you finished dabbing dry as much of it as possible, you felt around for your phone.
Your eyes widened suddenly, realizing it wasn’t with you and you felt the unbelievable weight of fear making its way into your fear wondering where it went. You rushed out of the packed washroom to start your search and came to a full stop as you stepped into the dark hallway.
A smile spread across Jungkook’s face, holding your phone up and waiting down the hall for you to find him. Your hands circled his as you took it from his hand, “Oh my god, thank you.”
You quickly checked your notifications screen for any sign that your friends were still alive and rolled your eyes when you found it blank. If they weren’t going to reach out to you then whatever, you were just going to do what you want. You tilted your head to the side in thought, looking up at him and asking, “Dance with me.”
“Okay,” he smiled warmly, holding your hand and letting you lead him to the music, already swaying your hips to the sound of the music. He let his free hand find the curve of your waist and pulled you toward him happily.
“You’re so pretty,” he said against your neck, soft touch tracing along your hips as they molded against his to the rhythm of the song playing. When your hands touched his all he could think about is how soft they felt. His fingers were rough and bruised from all the fighting he’s done while yours felt more delicate.
“Do I still make you nervous?” You asked playfully, turning to face him, your chest against his as he kept his arms secure on your sides.
“Extremely,” he looked into your eyes, “Especially right now that I’ve got you here with me again.”
Now, before anyone pegs you as the type, you’ve never been one to do things on such a whim. Usually, it took more to get you to show interest in a guy enough to want to sleep with him and that’s why this was so confusing. All you wanted to do was act out and get your hands on Jungkook.
Your decision was sudden and the only reason why you had the courage to tilt his chin down and press your lips against his. Jungkook was quick to respond, eager and hungry to taste you on his tongue. His arms circled around your waist, pulling you so close that it felt suffocating.
“Mm,” you hummed, pushing against him to catch your breath, “Was that too much?”
You both had shaky breaths that left you panting for air. Jungkook didn’t bother to respond as he leaned in for another kiss. This time around, Jungkook kissed you with more purpose.
The first one was on impulse, you kissed but did you really feel anything? He was too rushed and nervous to kiss you right that it felt shallow. Of course it still left him breathless with excitement but he wanted to feel it. When he kissed you the second time, you couldn’t help but gasp in surprise. Jungkook was a good kisser, his lips were surprisingly soft and once you got used to the feel of his lip rings, you kinda liked them. You didn’t even think about everyone around you.
Your friends were so far out of your mind and all you could think about is Jungkook. He was intoxicating in a way. You know nothing about him but you want him and you can’t seem to get enough.
“It’s crowded in here,” You gasped for breath as he kissed down your jaw toward your neck. He was unbothered by the people who watched him, more interested in the way your body seemed to whither against his with each kiss he trailed lower. Your words nearly went past him but they registered enough for him to stop and catch his breath. He looked at you with a dark gaze that reeked of desire.
“Do you want to get out of here then?” He asked, sliding his hand down to yours and pulling you through the thick crow. He made his way through the dark warehouse with ease, not once thinking of the friends he was supposed to be celebrating with tonight. He found a better way to celebrate his win and it was with you and him standing outside with his lips on yours.
He wished he could say he remembers how everything happened but he can’t. He doesn’t want to remember the agony of driving to your place without the need to feel you again. He couldn’t keep his hand off you, driving with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. It wasn’t enough and he had to bite on his bottom lip to keep from jumping over to kiss you at every stop light. You were too distracted telling him directions to notice the way he itched for more but you couldn’t get the thought out of your head either.
There was just something about Jungkook that you wanted at this moment and you don’t even know why. He was attractive, so attractive that it was hard to believe him when he says you make him nervous. A guy like Jungkook is nervous because of you? You wanted, no, needed to know why.
“Do you want a drink?” You asked him shyly once you were in the comfort of your apartment. It was big for one person and littered with things he wanted to learn more about.
“Sure,” Jungkook said with his back to you as he took it all in. There was a backpack on a chair in the corner of the living room and beside it were a stack of textbooks telling him you were most likely in school. He assumed you’d be somewhere in your twenties, possibly younger than him or even around his age.
There was a wall of framed photos of you with friends, some where you looked obviously younger than now and others that seemed more recent. He found the two people you were with tonight in a couple of them and his eyes lingered a little longer on the guy.
He wasn’t in a lot of pictures but he was in enough for Jungkook to notice. In one of them, it was you, Jimin, and some other guy to your side. It looked like a group dinner and if he goes based off the numerous college apparel he found sported by the group, he assumed it was some sort of class gathering. You looked cute with glasses and it took him by surprise to see how different you looked tonight. You looked good either way but he didn’t know the side to you that these pictures showed and he wanted to.
Like this pretty one where you laid in bed with a cat on your stomach, resting casually and effortlessly stunning. Is that what you looked like in the morning?
“Here,” you came up behind him and handed him a glass of wine. Jungkook took it with thanks and turned to face you, “Wow.”
“What?” You asked with a slight scoff. Jungkook shrugged as he tipped back his glass for a drink, “Is it my pictures? Ignore them, I look horrendous in some of them but I need them for the memories.”
“Wow, as in I’m with a pretty girl who’s been on my mind since the first time we met and I can’t believe it,” Jungkook said, taking a step closer to you.
You couldn’t help but smirk when you watched him set the glass down on the coffee table and walk toward you, “You’re a little too good with your words, yknow.”
“Really?” Jungkook asked, circling your waist with his hands, dipping his head to meet yours, “You think it’s because I’m telling the truth?”
“Is that it?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and let him pull you into him, “I take it you’re not nervous anymore.”
“Terrifyingly nervous, actually,” he whispered, lips brushing against yours teasingly, “Because I still want to kiss you.”
You kissed him suddenly but he was ready for it and crushed you against him. His fingers were shaking to unzip the back of your dress and he had to remind himself to be patient. He doesn’t know what’s going on with him, just that he wants you.
He pressed himself closer to you, tongue slipping past his lips and to yours. Somewhere between the way your tongues danced for control, he had gotten the top of your zipper unhooked and was letting it fall apart along your back. It happened so quickly you gasped and circled your arms around his neck hoping to keep the dress from falling and exposing the expanse of your naked body too soon. He distracted you with his mouth along your jaw while his hands roamed your smooth back, feeling you without a barrier and letting his fingertips buzz with want.
He circled his hands down to your hips, tightening his grip and you got the hint quickly, throwing your legs around his waist as he carried you, not once breaking the kiss. You panted, out of breath, and a little shocked by the pace of it all. You weren’t complaining but you also weren’t expecting him to unzip your dress and hoist you up so easily.
He followed where you pointed and kicked your bedroom door open without a care to how hard it slammed against the wall or how hard he shut it back before he was throwing you onto your bed.
“I usually have more patience,” Jungkook spoke in a low, raspy tone as he reached for the back of his shirt and pulled it off, “But you have to understand, I haven’t been able to get you off my mind.”
You would’ve responded back about how he has been on your mind too if you hadn’t been so distracted by the veins running down his V-line. His abdomen was nothing but solid muscle and his tattoos went farther that you had first originally thought. He had a pretty body, and you were staring at it too hard to articulate a response. He unbutton his jeans, kicking them off and looked at you with a darkened gaze.
As if moving mechanically, you pulled at the straps of your dress, letting it fall off your shoulders and pulled it the rest of the way thanks to his earlier help. It slipped to your feet and he knelt on the bed to help you remove it completely, hovering over your now naked body and staring down at it.
“Now I’m the one feeling nervous,” you admitted in a teasing tone as you pressed your thighs together knowing the only things separated his manhood from your heat was your thin lace underwear and his Calvin Klein’s. Jungkook heard what you said but he couldn’t understand it. How could you feel nervous? why do you close your thighs and try to hide your bare chest from his eyes?
Do you not realize how perfect you are to him? From the length of your legs to the figure he liked to trace with his hands. He found you beautiful from head to toe and with you laying bare beneath him, he could really appreciate it.
Jungkook couldn’t think of the right words for you to know how lovely you looked to him, so instead he kissed your neck, practically pushing your head into the pillows. His hands traced along your sides, caressing teasingly whenever he got too close to your breasts and made a move to touch them but trailing down the last second. It made you arch your back off the bed wanting to feel more and he took it as his sign to keep going.
“Pretty, Angel,” he whispered softly, kissing your neck down to your collarbone, moving down toward your chest. He pressed teasing kisses to the soft mounds, his hands circling the underside and squeezing lightly as he kissed over one of your buds, “So fucking pretty.”
You gasped in surprise when his teeth ghosted over your hardened nipples and soothed the rough feeling with his tongue while his other hand pinched your bud between his index finger and thumb.
His hair tickled your chin and collarbone and you couldn’t help but run your fingers through it, feeling him smirk against your skin and scoot down more. He kissed down your stomach, annoyingly skipped over where you craved him most, and kissed your thighs. When you felt the urge to hurry him along, he knew exactly when to slip his fingers under your lace underwear and pulled them down.
“Fuck,” you gasped ever so lightly when he spread your thighs apart giving you absolutely no way to conceal your obvious arousal. Jungkook loved it, he loved the sight of your exposed pussy to his hungry eyes. He liked that he could see your clit and the slick that huddled at your center, wondering how it would taste when he ran his tongue along it. And he’s never been one for much self control when he really wanted something, so he went for it.
Your legs threatened to shut the moment his tongue made contact with your clit in a long, teasing lick but he held the open. Your immediate reaction to his touch made his dick harden in his briefs and he pressed it into the mattress for some pressure as he wrapped his lips around your clit in a kiss while his tongue swiped over it. It was obvious to you now that Jungkook was highly experienced in pleasuring someone and it showed in how he licked down your folds, collecting arousal on his tongue and coating your clit with it.
Your head sunk into the pillows as you stared up at the ceiling trying to contain the small whimpers that nearly slipped past your lips but it was hard. He was so attentive with his mouth, making sure to tease all of your cunt but making sure to go back to your clit because that’s where you would respond the most. When he looked up at you and found you looking elsewhere with your bottom lip between your teeth, he hadn’t liked it. He released one of your thighs letting it fall over his shoulder while his hand snaked its way along your body, running over your tits and dragged along your neck.
He felt the way your breath caught in your throat when he pulled at your bottom lip, tracing the curve of it with his fingers before pushing them into your open mouth. You curled your tongue around his middle and index fingers, coating them in saliva and gagging lightly when he pressed them a little too deep. All the while, his mouth worked tricks on your pussy.
When Jungkook felt that his fingers were wet enough, he pulled them out of your mouth and felt you pant at the release. He brought his hand down by his face, pulling at your labia and teasing the folds with his fingertips. It was all you got for warning when his lips sucked at your clit and he pressed his middle finger into your wet cunt. Even with just one, you felt tight and he didn’t have to patience to wait before the second one joined.
“Oh,” you moaned helplessly, hand blindly searching the sheets for something to hold before trailing over your thighs until you found purchase in Jungkook’s hair. It was all the guidance he needed to thrust his fingers in and out in rhythm with the way his tongue circled patterns into your clit. You shook your head with pleasure, “I can’t.”
Jungkook didn’t pull back when you squeezed your thighs around his head. Your grip in his hair didn’t ease and he knew you wouldn’t want him to stop now matter what you said so he didn’t. He hooked his fingers into the soft tissue inside your walls, knowing it was your pleasure spot by the way your moans grew.
It was now while he ate out your pussy and fingered you to bliss, that you called bluff on his so-called nervousness around you. No man he claimed to be nervous around you had ever pleasured you the way he has, not this conf
“Jungkook,” you whined, tugging at his hair and dragging a groan from his lips at the sudden pull, “Can’t wait anymore.”
He heard you clearly but he kept going, he kissed your clit harder and fingered you deeper until your walls tightened around them so much that he couldn’t pull them out. He could practically feel the knot forming in your stomach and when he felt as though it could fall apart, he stopped.
An impatient whine slipped past your lips as your legs shook with anticipation for what had been coming and you glared up at him. He was pulling his briefs off, reaching for a condom packet that had been tucked away in his car that he grabbed while you weren’t looking.
“What, baby? Thought you said you couldn’t wait anymore,” He teased as he tore into the packaging with his teeth and brought a hand down to his hard member. You wished you were being dramatic when you thought it was the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, but it was. It was long, not too thin with just the right amount of girth and he was around average in length. Just the right amount to reach that spot that made your toes curl. He was also clean shaven, the veins down his V-line led straight to his cock and their prominence was mouth watering when he stroked himself for friction.
And Jungkook was well aware of the way your eyes traced down his naked body and it only made him smirk. He worked out so often he probably lived at the gym, he ate an appropriate diet, he was fit and healthy. He worked hard to look the way he did and it was obvious you liked it all. He slipped the condom on slowly, letting you imagine how your own hands would feel curled around him and moaned.
“You can touch if you want,” once again he was teasing you, smirking as he said it and crawled onto the bed.
“You’re kind of cocky for someone who claims to be nervous around me,” you groaned against his lips as you sat up to kiss him, following his lead as he laid down on his back and pulled you onto his lap.
He grinned, guiding your hips to align with his and he could practically feel your pussy take him in. His cock stood straight at attention, directly pointed to your entrance and you teased his tip by softly grinding in it. He took a deep breath, feeling it catch at your hole and without warning, pressed your thighs down and made you take him in.
“Fuck,” you both moaned softly as you sank down his length. You pressed your hands to his chest for support as you adjusted to the intrusion and lifted your hips slowly, feeling the stretch and forcing it away. Jungkook kept his hands on your hips, not moving you but keeping you in place when you began to fuck yourself with his cock. You were hesitant at first, shy as you dragged your hips up but after a while, you began bouncing. Your pace had picked up and you weren’t as careful taking him in when you came down on his cock.
“That’s it,” he moaned, fingers digging into your hips, “Keep going.”
You tossed your head back in pleasure, doing as told and letting him walk you through it as you went faster. You never expected him to be someone who liked when the other was on top but damn did he look good beneath you.
Jungkook’s hair was coated in sweat and he had the arm with the tattoos holding your waist. His lip piercing was pulled between his teeth to hold back his moans and his cock felt so big inside you. The muscles in his abdomen flexed everytime your walls squeezed around him and after a while you didn’t notice that he began to take over.
His hands were now moving your hips for you setting it at a quicker and rough pace for his liking. His hips met yours every time you went down and his dick reached a deeper part inside you when he did so. It prodded at your pleasure spot like it knew exactly where it was each time and when it felt like your arms couldn’t support your weight anymore, he pulled you down.
“So good,” you slurred on your words as you fell against his chest, feeling him fuck you roughly from below and move your hips for you while you hugged him.
“Mhm, baby, you feel so good,” he grunted.m, bouncing you on his cock feeling his orgasm build up intensely, “So fucking tight.”
“Jungkook,” you moaned, “Kiss me.”
He did.
He rolled you onto your back, tired of being stuck below you and nearly folded you in half when he raised your legs up. He kissed you harshly, thrusting back into you with more vigor when you moaned for him.
He can’t remember the last time sex ever felt this good—if it ever felt this way, and he couldn’t control himself. He knew he was close already, his cock was now fucking your pussy with more rhythm and determination to make you cum.
Jungkook’s back flex with each buck of his hips and he trapped you below him leaving you with nothing but pleasure and making you take every second of it. Your jaw fell slack, fucked into nothing but a moaning mess and you clawed at his back, “I’m close.”
Those were the right words to egg him on. He was close to cumming too, and he fucked you like he’ll never get a chance again. He fucked you good and hard like you never had before and your pussy walls tightened around him with anticipation. The feeling had built up from earlier and now there was no holding back anymore. You physically couldn’t stop the crash of your orgasm that wrecked your entire body. Goosebumps rose on your skin, your throat went dry and your thighs shook dramatically around him.
The intensity of your arousal knocked his into action when he felt your slick coat his covered cock in your cum and he fell apart. His body crushed yours under its weight as he pushed into the hilt and held it there, cumming into the comment with a long, drawn out groan in your ear, “Fuck.”
It felt like forever before the feeling of being high left your body and when he rolled off of you to lay beside you instead, you took your first real and steady breath of the night. He laid on his back, pulling you into him and tried to catch his breath, “You felt so good.”
“You’re so hot,” you admitted to his face, looking up at him and how he began to absentmindedly play with his brow piercing as he looked down at you.
The one round had tired him out if he were being honest, maybe it was how you tightened around him heavenly so it simply because it was you he was sleeping with of all people, but he was tired.
He hadn’t expected to feel your hand trace down his lean stomach toward his cock that was still semi-hard and covered in his own cum from when he pulled the condom off.
“We’re not done, are we?” You asked teasingly, pressing a light kiss against his abs, hand finding his dick and circling around it.
Jungkook couldn’t bite back the groan that escaped his lips when you began to jerk him back to hardness, “Not even close, baby.”
5AM
“You’re leaving?” You asked in a tired tone as you watched him sit up from the bed. It’s been hours since you slept with him and you both must have fallen asleep when you were snuggling and now you’ve woken up to him wrestling his jeans back on.
“That depends, do you want me to stay?” He asked and he wanted you to say yes. When you fell asleep in his arms he couldn’t help but to also and it was so peaceful. His usual soreness after a fight hadn’t kicked in yet and he was able to relax. The only reason he woke up at all was because of his annoying phone that lit up from inside the pocket of his jeans.
It was his friend asking for a place to crash. He was going to go home and let Hobi in but instead you woke up with a pout asking if he was leaving. You shrugged, “I mean… I get it if you want to leave, I was just asking.”
Your response kind of hurt him and made him wonder if that’s what you wanted. He looked back at you and the way you laid on your side to look at him. The street lamp hit your window directly and rows of orange light filtered through your blinds and on the edge of your bed. He didn’t actually want to leave but he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. Some people don’t like the morning after and he was going to save himself from getting hurt by someone who might not be too interested too soon.
“I don’t want to,” Jungkook admitted with acknowledgement to the way you looked at the thought of him leaving. It didn’t take more convincing for him to be pulling the covers over him once more so he could lay beside you.
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As the days passed, Jungkook stayed on your mind. It didn’t help that your friends felt the need to know everything that happened over the weekend including how you didn’t see their texts. You swore up and down that you hadn’t received anything from them but the next day after Jungkook finally left your place, you called Jimin who scolded you over the phone.
Even now he’s intent on reminding you how you ditched them for some guy. Sieun was more lenient on the matter, “There’s nothing like hooking up with a hot stranger on a Saturday night. I didn’t think Y/n had it in her but from what I remember, her savior was hot.”
The three of you huddled inside a study room that you booked in the library a few days ago. There was supposed to be actual studying going on but instead the three of you were more interested in discussing the events from the weekend. Apparently, Sieun had spotted someone she knew and that’s why she ditched you two so fast. It took Jimin a while to find her but once he did, he appreciated the lack of people on the second floor and deemed it safer and probably more enjoyable than where he had left you. He sent you texts that you never read and with bad connection, his calls wouldn’t go through.
It wasn’t until the morning after that you told them what you had been up to and with who. Sieun remembered Jungkook from what happened with Jisoo and Rowoon and even she could admit he was attractive—making sure to tell you she would have happily jumped his bones too. Usually you’re not as vocal about who you choose to spend a night with but considering the three of you separated on Saturday, it felt like you owed them that much.
“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Jimin asked as he mindlessly jotted down notes from a seminar he missed this morning.
“We're supposed to meet up later for dinner,”you admitted, scrolling aimlessly through your online textbook to find the short questionnaire.
“Ooh, you’re already going for round two? Look at you, you little slut. First you sleep with a stranger and now you plan on hitting him up for more. I didn’t think you had it in you,” Sieun joked obnoxiously.
“It’s not like that,” you tried to say, “It’s just a quick meal… nothing serious.”
Jimin pursed his lips, “Hm, just be careful alright. When’s the last time you dated someone?”
“Oh my god, it’s really not like that, nobody is talking about dating anyone. We’re just going to hang out, that’s it. We don’t even know each other that well,” you told him but he only shared a look with Sieun.
“Was he at least good in bed?” She asked and Jimin covered his ears instantly. Your studying had been long forgotten as you talk about quite literally anything else going on in your life and in a weird way, it felt good.
Usually, you’re locked up in a room studying for the next big exam but lately you’ve been trying to loosen up. You weren’t super big into going out but ever since you ran into Jungkook for the first time it made you wonder why you weren't out having fun like everyone else. You forced yourself out this past weekend and you had the luck to run into Jungkook again, so why shouldn’t you let yourself have fun with someone new? That’s what this was all about, why you’re going out with Jungkook.
Your day went by in a blur probably due to nerves as you anxiously waited for Jungkook. Your last lecture finished late and the sun had already begun to set when you left the auditorium with Jimin who waited outside for you.
“So he’s picking you up?” Jimin asked, taking your backpack off your shoulders so he could carry it. The walk was short to the gate entrance but he did it out of habit and you never argued against it. Jimin has been a good friend to you for some time now and he’s been this way with you. When he gets curious about who you’re potentially seeing, you never think too much about it and always answer honestly.
“Yeah, but I’ll text you later about the project,” You told him, staring out to the entrance trying to see if he was here yet. In an attempt to put yourself out there more, you met Jungkook and it’s been the most exciting thing to happen in a while.
It’s not that you weren’t hit on before or had past ‘relationships’ but none made you feel as giddy as Jungkook does. Usually you’re on your own studying or going to your part time job so making time for someone else wasn’t on your radar until Jungkook. How strange it is that you could quickly change and act interested in someone else. Jimin felt pushed aside as your friend but he didn’t want to think about it. He’s seen you ignore guys so often that it’s taken him by complete surprise to see you show interest in someone who wasn’t him and he’s still not sure how he should feel.
“He’s here,” you turned to Jimin, taking your backpack off his shoulders and wrapping your arms around his neck in an embrace. Jimin didn’t hesitate to hug you back, quickly looking up to find the guy you’ve been talking about. His hold on you didn’t ease as he locked eyes with the guy with shock.
Jungkook was nothing like the kind of guys Jimin pictured you with. He was rugged, rough around the edges and in all honesty, intimidating. How else was he supposed to take Jungkook’s appearance as? He stood against a black Yamaha with his arms crossed in front of his chest staring Jimin down.
He wore a black compression shirt with his tattooed arms on display, black jeans, and shoes. The only color on him was the flash of silver from the shining chain around his neck, his piercings, and the silver Rolex on his wrist. He matched the motorcycle behind him with its silver, chrome rims and a clean engine.
Jimin thought about himself and the other guys you hang around. He tends to wear softer colors and he’s heard too many times how approachable he looks. Jin, who you’ve been close to since you started Uni, was your senior and he always evoked a welcoming smile on his face. He was buff from working out but not scary. Not even the last guy he remembers you talking to wore this much black or drove a motorcycle. What was this about?
“Be safe,” Jimin mumbled as he finally let you go and broke his gaze away from the guy.
“I will,” You waved goodbye and looked at Jungkook, unable to stop the bite on your lip as you looked at him.
Jungkook waited until your friend walked away for his glare to soften, only able to think about the way he hugged you tightly and watched him as he did it. You didn’t fight off his touch either, you enabled it and he wished you wouldn’t. You shouldn’t need to be so affectionate with anyone else now he’s here, especially not another man. He tried to smile when you approached him but all he could think about was where the guy’s hands had been.
They touched your waist, sliding under your cropped knitted sweater just slightly and touching your bare skin. When he let go, his hand had gone down to your hip, one final attempt to keep his hand on you and that meant he knew how soft the denim of your jeans was.
Why did he get to touch you first?
A smile spread across his lips as he eased the lines of irritation off his face the closer you got. Pushing off his bike, he uncrossed his arms and opened them wide, waiting for you to come to him, “Come here, Angel.”
You nearly jumped in his arms, and it made it easy for Jungkook to lift you off the ground in a tight embrace, taking in the soft and familiar smell of your perfume. Jungkook didn’t shy away from showing affection as he left soft kisses against your neck while you tried to keep yourself from losing your footing and with a small laugh, you pushed him back, “Thanks for waiting.”
“Of course,” Jungkook said as he released you, only keeping your hand in his, leading you toward his bike, “I’ve missed you.”
“Liar,” you teased, eyeing the motorcycle before you, “This is yours?”
His muscles tensed when you said he was lying but he tried to let it go and answer your question, “Yeah, why? Are you scared?”
“No,” you shook your head looking over at him, “I’m excited.”
A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips and he lifted up a black helmet with light pink detail around the framing, “Good, because you’ll be riding it more often. This is yours.”
“What?” You touched the helmet as he helped you put it on, “The helmet?”
He nodded with a bite of his lip, “Can’t have you riding around without proper safety. I picked it up this morning, it’s custom.”
You didn’t stop to think about what he said, too excited to get on your first motorcycle. Jungkook had your helmet ordered a few days ago with some added detail he thought you might like. In all honesty, when he left your place the next morning, he submitted the order and began to think of what else you might like. He’s surprised you weren’t nervous and he had thought the helmet would ease you into the idea of letting him drive you around but you didn’t even hesitate to get on. It was cute how excited you seemed and it did things to him.
“Hold me around here,” He said, adjusting your legs to straddle him as moving your arms around his waist, “How does it feel?”
As he waited for you to answer, he felt your hand press against his abdomen, sliding over the ridges of muscle he’s gained in training and toward his taut stomach, fingertips brushing against the belt around his waist. He looked down at your ringed hand catching a feel of him with a crooked smile that you couldn’t see under the helmet. Your head rested against the back as you brought your hands back to where he had them first and said, “Feels fine.”
Tease.
You’re a fucking tease.
Here you are, straddling his bike, feeling him up but hugging another guy. He wants to enjoy it but Jimin is on the back of his mind and it was annoying the shit out of him. He just wanted to be with the person he has feelings for without thinking of anyone else. He has to remind himself you’ve only just started seeing each other, there’s still some things to learn for the both of you.
For him, it was to slow down. He couldn’t jump into it and expect you to give him the same energy, this is why he was hesitant to approach you. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take things slow.
Your first ride on a motorbike had been exhilarating. When you first found Jungkook standing beside it, your heart raced with worry but then you remembered what you told yourself. You were going to try new things and you liked it. Jungkook knew what he was doing and he made you feel safe when he would run a soothing hand along your thigh at a stoplight.
He was a gentleman too. He took your helmet off you when you got to the restaurant and held the door open for you. He pulled your chair out, let you order first and kept his eyes on you and only you. You’ve never met a guy who acts the way he does and it’s a shame.
“Tell me about yourself,” you asked after it felt like ages of him listening to you rant about one of your professors. Jungkook had such a look of patience as he listened but you were tired of talking, and scared you were secretly boring him. You needed to know something about him.
Your food arrived at the table and Jungkook unwrapped your silverware for you, cleared the table and made sure you were taken care of first before saying anything. When he finally did decide to speak, it started with a clear throat, “What do you want to know?”
“Are you in school?” You asked, remembering the night in bed when you figured out your ages through late night cuddles and superficial conversation. You could barely remember what i you talked about because your mind was so clouded and there was still so much to know about him aside from his name and age.
“No, I never went to college,” Jungkook admitted, shifting his gaze toward the other end of the restaurant, “I own a gym.”
“Really?” You asked with surprise, trailing your eyes down to his shoulder muscles, “But you’re so young.”
Underneath the table, Jungkook’s leg had stretched out toward you, foot hitting yours teasingly as he went on, “Yeah, I worked a lot and saved up enough to put a deposit down on a studio. The equipment is old and it’s usually used for kickboxing so there needs to be open space without bulky new machines in the way. I make do with what I got. What are you studying again?”
“Uh uh,” you waved a finger at him, “I’ve been going on and on about myself already, I want to hear more about you.”
“But I could listen to you all day, Angel,” Jungkook said with a smooth tone. You smirked and rolled your eyes, “Nice try but keep going.”
He stayed silent for a moment as you waited for him to keep going, looking down at your plate. A small smile spread across his lips as he said, “There’s not much to know, I’m a boring guy. I've got two loving parents, an older brother I’m close to, and a son named Bam, he’s a Doberman. That’s it.”
”Do they live around here?” You asked, trying to get him to open up more. Jungkook just shook his head no and said, “They live in Busan. What about you? Are you close with your family?”
”Um, not really, they think I’m always too busy so they stopped checking on how I was doing,” You told him honestly, “But they pay for my schooling so I guess that’s a plus.”
The two of you stayed and talked long after the plates were cleared from your table and you couldn’t remember the last time you had a good conversation with someone. Jungkook was a lot softer than his appearance let off. He was sweet and caring and he seemed to listen to every word you said intently your first impression of him as someone tough and intimidating was slowly beginning to dissipate. Jungkook only allowed himself to come off this way but he was into you. He wanted you to know he can be a good guy and so far he thinks he’s done a good job. You’ve been all smiles this entire time and he’s loved every second of it.
If he could, he would stay here all night just listening to you go on and on about anything that interested you. You had his full attention, nearly making him miss the person behind you. He recognized him right away and his lips curled in a knowing smirk when the guy spotted him.
“Looks like they forgot to take out the trash,” the guy mumbled under his breath as he passed by the table you occupied with Jungkook. You couldn’t help but turn at those words, wondering who said that and locked eyes with a tall, good looking guy. Your brows furrowed with confusion, unable to tell if he was talking about you and Jungkook but as you looked up at Jungkook, he was watching the guy closely.
“Do you know him?” You asked under your breath as Jungkook motioned for the waiter to bring the check now. He shook his head, “No.”
”Good for nothing, I’m telling you, and he doesn’t fight fair,” the guy spoke from a table not too far from where you two were, ‘I bet the next time, I’ll take him and he won't be running his mouth like he did last time.”
Jungkook couldn’t help back the scoff that left his lips and he tried to hide his annoyance from showing on his face. All he wanted was to have a good night with you and now someone from his past has decided to unexpectedly rui it. It wasn’t even anyone who mattered, just some guy he fought against a couuple years ago. The guy is still bitter that his trash talking left him with a broken nose and dislocated shoulder. It’s obvious he hasn’t learned his lesson and now that he’s seeing Jungkook again, he’s reminded all over again of the physical pain he put them through and thins this time would be different.
If jungkook really wants to, he would show the guy that time hasn’t changed anything and that he could easily still wring his neck if he chose to. The guy should feel lucky that Jungkook is here with you and doesn’t feel the need to cause a scene.
“Ready to go, angel? It’s getting a little crowded here,” Jungkook’s tone was strained as he tried to sound unaffected by the guy’s remarks but in reality, he was pissed. It was one thing for the guy to run his mouth but to do it when Jungkook is clearly trying to enjoy himself with someone?
“Sure,” your energy was down as you looked back to the guy and the people he was with. They were staring over at you with dark gazes that send a shiver down your back.
“One chance and I’ll knock his fucking teeth in,” the guy said, “Then I’ll take his bitch while I’m at it.”
The last comment seemed to have Jungkook frozen in place. You watched him turn back to the guy with a tense jaw and dead eyes as if in warning and it left you feeling worried and confused. It’s obvious he does know this guy or else why would he be saying those things just to get a reaction out of him? What were you supposed to do in this situation?
“Kook?” The nickname slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself and for a second you thought it had gone unheard until he turned to you with a gentle smile. Jungkook completely switched out of his hardened expression as he walked to your side, sliding his arm around your waist and said, “Let’s go.”
”You okay?” You asked as the two of you made it out of the restaurant in one piece. Jungkook’s motorcycle sat perfectly in the parking lot, waiting for you two to get on it and Jungkook pressed you against it.
Your arms went around his neck without question as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss against your lips, “Of course.”
He pulled away shortly, meeting your gaze, “Let’s get you home.”
In the back of your mind you knew something was off about the entire thing that happened at the restaurant but you weren’t sure how to bring it up—if you even could. The guy was talking about him, and you, and what he said raised questions that you wanted answers to but Jungkook wasn't going to give them to you, especially not tonight. His entire demeanor changed even if he tried to pretend like it didn’t but you saw right through his tense face and deep, jagged breaths. It was messing with his head but you couldn’t ask him about other things so soon. For all you know, that guy did Jungkook dirty and he had no desire to open up old wounds.
Plus, you’ve only known him for a short time so why bring it up? Over time if it mattered, he’ll tell you, you think.
Jungkook dropped you off at your apartment with a kiss goodbye and a promise to call. You didn’t even have time to stall and see if he would come up to stay the night before he was speeding off with a roar of his engine. You went upstairs to unwind, wondering what had bothered Jungkook so much about the guy. He seemed to have good restraint or else he would have acted out at the restaurant but he also could’ve been acting calmer because you were there. What would have happened if the guy caught him alone?
It took him hours to get over it, and even then, he wasn’t actually. If anything he was just pleased to know he could do something about it without putting you in the middle and that’s why when he pulled up to the address he scribbled, he couldn’t help but grin with excitement.
“You found it?” Yoongi asked through his car’s Bluetooth. He switched out his bike earlier to look less suspicious and began his search for that lowlife.
“Yeah, he just got home,” Jungkook muttered quietly as he watched the shittalker, Minho, get out of his red Nissan. He left his garage open and gave Jungkook a good view of the garage door opening and closing behind him as he entered the house alone.
“You should’ve heard what he said about Y/n, hyung,” Jungkook said, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves. He called you a bitch just to see if it’ll rule him up and if there’s one thing he hates, is disrespect someone he’s with. He was supposed to ask you to be his girlfriend tonight, officially, yet here he was pulling his black hood over his beanie clad head and sliding on a black face mask.
Yoongi released a sigh, once again being reminded of you. Jungkook had been going on and on about you like a lovesick puppy for some time now and Yoongi was just waiting to see when he would act up. In truth, Jungkook’s never been in a real relationship, only short flings but he never fully gave anytime the time of day. He was always distracted and uncaring so when he started talking about you and how he wanted to be with you, it was hard for Yoongi or the others to believe it.
Now here’s Jungkook more bothered by the fact Minho referred to you as a bitch than all the trash talking he had been doing. He was about to do something reckless and Yoongi couldn’t help but support it, knowing how much his friend needed to get out of his system before something worse could happen?
What could be worse than Jungkook tracing the guy’s footsteps into his house with a brick in hand?
Who knows.
“One more minute,” his voice was low and gentle, as he whispered against your neck. His cold hand traced along your exposed waist and pulled you closer to his embrace.
“Jungkook,” you said with a sigh, reluctant to leave your side of his bed, “I’ve got a presentation at nine that I have to prepare for.”
After dinner with him, you had been home trying to unwind and call up your friend to work on the project together. You stayed up past midnight trying to finish it and when you received a call from Jungkook asking to be let up, you had debated saying no. Whatever happened at the restaurant had raised some questions but in the end, his smooth talking got him in your bed for the rest of the night.
Your words held little sway against the relaxation of your body against his and feeling the light warmth of his kisses lingering on your skin. His lips trailed down your collarbone, bunching the small top you wore to bed and to your exposed navel. The touches there wouldn’t last long before he was back to your shoulder, soft kisses decorating your skin. It felt so intimate even if it was so harmless. You turned your head to face him better and he took it as a chance to kiss the corner of your mouth gently, “We’ve got plenty of time.”
He wasn’t even asking for sex, he just didn’t want to leave your bed yet knowing he wouldn’t be able to see you all day. He locked his fingers around yours as you shook your head no, “I’m meeting my partner early so we could run through lines one more time.”
“Do I know them?” Jungkook asked, eyes looking down at yours as you laid beside him. Despite still sounding calm and relaxed, there was something off about his tone. You thought about his question for a second, debating if you should tell him or not.
“Yeah, Jimin, he was with me when you picked me up earlier,” you said as he finally loosened his hold on you enough for you to get up. He watched you leave the bed in nothing but your top and a lacy pair of underwear, making your way to your closet as he made himself comfortable on your bed.
He watched in awe as you came back out and dropped the clothes down on the foot of the bed while beginning to undress what little you wore. You carried on your usual morning routine and turned the TV on to the first thing that played for some background noise.
“Last night around 11:00pm, a neighbor heard strange noises coming from a residential area in __ district.”
“Y/n,” Jungkook called your name as he stared at the remote you tossed onto your vanity. You were slipping on a skirt you deemed appropriate for your presentation and looked at him, attempting to zip up the back on your own.
“Help me?” You asked before he could say anything else and he sat up to just that, listening to the news playing quietly.
“It wasn’t until this morning that the brave neighbor knocked on the door of Kim Minho’s place early at 6:00am, checking to see what the noise was.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Would you um, w-well, I want you to— go out with me? Like, maybe start dating, officially.”
“Officially?” You turned to him with a playful grin, shoving him back on the bed softly, “As in?”
“The 24 year old was found unconscious lying in a pile of what appears to be his own blood with blunt force wounds on multiple parts of his body.”
You made an attempt to turn to the television, finally feeling it pique your interest but Jungkook pulled you onto him with one swift tug of your skirt and said, “Girlfriend, I want you to be mine.”
“Kim has been transported to the local hospital where they attempt to bring him back to a stable condition. That is all the news we have as of now but we’ll get back to you as soon as more becomes available.”
“Okay,” you smiled, straddling his lap now in nothing but your skirt and bra, “But I should finish getting dressed.”
Your now boyfriend had an evident pout on his face as you quickly kissed him on the lips before pulling yourself off him. He watched you finish getting ready, making himself comfortable on your bed before saying, “Change the channel or something.”
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The room he locked himself into was filled with gloom. There were no family pictures on the wall or any sign of a happy childhood like yours. Instead there were empty picture frames nearly identical to the ones that adorned your apartment that he soon planned to fill with pictures of the two of you together. So far he’s only got one picture and it’s of you laying in bed together.
Your head was resting on his bare chest as he kissed your hair and took the selfie. You looked so cute to him and every time he looked at it, it would make something bubble in his chest. There’s no way for him to truly explain the depths of his feelings for you and where they sprouted from and they only seemed to grow stronger the more he thought about you.
You’re just everything he’s ever imagined and he’s not being dramatic at all. Whenever he thought about the perfect person for him he always imagined someone like you. You were the craving for his sweet tooth. If he were coffee, you’d be the sweetener.
His world has been so black and blue and finally explosions of other colors were clouding his life. No longer was he just thinking in the negative, he was thinking about the positive and how that was you. He’s decided he’ll become a better man for you, someone who truly deserves you even if he already thinks nobody else does but him.
Life has been so unfair to him and you have been the only upside to it so how could he not want to keep you for himself? You understand him, or at least the version of him he’s told you and he’s sure that over time you’ll understand the real him.
Yes, he’s been hiding things but it’s been for the best. He can’t just introduce his full self to you and expect you to be alright with everything he’s done. He has to ease you into his faults and hope that you’ll love him for him.
The first night when you asked him how often he goes to that shitty bar, he was passive. He answered your question without telling the full truth and he thinks that lately that’s all he’s been doing. When you asked him about his family… he was truthful.
His parents were loving, and he does have an older brother. Were they loving to him necessarily? He would have to say no, but you didn’t ask him for clarification. You simply asked about his family and he answered. Of course he left out the part where he was kicked out when he was 15 for getting into too many school fights. In his defense, thinking about that still hurts him.
It was obvious he’s always been a troubled kid but for his parents to just turn him away the second it gets too hard? They were fine with all those times he would steal the car or smoke behind the school building. What difference did it make when he put his hands on someone? Maybe they were upset he wasn’t more like his brother, his perfect brother.
Student council president.
Top of his class.
Accepted into the best schools.
Caring.
Jungkook could be caring. He’s proven it with you. He stepped in when you needed help, he offered you company when you were ditched by your so-called friends, he listened to every word you said with such devotion.
In the back of his mind he imagined his family, and how they would feel to know he’s finally found someone who cares about him. And yes, he’s aware his hyungs care about him but even then it feels superficial at times. Hoseok was partially at fault he got ran out of home. He was the one always helping Jungkook train and start problems when he felt like it.
But Hoseok was also the one to take him in. He’s the one to put clothes on his back and all Jungkook had to do was release all the pent up anger from over the years and win a fight for him. That’s it.
And he can’t act like it’s a burden. It’s gotten him money, and his gym studio [which wasn’t a lie], it’s gotten him opportunities he couldn’t imagine before. Plus, he’s an angry guy and it helps get it out of his system. Now all he can be is loving and sweet to the person that matters to him, you.
You were just so perfect to him and he can’t explain why.
There was a chance he wouldn’t get to see you today and it was eating at him. When he got home from some of his boxing lessons, the first thing he had done was call you to see what you were up to. You couldn’t even answer the phone because you were studying and only promised to call him when you were done. It’s been an hour now and he’s finding it hard to believe you’re still at the campus library.
As if the thought of you had magically made you reach out to him, his phone rang and he answered so quickly, “Hey.”
“Hey,” your voice sounded airy like you were exhausted, “I just got done and I’m about to leave now.”
“Really?” Jungkook shot out of bed, looking over at his dog, who lifted their head up with piqued interest, “Should I come over? Have you had dinner? I could pick something up on the way.”
“My place is a mess right now,” you admitted as you walked to the exit, “How about I come to your place this time? I’ve never been there and I want to see how my boyfriend lives.”
Jungkook looked around at his bedroom, “You want to come to mine?”
“Sure, why not, I’ll get to meet Bam and maybe get more of that homecoming of yours,” you were smiling, your playful tone making his heart flutter, “I mean it’s only fair.”
“I—okay,” Jungkook stood up, searching around for where to start, “But it’s nothing special. Are you going to spend the night?”
“I can, I just need to stop home and pack some things,” You told him, taking a right to the closest train station.
With the promise of you finally seeing his place, Jungkook grew frantic. It’s not like he lived in a dump, he was decently well off but… he doesn’t pay attention to it at all. He’s overly clean but it’s so spotless it doesn’t even look lived in. Your place was filled with things that reminded him of you. Books, vinyls, posters, even your choice in culinary set seemed exactly like you.
His place looked like a blank slate. All he had was the punching bag in the corner of his living room, the matching motorcycle helmets, and the now framed picture of you on his bedside.
When you were dropped off in front of the duplex, you weren’t sure what you were getting yourself into. The place was big with a garage below the main floor you could only assume had his motorcycle and car parked. It was clean and well kept so when he answered the door, you hadn't expected anything less. Of course you didn’t expect it to be so bare either.
“Am I getting a tour?” You asked looking around the living room to a plain black couch, flat screen tv, dog bed, and punching bag. On the entrance table were your helmets but aside from that it felt pretty gloomy. Jungkook scratched the back of his head, “Sure, uh, well you’ve seen the living room…”
He led you down an empty hall toward the master bedroom and stood at the doorway as you looked around. His lip was pulled between his teeth and he was worrying away at it the longer you looked around.
“Wait,” You walked off, sitting on the edge of his bed as you looked down at the frame, “This is cute. You need to get a look at me before falling asleep?”
“Obviously,” Jungkook tried to say with a relaxed chuckle as he joined you on the bed, “When I can’t get the real thing.”
“Well it’s nice to see I’ve made it as one of the very few essentials in your home design,” You joked, pulling him closer to the collar of his shirt, “It’s cute.”
“You're one of the few people who have ever said that to me,” Jungkook said with a chuckle, leaning into your touch and brushing his lips against yours.
“Good, let’s keep it that way,” you pressed your lips to his, kissing him softly, “It sounds so cringy to say, but I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” he said. He took you to your classes before leaving to the gym earlier but it felt so long ago. He really did miss you and to hear you say the same things to him, it did things.
“So, I actually wanted to talk to you,” you mumbled between kisses, sitting up in his bed, “I’m going out with Sieun this weekend, but I just wanted to let you know.”
You waited to see how he’d respond, if he would act upset or annoyed. Most guys tend to get jealous and possessive but you were hoping he was different. You weren’t doing anything behind his back so it’s better to know where you stand now. If he asks to go out with his friends, you wouldn’t get upset, you’re only hoping he’ll feel the same.
“Sieun?” He questioned, looking away from you for a moment. The same bitch who chooses a guy over you? The one who seems boy crazy? “It’ll be fun, and just call me if you need anything.”
His response caught you by surprise but you tried not to dwell on it, a smile spreading on your lips as you hugged him, “Thank god, I thought you were going to be one of those guys that throws a fit whenever their girlfriend goes out without them. Can we take Bam for a walk now?”
Jungkook didn’t say anything, simply smiled a tight smile and hugged you back.
He had been dreading the weekend. His friends were all on his line asking him to go out and get drunk with them but he was too nervous. He was too scared thinking about you and what you were doing to try and relax. Yoongi had to try and physically drag Jungkook out of his apartment and even that hadn’t been enough for him to ease up.
He loved going out with the guys, it usually entailed drinking, money, and some random girl to occupy his interest. Now all he could think about is where you were and what you were doing.
“Kook, come on you’re better than this,” Namjoon said as he tried to hand Jungkook back his darts, “What’s on your mind?”
“Y/n is out drinking with a friend of hers,” Jungkook said, checking his phone for any notification, “And she hasn’t called or texted me since she left.”
“Isn’t that good?” Hoseok asked with a chuckle, “She’s off doing her own thing and you’re doing your own. I’d kill to be with someone who wasn’t blowing up my phone anytime I’m out.”
“Seriously, I get about five texts from Jia everytime I’m out with you guys,” Yoongi said as he took a drink of his beer, “But I gotta say, I’m surprised you let her off her leash. I feel like lately, you’re latched to her side.”
Jungkook looked up from his phone with hardened eyes as he looked at his friend. He’s not sure what Yoongi meant by that but he didn’t like what he was possibly referring to you as.
“Whoa, careful there. Jungkook’s got actual feelings for Y/n, you can’t go calling her a bitch or anything,” Hoseok said jokingly. The two never held much respect for anyone but themselves but it never bothered Jungkook this much.
“Now I didn’t say that,” Yoongi responded with a laugh.
Namjoon watched as Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he was quick to try and intervene, “So how long has she been out? I feel like we just barely got you out of your house.”
“A couple hours now,” Jungkook said, choosing to ignore his other two friends, “She left long before I did.”
“Who knows, maybe she’ll be calling you up soon,” Namjoon said as he tapped his beer bottle against Jungkook’s, “Until then just try and let loose.”
Just as the sigh in agreement left Jungkook’s lips, his phone began to ring.
When you called him, telling him how much you wanted to see him, you hadn’t expected him to answer so quickly. All it took was for you to tell him the address of the club you were at before he was showing up in search for you. It was cute how quick he was to see you.
“You okay?” Was the first thing Jungkook asked when he found you among the mix of people. His arms circled your waist and you threw yours around his neck in greeting, taking in the musky smell of his cologne and nearly growing weak in the knees. He held you up with a strong arm as he looked around to who you were with.
“Yeah, I’m great, do you want a drink?” You asked, already trying to lead him to the bar but he shook his head no.
“I’m not drinking,” he said. He had barely drank half of one beer when you called and now that he’s seeing you, he’s decided it’s better he stays sober. You were very obviously intoxicated but not to the point where you were making a mess of yourself. He could just tell from the way your eyes glossed over and your slurred words. You called him to take care of you.
“Y/n,” Sieun called to you as she held up another shot, “One more.”
He watched you take it from her hands and down it back, scrunching your face in disgust as the warmth traveled down your throat. You chased it down with soda to wash away the taste and he held you upright. He didn’t want to sound pushy but he had to ask, “How much have you had already?”
“Not too much,” you said, leaning against him, “Five, maybe six drinks, Sieun?”
“And two shots,” Sieun said with a laugh as she looked up to Jungkook with curiosity in her gaze, “But come on Y/n, isn’t it time to finally introduce me to your new guy?”
You smiled, pulling Jungkook closer, “Right. Jungkook this is my best friend, Sieun. You might remember her from that first place we met and… Sieun, this is my boyfriend. Isn’t he so cute?”
“The cutest,” Sieun said looking at him, “You said I could sleep over right?”
You nodded your head, sniffling slightly as you blinked away your blurred vision. Jungkook held you tighter as he turned to look at you, “Are you ready to go?”
“Maybe,” you admitted, feeling the sense of nausea begin to set in.
“We’ve been drinking for a while, she might have had one too many at this point,” Sieun said to him but he wasn’t listening to her. Instead he was reading your face to see how you felt, “You want to go home baby?”
You gave a weak nod and it was all it took for Jungkook to step up. He led you out with your friend close on his trail and helped you into the front seat. He buckled you in and kept your head from rolling to the side while your friend got in the backseat.
“Thanks for picking us up,” Sieun said as Jungkook drove off, “You seem like a good guy.”
Jungkook just nodded in acknowledgment, silently driving to your place and taking your hand in his. Now that you weren’t standing and actively moving, your energy seemed to have died down. You looked tired now and he wondered if you were starting to get a headache.
“Was it just you two all night or did someone else join you?” Jungkook decided to ask. You were half asleep and he wanted to ask you instead but he was too impatient to wait. Plus, he didn’t want you thinking he was worried.
“Just us two, you should’ve joined us,” Sieun said from the backseat, “It would’ve probably been more fun.”
No it wouldn’t have. All Jungkook would be able to think about is how annoying he thought she was and it would be evident on his face.
“Next time,” Jungkook lied as he pulled up to your building. He turned the car off and walked to your side, opening your door and helping you up. When you raised your arms to him, he couldn’t help but lift you all the way to your apartment. He took your keys and unlocked your door, leaving it open for your friend to follow as he led you to your room.
“Kooky,” you whined, falling onto the bed and lifting your leg. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to help you out of your heels and get you into something else to sleep in.
He kind of liked that he was getting the chance to take care of you.
“Can you get me some water?” You asked, making yourself comfortable in your bed.
“Of course, Angel, I’ll be right back,” Jungkook said, softly caressing the side of your face before making his way out of the room. In all honesty, he had nearly forgotten Sieun was over until he was in the kitchen. She seemed to know where the extra blankets and pillows were and made her bed on the couch. She was in a skimpy dress and too tall of heels which she was struggling to get out of and looking at Jungkook, “Once again, thanks for picking us up.”
“Well I wasn’t just going to let Y/n find another way home,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as he opened your cabinet for a glass. He had already assumed he’d be picking you up if Sieun ditched you.
“You know, you’re a lot cuter than I remember,” she said with a laugh as she kicked her heels off. She got up from her spot and made her way to the kitchen as Jungkook filled your glass, “It’s a shame, Y/n found you first.”
Jungkook couldn’t stop the curl of his lips in disgust as he processed what she was saying. He looked over at her, “Meaning?”
“I just mean… you’re not usually Y/n’s type,” Sieun tried to say, her drunken speech more prominent, “I saw you that first night too.”
He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “Was that before or after you laughed when those guys called her a bitch?”
“They were joking, and I told them off after,” Sieun said, invading his space to grab a cup for herself, “But it was kind of hot how quick you were to jump in.”
Jungkook couldn’t help but stare at her in disbelief. He couldn’t believe she was trying to hit on him while you were in the other room. He was finding her more and more disgusting.
“You’re kind of a slut, aren’t you?” Jungkook asked with a slight chuckle, seeing her taken back expression.
“Excuse me?” She asked, her cocky smile gone as he insulted her suddenly.
“You. You’re a slut, right? I mean that’s what I’ve picked up,” Jungkook said with a shrug, “Why else would you be trying to hit on your friend’s boyfriend in her house?”
“I wasn’t h-hi—“
“You weren’t?” Jungkook asked, “So should I just get Y/n out here so she could listen to you too?”
Sieun had nothing to say at this point. She had in fact been hitting on him, or at least trying to see how far her teasing could go before he stopped it but she didn’t expect to be called out like this. Jungkook didn’t seem to care that she stopped and had begun to think about what was going on as he continued, “Now, if you ask me, I can’t tell you why she would want to be friends with a trashy whore like you but I guess that’s not for me to figure out. All I can really tell you is to stay out of my fucking way and don’t bother talking to me again.”
With that, he left her alone in the kitchen trying to process what had just happened.
“I think I drank too much,” you whined tiredly when your boyfriend made his way back into your bedroom. An amused smile pulled at his lips as he handed you the glass of water and sat on your side of the bed, “I’m never drinking again.”
“Okay,” he whispered, only half-believing you and smoothing his hand down your side when you groaned about a headache, “Did you at least have fun?”
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Jungkook just seemed to be too good to be true. You had never met, much less been with, a guy who seemed to have everything together the way he did and it was still hard for you to understand it. Not to mention the fact that he treated you so well and always has since you first met, it’s just hard to believe. What was his deal?
Maybe you were being paranoid and thinking that something bad was bound to happen soon but that had to be the case. Never once has anything ever worked out for you as well as your relationship with Jungkook has and you can’t let it go. You’ve been with him for weeks and he hasn’t made a single slip up.
He always texts back fast, and calls you when he’s free. He’s always putting effort to see you and just takes care of you over all. He does a bunch of little things that make your heart flutter like bringing home whatever sweet you told him was your favorite, or cooking you something for dinner when you’re not in the mood to do it yourself. He lets you pick the movie or song and rarely makes you pay unless you beg him to and he’s always showing how much of his attention he has.
He's too perfect, sure there’s still some things you don’t know about him but he’ll tell you over time, hopefully.
“Are you coming to dinner tonight?” Jimin asked over lunch on Friday. The cafeteria was full with college students and the two of you occupied a small table close to a window.
“I have to work but if I can get off early then I might,” You admitted, mindlessly scrolling through your Instagram. You looked up at the third chair beside you and asked, “Where’s Sieun? I feel like she’s been M.I.A for the last couple of days.”
“I don’t know, she probably forgot she had a project due and is doing some last minute work on it,” Jimin said with a shrug, noting her absence, “Or she’s tired of seeing you all lovey dovey when she can’t keep a guy around.”
“Don’t start with your little remarks, Chimmy,” you waved a playful finger at him, “Sieun is happy doing what she wants.”
“Yeah but that’s because it’s her only choice. Do you think if someone showed actual interest, she wouldn’t want to settle down?” Jimin asked, making you look at him skeptically. You didn’t want to talk about Sieun behind her back but he made you think.
“I don’t know, it’s not in her character, I don’t even know what kind of guy she likes,” you admitted, slightly embarrassed to say. Assholes.
She usually likes the bad guys.
“Do you think she’ll go later?” You asked, attempting to change the subject.
“Probably, Jin’s gonna be there and some other guys she’ll want to flirt with so I don’t see why she’d miss it,” Jimin said, watching you begin to pack up your things as you finished eating. He followed suit and the two of you carried your trays to the drop-off station.
You rolled your eyes at what he said but didn’t deny any of it and looked at the time on your screen, “I’ve gotta get to my lecture but I’ll see you later?”
Jimin waved you off with a goodbye, letting you run off in one direction while he took the other and left the lunch room alone.
“Where’s Y/n?”
The scream he let out was high-pitched and squeamish, he had a hand supporting his beating heart as he looked at Sieun with widened eyes, “Don’t sneak up on people like that. She left to her next class, why? You avoiding her?”
He meant it as a joke, not caring much if the two of you talked either way. He can’t count the amount of times he has to pick sides between your arguments. He usually bounces between you until one of you says something he agrees with and waits for everything to be square for the three of you to talk again. Sieun bit her lip instead of responding and that was a clear give away that you were.
“Why?”
“I mean, I’m not avoiding Y/n, like I’m not mad at her or anything,” Sieun said as she walked with Jimin, “I just… I don’t know ever since she started dating Jungkook—“
“Oh, fuck no, I don’t want to hear it,” Jimin said with a laugh, “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”
“I’m not! I mean I was, but I’m not. I swear,” Sieun confessed, “He creeps me out.”
“What do you mean?” He asked with piqued interest. Sieun let out a sigh as she shook her head, “I don’t know he just seems… intense.”
And cruel.
And brutally honest.
And aggressive.
Jimin couldn’t help but let his eyebrows knit together with confusion as he looked at her, tempted to ask her to elaborate. Before he could even think to ask her to explain, she was quick to say, “I just want to know if he’s coming tonight.”
“I don’t think so,” Jimin said, stopping in his tracks, “What’s up with you? Did something happen?”
“No,” Sieun rushed, “But I’ve gotta get going. I’ll see you later?”
Jungkook had canceled his plans tonight for your sake. He had decided to tell Namjoon he wouldn’t be fighting so that the two of you can spend time together and he could possibly bring up the thought of his fights to you. He needed to think about what he could lie about still and what you should know. If you handled the idea of these ‘sanctioned events’ then maybe you’d be fine with him doing them. Maybe you’ll want to see one live and clean up his wounds after. He was trying to think of every possible outcome before bringing them up to you.
What he hadn’t expected was for you to tell him you have plans that didn’t involve him at all.
“So you’re going out?” Jungkook asked as you talked over FaceTime. You had him set up on the computer as you sat around your part time job doing nothing but talking to him.
“Not really, I’m just meeting up with some seniors for dinner. We’re all good friends, you can come if you want. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind,” You told him, flipping through some magazine you pretended to browse. You weren’t paying close attention to his facial expression and the way it hardened.
“Are there gonna be guys there?” He tried to sound casual like he didn’t care either way but his nails dug into his palm the longer it took you to answer. Usually, he doesn’t ask you these sort of things. He always quietly accepts whatever you tell him so you’re a bit surprised.
“A few, but Sieun is going, and there’s a few seniors who aren’t guys going too,” You told him honestly, waiting for him to say something but he just stayed silent. It made you pay closer attention to him and his tensed jaw.
“Didn’t you go out last weekend?” Jungkook asked with a clear of his throat, “I was kind of hoping we could do something together later.”
“I mean, you can come along,” You tried to reason with him but his tone was slightly different. He seemed annoyed that you had plans and now you’re trying to avoid making him upset.
“Maybe I don’t want to tag along with your friends, maybe I just want to spend the night with you and no one else,” Jungkook said, his tone sounding harsher than earlier, “I didn’t realize I’d have to schedule time to see my girlfriend.”
A light scoff left your lips as you took in what he said, “You don’t, and we saw each other last night and this morning so why are you making it such a big deal that I want to go out with my friends? I haven’t seen some of them in months.”
Jungkook didn’t say anything for a moment and the longer he stayed silent, the more anxious you got. You didn’t want him upset with you but at the same time it's not like you’re constantly leaving him for someone else. He’s with you nearly every night. You talk to him at nearly every point of the day so what's the big deal that you have plans tonight? Finally, you heard him release a sigh through the phone, and muttered out, “Whatever, have fun.”
The call ended abruptly and for the first time since you started seeing him, he seemed to be upset with you.
He threw his phone down on his bed trying his hardest to not seem as bothered as he clearly was. To him it was complete bullshit and he couldn’t understand you at all. Why did it feel like he was the only one putting effort to be in a relationship? Was it his lack of true experience because he seriously thought he was doing fine. He treated you well and never got mad at you but you’re making it hard for him to keep playing nice. He doesn't give a shit about your friends and who you haven’t seen in how long. You haven’t made a single effort to meet his friends or know what he likes to do so it all just seems really fucking unfair.
Here he is trying to be a better person for you and you don’t even seem to care. Instead you would rather go be with anyone but him and. He was not just going to let that happen.
With shaky fingers, he made a call to Namjoon, and retracted his previous statement because he changed his mind. He will go and fight tonight since clearly there’s no reason for him to try and be better for you when you couldn’t care less about him.
It’s not like you could forget the fact that he was most likely upset with you now but you also weren’t going to miss out with your friends. It made you feel selfish but at the same time… you were with him this morning. He slept in your bed and maybe you should have told him you had plans that had been set for some time now but you didn’t think it mattered. He had seemed alright with every other time you were out so why was he so bothered this time around? Plus, you didn’t lie to him. You really are just going to get dinner with some old classmates of yours so is there any real reason for him to be upset by it?
“So I’ve heard you’re seeing someone, have I ever met him?” Your friend, Jin, asked over dinner. You were quiet for the most part, still thinking about Jungkook that when you finally got to the restaurant where everyone else had been waiting for you, you hadn’t made any talk with anyone. You didn’t want to be one of those people that brings your relationship problems out for everyone else to have to go through and maybe you were already overthinking it, but you didn’t want to talk about Jungkook right now.
“No, he’s uh, we met at a bar,” You said simply, stuffing your face with whatever was in front of you. Jin let his brows furrow and asked, “Is he good to you?”
”Yeah,” You said honestly. Jungkook really was good to you and its making you realize that you were probably in the wrong tonight. You should have canceled on your friend because it was so obvious that he wanted to do something together but instead you chose to be stubborn and have it your way, “He’s amazing.”
Jin looked surprised, and turned to Jimin and Sieun, “And what do you guys think about him?”
He’s always been like this, probably because he met you when you were new to the area and showed you around. He’s always had a tendency to act like an older brother with you which you were thankful for until it came to whoever you chose to date. He rarely took your word for it like you’d lie to save face of whatever asshole you’re seeing.
Jimin looked at Sieun, remembering the way she acted with you earlier. She said she’s not avoiding you but she’s made it a point to talk to everyone but you tonight and now that Jin’s looking to her, she can't ignore it any longer. He, himself, does not have much of an opinion on your boyfriend. He knows that he looked pissed off when Jimin hugged you goodbye that one time, but he might’ve dragged it on to push his button too. He doesn't have anything to say about the guy but Sieun made him question if there was something going on there.
She’s been acting strange and he wonders if Jungkook has something to do with it, but his mind goes to the wrong thing. He has to tell himself that Sieun would never do anything that could put you in a bad spot like going after your boyfriend but he cant help and wonder if that’s why she’s been stand-offish with you all day. He doesn't know Jungkook but is he the kind of guy to fool around with his girlfriend’s best friend?
Jimin looked at Sieun expectantly, waiting for her to respond and she shifted her gaze away nervously, “H-He’s cool. He seems to care a lot about Y/n.”
”So are we going out after this or what?” Someone asked from across the table, “It’s a Friday night, we should be out getting shitfaced already.”
”Let us at least finish our food, Tae, not everyone wants to drink more on an empty stomach,” Jin said with a laugh as he pushed your full plate close to you, “Right, Y/n?”
“Oh, I don’t know, I might call it a night when we get done here,” You said, checking your phone to see if you had any missed call or text from your boyfriend.
“Y/n, you can’t,” Another senior classmate, Yuna, said as she called for you, “I haven’t seen you in so long and Jinnie has been hogging up all your attention. Just one drink, yeah?”
“Her boyfriend wont let her, I bet, does he always tell you what to do?” Cai asked with a laugh making you roll your eyes. Once dinner came to an end, you tried calling Jungkook but he didn’t answer, instead the call went straight to voicemail and you were dragged out to another bar.
Jungkook hadn’t been in the mood when he got onto the fighting mats. It was obvious on his face that he didn’t care much for how to fight fair, he cared more about getting his hands on someone and that made him scarier. It’s kind of alarming how one person can affect his mood for everyone else to deal with, especially when it meant fighting someone till he felt like stopping or was dragged off of them.
That’s evidently what had to have happened. His opponent was on the ground, coughing up blood and tapping on the mat wanting it to end but Jungkook just grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him up once more. The guy made a gurgling sound, surprise making him choke on his words and fell hard with a thud when Jungkook pushed him down once more. He kept him down with his hands in tight fists until the bell rang and Hoseok was hopping over to pull him up. Once again, Jungkook was a winner.
“Atta boy,” Hoseok said with a grin as he was made winner and followed after him and Namjoo to the locker room. Jungkook was tired and annoyed that he couldn’t even celebrate his win, even if Namjoon held the stack of money he won from not only the match but the betting too.
“Are you taking us out to celebrate, big winner,” Yoongi asked, the three oblivious to how silent Jungkook has been all night.
“No,” Jungkook said as he threw on a hoodie, feeling a tinge of paid on his shoulder from one of the times the guy was lucky enough to land a hit on him. He would surely raise but it wasn’t dislocated—he doesn't think.
“He’s probably tired of us and wants to go see his girl,” Namjoon said with a chuckle, handing Jungkook his portion of the money and letting him walk off on his own. Jungkook ignored the crowds of people congratulating him and got on his bike, slipped on his helmet and drove home.
He connected his dead phone to its charger before heading to shower and wash off the grime of fighting, the sweat and blood that came with it and try to rid himself of anger too. The whole time he was fighting, he couldn’t seem to let the thought of you go. It really did annoy the shit out of him how it felt like he wasn’t a priority in your life. How it seemed like he was the last one you think about while you’re at the front and center of his. It was unfair. You were probably off sitting at a table with your friends, not even caring about him at all.
When he got in bed he hoped you’d be calling him some time soon. He didn’t want to end the night without talking to you but he didn’t want to call you either. If he called you, then once again he would be the one putting effort into talking and you wouldn’t even care. So instead, he laid in bed with his feet hanging off the bed and his bruised arm thrown across his chest.
He thought about sleeping it off and just talking to you in the morning instead. That way he wasn’t annoyed by your absence anymore and he could talk to you when he was more level-headed but that thought head been instantly thrown out the window by what he found out.
At first, Jungkook didn’t want to believe the picture that was on his screen. If he believed it then he would have to come to accept that you lied to him and that was hard for him to swallow. Maybe he was overreacting, but then he thought about the way his chest tightened, his ribs squeezed around his heart, and his insides churned uncomfortably the longer he looked at it. The veins around his forearm protrude with the force he was applying on his phone, worried the screen would crack or he’d do something to make it stop working.
He needed it to work if he wanted his questions answered. Sliding his thumb across the screen, he went back to his messages, fingers trembling as he typed with urgency.
jungkook: y/n said she was just going to dinner.
hoseok: 😬looks like she lied to u
He had to read over the words twice, three times almost as he tried to think about what Hoseok was saying. You had no reason to lie to him and you both knew it. The two of you were supposed to be working on your relationship and it isn’t good for one of you to lie to the other. It was wrong, very wrong and he did not like being lied to.
Especially not when he couldn’t understand why you would want to lie to him. Even if he had been annoyed you were going out, you didn’t have to lie. You said you were going to dinner but you said nothing about going to the club, especially not with guys around you. Is that why you lied to him? Is that why you told him you would just be grabbing dinner? So that he wouldn’t have to think about the guys you would be drinking with and laughing with like you didn’t care about the boyfriend you ditched?
You were such a fucking liar. He sent one final text to Hoseok, asking where this was and it was the last thing he did before he got out of bed to find out for himself what you were up to.
“How come we’re always the last one’s to know you’re seeing someone?” Cai asked with a chuckle as he stood with you to the side while the others talked loudly about some old professor everyone shared, “Is it because I’m old? Be honest.”
“Oh my god, no, plus you’re still younger than Jin,” You laughed, “And because it kind of just happened. I don’t know, I haven’t been seeing Jungkook for long but he’s honestly great. When you meet him you’ll like him.”
”Well why didn’t you drag him out tonight?” Cai asked, slurring on his words a bit, “It would’ve been nice to meet my competition.”
“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully. It isn’t the first time Cai has made comments like that but you always brush them off. He was talking to talk, he never meant anything by it and everyone knew it, “I should probably get going soon though, I've been gone longer than I told him I’d be.”
“Who cares, you’re with your friends its not like you’re doing anything wrong,” Cai said pulling at your arm to keep you next to him, “We haven’t had a chance to catch up in forever, he’ll be fine.”
A sigh left your lips as you looked down at your phone to see if he’s messaged you yet but there was nothing. It made you wonder just how upset he was with you and in the end, all you wanted to do was leave and go find him, “I think I should go.”
”Y/n,” Cai drunkenly whined as you began walking away but something stopped you and it wasn’t the arm Cai was holding onto you with. Just a couple yards away, your boyfriend’s familiar cold stare was directed to the person at your side and you couldn’t think fast enough. How did he know where you were? Ours not sure, everything happened so fast and that had been the last thing on your mind.
”Jungkook,” you called out to him as he stormed past you and with a closed fist, hit Cai straight on the jaw. The punch had him stumbling back into the bar table behind him and falling to the floor with a hand on his bleeding face. You cringed with shock as Jungkook kicked his side making Cai curl his body into a ball to stop the hitting but Jungkook didn’t stop.
“Stop!” You cried out, wanting it to end but unsure how to make that happen when Jungkook got on top of him and delivered clear blows to your friend’s face with a relentless amount of strength that not even Jin could put a stop to. A crowd had begun to crowd and bouncer’s were trying to make their way through but some guys you faintly remember hanging around Jungkook got to him first. It took both Namjoon and Hoseok to pull Jungkook off and even then he was fighting against their hold.
You were shaking with worry as you watched Yuna crouch down next to Cai who was covered in blood, you looked at Jungkook who was just seeing red and without thinking, you followed him out, uttering out apologies to all your friends as you did so.
”What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked him as Hoseok dragged him all the way outside.
“Get in your car and go before the cops show up,” He told him, speaking over you like what you said didn’t matter but Jungkook wasn’t listening to him.
“I thought you were just going to dinner!” Jungkook said angrily, sweat coating his hair as he yelled angrily, “Instead I find out you’re getting close with some other guy as if you don’t have a fucking boyfriend!”
“What are you talking about?” You felt like crying as you watched his friends keep him from getting too close to you, “He’s my frien—“
”Right, everyone is just your fucking friend, Y/n. So explain this,” Jungkook showed you his phone screen and your heart nearly dropped. It was a picture of you from inside the club with Cai’s arms around your waist. It had been two seconds of hi trying to get you to dance with him before everyone told him to keep his hands to himself but of course th picture made it look a hundred times worse than it was. You would never cheat on Jungkook nor give anyone the wrong idea and before this mess had happened, you were planning on leaving them and going to him.
“I tried to call you,” you attempted to say but Jungkook wasn’t listening, “Jungkook, you just attacked my friend, do you get that?”
”Oh fuck off, Y/n, why is your friend all over you when you have a boyfriend? Do you think I’m fucking stupid? You lied to me, you ditched me for all of them—“
”That doesn't mean you put your hands on someone!” You yelled back in anger, “It feels like I don't even know you.”
You thought he was sweet. He was calm and caring and although you had wondered if he was scary, you never believed it. He was always so soft it’s you but right now… right now you watched him beat your friend to a pulp and h didn’t look sorry at all. If anything he looked ready for more.
Sirens were going off in the distance, surely coming in this direction and you took a step back from him,”We’re done.”
“What?” Jungkook asked, genuinely surprised, “Y/n—“
”Jungkook come on man, you can't get arrested again,” Namjoon said trying to pull his friend back and you didn’t miss what he implied. This wouldn’t be the first time he would get arrested and it just solidified how little you thought you knew about him.
“Get off me,” Jungkook pushed at his best friend as you began to walk away from him, “Y/n!”
You couldn’t bring yourself to turn around as you headed back inside, ignoring the way he yelled out for you and looked for your friends.
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It took two days for him to do something. You left him alone outside some nightclub while he called out for you and you never turned back. You didn’t answer his calls or texts and he waited. He waited two entire days for you to cool off and talk to him. In reality, he felt as though he should’ve been the one ignoring you. This happened because you didn’t prioritize him.
Now, you’ve tried to toss him aside like he didn’t matter to begin with and that is what bothered him the most.
He doesn’t give a fuck about your friends or the guy he left to bleed out on the ground. He cared about you and how you comforted someone else while he was dragged home by his friends. And even with how angry he was at you for trying to end it with him he still gave you time to get over it. He let you ignore him. He gave you the choice and now you’re taking advantage of it. Why are you doing this to him?
“I don’t know man, it was bad, you kind of went crazy,” Yoongi tried to tell him as he watched Jungkook bench press over his weight. The two were at the gym with Yoongi trying to get Jungkook out of this mood he’s been stuck in since Friday. He had this anger in him that wouldn’t disappear and the other night he was so mad, not only at the fighting match but at the club too and he should’ve stopped him. It’s not like none of them saw the signs, it had been so obvious before the fight that Jungkook was upset. Hoseok should’ve never shown him that picture.
“I was fine,” Jungkook muttered under his breath between counting his set, “Do I not have a right to be upset when another guy is grabbing at my girlfriend?”
Ex girlfriend, Yoongi thought but he pushed it aside as he spotted for Jungkook and made sure the barbell was put back into its holder when he sat up, “I didn’t say that but… don’t you think you’ve been taking things too far lately? What happened to that Minho guy?”
“Who cares? I’m tired of these people trying so hard to ruin what I’ve built with Y/n,” Jungkook huffed, “I love Y/n and she loves me too, alright? I’ve never felt this way for anyone else and I’m not going to let these fucking… pieces of shit take away the one thing I have ever wanted. You think I want Y/n to be scared of what I’ll do? Do you think I want her to push me away? No! She has to know that I love her so much I’ll do anything to make sure no one hurts her or gets in our way. That’s it.”
Yoongi wasn’t sure what to say anymore. He would never do anything to go against his friend, he’s known him too long and knows too much about what the kid has gone through to ever turn against him but… for the first time, he truly believed something was seriously wrong with Jungkook.
“Is he really okay?” You asked Jin as he joined you for lunch on Monday.
“He’s alright, just a broken nose I guess,” Jin said to the three, “He said he’s not mad, y’know.”
“I know, but I just can’t look at him without feeling guilty,” You admitted, Cai had texted you he was alright after your dozen apologies but you haven’t gone to see him yet.
When you had gotten back inside, everyone was gone and off helping Cai up. Jin took him to the hospital because he didn’t want to deal with the cops either and Yuna and Sieun went with. The only one that had stayed behind was Jimin, hoping you’d be back and away from Jungkook. He took you home and you haven’t been able to see Cai since.
You just couldn’t wrap your mind around it. Jungkook was… he was like a stranger to you. The nice guy you had met was gone and replaced with some monster and it was hard for you to grasp.
Was this the same guy who stuck up for you when Jisoo was upset you rejected him?
The same guy who made you a custom helmet and whined whenever you left bed? He carried you home after a night drinking and took care of you without complaint. Was this really the same guy you saw ignoring the obvious egging of that stranger at the restaurant?
“I swear I’ve never seen Jungkook act like that,” you sighed, biting your bottom lip with worry, “I don’t know what happened.”
“Have you talked to him?” Jimin asked from your side.
“No,” you gasped in shock, “Obviously not, I— he’s tried contacting me but I’m not responding. He broke Cai’s nose.”
“I was just asking,” Jimin said with a shoulder shrug, “The guy’s a psychopath the way he just showed up and did that. He’s dangerous.”
Part of you wanted to deny that and say that Jungkook wasn’t dangerous at all but you can’t. You’re aware something is off about the way he acted and you couldn’t ignore it.
But he reacted so calmly when that guy at the restaurant was trash talking him. He didn’t even look at him and when you asked if he was alright, he said he was fine. How could he assault Cai without wasting a second to think it over? What made this instance different from the other guy? The other guy was actually saying things to get under Jungkook’s while Cai was just being his usual self but photographed in the wrong moment.
“Does anyone remember the news a couple weeks ago? Some guy was hurt in his own home?” You suddenly asked, “Who knows his name?”
“What?” Jin asked with confusion at the change of subject. He wondered if you were still uncomfortable talking about Jungkook and wanted an escape, “Kim Minho or something.”
Don’t ask why you suddenly thought of that but it had been at such an odd time. You had just been having dinner around that neighborhood and suddenly from somewhere around there someone was attacked. You didn’t think of it much back then but now with the way Jungkook had acted with Cai, it made you wonder.
“Alright, well I told Yuna I’d pick her up from work so I should probably get going,” Jin said as he stood up looking at you, “Are you gonna be okay?”
You gave him a brief nod as Jimin stood up too, asking for a quick ride with and it left you alone with Sieun faster than either of you realized. You talked a little during the dinner on Friday but it feels different lately, like she doesn’t want to be around you. Even when Jungkook attacked Cai, she didn’t message you and only tagged along when Jimin made her. It was strange.
“So are you mad at me?” You asked her. Sieun wasn’t looking at you but at the front of the cafe window trying to avoid your stare when you caught her off guard.
“No.”
“Really? It just feels like you’ve been acting different with me lately,” you said, “Is it because of Jungkook? Because of what happened on Friday?”
“It’s not tha—well, I don’t know Y/n. Jungkook seems… he seems like a violent person,” she said to you, “A-nd he doesn’t deserve you and neither do I.”
You looked at her with a sudden racing heart, “Neither do you? What do you mean?”
Her silence alarmed you and it was hard for you to ignore the nervous bite of her bottom lip and shifty eyes, “Did something happen between you guys?”
Now was the time to tell you, while you were still bothered by Jungkook. You had no idea what would come out of her mouth but knowing your friend and her history, it made you worried to find out. You already didn’t want to see him but if something happened between the two of them you can’t imagine it wouldn’t hurt you.
Sieun shook her head, “No. No—I mean, not what you think, but I was drunk and—“
“You slept with him?” You asked, tired of the way she kept stumbling over her words. She needed to just spit it out at this point. What was she trying to say?
“No, but I… Y/n, you’re my best friend and I know what I did was wrong but I did try and flirt with him—he turned me down fast! B-but, I don’t know, he just said some really hurtful shit,” Sieun said with her head down like she was too embarrassed to admit her wrongs.
“So… you were hitting on my boyfriend while sleeping over at my house and he said something that hurt your feelings?” Your tone was cold and distant like you want to sympathize with her but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, “What did he say?”
“Nothing, I mean, he called me a slut and a trashy whore and basically told me to fuck off—understandable! I’m really sorry, Y/n, I was drunk,” she practically cried, “I don’t know, he was kind of scary and then seeing what he did to Cai…”
You didn’t say anything and it scared her. Obviously she’s well aware she made a mistake the night she slept over at your place and she seriously regrets it. She wished she wasn’t like this and she doesn’t want you to think you can’t trust her but Jungkook is intense and she doesn’t want you around him.
“Y/n—“
“I should go, I’m gonna be late to my last class,” you finally said with a sigh, raising from the table with your things and ignoring the way she called for your name. To be honest, you just weren’t sure how to take that. Part of you doesn’t want to care because of what Jungkook did to Cai and how it’s better that you just don’t talk to him again… but at the same time, you did have feelings for Jungkook. You wish you could say they disappeared the second he acted like someone you didn’t know but that wouldn’t be the truth at all.
You still want to be with Jungkook and that’s why it hurts you that he put his hands on someone you consider a friend. Not to mention what Sieun said hurt you more than you would like to admit. She’s supposed to be your friend and you know her habits but to find out she would do something behind your back to try and get with your then boyfriend… it doesn’t sit right with you at all.
And it’s annoying how much you missed Jungkook.
jungkook: can we talk
jungkook: ik u don’t want to see me but I miss u
jungkook: u haven’t talked to me in days
jungkook: im sorry
jungkook: can i come over to talk?
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Days.
He watched days go past him and you still wouldn’t talk to him. It was getting ridiculous at this point and it was harder for him to be patient. Did you seriously mean it when you said it was over? Did you think he’d just let you walk away from him and have to suffer knowing you won’t talk to him ever again?
Not once since the two of you have met did he think he gave you any reason to want to end things with him and it’s hard for him to believe you’ll end it over something like this. He was upset that you lied to him after knowing he was already upset about you going out and then you dump him like he was in the wrong?
Frankly, he doesn’t give a fuck about what happened to your friend. He doesn’t care if the two of you were close or if he beat him on the floor till he was dragged off him. He doesn’t care if the guy is suffering or if your relationship with him is cut. You are with Jungkook, he should’ve been your first priority the same way you are his. He shouldn’t have to worry about other guys wanting to get with you. He’s loyal to you and he deserves the same so how is it his fault that he reacted in such a way? The picture was enough proof that you didn’t have boundaries with the people around you and all he did was help you set them. Why are you so upset with him because of it?
And it wasn’t fair for you to ignore him and not want to hear his side of things, it bothered him more than anything. He tried being patient, tried giving you time and not show up at your door every hour but he was left with no other option. It’s been hours since he pulled up to your apartment, waiting to see what time you would get home and it’s beginning to get to him.
To be clear, Jungkook doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with what he’s doing. He’s just decided that he’s going to make sure you have no choice but to talk to him. That’s why he’s been in his car across the street waiting to see what time you’ll be home so he could knock on the door.
What he hadn’t expected was to see you walk to the entrance with a guy at your side.
He told himself not to react. All he needed to do was sit back and wait for you to be alone. He didn’t want to think about who this person was and judging by the work attire—a coworker, he assumed—nor did he want to overthink it. You weren’t standing too close to him or looking too happy talking to him and Jungkook had to remind himself that the longer the two of you stood at your door talking. He was not jealous.
Seriously.
You can talk to whoever you want but while he can’t sleep over the fact that you tried breaking up with him, you seem completely fine. Maybe his vision is skewed but why don’t you seem as affected as he does? Why is he the one feeling tossed aside? Is it because he’s always put in more effort? He continues to put in more effort. And despite it all, you would rather spend your time talking and with literally anyone but him. That’s what he was mad about.
So he sat in his car and waited for the guy to leave and all he could think about was how he would storm over there and make you talk to him and try to work things out. He was going to make you forgive him because he can’t stand being away from you or seeing you with anyone else.
When the moment was right, he got out of his car, crossed the street to enter your building, and knocked on your door.
Your vision of him through the peephole was warped but there was no denying that was your ex boyfriend and you couldn’t contain the drop in your face. For some reason, since Jungkook hadn’t shown up at your place crying for you back, you hadn’t taken him as the type but now here he was, leaning his hand against the door looking through the peephole and waiting for you to let him in.
You were stuck between inviting him in or ignoring him further but you were too curious. You haven’t wanted to even think about Jungkook because you knew you would struggle being around him but you also wanted to see him. You missed him and everything you’ve heard should make you run but you can’t just forget he exists. You don’t want to and he’s tired of letting you.
“It’s late,” you said, using little effort to turn him away.
“I just want to talk,” Jungkook said, looking down the hall with worry, “You’ve been ignoring me.”
He said it so nonchalantly like he didn’t care either way and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Because we’re not together anym—“
“Says who? You didn’t even give me a chance to defend myself, baby,” Jungkook said, circling the door handle and testing to see if it was locked.
You bit back a scoff in disbelief, swinging the door open in anger and barking back, “Defend yourself against what? I literally watched you attack my friend for no reason.”
“I know, I was out of line,” Jungkook pushed the door open, stepping in quickly before you could regret opening it and closing it behind him, “But… you lied to me. You knew I wanted us together that night and you chose your friends and then you lied about what you would be doing. I even told you how uncomfortable I felt for you to be with other guys when I’m not around and you lied and did it behind my back anyway. Do I not have a reason to be upset?”
“Then, you want to ignore me and act like I don’t matter at all and you expect me to just be okay with that?” He went on, his tone growing harsher the longer he went on, “I’m just supposed to stand back and let you throw me away when I’ve done nothing but try and show you how I’ve felt about you since the very beginning? How is that fair, Y/n?”
“Jungkook,” you sighed, hand touching your forehead to ease an approaching headache as you tried to wrap your mind around everything he was saying. You also didn’t expect to suddenly be put on blast and have to deal with the mess that happened.
“I… you broke his nose—how did you even—how’d you know where I wa—you were so angry! It was scary, I’m sorry for lying but I was going to tell you. I tried calling you and you didn’t pick up!” You stumbled over your words, pacing your living room as you tried to talk, “And either way it doesn’t mean you put your hands on someone.”
He wanted to just scream at you and tell you to forget that. Forget your stupid fucking friend.
“Y/n, please, it was a mistake,” he tried to even out his tone and sound calmer, trying a different route to talk to you and get you to sit with him at least, “And I’ll apologize everyday if I have to but please don’t leave me because of it. I—I wasn’t thinking and all I saw was some guy talking to my girlfriend and trying to get touchy.”
“It was scary,” you admitted, warily as he sat down, taking your hand and trying to guide you to sit too, “I’ve never seen you like that before.”
“I know, and you don’t know how much I regret acting that way but I can’t deal with you ignoring me either, sit down please,” he said in a soft, calming tone. You reluctantly let him pull you down, sitting about a foot away from him.
Honestly, Cai had been acting a little too touchy that night but he was supposed to be one of your good friends and you were just going to move on and play it off like his usual self. It is one of those moments where you could understand why Jungkook was bothered, you do have a lot of guy friends and clearly not all have the best intentions. Does that still give him a right to do what he did? No, but… maybe Cai deserved it a little.
He’s the one who insisted on going out for a drink after dinner. He’s the one who stayed by your side majority of the night and begged you to stay. You’re still not sure how Jungkook knew exactly where you were or what picture but now you could only assume someone he knew spotted you. Maybe it looked like you were playing him for another guy and it sucks that you can understand why that would bother him.
Cai isn’t even mad still, of course he thinks you broke it off with Jungkook [which you did!] but how would he feel to know you’re sitting so close to him after feeling so sorry for your friend?
A sigh escaped your lips as you felt yourself slowly giving in to Jungkook and felt his arms down at your waist trying to pull you even close. You were being stubborn and making it hard for him to move you but he didn’t mind putting in the extra effort, he can just see your walls beginning to break down again, “Y/n, please baby, just stop ignoring me.”
You let him pull you onto his lap and even went as far as circling your arm around his shoulders for support as you said, “Why do you know how to fight so well?”
Your question took him off guard but he wasn’t going to act phased by it, instead he took a deep breath and decided he should be honest, “I box, remember? At the gym, a-and make a little money on the side from it.”
“Is that what you do when you hang with your friends?” You asked and he shook his head no.
“No, I wanted to put it behind me but the other night I went to fight because you wanted to go get dinner,” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Y/n, I will put it all in the past if you take me back.”
“And what about what your friend said? About how you can’t go to jail again?” You asked abruptly, shifting away from him just slightly and his arms tightened at your waist, “Why are you keeping things from me but expecting me to be honest?”
“Because it’s different,” Jungkook answered bitterly, “I’m keeping things that I’m embarrassed of from you. There’s parts of me I’m too scared to show you and I don’t want you to run away from me, please. I know I have to work on things but I’ve been trying. I’ve been nothing but caring to you and I don’t think it’s fair that my past, of all things, is what pushes you away. I can’t change the things I’ve done but please, Y/n, I’ll be better. I swear it.”
You debated bringing up the Sieun part now that you’ve thought about it better but honestly, there’s nothing to mention. Obviously you hate any sort of slut shaming but she tried to get with your boyfriend. Jungkook chose questionable wording to turn her down but she shouldn’t have thrown herself at him in the first place, right? You decided you won’t stop talking to Sieun over it because as it seems, your boyfriend turned her down pretty fine on his own and it makes you want to trust him so it’s only right he’s able to trust you when you’re with guys, right? You’re going to continue to talk to Sieun but for now on you’re gonna keep her far from whoever you’re seeing because clearly she doesn’t respect you enough to stay away in her own. There’s just too many factors into being her friend or not and you don’t want to jeopardize your friendship with others because of it.
At some point throughout your rampant thoughts, Jungkook’s soft touch on your thigh hadn’t been enough to snap you out of your daze until you felt it travel higher than before.
“Think about it baby,” Jungkook said, thankful that today was like every other day where you wore your pretty little skirts that made it so easy for his hand to find where it wanted to go. Now, his rough fingers were grazing along the softness of your thigh teasingly, “How good are we together? Have I ever treated you wrong?”
You didn’t say anything, quite literally feeling where this was going and stuck between putting a stop to it and letting it go on. He placed a soft kiss against your shoulder blade, “And you’ve missed me too, I know you have so why act like we don’t belong together?”
He felt the way a gasp caught in your throat as his hand disappeared just under your skirt, teasing your inner thighs now. Your hand fell over his as though you’d push him away if he took it too far but you didn’t. You let the tip of his middle finger press against your pantie clad heat testing to see how far he could go before you stopped him. He just can’t help it, he really had missed you so much and he hasn’t been able to see or touch you in so long. How was he supposed to hold himself back when you’re sitting on his lap? If you were still upset with him, you wouldn’t even want him around you but instead he’s managed to get you exactly where he wants you and that’s in his arms.
“Because we barely know anything about each other,” you said bitterly, your back stiffening with anticipation as he teased your covered cunt under your skirt. You really should push him away.
“That’s not true,” Jungkook whispered against your neck, his other hand joined the one under your skirt and moved your underwear to the side making you let out a gasp at the sudden exposure, “I know where you grew up, what you’re studying, what you look like in the morning, what makes you upset, how you like your breakfast and… and I know the sounds you make when I touch you right here.”
To further his point along, he pressed a gentle touch to where your clit is hidden under its hood. He was pulling reactions from your body that you didn’t expect to give him anymore. There was a slight wetness between your folds now that he teased a finger into, sliding it between your labia until his finger was soaked in it. Then, he brought the same coated finger to your clit, softly pressing circles around it as it hardened with his touch. As he did all this, he kissed along your neck nearly making you forget whatever went wrong.
“But what do I really know about you?” You tried to ask between panting breaths, unable to stop your hips from slowly gyrating against his lap when he touched you with both hands, “You’re the one who has been lying, you never told me about your fighting.”
“I planned to,” he admitted, his hand sliding down your folds gently, middle finger pressing into the puddle of slick he knew your entrance was located at. With the added stimulation to your clit, he could feel your body begin to squirm on his lap and it was making his jeans tighten around his groin as he felt arousal begin to seep into his own body. “I was going to tell you everything when the right time came along, you know that.”
“Jungkook,” you sighed, either in a moan or warning but you couldn’t tell anymore and let your head fall back against his shoulder, bucking your hips to meet his hand. His touch was gentle but firm, his caress along your thigh was teasing and when his lips pressed against your neck, you couldn’t help but spread your legs just a little further.
“Yes, baby?” The length of his finger fit perfectly between your folds, massaging them each time he pulled his finger out of your wet pussy. You had begun to grind against his hardened bulge, dragging your hips against his cock while he fingered you. A low groan bubbled in his chest as he looked at your pretty face, lips parted softly and fucking yourself on his fingers, “Did you miss me too?”
You nodded your head, breathing heavily when you felt him dig his stiff cock against your sensitive cunt. The rough material of his jeans felt surprisingly good against your thighs and couldn’t help but hump against it. His lips brushed against yours, “Say it.”
“I missed you,” the words barely made it past your lips before he was kissing you, making you try and twist your upper body to reach him better and moaned into his mouth when he pushed another finger into your cunt, fucking you with both while his tongue made out with yours.
You didn’t receive much warning to the knot that tightened in your stomach the deeper his fingers felt like they could go, and with the sudden adrenaline coursing through your veins, you couldn’t control the wave of orgasm that hit you. Jungkook knew just how to curl his fingers, tease your clit and kiss your neck. It was unfair to come undone by him so easily. Embarrassing even.
Jungkook was left to think the complete opposite. He felt the way your body gave itself to pleasure, felt your thighs twitch and threaten to close. Felt the way your breath hitched between kisses and how you arch your back off him to fight against the feeling he brought to you. It made his cock jump to know he so easily pulled such responses from you, made you feel good and relaxed. Since the first time, he’s been obsessed with making you feel good.
“Let’s take these off,” Jungkook mumbled in a groggy voice laced with arousal. He tugged at the hem of your ruined panties, finally annoyed by them and pulled them down your thighs, “They’re in my way.”
You helped take them off as he began to unbutton his jeans, kicking them off along with his tight briefs that did a poor job of hiding his erect dick. It nearly peaked out from the hem and he got rid of them as fast as he could. His cock stood at attention, watching the way you had leant forward to toss your underwear aside and he couldn’t help but touch it. His hand was still covered in some of your release but it created a soft glide as he jerked his cock teasingly, “Can you sit on it?”
Jungkook had a strange way of sounding demanding while gentle, he had a way of getting what he wanted. Although you were the one to be so hesitant to even let him inside, the thought has completely left your body as you did as told. You didn’t care for protection or anything in the way, in truth you were beyond turned on and you forgot how good Jungkook made you feel.
All that talk about being done, not knowing anything about him and being scared was for nothing because you took his cock all the same. You both moaned at the raw feel of your walls tightening around his dick. You weren’t at all crazy about sex, but you had it with him often and going without it the past week and a half felt too long. Jungkook knew how to please you, he was a good boyfriend and so fucking attractive it was hard for you to care about his other red flags.
And as if someone knew you were succumbing to your supposed ex boyfriend and how his walls stretched you out, the table lit up with a call displayed on your phone. Your hands supported yourself on his knees as you sunk down on his cock, feeling the way his hands inched up your torso, yanking on your shirt to get it off you.
“Good girl,” Jungkook sighed out when you took him fully, swaying your hips to adjust to his size and giving his cock a squeeze, “Just ignore them, alright?”
You bit your lip, looking at the screen where a group call was waiting for you. It was like a wake-up call about your friends and how intimidating Jungkook was to them. He was aggressive and cruel, but was he? He apologizes for what happened with Cai, and he doesn’t care for Sieun because he’s loyal to you so where’s the real problem? It’s definitely not where he groped at your tits, bucking into your cunt with his thick cock, knowing just what pace you liked.
“Fuck,” you let out a soft gasp when it felt like his dick was reaching deeper inside you as he leant forward, making you hold onto the end of the coffee table for support. Your knees hit the ground and he knelt behind you, arching your back just a little more to feel the way your walls rubbed around his dick during every thrust.
“Unless you want them to know who’s fucking you right now,” Jungkook said, his free hand gripping at your hips under your skirt and fucking you on his cock from behind. At some point he hand flung his t-shirt off and he had a clear view of your ass under the skirt. His V-line seemed more pronounced everytime he bucked his hips into you and the veins leading down his navel seemed to throb to life with all the blood flowing to where he fucked you.
He was clearly bluffing [you think] and it made your eyes roll to the back with pleasure, arching back into him and pushing your phone further away before he got any ideas. You clicked for it to stop, struggling with the way your body seemed to jump with each thrust, and flipped it to face down.
“Fuck,” you repeated, dropping your head down, “No.”
Jungkook couldn’t hide the way his face hardened at your whispered no, surely implying that you didn’t want them to know who you were with. He, personally, didn’t seem to care if they knew he was fucking you so well that you could barely stand. What did they expect? He was patient, he was persistent and he was the only one you should be with at the end of the day. Was it the thought of your friends knowing you were having sex or the thought of them knowing it was with him that you didn’t want?”
Didn’t you want him?
“No? Why not?” He asked, hunching over your back to reach your neck, speaking in your ear, “You don’t want anyone knowing you’re with your boyfriend?”
Boyfriend.
Did you decide to take him back and forget everything else? You could fight back and tell him that he’s not your boyfriend but what if that made him stop fucking you?
Did it make you a bad friend to still be with the one guy who makes you feel things and treats you in ways you’re not used to? Jungkook knew you were close again, and he knew it would be hard to get any real response from you but he tried it anyway, knowing just what he wanted you to say, how he wanted you to say it.
“Right, baby, you’re not leaving me,” Jungkook said bluntly, fingers tracing down your side knowing how sensitive you were to any touch, “You and I aren’t breaking up.”
“Jungkook—“
“You’re not going to try and leave me again, are you?” Jungkook asked with a harsh thrust that had your head falling forward with a moan. He brought his hand to the back of your neck, trying to drag your head up to look at him. “I love you.”
Your hand tapped against the coffee table as if asking for a tap-out but he kept going, feeling how you tightened and recoiled against his cock. You were so close. So very close to cumming all over him and he couldn’t wait.
“Say you love me,” he begged, teasing you with open mouth kisses.
“I love you,” you gasped the quicker he went, feeling yourself close to snapping.
“Say it again,” he thrusted into you deeply, giving your hips no room to move as he trapped you against the coffee table.
“I love you,” you repeated with a moan you couldn’t control.
“Again,” he begged, hands falling to the edge of the table and stuffing you with as much of himself as you could take, your sudden high hitting you like before.
The words could barely form on your lips as you let go, feeling your orgasm reach your entire body. Jungkook waited, clenching his jaw the tighter your walls clamped down on him and before he knew it, he was cumming. His eyes squeezed shut with pleasure as he fell limp against your back, “I love you so fucking much, please don’t ever leave me again.”
You would think that by the way he was acting it was like you were broken up for years, not days, and it reminded you of just how obsessed it felt like he was. His need to talk to you all day, visit you all night, and get jealous whenever your attention wasn’t on him.
He was possessive and a liar but why did he care for you so gently? Why was he so harsh with everyone but you and how could you not want to give in to him?
Even as you felt his cum drip out of you when he pulled out, you weren’t worried about the failure to use protection. In truth you were a little dazed by the entire evening to process what had just happened. Your ex suddenly showed up to your place begging for you back with his dick in your pussy and stars in your eyes. Were you not supposed to give in after all of that?
“Angel,” Jungkook touched your naked back softly, “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” you said looking back at him and the way he still struggled to catch his breath, clearly as equally affected by it as you.
“Come here,” he said lovingly as he helped you to your feet, “You look tired.”
He was smug too, a smile showing as he led you to your bedroom like everything was back to normal and you let him. He washed up with you, joined you in your bed and held you while you slept the night away.
All his hard work had paid off and he was back with you in his arms and no one in the way. Whatever you might have thought about him, about him and the guy from the restaurant, or his secret fighting and how he attacked Cai went out the window. You didn’t care about any of it when you were with him.
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Everything had gone back to what he considered normal. He was spending practically every night he desired over at your place and you weren’t pushing him away. You gave up on trying to push him away and you’ve been happier ever since.
You haven’t been honest with your friends about him though, they don’t know how you’re back together and frankly, you would rather keep it that way. Cai is finally doing better but things are still awkward between you even if he says he isn’t mad. At the end of the day, he was assaulted just for being around you, even if he had been too touchy. You’re lucky he isn’t pressing charges on Jungkook and you really don’t want anyone to know how easily you took him back. It made you feel shitty but you couldn’t help yourself. Jungkook does make you feel things you’ve never felt before.
“Are you going to go get it?” Jimin asked as you searched inside your backpack for the sixth time in search of your laptop. You forgot it at home and you only knew this because Jungkook had so kindly sent you a text asking if you didn’t need it today. You were running late this morning due to your boyfriend who wouldn’t let you out of bed fast enough and left it on the counter on your way out the door. You had an online exam in less than an hour and you really didn’t want to have to borrow one from the campus library.
“Yeah, if I run I can make it back in time,” you said with a sigh as your two friends followed behind you.
“Want me to come with?” Sieun asked, clearing her throat awkwardly. Since you found out about how she threw herself at Jungkook, she’s made it her mission to get on your good side again. You could’ve easily ended your friendship with her but then you thought about how funny the situation was. As annoying and absurd as it was that she would even try to get at Jungkook, there was something satisfying to know he didn’t succumb to her flirting. Plus, she apologized and you enjoyed making her have to beg for your friendship again.
“Not really, you’ve got another class soon, don’t you?” You said, brushing it off like you were thinking about the trouble it would cause her. In reality, you knew your boyfriend was probably home early from work, probably video gaming on your couch with Bam at his feet and no shirt on. You really didn’t need that to be what she walked into. They walked you to the bus stop but you found yourself wanting to turn away when you looked ahead. You were too nervous to look at either of them but you could read it in the way that they slowed their pace, they were looking at Jungkook.
Just at the entrance gates stood your boyfriend with his signature motorcycle behind him and a baseball cap lowered over his eyes. He smiled at you, opening his backpack and pulling out your laptop.
You couldn’t hold back the sigh of relief you felt as you walked up to him still feeling nervous. You took your laptop and stuffed it into your backpack, “What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean?” He asked with a laugh, taking your hand in his and pulling you closer, “I brought it so you wouldn’t have to go back home for it. I thought you’d be a little more thankful.”
“I am, thank you,” you confessed, unable to help the way you looked back at Jimin and Sieun who stood there surprised at the sight. They couldn’t wrap their mind around the idea of you taking your violent boyfriend back.
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, lifting his head to look behind you but his vision was slightly obscured by the rim of his hat. He didn’t have to see more to understand what the problem was and he couldn't help but let his jaw clench with annoyance. He had growing suspicions and what it might be and he’s not liking it. It’s as if you didn’t want your friends to see you with him.
“Nothing, but seriously, thanks for bringing it to me. I was just about to start walking home,” you said, hoping to ease some of the tension, “I should probably go and study for this exam because I have a strong gut feeling I’m going to fail. Are you staying over again?”
“Can I?” Jungkook questioned, arm tightening around your waist, “Or are you tired of me yet?”
You rolled your eyes playfully, “You can come over whenever you want, you know that. But okay—I should get going.”
He caught you before you could let go of him and smiled sweetly, teasingly, “Can I get a kiss first?”
It was such a small favor but it felt deeper than that. His smile barely reached his eyes and he was strongly aware of the audience behind you that stared at him with worry. You haven’t told your friends and it bothers him to know you want to keep him a secret. After everything he’s done to get back with you, you want to hide it from your friends? You thought he wouldn’t find out?
“Your hat is in the way,” you said awkwardly trying to pry his arm off you so you could disappear into the library where your friends wouldn’t ask what was going on. You could feel their eyes glaring at the back of your head and seeing Jungkook was surprising enough, watching you kiss him would be unspeakable.
Jungkook grabbed his ballcap by the bill and turned it around on his head, flipping it so the bill was facing the back and the back was in the front, “Better?”
Your lips parted in a small gasp, practically drooling at how he looked. He made it so incredibly hard to resist him. This time around, he grinned, loving the way your cheeks flushed when he riled you up and without asking, leant down to catch your lips with his.
You immediately kissed him back, forgetting about the people who would soon be interrogating you and enjoyed it. When you pulled back, Jungkook was biting on his bottom lip to keep himself from groaning at the taste of you on his tongue, “I’ll pick you up after?”
“Sure,” you said breathlessly, “But I should really go now.”
“Mhm,” Jungkook chuckled looking back at Sieun and Jimin, not caring about the glares they sent him, “Text me when you’re done.”
He watched you walk away with him satisfied by the look of disgust in their faces. When he looked at Sieun, she looked a little scared, and self conscious. She wrapped her arms around herself as if to hide from the hurt his words made her feel still to this day and looked away quickly. Jimin seemed more annoyed than anything, he couldn’t stand the sight of you with Jungkook and it brought him a sort of smugness. He couldn’t take his smirk as he threw a leg over his bike and put his helmet on.
It never bothered Jungkook what anyone else thought about him anyway. He was always going to do and act the way he wanted and at the end of the day, it didn’t change a thing. You saw how violent he could be, you’ve heard what he’s said and yet you still choose him. You chose him over everyone else and that’s all he’s ever wanted.
::.
gahdamn this shit is so long 😭😭😭 damn near two months worth of writing so bare with me
NO PART TWO cause look how long this hoe is. to clarify, jk is not a good person in this fic but he’s hot and it’s fiction so who cares. I was going for something that radiated romantic dreams and fighting hearts so I’m hoping it landed 🤞
PSA: I will be posting a new Google form for my taglist soon bc I can’t access my old one and ik some of the users are inactive now but who knows when I’ll be able to do that sooooo
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions
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luveline · 3 days
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I've read your vampire eddie fic and its soo lovely I adore them being weird toghether <3 and I thought how will reader and eddie pass the summer? I totally see her saying shit like Vlad please put on some sunscreen lol and eddie be so grumpy
“It’s not that you don’t like it,” you’re saying. 
“No, that’s exactly what it is.” 
You sit down on the picnic blanket by his hip with a plate of summer fruit sweating in your hands. You’ve dotted a few ice cubes through the mountains of it, water melting, turning pink from the melon and yellow with the pineapple juice as the sun bears down.
“The sun is good for you,” you say, taking a slice of apple with green, bright rind in between two fingers. You have very pretty hands, Eddie’s thought that ever since you met, and they’re prettier still because of how you use them, you’re oh so gentle. “Just like this.” 
He won’t let you feed him, taking the apple as you press it to his lips, juice and water wetting his fingers. “The sun does nothing for me. I’m dead.” 
“Are you?” you ask, a genuine curiosity to your tone as you put the plate in front of him. Eddie, on his front, anticipates your next move before you’ve decided, not just because of his super senses but also because you’re a predictable creature, who loves him very much. Unlikely and true. “I thought you were only half dead,” you say, resting a hand by his ribs and leveraging yourself across his back in a hug. “Well, I thought you were undead.” 
Eddie is regrettably undead. “I forgot you were the expert on my condition,” he says, putting the apple slice in his mouth whole.
“Your condition,” you say, your face slotting into the back of his neck, forcing him to close his eyes and settle into the blanket, grass beneath it crisp from the heat. 
“My vampirism.” 
“Ah, I thought you meant your behavioural issues.” 
“Of course you did.” 
You don’t say anything back. Quiet, your hands slide up in front of his armpits, your head lolling heavily to one side. You mouth a word against his neck, a second and third, but Eddie can’t decipher what it is you’re saying even with his incredible hearing, can only feel the soft curve of your lips as they shutter closed, hot like a fresh bruise beneath his ear. 
Eddie nudges you to slide off of him, turning, cautious of the plate, to offer you his arm, and to see your face more clearly. You’ve forgone any of your fun makeups today, weary of the heat, all your wrinkles and lines in stunning detail under his gaze.
You lay on your side and Eddie lifts the arm that isn’t supporting him with his finger bent into a tight ‘n’ to stroke the skin under your chin. “You’re pretty,” he says, his knuckle rubbing back and forth. 
“You’re beautiful,” you say back. The hair at the nape of your neck is damp with sweat, and as you both lay there in the humidity, a bead of it races suddenly to sink into the fabric of your top. 
“You’re really pretty,” he says, ignoring your deflection —though for you, he doubts it’s a deflection at all, only a thought you’d had and spoken without qualm— in favour of lavishing you with some more love and praise. He opens his palm and touches his fingertips to your cheek, conscious of the heat, stringing the words together slow as the heavy pour of a maple tapper, “I don’t like the sun, it’s hot, and I’m melting, but I don’t think I mind it when you’re here too.” 
Your heart does a jump, to his smugness, an audible caper of your pulse. “Everything’s better when we’re together,” you say. 
He nods severely and lifts your chin just a touch, tilting his head to the side to kiss you. The pressure of his fangs is forgotten, a blood sate too far away to ignore the more nefarious longing that thrums at the centre of his chest, but overpowered anyways by practice, and desire; he’s gotten a thousand times better at kissing you, because you like to be kissed, and he likes to give you anything he can. 
He can’t pretend he doesn’t like this, either. You cover his hand with yours and wade in like a quick tide, pulling back and pushing in, like nips without the pain. Your hand slips into his hair. “I love you,” you say, “but you’re sweating like crazy.” 
“You’re sweating worse,” he says. 
“We’ll have to take a vacation.” 
“Where do you want to go?” 
“Literally everywhere cold.” 
Eddie can’t leave Hawkins. He needs blood, and there’s only one sheriff who’s willing to source it for him. But it’s a nice idea, a fantasy he won’t ruin for you. “Where’d you want to go first?” 
“I wanna go to that place with the Northern Lights. We’d never complain about sweating again.” 
You squint at him. 
“What?” he asks. 
“Where do you want to go?” you ask. 
“Anywhere with you.” 
“Well, you’d have to.” 
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” he asks. 
“I’m your only portable blood bag, Eddie.” 
He lays back on his back, covering his eyes with an arm as the other comes to rest on his soft stomach, whirl of a scar thick beneath his shirt. “Never gonna happen.” 
You shuffle closer to him. “One day,” you say, laying down next to him with your face nearly flat to the blanket, the heat of your body a palpable thickness he wouldn’t change for the world, dehydration inevitable. “You’ll give me a nice sharp kiss and that’ll be that.” 
“Never.” 
“Imagine it.” Your voice turns to a whisper. 
“Never, babe,” he says, he promises, the weight of his arm over his eyes like an iron. 
“I’ll just have to bite you instead.” 
You open your mouth and press your teeth to the hill of his shoulder, dull and wet, your breath like a kiss before you let your lips drift shut and give him a proper one. “Love you,” you say. 
“Love you, freakazoid.” He wrestles you into a cuddle he’ll regret sooner rather than later, wishing his vampirism were better at keeping him cool. He’s cold to the touch most of the time. Right now he’s baking. “But I’m not biting you,” he says into your forehead. 
You laugh breezily. “Not today you’re not. That’s why I made fruit salad.” 
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Can you write about Viking!Konig who's the leader of his clan. One time he raids a random village and meets fem!reader, who's beautiful with her hazel eyes and round breasts. Then he takes her as his wife!!!!! Ahhhhh I'm crazy about this. I'm sorry for asking too much 😭😭😭 BTW thank you for accepting my previous request ❤❤❤ love ya so muchhhhh
König is 100000% a boobie man and I will die on that hill😮‍💨 lmao, I LOVE this!!!! Don't ever feel bad for requesting. I'm having a bit of a writers block and this story helped me find my flow again🩷. I hope you're well and taking care of yourself🥰🥰
Viking!König x Reader (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, violence, naughty thoughts
1.0k word count
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You wake up from your slumber hearing the screams from your neighbors in the small village you live in. You rush past your family who is now also scrambling to their feet, your husband rushing to gather himself as your children panic. You open your door slightly to see rooftops on fire and dead bodies lying in the roads.
Quickly, you close the door and turn to your husband with wide eyes, “Callum, it’s Vikings…” Your voice shakes with fear. You’ve heard stories from other villages about their attacks, leaving nothing but death and sorrow in their paths.
“We have to run, grab the children!” Callum whispers loudly as you stand there feeling overwhelmed with emotions. Everyone always assumed this village would be safe, untouchable, but this proved them all wrong.
Rushing to your children, you quickly squat down, “We are going to have to run, as fast as you can, okay?”
The children nod their heads crying, your oldest trying to be brave for you. Just then you all jump as the door is flung open. Screaming, you turn to see three big men and an equally large woman enter your home. An even bigger man, ducks to enter your home. Your eyes go wide seeing him, you’ve heard of the giant Viking man, but you assumed he was more of a myth to instill fear in people.
Using your body to shield your children as you step in front of them, you look to your husband. Callum seems to be frozen in fear, unable to even breathe. There’s a moment where no one moves and it’s quiet other than the sounds of your children crying.
The large man has a mask covering his face, his pale blue eyes are the only part of his face that is visible in the low light in the home. He has an aura about him that could strike fear in any warrior’s heart.
“P-please leave us, we don’t have much.” You speak up, your voice trembling.
The leader turns to two of the other Vikings and speaks to them in a language that you’ve never heard before. They nod and move to my husband, restraining him. He screams and the woman hits him, making you fear for your lives more. You look up wide eyed as the tall man begins to approach you.
König sees the family before him, a man frozen in fear, three children cowering behind their mother, and then their mother… you. A small but brave woman, brave enough to speak up when her husband couldn’t. It makes him impressed, wondering what type of woman could be so bold.
König approaches you with a hungry look in his eyes. His gaze drops down to the way the thin fabric of your nightgown clings to your body. Your breasts are massive and perfectly round, nipples hard and poking through the fabric. König has always loved a woman with large breasts and a little extra. Your breasts looking so perfectly full, his mind begins to wonder if you are still feeding your youngest. Your body is simply perfect for him.
“Name?” König asks in a low voice.
“Leave her alone!” Your husband shouts, trying to protect you. He gets hit by one of the people restraining him.
“I- I’m y/n.” You respond trying to be brave.
The closer he got the more his true size became obvious. The smell of his clothes-stained copper from the blood and his natural musk filled your nostrils. You feel small as he towers over you. His eyes are still wandering your body.
“I’m König.” He says finally.
He feels himself getting lost in your eyes as he takes in the beautiful color. You gaze up at him with the most stunning sage green eyes speckled with golden brown. The most beautiful hazel eyes he has ever seen. Gently he raises a hand to your face and caresses it, leaving a streak of blood behind. Your skin is so soft to his large and rough hand. He can only imagine the rest of you is this soft.
“Is this your husband?” He points to Callum.
“Yes, and these are our children. Please, we are simply farmers. We don’t have much.”
“Hm, I see.” König takes a deep breath and looks down at your breasts again. “Are you still feeding the youngest?”
“Y-yes…” You answer hesitantly wondering what type of question is that.
That is exactly what he wanted to hear. You are not only bold, daring, and beautiful; but also soft, desirable, and can create children for him. This is what he’s been looking for, and he finds you here. Wasting your milk on a weak man’s offspring.
“Perfect, you’ll be coming with me.”
Your jaw drops stunned as you look up at him shaking your head no, “I- I can’t leave my family. My husband-”
“That man? He’s not worthy of you. You deserve more, and I intend on giving it to you. Now please Liebling, don’t fight.”
König steps to you and grabs your arm to pull you away from your children. Your husband begins to yell at König, saying that he can’t do this. He can’t just take you. Your children stand confused, not understanding the whole situation completely while the youngest cries.
“Please, don’t.” You whimper, looking back at your family as he drags you away.
“You’ll be happy with me. You aren’t a farmer's wife, you’re a queen. My queen. Now come.” König scoops you up into his arms bridal style, his fingers digging into the supple flesh of your thighs as he carries you away from your small home.
“Don’t worry, my people will let your family live.” König whispers to you as he walks. His eyes are drifting down your body. He feels the anticipation rising as he begins to walk you back to his clan’s ship on the coast near your village. He wants you in his home, in his bed, undressed where he can enjoy you and gaze into your eyes as he makes you cum. Soon.
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fromagony · 7 hours
Note
James eating regulus out and regulus breaking james glasses by clenching his thighs to tight around his head
NSFW | 697 words | tw: hints of cannibalism / cannibalistic thoughts
James never tasted anything better than Regulus.
“James...” He lifted his head to meet up with Regulus’ eyes, they were almost closed but he could still see the stars in them.
He licked his lips and tasted Regulus, There wasn't any word to describe how he tasted. Eating him out was an experience.
He gripped Regulus’ legs next to his neck, they were almost choking him but it was fine. It was more than fine. It was fucking amazing.
“Do you have any idea how good you taste, Regulus?”
Regulus closed his eyes shut, biting his lower lip, “Yeah, I do.”
“Fuck,” James said, “You are going to be the death of me.”
Regulus, who is being impatient, pushed him right back where he belonged, to his soaking wet pussy.
James’ two fingers were inside of him, pushing in and out and twisting his knuckles from time to time, to draw a moan out of Regulus.
He sucked Regulus’ soft lips, tasting his wetness and spreading on his lips. He wanted to eat him out, literally. He wanted to chew his soft folds that had been swollen because of him, he wanted to bite and swallow, he wanted to drink his cum and blood out of his pussy. He twisted his fingers inside of him again and Regulus choked on his breath, he looked up again, licking Regulus’ swollen and soft clit, sucking it like a hungry madman. That's what James was, a hungry animal.
Regulus clenched his legs around his head, compressing his glasses.
Fuck, he was beautiful, James wanted to kiss him until he was sick of it, he wanted to take apart him, and he was going to.
He slowly spread his legs and drew his fingers back, he licked his hole covered with its own wetness, and then, he pushed his tongue to taste inside of him.
“Oh, fuck—” Before Regulus can continue, James pushed his fingers inside again.
His eyes were closed, fully focused on fucking Regulus’ delicious cunt. His inside was so soft he couldn't help but want to tear it with his teeth. He was trying to control himself but it was no use, he didn't have any control over himself. And the only person he could be controlled by was busy with crying out with his choked moans.
“James, James, fuck— right there, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—”
James fucked him faster, in a way Regulus wished. And James wasn't an idiot, his only purpose was to give him a really good time.
“Oh, deeper— I want you deeper, fuck!”
James twisted his tongue inside, sucking him dry, he added a third finger, shoving in his tight hole without breaking a sweat.
“Fuck,” James breathed, “Your tight, little pussy is making me crazy. You are the sweetest, baby.”
James didn't wait any second to waste and he started sucking Regulus’ clit. Regulus was whimpering, trying to shut his mouth by pressing a hand to his lips but his voice and moans were only getting louder and louder.
James loved to see him becoming undone for him. Only for him.
“James, James, fuck— Jamie, I'm so close—”
He grabbed James from the roots of his hair and pushed his head to his cunt by full force as if he wanted James to choke on his pussy. And James would, he gladly would.
“Come in my mouth, don't hold back.”
Regulus continued to squeeze him, maybe he couldn't help it. He started shaking as James twisted and fuckingnhis finger into him, he knew at any minute he was going to start cumming, he was there with him, trying to tip Regulis off the edge. And then, he did it.
And his glasses cracked.
Even though James heard what happened, he didn't stop, he milked Regulus until he stopped cumming and filled his mouth with a delicious taste. James drank it all.
“Oh, fuck— that was… James?”
James continued cleaning his pussy and sucked every drop out of his cunt, but when he called his name he had to lift his head and right at that moment, the broken pieces of his glasses fell onto Regulus’ hips.
“Oh.”
James only smiled.
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loneliestluvr · 3 days
Text
𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 — 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 2
part 1. part 2.
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pairing: eris vanserra x archeron oc
synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.
warnings: should have added this in the last one but talking/thinking about loss of pregnancy, being controlled + used, angst, lots of description but Blair gets her lick back a bit 😛 this is also a bit of a slow burn
word count: 2.8k
taryn thinks: so this is gonna be a series and im just kinda holding its hand and letting it guide me rn, i have no planned ending at all or any idea where this is going. bear with me pookies and remember how attracted Feyre was to Rhys without knowing he was her mate please and thank you 🙏🏼
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“Eris,” Rhysand’s voice boomed in that firm High Lord tone he only ever used outside of the River House— Blair had only ever heard it once and not ever directed at her. It was that same day and argument Nesta had told Feyre about the threat to her life, to the babe’s life in her womb, when Rhys’ power had exploded and grew so loud and angry Blair had covered her ears and closed her eyes.
Eris. The name rung in her head as her brother-in-law spoke it and her mouth moved before she could think as she tested it silently on her own tongue. Eris.
The second eldest Archeron still hadn’t brought herself to tear her gaze from the male—Eris—before her, taking in every inch of his face. Every muscle ticking in his jaw. Eris’s eyes followed her mouth as she traced his name with her lips and then he finally looked away. As if he couldn’t handle looking another minute.
“This is Feyre’s second oldest sister, Blair.” Rhys continued, and something like panic lit his every word. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”
But it was almost muffled— the sound of his voice, the music and chatter behind them. Blair’s hands still neatly folded in front of her as she stood there, like there was nothing else in that marble room but her and Eris.
“Divine.” The red haired male murmured and by the way Rhys’ brows shot up just slightly, Blair figured the male wasn’t ever one for so little words.
The sound of his voice washed through her, the heat of her skin only intensifying as it echoed through her ears. She could hear her blood thrumming through her with it, like just this nearness had her body boiling. A sense she couldn’t describe pulling to him.
“Likewise.” The word was out before she could control it, like her inhibitions overtook all.
What is it that you feel, bright one? A cold, unnatural, and otherworldly voice spoke in her head. The same as always when the smoke cleared. Feminine, if Blair could tell— speaking to her as she was sucked back out of her body and it swallowed whatever words were working up her throat. Pulled right back into that unintentional irreverence. You do feel it, I can tell. Pushing me back, for this? For him— for what lurks under?
“I’m sorry for my tardiness,” Blair said, voice vacant. It was some part of their plan, but Blair had been instructed to follow along. Some quiet tucked away part of her, far in the forest of her mind, began to piece information together.
Things she’d learned simply by sitting and listening, and nobody cared about talking in front of the mute immortal who would sooner die than participate in politics or anything relating to the fae realm.
At least that’s what she thought of herself, nobody would say it. Even if that’s what she knew they were thinking. Even if it wasn’t entirely true.
Blair listened, mindlessly and absently, but what else was she to do when she sat in the quiet of her own mind day after day under something else’s control?
She tilled the soil of her mind, planting and working and tending as she sat and listened. Took in every piece of information that seemed so little to whatever she had become after, tucking it away and into her pocket.
But she never participated, couldn’t seem to ever make her mouth move. Could only sit and look out the window as everyone moved around her.
“Nonsense, sister.” Feyre smiled lovingly, the image of a shining star with the way her barely there gown accentuated her growing belly. “You’ve come just in time.”
As if on cue, a soft melodic music that sounded like the forest’s calm embrace started playing. Forest’s that Feyre and her had frequented in the summers when the younger of them was just hitting maturity, welcoming and lovely. Soft and slow, serene. A moment of peace in a world of pain and anger.
Blair took another breath and turned her head to the dance floor, it was her again this time as she spoke so softly it was almost unheard, “I love this type of music.”
“You’d like to know, Eris, that Blair is of the same talent our dear sister Nesta possesses. One that you seem so keen on having her hand in marriage because of.” Feyre says, but Blair’s eyes remain glued to the floor of people dancing so slowly. Seamless in their waltzing, her body almost began moving by itself— fighting every muscle in her to stay present in conversation as she slowed back into her body.
A rage filling some now faraway part of her, screaming and clawing and fighting to push her back again.
But this moment, this day, had been the most lucid she had felt in over a year— like she was waking up and blinking the fog away. Blair could hear clearly, and think, she could see from her own eyes, she was herself then. She was her own.
The reveal of another Archeron sister was not something that Eris had anticipated for. Certainly not something he’d prepared for, he had never let himself become so raw in front of anyone, let alone those of the Night Court.
One look at her… one gaze into those amber flecked eyes and his entire mask had shattered. For a minute too long he had just… stared at her.
Blair. The name danced around in his head, he could see it scripted on pages with a light hand. Those delicate fingers dragging the quill into a mess of curls and lines, her beautiful name printed in his mind. Blair.
“I’m almost certain at this point only beauty comes of your family, if Nesta was that graceful on the floor I can only imagine any of her sisters being equally as talented.” He said without another second, gaze now fixed wholly on the High Lady of the Night Court despite the pounding of his heart in his ears.
“Nesta continues to be… occupied.” Feyre added, almost ignoring any of his ploying compliments and Eris didn’t miss the whites of Rhysand’s knuckles showing as he clutched the arms of his throne.
And it was true, the Illyrian brute that had swept away his hopeful bride had passed her to the aggravating shadowsinger. Eris would not get her back again, not tonight.
“Perhaps my sister Blair would like to join you in a dance or two?” Feyre said next, the question directed for the female next to him.
Something in his chest felt like it would cave in and Eris thought he could have been floating just being next to her. The soft brown of her hair that went almost to her waist, even with it half up in a mound on the back of her head.
Accentuating those beautiful features under the light, lips pronounced and eyes that guttered all the need for dominance from his soul. His mind screamed: Kneel, kneel before your queen and beg to touch her. To smell and taste and feel, to know.
“Blair?” Feyre’s voice rang through his ears again and Blair had seemed like she was so enamored by the music, by the need to be with it, she hadn’t heard the question her sister asked. Then her head turned back to the thrones on the dais.
“I’m sorry,” She said quickly, furrowing her brow slightly as she tuned back in. “—what was it?”
“Perhaps you would like to join Eris for a dance?” Feyre clarified again and she looked from her sister to him, nearly next to Eris and stared for a moment.
“It’d be my honor to dance with the son of a High Lord.” She said, a small smile blooming on her lips.
By the confusion that seemed to broadcast on the High Lord and Lady’s face, Eris figured that Blair Archeron had secrets of her own. That just maybe, like him, she was undermined and looked over in aspects she shouldn’t be.
Eris stepped closer and offered his arm almost mindlessly, eyes tracing every curve of this smart and quick creature’s face. And Blair took it as that song faded out and the crowd prepared for the next one, the cold of her fingers seeped through the fabric of his tunic sleeve. Icy and bitter despite the warmth that flourished on her cheeks, and she let Eris guide her to the floor.
Blair could breathe. She could feel the race of her pulse, however immortal, she could feel the air on her skin and the warmth beneath Eris’s sleeve as she touched him. It felt like her body was on fire— awake.
Eris Vanserra— High Lord of the Autumn Courts eldest son, she had remembered. It had been like a splash of warm water, it had felt good. Different.
Rhys and Feyre’s ramblings about him, about their trades and need to stand against his father. Their effort to sway him should war find Prythian again, Azriel’s updates as she sat in the living room. Absent.
But that fog had cleared, and here she was. Preparing to dance with him. And everything came back screaming.
It was quiet as they prepared for the song to begin, Nesta and Azriel on the other end of the marble floor.
And then the music began and Eris arm wrapped around Blair until his hand laid on the small of her back, fingers of one hand each entwined as they stared into each others eyes.
It wasn’t that Blair couldn’t think or feel it, but her body moved absently off of memory alone as the dance began. Graceful and smooth, gliding as Eris guided her through the movements.
Spinning and twirling and whirling, she could only look at him as they moved. They did not speak, just danced and eyed each other.
Something charged went through the air between them, the close proximity of their bodies, and Blair wanted to know it as equally as Eris. Wanted to welcome it.
He smelled of spruce and warm honey, mahogany and citrus, flames and burning coals. Blair swallowed it down, drank it in and almost closed her eyes from how strong it was.
The pads of his fingers were rough, felt scarred as they held the small of her back and her own soft fingers. The freckles on his skin were similar to hers but brighter, a hue of ginger rather than her umber shaded spots.
And where he touched, across her waist and now one of her hips, burned.
The feeling like a fire, warm and welcoming and home, spilling into her veins like hot oil. And then Eris was dipping her, their faces a mere inch apart and Blair’s lips parted in a breathy gasp.
His eyes watching those perfect lips, trained on them as they stood like that. Dipped over and under one another, Blair’s leg hooked over his hip like she would fall.
But something in those pointed eyes, cunning and lethal, told her he would never let her go.
“Where have they kept you?” Eris asked finally, and brought her back up to a stand as they began again.
“A female is nothing to be kept.” Blair responded as easily as their dancing continued. Reminding herself of the proper terms fae used. “I have heard of how backwards Autumn can be, though. Perhaps that is your way of thinking?”
“You were not there for the war.” It was not the statement he made it, a rephrase of his first question. And he did not scold her for the jab she shouldn’t have made, supposed to be swaying and wooing but instead bit at him like a ravenous dog. “Nobody talked of a fourth sister.”
“I hadn’t realized I owed my life to the Court’s of Prythian or it’s people.” His hands left her body and trailed to the tips of her fingers as she spun out and when she returned his hold was firmer but he smiled, wicked and beautiful. “What?”
That look in his eyes, she couldn’t place it. And her voice held more venom than she intended, despite how soft and sweet it may have sounded aloud.
“You intrigue me, Blair Archeron.” He said and pushed her out again, her dress spinning out at the bottom as she twirled and came back to him. Pressed against his chest, one hand on the back of his neck and he might have shivered. “Trust the most beautiful of your sisters to be the smartest.”
“We’ve shared mere words, what are you basing my intelligence off of?”
“A feeling.”
“A feeling?” She repeated. He nodded and then she was keenly aware of where his hands were, trailing to the base of her own neck— close enough to be courting. More than that.
“Tell me,” Eris started, beginning a box step procedural that she followed. “—have they tucked you away out of fear of what you could become, or fear of what they could lose?”
“Who’s to say I’m not the one who chooses to stay away?” Eris’s eyes glittered with a need to know, like he wanted into her mind to see all of that intrinsic astuteness shrouded by firs and spruce. “Who’s to say I wanted to be a part of this life at all?”
“I offered to give them armies in exchange for your sisters hand and they bring you in.” He states as the song comes to an end and another starts. A rapid tempo, fast and harsh. Mostly string instruments, dramatic. “Why?”
“I was late,” Blair corrects, one hand holding the back of his neck as the other is gripped in his. Larger, muscled, and firmer than Blair’s delicate, soft, and teasing hand. “—you must be a terrible listener.”
Amusement lit Eris’s eyes as he held an arm around her waist, fingers brushing her ribs.
“Did they keep you away because of your mouth, then?” He crooned, their bodies moving seamlessly to the upbeat music. Stepping and spinning all at once, matched with the other pairs of dancers on the floor.
“What of my mouth?”
“What of it, indeed.” He smiled, eyes flicking to the rich ridges of her garnet colored lips. Blair’s cheeks heated and for the first time her eyes flicked away from his face. Anywhere but him as they landed on Azriel and she almost breathed in relief when she found that his eyes were already on hers.
A silent question in them and Blair blinked softly in response.
“Would you believe me if I said the second I saw you, I forgot about Nesta completely?” Eris whispered into her ear, lips brushing against the hair that curled there. So close she could feel the heat of his breath, like a flame licking her skin.
She cursed the part of her that wanted to feel that heat in other places and shoved it down. She looked back to Eris, noses nearly touching with the proximity this dance required.
“And what if I am already spoken for?”
Questions, so many questions with him. And Blair just fed them back as if the answers were in the questions themselves, a proper response unneeded.
“Are you?” His brows raised.
“No.”
It was simple, nothing further needed and she didn’t understand why she cared to tell a male she had met mere minutes ago that she was available. The first other than Rhys, Lucien, Azriel, Cassian and the blonde male she had set her eyes on since coming here. Since being forced here.
“They must do it to you all then.” Eris said, smile fading into a tighter one as he saw that look in Blair’s eyes. “Dwindle your flame, drown it out, waste you.”
“My sister and her mate have been gracious to me in my… adjustment. I have nothing to complain about, and certainly nothing to waste.”
Eris shook his head so barely as they spun Blair almost didn’t catch it, disbelief in every beautiful crook of his utterly handsome face.
“All of you is wasted, my dear Blair. They are blind if they cannot see what lives inside of you, your fire, whatever that power is and whatever you are now.”
Perhaps it was because Blair didn’t even know what was inside of her, why her chest warmed on its own for the first time in over a year just now, but she didn’t say another word.
When the music ended, she bowed before Eris as any graceful courtier would— a dismissal on her part before she stepped back and allowed for him to bow in return.
But he did not, and only stared at her as if he couldn’t—wouldn’t—bring himself to say goodbye. We are not done playing, Blair Archeron, was what his eyes added as Azriel swept her from the floor and the room all together.
His eyes followed her the whole way and that cold returned as soon as she left his line of sight.
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🏷️: @prythianpages @impossibelle @readychilledwine
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veronicaphoenix · 2 days
Text
THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR — PART VII
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Pairing: samurai/ronin!noah x fem. reader | Words: 11.5k
Chapter tags & trigger warnings: tiny bit of sexual content at the beginning, fluff, subtle talks of dom/sub dynamic, mentions of bondage, torture, nightmares, anxiety, mentions of underage sexual experiences, blade to throat, death threats, blood, mentions of supernatural forces, mentions of Noah having killed people before (sorry, he's a samurai, after all), mentions of pregnancy, angst, cliffhanger at the end whoops. so many things, i'm taking this fic very seriously no joke
Author's note: okay everybody, i've done a bunch of research for this fic and I love learning about different cultures and expanding my knowledge about the world, but the entire thing is obviously historically inaccurate (not that this is exactly a historical fic but anyway), also I don't think people wore sweatpants in feudal Japan, but I can't picture Noah not wearing them, so here you go, a samurai wearing sweatpants. 🤭 I haven't done a second review to check for any last typos or mistakes, so I apologize for that.
Additional useful info: - Kami: japanese word for a deity, divinity, or spirit. - Yakuza: individual involved in criminal organizations, thought to have descended from gangs of ronin (masterless samurai) - Rei and Ren are two different people in the story. Rei we like, Ren we definitely do not like.
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THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR 
PART VII
Waking up to Noah’s serene form beside me felt like a blessing. 
         His peaceful slumber was a sight I’d seen many times in the dark, when he slept by my side and I sacrificed my own hours of rest just to watch him, knowing that with the dawn, he would be gone. 
         But this time, watching him held a special tranquility. His young features, usually marked by a furrowed brow, were now softened in repose, free from the burdens of worry that plagued him even in sleep. 
         During the night, his rest had been disturbed, his subconscious grappling with the lingering echoes of the past few days. Despite the idyllic surroundings we found ourselves in, a part of him remained tethered to the fears and uncertainties of our choices. His dreams were plagued with scenarios of what could have happened days ago, before escaping from my father’s estate. At one point, he tossed and turned so fervently in bed that he flung the sheets off his body. A thin layer of sweat covered his forehead, neck, and chest. 
         Now that morning had unfolded, and sunlight streamed into our modest dwelling, I found myself drawn to Noah’s profile, his beautiful lines illuminated by the gentle glow. Even while sleeping, his features exuded a captivating allure, making him look even more handsome than he already was. His shirt had shifted during the night, when he found himself trapped in a nightmare, and a glimpse of his abdomen was now revealed to me alongside the scars that marred his warrior skin. A pang of sadness washed over me at the reminder of the trials he had endured, being born into a family of Samurai where the path of battle was but an unavoidable destiny. 
         My eyes shifted from one ugly scar under his left pectoral to the tattoos adorning his skin. 
         Noah’s fascination with tattoos had always intrigued me, especially considering the strict code of the Samurai that forbade such adornments. Samurai detested tattoos. Yet, Noah had received his first one at the age of eighteen, during a chance encounter with a group of ronin on the outskirts of the estate. I remember him recounting the tale to me with a mix of trepidation and wonder, describing how he had nearly fled at the sight of the masterless samurai. Yet, he found himself drawn to their stories and the reasons why they had decided to break the Bushido code and now lived in the shadows. A ronin had been the one to ink a small dragon onto Noah’s skin, unaware that Noah would become one of them years later. As he showed the tattoo to me and I traced the red and blue lines with my fingertips, I became aware that he would have to keep it hidden. It terrified me to know what my father would do to him if he found out Noah had stained his skin. 
         This morning, my fingers traced the same path, sliding down gently from the head of the dragon to its ferocious tail. Noah stirred slightly beneath my touch, though he remained slightly lost in his sleep. I shot a wary glance at his face, and as soon as I saw his eyes remained closed, I moved my fingers to his navel and down, towards the line of hair that descended and disappeared under the waistband of his pants.
         He whispered my name, a gentle protest.
         “Stop that. It tickles,” he mumbled, his voice coarse.
         His words only triggered me to continue my tracing, which made him open his eyes and, in an instant, he had flipped me onto my back, his grin infectious as he pinned me beneath him.
         The unmistakable hardness of his morning erection didn’t go unnoticed to me as it pressed against my hip.  
         “Good morning,” I said quietly, but even with my sweet voice I couldn’t hide my intentions. Noah narrowed his gaze on me, his fingers moving a few strands of hair from my face. 
         “Good morning,” he replied. “Someone had a good night’s sleep, I see.”
         As soon as he said that, I subtly arched my hips, seeking out some friction. Noah’s eyes darkened. With one hand on my hip, he kept me pinned to the mattress, but I was feeling feisty enough and I slid a hand down and inside his sweatpants, making my way beneath his underwear and wrapping my fingers around his hard, thick length. 
         Locked in a silent exchange of desire, Noah’s eyes bore into mine, a vein beginning to pulse on his neck. Just as I was poised to take things further, to pump him once, laughter from outside shattered the moment, snapping us both back to reality. 
         Noah immediately flipped back to his side of the bed, both slightly breathless and eager for the privacy we had momentarily lost. We turned our attention towards the balcony door, our sanctuary now breached by the intrusion of the outside world. 
         We had no idea what time it was, but suddenly we were very aware of the noise outside, the chatter of voices, the chirping of birds, the occasional deer call, and the distant clucking of chickens. I was momentarily disoriented. 
         As the chaos settled around us, a sense of clarity began to emerge. 
         We were far from home, —or what home had been—. We were nestled in a humble abode offered by a community we had only just discovered. Surrounded by life in all its vibrant forms, if we got lucky enough, Noah and I could dare to hope for a future together in this place. The laughter of children drifting away outside made me wish with all my might that the opportunity came to us and all the dreams I had with Noah became a reality. 
         Despite the realization that we still didn’t have the privacy we would like, I wanted to embrace this new reality. To wake up to the symphony of birdsong, the joyous laughter of children, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze—these simple pleasures whispered promises of a life yet to be lived. 
         After composing ourselves and tending to the necessities of the morning, I ventured out onto the porch, greeted by the sweet fragrance of nearby flowers and the soft caress of the morning breeze. In the distance, I spotted Rika and Milla’s children, their playful antics adding a sweet touch to the warmth of our new community. 
         Near the door, a package caught my eye, it’s presence a tangible reminder of the kindness that surrounded us. Attached to it was a tag bearing Rika’s name. With a grateful smile, I carried the package inside, closing the wooden doors behind me. 
         As Noah caught sight of me, a softness settled over his features. I could tell he was still living in the short moment we had shared in bed as we woke up.
         I carefully read the note attached to the package in my hands,
         “I thought these clothes might be useful for now. I hope they fit you. I used to wear them before I got pregnant with my first child. There are some from my husband that might fit Noah. 
Rika.”
         Surveying the contents of the package, Noah selected a pair of black trousers and a matching tunic, securing his katana at his waist with a belt of the same color as he finished getting dressed. Meanwhile, I found myself staring in awe at the array of dresses Rika had offered, each one an affirmation of her generosity and kindness. 
         After much deliberation, I chose a delicate white summer dress adorned with tiny blue flowers, its charm a contrast to the uncertainty of our circumstances. But as I held it in my hands and examined it, a sense of determination flooded me. I wanted this to work, and as silly as it sounded, I considered that, by wearing a cute dress, I could give it a start. 
         However, as I struggled with the intricate straps at the back of it, a sense of frustration took over me, and I found myself longing for the assistance of the maids back at my father’s estate. 
         Noah appeared behind me. In a heartbeat, his hands covered mine, his touch gentle yet confident. 
         “Let me,” he murmured, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet of the room as I dropped my hands. 
         With practiced ease, he skillfully tightened the straps and tied a knot. I held my breath, acutely aware of the precision in his touch. 
         His proficiency with ropes, honed through years as a samurai, carried with it a weight of history and pain that lingered beneath the surface. 
         I had witnessed the anguish that haunted Noah’s eyes on those nights we spent entwined beneath the covers, grappling with demons of his past. The torment of inflicting pain upon innocent prisoners that had been tied up with ropes in impossible ways weighed heavily upon him, a burden he bore with a heavy heart. And in those moments of darkness, I knew that I had to find a way to replace the agony with something else. I might not be able to make it disappear, but I could help him deal with it in a different way, build a new memory related to that bondage he was meant to perform on those people considered traitors.  
         The first time, many years ago when I asked him to tie me up, his horror at my proposal was obvious, and his refusal resolute and unwavering. He got very upset, and I didn’t insist any further that night. But I refused to be deterred, though, and patiently waited for the opportunity to convey the depth of my intentions and why I believed it could help him. 
         “I’m not asking you to hurt me,” I whispered. “I’m asking you to show me how much you’re capable of loving; to show me that by being completely at your mercy, I’m safe; that beneath the warrior lies a man of compassion and tenderness; that despite everything, you’re a man of good heart.”
         It was a gradual journey, fraught with a lot of uncertainty and hesitation. But as Noah discovered the profound emotional bond that the bindings on my body provided, there was no turning back, and soon I found myself bound and completely subjected to him in bed, feeling every one of his touches more intensely than ever, every kiss he placed on every inch of my body more devoted than the last. 
         The restraints provided by the bindings seemed to ignite the rest of my senses, making my skin tingle and increasing my ability to feel and understand that Noah was mine and I was his. Never, not once, did I fear him. That confidence toppled the last ounce of insecurity that remained in Noah, and since then, we knew that we wouldn’t be able to live without each other. 
         With Noah, I found a sanctuary where submission was a choice made freely. It had nothing to do with the control that defined my life and that I hated. With Noah I could be honest, and I could submit without fear. And Noah, despite not being able to escape the expectations of his samurai heritage, despite not being able to rid himself of that part of him that yearned for control and dominance, he embraced it when I was in his arms. 
         When we were with each other, the dynamic was wonderful, and there was no moment when we felt more united than when I let go, surrendered to his mercy.
         As I turned around and thanked him for tying the straps of the dress, I noticed that his eyes had darkened, and I understood that the same thoughts had been crossing his mind as he tied the ribbons.
         “Beautiful”, he murmured, but more than a sigh, the way he pronounced the word resembled a growl. 
         With a sheepish smile, I tiptoed to kiss him, my hands pressed against his hard stomach, and for a moment I damned that a few more moments alone together, in that comfortable bed that had been offered to us, had been stolen. 
         I’d had Noah inside me a couple of days ago, but still, the ache of missing and wanting him was too potent.  
         Noah parted his lips to kiss me deeper, but a growl from his stomach interrupted us. A hint of embarrassment colored his cheeks as I laughed.  
         “I’m hungry,” he said.   He traced a strand of hair that fell across my face, his fingers falling to my neck and caressing it in a tantalizing caress. “I could eat you.”
         He leaned in to feign a bite at my neck, prompting me to laugh louder. I squirmed under his touch, laughing and letting out little squeals.
It wasn’t as late as we initially thought. When we left the house, traces of dew still lingered on the plants, and some moisture collected on the stone paths. 
We walked to the main dining hall, warmly greeting the people who recognized us from the previous day, exchanging good mornings with a wave of the hand or a polite nod. In the dining hall, much like the night before, there weren’t many people, but the same woman who served me dinner the previous night was there, delighted to see me in good spirits and well accompanied.     Noah and I had breakfast in silence, occasionally glancing around, absorbing the details of the place and familiarizing ourselves with the community’s routine. The woman serving the food assured us we could eat as much as we wanted, gesturing with her arms to indicate the abundance of fresh fruit baskets, cereals, and other hot delicacies piled up on a long table at the opposite end of the hall. 
I was finishing a cup of hot tea when an elderly couple, around eighty, perhaps,, approached us very slowly, delicate smiles on their wrinkled faces. I exchanged a cautious glance with Noah, unsure how to greet them, whether we should stand up, or if we should stop eating. As soon as Noah made a move to rise from the bench, the woman gestured with her hand and shook her head, then gave him a couple of gentle pats on the shoulder. The encounter didn’t go beyond that.     
Not long after, when Rika appeared on the porch leading to the dining hall, she informed us that they were the oldest couple in the community, residing at the top of the hill at the back end of the village, just behind the temple we had seen upon our arrival the day before. They were very quiet and reserved people, and being older, their community tasks had already ceased, and now they spent their time strolling around the village, helping just in whatever way they could and warding off evil spirits. 
“They are very wise people,” Rika told us. “If you ever need advice or help, you’ll likely find them at the temple. They take care of keeping it clean and orderly, and often perform rituals for the well-being of the community.”
We were leaning on the veranda of the porch when Rei, the man who’d led us into the village the day before, approached. He greeted Noah warmly and apologized to me for not including me in his tour yesterday, to which I replied that it hadn’t mattered and that I appreciated their concern for me and letting me rest. 
I hadn’t finished talking when a gentle brush against my thigh through the porch bars drew my attention, and as I turned around, I was met with the sight of a curious deer lingering near the porch. Its innocent gaze and delicate features captivated me instantly, and unable to resist it, I walked off the porch and onto the stone path, approaching the creature with a mixture of fascination and wonder.
As if sensing my presence, the deer remained still, showing a genuine trust toward me that warmed my heart. Noah, Rei, and Rika observed from the porch.
“They’re quite friendly,” Rika said, her voice carrying a sense of tranquility that matched the peaceful surroundings. “The children love playing with them.”
Indeed, as soon as a group of children noticed me petting the deer, they joined in, their laughter filling the air as they frolicked alongside the gentle creature. It was a scene of pure joy and innocence, a stark contrast to the hardships Noah and I had faced in recent days. It was hard to believe two days ago we had been sleeping in an abandoned and ruined cottage in the middle of nowhere, with barely any food nor water. 
As the children gathered around, their eyes wide with wonder, I knelt down beside them, the soft breeze carrying the scent of pine and earth.
“Did you know that deer shed their antlers every year?” I began to explain, my voice soft yet animated. “They use them for protection and to attract mates.”
The children listened intently, their fascination evident as they hung onto my every word. I had always been fascinated by animals, my knowledge about them being nurtured by years of education and exploration. Close to my father’s estate there was a deer sanctuary, a haven where Noah and I met each other on numerous occasions, allowing the creatures to bear witness to the blossoming of our love. “Really?” one of the children exclaimed, their curiosity piqued. He must have been four or five. His cheeks were full and his eyes a sweet light brown. “So, does that mean they have new antlers every year?”
I nodded, delighted by their enthusiasm to learn. “That’s right! In the spring, new antlers start to grow, covered in a soft, fuzzy layer called velvet. And as they grow, they become stronger and more durable.”
The children exchanged excited whispers among themselves, their eyes shining. 
Rika watched from the porch, her eyes twinkling with pride at the scene unfolding before her. 
“You’re wonderful with children,” she noticed. 
I glanced up at her, and just uttered a simple “thank you”, not knowing what else to say to that. When my eyes diverted to Noah, I caught his gaze fixed on me with a newfound intensity. It was as if a sudden realization had dawned on him, a silent acknowledgment of the future we might share together.
Before he said anything, Rei interjected, “It’s very hard to keep them still these days. The children, I mean. All they want to do is run around,” he said. “You seem to have a knack for handling them,” he remarked, his tone gentle yet inquisitive, and then, “Noah told me you’re very skilled at archery.”
“A little,” I replied, somewhat confused at the change of topics. 
“She’s very good,” Noah corrected, emphasizing his words with a nod of his head, his words flooding my mind with images from the time I showed Noah my skills and he had been shockingly impressed. I had been sixteen at the time, and I had been able to shoot a 25lb light bow straight into my aiming point at a distance of ten yards. 
“My father wanted me to train in the art of archery from a young age,” I explained, with a hint of bitterness in my voice. Talking about my father would always put me on edge after the events that had just transpired. 
“You could continue your training here, or if you prefer, you could teach the children,” Rei suggested as the deer at my side fed on some grass growing between the stones. “It would be nice to have someone else to instruct them. The current instructor is getting too old for it.”
“Oh. Um—I don’t know,” I was not expecting such proposal less than twenty-four hours since we’d set foot on this place. “I’d have to think about it. I don’t think I’m good enough for that.”
But Noah’s raised eyebrow told me I didn’t have to be so modest.
Rei continued, “I think they would benefit greatly from your experience and guidance.”
“It would be great,” Rika added. “My husband has always wanted our son to learn how to use the bow.”
Rei insisted, his voice soft but filled with conviction, “the children of our community are always eager to learn new skills. I can’t help but think that, if you’re as good as Noah says, your expertise in archery would be a valuable asset to them, honestly.”
His words sparked a flicker of excitement within me, “You really think so?” I asked, apprehensive.
“Absolutely,” he affirmed, his voice steady and sure. “If you have a gift, the children would be lucky to learn from you.”
But alongside the thrill of possibility, a wave of self-doubt came my way, threatening to extinguish the flame of enthusiasm. What if I wasn’t good enough? What if I failed to inspire the children, or worse, disappointed them? I had never really spent that much time around children, much less teaching them something. Archery was a challenge, far from a simple task. It demanded perseverance through frustration, disappointments, and physical exhaustion. 
But as I looked up at Noah again, I saw his unwavering faith in me reflected in the depths of his brown eyes. I found the courage to push aside my doubts and embrace the opportunity before me. With a determined nod, I made up my mind to seize the moment and trust in the strength of my own abilities.
The idea was certainly appealing, and teaching archery to the children would not only allow me to share my skills but also contribute to the community in a meaningful way, something totally different from the future that had waited for me at Ren’s estate if I had married him…
“Well, I... think I would like that,” I concluded.
As we continued our conversation, Rei proceeded to explain in detail how the community worked to sustain itself. Each member contributed in their own way, whether it was teaching skills like archery, gardening, tending to the harvest, fishing, construction, preparing food, or other subjects more related to history, mathematics, and literature. It was a system built on mutual support and cooperation, where everyone played a vital role in ensuring the community thrived.
Rika, sensing her duties calling, excused herself with a warm smile, suggesting that Noah and I explore the town market later. “It’s a lovely place and not far from here,” she added before walking away towards the northwest side of the village. “You can buy anything you need there.”
Following Rei’s lead, we made our way to the Samurai training grounds, where he proudly showed us the disciplined regimen of the warriors just as he had showed to Noah the day before. The purpose of teaching combat wasn’t the same as the one imposed to those born into a Samurai lineage like Noah. While Noah and his kin were bound by duty to bow to authority and dedicate their lives to the service of war, the kids and youngsters that engaged in combat training here at this place did it with the aim of cultivating their physical strength, honing mental discipline, and equipping themselves with skills needed for self-defense, should the need arise. It was a practice rooted in self-reliance and empowerment, rather than obligation and allegiance. 
Next to the training grounds, the archery training fields awaited. 
Arriving there, I was met with a breathtaking panorama of lush greenery stretching out before me, the distant mountains standing sentinel against the azure sky. 
 A its center, there was a row of sturdy wooden targets, each with rings painted in red. Along the periphery, racks of polished bows stood in neat rows, the curves catching the sunlight, and nearby, quivers waited with arrows arranged next to them.
It was truly a wonderful place, even though my momentary admiration was broken by Rei’s next words.
“Why don’t you show us what you can do?”
I frowned.
“What?” Immediately, I shook my head. “No. No, I don’t—I don’t think I’m dressed appropriately,” I confessed, feeling a pang of self-consciousness as I looked down at my dress.
“I’ve seen you shoot while dressed in much less appropriate attire,” Noah teased gently, his eyes twinkling.
It took him less than a sentence to convince me to do anything. 
Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, my eyes fixed on the bows. I examined them until I choose one that seemed the most appropriate for my height and the length of my arms. My fingers trembled slightly as they closed around the familiar weight of the bow. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around me fading into insignificance as I prepared myself and focused all my attention on one of the targets ahead.
With a silent prayer on my lips, I drew back the bowstring, feeling the tension build in my muscles with eachsecond. And then, with a swift release, I let the arrow fly, watching with bated breath as it soared through the air with deadly accuracy.
The moment seemed to stretch into eternity, the world holding its breath as the arrow found its mark with a satisfying thud. A rush of exhilaration surged through me, filling every fiber of my being with a sense of triumph and accomplishment.
Turning to face Rei and Noah, I was met with looks of awe and admiration, Noah’s eyes shining with pride as Rei’s watched me with respect. Not even my mother had ever shown so much pride and gratefulness in her daughter. 
“Noah was right. You do possess a remarkable talent,” Rei acknowledged. “The children will undoubtedly benefit greatly from the opportunity to learn from you.”
“I would be honored to teach them,” I replied, my voice filled with determination and a new sense of purpose. 
As the soft hues of a sunny morning painted shadows around us, Noah and I set out on our journey towards the nearby town, hand in hand, our footsteps light upon the forest path. The air was alive with the symphony of nature, the gentle rustle of leaves and the sweet delicacy of a birdsong.
It was the first time we walked with my hand clutched in his as two people who were free, although a part of me still felt reluctant. I was so used to the ingrained fear that holding Noah’s hand was a crime that even after deciding to go against all the rules of our society, I couldn’t entirely erase the lingering apprehension. I couldn’t shake the feeling that at some point someone would show up, point us out, and make us pay for the “crime” of falling in love. 
I was aware that Noah was also grappling with similar anxieties, although he had always been more adept at concealing his fears and worries, of course. 
My thoughts were confirmed when, instead of reveling in the liberation of the moment, he diverted our attention to something he had forgotten to mention the night before. 
In the backpack my grandmother had given us, at the bottom of it, Noah had found another packet containing a handful of coins and bills. Enough money to get us out of harm’s way for a while longer. 
With everything that had happened to us in the last three days, I hadn’t even stopped to think about money. For me, it had never been a problem, but by deciding to run away with Noah, I had also decided to forsake a life of luxury in the castles of the royal families, the fortune that would fall into my hands just for being the daughter of a Shogun, or the inheritance that would be left in my name once my parents were no longer here. Noah and I had nothing. No coins to our name, no possessions but the clothes on our backs. It was a cold reminder of the consequences of our impulsive actions —a samurai and a princess reduced to fugitives, stripped of all the wealth and status that had once defined us. 
That just showed how little I cared about money. Still, Noah managed to alleviate some of my unease with the news that at least we had something on our hands, which led me to realize that, in the excitement of setting out to explore the town, I hadn’t thought to take my grandfather’s katana. When I mentioned it to Noah, telling him that I suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed considering we were still being searched for by my father’s army, he made us stop and forced me to look deep into his eyes as he held my face in his calloused hands. 
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to carry a weapon with you at all times,” he said. “Maybe you should have taken it today, in case you were going out alone, but you’re not. You’re with me. Nothing is going to happen, and I’ll make sure that from now on, you won’t feel the need to be armed whenever you decide to go somewhere.”
That was sweet, the way he implied that he would give me a life of freedom and absent of fear, but they didn’t entirely dispel my anxiety.   
“I’ve got mine,” he said as he noted my angst not subsiding, his thumbs caressing the curve of my cheeks. “I’ll keep us safe, don’t worry.”
Attempting to reassure him more than myself, I nodded, forcing a small smile. 
As I started to resume our walk, Noah’s hand clasped my wrist, halting me in place. When I looked up at him, I noticed a special glint in his eyes.  
“What is it?” I asked. 
“I’m aware I told you how beautiful you are mere hours ago,” he began, his voice a quiet whisper in the forest. The way he was looking at me was tender and adoring, the touch of his touch around my wrist a soothing, honeyed sensation. “But there’s something…” he cleared his throat. “I’ve always wanted to tell you how pretty you look in these dresses,” he continued, more confidence in his voice this time. “Whenever I saw you around your father’s gardens, I was… mesmerized. But I couldn’t say anything.” For obvious reasons. “You look pretty. I just wanted you to know.”
I blushed, but despite the embarrassment I was able to stand on my tiptoes and give him a soft kiss, cupping his cheek in one of my hands.
In about twenty minutes, we caught sight of the first houses that comprised the town. Nestled in the center of the picturesque valley, the town was flanked by towering mountains and crisscrossed by a river, likely the same one Noah and I had followed on our journey. 
At the entrance to the town, a stone structure welcomed us, shaped by two vertical pillar and two horizontal crossbeams.
Venturing further, excitement flowing through me as I held tightly onto Noah’s hand, we found ourselves amidst a bustling scene. The narrow main street bustled with activity as locals and visitors alike moved briskly, carrying bags of provisions and exchanging lively greetings.
The air was alive with the aromas of freshly baked bread and simmering rice, wafting from tiny eateries just beginning to open their doors. Though being daytime, lanterns overhead cast a warm glow and added illumination to the cobblestone path below our feet. 
As we strolled along, I was captivated by the sights and sounds that surrounded us. Quaint tea houses adorned with cherry blossoms stood alongside market stalls offering an array of treasures. 
I pulled Noah to a stop when we came across a group of street performers. 
Dressed in elegant kimonos and covered in vibrant colors, a pair of dancers performed a kabuki-inspired dance, bringing to life ancient tales of heroism and love while a skilled percussionist put on display a performance of taiko drumming on massive drums. The music filled the street with thunderous rhythms that reverberated through the crowd. We watched, enthralled. By the time they reached the heart of their act, Noah’s arms had slid around my waist from behind, and I swayed a little with my back pressed against his chest, my hands resting on top of his over my stomach.And as the final notes of music faded into the air, we were left with a profound desire to belong to this place.  
Even when the crowd started to dissipate, I remained tucked in Noah’s arms, feeling a bittersweet feeling inside of me. I could like it here. I could love it. I was already mesmerized by it all, but the reminder that this what at the cost of my parents put a heaviness in my chest that every once in a while made it difficult to breath. 
As always, so perceptive, Noah pressed a kiss to my hair, prompting me to close my eyes and relish the feeling of being there with him, surrounded by people that accepted our love, that allowed us to be. 
Thankfully, the crowd surrounding me serves as a reminder to keep me anchored in the present moment. My life didn’t belong to my parents, and life was not meant to be perfect, either. I could have paradise at a certain cost, and I would take it. I would take this which was standing in front of me, around me, right now. 
With Noah encouraging us to keep exploring, we stumbled upon a small gathering of locals at a fork in the street, huddled together in animated conversation. They were whispering legends that seemed to dance upon the breeze and that kept children and adults spellbounded by the narratives. 
An old man, his face weathered by years of wisdom, was regaling locals and visitors with tales of ancient warriors and mythical beasts, his voice rising and falling like the ebb and flow of a tide. As he spoke, Noah and I listened and exchanged knowing glances. These tales had been our companions in the quiet of bedtime as children and had accompanied us through our teenage years, intertwined with the poetry and literature of our respective educations. 
As the day wore on and the rumble of hunger coming from my stomach elicited a playful comment from Noah this time, we sought out the nearest food stall, its colorful banners and fragrant spices alluring us closer. We approached the stall with hunger, our mouths watering at the tantalizing aroma that wafted through the air.
Noah’s eyes danced with excitement as he perused the selection of dishes on display, his adventurous spirit evident as he selected a variety of savory skewers and steaming dumplings. 
“What would you like to have?” he asked.
“There’s so much to choose from,” I replied, my eyes darting from one plate to another. “Everything looks delicious.” 
 Noah engaged the vendor, asking about a few specific delicacies before making our selections. 
“Would you like to try these? They’ve just been made and are still warm,” the vendor offered, gesturing to a plate of unfamiliar bites. 
“Sure,” I agreed, accepting the bite from Noah’s fingers. His act of feeding me felt intimate and sweet, and elicited a smile I couldn’t shake as I chewed, my gaze locked on his until his laughter broke the spell. 
“What?” I asked, my mouth still full.
“You look like a hamster,” he teased, his eyes alight with amusement. When he attempted to pinch my cheeks, I punched him playfully on the shoulder before covering my mouth with my hand.
But as I swallowed and tried to avoid his excited expression, I was overwhelmed by a sense of completeness. I had never seen Noah like this, so carefree, so happy. I wanted him like this forever. I would take the good and the bad, but I didn’t want anyone to take this happiness from him. 
I vowed to protect this happiness at all costs. 
As the taste settled in, an unexpected sharp sting spread across my tongue. 
“Gods, this is so spicy!” I exclaimed, feeling the heat intensify. 
The vendor let out a little laugh at my reaction. Noah observed my cheeks tinging red, and without letting his amusement fade, he asked the vendor for a glass of water, which the man quickly offered to me.
After my tongue found some relief and I insisted on avoiding further adventurous bites, Noah and I retreated to a quiet corner to enjoy our meal. Our conversation was light-hearted, focused on the scene unfolding around us and the animate characters populating the market street. We didn’t discuss the situation we were still in for we didn’t want to break the spell of this merry morning. 
A while later, hand in hand and with contented stomachs, we continued to wander through the streets, our hearts buoyant and our spirits lifted by the vibrant energy around. We marveled at the myriad of wonders on display. I couldn’t resist stealing a glance at the elegant dresses adorning one of the stalls, which caught the sunlight and seemed to be calling out to me. 
Ever so attentive to my desires, Noah noticed my gaze and suggested we take a closer look. I was initially hesitant, for the notion of indulging in something as frivolous as a dress seemed quite selfish from my part. But Noah gently took my hand in his and told me that it was perfectly acceptable to indulge in a little luxury now and then, that I deserved it, and that seeing me happy was all he desired.
Already feeling content simply walking beside him, hand in hand and basking in his love, I relented, allowing myself to be swept away by the beauty of the exquisite garments on display. I explored the racks of dresses with Noah following my steps. Each dress was more enchanting than the last, and Noah offered his candid opinion and commented on which colors seemed to complement me best, which I found quite adorable. Who would have thought that a Samurai could be so dept at navigating the world of fashion?
Lost in the array of fabrics and colors, my moment of indulgence was suddenly interrupted by the unexpected appearance of Kenzo, Rika’s husband. Spotting us from a distance, he called out our names, drawing our attention away from the dresses and back to the street. 
With a friendly salute, Kenzo greeted us, mentioning that he had just finished selling some rice to the vendors from the nearby stalls while his brother remained in the fields. Curious about our impressions of the town, he inquired about our experience so far, prompting me to gush with cheerful comments about the warmth of the people and the beauty of the place. 
Everything felt so delightful. Such mundane tasks as shopping for food and clothes were luxuries that I had seldom enjoyed during my time at my father’s estate, which made this experience all the more special for me.
“I can’t help but notice that my clothes fit you well,” he pointed out, looking at Noah’s outfit. 
“Yeah, thank you. I’ll make sure to get something else today so that we don’t have to keep borrowing clothes,” Noah replied humbly. No hint of embarrassment. I guess he didn’t care, truly. 
“Do not worry too much about it. The dress looks good on you, too,” he said to me. “I hadn’t seen Rika wearing that dress since she got pregnant.” At the mention, his eyes showed a glimpse of a fond memory, maybe his wife, round with their child in her tummy. “It’s nice to see that we can still give use to things we don’t need anymore.” 
“All the dresses were so pretty,” I said, running my fingers over the delicate fabric of the skirt, admiring its design.  
“She’s got another lot from when she was pregnant. We’re not considering having another baby for a while now, but if you do, do not hesitate to ask her. I’m sure she’ll be elated to borrow you some clothes if you like them. Otherwise, there is a shop down the street, on the left, that only sells clothes for pregnant women.”
While his offer was undoubtedly kind, his remarks about pregnancy and babies only served to exacerbate my internal turmoil. The prospect of starting a family with Noah had crossed my mind on occasion, the image of Noah holding our tiny baby in his long arms, tucking him or her against his chest… I had entertained the thought a few times, but it was a topic I wasn’t ready to confront fully yet. It felt daunting considering the tumultuous world we were living in at the moment. Motherhood could wait for a more opportune moment, when our hearts and minds were truly ready. 
Just as Kenzo was pointing towards the location of said maternity shop, the three of us realized the air was crackling with tension nearby. A commotion was growing, the voices of angry merchants rising in protest over some disputed deal. Noah exchanged a concerned glance with me, then touched Kenzo’s shoulder.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Noah said. 
“Not at all,” Kenzo agreed. 
“Mind if we go and see if we can help defuse the situation?” Noah suggested before starting to leave the clothing stall. 
“No, sure. Let’s go, see if we can be of any help,” was Kenzo’s answer. 
“You stay here,” Noah said to me, extending his arm to grab my hand and give it a gentle squeeze while he smiled a little. “Get a dress you like. I’ll be back in a moment.” 
“Okay, just be safe,” I told him. 
“I will,” he nodded. 
With my heart a little heavy, I released his hand reluctantly and let Noah fade into the crowd, followed by Kenzo. They hurried off towards the source of disturbance, to which I didn’t really pay much attention. I had enough to worry about, and I knew that whatever was going on, would get settled soon, with Noah and Kenzo’s help. 
I let myself be dragged on by the energy of the other people around me, also checking clothes and buying food in the nearby stalls. 
As I stood amidst the colorful dresses, I tried to push aside the worry gnawing at my insides and immerse myself in the moment. I touched the fabrics, marveled at the craftsmanship and attention poured to the details in the designs. Each garment was a work of art in its own right. 
The vendor, a kindly old woman with a warm smile and twinkling eyes, noticed my interest and approached with a gentle curiosity. With a nod of greeting, she began to share stories of the dresses – their origins, the traditions behind their designs, and the meaning woven into every stitch. Her words were like music to my ears, soothing my troubled mind and drawing me deeper into the enchanting world of the shop.
But just as I began to relax into the moment, a strange presence abruptly stopped just behind me, and a chill swept over me, sending shivers down my spine. 
Instinctively, I tensed, my senses on high alert. 
A body pressed against mine threateningly. 
The heat pressing against my back lacked the comforting warmth I felt when Noah was near. My heart raced, and I found myself frozen for a few seconds, staring straight ahead, eyes wide open, my hand still gripping the side of the dress I had contemplated buying.
Around me, people bustled about, occupied with their tasks, chatting with their neighbors and friends as they held shopping bags and carried boxes of produce. As my eyes scanned the crowd panickily, I couldn’t spot Noah. The commotion at the end of the street seemed to have magnified and I couldn’t get a glimpse of his tall frame. 
Even amidst the busy street, fear enveloped me. 
I had no weapons with me, and Noah didn’t know I was in danger. There was no possible way I could tell him that he was, too. 
I was on the verge of screaming when the voice behind me said, “Dare to utter a sound, and I assure you the blade of the knife I’m holding against your side will pierce your skin, deep enough to stain the pretty dress you’re wearing. No one will be able to do anything to stop it, not even Noah. So listen to me: turn around and walk to the alley on the right, and keep going until the end. Don’t stop, and don’t even think about running or screaming for your hapless Ronin to come to your rescue. Understood?”
I didn’t reply, my blood turning cold as my thoughts raced. If I could just be quick enough to grab something sharp from the stall and turn around to attack him first…
The tip of his blade pressed against my side, and a twinge of pain shot through me. I knew the dress was torn, just as I knew there was nothing I could do. 
The lovely vendor that had entertained me minutes ago was now engrossed in serving with another customer, her back turned to me. A lump formed in my throat as I swallowed, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. 
Behind me, the voice sliced through the air as it uttered my name, a dangerous warning dripping from his tone. His wasn’t a familiar voice, but I knew it well enough to know who it belonged to. 
“Understood?” He demanded. 
“Understood,” I replied in a low voice, barely audible over the clamor of the shopping street.  
“Good. Move.”
I turned around, the figure behind me following the same steps, not letting me see his face just yet. 
I turned the corner of the first alley and walked with the tip of the blade pressed to my side, still threatening to slice through my skin. The sounds of the crowd faded away. It wasn’t until we reached a secluded corner, the damp stones beneath our feet and the sun struggling to penetrate the narrow passageway, that the tension seemed to ease if only just a little. 
I cautiously took two steps away from the figure behind me, and then, I turned to face him. 
“Ren,” I said, my voice steady despite the unease that gnawed at me. 
Ren looked just as he had three days ago, when my father had expected Noah to take his own life. Ren wore the same attire, only now it was marred by mud and grime. Fatigue etched lines on his face, and beneath the weariness, simmered an unmistakable anger. 
“Look at you,” he sneered. “All dolled up and parading through the streets as if you hadn’t tarnished your family’s name and fled with a man who’s lost his honor.”  
I ignored his comment. I focused on maintaining my composure, swallowing down my fear. If I could keep Ren talking, perhaps Noah would find me before any harm befell me. 
“How did you find us?” I inquired, my gaze steady. 
“Did you truly think I would grant you the same courtesy as your father and allow you a twenty-four-hour head start to run away with that wretch of a man?” His words cut through the air like a blade, each one laced with venomous resentment.
“Don’t talk like that about Noah,” I shot back, my voice trembling now with defiance.
“I do because that’s what he is—if anything. He took you away from your parents, from your duty as the daughter of the Shogun. From me,” he retorted bitterly.  
“He didn’t take me away,” much less from you, I wanted to say. “It was my choice,” I countered with a rough edge in my voice that betrayed my growing anxiety. “I left because I was not happy with the future that had been decided for me.”
Ren scoffed. “No one is happy with their future, but we take it nonetheless and fulfill our duties.”
“And you don’t think that maybe things should change? That people should be allowed to choose their fate?”
“This is not a fantasy tale,” he retorted, mentioning my name at the end, and piercing me with his cold gaze. “You had responsibilities in your hands, and you dropped them the moment that pathetic excuse of a man got between your legs. Am I wrong?”
I contained the urge to slap him as my cheeks burned. 
“You are wrong,” I said sharply, my chest raising. I wouldn’t let him see my vulnerability. “But entertain me” I continued. “According to me, my responsibilities were that I made sure to choose wisely so that I could secure a future built on happiness, love, and power. Isn’t that what all those tales they tell us as kids say? If you are so sure I did wrong, tell me what my responsibilities were. Tell me how I should have done things.”
I knew. He didn’t have to say. He didn’t have to enumerate them. 
I knew them fucking well. 
But I needed time. I wasn’t certain what Ren was capable of, but the recent threat he imposed on me had sounded all too genuine, and I had a feeling that he would dare to hurt me if as a result he could take me back to my father, even if it was by force.
“Your family is one of the most powerful ones of the province. You are the only daughter of the Shogun, the only heiress to his position and inheritance. You had to respect the order of things, follow your parents’ steps, and marry me.”
I never really like Ren. It wasn’t merely his current presence that fueled my distaste, but rather his embodiment of the quintessential royal archetype—obedient to tradition, entitled, and expecting the world to kneel at his feed and fulfill him with whatever need he had. Ren’s life had been scripted from birth, with every detail set up prior to his arrival. He’d had nothing to worry about. I supposed he had already assumed that I would be his wife one day, merging our families’ legacies to consolidate power across the peninsula. Yet, all those presumptions shattered when I confronted my father and threatened him with his own sword in front of his army while also forcing Ren to return Noah his katana. I had put him to shame in front of the entire province, veneering him of any privilege and igniting a flame of resentment inside of him that he wouldn’t let go. 
I had never found him interesting, either. The times we were forced to meet in my father’s estate or in his, there had never been any connection, not even one that would give way to friendship. It’s also to be considered that by the time I met him for the first time, I was already head over heels in love with Noah. In fact, the first time Ren and I were introduced to each other had been the day after Noah and I had had one of our first sexual experiences. We were still teenagers. We hadn’t slept together, but we had touched each other, our hands exploring those unfamiliar nooks and crannies of the opposite anatomy, attentive to the little noises the other made and the expressions of pleasure that crossed our faces each time we caressed a special place. I had almost died of embarrassment when Ren greeted me, looking at me with that expression that said, “I’ll be the first”, having no idea that he no longer had anything to do. I was still a virgin, but Noah had already touched me, and I wouldn’t let any man other than Noah get his hands on me. Noah would be the first, and the last.
And I was going to keep it that way. 
I felt sorry for Ren, truly, but this was a battle he couldn’t hope to win. I’d sooner face death than live without Noah. It was a truth I’d held steadfast in my mind and heart for as long as I could remember. I would be with Noah, or I just wouldn’t be. I would marry him, or no one else. I would give birth to children that bore the same eye-shape as his and his smile, or I wouldn’t have any. 
“We would have never been happy together,” I said, keeping it simple and practical. I didn’t hold much hope for Ren to understand. Perhaps he believed that happiness was a collective responsibility, one that could be achieved with work and effort, one that could be built the same way you build a house. Or maybe he simply believed that women were not worthy of finding happiness the way I did, by crossing paths with a soldier in her father’s gardens when we were just kids. Of course Ren would have been happy with me, or at least pleased in a way. But I would definitely not have been. Would he have cared? I would never know. 
“Happiness can be attained if you work for it,” was his reply, affirming my suspicions. His ideas aligned with the conventional wisdom: first, you get married, then you toil tirelessly in pursuit of happiness, with no guarantee of success.   
“I don’t believe that’s how happiness is supposed to work,” I replied firmly. “I found happiness without searching for it, I seized it and held on tight,” I told him, referring to Noah. I didn’t have to specify because he already knew. 
“You cannot be referring to that miserable ronin. Do you truly think someone like him is capable of providing happiness?”
“Why wouldn’t he?” I maintained my composure, refusing to be rattled by Ren’s palpable disdain for Noah. “Just because he was born and raised as a Samurai, meant to serve a master, does not mean he lacks the capacity to feel or to please others as he served my father for years, earning his trust as his finest swordsman. You have a misguided perception, Ren, and you’re making a mistake by being here. Noah will notice my absence. He will find us, and I don’t want to witness what he will do to you when he does.”
His eyes widened as the weight of my warning sank in.  
“No,” he retorted, brandishing the dagger and closing the distance between us. His katana was secured at his waist, and I could see his other hand hovering close in case he needed it. “You have made a terrible mistake. You’ve forsaken your life as the Shogun’s daughter for someone who is way below your status. Your future was already written, and you decided to burn down the vellum. What does he have to offer you? He had nothing, and now he isnothing. He’s abandoned the Bushido Code. He’s a ronin now, and he might end up joining the Yakuza. If he betrayed the kingdom, he could betray you.” 
“He won’t,” I said as a matter of fact. “Noah did not choose me for what I had or for my status. He chose me for the things I decided to give him myself—my heart. That’s the only thing I have to offer to him now. I am no longer a princess. I have no wealth in my hands. I only have uncertainty about my future. And yet, Noah still wants me. I know this is difficult for you to accept, Ren, and it was never truly my intention to hurt you, but I’ve been in love with Noah since I was a little girl. He was my first love, and he will be my last.” 
Rage was pouring from him now. It was evident on his eyes, in his expression, in the taut muscles of his body and the veins pulsating in his neck and forehead. His black hair was in disarray from the days he must have endured away from his family’s estate, too. 
In one single step, he bridged the gap that separated us. His hand tangled in my hair, wrenching my head back sharply, eliciting a gasp from me as the blade’s edge pressed against my neck, stinging. 
“Do not speak another word. Whatever he’s done to you, whatever lies he’s spun to persuade you, you are wrong, and someone needs to bring you back down to earth, princess.”
“Ren…” I began to plead, but he cut me off forcefully.
“No! He’s doomed but you still have a chance. Return with me to the Shogun’s castle. Marry me, bear my children, and give an heir to secure the future of your father’s dynasty.”
The realization of his intentions suddenly terrified me. I had always known, deep down, that this was the expectation placed upon royal women. It was the destiny that had been laid out for me. The same one it would be laid out for my daughter. But hearing it articulated so callously, reducing me to a mere vessel for producing heirs, filled me with dread, chilling me to the bone. 
“Ren, you’re hurting me,” I managed to say. Both physically and emotionally. Fear coursed through me. If Noah didn’t find me soon, I would start screaming, consequences be damned. 
“And you think you didn’t hurt me? Or your parents? You think you’re the only one entitled to your pain?” His grip tightened. “You might have run away with that disgraceful man, but you still have a princess complex inside of you. You’re greedy and selfish, and if that bastard hasn’t realized it yet, he will soon.”
“I hope so, because she fucking deserves to be selfish.” 
Noah’s voice cut through the tension like a lifeline, an antidote to cure the poison in my body.
And then, everything happened in a blur. 
Ren was forcefully yanked away from me, the blade grazing my skin as Noah’s strength pulled him back with such intensity that he stumbled, gasping for air. Noah’s grip on Ren’s tunic tightened around his neck, momentarily choking him. 
Ren had clearly underestimated Noah. He had foolishly believed that Noah wouldn’t notice I was gone, that he wouldn’t panic the moment he couldn’t find me among the stalls, wouldn’t suspect that something had gone wrong. 
But Noah wasn’t a fucking prince with a misguided sense of superiority. He was a Samurai—resourceful, cunning, and relentless. He would stop at nothing to find me, no matter where I was. 
Ren was just wrong about Noah in every possible way.
And now he was going to pay for it. 
In a second, Noah had unsheathed his katana, the gleaming blade immediately touching Ren’s throat. Reflexively, Ren extended his own sword towards Noah, the dagger now discarded on the ground. 
“Drop it,” Noah commanded, not an ounce concerned about having another sword pointed at him, “before I slit your throat and drag you to the forest so that the wolves can feast on you.”
“I’m not afraid of you, ronin,” Ren retorted, but the fear in his eyes betrayed his bravado. I could see it just the same as Noah. 
This was not even a battle, and yet, Ren had already lost. 
“You will be when I start cutting every finger that has touched her. I won’t repeat myself. Drop your fucking weapon.”
It took only seconds. My hands had stopped trembling the moment Noah appeared. Now, it was Ren’s hands that shook as he released his katana, his shoulders sagging in resignation as the sound of the blade meeting the ground reverberated in the air. I watched as he struggled to maintain his composure, suppressing the indignation of once again having to bow to a Samurai’s—or rather, a ronin’s— will.  
“If she’s harmed in any physical way, you will pay with your own flesh. If she’s not, you will pay either way.”
After his threat, there was a heavy pause. None of us said anything until Noah, never once averting his gaze from Ren, called my name. 
“Are you hurt?” 
Perhaps Ren didn’t catch it, or perhaps he lacked the ability to decipher the nuances in Noah’s voice as I did. But I heard it—the subtle tremor, the fear. 
Noah was scared. 
Bringing my fingers to my neck, I located the spot where Ren’s blade had pressed, and my breath caught when I felt the dampness coating my fingertips. Looking down, I found them stained with blood. Not much, but enough to awaken the beast within Noah. 
“I’m bleeding.”
In an instant, Noah’s movements blurred with precision and controlled fury. The punishing blow to Ren’s liver landed with the force of a sledgehammer, delivered by the heel of Noah’s boot. With resolve, Noah maintained his grip on his katana, his muscles coiled with a lethal combination of strength and determination. 
The impact reverberated through Ren’s body like a thunderclap, sending shockwaves of agony coursing through every fiber of his being. Gasping for breath, he crumpled to the ground as pain engulfed him in its merciless embrace. 
Through the haze of agony, Ren could barely make out Noah’s figure looming over him, his eyes ablaze with a fierce intensity. In that moment, Ren realized the extent of Noah’s determination to protect me.
I had warned him, but he didn’t listen. 
With trembling hands, Ren reached out in a feeble attempt to plead for mercy, but his words dissolved into a choked gasp as Noah’s steely gaze bore down on him. There would be no forgiveness. 
In the aftermath of the brutal blow, a heavy silence descended upon the scene, broken only by the ragged sound of Ren’s labored breathing and the distant echo of Noah’s heartbeat and mine. And as Ren lay sprawled on the ground, his body wracked with pain, he knew that he had awoken the wrath of a man whose love knew no bounds, and whose fury was as unyielding as the steel of his blade.
“I won’t give you the chance to touch her again, but if you even conceive the idea of doing so, I will make sure you don’t recover from this pain,” Noah declared. He knelt down briefly, bringing himself to eye level with Ren, whose face was red and contorted with agony, hands clutching his own body. “I was once a Samurai. I killed men in battle. But I am a ronin now. I will not hesitate to kill anything, or anyone, that is a threat to her. May this serve you as a reminder that I follow no code anymore.” 
Though Noah’s words should have chilled me, they didn’t. 
As Ren lay writhing on the ground, noah slowly turned to me, his features softening instantly. 
I extended a hand to him, the one free of bloodstains. 
The fear I saw in his eyes disarmed me. 
His fingers gently lifted my chin to examine the cut on my neck. It wasn’t deep, but it would leave a scar. 
Before I could reassure Noah, he slid one arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his embrace, enveloping me in a cocoon of safety. I wrapped my arms around his torso, pressing my face against his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath his skin. 
We turned to face Ren. 
“This isn’t over,” Ren managed to say, one hand on the floor now, the other one still on his stomach. 
“It is for you,” Noah replied firmly. 
Ren’s gaze shifted to me, ignoring him.
“Your father is not far. When he finds you, he will show no mercy to him. Or to you.” 
I swallowed, but I kept my chin held high. 
“Leave, Ren,” I asserted. “There is nothing for you here. I chose Noah. I will marry him. I will bear his children. I’m here today because I have chosen my future. Me. No one did it for me. There’s nothing here for you to fight for.”
Ren spat on the ground; the action tinted with blood. Noah stood his ground. Eventually, Ren managed to retrieve his katana and rise. I doubted he would be able to bend down again to retrieve the dagger, but I didn’t care. 
“You don’t deserve her,” Ren sneered at Noah. 
“I’m aware,” Noah admitted, “but I’ll spend the rest of my days trying my damnest hard to make myself worthy of her.”
Those were our final words to Ren. 
That would be the last time we ever saw Ren. I didn’t know at that time, and didn’t even conceive the thought because a part of me was actually terrified of what could happen in the upcoming days, in the upcoming hours —but we would never cross paths again.
Back in the bustling street, tucked against Noah’s side and still reeling from the shock, we searched for Kenzo, Noah calling out to him without drawing undue attention from the locals. 
When Kenzo arrived and saw the blood staining my neck, he was poised to rally the community’s trained warriors, but I stopped him. Noah told him what happened and urged him to get someone who could tend to my wound. 
Kenzo led us to a nearby house, just a stone’s throw away. Noah never once released his grip on me.
Ascending wooden stairs to the first floor of the modest house, after a couple of polite knocks, the door creaked open, revealing a diminutive, kindly-faced old woman. Upon Kenzo’s introduction and a plea for assistance, she ushered us inside. 
She asked no questions, directing me to recline on a bed in what appeared to be a makeshift nurse’s room. Instructing me to tilt my neck for examination, she diligently tended to my wound, cleansing and dressing it with practiced care. 
Noah stood never too far, a silent sentinel with arms crossed tightly over his chest, his expression taut with worry. Kenzo attempted to engage him in conversation, but Noah remained reticent, his attention fixated on the street below as he stood by the window, peering out through parted curtains. 
In that moment, it was as though the samurai had taken the place of my lover, and I didn’t know when I was going to get him back. 
“Should we consider returning to the community as soon as possible?” Kenzo asked, casting a concerned glance in my direction, a consideration he had after noting Noah’s suddenly silent demeanor. 
“Yes,” I said softly, aching to reach out to Noah but held back by the old woman’s ministrations as she applied a strange liquid-soaked cotton pad to my neck. “If my father is nearby, they should be informed. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to your com—.” 
“I’ll take care of him”, Noah interjected suddenly, his tone conveying a sense of determination that unsettled me.  
However, it was Kenzo who responded to Noah’s declaration. 
“No,” he said. “Firstly, this community is not just ours, it’s yours now, too. Our sanctuary transcends royalty and government jurisdiction. There’s a higher power at play here, one that protects us. Besides, we’re well-equipped to handle such situations. Many of us come from similar backgrounds. We’re accustomed to defending our own, and you two are now part of our community.”
Noah was not expecting that, and neither was I. 
“You will be all right,” the old lady assured me, redirecting my focus away from the conversation. Her gentle pat on my shoulder offered solace. I was about to reach for my neck, but she shook her head, advising against it. “It will heal just fine but avoid touching it. Keep it clean throughout the day, and it will soon fade away”. 
A soft “thank you” escaped my lips, overwhelmed by the kindness and care we were receiving. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes as I sat up on the bed, seeking out Noah’s attention with a silent plea. 
Finally, he noticed my distress and approached me. His arm enveloped my shoulders once more, while his other hand gently cradled the back of my head. As I wrapped my arms around him, he pressed me to his chest, planting a tender kiss on my hair as I struggled to contain my tears. 
We journeyed back to the sanctuary on horseback, a magnificent creature provided by a local resident keen on making our trip back quicker. Kenzo rode at the front on his own horse. I rode together with Noah, seated in front of him, feeling the tension emanating from his body envelop me. I could sense his restraint in his muscles, on his chest pressed against my back. I could see it at the way his grip tightened on the horse leash, his knuckles whitening. 
Upon crossing the southwest gate, Noah dismounted first, reaching out to lift me down from the horse. As my feet touched the ground, a fleeting sense of relief washed over me, grateful to be within the safety of the community once more. 
However, my respite was short-lived.  
After we secured the horses and made our way toward the main square, an eerie silence hung in the air, contrasting the usual bustle of activity we had found the day before. There were no deer grazing nearby, no children’s laughter echoing through the streets. 
I noticed Rei, Maura, and two others approaching us, their expressions somber, katanas sheathed at their waists. 
“The Shogun is here,” Maura announced. 
The moment the news reached me, I spotted my father approaching us, coming down from the main stone path, his battle armor on, weapons ready, surrounded by an army of at least eight Samurai, flanking him from each side. His stride was determined, and the look on his eyes fierce. 
My heart clenched.
No. I won’t let him get near Noah again. 
I seized hold of Noah’s katana, drawing it from its sheath, ready to fight my father one more time. 
The last time. 
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Author's note: I just want to say thank you to each of you that has shown love in any way for this fic. I started it as a oneshot from a random idea i got after seeing a picture of Noah with a katana, and here we are now. I have spent hours writing these chapters and doing research and trying to make my writing as good as it can get, considering the historical aspect of this fic. It means a lot to me to know that you're following Noah's and his princess' journey. I can't wait to share with you the next part very soon and then, the epilogue.
All my love <3
Readers tagged: @thescarlettvvitch | @girlfromrussia-universe | @kankuurohs | @somebodyels3 | @missduffsblog | @respectfulrebel | (let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part and the epilogue <3:)
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s4mu-k41d3n · 3 days
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“𝐁𝐔𝐖𝐀𝐍”
by juan karlos
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TYPE 2 <> YAN!CHUUYA X GN!READER〰️sypnosis: he’s a lunatic for you. you, only you under the glamour of the yellow moon, under the white light that flicks each breezing step he took, so just only he will love you, yet did you hear his screams? your beauty, reaching the moon lurking at the dark soaring above.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 〰️disclaimer: obsessive behavior, stalking, violence, blood, mentions of guns, stalking, bad writing, ooc!chuuya?, sexual themes, not proofread.
౨ৎ₊ ⊹ 〰️notes: I still like have 1 drafts but i have no idea how to start with well ermmm. by the way the song is in a different language/in filipino, i apologize if you don’t understand the lyrics but i can’t think of any more songsD:
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He’s yours, you’re his.
You look pretty to his bored sight, the blank eyes deceiving his filthy intentions he discreetly covers your eyes, blinding the rational truth he keeps dead end in his pockets. Are not you his precious little doll? Small words may be spoken, simple acts may be acted, yet it treasures a deeper meaning when he’s along with your bittersweet accompany. Something tingling in his rumbling stomach each time you’re close beside, before, after him. There’s no meaningless difference, merely how his eyes dilate and shape into a beating heart whenever he catches you in his borderline—is a golden routine for every single arise of light and dark. When the moon sets above from the abyss, wherein the sun reflects its glow to light.
He surely adores this part of the day, it never goes out missing in his crumpled calendar. Punctured to his cracked wall. Whether it be the clouds wail, the sun burns, the moon turns to dust—it’s a cycle he would never get tired of despite how many times it repeats in a two’s arrival nor leaving. Who was he to stop loving you? He’ll be the one to chase after you in a zigzag pathway even if led to the below. He’ll sacrifice the world for you, he’ll sacrifice himself just for you. He’d banish from existence just for you and he snaps from delusions.
The moon glamoured your beauty, painting him a canvas of elegance. Chuuya’s eyes shot towards your figure, how alluring you are to trap his heart in your lively aura. An unknown gaze observes, the way your blouse plays with your movements. The way your eyes glimmer in excitement, he watches from afar. He noticed a man in a suit, before you he stands. As if like he’d take you away from his presence, no, no he won’t accept that. Chuuya’s hands slip into his pocket as the glint dies down into envy. Jealousy, arises from his heat. He gritted his teeth, “I’ll break that man’s fucking spine.” His hands clenched, fist forming as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
The ceremony was along to finally cease, yet Chuuya remained vigilant. He pries to search for that man, who’d be the one receive you first before his? How dare he, he’ll acknowledge his efforts once he sees you again. Softening as he captures you sitting from a distance away. The ceremony came to a halt as guests exited the building, Chuuya leaned against the wall as he only bargained his upcoming plan to murder that disgusting man. He was an executive after all, it’d be an easy job. Won’t it? He excused himself in the crowds of passers as he pinpoints his target, silent as he followed the man’s tracks. Drawing a gun he pockets, lurking in the shadows. Blood spewed out of the victim’s head, falling to the ground as red spills the pavements. Chuuya withdraws his gun as he eyed the dead body lying on the ground as he flees from the scene.
Luckily, he’ll move on to the main part of the day. He strode over to your house as he peeks by the window. He saw you, pupils dilate as you sat on the couch. Removing your shoes you stood up, “Fuck…” Chuuya mumbles under his breath as you went into your bedroom. He knew what was about to come as he trailed towards the room, he’s entertained by your show. Breathing heavily as his hands trembled in anticipation. Your fingers pulling your blouse up as Chuuya’s eyes widened. Cloth dropping to the floor as he saw your semi-naked body. Your skin seemed so flawless, your curves displayed so beautifully. Your pants being slid off only to be in your undergarment as you fold your clothes. Little did you know, a shadow piques to stalk your prints. You let out a breathy sigh, stretching.
“You’re really mine, aren’t you…” Chuuya mutters as he looks at you up and down. So bad, his gloved hands desires to claw on your skin—fangs to bite on your flesh to claim you as his. You dressed a loose shirt and simple shorts, too bad now covering your body his thrill wore down. Your features, he just imagines his hands traveling all over your warmth, his lips pressed up yours as he savors your sweet taste. Tongue exploring your mouth as his sight closed, to just run his tongue along your skin, teeth biting into your delicate neck to be filled with his markings. Yet his time was up, he has to get back to the headquarters—now isn’t this fun? He groans in annoyance as he spared you one last glance of lust and obsession.
He’ll be back for tomorrow, he’s sure.
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woncon · 2 days
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➳ fairy flower
➶ knight!jongho x royalty gn!reader 。˚ °
-ˏ` ✎﹏ the day the fairy flowers bloom is the day Jongho saves your life.
➴ genre: fantasy, royalty au, fluff, platonic
: ̗̀➛ warnings: fight with a dragon, blood
⌨ :: 1.3k words ♡ ︵ . .
➳ ateez masterlist | main masterlist
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Fairy flowers bloom when the first summer sun rays reach their petals. 
Finally, the moment is near. 
Your heart beats excitedly at the thought. Your six months of hard work in your garden will pay off. When you dug the flower bed with your own two hands into the frost-covered, frozen earth, when you went out several times every day to water your plantation and talk to the plants - for sure, when you received the magic seed from the fairies, they said that those flowers also need company for development, and if they’re lonely, they perish -, it will all pay off.
You took all the advice and serenely tended your garden. The fairy flowers grew gratefully to your tinkling, sweet voice in their comfortable earth bed.
You walk agitated, adjust your clothes, wrap your hands and keep looking in the direction of the forest, hoping that the sun will light the canopies on fire with its light, and then also your beloved flowers. 
They’re now only bashfully and shyly hiding in their buds.
"Don't worry, the sun will rise soon. You get the most beautiful clothes from nature, so keep your heads up!" You crouch down, lift one of the sad plants, and gently stroke the soft, wing-like petals. "You will be beautiful; don't be afraid."
Encouragement has a good effect on the flower. It stretches itself out, even holding its leaves higher, so its rainbow colored veins are more visible. This dashing motion reminds you of your bodyguard. 
You turn back with a faint smile, where the man is standing not far away. Arms folded in front of his chest. He’s in full knight's armor. His gaze wanders into the distance, searching for potential danger.
You sigh, lean closer to the newly straightened creature, and entice it some more with sweet promises.
"You'll be so beautiful that you will make even Jongho smile. You'll see," you whisper confidentially.
The little flower is not only proud, but also excited to hear these words; its petals open slightly, and a honey scent wafts from them into your face. You giggle and rise from the twelve seedlings, which won't stay like this for long.
You raise your hands to your chest and look at the sky, waiting for the sun. Your heart is full of hope.
"Jongho!" you hurriedly motion to him. 
He walks next to you with measured steps. You point to the horizon, where the upper tip of an orange puck rises.
As the light reaches the flowers, they come to their senses. They shake, their pale yellow color turns beautiful golden. They bloom and open their petals, revealing the diamond dormant within them and the inside of their glittering petals.
The scent the fairy flowers emit is intoxicating. It fills the entire garden, and infuses you with the love you feel at this moment. You glance at Jongho. He has a faint, impressed smile on his lips. 
You nod to your flowers, indicating that you said so.
But your cheerfulness and intense contentment turn into deep fear, when the sun is blocked by a dragon. He is heading for the garden, approaching quickly on the back of the wind. He has smelled the fairy flowers and wants to possess their diamond brilliance.
"Jongho!" Your finger points to the horizon again. 
The man also sees the large creature. Frowning defiantly, he shoves you behind himself and pulls his sword from its sheath. 
"Stand behind me, your majesty!"
"Don't let him hurt them!"
The flowers curiously stretch their stems towards the source of danger. When the shadow of the monster covers them, they panic and try to hide, but once they have emerged from their bud, there is no way back.
The dragon's claws dig into the nearest boxwood. He snarls evilly, saliva dripping between his yellow teeth. His deep red eyes scan you with hatred, his spiky tail flaps behind him in warning, and if that wasn't enough, smoke billows from his nostrils. His throat emits a raw, menacing growl that can burst into flames at any time.
"When I give the signal, run as fast as you can." Jongho grabs your forearm to make sure you pay attention to him. You nod, your eyes misting up, but you know you have to stay strong.
The dragon is encouraged and leans closer to the flowers. He sticks out his forked tongue to smell the sweet scent.
"Now," says the knight, then thrusts his sword forward, and you leave the safety of his back to run towards the castle.
The red animal roars, jumps across the garden, and spawns in front of Jongho. As tall as a horse, but far more dangerous. The ferocity burning in his eyes only increases as soon as Jongho doesn't back down, but instead nails his sword to the scaly, muscular chest. 
Dragons hate metal, it injures them. But at the same time, this specimen is really proud and selfish. He wants to defeat the brave knight and get the flowers, even if it means getting injured.
He opens his mouth. 
The air heats up in his throat. 
Jongho sees the muscle glowing inside. 
He is about to stab with his sword, when the dragon recoils. Not by itself, he is also surprised when he notices the stalks of martial flowers tightly twisted on his hind legs. While he is not paying attention, Jongho hits him in the shoulder with his sword. 
The dragon growls. Saliva drips down his chin and blood down his forelegs.
He strikes Jongho with his other paw. Jongho sprawls on the ground. 
The creature inflates its lungs again to defeat the enemy with fire, but this time the flowers pull his legs back even tighter, and he collapses. By the time he gets himself together, the knight has already stood up, towering over him. Jongho’s sword just above the dragon's skull. A look of passionate determination on his face.
The monster is forced to admit that he has lost. In the end, his life proves to be more important than the treasures and his pride. Whimpering, he tears himself free from the grip of the fairy flowers, spreads his wings and flies away with an angry snarl.
Jongho drops his sword to the ground to grab his sore shoulder.
"Jongho!"
You’re heading towards him, followed by three court soldiers. They are the help you have been able to mobilise.
"Jongho, are you okay?" You anxiously touch his gloved hand. 
"Yes. The dragon is gone. And the fairy flowers helped chase him away."
But you easily notice the sore shoulder, even if he lowers his arm.
Damn that the royal family is not being allowed to carry weapons with themselves, you think, as you see him. You wish you could have helped him sooner, in the middle of the fight.
"Does it hurt?"
"It sprained."
"I was so afraid." Looking for safety and support, you snuggle into Jongho's healthy shoulder. "I was worried about you..."
The bodyguard gently hugs you and carefully draws you close to his armor. You are unbecomingly close to each other, but after such a crisis, you must find solace. Jongho rests his chin on your head. 
He can smell your scent, which is somehow a thousand times more special than the scent of fairy flowers. His body immediately relaxes, holding you in his arms.
Maybe even his shoulder hurts less.
"Don't be afraid, your majesty. I'll protect you at all costs."
The hug is soft and Jongho's closeness is comforting. You were terrified of losing him. Being close to him again feels like a redemption. Until now, you hadn't really realized how much the bodyguard, who accompanies you everywhere and looks after you, really means to you. Who would actually sacrifice his life for your safety.
Even if it's just duty, for the moment you spend so close to each other, you let your heart shine for Jongho like fairy flowers in the sunlight.
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shadowsandsunset · 2 days
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The BuckTommy OF!Buck fic (with eventual BuckTommyEddie)
PART ONE (You Are Here)
PART TWO (Coming Soon)
PART THREE (Coming Soon)
notes: Come and get your smut, babes. Read at your own risk. 18+
This chapter is 1250-ish words of Tommy's POV. Again, just smut. I've lost control of my brain again.
From this post here. @tiltingheartand I figured you might be interested :)
Tommy doesn't understand how Evan, his boyfriend, affords his frankly ridiculously nice loft apartment. He doesn't really care, he likes spending time with Evan any where, any time, but it lingers at the back of his mind.
He knows Evan, knows he's not doing anything criminal, he's too sweet, too caring. He is very smart though, so maybe it's crypto? Maybe he made some smart investments? Maybe an inheritance or a small lottery windfall?
He knows he shouldn't worry about it, it's not his business, they're not married, they don't live together, it's really none of his concern.
But...the loft is quite nice. All exposed brick and open floor plan goodness. So he wonders.
They've been together now for a few months (3 months, 2 weeks and 4 days, officially) and he knows he loves Evan. He knows Evan loves him. Evan is, despite the hilarious rocky start to their relationship (Ally? Seriously Evan?), a perfect boyfriend.
Which is why one sunny Sunday afternoon he stops by Evans apartment to surprise him. They didn't make plans because Tommy was on call, but he never got called in.
He lets himself in with the key Evan gave him (for emergencies of all kinds... including sex emergencies, which Evan made sure to point out) and is surprised to hear the bass-y thump of some sort of music.
"Baby? You around?"
No answer. Hmm. The music is coming from the bedroom so he heads for the stairs.
He's even more surprised when he gets to the top and sees Evan, blindfolded and jerking off in the middle of the bed. He's changed the sheets, a dark navy blue set that Tommy hasn't seen before, but what really stops Tommy in his tracks is the camera.
Pointed directly at the bed, capturing Evan in flagrante delicto, is a digital camera.
Tommy is stunned, speechless and practically drooling, as he watches Evan's hand stroke his cock, the sound of it wet and dirty. He feels the rush of blood to his dick, the tugging of his boxer briefs as he gets hard.
Well. Isn't this something?
He watches as Evan comes, beautifully and copiously over his hand, the sighing moan of his orgasm making Tommy's dick twitch. He adjusts his dick so it's more comfortable then crosses his arms and leans against the wall to wait.
Evan comes down, sweaty and breathless, and takes off his blindfold. Then he notices Tommy and lets out a panicked shout as he flails around, trying to sit up.
"What are you doing here?"
Tommy grins, all teeth and smarm, "Thought I would surprise you, but I have to say that I'm the one surprised, baby".
Evan groans and covers his face with the hand that isn't dripping cum. He mumbles something behind his hand.
"What?"
"I said: 'I can explain.'".
Tommy motions for Evan to continue, he's invested but not impatient.
"Do you know what OnlyFans is?"
Tommy feels his mind go a bit static-y, all electric and gooey. His boyfriend is a cam boy? He's certainly beautiful, he's definitely horny, and it would explain the loft...
"You're on OnlyFans?" Tommy chokes out, blood is no longer in his brain but his cock could hammer nails.
"It started a few years ago...I was seeing this girl and she introduced me to it. I thought it was hot, you know? That all these people liked looking at her enough to pay for it. She helped me get started and well... I liked it. I like knowing that people think I'm hot. The money is good too, I'm not like a top creator or anything, but I do alright."
Tommy just stares at Evan for a second then, with Evan's full attention on him, he reaches down and strokes his dick over his pants.
"Evan, baby, you are gorgeous and I am absolutely your number one fan, so I get it. Tell me what you do on camera."
Tommy unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants down to his thighs, stroking his dick and staring at the love of his life, who is too breathtakingly, heartbreakingly, sexy.
Evan takes a deep breath, and then releases it, eyes not leaving Tommy's cock.
"Mostly I just jerk off. Different poses, different things I say depending on if I've had requests. When I started seeing you I started getting more adventurous...fingering myself on camera, that was popular."
Tommy doesn't react except to lightly squeeze on the downstroke.
Evan continues, "You like that? Like that I opened myself up and people watched..."
Tommy moans, "You're so hot, Evan. They all get to look but I get to touch. Fuck."
Evan stops for a second to think.
"Would you want to make a video with me?"
Tommy stops his hand, "Absolutely."
Evan motions Tommy to get on the bed and then goes to the camera and angles it so Tommy's face isn't in view. Then he presses record.
Evan crawls up the bed, facing Tommy and with his back to the camera. He grabs a condom and rolls it on Tommy's dick.
Evan, loose and open from his own exploration earlier, throws his leg over Tommy's and positions himself.
"You ready, baby?"
Tommy doesn't respond except to nod and grab his dick to position it at Evan's hole.
Evan sinks down and moans, Tommy is a big guy, and he's big everywhere. Tommy knows what he's packing and god does Evan take him so well. Evan is tight and warm and Tommy feels his eyes roll back in his head.
"Yeah, just like that Tommy. Oh my god."
Tommy grabs Evan's hips and starts moving, holding Evan still with ease. Evan is so pretty it drives Tommy crazy, he kisses him as he moves inside of him, pretty and perfect and adorable.
Tommy has to admit that the thought of strangers seeing this turns him on. It's fucking hot, his boy on full display as he rides Tommy's dick.
Tommy has been turned on for so long but he's not going to come until Evan does, he's a gentleman.
He takes on hand off Evan's hips and reaches for Evan's dick, as pretty and hard as diamonds.
He strokes Evan as he lifts his hips, the slick sounds of lips and fucking filling the room. He hopes the microphone is good enough to capture the beautiful sounds Evan's making.
Evan whimpers as he comes, spilling across Tommy's hand and belly.
Ignoring the mess, Tommy puts his hand back on Evan's hip and goes for gold, nearly lifting Evan as he thrusts.
It's only a minute more before he comes, spilling into the condom and growling his pleasure into the side of Evan's neck.
After a moment, he gently helps Evan off and to the side to lay down. Evan is tactile and cuddling with him is one of Tommy's favorite things. Evan lays his head on Tommy's shoulder and laughs, softly.
"So what do you think?"
Tommy thinks for a second, "That's going to be your most viewed video, baby."
LATER
Tommy had viewed the edited video before Evan posted it, and he knew it was a knockout, a winner. Evan had let him know that Tommy had been right, the video was a success. His most popular video on the site.
They hadn't discussed making more yet, but if Evan asked then Tommy was going to say yes. His boyfriend could probably ask him to hide a body and he'd say yes, but Tommy wasn't thinking about how bad he had it for the younger man.
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bluerose5 · 6 months
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Grabbed this one and shared it in discord, but I will share it here too because in terms of voice acting and animations, I feel like this scene is not talked about enough! I love him so much, your honor. 🥺🖤
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chessb0r3d · 4 months
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i cracked the code.
#believing dirk is the worst guy because its what dirk thinks of himself#ignoring daves bisexuality and think hes a gay man in denial even when he explained hes bisexual#believing john 'im not a homosexual' egbert is explicitly straight while he makes out with his mcconahey and cameron posters more#than he kissed women(literally only once)#believing that rose is an edgy psyhcotic little bitch when she was neglected. she speaks elegantly to cover that shes silly and a total ner#and how did people forget that rose also writes gay wizard fanfiction. reads Wikipedia. and her beautiful artstyle as a result of neglect#(and by neglect meaning having SO MUCH TIME to draw)#jake wasnt into dirk. he also told di that he didnt like how brobot getting touchy with him during strifes#but as part of the repression 4(prospit kids). he refused on changing the bot settings#what jane said about roxy being better when she was drunk. it was fucking sarcasm. its the least insane shit you could say to a best friend#all the kids have issues and of course people get mad over a girl being sarcastic.#when KARKAT said THE SAME THING to rose when she was drunk on the meteor nobody bats an eye#trolls are just grey humans that are bugs. he doesnt get an excuse for being an alien. humans were made from KARKATS BLOOD#jade isnt all silly girl and is so FULL OF HATE towards the trolls. she called karkat a fuckass (VERY FUNNY) to do her a favor#“jade would rather have punched karkat in the fact then had a pleasent conversation with him.”#“she viewed the trolls as rude mean and cruel. and even thought that nepeta was just making fun of her.#despite it being that nepeta just wanted to roleplay and have fun."#dred.loki#I HAVE YET TO ADD MORE. THESE ARE JUST NOTES#homestuck#chss
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sttoru · 4 months
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‘the king of curses doesn’t like sharing. especially not when it comes to his partner.’
☀︎|tags. heian era!sukuna x female reader. sfw/fluff ? ig. set in the heian era, duh. jealousy & possessive themes. size difference (reader gets referred to as small!). tried to be realistic w/ sukuna’s characterisation so. . . don’t be surprised to read about him killing somebody. therefore, mentions of blood. reader is implied to have a fear of blood (dw sukuna takes care of it teehee). reader gets called 'brat'. not beta read; this sucks ass.
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you were taking a stroll outside of the estate, the hem of the floral kimono you’re wearing lightly dragging along behind you. the weather was perfect with not a single cloud in sight.
a pair of silent footsteps follow yours and you sigh. even though it was an usual occurrence, you still aren’t used to having one of sukuna’s servants at your side at all times. your over protective lover insisted that it was for your own ‘safety’. as if anything or anyone could harm you whilst you stay within the four walls of the estate far up in the mountains.
sukuna is continuously busy and thus decided to assign you a personal maid that accompanies you and takes care of your every need when he isn’t able to. well - looking at the bright side of things - at least she tries her best to hide her presence from you. she tags along silently and only speaks when spoken to.
you stop near a sakura tree and tilt your head back to admire its beauty. after a few minutes pass, you hear a different pair of footsteps walking up your way. you turn your head and see a familiar male servant approaching you with his head held low.
his hands were holding onto a platter with a cup of warm tea and a few of your favorite delicacies. the brown-haired man greets you politely. maybe a bit too politely as his voice carries a bright smile, “good afternoon, my lady.”
you return the greeting with a smile of your own. it was like you to treat the servants around the estate with kindness and care — a total opposite of the king of curses. you take a pastry from the platter and look back up at the man, “thank you for bringing me these. i appreciate it greatly.”
the way you treat the ones of lower status has always been an admirable trait of yours. it might have stirred some forbidden feelings for you in the heart of the male servant. he knows that it was impossible - he’d seen how easily sukuna gets rid of those who get too close to you.
but, he isn’t here. the king of curses isn’t present in the current moment. the brown-haired male shifts in his place a little, fingernails digging into the material of the plate he was holding. he was going to do it — no one could hold him back. not even the maid who stood a couple steps away.
“y-you look very beautiful, my lady.” the servant stutters and bows his head at you. you are surprised to hear such a flattering sentence leave the lips of the man in front of you. none of the men around you had dared to be this straightforward in ages. they all knew the possible consequences that such actions could bring after all.
perhaps it was due to the absent intimidating presence of your lover. still, you can’t help but feel grateful. you giggle softly, covering your mouth with your free hand, “thank you so much.”
the male servant gulps at the sound of your laughter. ‘oh, how lucky the king of curses is - to have such a beautiful woman at his side,’ the man thought to himself. he was sure that he could treat you better than the indifferent sukuna himself.
he hesitates to continue the conversation for a second. there was an urge deep within him; to ask if you’d like to have some tea with him in the dining area. it would be extremely bold and maybe way out of line considering that you’re taken.
but, the way you reacted to his earlier compliment gave him a huge confidence boost. one that would sooner or later send him to his grave.
“would you perhaps be interested in joining me for a drink, my lady?” the servant asks and anything that happens after that instant, is all but a blur.
you can’t process the next few moments as everything happens way too fast. the last thing you remember seeing, was the servant before you. a sudden gust of wind passes by and the sounds of quick slashes fill your ears. you couldn’t figure out anything else as your vision gets blocked by something. or rather - someone.
a familiar and large hand covers the back of your head. the scent of the person holding you is also oddly familiar—a certain scent that made a shiver run down your spine from both excitement and light fear.
“sukuna?” you guess and guess correctly. your voice was muffled due to your face being smushed against his torso. you didn’t yet understand what happened, so you try to pull your body away from the king of curses, only for his grip on you to tighten.
sukuna’s face was as emotionless as ever. his eyes look down at the pile of blood near your feet — what was once a human being had now turned into nothing but a pure crimson liquid.
“foolish. absolutely foolish.” the king of curses grumbles, his tone filled with disgust. he doesn’t soften the grip on your body for even a moment. one of his four arms holds you captive against him, his hand firmly yet somehow tenderly cradling your head just above his midriff, “it seems that i cannot leave this place for a single second.”
sukuna glances at your personal maid who had been bowing to him the moment he appeared out of thin air. she could feel his piercing gaze on her and knew exactly what to do without being told: to clean up the mess that stained the garden’s pavement.
“sukuna,” you try to move your head again, but was still restricted. you let out a small whine in response. you just wanted to see your lover after spending an entire day without him. any thoughts about that servant from earlier had long vanished, “i want to see you. can i?”
the request is an innocent one. there isn’t a visible change in sukuna's expression, but the way you asked him that was quite. . . endearing, if he were to explain it. he would comply if it wasn’t for the literal bloodbath he created. which he doesn’t want you to witness.
“not yet.” he replies and effortlessly uses one of his arms to pick your small body up. your lover notices how you try to steal a glimpse at the scene behind you while he moves you around in his embrace. he grunts and gently smacks the back of your head, “no peeking, brat. do as told.”
sukuna knows how much you hate the sight of blood. he's being considerate towards you — even if you do not realise that just yet. however, he also does not have a single regret about murdering that servant. it was to be expected. anybody who dares to make a move on his woman should suffer his wrath.
plus, it's not like you don't know about sukuna's ruthless actions. you’ve come to get used to them; more and more male servants keep dissappearing without a trace after they’ve been ‘too friendly' with you. it's easy to guess who’s behind those disappearances.
it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. as long as you don't see it happening and as long as you get to stay under sukuna's care and protection - you don’t mind.
“can i look now?” you huff after sukuna has carried you away from the garden. the king of curses clicks his tongue at your impatience.
he sighs deeply before allowing you back on your own two feet, “i do not understand why you’re so adamant on looking at me, but fine.”
you waste no time and immediately open your eyes. your gaze doesn’t wander off towards your surroundings—it instantly settles on sukuna. he looked the same as usual; there was not a single change about his appearance and yet you find yourself smiling at the sight of him.
“i missed you.” you hug your lover and feel him returning the gesture a few seconds later. he looks the other way and may seem indifferent to your display of affection, though the man was secretly grateful for it. for you in general.
“mhm.” sukuna lets out a small noise of acknowledgment and that is all you get out of him. he doesn’t have to say much; his body automatically does the talking. he squeezes your body against his — your small frame disappearing behind his beefy arms.
the king of curses doesn’t understand why, but the way your eyes sparkle when looking at him, intrigues him. sukuna had never seen another human look at him like that before after all. they all cower in fear; except for you. you don’t show a single ounce of fear. thus why you are something - someone - he must keep for himself.
he has and will never have any intent on sharing you with anyone. you’re his, for as long as he exists.
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yawnderu · 7 months
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Colonel!König x Reader
Colonel!König, who knew he wanted to marry you the moment he saw you come back from your first mission, covered head to toe in blood and dirt, yet as beautiful as ever.
Colonel!König, who makes enough money to spoil you with anything you'd ever want, and that's how he managed to win you over.
Colonel!König, who knew just how inappropriate your relationship was, yet all his morals went out the window for you.
Colonel!König, who always looked out for you in the battlefield despite knowing just how capable you are. There's a reason you were recruited for KorTac, anyway.
Colonel!König, who used his experience in the battlefield to teach you new techniques that could save your life when he wasn't on missions with you. He couldn't risk losing you.
Colonel!König, who took advantage of his rank for the first time ever to spend more time with you. Whether it was asking you to assist him with reports or inventory, he'd always have you by his side.
Colonel!König, who was teased about his little crush on you by Horangi, earning him a dirty look through the mask.
Colonel!König, who painfully had to hide his crush on you in fear of rumors going around and damaging your career.
Colonel!König, who allowed you to work hard for your promotion and didn't have anything to do with it, simply to show just how capable you are.
Colonel!König, who took you out for dinner and shopping after your promotion was announced, hiding it under the excuse that it's what a good colonel should for his soldiers.
Colonel!König, who seemed very polite the entire time of your day together despite the turmoil in his head.
Colonel!König, who practiced in the mirror how to start and keep a conversation with you despite communication being one of his strengths.
Colonel!König, who held in his laughter once your confused face looked up at him, not recognizing him without the mask and eyeblack.
Colonel!König, who had the best day of his life with you, buying you anything you even glanced at despite your protests.
Colonel!König, who was brave enough to put his hand on the inside of your thigh when he was driving you back to base.
Colonel!König, who was growing painfully hard when you made his hand cup your crotch.
Colonel!König, who had two of his massive fingers inside your dripping cunt, his cock already out as you jerked him off with expertise, happy that the ride back to base was long and lonely.
Colonel!König, who had to resist the urge to cum when your tongue was swirling circles on the tip of his dick as you jerked him off, bent over in the passengers seat.
Colonel!König, who insisted on taking you to a nice hotel for your first time together, wanting to make a special memory of what he hoped were more to come.
Colonel!König, who ate you out and fingered you for minutes before fucking you, making sure you came at least three times before he finally pulled his dick out, laying it down on your stomach so you could see how deep he was going to be inside you.
Colonel!König, who bit the inside of his cheek to resist the urge to laugh at your horrified face once you looked down at his length.
"That's it, mein Engel." He praised, rubbing the tip of his cock on the entrance of your folds, mixing your own arousal with his own. He looked at you for consent before he started slowly going inside you, stopping whenever he saw your discomfort only to be reassured that he could keep going.
"More..." You moaned out, and he didn't have to be asked twice. He was delicate and careful with you, your much smaller frame making him feel as if he was handling fine china, and in a way, he was. The bare hands that could murder enemy soldiers were now delicately rubbing and pulling on your nipples as he moved inside and out slowly, making sure your cunt would get used to the stretch of his fat cock.
"Such a good girl." He praised, one of his hands going down to gently rub your hardened clit as he started moving faster, your squelching cunt surprisingly taking him like a champ as his heavy balls slapped against your ass.
"Your tight pussy keeps sucking me in... can barely move." He confessed through gritted teeth, his eyes slightly narrowed as he struggled to move faster, fighting off the urge to cum until he dragged another orgasm out of you. His fingers rubbed your clit faster, groaning and panting once he felt your pussy tighten up, back arching as you welcomed your fifth orgasm of the day, yet there was more to come.
"Scheiße... let me cum in you, please, schatz...?" He didn't even know how he resisted the urge to cum for so long, yet as soon as you nodded your head, he started moving faster and faster inside you, basking in the way your tight hole was sucking him in before he pushed himself balls-deep, releasing his load all the way inside your fertile womb as your cunt milked him dry.
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hxltic · 9 months
Text
ghost yellin pt. 2!! (and 2k followers. omg.)
(mention of blood n knives n stuff in here)
pt. 1~~~
It was still early in the morning when your puffy eyes blink open. Despite the mission that had your arrival around 3-ish in the morning, it was still the crack of dawn, which meant the start of your day, mission or not.
The warmth you had longed for encased you, but today, it felt unfamiliar.
You hadn’t forgotten about yesterday (or earlier today). And even though what happened upset you, you’d still wanted him, so you could feel the comfort your father never gave you after an argument. You’d never received a genuine apology from him, just an offer for new shoes or to go to your favorite restaurant that day.
Even in anguish after what he did, you still wanted his touch. Or that may have been what you thought, because now you were peeling his strong arms off you, and creeping to the bedside. You cautiously swing your legs over and slowly step to the door, but even though you were going unbelievably slow, the pain underneath your feet made you wince.
“Wait—”
There’s a gruff voice that your back is turned to, making you jump at the realization he was awake. You had been taught all your life to fight when your fight or flight response flickers, but he noticed how you almost bolted towards your room.
He had been awake the whole time. He’d vouched to himself he wouldn’t close his eyes until your breaths were regular again, but even after they had, he’d barely gotten any sleep. If he had tears left to cry, one would’ve slipped.
Whenever he did fall to the night, in any circumstance, his body physically would prevent him from staying such. He was a light sleeper to another extreme. His body was trained by none other than trauma and instinct. So when he felt you raising his arm, he’d awakened and watched you do everything silently.
He would’ve said something, but he didn’t know what. An apology would sound fake in this situation.
Ghost was a hands-on man, so he moved. His large body flipped the covers off him and hastily brought itself to you.
The last time you’d let him get close, he screamed in your face. You took an involuntary step back, but had you thought about it you probably would’ve taken it anyway. His quick steps pause.
He gazes into your frozen eyes, glistening and pretty even in upset, but underneath carrying fear and shock.
Seeing him, one side of you wanted to apologize for not taking your job seriously, even though you did, or say you were sorry for the other things he mentioned. And you may have when you were 13, but you were a strong woman that built off men’s bullshit over the years, so you hold your ground.
He shrunk himself and moved effectively before you. No unnecessary movements.
“Please. Wait.”
You could tell he was trying to make his voice soft, but the octave and accent just did not allow it. He was trying though.
Do you book it, or stay?
You stay, to hear him. He recognizes your stance as one specifically military-taught, ready to move.
“I didn’t mean to yell at you. I should’ve been better,” he started. You’d come to realize even with small issues, he was an okay apologizer. “I’m sorry. You’re the last person who deserved that.”
He inspected the way you heard him but just stood there awkwardly. You were never awkward around him. In fact, he was the awkward one.
His heart dropped at how visibly uncomfortable you looked. He wanted to touch you—to take all your problems away, but it wouldn’t work this time. Not when he was the problem.
Ghost was the type of person to do anything for you, anything to get you back. You were the only one who saw him as Simon now, ever since the others died or were killed. He ruined that.
He let the mask get the best of him, finally turning into the murderous, scary man the world sees him as, everyone but you. You’d never been afraid of him, and he himself had changed that.
So in the silence he scans your beautiful eyes again, the brightness they usually reflect gone and replaced. You blink at him like a puppy. A small, scared puppy.
He’d made you cry. He’d made you cry.
He wasn’t expecting forgiveness, or your usual unconditional love, but the silence was too much to bear. He knows what he did, but he genuinely has no idea how he could make it up to you. Once you realize the conversation was over, and that’s all he had to say, you turn your head and limp past the doorway to your room. You were going to cry again.
But that was far from what he wanted to say.
He didn’t realize it when a tear of his own bundled up under his blonde eyelashes, a feeling so rare that people’s jokes about him being a robot could seem true. It had been so long, but watching you sadly walk away from him was enough.
The door was wide open, but he stood there, feeling more useless than he ever had.
These were the times he wished his mother was here. To tell him what to do. To spread the emotional knowledge of loving someone so much it pained you, something she had perfected over the years. Instead, he picked up the brutalities of his father. And he will never forgive him for that.
. .
You’d avoided him for an entire day, almost two, despite being in such close proximity and having to do everything with the squad. He didn’t know whether to leave you be or try again and again. Ultimately, he picked the first. That didn’t mean there weren’t subtle things to get your attention though.
He couldn’t think about yelling again. But it was only at you. So everyone else was graced with their lieutenant in a worse mood than he’s usually in, but they wouldn’t dare ask what was up or say anything to you. Actually, they had barely spoken to you like they had orders not to.
Ghost was rarely in the common room anyway, but now he was really tucked away in his quarters. He preserved his words, though even then they were still snappy. He had an attitude, yes, but he’d come to his senses enough to reflect and prevent himself from saying anything potentially hurtful.
He’d cherished the moments you had no choice but to be close to him a lot more than before, and his voice was barely even the tone of regular speech. Because now, he was scared.
He’d seen how bad relationships can turn, and it doesn’t help it was the man he’s seen all his life ruining what a woman gave him. He doesn’t want to be like that. And if he already has been, he tries to calm himself at night by running through his head “you’re already better than him by trying to fix it,” like a mantra. He’s cried the nights without you. He felt like he was floating away all the time, away from the Earth and the people around him. He barely knows himself anymore.
Little does he know, the time spent without him converted your sadness to anger. Rage.
He has the audacity to scream in your face? After all you do for him? After you put your life on the fucking line and take bullets for him every day?
With your father, it never did convert to anger, because you refused to let it. Being a child, you were way too dependent on him emotionally and physically. He was still your dad, you’d think.
And yes, while you loved Simon, there wasn’t the biological connection to pressure you to him. He was just a man. And if there’s anything you learned yourself, it was that you wouldn’t be pushed around by one.
So the day progressed on with an assignment. The troops were sent out, Ghost in charge.
He had made an order to surround the building, stay hidden in tall grass. A few would push in. They were armed and dangerous.
His voice was loud through the comms, going directly through the headset clear as day. Your team pressed forward alongside his. He had made every order around the fact that you needed to be right next to him, always in view, so he could keep his watchful eye out.
You crouched around the corner, waiting for command. You whisper in mic to your own squad, instructing them to watch for third-party while everyone’s idle.
The second he calls it, you all infiltrate right after smoke grenades set off. It was quickly cleared of the criminal within a few minutes because there weren’t many to take out, just a few in nooks and crannies, but one of them had caught you through a closet door. It had small blinded windows in it.
A quick sharp pain let you know there was a knife drilled into your side. It was small, and could be a lot deeper, but it still hurt like a bitch.
You had taken worse, so you gunned him down with a swift turn and ignored it. The adrenaline was medicine.
Once everyone returned to base with evac, people noticed the spot of red on your uniform but brushed it off as a battle scar. Until they saw the knife. It would be stupid to remove it.
“That looks pretty bad, you should get that patched up,” someone says. Someone you didn’t know, probably from another unit. You refrain from saying no shit and keep walking to the infirmary.
You finally decide remove it with added pressure to the wound, keeping the gauze close and the slim slit through your skin tight. The adrenaline was wearing off now and everything started to come back to you. You groan loudly when you touch it.
Red stains your fingers. It wasn’t deep but it had to be pulled out, and standing would be hard. You sit to see what you were doing.
“Fuck!” you yell.
The pain was ten times worse when you sat down, the fold of your body at the hip right underneath the opening. You feel like you could imagine the knife scraping other parts of your insides.
Suddenly the door opens. No one other than Ghost stands there, fully in gear, searching for the source of the cry. Once he locates you, you barely hear him murmur “bloody hell.” You glance up at him, then back down to what you were doing. He tries to ignore the equivalent stab in his heart at that, the one that matched the way his face drops at the sight of you. You would be able to see the white of his eyes through the mask if you’d look at him.
You were unconsciously trembling, attempting to mentally prepare yourself to pull the knife out slow. The man before you just watched.
“Get out,” you demanded.
“No,” he calmly replies. Once again, barely above a whisper, but heavy with accent.
You visibly roll your eyes and continue picking at the knife, trying to find the easiest way to retrieve it. Of course Ghost would take this time to be near you when you can’t run away from him.
He removes his gloves and opens the cabinets beside him, getting peroxide and other medical things. He walks to you with them in hand, and you bring it upon yourself to completely ignore him.
He steadily drops to a knee in front of you so you see eye to eye. You hiss when you pull at one side and it doesn’t work.
Softly, he breaks the silence, “When did this happen?”
No response. He was looking you dead in the eyes despite how horrible at eye contact he usually is.
“When did-“
“Earlier, Lieutenant.” You speak. He knows this was you digging at him. It worked, but he brushes it off.
He reaches his bare hands rid of the supplies up to help you. He was mad at nobody other than himself for not being there.
“Stop,” you shoo his hand away, tending back to your wound. Even though he wanted to help, he backed off.
To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing, and he’d probably had this happen a thousand times. He was inevitably better at medical anything compared to you.
“How did it happen?” He waits. Wasting time talking to him will have you bleeding out. The knife was a little under halfway visible.
“I was taking my job seriously, Lieutenant.”
He cringes at the words he’s shameful to call his own. He wants nothing more than for you to at least be on speaking terms with him, but even that he knows he doesn’t deserve. He sighs deeply.
“I’m sorry, let me help you. Please,” he begs.
“I don’t want your help, and you don’t want mine. So we can keep it that way.”
What he said that night was far from true; you did more than just help him. He was dependent on you. He surveys the way you hiss at the straining feeling, attempting to take deep breaths between tugs, but only making it worse. He won’t let everything you’re throwing at him break him down in this state.
“Grab it from the top, do it all at once. Then stop the blood immediately.”
You huff in annoyance at his words, causing yourself pain from your own irritation. But, he did know what he was doing, so you followed the orders. He inspects you.
You tug on the knife with a painful deep breath and moan at the pain, shutting your eyes. The view alone gives Simon whatever you’re feeling tenfold.
It only goes up about a centimeter. It hurt so bad though, your breaths were heavy and enhancing the stinging sensation. Your audible whimper was enough for the man in front of you to take action.
You almost forgot how mad you were at him from the pain, so when his hands reached up to you, you just let them. His right applied pressure to the sides. He couldn’t care that it stained his rough, pale hands. The left rests on your hand planted on the seat, then he instructs you to lay down. It’ll avoid scratching any more areas inside by stretching out.
“Relax. It’ll hurt, but you got it.”
You don’t respond to this, and stare up at the ceiling. You still didn’t want to look at him.
Simon has to remember you were still fairly untouched in comparison to his background in the military, the scars and scratches proof to where he’s been. He’s not used to being gentle. He’s around grown men for god’s sake.
And while he knows you’re strong, he wishes someone took the time to allow him some vulnerability back then.
You’re on your back, awaiting his next move. He hovers over you.
“I’mna to count to three, alright? I know you can do it.”
You blink, but he knows you can hear him. Somehow it hurts worse to breathe so your chest runs shallow.
“One,” he starts.
Were you ready? He was going to-
You scream loud enough to have the entire base questioning what was going on before he gets to three, but Simon’s face doesn’t falter from his soft expression as he accurately rips the object out of you. Your hands subconsciously reach for his, then grip him with a pure strength you didn’t even know you possessed. You yelled a long line of curses with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes until it all ended as fast as it came.
You were heaving and your face was hot, sweat gathering along your hairline.
“There you go,” he praises, his movements were quick and efficient. The tape was being placed over the filled injury. “Good girl.”
You were breathless, tired, and red. You wanted to lay down.
“It hurts, Simon,” you whisper.
“I know baby, I know.”
. .
You laid in bed with the dinner one of the soldiers brought you. Simon walks in sometime later, his hand cupped.
“You alright?”
He steps in beside your bed, sitting on the covers. He releases some painkillers right next to the water on your nightstand.
You just nod.
He nods approvingly back, then rests his forearms on his thighs. There’s an uncomfortable silence. An uncomfortable silence.
The ink on his arm was visible along with the scars he’s carried. Some new, some old. It’s a simple t-shirt that stops at the bicep, but he never likes to have his arms out because he’s never comfortable with them showing.
“I just wanted to say—”
“I…don’t want to hear it.” You shut him down.
“Please?”
His ocean eyes survey yours for some type of mercy, some hint you’ll hear him out again. He has concluded that he can speak, but the worst that can happen is you’ll stop listening. You can’t really walk away.
And this was the first time his please seemed to end with a question mark.
“I didn’t mean to yell, but I did, and it hurt you. Even though I just aided you, I did it as a partner. Not just a comrade. You are great at what you do, but you mean a lot more to me than just business—I love you, because you see me differently than everyone else.”
Knowing Simon, it probably did take him the whole day and a half to come up with that and relay it. This tugged your heart strings a little, but then it all came back to you.
“On top of calling me useless you yelled in my face. What were you so angry for anyway?”
Truthfully, he felt that had he told you the real reason, It’d make him look worse. But you deserved it.
“One of the soldiers in another unit looked into my background. Found out about an old mission and the people behind it.”
You hadn’t known much about Simon’s life, because he never talks about it, but you knew enough. It was the mission where he was set up. Betrayed.
You would be pissed too.
But his head hung low in shame, angry that he let an old part of him rekindle in the form of fury. He let out said fury on you.
“Regardless, it was uncalled for. Just think on it, yeah?” He pleads. He’s not sure what he’s telling you to think on, though he doesn’t know the active status of your relationship. But he understands how degrading what he did was, and he’ll never forgive himself for it.
But you already had an answer.
“I don’t have to think on it,” you say.
His head whips around, the sadness on his face replaced with shock, and the crinkles coming to form between his brows in confusion. He’d expected the worst, but the worst was what he deserved.
“I’m still very upset. But I don’t hate you. I want you to go to therapy,” you insist.
On the inside, Simon was thrilled. This is the best outcome, better than anything he’d conjured up in his head, and he’d been told a billion times to go to therapy. If it meant being able to hold you again, he’d stay the whole day on a little couch instead of downing prescribed medication that wasn’t working every night.
“I’ll think about what to do from there. But I don’t want it to happen again, because I promise I know what my decision will be the next time,” you declare. He took this message more seriously than he takes Price some days. There was a fire in your eyes to show him how serious you were, and that you’d get up extra close to him just to point your finger in his face if you could.
He understood you hadn’t forgave him, but was giving him some type of redemption. So he could prove himself.
And he was damn good at proving himself worthy of things, hence the Lieutenant in front of his name.
this a lil long. @thesecretwriter @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @jjmoonjj @bigmannico @bloodyquillink-blog @boggiesho @earth-to-lottie @e1fade @instantplaiddream @mentallyillartist @stillinracooncity @missborntodiex @rhyanna6012 @hao-ming-8 @starrrchiato @goth-boi-atlas @keiva1000 @pampeop @sleepy-time-dreamy @laurenbenoit70 @tojis-big-daddy-milkers @jstarrs23423 @madameducyberversailles @eri-channnnnnn @schmelscorner @commandertorinshepard @lua83727 @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @nyannyanmochi020 @p1nkliquor
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assassinsblade · 4 months
Text
Arrows and Ashes
You and Cassian are ambushed when trying to meet with Eris in the Autumn Court. When an interrogation ensues that leaves you permanently scarred, how will Azriel react?
WC: 4.7k
Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, gross gore, injury, violence, blood, vomit, all that kind of stuff.
Part 2
—————————————
Drip. Drip. Drip.
It was damp. From the cold, wet floor to the musty air and your blood-soaked skin.
How long had you and Cassian been here? How long had it been since Autumn soldiers had ambushed you in the woods of the Autumn Court, shooting arrows directing into the war general?
It couldn't have been more than a day. You didn't even think it was night time yet. But it felt like it had been an eternity.
From the interrogations to watching Cassian writhe around in pain due to the faebane arrows protruding from his wings... time continuously ticked slower.
You ached. Your entire body cold with sweat despite your lack of clothing. Dirt and blood coated your skin, and you tried to ignore how uncomfortable it felt against your normally soft flesh. You couldn’t though. You couldn’t ignore the situation you were in. Not when it only seemed to be getting worse, and you had no escape in sight.
You might not make it out of here.
You had left that morning expecting to return home quickly. You had left with a plan to meet Eris Vanserra and return to the House of Wind for a bath, to read a book, to have a nice dinner with friends, and maybe even get to spend time with your mate.
Azriel. You wondered what he was doing right now.
If you focused hard enough, you could almost picture him bursting through the cell door, blue siphons ablaze with power and face molded into an expression of beautiful fury.
But he wasn't here. And you might never see him again.
"Cassian..."
"Don't." He demanded. His voice was cracking with weakness, but he tried to sound resolute. "Rhys is coming."
He didn’t sound convinced, and you could tell that he was worried you were running out of time too. It might not have been long enough for Rhys and the others to be concerned, but it was long enough for the Autumn Court to inflict permanent damage.
You let out a shaky breath, grief already swimming in your chest. Grief for what could have been with you and Azriel if you hadn't been so scared. If you had told him sooner about the bond that had snapped for you. If you hadn't been so focused on him wanting you for you and not the idea of the bond.
“I need you to promise me you'll tell him."
Tears leaked from your eyes, and you tried to hold back your cries. You didn't want your life to end so sadly. You wanted to be able to speak with your friend, pretend like everything was okay, reminisce on the happy times you had with the people you loved.
Instead, you were laying nearly completely bare on a concrete floor, shackled, covered in blood, tears, and vomit. Your body had been taken apart, your skin flayed open, beaten. You thought you must look like an animal on a butcher's board, your body a canvas of gore.
Cassian was not unharmed either. When they had captured the two of you, they had shot him down with faebane arrows: a dozen or two of them. His wings were severely injured, and his power was subdued from the faebane. He had taken beatings as well, but when they realized how well-trained the general had been in withstanding interrogations, they turned to you.
Inflicting damage on your body was a way to get either yourself or Cassian to talk. They taunted him with your pain, and you felt guilty that this would most likely haunt him as much as it haunted you. Would he forgive himself for doing the right thing and protecting his court?
The two of you were on your way to meet with Eris to go over some plans when you were ambushed by Beron's men. Based on their line of questioning, they still did not know of the eldest son's plans of a coup, but they were suspicious of the Night Court presence in their land.
They used the opportunity to not just ask why you were there, but to interrogate you about the new Night Court addition: Nyx. They wanted to know about his powers, how strong he seemed to be, if he can be used as a weapon, how many guards are constantly with him...
But you and Cassian would never betray your family nor your court.
So when Cassian refused to answer, and the whip came down on your torso, you tried to block out his yells, his growls, his apologies. You tried to block out the pain as the leather cleaved into your skin, flaying it open until muscle showed. You focused on what you would do when you got out of here; how you would go to the library with Nesta and pick out new books, how you would go shopping with Mor, how you would go flying with Azriel.
You focused on happy memories with your friends as fists landed on your cheeks, dug into your ribs. As Cassian took blows, you tried to remember the way he'd make you laugh, contorting his groans of pain into his teasing hums and chuckles.
But as you laid in a pool of your own blood, the taunts of the soldiers echoed in your head, and you knew what was coming.
Your wings would be next to go, and with that, so would you.
Despite yourself, you wondered how Azriel would react. If he would mourn you, if it would hurt him as badly as losing him would hurt you. You wondered how Cassian would tell him about the mating bond, if he would have Azriel sit down first, if Rhys would be there for support as well.
"We are getting out of here," Cassian said, voice stronger and more determined. "And you are telling him yourself."
But then the cells were opening, footsteps marching down the hall, and three males were walking toward you with purpose. They gripped you by your forearms, pulling you up harshly, and you closed your eyes and tried to swallow your panic down.
The lacerations on your arms and abdomen from the whip were burning with a vengeance, infection certain to be spreading from the dirt pressed into them on the concrete. The males' hands twisted around your wounds, and you gasped weakly at the pain as they hauled you to your knees.
The shackles were connected to a hook on the wall, lifting your arms slightly, allowing them full access to your back. Your back that they had not whipped, because they were waiting for this.
"Daisy," he called your nickname -- the one given to you by Azriel when you all were only kids. "Look at me. Just look at me, alright? I'm here."
Your whole body was shaking, trembling with fear and anticipation at what was to come. Panic was suffocating you, building in your chest and making its way up your throat, and you thought your bladder might have even released with how petrified you were.
Cassian's voice was still echoing in the background, but you could only focus on the clanging of chains, the footsteps behind you, the sound of a sword unsheathing.
Your fingers dug into the shackles, fingers white with how hard you were gripping them, trying to steel yourself for what was to come.
"Lord of Bloodshed..." one of the males taunted, spinning the sword around in his hand. "I think you know what this is for."
You drowned out the male's voice. His nasally, grating, voice that seemed to irritate your ears. You drowned out the words that would doom you, focusing instead on listening to your own breathing and heart beat.
You were alive. You were strong.
There was silence after a while, and you squeezed your eyes shut, gritted your teeth, tried not to sob.
“I’m sorry, Daisy,” Cassian cried.
You tried to suck in a breath, tried not to let his protection of his nephew, his protection of his brother, of his court, hurt you. But the sword came down, and your lungs were not yet filled with air.
You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe.
It was like your limb was being torn from your body, nerve endings flaying open, on fire, agony coursing through your veins and sending a shock through your body all the way to your head.
You thought you might have made a noise, but you couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears, and your chest seemed stuck.
Blood splattered across the wall as he pulled the sword out of your wing. It hadn’t gone all the way through; instead, it had gotten stuck in one of the lines of thick membrane, and you gagged when he pulled it from where it had stopped, tissue separating with the motion.
It came down again, a hacking motion, unclean and barbarous, dragging through tendons and nerves.
You had never been in so much pain before. You thought you might be going into shock, your body shaking, stomach nauseous, vision going fuzzy, ears ringing with white noise.
You were only semi-aware of the burning coming up your throat, of the smell of your own vomit.
Cassian’s voice was muffled, drowned out in your mind, but you could hear the sorrow, the panic, the guilt.
Your hands were limp in the shackles, body slumped forward into the wall when the first wing fell to the floor with a thump.
You thought you heard Cassian retching.
And when the sword came down toward the second wing, your adrenaline now out of your system, you couldn’t help the piercing scream that echoed off the walls. You screamed and sobbed and shook until the hacking broke through the second wing too, slicing and grinding it to the floor.
Your entire body was covered in sweat. Cheek pressed to the wall, arms hung above your head but body hanging limp. You tried to stay conscious. You tried to focus on the sounds of Cassian’s sobs, the way he called your name and tried to get your attention. You tried to blink the dizziness away, tried to focus on the blood pooling around you into a large circle.
But everything ached and stung.
As the shackles were released from the wall, weight now imbalanced, your body didn’t even know which way to fall.
You landed in a puddle of your own blood, urine, vomit, and tears. But you were too tired to move, too hurt to move. So you laid there, cheek pressed into the sticky, hot, red liquid, and watched as your friend begged you to stay awake.
Breath stuttering in your chest, blood wavering in front of your mouth with each heave, you reached a hand out to your friend. Just barely. With only enough strength to inch your fingers forward, your body twitching with pain and exertion, you made the motion, tried to communicate that you did not blame him, that you understood, even if your chest ached with hurt.
And then you were going in and out of darkness.
There were times you could hear voices, ones you recognized. Other times it was peacefully quiet. You tried to bask in those moments, where there was no pain or noise—only you and your mind. Where you could pretend like everything was fine and you and Cassian had never left for the Autumn Court early that morning. Or that you had met with Eris as planned, gotten the intel you needed, and returned in time for supper.
But those voices would interrupt your peaceful state, arguing and panicking.
You’d hear glimpses.
You make one wrong touch and you’re dead.
Big threats from a bedridden brute.
You were only brought back to full consciousness briefly when you felt a searing hot pain in your back, pulling you from your sleep gasping for air.
You were on fire, dear gods, you were burning alive.
And then Cassian was in your eyesight, his hazel eyes shining with concern. His hand reached out to cradle your head where it laid atop a pillow, the other stretched across the tops of your shoulders to keep you held down onto the table.
“I know, I know,” he reassured quickly. “It’s okay. It’ll be over soon. You’re okay.”
But you didn’t believe him. How could you be okay when you felt like this? When you didn't even understand what was happening?
You were choking on your own cries, on the tears and drool pooling in your mouth. Cassian tried to wipe them away, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, whispering encouraging words into your ear.
Your fingers grasped at the wood underneath you, your legs kicking at an invisible weight holding your lower half down.
“Please-“ your voice shook as your body trembled. “Stop.”
You could feel yourself losing consciousness again, your vision going spotty, the pain too much for your weak, shocked body to handle.
“Eris…” Cassian warned, his tone threatening.
“Do you want her to live?”
You didn’t think you would live past this though. This was unbearable. Pure hot torture raging across the skin of your back and melting the muscle, nerves, and bone.
Distantly, you realized what they were doing. They were cauterizing the wounds. Burning the flesh to stop the bleeding, to give you a chance at healing before it was too late.
Mouth dry, your voice gave out, and you let out hoarse squeaks of pain.
It could have been sixty seconds or five minutes, but it felt like an eternity before the weight on your legs shifted, and the fire edged away.
Your lashes and cheeks were wet with your tears, tongue bitten in your screaming. And as you tried to breathe again, tried to focus on Cassian’s voice as he addressed Eris, on his hand stroking your hair back, you thought of where you could be. If you were actually going to make it back to the Night Court, if you were actually going to survive this.
Gruesome lashes ached on your legs, abdomen, and arms. The weightlessness at your back paired with the smell of burnt flesh brought an image of barbecue to your brain that had you gagging again.
You might survive, but your body wouldn’t. This was no longer you, no longer the body you would have willingly given to Azriel, with the glowing bond in its chest he remained unaware about.
It was hacked and burnt and damaged and-
“We’re gonna get you home,” you heard Cassian speaking softly to you.
Eris moved around in the background, gathering and packing up supplies in another room of whatever isolated home he had brought you to. You never thought you’d be so grateful to see the auburn-haired male, or that he’d actually put his ass on the line to save you, but here he was.
Had he heard you were captured upon your missed meeting? Did he release you himself?
You knew he would have to find a way to explain how you two got out from the cells. It would most likely end in some form of physical abuse toward him from Beron. The thought made your stomach turn with more sorrow and guilt.
“Eris sent a letter to Rhys. He knows where we are, and he’ll be here soon.”
You let the words comfort you, your eyes fluttering shut and muscles trying to relax after being attacked.
A sharp pain separate from the physical torture you endured burned in your heart, though, as you realized how everything was going to change. Your wings were gone. They took your wings, and with it any happiness or confidence you had felt.
You felt tears swim in your vision, your eyes so exhausted you could barely keep them open enough for the liquid to fall down your cheeks. Cassian immediately wiped them away with his thumb, his brow scrunched in concern as he watched you.
“My wings-” your voice wobbled, and Cassian immediately brought his head to yours in a makeshift hug.
“I know,” he tried to soothe, his voice pinched with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Daisy.”
Eris appeared once again, carrying a blanket and what looked like a loose nightgown. You only then realized how bare you still were from the dungeon and your injuries.
“Here,” the usually cold Autumn lord set the clothes to the side, pulling the blanket out instead. He draped it across your body, adjusting it so it covered from your shoulders to your toes. Cassian gave him a somewhat surprised and suspicious glance, but nonetheless nodded his head at the male gratefully.
“Rhys responded and should be here any minute. The wards are open to him. I assume he is collecting his own healer-”
Eris didn’t even have a chance to finish before shadows materialized in the corner of the room, an intimidating presence taking up the space and charging for the auburn-haired male.
“What the hell did you do?”
“Azriel-” Cassian jumped to his feet, pulling the shadowsinger back. Azriel’s eyes remained locked on the Autumn Court heir, though, his eyes promising a pain he knew all too well how to deliver. “He got us out. We got caught, and he helped us. Without him, she'd be dead.”
Azriel swallowed harshly, body tense with anger. He seemed to take the moment to consider the words, to consider if he believed in their truth. Ultimately, he dropped his hands and turned toward where you laid.
His face crumpled, all anger and drive deflating into devastation.
Feet carrying him over to you, he fell to his knees in the same spot Cassian had just occupied.
“Oh gods…” he breathed, shaking hand coming to rest against your cheek.
You tried to blink up at him, but your vision was still slightly blurred. You could still see the concern in his eyes, though. The way the green and brown melded together with worry and care, sparking the gold tether in your chest alive.
“My sweet Daisy,” he muttered to himself. “What have they done to you?”
Daisy. The nickname was sweet on his lips, sweet as the day he labeled you as his flower. The young boy who had taken a look at the young Illyrian female ravaging her horrible family's garden in a rage and had endearingly called her Daisy. Had compared her to the pretty life that could grow in a horrible place, in horrible soil that kept preventing her from sprouting.
You didn't know what to tell him. Your body still shook with pain, adrenaline, and shock.
You heard Rhys arrive, heard Cassian and Eris explaining what had occurred to the high lord and his healer. You heard Madja curse at the arrow wounds in Cassian's wings, and Cassian insist she help you first.
"You're going to be okay," Azriel placed a soft kiss to your fingertips peeking out from the top of the blanket. "And I am going to make them pay. They are going to regret ever touching you."
You tried to focus on his pretty eyes, his dark eyelashes highlighting the light hazel. He looked so worried, so hurt himself.
Shuffling behind you made your breath hitch, and then the blanket was being moved down your back, exposing your wounds to the cold air.
You winced, a sound you would equate to a wounded animal echoing into the solemn room. Azriel’s hand gripped your own, eyes watching your reaction intently.
But you watched as his eyes moved from your own to glance at what everyone else was seeing—what Madja was here to work on. His face immediately paled, his jaw clenching tight, and his fingers digging into your own.
Did it look as bad as it felt?
You wondered if someone would be able to find you beautiful after this. If Azriel would be able to look at your skin and see a pretty female and not someone who had been put through a meat grinder.
He swallowed harshly, ripping his eyes away from your back and locking onto your own again.
His chest was rising and falling heavily, as if he was trying to contain himself, reign himself in from exploding.
“I didn’t tell them,” you finally spoke. Your voice was hoarse from screaming and throwing up, and dry from lack of water.
Azriel looked as if you had hit him, and you heard Rhys immediately come to your side next to the shadowsinger. He knelt down and placed a kiss to the sweaty skin at your temple, stroking your hair lovingly before looking at you sternly.
“All we care about right now is that our friend is alive and safe. Don’t worry about anything else right now. I’m not.”
“They wanted Nyx,” you croaked.
Rhysand looked haunted but not surprised. “Cassian told me. We will figure it out and plan for the worst.”
You didn’t answer the high lord, focusing on your breathing as Madja began skimming her hands over the gouges in your back.
Violet eyes met your own, and the hazel eyes next to him watched the healer’s actions with intensity. “I will never be able to repay the price you paid to keep my family safe. I am forever indebted to you.”
Tears fell down Rhys’ cheeks, and you wished you could hug him, the male you think of as a brother. But then you thought of how odd that would feel for you—for him—to hug without your wings.
You remembered his story of being captured during the war. How he said he went through endless abuse and torture, but they didn't touch his wings. He had said that touching them would have been the one way to get him to talk.
But you didn't.
“I’d do it again-” you began to say, but you were cut off by Madja’s actions, a piercing pain shooting through you. You gasped, eyes squeezing shut and hand clamping down on Azriel’s.
“Rhys.” Azriel demanded. What he was demanding, you weren’t sure. But his voice was firm, strong, a tone you hadn’t heard him use before with his brother.
Rhys seemed to understand though, because he stood and walked a few steps to the top of your head, putting a hand there.
“Can I take some of your pain away?” He asked gently, voice still strained from the emotions he showed.
You could barely give a nod of your head with how badly your muscles were tensed in agony. But he saw it, and as you felt the mental talons drag along the walls of your mind, your tear-filled eyes met Azriel’s.
“I’m so proud of you,” the shadowsinger said, eyes gleaming with sorrow. “My strong Daisy. My brave, brave girl.”
And with some of the pain gone—there, but now slightly more bearable as the healer worked—you could breathe a bit easier.
Azriel continued speaking to you, distracting you from the work going on around your body. “Before you know it, we’ll be back in Velaris. We can go to that bookstore you like and pick out as many books as you want. I’ll read one with you, if you want. Even one of those romances you like so much.”
He tried to give you a soft smile, but it looked sad, and it made your heart hurt.
A rough twist near your back and a sob escaped your mouth. Rhys’ energy swarmed stronger in your mind, and Azriel was quick to lean forward, face inches from your own, eyes drowning in fear and worry.
“I’ve got you,” he repeated, voice heavy with panic. “Just focus on me. I know it hurts, but we’ve gotta do it. You’re almost done, sweetheart. Just hold on a bit longer.”
Your cries were becoming louder and you could hear Azriel cursing, could see through your tears the way he tipped his head up to look at Rhys in desperation.
“Can we put her to sleep?” He asked toward the healer, and if you didn’t know what he asked, the sound of his voice would have made you think he was begging.
It was silent for a moment, and you could feel Azriel’s hands start shaking around your limp one in his grasp.
Madja finally responded, sounding grim. “She’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t want to risk it.”
“What can I do?” Azriel pleaded toward the healer.
You tried to control your sobs, control the way your body convulsed at the touches of the healer behind you. But it was excruciating, the lack of wings, the deep tendons, muscles, bones, and nerves ripped from your skin and haphazardly cauterized despite possible infection. And now to try to fix the rushed burns, to check for infection and draw it out...
“Keep her awake.”
Azriel’s head dipped down for a moment, either in sorrow or in order to compose himself. But then he was looking at you, so lovely and beautiful you nearly felt like you were dreaming.
And he tried to sound positive, his voice going up a bit to sound lighter, but it was strained and not entirely convincing.
“I found that cat you have been following around Velaris. The stray that tries to sneak into the coffee shop? I guess some of the customers feed him. They call him Bix, and he lives under the porch of the place.”
Your vision swims as you try to pay attention to what he is saying, and his fingers lightly tap your cheek.
“I'll take you to visit him soon. Okay? I'll even pet him this time."
You tried to smile at the image of the stoic shadowhunter holding a cute stray cat, but even the muscles in your face felt heavy and lethargic.
"Maybe we can get you a cat," he continued when he saw you listening. "I know you’ve always wanted one. And Rhys would probably give you fifty now if you asked.”
His voice was soothing, and the more he spoke, the more you wanted to sleep. His presence was like a balm to the last ten hours, the scent of him, the feel of his hand in yours, the sound of his voice in your ear, all reminded you that you were safe again.
Rhys’ power rushed through you, and you could feel your body start to go numb, the pain ebbing away thanks to your friend and high lord.
Now you were just tired. So so tired.
“Hey-” Azriel sat up a little straighter, the movement pulling your eyelids open once more. “You gotta stay awake, sweetheart. You can sleep soon, I promise. Just not yet.”
But you could barely hear him. Your mind was already falling, vision warping into a blurry vignette.
Azriel was here. You were safe.
“Madja-” Azriel's voice became more frantic as he watched you start to fade. In a panic, he stood from his position at your side and gripped your face in both his palms.
His fingertips were gentle on your face as they lightly tapped, trying to get your attention without hurting you. When you didn’t respond, your heavy eyelids beginning to succumb to sleep, he began to tap a little harder, his strong hands trying to pull you back up.
The last thing you heard before finally allowing a pain free and peaceful rest to overtake you was Azriel pleading your name, a shuffle of two bodies, and then his touch being gone, his deep voice suspended in the room instead—a darkness trailing underneath it that would have had you on your knees if not for you floating into unconsciousness.
“Prepare for a war, Rhysand. Because if she doesn’t wake up, I will slaughter every last member of the Autumn Court.”
Before darkness enveloped you, you briefly wondered if their bodies would look like your own when he was finished.
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yuujispinkhair · 6 months
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Death's Bride
Death visits your village to reap the souls of the dying, and you end up making a deal with him. If he spares your sister's life, you will join him in his dark kingdom and become the woman by his side.
Halloween Masterlist 2023
Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Dark Romance, fluff, smut Word Count: 14k Warnings: 18+, smut, dark content, mentions of death, gore + blood. Reader has to take her own life so she can join Sukuna in the afterlife. Sukuna is described as a fallen angel who became the God of Death. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.
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You know this is no mortal man who is walking towards you with his white cloak billowing behind him as he strides through your village, carrying himself like a king, while you lie on the threshold of your small house, breathing weakly, clutching the bag with herbs to your chest. You know this is no man. You know that this is Death coming to your village to collect what's rightfully his: The souls of the dying.
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It started two weeks ago. A strange sickness took root in your village and spread like wildfire. By now, almost everyone has been infected. For some, the sickness is easier to bear, and they are on the way to recovery by now. But others are at the end of their strength.
You are the only one out of your little family who is able to get up while your mother and younger sisters are still bedridden, trapped in fever dreams and violent shivers. You went out this morning to get more herbs, taking hours for the task because you were so shaky on your feet, weakened by almost two weeks of fever, your chest hurting from one coughing fit after the other. But you forced yourself to keep moving. You had to. Your family needed you. You had to prepare more tea to fight their fever.
You dragged yourself through the streets back to your small house, feeling dizzy and nauseous but driven by desperation. But you only came as far as the door before your legs finally gave out, and you broke down from exhaustion and ended up where you are now: Lying weakly on the threshold in the open doorway, staring in horror at the scene in front of you.
A tall, broad figure striding with large, strong steps through your village, dressed all in white with a long flowing cloak with a hood that covers the head of the man wearing it.
It sparks a memory inside you. Old tales whispered to you on long, cold winter nights when you huddled together with your little sisters to keep warm, and your grandmother, who was still alive then, told you those gruesome tales about him. The one who could walk freely between the realms of life and death. The Reaper of Souls. The Fallen. The merciless, cold-hearted God who ruled over the afterlife and held judgment over the souls of the dead.
Hysterical laughter bubbles out of your chest. You cannot look away as the huge man leans down over a crumbled body on the ground. The cobbler, who was always so nice as to accept homemade pie in exchange for a new pair of soles. He was one of the first who was infected. And now he broke down in front of his shop.
The white-cloaked figure extends a large hand and brushes over the head of the lifeless man on the ground. His touch has a frightening finality to it. As if you can see the life leaving the cobbler's body.
The figure in white straightens up again, and the wide hood of his cloak slips off and reveals reddish pink hair and a face more beautiful and otherwordly than anything you have ever seen.
You draw in a sharp breath as you stare at him. Now that you get a clear look, it is obvious that your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. This man really isn't human. You are looking at a creature beyond mortal limitations. You are looking at a God.
He turns his head at that moment, and a pair of glowing red eyes trap you in their intense gaze. Your eyes widen, and your breath comes out in short, panicky huffs. You know you wouldn't be able to move even if you tried as if his gaze alone holds enough power to shackle you to the ground.
He is here. The Fallen. The Grim Reaper. The God of Death.
And he starts walking in your direction with slow, sure steps. There is no hurry in his movements. He has all the time in the world because, after all, he is the end of all time for the ones he claims or a neverending cycle of the same suffering over and over again for the poor souls he decides to punish.
Behind him, bright red splotches appear, and you realize that those are flowers, blood-red spider lilies that grow out of the dirt, building a small path to mark where Death walked. It is a horrifyingly beautiful sight.
He carries himself like a King, walking through these dirty streets as if walking down a wide marble hallway in a castle. You suspect that even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away from him.
His beautiful face is adorned with black lines. Intricate filigree patterns accentuate his angular features. The black symbols mark his otherwise flawless skin with a story of pain and sin. Your mind is suddenly flooded with the tales your grandmother told you on those winter nights long ago.
There once was a beautiful angel, the most powerful of them all. But he was too proud to abide by the rules, and so he was punished. His beautiful white wings got torn out of his flesh, and his skin was etched with the marks of the crimes he committed. He was cast out and cursed to become The Fallen. The one who claimed the throne of the afterlife, of the world beyond mortality. He took the reins, and from then on, his true name was forgotten, and everyone only called him by his new name, which was Death.
And now he is walking towards you. Strangely, you don't feel fear anymore, only fascination as you watch him approach.
He stops next to you, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. This close, you can see his face even more clearly, and your mouth opens in awe. He is devastatingly beautiful.
And so big. He is towering over you, tall and broad. From where you are lying on the floor, he looks like a mountain that is about to crush you.
"Are you here to collect souls?"
Your voice sounds weak and hoarse from coughing so much.
His glowing red eyes watch you intently for a long moment, and you think that he almost looks surprised for whatever reason. But then the moment is gone, and he nods. A slight smirk lifts one corner of his lips,
"Yes, but not yours, little one. It's not your time yet. Your body will heal again."
His voice is low and calm. He sounds soothing. Not at all how you imagined Death to sound. You were always scared of this mysterious figure you heard all those grim tales about. A terrifying, violent creature with blood-red eyes and monster-like fangs, a devil who brings pain and suffering.
But right now, you only feel calm. You feel strangely at peace with him here. His power emanates from him, so powerful that you can feel it on your skin and smell it in your nose. But it doesn't feel evil or threatening.
Instead, it feels comforting, like a warm bed with freshly washed sheets waiting for you to sink into and wrap yourself in its sweet comfort. Like the relief you feel after finally lying down after a hard day of physical labor, like the feeling of sinking into a hot bath that eases the tension in your limbs.
But that momentary feeling of peacefulness slips away again a second later when Death takes a large step past you. His feet stomp heavily on the wooden threshold next to your head, and with it, terror fills your senses.
"No!"
Your voice is a hoarse scream as you lunge forward despite your weakened state, your hand darting out to wrap around his ankle and cling desperately to it.
"Please don't go in there! Please don't!"
Your family is in there. Your younger sisters and your mother.
Your lips tremble, just like your hand, but you refuse to let go of the black leather boot that's slippery with mud. You cling to it, sobbing as you gaze up at Death through the hot tears clouding your vision.
He looks down at you, an elegant eyebrow lifted in a curious expression. He stares at your tiny hand wrapped around his ankle. You cannot tell if he is angry or amused about your pathetic attempt to stop him.
"Let go, little one. I told you, your time hasn't come yet. But I have to collect a soul from in there."
You are drowning in dread. And the words pour out of your lips, desperate and panicky,
"Please don't do it! Please take me instead! I am begging you, my Lord! Please spare them!"
Narrowed red eyes meet yours. He laughs softly and lifts his leg, effortlessly shaking your hand off. His low voice sounds amused as if you made a nice little joke.
"Look at you trying to negotiate with Death. You are a brave one. Foolish but brave."
Now you see how truly terrifying he is. Death knows no mercy. He doesn't just collect the souls of the old people who lived a long, fulfilled life. He claims anyone whose time has run out in the cruel hourglass that is life. He will go in there and take your mother or one of your sisters with him even though they still deserve so much more from life.
He looks at you with a cold, intimidating look in his red eyes. His mouth is set in a thin line, and his shoulders are pulled back, making him look even more massive. You cannot negotiate with Death. He is the God of the afterlife. There are forces at hand which every mortal is completely helpless against. Humans are all just little toy figures on the game board of the Gods. Or not even that. Just tiny, irrelevant grains of dust.
And yet, you cannot stop yourself from pleading with him.
"I don't care what you do to me! Take me with you! I am ready to die any death you see fit! Just please, please let my family live! My sisters are still so young. They deserve to see more of life! And they need my mother, she has to live too! But I am dispensable. Take me instead! Please! I will do anything you say!"
He watches you with amused eyes and a thoughtful expression.
"You're such an interesting one. You aren't dying, though. So I cannot take you to the other realm. But we could make a deal. I have to collect one soul from this house. I don't care whose it is. There is still time. I could still heal your sister. But only in exchange for another soul. You die, she lives. How does that sound to you? Are you still brave enough now?"
His red eyes watch you with an amused glint in them. Cruel excitement seems to fill him. You can't help but think that you are something like a strangely colored bug that he watches for his entertainment before he crushes it under the soles of his boots.
But you don't care. You refuse to avert your gaze, staring stubbornly into his otherwordly red eyes, your hands balled into fists as you nod.
"I agree. Please, my Lord. Please save her."
He chuckles softly, a low, amused sound, and his face lights up in a grin. He looks disgustingly delighted.
"I will, little one. But only if you seal a binding deal with me first. I spare your sister's life, and in exchange, you take your own life and let me take you with me. The moment you breathed your last breath, you belong to me, and I can decide what to do with your soul. I am in a good mood today, so I will be open about my plans for you. It would be a waste to send you back here as a curse that haunts your family. Instead, I want to keep you by my side. I could use someone who looks after my temple and warms my bed. I could use a bride. What do you say, little one?"
You can see that he is amused, that he expects you to decline after hearing his plan for you. But you don't. For a moment, you stare at him, horrified by what his words imply. But you shake yourself out of it, driven by a desperate conviction. You cannot let your little sister die today. You could never live with the guilt of knowing you had a chance to save her and let it pass. You will do what it takes. Even if it means following Death into his dark kingdom and giving your body to him. You swallow hard, lips trembling as you answer him,
"Alright. I will be your bride and look after your temple. I agree to your terms. Now, please hurry up and save her!"
More laughter falls from his lips. His red eyes glitter like two precious rubies. He sounds pleased when he says,
"You're a fearless one. I like that."
His red gaze never leaves yours as he reaches inside his cloak and pulls out a wicked-looking dagger.
"Here. Do it. End your life, and let me collect your soul. The moment your soul belongs to me, your sister will wake up from her fever dream and recover from the sickness that has befallen her."
You gulp hard, fear squeezing your heart tightly, as you stare at his large hand wrapped around the golden hilt of the dagger, his red eyes watching you challengingly, watching if you will really fulfill your part of the contract.
You are scared suddenly, your breath coming out in short huffs. You feel lightheaded, adrenaline pumping through your veins, making stars dance before your eyes.
Maybe this is how things are. No matter how prepared you are for Death, when he comes to really collect you, you feel fear after all. Fear of the finality of it all. There is no way back after you take this step.
But you don't hesitate. You press your lips together tightly and take the offered dagger out of Death's hand.
The moment you hold the heavy weapon in your grasp, Death's large hand wraps around your wrist, and he pulls you to your feet, making you stand before him.
He is so much taller than you, even now when you are standing. You have to tilt your head back to look into his eyes. He looks even more intimidating up close. Powerful, strong, unrelenting. A cunning business partner who is waiting for you to fulfill your side of the contract. A contract you pay for with your life.
You half expect him to taunt you, and it makes you clench your jaw and stare up at him defiantly. But to your surprise, there is no mockery in his low voice when he speaks up again.
"Have no fear. You won't feel any pain. I will make sure of that."
His words bring tears to your eyes, making them spill over with the hot salty liquid as your chest fills with comfort, finding solace in the fact that Death apparently knows mercy after all.
Your hand is trembling violently, but you bring the sharp blade of the dagger to your neck, gazing up at Death as you do so, looking deeply into his glowing red eyes as you slice your own throat.
The sharp metallic taste of blood fills your every sense. You taste it, you smell it, you feel it hot and wet running down your slit throat and your chest, you hear it gurgling in your mouth when you try to speak.
But Death leans down to take the bloodied dagger from your hand. His other hand cups your cheek. It's so large against your face. But his touch is gentle as if he is holding a thin, fragile porcelain cup,
"It's fine, little one. You did well. Brave until the end."
His voice is soothing. Low and calm, almost seductive. Like a lover luring you into his comforting embrace. You lean into his touch, smiling weakly when you feel his thumb caress your cheek soothingly.
Black spots dance before your eyes, and you feel so tired. You see his lips move, but you can't hear anymore. Your legs and hands feel numb. You fall forward, but strong arms catch you.
You feel yourself get swooped up into Death's strong arms and pressed safely against his broad chest. You feel him move as your head lols back weakly. The ghost of a smile tugs at your blood-stained lips. He carries you like a groom carrying his bride to the bedroom on their wedding night.
How fitting. After all, you are truly his bride now.
If you weren't so weak, you would laugh at the commentary your delirious mind provides.
By now, your vision has vanished completely. The only thing you are still aware of are his arms around you. It's peaceful and warm. As painless as he promised. You feel one last weak throb of your heart. And then it's only sweet, comforting darkness and the feeling of those strong arms carrying you safely across the border from mortal life into Death's dark kingdom.
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You wake up feeling rested and comfortable. Your eyes are still closed, and you sigh contentedly, snuggling deeper into the soft and warm sensation of a silky pillow and blanket.
In the back of your mind, some strange warning tugs, but you are too wrapped in the luxurious feeling of being well-rested after a good night's sleep to pay it much attention. You can't remember the last time you felt rested like this. It was hard since your father died. You are the oldest daughter and had to help your mother raise your younger sisters. You were the one who had to do most physical labor, working on one of the farms day in and day out. Your body constantly ached somewhere.
But not today.
You sigh happily, stretching your limbs and marveling at how soft the bedsheets and the blanket feel against your naked skin and how large the bed is.
That's when the little voice in your head becomes too loud to ignore. You blink in confusion and open your eyes.
You are in a large room with marble walls decorated opulently with red and gold murals. Red candles are flickering in large lanterns. A fire is crackling in a beautifully decorated hearth. The bed you are lying in is huge and definitely not made for only one person.
You gasp and sit up, looking around hastily.
There are two red pillows and two red blankets, and everything is made of the finest silk. As if you are in a King's bed chambers.
And, suddenly, you remember everything.
The sickness haunting your village. Your dying sister. Death walking towards you. The deal you made with him. The dagger in your hands. The blood. Strong arms carrying you. You remember him. Death himself. Your bridegroom.
Instinctively, you grab the blanket and wrap it tightly around your body, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Your heart is beating wildly, and it makes you feel nauseous. You still remember the feeling of your heartbeat becoming slower and slower before it finally faded away completely. You remember dying.
And yet you are here now, breathing, feeling the silk on your skin, feeling the thrumming of your heart. So very alive, even though you know you can't be.
And so very naked in a man's bed. Or not a man's bed. In a God's bed. In Death's bed.
At that moment, the large door opposite the bed opens, and you wince in fear. You clutch the blanket tightly against your body, staring at the door with wide eyes.
He stands in the doorway, his pink hair almost brushing against the doorframe. Tall and massive. He looks intimidating even without the white cloak he wore when reaping souls. Even the way he is dressed right now, as if he just woke up too, with only a pair of black pants on his muscular body. His feet and chest are bare.
There are more tattoos on his body, matching the ones on his face. Black lines decorate the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, as well as his strong arms.
He could almost be a human man. Almost. But those glowing red eyes tell you otherwise. Those are the eyes of a mythical creature. The eyes of a God.
And you feel like a small animal trapped in that gaze as you sit there on his large bed, naked except for the silk blanket wrapped protectively around yourself, unable to move as you watch him walk into the room.
He moves gracefully like a big cat, even though he is so tall and muscular. A slight smirk lifts his lips as he approaches the bed. His red eyes never leave your small figure huddled in his blanket.
"Ah, I see you are awake."
"What... what did you do to me?"
The words have left your mouth before you can stop yourself. Confusion and fear make you blurt out mindlessly. You are distraught by the memories of slitting your own throat, by the feeling of dying. And you are terrified by the knowledge that you are naked in Death's bed. Terrified by what he might have done to you in your sleep. On the other hand, maybe it would be better for you not to have been awake for what he did.
He falters for a moment, his beautiful face shadowed by a frown as his red gaze bores searchingly into yours.
"We made a deal. Can you not remember? Your life in exchange for your sisters? You agreed to follow me here."
You nod firmly,
"Yes, yes, of course I remember."
"When what..." he starts, but then comprehension seems to dawn on his features, and he laughs, sounding mocking, his eyes glittering amusedly when he continues,
"Don't worry. I didn't touch you while you were unconscious. Where would be the fun in that?"
Oh.
You feel some of the worst tension leave your body, a long breath you had been holding finally finding its way out of your lips.
"But why am I... naked?"
"You were dirty. Do you think I would let you sleep in my bed like that, full of dirt and blood? My servant undressed you and cleaned you and put you in my bed."
So you were right. This is his bed.
"Why am I in your bed?"
He huffs at your question as if you asked something utterly stupid.
"Because you are my bride. Of course, you sleep in my bed. We have a deal. So if I say you sleep in my bed, you will sleep here. Is that clear?"
You lick your lips nervously, feeling fear tingle under your skin at his imperious tone and the intense gaze out of those unnervingly red eyes.
You quickly avert your gaze, bowing your head obediently,
"Yes, my Lord."
"Sukuna."
You blink and lift your head again to look at him questioningly.
"What?"
"That was my name before I became Death. Sukuna. I want you to call me that from now on."
He sighs, and the stern expression on his face becomes softer when he adds,
"It would be uncalled for my bride to address me with my title. I am Sukuna for you. Your betrothed."
He says his own name with a slight tilt in his voice as if he isn't used to saying it. Maybe he isn't. It must have been a very long time since he told someone his name. Maybe eons.
You gulp hard.
How strange it is to be here with him. To talk to him as if he is a regular mortal when he is so much more than that. He has never even been human. He is a being so ancient and so powerful, so crucial to every mortal's existence, that your head spins just from trying to imagine it.
But you force yourself to be brave and look at him.
He is right. You agreed to his terms. And he did his part. He spared your sister. Now, it's your turn to fulfill the rest of your side of the contract.
You are still trembling and hugging the blanket tightly to your naked form, but you look bravely into his eyes and give him a polite nod,
"Of course, Sukuna. Thank you for saving my sister. I will be a good bride for you."
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A day ago, you were a mere mortal. One of millions who were caught in the hands of fate. Working day in and out to stay alive, always hoping, begging, praying to have more time and to see your loved ones live a long life too, while all of you were exposed to the threat of Death cutting your lifespan with his sword at any second.
Now, you are beyond that. You died, and you came back again. Brought back by Death himself, the Master over every soul who left the mortal world behind.
From this day on, you reside in the afterlife. From this day onwards, you will be Death's Bride and live your new life, or rather your afterlife, by Sukuna's side.
He tells you that you are free to move around in the temple. When you ask if you are also allowed to go outside, he lifts an elegant eyebrow and seems strangely amused, as if you asked something stupid.
"You can also go outside. But I don't think you will find anything interesting there, little one."
You don't know what he means, but accept it and take the fine clothes his loyal servant Uraume brings you. Everything is made out of the finest silk. A fabric so luxurious and soft that it feels like a caress when Uraume helps you get dressed. You gulp when the servant puts jewelry on your neck and wrists. Heavy gold and pretty jewels, red rubies that glitter in the same color as your groom's eyes.
Sukuna's temple is enormous and luxuriously furnished. Not at all like the tiny, shabby house you grew up in. But you cannot claim that this temple is better than your old home because, contrary to the vivacious atmosphere of your former home, Sukuna's house is eerily silent. A silence that feels haunting.
You don't dare walk too fast so as not to make any loud noise. You catch yourself whispering because your normal voice sounds too loud in these empty halls. It's a ghostly place. The silence feels too heavy, almost tangible. Something that can easily drive a person into madness.
You try to focus on the little noises that are there. The little signs of existence, like the sound of water flowing into the large bath. Or the sound of the doors sliding open and closed.
It takes a while to explore the whole place. To see all the large rooms with their rich tapestries and carpets. Gold and rubies shine and glitter everywhere. But a lot of the rooms look too clean, too perfect. There are no signs of someone actually living in them.
It is lonely here.
Maybe this is why Sukuna was willing to make a contract with you that would bind you to him and make you join him here. Maybe he was looking for a companion, or just a pet, to amuse him in this everlasting silence.
It is not like you are a servant here, as Sukuna made it sound at first. You assumed you would tend to him, clean his temple and clothes, wash and cook for him. But that isn't the case. His servant, Uraume, takes care of those tasks. They mostly remain invisible, like a ghost, taking care of everything for their Master, seemingly manifesting out of the shadows to bring you fresh clothes and oils and wine.
You ask them timidly what you are supposed to do, and they shake their head to inform you that you are just here for Master Sukuna's enjoyment.
A statement that makes a shudder run through you.
You have been here for three days, and so far, he hasn't laid a hand on you, maybe because he was away most of the time, apparently reaping souls on a battlefield.
But he demands your presence at dinner with him, where he sits across from you at a large table, and those gleaming red eyes never leave you. He is polite, asking questions about your day and how you like the jewelry.
And he joins you in the large bed every night, naked, with his tall and broad body full of solid muscles and black lines unashamedly on display for your terrified gaze.
You try to tell yourself it is the shock that makes you unable to look away from him when he undresses next to the bed and then slips in. But a little voice in the back of your mind whispers treacherously to you that maybe it is because Sukuna has an undeniably beautiful body.
"You're getting quite intimate with Death, my dear, aren't you?"
His amused low voice makes you hastily look away and hide your face in the silky pillow, heart racing nervously. His mocking laugh makes goosebumps creep over your skin. But he doesn't seem mad. He is just amused once again.
"Don't be shy, little one. Look all you want. You'll have all the time in the world to explore this body."
You bite your lip at his words, your body tensing up under the blanket when a large hand lands on the nape of your neck and slowly slides down your spine. Your heart is fluttering, and you don't dare breathe. But he pulls his hand away after a moment.
You slip to the edge of the bed, as far away from him as possible, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, knees pulled up, curling into yourself, instinctively trying to protect yourself as if it would help anything against this God in your bed.
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The more time you spend in Sukuna's Kingdom, the more you realize that this is really death. It is the absence of life, the absence of sound, and plant- and animal life. You begin to understand that the once graceful angel Sukuna really got punished. This here is his suffering, his punishment. The loneliness, the absence of life that so suffocatingly surrounds him at all times.
But he was cunning enough to cheat and take his chance when you offered it so beautifully to him. Now, it is the two of you here in this dead place.
It's truly a lonely place. Maybe that's the definition of hell. To be trapped in a beautiful temple that holds all the riches the world could offer but lacks life, lacks the connection to other beings.
You try to befriend Uraume, but they seem to vanish when they aren't busy with some task. Your attempts at chatting with them get declined with a polite but stern bow and a "Please forgive me, my Lady, but I must ask you to refrain from distracting me from serving Master Sukuna."
You meet no other being aside from Uraume and Sukuna.
The worst thing is the eerie silence. It almost drives you crazy. It makes you stomp your feet loudly just so you can reassure yourself you are still able to hear. It makes you slowly push open the large gate that leads outside in a desperate attempt to find anything living.
The rich opulence inside Sukuna's home is a stark contrast to what greets you when you finally step outside the temple.
A seemingly endless wasteland stretches before your eyes. There is no sky above you. It feels like you are in an enormous cave with a ceiling so high your vision cannot reach it. Eternal darkness lives in this place. Cold with icy winds and a rotten stench of iron and decay.
It's gruesome. Hopeless.
You press a hand over your nose and mouth and stand there wide-eyed, staring at the endless darkness in the distance. But as frightening as it is, the complete darkness in the distance is a blessing compared to what you see in the strange, dim, reddish light surrounding Sukuna's temple.
A vast crimson-red sea surrounds the island upon which the temple is built. The color and the stench make you ask yourself a question to which you already know the answer. Yes, this sea must be a sea of blood.
You shudder as you take a tentative step closer to the crimson-red liquid at your feet. You gulp hard as you lift your head to look straight ahead. There is a narrow path leading through the sea of blood, a path that is made of stones and other shapes. Shapes that look too similar to bones to be a coincidence.
But at the end of that path is something even more horrible. A massive pile of bones. It is so high that it seems like a small hill. And on its top is a large throne made out of skulls.
This must be the place from the tales you heard whispered.
Death's throne.
This must be where Sukuna holds court and decides on the fate of the newly deceased. Some will move on to eternal peace. Some will suffer forever in the fires of the afterlife. Some will be forced to return to the mortal world. But not as humans but as empty shells. As curses that were laid upon them by others.
A heavy hand lands on your shoulder, and you scream.
You whirl around wide-eyed, only to stare into the smirking face of your soon-to-be husband.
Sukuna's red eyes wander slowly from your face to his throne in the midst of the sea of blood and back again to your face, looking deeply into your eyes as he says in his low, velvety voice,
"I see, you found my throne. You can sit next to me up there if you wish while I pass judgment on the newly reaped souls."
You shake your head frantically.
"No! No, there will be no need for that!"
He raises an elegant eyebrow and huffs softly.
"Such a pity."
But he leaves it at that. His white coak billows behind him majestically as he strides back into the temple, and his soft laugh carries over to your ears, amused, maybe a bit mocking.
You follow him hastily, not wanting to be out here any second longer.
You plan to never set foot outside again after that. It's easier to pretend when you are inside the temple. It's easier to pretend that you are not in the middle of literal hell.
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You aren't sure how many days or weeks have passed since you arrived in Sukuna's Kingdom. Time is nonexistent here. There are no seasons. There is no night and day. You have dinner at appointed times, and you go to bed where you still slide to the far end of the bed. But you have no idea if the days have the same hours as in the mortal world.
It might be a week, maybe since you were brought here when Uraume informs you while dressing you in the morning,
"Tonight, the wedding ceremony will be held. I will bathe you and dress you in your wedding dress later on."
And you feel like you are falling. Falling deeper and deeper into darkness so absolute it feels like velvet brushing over your skin as it swallows you wholly.
You knew this was coming. But it still shakes you to your deepest core. There is something so final about becoming Death's bride. You know you will be here forever. You will be Sukuna's forever. Bound to him by a promise, by a contract, by a union of bodies, maybe by blood too.
The wedding dress is the most beautiful dress you have ever seen. White silk, so delicate it looks like a mere spider's web. Your skin shimmers through it. The dress clings to your curves, showing your body almost as if you are naked. It looks like the dress of a Queen. Or a Goddess.
"Master Sukuna wanted the finest wedding dress ever made for his bride. You should be grateful and wear it with pride."
The disapproval in Uraume's voice is evident as they catch you crossing your arms timidly in front of your breasts, trying to hide your body.
When you walk towards your groom, you hold your head up high, clutching the wedding bouquet of spider lilies tightly in your hands, your gaze glued to Sukuna's glowing red eyes, trying your best to be brave.
You play along and do what Uraume instructed, extending a hand so Sukuna can take it and let him lead you to an altar. You are brave. You don't flinch when Sukuna takes the same dagger that you took your life with and touches it to your wrist, cutting your skin lightly.
No blood is welling up from the wound. Another mystery. What are you now? You feel a heart beating in your chest, but you don't bleed. Is anything you feel even real? Or is the beating of your heart just a phantom sensation you remember from being alive and refuse to let go of?
You feel lightheaded as you stare at the thin wound on your wrist, but only for a moment because then Uraume hands Sukuna a tray with a small pot with a black liquid in it.
You know what is to come. Your husband is marking you as his, filling your wound with the black liquid, giving you the same markings he bears.
He doesn't kiss you but stands in front of you, so close that you feel his warmth. One of his large hands cups your cheek, his thumb brushing slowly over your lower lip before it pushes into your mouth and feeds you some of the black liquid he marked you with.
"Take my sin into you and become mine for all eternity. Be my companion in this eternal darkness, like I will be yours."
There is something in his voice and about his choice of words that makes tears prick at your eyes, but you will them away and repeat his vow.
He takes you that night for the first time, consummating your marriage by pushing you onto the bed, one of his large hands pressing your face down into the silken pillow, as Sukuna settles over you.
You clutch the pillow tightly between your fingers when you feel his heavy weight pressing your body down. You tell yourself to be brave and obedient, but you cannot stop a muffled cry from falling from your lips when his huge cock splits you open and claims you for the first time.
He takes you with deep, thorough thrusts. The initial pain vanishes after the first few thrusts, and after that, your union isn't exactly painful anymore, but it feels frightening how full you feel, how stretched out. You have never lain with a man before, but even if you had, you know no mortal man would have been able to prepare you for your wedding night with a God like Sukuna.
He is so big, so strong, taking you unrelentingly while you tremble in his arms, knowing you could never run from him even if you chose to back out of your contract with him.
His large hands are placed on each side of your head, his lips trail over your neck, sharp teeth grazing over your skin, while he snaps his hips and makes you feel like you are getting crushed anytime his heavy weight presses you down onto the bed.
There is no love in this union of your bodies, but it's not like you were as naive as to ever imagine your wedding night to be filled with love or tenderness.
You always expected to marry out of convenience. A girl like you couldn't afford the luxury of love when picking a husband. You had a family to look after. Maybe it would have been one of the farmer's sons if you were lucky. You would have given birth to his children in exchange for a relatively comfortable life for yourself and your mother and sisters in one of the big farmhouses.
You never were so foolish as to believe you would have a loving marriage. So this wedding night with Sukuna isn't that much different from what you were expecting in your future anyway.
And so you grit your teeth and take his cock obediently, letting him use your body to satisfy his desire until you hear his low groans in your ear when he finds his release and fills you with his warm seed.
You are a good bride.
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You know you aren't expected to work, but you find your way into the large kitchen anyway, standing behind Uraume as they prepare a meal.
Sukuna has been gone the whole day, and there is only so much staring at the ceiling while lying in your bed that you can do before you inevitably go insane. So you went in search of the only other living being down here, hoping they wouldn't send you away.
"Do you need help with the cooking? Can I maybe chop some ingredients or something?"
Sukuna's servant sends you a cold gaze over their shoulder, looking at you as if you offended them by the suggestion alone.
"I have spent eons preparing Master Sukuna's meals, my Lady. I don't need any help. And you aren't a servant here. You should do other things."
"But... but that's not what I meant. I am sorry if I offended you. The food you cook is always perfect. I just...I am looking for something to do and for some company maybe. Can I please assist you? There is nothing else to do here."
Uraume sighs, but they nod slightly, and you feel relief wash over you. They wave you over, hand you a knife, and point to a cutting board where a small pile of vegetables is waiting to get sliced into little pieces. You smile at Uraume and murmur a soft thanks, going to work immediately.
"Uraume? Can I ask you something? Does Sukuna even need to eat?"
It's something you have been curious about since the first time you sat across from him at the large dining table. You don't feel any hunger since you woke up here in the afterlife. Why would someone who is already dead need food? But you eat because you feel like it is required of you in your role as Sukuna's bride. It made you wonder, though. Why would a powerful being like Sukuna need to eat? Or does he just do it because he likes the sensation of eating?
Uraume watches you warily for a long moment, probably contemplating whether they should chat with you about Sukuna. In the end, they sigh softly and answer you,
"Master Sukuna doesn't need any food. But he wants to eat."
Uraume hesitates for a moment, their hand with the knife hovering over the meat they are currently chopping, but then they add softly,
"In the heavenly realms, they have big feasts all the time with as much food and wine as one can imagine. Even after The Fall, Master Sukuna didn't want to give up on that. He was supposed to have a life void of all those joys, but he evades that form of punishment by consuming the food I prepare for him with ingredients I collect from the mortal world. Of course, it's not quite the same taste as the foods prepared in the celestial realm, but for the ingredients I can obtain, it is the best food he can get."
It makes sense.
You can't help but chuckle softly as you realize that eating a four-course meal every night is Sukuna's little ongoing rebellion against the ones who turned him into The Fallen.
It somehow makes you see your husband in a different light. It makes him seem a little more human. A little more relatable. You have been there, too, several times, feeling the desire to do something out of spite when someone tries to forbid you something.
That evening, you watch him closely while he eats the meal Uraume and you prepared for him. For the first time, you take in how much he seems to treasure the food served to him. He takes his time eating it, letting it melt slowly on his tongue, taking in all the different flavors, and his eyes close in pleasure when he savors the taste.
It almost makes you feel sorry for him and for what he lost when he got cast out of heaven.
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You never wanted to set foot outside the temple again after seeing the endless wasteland and the sea of blood. But your curiosity gets the better of you when Sukuna informs you he will be holding court today, and you watch him slip into his white cloak and walk through the huge doors of the temple towards the path that leads to his throne.
You follow him after a few minutes, unable to resist the lure his words have on you.
A horrifying sight greets you. The sea of blood is filled with a large crowd of shadowy figures. The bloody waters are shallow, only reaching up to the knees of those standing in it. But none of them look down. They all have their heads tilted back to look up at the imposing figure who thrones over them. Atop the gruesome pile of bones, sitting on his throne of skulls, is Death.
He looks bored. His long legs are crossed casually one over the other. His chin is resting on the back of one hand while his eyes trail slowly over the souls standing before him, awaiting his judgment.
Eyes that glow blood-red, vibrant like two lights in the dark, standing out frighteningly in the dim light of the afterlife.
He is beautiful and terrifying.
You can see the immeasurable extent of his power and can even feel it as if it is a physical thing that surrounds you, making the air thick and filling your senses with dread. A dread that comes with the absence of all hope.
Sukuna is the King of the Afterlife. The God of Death. There is no escape from him. Every living soul will one day end up here and stand before your husband.
A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. You instinctively hug yourself even as your gaze stays glued to the scene playing out in front of you.
As expected, Sukuna is unrelenting in his judgment. There is no mercy to be expected when he makes his decisions. He isn't swayed by the cruelty of the fates of the ones standing before him, no matter how tragic they are. His decisions are rational and brutal at times. And yet, after you stood there for several hours and watched him, you have to admit that his judgment is fair. Of course, he won't revive anyone. But he assigns an appropriate ending to their lives. He punishes the ones who did evil. He transforms the ones who got cursed. He leads the ones who are innocent to their eternal sleep.
When the last soul has vanished in a cloud of red smoke, Sukuna gets up from his throne and slowly walks back toward the temple. His movements are graceful, making you watch him with a feeling akin to admiration.
His red eyes land on you, and for a split second, a surprised expression crosses his beautiful features.
When he reaches you, he stops next to you with a content expression on his face and a small smirk lifting the corners of his lips,
"So my bride watched after all, hm? I am pleased."
You nod at him, and to your surprise, you see his smirk turn into a smile.
One of his large hands reaches out and lands on your head. Long fingers brush over your hair, petting you for a brief moment before he pulls away again and continues walking toward the temple.
You feel strangely light-hearted when you fall into step behind your husband.
When he takes you that night, he is gentler in the way he handles you. He doesn't press you face down into the pillow like he usually does, but instead rolls the two of you to the side, entering you from behind while you lay in his strong arms and his large hands trail down your body, cupping your breasts and rubbing circles over your belly.
His lips graze your earlobes while his low groans and murmurs fill the room,
"You're a good little bride."
You don't know whether it's his words or the way he snaps his hips that makes you clench around his thick cock and exhale a surprised moan, as for the first time, you feel thick syrupy pleasure explode inside you and spread through your whole body in warm crashing waves.
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Your husband is often away. In the mortal world, reaping souls. You know that anywhere he goes, he brings devastation and fear. But when he comes home to you, he brings a certain comfort with him, as strange as it sounds.
You are almost glad when Sukuna's tall, broad figure walks into the wide double doors. It is very lonely here and scary at times when you become too aware of where you are, and the silence becomes too suffocating. Sukuna's presence brings comfort. His low, calm voice helps you drift away from that brink of madness you sometimes feel yourself drifting towards when you are alone with your thoughts for too long.
Your husband is Death, but to you, he is the only sign of life you meet down here, and that is enough to make you drift towards him when he is at home.
He is terrifying because of his role in this cycle of life and death. He is terrifying because he symbolizes the end. His position is terrifying. But the man Sukuna doesn't seem so bad.
He treats you well. He is polite. And as long as he looks at you and talks to you, you feel real. You still exist. You aren't gone. You aren't a ghost or a curse. You are very real and corporal.
You catch yourself following Sukuna around, watching him while he polishes his sword and the various daggers he carries. Watching him when he sits comfortably on the bed with books spread around him, reading and making notes.
His red eyes find yours and narrow in a frown.
"You've been staring at me for half an hour. Do you have nothing to entertain yourself with? What are you usually doing while I am away?"
The question catches you off guard. Is he mad at you? Is he accusing you of being lazy?
You look nervously at him,
"There isn't a lot to do here... I mostly just... wait? I sleep a lot, I take baths, and I help Uraume in the kitchen. Is there anything you want me to do?"
He blinks at you and shrugs.
"Why don't you find a past time? I showed you my library. Why don't you spend your days there and read?"
You feel shame wash over you. You get treated like a noble woman here by the King's side. But you have always been just a poor peasant from a dirty little village where the only thing that mattered was physical labor.
"I never learned how to read."
Sukuna's red eyes widen, and he stares at you for a long moment before he finally says firmly,
"Follow me."
He gets up and walks toward the door without bothering to check if you follow him. A man who is used to everyone obeying his commands.
You quickly scramble to your feet, bunch up your dress, and do as he says. You have to walk fast to keep up with Sukuna's large steps, probably looking pathetic as you hurry after him. But he doesn't comment on it. There is an amused smirk on his beautiful face, though, when he waits for you at the door that leads to his personal library.
It's a vast room with large shelves filled with so many books that you suspect he must own every book that has ever been written.
"Sit."
Sukuna's low voice is demanding, but you can hear the tint of amusement in it as he points one long finger to one of the large armchairs.
You nod and sit down, watching Death stride through his collection of books and pull several books from the various shelves, which he then places on the small table next to your armchair.
"I will teach you how to read. These are all books that contain very little text. We will start with those."
Your head snaps up, and you stare at him, caught off guard and astonished by his offer. Why does he care whether you have something to do in your time here or not? Why does he take some of his precious time to teach his bride, who he claimed is only here to warm his bed, how to read?
At the same time, you feel a shudder run through your body, feeling flustered suddenly as you realize that this means you will spend a lot of time with him.
Holed up in Death's personal library, where he sits so close to you that his large hand brushes against yours anytime he turns a page. So close that his breath caresses the skin of your neck anytime he tells you something in his low, velvety voice. You find it hard to focus on his words, too distracted by the warmth emanating from his tall, muscular body.
He takes you almost every night, but somehow, those hours spent with him in the library where he teaches you how to read feel much more intimate than the nights spent under his heavy body.
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Sometimes, Sukuna returns home as immaculately looking as he left. His white cloak clean, his beautiful face flawless. But at other times, he comes home covered in dirt and blood from walking over a battlefield or through a slaughtered city.
On those days, you help him shrug out of his stained clothes and then lead him to the large bath, where you join him in the hot water to wash the blood and dirt off his muscles.
It is something he demanded from you.
"Why should I wash myself when I have a perfect little bride to do that. Isn't it your duty to serve me? Now take off your clothes and join me in the bath."
At first, it took all your bravery to slip out of your clothes in front of his wolfish gaze and smug grin. But now, it is no cause for shame or discomfort anymore. You are used to being naked in front of Sukuna. Used to getting claimed fully by him.
But it's not just that, you realize as you slip into the hot water and walk towards your husband.
By now, you feel a certain pride in this. Sukuna is Death. He is a God. A being that seems untouchable with all the power he holds. But you are allowed to touch him. You are allowed to invade his personal space.
There is something so intimate about straddling his lap here in the hot water, naked skin on skin, as you cup his beautiful face with one hand and use a washcloth to wipe the blood off his skin and wash his hair. A certain bond blossoms between the two of you when his muscular arms encircle you, and his red eyes watch you intently, glittering like two rubies in the flickering candlelight while he lets you take care of him. There is a certain softness in the way he thanks you for cleaning him despite his former claims that this was your duty to him.
It's during one of those shared baths when Sukuna kisses you for the first time.
He has claimed you almost every night, had you under him or in front of him, or made you be on top and sit on his large, heavy cock while he lifted you up and down and rolled his hips to thrust deeply into you. He made you bury your nose in his pink pubic hair while he used your mouth for his pleasure, made you choke on his copious amounts of seed, or sneered when he pulled out in time to shoot it all over your face and naked breasts.
He claimed you in every way a man can claim a woman. But he never kissed you.
In all the months you have been here by his side, Sukuna never kissed you until this afternoon here in the large bath where you sit on his lap and wash the blood off his face.
Your face is barely inches from his as you scrub at the dried blood on his right cheek when you feel one of his large hands trail up your back slowly. A caress that feels too gentle for a being like him. Your eyes flicker to his, and you see him watching you intently with an unreadable expression in those glowing red eyes.
Before you can go back to scrubbing at the blood on his cheeks, you feel his large hand cup the back of your head and pull you closer.
Your eyes widen when Sukuna's lips touch yours. They are surprisingly soft. His kiss is slow at first, lips barely moving against yours. But it grows more passionate quickly. His large hand tightens its hold on your hair, his mouth opens against yours, and his velvety tongue licks over your lips before pushing between them.
You shudder, not able to tell if it is from fear or pleasure. But your eyes fall shut, and your hand drops the washcloth. Your arms link behind Sukuna's broad neck. You open your mouth willingly for him, letting him in further, licking against his tongue experimentally, surprised at the heat that it makes throb in your core.
A soft growl is heard, and you can't tell if it's coming from you or Sukuna. But you know that his arms tighten around you and that you press your naked breasts against his muscular chest as you push your tongue eagerly against his, caressing it with a hunger that you didn't know you possessed.
You feel an all too familiar hardness growing beneath you, but instead of dreading it, you press against it eagerly, allowing yourself to fall into those hot, red feelings of desire and need. Allowing yourself to dive into those stormy waves of carnal pleasure, embracing the comfort and freedom it offers you.
This time you shudder in pleasure when Sukuna's thick cock pushes into you. This time, you gasp needily when his large hands knead your flesh, and his nails dig into your skin as he lifts you up and down on his throbbing hardness. This time, you meet the snaps of his hips eagerly, taking him deeper, making the act faster and more passionate as you ride him shamelessly until you are both grunting and gasping loudly, and the warm water splashes out of the large tub anytime your bodies connect in those passionate and frenzied moves. Both of you cry out loudly when your pleasure reaches its peak at the same time.
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When Sukuna is at home, you can almost believe you are living a normal life in the mortal world. Of course, a life very different from your former one. A life as a princess, maybe, or a queen, who is living in a castle, wrapped in luxuries, with nothing to do except improve your newly acquired reading skills and help your loyal servant prepare decadent meals that you eat with your husband before he leads you to your opulent bed chamber where you both read and share the occasional laugh about an amusing passage in a book until your low moans fill the room while your lips and bodies meet in a passionate union.
You almost succeed in pretending that you are still alive.
Almost.
But then Sukuna leaves the temple to fulfill his duty as Death, and you become too aware again that the windows are only enchanted to show day and night and a blurry landscape instead of the eternal night and the nothingness surrounding Sukuna's temple.
And that's when you feel the unsettling presence of the complete silence choking you again. That's when you feel the absolute absence of life closing in on you again as if the temple walls are moving closer and closer to you.
You can only escape for so long into the fantasy world of the books you are able to read now. And Uraume isn't very helpful with how they seem to avoid you except when dressing you or cooking with you.
You catch yourself humming under your breath to comfort yourself. The humming turns into soft singing. At first, you feel a bit weird about how loud your voice sounds, but soon, you become braver and sing at an average volume, unafraid of how your voice fills the marble rooms of the temple with its clear sound. You are surprised by how many songs you remember. Songs from your childhood, folk songs from your village, popular songs from the big cities you heard performed at the harvest festival every ear.
You get so comfortable with it that you don't think twice about singing, even when Sukuna is at home. You only realize what you are doing when you hear him chuckle softly behind you, and you gasp and stop singing and turn around to see him standing in the open doorway, leaning against the door frame with his muscular arms crossed in front of his broad chest, his white cloak painted with the scarlet pattern of a soul claimed.
He smirks at you,
"Don't let me interrupt you. I am just unfamiliar with such sounds here in my domain. But it sounds lovely. Keep singing for me, my little bird."
You feel intimidated all of a sudden now that his red eyes are watching you, but you swallow down the nervousness and continue singing the song you were in the middle of before Sukuna entered the room. A song as old as your village, kept alive from generation to generation, speaking of the human longing for company, a home, a fire to keep you warm, and a love to comfort you.
Sukuna's gaze is glued to you, a strange emotion flickering over his god-like features. Something akin to longing, you think. Something akin to sadness even. But before you can wonder too much about it, he turns away from you and leaves the room without any further word.
When you wake up the next morning, you can't move. Your eyes fly open in panic, only to realize you are lying draped over your husband's broad, muscular body, your naked skin pressing against his, one thigh thrown over his hip, your head resting on his buff chest. And what made you unable to move are his strong arms that are wrapped tightly around you, holding you in their firm embrace while he is still fast asleep.
Your breathing calms again, and a small smile lifts your lips as you relax against Sukuna's warm body, letting his strong embrace pull you back to sleep.
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"Sukuna, look!"
You are walking next to him on the path leading from his throne back to his temple when you spot it. A bright green patch of color in the otherwise dim and monotone landscape of greys and browns.
You hurriedly walk over to it, only to realize that, to your utter astonishment, it seems to be a cherry tree sprout growing bravely out of the seemingly dead ground of this Kingdom of Death.
You lift your head to look at Sukuna, only to find him staring at the tiny sprout bewilderedly.
Before you can ask him what's wrong, he stomps towards the small flower, yanks it out of the earth, and burns it with a swish of his hand, making you take a hurried step back and gasp,
"Why... why did you do this?"
His eyes glow viciously in the dim light when he turns to look at you.
"A flower like that doesn't belong here! This is the land of the dead!"
He stomps away, his white cloak billowing behind him as you can only stare after him with a confused frown.
Why does a little delicate flower bother him so much?
It is later during dinner when you dare ask him again. Sukuna's gaze is stern, his expression filled with a cold rage that makes you gulp fearfully.
"You don't know why I am upset? Then let me tell you, my little bride. Nothing grows here! No life exists here! That is how it always was! But now you are here with your singing and your liveliness, and suddenly, a symbol of renewal and hope grows in the middle of my kingdom! I disturbed the balance! By bringing you here, I disturbed it! You brought life into the realm of Death!"
"B... but that doesn't make sense. I died. I took my own life to follow you here!"
"And yet, you are still so ... so full of life. It's not right!"
You gulp hard, instinctively trying to hide the hurt you feel at his words. You bow to him, muttering,
"Forgive me, my Lord."
"I told you not to call me that."
You don't answer him but just get up from the table and hastily walk deeper inside the temple, fleeing from his words that cut deeper than the dagger that you used to slit your own throat with.
Tears are gathering in your eyes. You cannot bring yourself to care about whether you are allowed to leave the table before Sukuna or not. If he wants, he can punish you later, and you will endure whatever punishment he sees fit.
You wipe angrily at the tears that spill over as you stumble into the library and close the heavy door behind you. Why does it hurt so much? You came here because you agreed to his cruel conditions. You sacrificed yourself to save your sister. It was supposed to be a marriage of convenience. Come here, get wed to Death, and warm his bed. It was something you were supposed to hate. So why does it feel like you are being ripped apart upon feeling like your husband rejects your presence?
You huddle into one of the oversized armchairs, hiding your face behind a random book you grab from the table in a fruitless attempt to distract yourself.
That is where Sukuna finds you later that night.
You lift your head from the open book in your lap when you hear the door opening and see Sukuna's tall, broad figure looming in the open doorway. His red eyes glow devilishly in the dim light of the room.
"Don't run from me, brat."
A sad laugh escapes your lips, and you close the book you couldn't focus on anyway, lifting your head to glare at him.
"I thought you didn't want to have me around. So shouldn't you be glad if I run?"
"I never said that."
"But you think something is wrong with me and that it was a mistake to bring me here."
You hate the way your voice breaks at the end, turning into a teary sob as fresh tears spill over and slowly run down your cheeks. You don't understand yourself anymore. You don't understand why this bothers you so much, why you are so hurt by his words.
You should be glad if he doesn't want to spend time in your presence! You should be glad if he decides to let you go and fall into the nothingness of eternal sleep! You should even be glad if he decides to send you back to the mortal world as a curse that lives in your family's house!
Anything should be better than being forced to live here in his temple and be bound to him! But here you are with an aching heart and tears running down your cheeks because apparently, somehow, during the last months, you grew attached to Sukuna, and somehow, knowing he thinks you don't belong with him makes your heart break in ways you didn't know before.
Sukuna stares at you, a baffled expression on his beautiful face. The silence stretches on, deafening, suffocating, making you ball your hands helplessly into fists.
But then your husband moves. Sukuna marches towards you with large, sure steps, and before you know what is happening, he grabs you and pulls you up from your armchair and against his tall, broad body.
"That's not what I meant. I apologize for my careless words. There is nothing wrong with you. I am just... surprised by what you do to me."
His words make you lift your head to look up at him, blinking against the tears as his large hand cups your cheek.
"I don't understand, Sukuna. What do I do to you?"
His red eyes flicker with an array of emotions. Regret, pain, longing. He looks so strangely human right now. As if he isn't an almighty God who reigns over this Kingdom of Death and has the final say in the fate of every soul who comes here.
His voice is soft like a caress, low and velvety, but filled with a sadness that surprises you.
"Don't you see? You made a flower of life grow in the depths of the afterlife. When you sing and laugh and hug me with that warm, soft body, there is so much life everywhere around me. I am Death. I am used to being alone. I am used to numbness, to silence, to nothingness. It is part of my punishment. But now you are here, and you fill everything with colors and sounds and warmth. You are a source of light in this eternal darkness. And it... it unsettled me when I saw the extent of your power."
You blink at him in utter astonishment.
"But Sukuna... you are Death. How could you be unsettled by anything? What effect can someone like me even have on you? What power could I ever hold?"
He huffs softly, a sound that reverberates in his broad chest.
"I have existed as Death for eons. And it was always an existence in solitude. It's the irony of being me. Death belongs to life. It is inevitable. And yet, everyone who lives chooses to ignore it. They push it away, they demonize it, they make a taboo of it. I was always just a fearful whisper. I am something the mortals try to pretend doesn't exist until their last moments, when all hope is lost. Their delusion is so strong that I can walk through the middle of a crowded city filled with mortals, and no one will notice me. That's how much they banished me from their existence. I am invisible to them. They can see me only in the moments right before they die."
He stops momentarily as if to let his words sink in while his gleaming red eyes gaze deeply into yours. Something about what he said makes no sense. You frown.
"But... But I.."
"But you saw me. Yes, I know. You weren't supposed to be able to see me. But you did. Do you begin to see what I mean? You talked to me, and I was greatly amused by it but, at the same time, utterly fascinated. Do you think I go around randomly making deals with people? So many beg me in their last moments, but I always ignore their pleas. But you were different. You weren't standing on the threshold between life and death, but you still saw me. That's why I offered a deal to you. I was curious. But I wasn't prepared for what you would do to me. I wasn't prepared for what it would do with me when you talk to me and eat with me and bathe with me or when you kiss me and lay with me and find pleasure in it. I wasn't prepared for what it means to be seen by someone."
Sukuna's thumb brushes gently over your cheek, wiping your tears away while his red eyes gaze deeply into yours. He is a God, yet he is so human now. His words make your chest feel tight, and more tears well up in your eyes. But this time they aren't for you. Those tears are for him. 
You realize that you are pressing your body tightly against him, wrapping your arms around him, and holding him. Hugging Death and looking at him with a gaze full of compassion.
"And I will keep seeing you, Sukuna. You aren't just a shadow. You are very real, and you aren't unspeakable or evil."
This makes him raise an eyebrow, his red gaze burning into yours.
"You don't think Death is evil? If you could, wouldn't you bring an end to it? Isn't that the ultimate goal mortals want to achieve? To defeat Death?"
You gulp hard but shake your head, refusing to avert your gaze but instead looking deeply into Sukuna's gleaming red eyes.
"No. You have a right to exist. Death belongs to this world just like life does. Why would anyone value their life if they knew it was everlasting? Many things are so much more special because of their fleeting nature. Your position brings a certain beauty to the world, a certain urgency, that wouldn't be there otherwise. Death can be cruel and unfair. But it belongs to this world. There could be no real value of life without you."
Surprise flickers over his face before it gives way to a pleased expression.
"I knew from the start that you are brave. And maybe fate sent you here to conquer Death after all. You definitely have conquered me."
A smile lifts his lips, so beautiful and flawless that it's not hard to believe that he once was an angel. Red eyes as beautiful as jewels glitter in the soft glow of the candlelight, making your heart flutter.
You look up at Sukuna, reaching out to touch his cheek too. He is so much bigger than you. Tall and broad. Death is standing in front of you, powerful and merciless, and yet you feel no fear anymore. His red eyes are soft when they look at you. His large hand is gentle when it cups your cheek. His voice is full of tenderness when he asks,
"Will you sing for me again?"
You smile at him and nod gently.
He picks you up and carries you to the bedroom, his lips finding yours several times on the way while your small hands cup his beautiful face, and you kiss him back eagerly.
You sing for him again when you are in bed, and he lies beside you, his hand playing with your hair. You sing even while he undresses you, parting your robe and exposing your naked breasts to him. Your chest heaves, and your voice flutters, but you keep singing even while Sukuna cups one of your breasts with his large hand and squeezes it gently, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple.
You keep singing, only interrupted by short, breathy gasps when his hand travels down further and slips between your naked legs. He is so loving tonight. His touch is tender, his large hands surprisingly gentle. Long, strong fingers caress you in a way that makes your whole body fill with heat. He isn't taking from you tonight. He is giving to you.
And you fall apart under his tender touch, spreading your legs for him shamelessly, lifting your hips to press your naked cunt against his hand, letting him feel how wet you are for him and how much you long for his touch.
You only stop singing when you can't form coherent words anymore, and your song turns into needy sobs and loud moans. Your hips buck, and you whine when Sukuna's fingers spread your creamy wetness over your folds and over your pulsing nub that he caresses slowly.
He keeps touching you, keeps caressing that little bundle of nerves that sends shocks of desire through your body, almost overwhelming in its intensity. 
Loud gasps of Sukuna's name fall from your lips. The heat and pressure become so intense that you think you can't take it anymore. Your tiny hand's claw at his large one between your legs.
But Sukuna is unrelenting,
"No, let me. Let your husband take care of his beautiful bride."
A loud, raw scream falls from your lips as the pleasure crashes over you in hot, unrelenting waves, and your body arches up, thighs twitching as your swollen nub pulses hotly against Sukuna's large, firm fingers. He keeps rubbing it, slow but firm, and you feel hot wetness gush out of you and over his hand while you scream his name and twitch helplessly in his arms.
He is breathing heavily, his red eyes gleaming as he watches you intently. 
"So beautiful for me, my sweet bride."
He pulls his hand away, but only to push your thighs wide apart, exposing your naked, wet heat to his hungry gaze. And his face gets pressed against your soppy cunt, mouth licking up your wet mess. Your hands tangle in his pink hair, tugging on it, crying out as your head falls back on the pillow when your husband pushes his tongue into you and licks and kisses you.
You fall apart for Sukuna that night on his fingers and on his tongue. And when he finally takes you with his cock, it is slow and intense. He faces you this time, kneeling between your spread legs and capturing your lips in a kiss when he sinks down on you and claims you with his thick cock.
He is everything you see and feel, tall and big, a mountain of muscles, and a cock that fills you so completely. He takes you with slow, strong thrusts that make you clutch his muscular back and moan his name while you chase peak after peak of blinding pleasure until you are so exhausted that you fall asleep right there in Sukuna's strong arms while his low voice whispers to you,
"You sing the most beautiful songs for me, my little bird."
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"Mortals always say they will love each other until death do them part. What do you think that means for us?"
Sukuna's lips are lifted in an amused grin as he asks you the question.
He is lying next to you, his beautiful naked body laid out for your admiring gaze on top of the dark red silk sheets. His chin is probed up lazily on one large hand as he watches you, letting his gleaming red gaze trail slowly over your equally naked body.
You smile at him, reaching out to run a hand down his muscular arm, tracing his biceps and the black bands around them with your fingertips before they wander to his broad chest. You let your small hand rest there, fingers sprawling over his firm muscles, right where his heart would beat if he were a living being.
"I would say this means nothing and no one can do us part. It means our love will last until the end of time, just like Death will."
Sukuna's large hand lands on top of yours, covering your hand completely under his. He sounds pleased when he murmurs in his low voice,
"My bride is not only brave but also smart."
You laugh softly at his words before you lift your head to look deeply into his eyes.
"Sukuna?"
"Yes, my love?"
"You told me I could sit on a throne next to yours if I like."
His red eyes glitter in the firelight as he cocks his head curiously, a small smug grin lifting the corners of his mouth.
"Yes, I did."
"Is that what you want?"
"It is your choice, but yes, I would like it if you sat next to me."
"Then I will do so."
There is respect in Sukuna's gaze when he gives you a nod to signal that he will set things in motion.
You know this is where you belong. By Sukuna's side.
One day, you will see your mother and your sisters standing in front of your husband's throne of skulls, but you don't fear for their souls. You will sit next to Sukuna when it happens and guide them to eternal peace, where they can finally rest free of all pain and worries.
You are Death's Bride.
You kiss him gently farewell before he leaves for the mortal world to reap the souls of the dying. You greet him with a smile when he returns, hugging him tightly and helping him out of his coat. You wash the blood off him, you kiss him, you talk to him. You fill his dark kingdom with light, just like he said.
And he lets you.
He even laughs softly when another little green sprout fights its way through the rotten soil next to the sea of blood.
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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! I didn't think this story would get so long, but once I started working on it, I got dragged into Sukuna's world and didn't want to leave again. The power he has over me!!
I hope you enjoyed this story!! Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!!
This is the last story for my Halloween Event 2023! I am so happy that I could write all the stories I wanted! Thank you so much to everyone who read a story (or maybe several) of this event!!
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