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metize · 3 years

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Valentione’s Day Chocolate

Emet-Selch x WoL (AFAB) smut Tags: Valentione's Day ; No Spoilers ; AFAB Warrior of Light ;They/Them Pronouns for Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) ; Gender-Neutral Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) ; Fluff and Smut

A/N:Emet smut! Finally posting my FFXIV fics on tumblr. Cuz I want to do headcanons and requests and stuff...... Anyways! This is just fluff and smut. No warnings just pure bastard ascian thirst quenching material.

You were resting in your room in the Pendants, sitting down at the dining table when Emet-Selch waltzed in. You were over trying to get him to leave at this point, the recurring encounters made you more accustomed to his insufferable personality.

"Hey! Stop it, this isn't for you!" You pulled the box of chocolates away from the Ascian, who already held one in his hand.

"Oh, please, you have dozens more on you little pile there, Hero, selfishness is not a good look for you." He said unbothered by your reaction. Emet-Selch gestured towards your stack of heart-shaped boxes, they were gifted to you by the people of the Crystarium all of them very eager to show their appreciation for the Warrior of Darkness.

"This one's different. This one…. It's from the Exarch." You mutter, tracing your fingers along the container.

"And? Is the chocolate any sweeter when it's handed to you by our friendly neighborhood hooded freak?"

"He's not-" you don't know why you feel the urge to defend the Crystal Exarch, but you feel very close to him, his devotion and wisdom are admirable and you felt a growing sense of fondness towards the anonymous Crystarium ruler. "I don't know why I'd even bother explaining these things to you." You shake your head, telling yourself not to waste your breath. "Looking at you Ascians I scarcely believe your kind would understand feelings."

Emet-Selch popped the round bonbon into his mouth before saying. "How cruel, Hero. I will have you know I feel as much as you do." He sighs disappointed "Perhaps even more, I'd argue." He muttered under his breath.

"Well then understand that this box is full of feelings, fondness, appreciation…"

"Strange, those don't translate that well into taste." He mused and crossed his legs "I must say I find your day of courtship is severely lacking. Is this all you do to show you care for another?"

You rolled your eyes "Well excuse us mortals for letting you down yet again." You close the violated box, sealing it back by tying the red ribbon over it. "Here you can have this one if you want candy that badly." You push a random package, pink and sparkly, towards Emet-Selch.

“Oh, Warrior, you shouldn’t have!” he feigned bashfulness and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “I am very flattered, oh look you even wrote me a letter, let me see.” There was indeed a small piece of paper attached to the present, Emet-Selch unfolded the card before reciting “Dear Emet-Selch,” You huff in amusement, curious as to what the Ascian would make up “I pale in comparison to you and your kind, I am so grateful for your selflessness and your assistance during my meaningless quests.” You crossed your arms, not surprised by his antics, but then you weren’t expecting him to continue. “We are sworn enemies and yet I cannot quell the flames burning inside of me whenever I see you. I want nothing more than be ravished by you, every night I touch myself to the thought of y-”

“G-gods! That’s it your Valentione’s candy rights have been revoked.” You grab the box he held in his hands, taking it away from him, your face burning up at his shameless smirk. “Do you have nothing else to do besides teasing me for your own amusement? Just walk into your creepy portal and get a hobby already.” You get up from the table, pretending to be cleaning things up.

“Ah, you’d be surprised at how enjoyable it is to watch you squirm.” But he got up right behind you. “So much passion, Hero. Who would’ve thought you garnered such feelings for me.”

“Pff, you wish. And there is no passion or feelings in that letter, who’s to say I didn’t just want you to fuck me and that’s it.” You turned around to face him. He was way closer than you expected him to be and you stumble backward a bit, yet he steps right back into your personal space.

“If I were to fuck you, Hero, it'd most certainly be with passion, I can assure you." He smiled and reached to caress your hair.

“You’re the worst.” You averted your gaze, embarrassed by the closeness and his gentle touch, yet you didn’t move away. Of course you didn’t, you were attracted to that bastard for some reason and you cursed yourself endlessly for it. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean just to get a reaction out of me.”

He grabbed your face by your chin, his touch now rough, forcing you to look at him. “I’ve told you before, Hero. I do not lie.” His tone is now low and he delights himself seeing you get goosebumps on your skin as he caresses your arm with his free hand. “Though I cannot deny how much I enjoy your reactions.”

It annoyed you how readable you were to him, every part of your body seemed to betray you and clearly show him exactly how much you were affected by his presence. You couldn’t even process the fact he started closing the gap between you until you felt his lips press against yours. You let out a tiny gasp in surprise, parting your lips slightly, he pressed himself closer deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue into your mouth. You started kissing him back and you could feel him smile against your lips, his mouth growing hungrier as he guided you back against the table you were just talking on.

You sat on the table, glad you managed to put away the gifts giving you some space to rest on. Emet nudged himself in between your legs, you spread them wider unconsciously giving him more space, welcoming him closer. “So pliant to my touch, dear hero.” He murmurs, his hands gripping your waist as he starts kissing your neck. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“Please… Touch me…” You plead softly before you can get too self-conscious about sounding needy. You’re instantly rewarded with the feeling of his gloved hand slipping under your top, reaching to play with one of your breasts. His other hand slowly unbuttoning said blouse, while he peppered your revealed skin with kisses. Once your torso was fully exposed you fought the urge to cover yourself as Emet-Selch’s persistent gaze never left your upper body.

“You’ve tempted me for far too long, Warrior of Light…” he spoke more to himself than to you, shaking his head before diving to kiss one of your nipples while his hand tugged at the other. You bit your lips to try and stifle your groans, but Emet tsked at you. “Don’t hide your voice from me, I wish to hear it.” He smiled devilishly. “The more pathetic you sound the happier I get.” To punctuate his phrase he blew on your slickened pink bud, making your breath hitch.

“Y-you really are the worse.” You shook your head, cheeks flushed at the way he played with your body as a practiced musician did with their instrument.

“Maybe so…” He mused, gripping your bottoms to undress you further. “But will I find you dripping for the awful being before you? How come my virtuous hero finds themselves in this predicament? Submissive, pliant, needy, beneath their villain’s touch…” He smirked and kissed his way down your body as your garments were pulled down, leaving you completely bare while the Ascian was fully clothed. The contrast made you shiver with anticipation, his words were going straight to your core, the sheer wrongness of this whole setting was infuriatingly arousing. Emet was on his knees between your legs, you could feel his hot breath on your skin. He looked at you straight in the eyes as he pulled his glove off with his teeth, right before using his now bare fingers to spread your lips open. “Maybe you’re not such a good warrior to your Goddess after all, are you? From here all I see is a depraved, needy little thing.”

“Emet, p-please…” His touches were fleeting and his mouth left wet kisses on her inner thigh.

“Hm?” He looked up, feigning innocence.

“Please I need you…”

“You are so greedy with your words, pray share them with me. What do you need of me?” His fingers gently rubbed your entrance, you moan still trying to sort your words out while he teased you. He sighed. “What is it, do you want my fingers deep inside your cunt? Want me to spread you open with my fingers and make you come on them?” You nodded profusely at his suggestions and he plunged a digit into your entrance with no warning pulling a gasp from your lips before he kept talking. “You want my mouth on you? Want me to use my tongue to bring you to completion while you whine and try to grind against my mouth?”

“Yes! Gods yes.” With that his lips were on you.

He kissed your pussy still stretching it with his finger, he added a second digit as he started licking and teasing your clit. You couldn’t help but gasp and moan under his ministrations, his hands reached everywhere inside of you and his mouth was absolutely sinful. You softly begged him not to stop, as his fingers curled inside you and his warm tongue circled your sensitive nub. You cried out coming around him, you didn’t even notice you had you hand gripping his hair until you were coming down from the high. You were aching still, you were pretty sure you’d go insane if you didn’t get filled with the Ascian’s cock in the next few minutes.

“M-more…”

“Insatiable little thing, aren’t you?” his usual condescending tone was betrayed by his visible erection. “Want your pretty little cunt filled with my cum? Broken little thing, you are…” Your vision was hazy, you were lost in both the afterglow and the arousal that was building up again inside you. You weren’t watching his movements, all you could focus on was his amber eyes blown out with lust and the filthy words he spoke into your ear, soon enough you felt his tip tease your entrance, rubbing it up and down against your slit.

“Don- Don’t do this… ah… to me.” you were tired of his teasing, it was bordering on cruelty at this point. “Need you inside me…”

That seemed to persuade him enough because he started pressing into your warm entrance at once. His lips went back to kissing yours as he bottomed out inside, the kiss was desperate and passionate, the way his mouth consumed you arousing you further as you felt his dick stretching your walls.

“All the way in…” he announced and kissed your forehead gently, giving you a moment to adjust. You nodded violently giving him permission to move already and he smiled at your eagerness. His thrusts started deep and steady, your moans filling the room each time he hit just the right spot inside of you. “Is this what you need, Hero? You need to be filled, hm? Only I can make you feel complete, my dear warrior.” He pulled your hair and looked into your eyes, as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “I see you. I know what you need and only I can give it to you.”

You cried out for him as his pace quickened, you could feel your second orgasm approaching quickly but you wanted to come to his voice speaking more filthy things to you. He noticed it too, smirking at you before continuing to speak. “Come around my cock, my needy broken little hero. Do it and I’ll give you my cum, I’ll fill you up like you need to be filled. I will ruin you for anyone else.” You moaned and scratched his clothed back as he fucked you through your climax. He didn’t stop pounding you. “That’s it, that’s my good little hero… Fuck…” He groaned feeling you clenching around him, his pace faltering until he came inside you.

The both of you breathe heavily before Emet kissed your forehead. You close your eyes still catching your breath as you hear the familiar ‘snap’ of the Ascians fingers, you open your eyes to find you both in bed.

“Didn’t take you for a cuddler.” you teased him as you felt his arms holding you from behind. “You’ll find I am full of surprises.” You can hear the smirk on his voice, you huffed before nudging closer to him and closing your eyes, sinking into sleep.

You wake up alone, a red box of chocolates placed on your nightstand addressed to “my good little hero”.

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olivinesea · 3 years

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A Mixed Blessing

Chapter List

chapter four: talking in your demon voice

a/n: It’s my birthday! So it’s Hotch’s birthday too. Warning for substance use, as you might have suspected. ~2.6k

Aaron’s fifteenth birthday came and went without any mention or change in his home. He’d grown past the point of caring or expecting anything from his family. It was enough to just make it through the day without being noticed. To make it through unscathed. After dinner he helped Sean get ready for bed while his mother cleaned and his father settled into his favorite chair to begin his nightly ritual of slipping under the veil of alcohol fumes. If everyone was lucky he wouldn’t get up again that evening.

After Sean took a bath, Aaron helped him pull on his soft red pajamas, cozy in the late fall air. Hair still damp, it stuck up in odd places around the crown of his head. He moved slowly, sucking on his bottom lip, seeming to be waiting for something. Aaron pulled back the covers, inviting him over.

“C’mon, if you hurry up I can read you a story.”

He didn’t move. “Aaron?”

He frowned slightly, unsure what was going through the child’s mind. “What’s up?”

Sean scrunched up his face. “Is it your birthday?”

Aaron laughed. “Yeah buddy, it’s my birthday.”

Relief immediately washed over the child’s face, quickly followed by confusion. “We didn’t have a cake.”

Aaron sighed. “It’s okay, I don’t really like cake that much.”

“But you have to blow your candles out and make a wish. That’s what we do on my birthday.”

Aaron looked at him steadily, his face still round with baby fat, blue eyes searching beneath furrowed brows. He wondered when he’d grown into this little person, forming opinions on the world around him. Sean had an acute sense of justice, a child’s insistence on fairness and parity being the same thing. Aaron shrugged a shoulder, “I don’t need to wish for anything.”

“Why?”

Aaron exhaled sharply though his nose, tired of this conversation, not wanting to get into a long string of why’s, just wanting to get out of the house, treat himself to his own birthday celebration. “Okay I have one wish: I wish you would get in bed.”

Sean didn’t move, exploring the limit of his autonomy. Aaron patted the bed, trying to ignore the irritation crawling up the back of his neck. “Please Sean, it’s getting late.”

Sean sighed, relenting but not moving towards the bed. Instead he walked over to the child sized table and chair where he kept some puzzles and art supplies. He carefully pulled a folded paper from under a stack. Aaron watched his brother’s determined actions from his seat on the bed. Sean held the paper close to his chest as he walked back to the bed. He seemed a little self-conscious.

“I made you a birthday card.” He paused. “I did it all by myself.”

Aaron’s heart melted, feeling guilt for his earlier irritation.

“Can I read it to you?”

“Of course, come here,” Aaron said, pulling Sean up on the bed beside him. Sean leaned against his side as he held out the card. Thick marker lines messily spelled out a birthday wish in shaky letters, jumbled randomly. Sean had only just begun learning the alphabet. There were a few unrecognizable designs that Aaron thought might be cars or birds. He smiled as Sean pointed to the letters, reading out his current version of what it said, a rambling child’s message of happiness. Aaron felt his throat closing, thinking about all the choices he’d been making, about how often he left Sean here alone with their parents, unprotected. Yet Sean loved him anyway. He didn’t deserve that love. Sean finished his recitation of the the card’s contents and looked up at Aaron expectantly.

“Thanks buddy, I love it.” He squeezed him to his side. “I love you Sean.”

The little boy rubbed his face into the fabric of Aaron’s shirt, making a small noise of happiness. An image of himself, faded and disconnected, flashed through his mind and he squeezed tighter, causing Sean to squeak in protest.

“Sorry,” Aaron muttered, releasing him. “Alright, bedtime for real. Lay down.”

Sean wriggled into his sheets, smiling to himself at the gift he’d given. Aaron pulled the blankets up to his shoulders.

“Story?” Sean asked hopefully but Aaron shook his head. He needed to go, the guilt was becoming unbearable. That he could be so irresponsible while Sean was here, perfect in his childhood, worrying about whether his big brother got to blow out birthday candles, was too much. His self loathing was threatening to overwhelm him and he couldn’t be around Sean when that happened. He needed to run, run to the escape he’d found in abandoned sheds and unused garages. Sean stuck out his bottom lip, ready to complain. Aaron just leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.

“Thank you for the birthday card.” He held it to his chest to show how much it meant to him and Sean smiled sleepily. “Sweet dreams, kid.”

Aaron ruffled his hair before heading out of the room, turning off the lights as he left, making sure the door was closed. In the hallway he looked at the card again, the brightly colored scribbles searing through his chest like a knife. He felt an urge to tear it up but gritted his teeth and folded it carefully, sticking it in his back pocket. He stopped in his room long enough to grab his coat and a beanie then slipped out the back door before either of his parents could notice him leaving.

He was going to meet Cole. He’d started spending more time with the older boy, time outside of school hours. A few times a week he’d find himself following him to various locations where other teenagers would be loitering, making the same dumb choices that teenagers had always made. He hated being there, uncomfortable and ignored. He’d tuck himself into a corner with a beer and watch Cole lord over the group, holding their attention with his darkly iridescent personality. Some nights they barely spoke and Aaron wondered if he was even really supposed to be there. He’d think about ducking out, heading home to the familiar loneliness that wasn’t him being forced to watch others as they became louder and dumber. But as soon as he’d make the decision, start moving in the direction of a door, Cole was always there, right at his side, grabbing his elbow, pulling him to a circle of smokers or handing him another drink.

Cole noticed how nervous, how uncomfortable Aaron was and if anything he found it funny. One night, as Aaron’s eyes darted around a crowded living room, Cole smirked and dragged him outside, handing him a cigarette.

“Here, something to do.”

Aaron didn’t like the way it tasted, didn’t like the way the smoke lingered in his mouth like he’d eaten a fistful of ash, didn’t like the sick, hollow feeling it created in his stomach. But he liked having an activity. Standing by yourself was much less noticeable with a cigarette in your hand. Time passed faster when punctuated by smoke breaks. However, he didn’t like always having to ask, like a child asking for one more treat. When he saw a pack in someone’s unattended bag he lifted it without a second thought. When Cole raised his eyebrows at him, questioning as he pulled out his own cigarette he felt a small smile of satisfaction curl the corners of his mouth. Cole laughed at this and held up his lighter, the flame just far enough away that Aaron had to lean forward to reach it. Cigarette lit, Aaron straightened, catching a flicker of emotion crossing Cole’s face. He replaced it with a humorless grin before Aaron could interpret it fully.

Not for the first time he questioned the wisdom of his choice to spend his time with this person who’s motivations he couldn’t pin down. He took a drag, feeling the smoke fill his lungs, no resistance, all sensitivity burned away at this point. He looked at Cole again as he exhaled in to the chilled night air. He looked pleased and Aaron couldn’t deny the warmth that it caused to spread to his fingertips. Cole winked at him before turning away to talk with a group gathered nearby. Aaron clung to the warmth, inhaling again to try to pull it back in as it filtered away with Cole’s attention. He hated to admit it but he would wait around for more of that feeling. He wandered to the corner of the building and sunk down against the wall, pulling his knees into his chest, ashing on to the bare dirt beside him. He could be patient.

Tonight would be no different he assumed. He’d developed a system. First he would check Cole’s grandma’s house since that was the easiest place to get to, only a mile or so from Aaron’s own house. If he wasn’t there, Aaron would go on to the shed in the woods, where, hopefully, Cole would be lounging in his feline way, watchful eyes and retracted claws at the ready. Sometimes they stayed there, sometimes he’d get dragged to some social gathering. Other times no one was there and Aaron would make himself comfortable on one of the busted couches, pulling out his own small stash of weed that he’d started carrying around and smoke until he couldn’t think straight. Only then would he wander home, when he got too cold to be there anymore and he was certain his family would be long asleep, his father too unconscious to hear him stumble back in.

Tonight he was lucky, finding Cole at the first location. He could tell he was home by the light shining through the small high windows of the garage. The door was partially raised but not enough to see inside. Aaron leaned close and knocked on it, calling softly,

“Hey, it’s me.”

He heard some swearing and some rustling as Cole came over to lift the door higher, allowing Aaron access. He didn’t bother greeting him, only turning away immediately to go back to his desk where he was messing with something small. Aaron was used to this behavior by now, though it had confused him at first, thinking that it must mean he wasn’t welcome. But Cole was just like that, sometimes so focused on him that it felt like he was cutting through Aaron with his attention and sometimes so distracted that he didn’t notice or even seem to recognize him. It still made Aaron a little uncomfortable, not knowing what he would be getting, but it wasn’t like he had better options for company.

He went and sat on the corner of Cole’s bed, just a mattress on the ground and the only other furniture in the garage besides the table and chair pushed up against the wall. There were some milk crates and cardboard boxes with unfolded clothes and other odds and ends. Some rusty and broken bikes and an old TV that turned on but mostly only got static. Aaron picked at a hole forming in the knee of of his jeans, waiting for Cole to say something to him, considering if he should start rolling a joint. He was unclear on the rules for this place; sometimes he’d arrive with the air filled with smoke and Cole lazily smoking on the bed. Other times he’d suggest it and get met with a sharp comment, something cutting about how he needed to calm down, not be such a damn pothead. It was unnerving. But it was Aaron’s birthday and he had been sober for too much of it. He pulled out his supplies, grabbing a magazine that had been discarded on the ground to use as a work surface.

“Put that shit away.”

He looked up at Cole who was unexpectedly standing above him, holding something carefully in his hands. He opened his mouth to protest, he really needed this right now, needed to get away from all these thoughts that were chasing him. But Cole glared at him so he set the magazine down, careful not to spill what he’d already put out. Pleased with being obeyed, Cole smiled and sat down beside him.

“I’ve got something better for you, birthday boy.”

Despite the whiplash of Cole’s demeanor, Aaron couldn’t help but feel a happiness that someone, this someone, his only friend, had remembered his birthday. Side by side now, he could feel the heat of the other boy’s body even though they were not quite touching, too aware of his presence. He chewed on his lip, trying to understand what he was seeing in Cole’s hands. It looked like tiny pieces of trash: some foil, a straw too short to drink from, something dark and sticky looking.

“Here, hold this.” He handed over the tiny straw, chuckling at the confusion on Aaron’s face. “When I light this you’re gonna inhale as long as you can and then hold your breath. Okay?”

Aaron frowned, “Sure.”

Cole held the foil so it was at chest height. He leaned forward slightly.

“With the straw, dumbass.”

Aaron blushed but held the straw to his lips. The smoke that filled his lungs tasted unlike anything he had ever had before. He almost wanted to stop, to ask more questions but felt Cole’s eyes on him, demanding he continue. When his lungs were so full he felt like they might burst, he sat up again. Cole placed a finger on his lips, reminding him to hold the smoke in. Aaron looked at him, trying to read the thoughts so clearly running through the other boy’s mind. He felt certain it wasn’t something he would like to hear. Just when he thought he might pass out from lack of oxygen, Cole dropped his hand. Relieved, Aaron exhaled, shaking his head at the taste.

“Again.”

“What? Why? What even is that?” He didn’t feel any different and he wasn’t particularly comfortable with how that had just happened.

“Shut up, just do it.” Cole’s eye’s flashed, his smile sharp.

Aaron stared at him for a moment, then relented. They repeated the process and this time Aaron started to feel a heaviness settle over him, like his body was being coated in warm syrup. He smiled unconsciously as he exhaled.

“See,” Cole said, his voice sounding distant. “I told you so.”

Aaron’s eyes even felt heavy as he tried to look at Cole, wondering if he’d said something without realizing it. He could feel his blood pulse, his brain vibrating like a cat purring.

“One more time, birthday boy.”

Aaron gave up on trying to turn his head, just leaning forward again to meet the smoke. He lost his grip on time, couldn’t make any of the shapes around him make sense. For a second, panic surged through his chest, he couldn’t move. A hand gently pressed him backwards, falling in slow motion, eventually meeting the softness of the mattress. He squinted his eyes at the light and the colors floating above him.

“Just close your eyes.”

He felt fingertips ghosting over his eyelids as he complied. He smiled, or he thought he was smiling at least. His mouth didn’t seem to be very accessible at the moment but he didn’t mind. He felt warm, the kind of warmth that came from fleece lined blankets and fuzzy socks and the certainty that no one was coming to hurt him, that he was so well hidden they could never find him. He was lost and he hoped to stay there forever.

chapter five

#Criminal Minds #tw substance use #aaron hotchner #young hotch #a mixed blessing

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xseildnasterces · 3 years

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give me one reason.

I’m feeling good. I’m not sure why, I just feel happy today. I’ve spent most of the day listening to music, relaxing, and just crossing things off my ‘to do’ list. I was off work today which was wonderful and needed. I spent most of the day just sitting on my bed rather than sitting in the lounge. I’ve just enjoyed not having a need to do anything or a need to be busy and be somewhere. I had planned to go on a walk this morning but got told by my boss everyone had to attend a webinar today regardless of whether they were off or not – which was incredibly frustrating. It was right in the middle of the day as well, so I didn’t want to risk going on a walk and then having to rush back, so I just did a few loads of laundry and chilled out. Even now, I’m sitting on my bed with my legs crossed and singing along to music. Once I’ve finished writing this, or when I’m at least half-way through I’m planning to go and watch a film. I haven’t watched a film for ages, and I think it would end my day quite wonderfully. Candles burning and wrapped up on the sofa in a blanket.

Dentist – I had my first US dentist appointment this week and it was wonderful. I was really anxious about it. Back home, my dentist is so incredibly rough. I leave every single time with a tissue as my gum or lip bleeds because she’s caught it whilst checking my teeth. I have been seeing the same dentist since I was a tiny child, so I assumed this was just how dentist were. I thought this was normal. I have now found out that that is not the case. I took some time deciding which dentist to go to and found a woman who has a practice a five-minute walk from where I live. I avoid men in all aspects of my life as much as possible, but especially in medical settings. I am not comfortable with most men. I find women so much easier to talk to and so I love the ability to select all your physicians here in the US. The dentist had always been awarded a Dentist of the Year award for 2020 so I felt as though I would be in good hands. I was. I told her that I was slightly anxious, and we talked through my past experiences. She was so gentle, took her time and was so much more thorough than my dentist back home. She even flossed my teeth! I also had full mouth X-rays, something else I have never had before. In the UK I have only ever had side mouth X-rays, but this was extensive! It was also the most painful part of my appointment. She told me this was because I had quite a small mouth, and the x-rays had to fit in with your mouth closed so I could feel the edges hitting the roof and bottom of my mouth, but it was only a couple of minutes of discomfort. We got to look at the x-rays together which I found fascinating. I have never known whether I had any wisdom teeth or not, but she showed me on the x-ray that I did but they were still deep in my gums and partly under my other teeth. She said given my age it was unlikely that they will ever come through – so that is good news. On the visual examination of my mouth she said everything was perfect, but on viewing the x-ray she said I had a cavity deep in between two teeth which is probably why it’s never been noticed before. So… I need my first filling, and I am scared. I booked my appointment today. At 29 I will have my first ever tooth filling. My mum says I can’t complain as I have done incredibly well considering most people have them so much earlier, so yes, I have clearly done an alright job of looking after my teeth! Due to my anxiety my dentist advised that I have laughing gas during the procedure. This is not something I have ever had before so I am very nervous and unsure, but I guess we shall see how it goes. It needs to be done and if it isn’t it will only get worse. We also discussed Invisalign which I am also nervous but excited about! My dentist say I am a good candidate for it due to my twisted tooth at the front which bothers me, but also because I have some overcrowding and it would really help to space and straighten them. I will book a full consultation when I am at my filling appointment and then I can begin treatment! I’m going to try and make myself look better in my 29th year. I have so many things I dislike about myself. I would never have plastic surgery, but I do want to improve some things about myself and I think starting with my teeth isn’t a bad place to begin. I intend to document the process on here (although not with photos… I will be documenting with photos, but they will certainly be kept private).

Therapy - Solo therapy this week focused on my fear of medical appointments. We discussed where this fear may have come from and I discussed my sheer fear of pain. I told about my painful pap smears, my time in a German hospital (including waking up being injected with something – and having no idea what it was), my painful dentist appointments, fear of needles and having blood taken. The list went on, but I was comfortable discussing these issues with her. We also talked in quite a lot of detail regarding my ‘muscle spasms’. We decided to go with this phrasing because the real name for my ‘muscle spasms’ just makes me uncomfortable. It’s just a horrible word, and as my therapist said, it sounds like the name of a yeast infection! We actually laughed about it and I feel really glad to have a therapist who I am fully comfortable with. We talked about how I have never really had the ‘muscle spasms’ with a girl, well not when having sex with a girl that I loved and actually wanted to have sex with. Anyway, that was solo therapy. Group therapy had little to do with my until right at the end when we ended up talking about wanted to leave the small town we grew up in and turning to the topic of childhood bullying. I found myself talking about the bullying I experienced during my time at primary school, and everyone seemed so shocked to hear what I had been through. Everyone was saying how they don’t understand how anyone would have wanted to bully little me because I was such a nice person and really sweet. That made me happy. It made me so happy that these people that I see every week and fully pour out my thoughts and innermost feelings too like me. They think I’m nice and sweet. These people like me! Me!! It made me appreciate group even more than I already did. I love these people so much. I love how we all show up for each other and support each other through whatever it is each of us needs to talk about or whatever it is each of us is going through. I’m not sure if I ever believed I would find myself loving therapy as much as I do, but the amount of progress I have made within myself over the last year of attending both group and solo therapy has been astronomical. I feel proud. I feel happy of my progress, and yes, I have far to go, but it’s going well and I feel comfortable and happy that I have this support.

New Professionals – Knowing people in high places in my profession certainly has it’s uses. J messaged me on Monday morning to tell me the congress in Abu Dhabi has been postponed to 2023. Next year the conference will take place in Rome. So what does that mean for me as a New Professional? I currently don’t know. J told me because he knows someone on the Executive Board of the ICA and had heard the decision from him. I was glad he told me because I had the opportunity to process it and have my cry and feel upset, angry and frustrated about it before we were officially told in my NP meeting. I felt very depressed on Monday. J and I talked for quite a while over message and he cheered me up a little, but in all honesty, I was devastated. I still am, but I guess I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that it is what it is and covid-19 has ruined things for everyone over the last two years, I am thankful I didn’t write here straight away as this would have been much more negative. On Friday during our NP meeting with the president of the ICA (which was awesome!), they told us the situation. They also said they don’t yet know what this means for us. No decision has been made, but we should receive an email within the next two weeks informing us of what it means for our group. Will we go to Rome next year? Will be miss out on a conference altogether. Will we just have a virtual event online? Whatever the outcome I will be disappointed, really disappointed and I do feel like the rug has been pulled out from beneath me. I feel as though I was given something and then someone pulled it away again. It just really sucks, but there is nothing I can do about it at all. It just is what it is, yet I believe I will find myself ranting about it on here on more than one more occasion but let’s see what happens.

I have more to write but I’m going to watch a film and write more tonight or tomorrow. I’ve started writing myself notes of what topics I want to write about, and it’s helping me to get all my thoughts out in a consistent and sort of concise (lol not at all), way.

[Blog title: Give Me One Reason - Tracy Chapman].

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Blind (Rajila) - Imposterzoe

AN: Not that anyone cares but this is an homage to my first fic that I wrote one year ago today! Thanks to Mistress for beta-ing and hope you enjoy. IZ

Manila had been staring at Raja for a while. She knew she'd been staring at Raja for a while.

"Nila, you're staring." Latrice points out.

She replied immediately. "No I'm not."

Latrice rolled her eyes. "Girl, at least try to be discreet."

"I'm not doing anything!" She insists.

"Then look at me for more than ten seconds."

It takes a second for her to tear her gaze from across the room but once she does she promptly starts a countdown in her head.

"Happy now?" She teases, trying not to turn her head.

Latrice stares at her. "Good god get a grip girl! You're drooling!"

She wipes her mouth on instinct, accidentally smearing her lipstick all down her chin.

"Oh great!" She mutters, grabbing a makeup wipe.

Her intense stare is turned to the mirror as she dabs at the lipstick.

"Damn Heather!" That damned voice cries from behind her. "I forgot how good you looked with your lipstick smeared everywhere."

Desperately trying to keep all her blood above the waist, she simply raises her middle finger above her head.

Raja laughs as Manila sucks her teeth, resigning herself to just redoing her lipstick entirely.

She grabs a few more wipes, trying not to focus on the thin, tattooed arm that bobs in and out of her vision as Raja talks to Latrice.

"Wait Nila, you missed a spot."

Before she could think, the wipe is plucked from her hand and Raja grabs her face.

She wonders if Raja could hear the sharp breath that left her as she was faced with eyes that were the deepest brown she'd ever seen.

Raja carefully wipes under Manila’s bottom lip and the concentration on her face had Manila's full attention.

"God you're beautiful." She whispers without thinking. Raja's hand freezes and her heart drops.

"Thanks Heather." She mumbles, releasing Manila's face.

She blushes, thinking fast. "Thanks for what? I was talking to my reflection."

They both break into laughter, relieved to have broken the tension. However, once the laughter dies down, they're left staring at each other, something unspoken in the air.

"Hey Raja, come here a sec!" Raven calls, yanking them back to reality.

Raja starts to go but Manila grabs her hand. She turns, staring expectantly.

"Uh... Drinks after the show?" She squeaks, her voice fully crapping out on her.

"Yeah." Raja responds enthusiastically. "Wanna just come back to mine?"

She smiles. "Yeah that sounds great."

"Raj!" Raven shouts.

"I'm comin'! Damn!" She calls back. She turns back to Manila, swiping her thumb under her lip.

Her eyes dip down and for a second Manila thinks she sees them darken.

"I'd hurry and re-apply that." She mumbles.

It occurs to Manila that she never released Raja's hand. It also occurs to her that she doesn't want to.

It's a physical strain to slack her fingers and her hand feels empty as Raja shoots across the room.

She turns back around to find Latrice has been watching her.

"What?" She snaps, digging her lipstick from her makeup bag.

Latrice rose and leaned into her ear. "Y'know, since you're redoing stuff I'd give that tuck some attention." Then she's gone.

Manila looks down and flushes as she sees her extremely obvious boner through her dress. How did she not feel her tuck pop? Did Raja see that?

She groans, laying her head on the table. "Of course she saw that. And not only do I have to reapply my lipstick, I have to rub one out in the bathroom and re-tuck. All in the next…" she checks her phone. "20 minutes."

A tired sigh escapes her as she raises her head. She swipes her lipstick on and definitely doesn't stare at Raja through the mirror. She just doesn't.

~~~~~~~~~~

Raja watches Manila scurry off into the bathroom and tries to ignore the urge to follow her.

"Raja!" Raven yells half an inch from her face.

She flinches before pushing Raven's face away. "What?!" She yells back.

Raven rolls her eyes. "God, you and Manila are gonna go blind, staring at each other the way you do."

"We don't stare." She responds, absently mussing her hair in the mirror.

"Liar. You guys have heart eyes everytime I turn around."

She rolls her eyes. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Mhmm sure. Just make sure you blink every now and again."

"Shut up."

She sees Manila emerge from the bathroom in the reflection, looking slightly frazzled. Turning in her chair, Raja watches her friend walk shakily back to her station.

Concern edges into her features and she wonders if she should go over there.

"Blink!" Raven hisses in her ear and she jumps so violently, she almost falls from her chair.

By the time anyone turns to look, all they see is a pissed Raja drilling punches into Raven's shoulder as she laughs hysterically.

And Raja doesn't blush when she sees Manila smiling at her. She just doesn't.

[...]

The show goes well. Or as well as it can with Raven whispering, "Blink," in Raja’s ear every now and then.

It would annoy her more if it wasn't whispered every time her eyes hadn't shut in 30 seconds.

She slid over to Manila, murmuring in her ear, "Drinks at mine, right?"

She jumps at first, but smiles warmly. "Yeah. You can go ahead though. I'm gonna de-drag and hit my hotel room first."

"Cool, can't wait."

And butterflies don't swarm in their stomachs as they part. They just don't.

~~~~~~~~~~

Karl lightly knocked on the door, ignoring the pounding of his heart.

The door flew open and he almost dropped the wine in his hands. Between the very low cut tank top and shorts Sutan wore, the amount of exposed skin was making Karl's mouth water.

"Jeez Heather, just kill me why don't ya." He jokes weakly.

"Ha ha." Sutan responds dryly, grabbing his free hand and pulling him into the house, slamming the door shut.

There's a beat of silence as they stare at each other, hands still linked.

"So…" Karl starts.

"So…" Sutan echoes.

"So… wine?" Karl hefts the bottle.

"Yup!" Sutan releases his hand and walks toward the kitchen.

He trails behind, plunking the bottle on the table while Sutan grabs glasses and a bottle opener.

"So why were you trying to kill Raven earlier?" Karl asks, attempting to break the tension.

Sutan snorts. "Because he thinks he's funny." He turns, placing a glass in front of each of them.

Opening the bottle, he asks a question of his own. "What happened in the bathroom? You looked like you lost a fight with the hand dryer."

Karl flushes crimson. "First off, the hand dryer fights dirty, so fuck you."

They both laugh as Sutan fills the glasses. He raises his in a toast. "Well then to lost dryer fights."

Karl taps their glasses. "To you going to fuck yourself."

"Fuck me yourself coward!" Sutan responds, sipping his wine.

"You're acting like I wouldn't." Karl mumbles into his glass, draining a fourth of it in one gulp.

"What?"

They exchange blank stares before Sutan shakes his head.

"You know what Raven said?"

"No I don't, Raja. Enlighten me to the wisdom of Raven." He picks up on the slightest hint of jealousy in his tone. He's confused by it.

Because he wasn't jealous. He had no reason to be. He didn't. Right?

Sutan swallows hard. Did his dick twitch ever so slightly in his shorts at Karl's tone? No, no of course not. Who finds jealousy sexy anyway?

I do. He thinks to himself.

"Uh… anyway. He, uh, he said that we're gonna go blind from staring at each other." God it sounded stupid out loud.

"We don't stare." Karl murmurs.

"Yeah I know. But he said we always have heart eyes when we're together."

"Can we stop talking about Raven?" He snaps, draining his glass.

Sutan tops him off, biting his lip. "Do you think we're blind, Karl?"

He sighs, swirling his glass. "Well I don't know about you, Grandma but last I checked I can see perfectly fine."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant but I think I'd know if I was in love with my best friend."

They both freeze, tension filling the room. Sutan takes a huge gulp of wine, eyes on the floor.

"Yeah uh, that wasn't exactly my point either." He murmurs, clearing his throat.

"Plus," he adds with a wry smile, "We both know you're absolutely obsessed with the beauty that is me." He strikes a pose.

You have no idea. Karl thinks as he chuckles. "Oh please. We both know you're the obsessed one."

"Why you so obsessed with me?" They both shout at once, promptly falling into hysterics.

They talk about nothing for a bit, polishing off the bottle and opening another. Before long they were well into the land of tipsy.

"Hey at least my tuck didn't pop!" Sutan cackled, in response to a quip he didn't really remember.

Karl banged his glass to the table. "I knew you saw that! Why didn't you tell me?" He demands.

"Why did it pop in the first place?" Sutan counters. "All I was doing was wiping off your lipstick!"

"Well if you weren't looking at me with bedroom eyes while you were doing it, maybe it wouldn't have popped!"

He snorts. "If I was looking at you with bedroom eyes, believe me you'd know." He smirks into his glass. "I mean, unless you're as blind as Raven says."

"Oh please." Karl rolls his eyes. "How would that even work? We're both tops."

"You'd bottom for me and we both know it." Sutan replies smugly.

"Oh would I?" He challenges.

There was a glint in Sutan's eye and he leaned across the table. "Most definitely."

Karl sighed, leaning in as well. "You know what I hate?"

He blushes as Sutan's breath hits his lips. "What's that?"

"I hate that you're goddamn right." Then he grabs Sutan's face and presses their lips together.

But the wine screws with his orientation and he hits Sutan's cheek more than his lips.

Sutan pulls back, hand going to Karl's neck.

"What're ya blind?" He growls before kissing Karl's lips forcefully. He quickly presses his tongue into Karl's mouth, tasting the wine at the back of his throat.

Karl's hands move down to his shoulders as he kisses back. He knows he isn't thinking straight but he couldn't care if he tried.

Sutan leans in further, grabbing him by the waist and walking him around the table.

He follows quickly, clambering into Sutan's lap. He whimpers as he feels Sutan's barely clothed erection against his own and Sutan smirks.

Not to be outdone, Karl grinds lightly a smirk of his own forming as Sutan moans into his mouth.

Sutan's mouth moves down to his neck and sucks hard. Suddenly he snaps back to reality.

"Oh fuck. Sutan wait, stop." He presses Sutan's shoulders as his neck is released.

"What? What?" Sutan mumbles, his eyes dark and his lips swollen. Karl stares.

"God you're beautiful." He whispers, one hand going up to caress the man's cheek.

"Thank you but why'd you wanna stop? What's up?" There's concern on his face and his hands move down to rub Karl's back.

"Huh? Oh nothing." He responds lightly.

The concern turns to confusion which turns to irritation. "Then why did you stop me?"

Karl smirks. "What're ya blind? No way in hell you're fucking me on this table."

#rpdr fanfiction #raja gemini #manila luzon #latrice royale #raven #rajila #slight angst #imposterzoe

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7-wonders · 5 years

Note

I got all four of my wisdom teeth removed today and I was wondering if you could do a little something for Michael taking care of the reader after surgery? I love everything you write!

(I hope you’re feeling better, I’ve still been too much of a wimp to get mine out!)

Michael was aware of the surgery that is basically a rite of passage for most humans as they enter young adulthood. During the short time he was at Hawthorne, he had heard so-called horror stories that his classmates would tell ailing boys whose last molars were coming in. The gore that came along with waking up with a bloody mouth full of gauze, the feeling of coming off of the anesthesia, only being able to eat Jell-o for a week: their stories were endless, and vivid enough to have many of the students with weaker stomachs blanching and running for the bathroom.

Michael really couldn’t care less about the war stories swapped between those who had gotten their wisdom teeth removed. His father had, of course, crafted him to be fully ready for the apocalypse when he reached the age of maturity. This meant that minor distractions that a normal human would face, such as routine surgery and accidental injuries, did not exist when it came to Michael. Listening to the dreaded ‘wisdom teeth’ fables didn’t bother him, because it was something that would never affect him.

At least, he thought it was something that would never affect him. That was before he fell madly in love with you, someone who is all-too human. While that’s one of the (many, many) reasons why he loves you, your humanity, it’s also made him a part of many life events he thought that he would never experience. This included the removal of your wisdom teeth, a date that you firmly considered would also become the last day of your life. Michael knew that you would be fine, and you did as well, but it was still a terrifying date to look forward to.

Michael is not someone who feels lost in a situation. He’s always calm and collected, knowing exactly what to do and when to do it. Even if he’s not sure in the moment, a smile and a couple of sweet words has everyone bending to his every whim. This, however, is something that his father could have never prepared him for. Homicidal witches are a piece of cake compared to--

“Stop trying to remove the gauze from your mouth!” Michael reminds you for the fourth time in as many minutes, grabbing your wrist with one hand to prevent you from going against the dentist’s orders while his other hand remains firmly on the wheel.

When Michael had insisted that he was more than capable of taking you home after your surgery, he hadn’t expected you to still be under the effects of the anesthesia used to knock you out before your teeth were removed. If he had known that little fact, he might have enlisted the help of someone else (the robotic Ms. Mead? One of your friends? A nanny?) to assist him in this task.

“You’re not my dad!” you yell, huffing and leaning back against the seat before mumbling something along the lines of “ugly-ass noodle head.”

“What?” You collapse into giggles, holding your stomach as your shoulders shake with laughter.

“‘s from a Vine,” you gasp out, Michael looking entirely unamused next to you.

“Of course it is.”

“Wait!” you nearly shout. “This means I get lots of ice cream, right? Can we get milkshakes? I want strawberry!”

“No milkshakes, remember? You can’t use straws for a week.”

You stare at him indignantly. “Then how the hell else am I supposed to have ice cream?”

“...with a spoon?” Michael says slowly, half-worried that it’s a trick question. Nodding apprehensively, your attention changes gears from ice cream to poking at your numb bottom lip.

It’s a near-miracle that Michael’s able to get you home and settled into the large bed that you share with him, on account of your desperate attempts to ‘prank’ him and grab the wheel. He sends one of the lackeys out for your prescribed medication and plenty of ice cream. (”W-what kind, s-sir?” the nervous young man had stuttered, Michael rolling his eyes.

“Well, I suppose you had better come back with a variety. I would hate for you to suffer the consequences if my queen is not satisfied.”

“Y-yes sir!” he squeaks out, nearly running around the corner to escape Michael.)

Blissfully, you fall asleep almost immediately after Michael puts you in bed. He could, with his powers, leave your side and be perfectly assured that you’re safe, but he would rather sit next to you and keep a firm hand on your back. When you do wake up, he’s at your side immediately with a large glass of water and the pills you’re supposed to take. You gratefully take it, nearly chugging the entire glass in one gulp before you remember to take the medicine he’s given you.

“Did you sleep well?” Michael asks softly, running a finger gently across your cheek and smiling fondly at how swollen they are, making you resemble a chipmunk (an observation that he’ll never tell you about).

“Mhm,” you blink up at him owlishly, already feeling the call of sleep once again. “Sorry for acting like a crackhead on the way home.”

Michael hides a snort with a cough, looking away so you don’t see him laughing. “Shh, you don’t need to apologize. You were...definitely still feeling whatever drugs they had you on.”

“Listen, I know you’re an Antichrist and all, but if you ever need surgery, take the anesthesia they give you,” you say nostalgically, as if recalling an event from years ago.

“Don’t worry about me, (Y/N). Focus on resting, okay?” You nod, leaning against his shoulder and burrowing under the blankets.

“Michael?” you call quietly.

“Yes?”

“When I wake up, can I have ice cream?”

“Whatever kind you desire.”

“...You threatened one of your followers, didn’t you?”

“No, I simply suggested that he be extremely careful in following my instructions.” You don’t answer, instead giggling and letting yourself relax as you know that Michael’s got you.

#behold! a sudden blurb!#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x you #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs imagines #ahs apocalypse #american horror story #american horror story imagine #american horror story apocalypse

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quackmyback · 4 years

Text

Heads or Tails : chapter one

Will Byers x Fem!OC

Hi friends, I don't think anyone actually read chapter zero, besides myself ofc, so I decided to post Chapter One today like I said I would :)

MADMAX AND THAT ASS

Mason pulled herself from a restless sleep, blinking away the gunk layered across her pupils and trying to swat away the sun streaming through the window. Slowly, she sat up and messed with the knots in her hair and she watched Max peacefully snore with her blanket half on her and half on the floor.

"Max," Mason called to her sister in hopes of waking her from her dreams. "Max. Dude!" Mason threw a stuffed animal -- a small, kind of deflated elephant her dad had got her years ago -- and nailed Max right in the nose.

"What the hell, Mase?"

"Get up, we have a one-way ticket to hell in about fifteen minutes." Mason threw her blankets off her legs and headed over to her and Max's shared wardrobe -- picking out a simple outfit that she hoped wouldnt get her taunted on her first day at school.

The twins juxtaposed each other: while Max wore her hair down, Mason tied it up with braids and and excessive use of hair clips, while Max liked baggy jeans and larger hoodies -- Mason preferred oddly patterned skirts with white shirts and denim jackets. Both girls only owned one pair of shoes: Max's were a red pair of converse they had found super cheap at a thrift store while Mason's were a weird off brand of keds that were fully white.

Mason walked out of the room, back to the bathroom, and shouted back to her sister, "and you better hurry your ass up, because I am not biking to school!"

"Whatever, dork!" Max slammed the door to their shared bedroom.

• ○ •

hen Billy parked the car, Max and Mason exited. Mason gazed around to see everyone staring at her new step-brothers ass and, while delighted it wasn't at her, her lip curled in disgust. She sped walked to catch up to her sister, who was slowly skating towards the Middle School across the parking lot.

"This is gonna be a total nightmare," Max scoffed glaring at everyone around them who dared to take a glance towards the Mayfield twins.

"Maybe" -- Mason shrugged -- "maybe not."

The girls continued their slow, torturous walk to school -- stopping at the front desk so that Mason could ask for their schedules. Assuming that their classes would be the same, Mason felt misery when she realized she would have to part from Max for art.

Max sighed, "Well, at least you dont have Drama with Mrs. Cockwit."

The girls looked at each other before their faces broke into smiles, Mason examined their schedules side by side once again. "Science," she said. "We should probably hurry and go find-"

"-That wont be a problem, Miss Mayfield." The twins turned suddenly to find a burly man behind them, the principal they assumed. Now, they're own personal tour guide. "I will be leading you to your first class, please the bell will ring shortly, so follow me."

They did, reluctantly, follow him to a wooden door where they could faintly hear the teacher teaching his wisdom to a class full of kid more likely than not to drop out of three years. They walked in, quickly as to avoid as much attention as possible. Though when Mason had looked up when passing the teachers desk, she realized that wasn't going to be easy.

"Ah, these must be our new students!" Mason's attention snapped to the teacher, she had realized on her schedule his name was Mr.Clarke.

"Indeed it is," the principal who had herded the two into the classroom confirmed,"All yours."

Mason rushed to follow Max to the back, yet they were stopped about as fast as Max could rolled her eyes.

"All right, hold up." Mr. Clark held put his hand to stop the two and smiled. "You dont get away that easy."

Mason barely muttered under her breath, not even enough for it to really reach her own ears. "One could hope."

Mr. Clark continued his introduction, as if the two girls weren't capable of saying their own names. Mason was more than capable of having a panic attack discretely, surely she could say her name to a classroom full of people. Wait a minute.

"Come on up, dont be shy. Dustin, drum roll." A kid in the front, who wore a hat and a dinosaur hoodie, closed his notebook and drummed his fingers against it. "Class," Mr. Clark began," please welcome, all the way from sunny California, the latest passengers to join us on our curiosity voyage, Mason and Maxine."

Mason swallowed and shuffled awkwardly, "Uh, I'm actually Mason and that's-"

"Max. Not Maxine," Max interrupted her sister, eager to sit down and hide away from the vulturous stares of the class.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry. Um, all aboard, Max and Mason."

The twins hurried past him, finding empty seats in the near back of the class -- Mason scoring one near the window. She pulled her notebook from her backpack and pulled one of her many colorful pens from the side pockets -- the only happiness she ever was given was from those pens.

She sat there for a moment, staring at the blank page in front of her and barely hearing Mr. Clarke lecturing the class. Not surprisingly, she also barely notices Max's elbow slowly shoving Mason's notebook off the desk.

"Dude" -- Mason barely caught the book before it fell and furrowed her brows -- "what the hell?" She dropped her voice to a whisper in Hope's of not getting in trouble on her first day at school for Max's mischief.

"Those guys upfront keep staring at us," Max whispered through her hair. Mason's eyes flickered up and, lo and behold, the four boys were, indeed, staring at them. Well...

"They arent staring at us," Mason corrected, "they're staring at you. "

"Why?"

"How the hell should I know?" Max turned to face forward, playing with her hands after her sister said that. Mason sighed," Don't worry, I have an idea."

Max nodded, trusting her sister,"Okay."

With that, Mason grabbed the top of her blue pen with her teeth and popped it off. She wrote the first thing that came to mind in big letters.

• ○ •

Mason walked into the art room, it was lined with floor to ceiling windows and every wall was a different color. The room was fairly empty, Mason assumed it was because art was pushed onto students as much as sports or academics.

She sighed and took a seat by the window. Some one pulled the stool beside her out and sat down. Mason looked over to find one of the boys who were staring at her sister. He smiled, a small smile that didn't really reach his eyes. He looked like he had a lot on his mind, way too much to deal with for a small boy his age.

"Hi, uh, I'm Will."

Mason returned his smile, her hands were shaking; she buried them in the pockets of her jacket.

"I don't think I need to introduce myself." Mason looked down at the table, he had his sketchbook out and she didn't -- she anxious that she was supposed to already have it out. Did anyone else have it out? Her eyes danced around the room, avoiding Will's beautiful brown ones the whole time.

He noticed her behaviour, and it barely seemed unusual until he realized her leg was bouncing quickly and her bottom lip was pulled tight between her teeth. When she released it from its death grip, he could see the scabs forming across the sensitive skin.

"You'd be right," he laughed, hoping to calm her down,"Mason, yeah? That's a pretty cool name."

"It's a boy's name." Mason ducked down below the table to retrieve her sketchbook from her back pack.

"It can't be a boy's name." Mason looked at him for the first time since he sat down next to her. He smiled goofily, she saw that it reached his eyes this time. Her heart leaped. "How can it be a boy's name if it's your name?"

Mason's lips parted and her leg stopped bouncing for a second, but her hands had exited her pockets and were bending the bottom corner of her sketchbook. "Well, I think my parents wanted a boy."

"Well, I think my mom wanted a dog." He spun a lock of his hair around his finger, "She got the shedding and, I offered to play fetch with her, but she thought that was weird."

Will felt pride swell in his chest, a smile broke out across his face after a sweet snippet of laughter fell from her lips.

Mason let her laughter die into a small smile and she glanced at him, "Hey, I'll, uh, I'll show you mine if you show me yours?"

Will glanced down at his sketch book anxiously, "O-Okay."

They grinned, exchanging books and looking through the other's masterpieces. Each other, carefully calculating their looks at each other to see the other's reaction towards their pride and joy.

• ○ •

"He seemed nice," Mason defended her new friend, despite Max's efforts to deter her away from him.

"No way, he's one of the creeps who stared at us." Max slammed her hand down onto the button and violently yanked the joystick.

"They were staring at you, and maybe they arent creeps maybe they just are curious about the new kids and are too scared to approach."

Max quickly diverted her attention from Dig Dug to Mason and back to Dig Dug before she died. "If that were true, they would've been looking at you too." Mason sighed loudly, laying her head against the side of the machine. "Now, dude, you're really killing my Dig Dug vibe."

"Whatever," Mason shover herself off the machine and turned to her sister, "I'm gonna get a soda, you want anything?"

"Grape and a snickers."

"Got it."

Mason walked away, her hands in her pockets jingling she change, she rubbed her fingers over the rough circles repeatedly to assure herself she had enough to pay for everything.

"What can I get for you," The guy behind the register asked. Mason's eyes dashed across the menu even though she already knew what she wanted.

"Uh, yeah, can I get a strawberry and a grapefruit fanta plus two snickers." She looked down at her pocket to pull out the change. "Oh, uh, please.m," Mason quickly added.

"No problem."

While she waited, Mason leaned against the counter and faced towards where Max was standing at the Dig Dug machine working her magic. Then, her eyes fell on the two boys from their science class."

"Oh, you've got to be shitting me."

As if they sensed her looking at them, the glanced behind them and their eyes widened -- busted.

"Position has been comprised! Fall out!" The curly haired boy shouted, Mason watched as they ran out the door. She sighed, shaking her head and turned towards the counter where the guy had set down her order.

"Thank you." She handed him the money and retreated back to Max. She sighed as she handed max her snickers and held onto the soda for when she finished the game she was playing.

"What's got your panties in a knot?" Max barely glanced at her, taking a giant bite of her snickers.

"Fuckin' creeps." Mason cracked the top of her strawberry soda and took a gulp.

#will byers x reader #will byers #stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things 2 #chapter one #will byers x oc #fanfiction #writing #mike wheeler #billy hargrove #eleven #madmax #max mayfield #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #steve harrington #I love Mason #st2

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btsunniemoonie · 5 years

Text

Headcanon: Namjoon as your boyfriend

After the Jungkook scenario, I was asked by a cute anon to do the same for Namjoon and here I am, back with another headcanon!

Namjoon as your boyfriend.

Is there anything purer than that?

Hardly...

No warnings except excessive fluff.

All credits to gif owners.

Boyfriend Namjoon

OKAY BUT

RKive

Bye

He probably got you the cuddliest and softest blanket there is for the times when you’re over in his studio which is (always) often

When you fall asleep on his couch during late nights and he turns around, you can actually hear his heart shatter to a million pieces

literally

Will stand up and walk up to you to cover you properly

While leaning forward and pressing his lips against your forehead

Gently pushes one stray strand of hair out of your face, stroking it and tracing your features with his fingertips

He is always in a trace when he looks at you because to him you are the most beautiful creature in the world

this boy is so weak for you it’s not even funny anymore

The smile on his face

In all its dimpled glory

but

Love equals clumsiness

So watch out

especially during the beginning when he’s trying to act smooth, he tends to ... yeah, fail

“Hey babe, I got a new jacket, what do you-“

While trying to show off, he accidentally knocked a mug off the kitchen counter, making its half-full contents spill all over the floor and cupboards, the mug itself shattering on the ground with the shards everywhere

He will blush so much and revert to a shy little boy, instantly leaning down to pick up the broken pieces

and of course, cutting himself because around you he can’t seem to make the shaking of his hands stop

He will flinch, biting his lip to not make a sound but you being the ever attentive girlfriend will notice immediately and, with a slight sigh but a very gentle smile on your lips, will get him out of the mess and instead pull him into the bathroom

You will make him sit down on the closed lid of the toilet because the rim of the bathtub is not safe for him and get out the first aid kit (which is not the first time; you have it conveniently stored by now)

Although he’s shying away, he will eventually open his hand with a little bit of coaxing from your side

(because did he really embarrass himself in front of the love of his life AGAIN?!)

When he opens his hand, you will see what happened, how the blood is pooling in his hand

You really learned how to treat little wounds well (kudos to him)

He thinks while watching you with big eyes

You’re so preoccupied, you probably won’t notice how he gives you T H E LOOK TM

A smile so tender and soft will light up his features

His heart will beat away in his chest

His bottom lip sucked between his teeth

as he holds his breath

not believing how he was able to land someone like you, a perfect, beautiful girl

“There you go, all done.”

He will be so shy when your eyes lock when you look up

Probably blushing

But he won’t look away

instead, he will take your face between his hands very carefully

he always treats you delicately, scared that he will break you otherwise

and kisses your lips

Have you seen his lips?!?

His kisses

OMG PLEASE

H E A V E N

soft pecks

slow kisses

loving and passionate making-out sessions

Whatever it is, those lips surely will be your downfall

Throw in his sweet words in between

with that voice of his

D O O M

He is probably T H E boyfriend

All those partner outfits

and all those aesthetically pleasing selcas

“Let's take a picture here?”

“Anything you want sweet cheeks!”

He will probably call you sweet cheeks, baby girl and baby

T A L K S

It’s such a sophisticated relationship istg

He is in constant search of wisdom and how to further evolve and develop himself, so the need to articulate himself is very high

He needs to share his insights and ideas with someone

and who would be better than you?

He will come up to you, curl his arms around your waist from behind while leaning his chin on the top of your head, telling you about the book he read

Will feel the need to talk to you about topics that most wouldn’t dare address or simply don’t care about

“Don’t you think it’s fascinating how a piece of convexed glass can improve sight? How does someone even think of that?”

He will ask the most random things at the weirdest times

His thirst for knowledge is so big

Yet sometimes he just needs silence

During those times he really appreciates when you place his head on your lap and just caress his hair or spoon him

Your relationship is equal and even though he is the man most of the times, he will have his weak moments, not feeling ashamed to display them in front of you

He trusts you fully

He invests in this relationship fully too

So he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable with letting you in and showing you his feelings (including the ones that aren’t positive)

When he comes home after a long day the only thing that can light him up is you

Wants to snuggle with you

Will wordlessly pull you to your bedroom or coach, whichever is closer, and simply drape himself all over you

His face deeply buried in the crook of your neck

The only thing he needs now is your comforting smell and the faint beat of your heart

He will immediately calm down because now he’s finally home

Will probably fall asleep in that position, thankful that you don’t ask but simply understand

Meeting your parents

God

He will be SO nervous, his hands shaking

because he has to make a good first impression

You’re the only one he wants to marry, after all, so he shouldn’t fuck things up with his future in-laws

At least not right off the bat at the first meeting

You’re probably invited to dinner on a nice afternoon

And he comes out of the bathroom three hours before

In a tuxedo, his hair slicked back, looking better than ever but also way too overdressed

And you’re just O///O

“Do you think this is okay?”

You’re at a complete loss, standing up and coming up to him

“Joonie, don’t you think this is a little too much?”

Because damn, it is and this boy went all the way out

Panic dances in his eyes at your words

You’d have to pull him in a loving embrace because

“I want them to like me.”

“I don’t wanna mess this up.”

And you’d have to calm him down because this poor boy would be so scared and worried

“They will love you. I told them about you and remember when we skyped with them?”

Your voice and words would calm him down gradually and he’d hug you back, kissing the side of your neck

He’d probably wear normal pants with a button down and glasses, something he’s more comfortable with but something that’s still chic

In front of your parent’s door, he would take your hand and squeeze it tenderly while closing his eyes and breathing through before pressing the bell

He’d instantly switch into leader-mode

He is used to facing situations he was never in and can handle them coolly without showing off how much he worries inside

He would greet your mother so politely and gift her a bouquet of flowers or something else with his dimpled smile

“I see where (y/n) got her beauty from.”

He’d be so charming

your mother would fall for him right away, giggling and ushering the two of you inside

He is an absolute professional

Ever the gentleman

He’d always allow you first, gesturing you inside

Have you seen this boy and his habits?

He will call your dad sir and nothing else istg

He’d be so respectful and bow in front of him as soon as he catches a glimpse of him

He’d sit right next to you but would be so decent all the time, holding light conversation with your dad

Until your mum calls you into the kitchen to help her out

He’d panic internally when you’d round the corner

because you’re gone

and he’s alone with your father

But

to his surprise

no, your dad doesn’t want to fillet him

Instead, he simply smiles and continues to tell the story

Namjoon will listen attentively and nod, throwing in some comments here and there

The two of them will lose track of time because

Namjoon is so fascinated by the stories of the past your father tells and the experiences he made

while your dad finds the point of view of Namjoon refreshing and interesting

The two of them get along just swimmingly, looking up surprised when you’d call them to eat

He’d pull out the stool for you, letting you sit first before taking the spot right beside you

His manners are impeccable

Dinner would go so smoothly, conversation flowing easily and everybody would enjoy themselves

Your parents are absolutely smitten with his good manners and competence

while Namjoon would slowly grow more and more comfortable because of the hospitality and warmth your parents greeted him with

The evening would end on a bliss point, your parents waving while the two of you would get the car ready

He’d smile so brightly

His hand tightly interlaced with yours while he drives, looking forward

His eyes would always stray to you though

He can never keep his eyes away from you for too long when you’re around

“It went well huh?”

He’d chuckle so happily

nodding

and squeezing your hand

“I’m so glad. Now it won’t be a problem to ask for your hand.”

Cue the coughing fit from your side because

aslkfhfaka?!??

He wouldn’t even notice his slip of words until he’d spot the blush you’re sporting

but he’d be the ever so smooth RM and move your interlaced hands up to his lips

kissing the back of your hand gently

“You didn’t think I’d ever let you go, right?”

The smirk on his face would be so smug

the love in his eyes evident, however

He is WEAK for your aegyo

You know that thing he does when he’s shy or overly happy?

Where he squeezes his eyes shut and just SMILES

YEAH EXACTLY THAT

He does that a lot around you

And he can’t say no to you when you do your aegyo on him

it works

every

single

time

“Please, let's watch Mulan.”

“But we just watched it last week.”

“Puwease.”

He’d hide behind his hands all shy and so bashful and it’d end up with the two of you cuddled up on the couch, watching Mulan yet again

He wouldn’t even complain because how could he?

You’re happy, your eyes are sparkling like the most beautiful diamonds with a smile on your pretty lips while you’re all cuddled up to him like a koala

Snacks and beverages scattered around you

The lights dimmed

The movie playing

This must be heaven, he thinks

He doesn’t need much

Just the right company in a nice environment can work a long way

And you are the best company there is

His inner batteries would recharge fully

The fluttering and shimmying feeling taking a hold of his insides

His inspiration circulating through him

The motivation burning under his fingers

You’d be the reason why he wants to be a better person every day

He wants to grow and learn

Make a step forward every single day, no matter how small

and he’d take you with him

He’d support you like nobody else

Sitting down with you and talking about the things you want to achieve

And helping you make them become true

Sure, hardships are inevitable, fights sometimes can’t be avoided

but it’s about handling them and dealing with them

and he’d always talk things out with you

Trying to solve the underlying problems

You’d be a team like nobody else

All the members would be jealous of you (in a good sense though)

They’d be so glad their precious leader found someone who’s so compatible with him and goes to such great lengths to make him a better person

“Behind every great man, there stands a woman”

You’d be that literal woman, helping him through everything

From minor things like bringing him food up the way to listening to the deepest sorrows and worries

Knowing he can rely on you in every matter would make him so much greater and powerful

He’d be so much more focused on letting other’s feel what you make him feel

and so, you’d become his muse

You’d be the love standing behind every single song of his

You’d be the inspiration behind every lyric

You’re the reason he’s thriving even harder

Just imagining your heartfelt smile would let the creativity run wild in him

His thoughts somersaulting as his fingers are way too slow to keep up with the speed the words are coming up with

He’d be in the best mood when things at work would work out

and to think that he’s so blessed to come home to you

He is the type of person to bring you little presents after coming home from work

be it food so that you don’t have to cook (even though he loves your home cooked food more than anything)

or a little keychain that he thought was cute

Or even a blossom that fell off just as he crossed underneath the cherry tree that was in full bloom

“The beauty reminded me of you; the only difference is, you’re not transient because I will never let you go.”

He’s so cheesy and he is not even sorry for it

He will make you feel all the love he holds for you and he is not ashamed of it

He is a very gentle and loving person

and he will worship you

All of you, at all times

His touches will be so tender

And he will murmur and whisper so many praises against your skin

He will kiss you, leaving warm flames in their wake as he maps your body out in a pace that can only be called slow

His warm hands will make you feel so safe

He will love you so thoroughly and will put you over himself always because that’s simply how he is

For him pleasure is all about intimacy, holding your hands, looking into your eyes, whispering warm words, kisses

just getting lost in each other and becoming one

Ecstasy in the softest way

The love will be so pure and unfiltered

So real

He will always prioritize you

All in all, Kim Namjoon is simply the most perfect smol bean the face of earth has ever seen

Admin Moonie 🌙

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gukknj · 5 years

Text

rebirth (m)︱one

summary: as you enter a completely new world, you realize that do-overs aren’t always a good thing.

pairing(s): jeon jungkook x feminine reader, park jimin x feminine reader

genre: vampire au

warnings: mentions of death, blood

Eden was built upon the idea of insatiable bloodlust and overall vampiric superiority. It was a place that one could not find so easily unless they were of a supernatural bloodline, completely hidden in the darkest depths of forest and underground beneath the fae tribes. Eden became a place where vampires could come to sate their hunger, discover their hard limits when it came to feeding, truly come into their own as a monster.

There were also strict rules, of course, rules that prevented the general public of creatures from becoming truly unhinged murderers. Jin made sure that no one could enter his sanctuary without a background check first, as well as other stipulations that caused hundreds of bloodsuckers to give him unbelievable amounts of money. If there was one thing Jin was before a vampire, it was a businessman.

Jin also hated a lot of things; humans, law and order, women who thought they could seduce him, idiots that turned their children into vampires, and above all else, Park Jimin.

So, it wasn't a surprise to anyone when the first thing he did upon visiting Jimin's little secluded cabin was pulled his signature combat knife from his pocket and glared at the annoyed, younger man. Well, it was a surprise for you. Jimin had only mentioned this 'all-knowing' Jin as his old friend, but you saw past that lie the moment the tall, powerful man stepped through the door with Chae in tow.

His expression was both deadly and handsome in equal parts. He had the kind of face that was hard to forget, especially given that a pair of terrifying fangs was placed between his plump pink lips. Behind him, Chae was rolling her eyes at the animosity radiating from both men as they circled each other like wolves. Jimin's face gave nothing away in terms of fright, but you did notice how he quickly gulped once he spotted the shiny weapon Jin wielded. Chae cleared her throat.

"If you two little girls are done pulling pigtails, I'd like to get back to the real issue." She said before turning around to you, lying on the living room couch with a puke bucket beside you filled with blood. Jin and Jimin couldn't hear her, they stared each other down until they were sure neither would make a sneak attack once the other moved.

"Don't mistake me not punching this knife through your heart for a truce..an understanding. Mercy. Chae's like family to me." Jin spoke with such hatred that it scared you. He then turned to you, cruel brown eyes examining you like a science experiment. He made you feel ashamed to be in the position you were in like you weren't even worthy of being in his presence when you looked so unkempt. You hadn't looked in a mirror in such a long time, but if you had to guess, you probably resembled the walking dead. Not a comforting fact when you realized everyone in the afterlife is objectively hot.

Jin stalked towards you, crouching once he'd reached your position on the couch. He was so near to you, you nearly forgot how to breathe. Everything about him radiated power and wisdom beyond years. His hand raised to you and you flinched back. He chuckled at your weariness and used his hand to feel the temperature on your forehead.

"You're a jumpy one," He whispered. "I won't hurt you. You must be scared." His voice turned so incredibly soft as he felt all over you, checking your heartbeat and pulse rates. "Is there anything you have a craving for at the moment?" He asked. You shook your head. The idea of blood seemed disgusting to you, especially since you were chucking it up by the boatload. "Are you experiencing sharp pains in your stomach? Speak up."

"Yes. It hasn't gone away." You were aware that your voice was cracked and weak, but there was nothing you could do to stop it. In Chae's long absence, Jimin had given you water, soup, bread and anything that he thought might help get you back in working condition. Nothing stuck. He nodded.

"Any other abnormal instances you'd like to tell me about?"

You think. "It hurts to open my eyes for too long. Sounds are too loud. Lights too bright. My teeth ache.”

He nodded, "Okay, all normal for a transition."

"And I don't remember anything."

He paused. "What do you mean by that? You don't remember being turned?" He asked. Jimin and Chae both lean forward for your explanation and you could feel yourself tearing up as you have to say it for the first time.

"I don't remember myself...who I was...what I did. I know I had a family and friends, but I don't remember them. I don't know who I am." You sniffled and blinked back the tears threatening to fall. Jin barely reacted to your hysterics. He forced your body up as you whimpered, hands traveling up to your head. He prod in a few spots, taking note of your physical reaction to him.

"She's possibly concussed from her death. The healing process hasn't fully started yet because she hasn't been properly fed. Chae, you said you gave her what type of blood?"

She frowned. "I gave her every type. She barfed it all back up afterward. And she still fucking is. Jin, I don't fucking get it. What's going on?"

"I don't think she needs human blood. That shit only made her sick, it's killing her from the inside out. There are very few cases where this happens, you see. One hundred percent of the time it's an instance where another supernatural species has been turned into a vampire hybrid," Jin scoffed out before turning back to you. He wore a glare now. "And you're trying to tell me that you don't know who the fuck you are."

"Hey!" Jimin shouted, rushing to stand beside you. "Look at her, man! Does it look like she's fucking lying? She has absolutely nothing to gain." He tried to reassure the angry man, but Jin shook his head.

"She has everything to gain. A little half-breed trying to infiltrate my territory and report back to wherever the fuck she came from. You said you found her where? Bleeding out in the middle of our woods?" Jin asked Chae, who looked just as angry as Jimin.

"Shut the fuck up, Jin. If I hadn't found her, she would've died. It would be a pretty shitty plan if it were a real plan and not a delusional fairytale that comes from years of being an asshole to everyone you meet." She seethed.

"Being around Jimin for so long has made you soft, Chae."

Jimin sneered. "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

You sat back and tried to make yourself smaller. Death was beginning to sound like a better fate than to be tied up in the mess unfolding before you. And they just kept going, arguing back and forth, voices rising higher and higher until it felt like all Hell would break loose. Your ears couldn't take the ringing. It protruded your sensitive eardrums like nails against a chalkboard. You finally screamed.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

You clutched your head in pain from even your own voice. The three vampires paused their bickering and turned to you with wide eyes. You grabbed Jin, uncaring of his thoughts of you, and used him to lift yourself into a standing position. He raised an eyebrow at that but let you continue to struggle on your two feet, holding the lapels of his pea coat and glaring up at him.

"I don't give a fuck what you think I'm trying to do. Fix me or fucking kill me." You choked out. Jin smirked. The siblings watched the scene with bated breath, praying that you didn't just sign your death certificate. Jin always was a wild card.

"Fine," Jin said. "Assuming that you are a poor, defenseless little brat, I will help you move forward in your transition process." He said and Chae let out a sigh of relief. Jimin still stared, worried. "However, if you so dare as to cross me, you're going to wish you died." He threatened, which you didn't take lightly. You nodded in understanding. "I can't help you in this dump where there are only cartoon character Band-Aids and trash cans as puke buckets. You need to come with me. To Eden."

His eyes bore into yours so intensely that you had to turn. You glanced at Chae, your savior, for her okay on the admission. She bit her bottom lip, refusing to look directly at you.

"You can't take a baby vamp to that fucking cesspool." Jimin glared.

"She's a big girl, I'm sure she can make her own decisions." Jin continued to stare down at you. "Jimin's only upset because Eden is only for the most elite of vampires and he isn't on the guest list. We have the best of resources for a fresh one such as yourself. I'll take care of you. And maybe, when you're feeling better, you can come back here to visit." He persuaded. It didn't sound like a bad idea.

"Say something to her, Chae."

"I don't think you have a choice. Jin isn't all bad. He's right, actually. We can't help you like this." She pouted. "You'll be in better hands with him. And I'll visit you every day to make sure you're alright."

Jimin rolled his eyes. "Not what I meant."

Thankfully, you still had common sense and deductive reasoning skills. Even you could tell that Jin wasn't a person you'd want to ever cross, but he seemed to have a solution to your problem and you didn't want to spend the rest of your life on a metaphorical death bed. Or an actual one. Could vampires die of starvation?

The dark glint in his eyes told you all that you needed to know; you definitely wouldn't be coming back to visit Jimin. The blonde boy's eyes were telling you not to leave with Jin, but you also had to take into account that they both didn't like each other. The most important opinion, you thought, belonged to the sweet girl that saved you. You couldn't ignore the pull you've had to her ever since you took your first breath of life, the way that you wanted to run to her the most for comfort, how you instinctively trusted every word she spoke with your entire being. So no matter how big and pleading the boy's eyes were, you couldn't agree with him.

"I'll go with you." You whispered to Jin. Jimin visibly deflated.

"Smart girl." Jin praised with a small smile. His eyes cut to Jimin. "We'll be on our way now. Let's hope we never have to see each other again." He said.

"If you truly felt that way, you never would have turned me in the first place, Jin. But, by all means, get the fuck out of my house. And keep her away from your little lackeys." Jimin spat at the older man. You glanced between both of them in alarm, soaking in all the new information before Jin grabbed your arm and started pulling you to the door. Chae gave you a meaningful look as you passed her and it gave you enough strength to mindlessly follow along with the older vampire.

You were finally alone with him, in the dead of night, but it didn't feel as terrifying as you thought it would. Maybe because once you two got a far enough distance from the cottage, he dropped the 'bad guy' front and offered to carry you the rest of the way. Jin was intimidating as all hell, but you couldn't limp through the forest for who knows how much longer so you fell into his arms graciously.

"Is is...far?" You asked after about five minutes of walking through the forest.

The man grunted. "You know, you talk an awful lot for a sick person with amnesia."

"I said one thing."

There wasn't much talking after that besides your occasional coughing fits and general pit stops to upchuck whatever blood was left in your system. Jin sneered, whispering 'how much fucking blood did that girl give you' before speeding up his pace. There wasn't much to focus on in the meantime, except for the tall trees looming over you, seemingly touching the clouds. The noises of owls hooting and bats flapping rapidly overhead.

Jin also turned into a focus point. You admired his classically handsome features and how powerful he could look without doing much of anything. You wondered about his unclear history with Jimin and Chae and why he was so adamant on intimidating Jimin.

Jimin had mentioned that Jin used to be his friend, so maybe they had a huge falling out some time ago that didn't involve Chae. Maybe, once upon a time, they were all like a happy family. You wished you could remember your family. It was all blurry, vague hints of memories with no real faces or names, just locations and scenery, and heavy nostalgia.

"I can feel you thinking." He said after a few minutes of you stewing in a stale silence. "It'll be best for us both if you held out on trying to figure things out until we've figured out a sustainable way of living for you." He advised with a scold.

"I can't help it. It feels like missing puzzle pieces. And it's odd because I still know how the world functions; I know that vampires are supposed to be something like myths, I know the melodies to songs I can't name right now, I know that I was terrified of dying. But I don't know what I did...the decisions I made to lead me here." You confessed.

Jin nodded. "Ignorance is often bliss."

"But I don't have an identity."

"Isn't that a blessing?" Jin began with a smirk. "To not have any preconceived notions made by others about who you are? To have an open range of possibility regarding your morals, values, ethics...it's quite exhilarating. You can be whoever the fuck you want to be with no judgment."

"No judgment?" You asked, weakly. You doubt that anyone could just do whatever and get away with it.

He laughed. "This is the supernatural world. It takes a lot for people to collectively judge you, trust me. The way I see it, you've been given a gift."

Jimin had mentioned that before. A gift.

"Human life weighs down on us. We wander back to check in on family and friends...and we see them grieving and moving on, gradually forgetting about us. We see them getting into trouble that we know we could fix, but we can't interfere. Most of us don't get over it. New life is painful, but I think you'll adjust just fine." Jin said before halting to an abrupt stop.

You would've never expected to be standing in front of an old half burned down hospital building. There were at least three floors, or they're used to be given that most of the third floor looked chopped off. It was only scarcely boarded up and had tree vines crawling up over every visible wall. You skimmed over the old building with a disgusted look in your eyes.

"You've gotta be kidding me. Jin, if you're going to kill me, you could've just done it three miles ago. I'd rather not die inside of this dungeon of horrors." You whined pathetically which Jin had the gall to laugh at you for.

"My dear, this 'dungeon of horrors' is the gateway to Eden. Stop wiggling so much, you'll be fine." He assured.

The moment that he stepped inside, a crow yelped rather loudly in the sky, something so immediate and timed that you knew for a fact it was no coincidence. Jin carried you forward, towards a hidden area filled with moss and shrubbery. Before you could protest, Jin had already set you down on the cold concrete and pulled out his combat knife. You prepared to be skinned alive, but the knife dug into his own skin instead. The blade pierced the palm of his hand causing dark red blood to drip. He placed his hand in front of him onto a particular piece of concrete, letting his blood fall onto the pavement in a pattern you weren't familiar with.

"What are you doing?" You asked.

"Eden has many different entrance locations, all of which require a blood offering to unlock the doors." He explained just as the seemingly normal floor under you began to sink downwards. You panicked for a moment, grabbing onto Jin's leg as the ground carried you lower than you ever wanted to go. He lent back down to pick you up again, but this time you wrapped your arms around his neck, fearing what would happen if he ever set you down again.

Amongst the bare walls now surrounding you was a heavy-looking metal door. Jin took you towards it, hitting it in a rhythmic tap that was too intricate to be improvisation. The door flew open immediately, revealing a dark hallway.

Your heart raced unintentionally.

You didn't know that Jin could hear your heart beating rapidly as clear as he could hear you speaking to him, so you didn't see his mildly concerned look down at you as you clutched onto him like a safety net. He sighed.

"Do you still want to do this?" He asked. It was so unexpected of him that you eased up on your grip and stared, unsure of how to respond.

"If you mean survive, then yes. I trust you."

"You just met me, dear. It's incredibly stupid to trust strangers." He scolded you not unlike a father would and it made you smile for a split second.

"As if I really have other options, Dracula. Get a move on it before I really pussy out because I can't take looking at this creepy place a second longer." This time Jin laughed and simply adhered to your wishes, speeding through the door and into the hallway. Behind you, the door slammed shut on its own and you could hear the floors lifting once again.

You kept your eyes shut as you sped through the long hallway. Until the faint sound of music tingled your eardrums and Jin came to a sudden halt. "Welcome to Eden. Let's get you settled in somewhere."

Hesitantly, you opened your eyes to examine whatever hell hole you've been brought to, and you couldn't help the gasp that tore through you. Jin smirked at your reaction.

"I think you'll have a good time here, so long as you don't wander off by yourself or run accidentally into JK."

"Who?"

#bts fanfic #bts angst #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jimin x reader #park jimin fic #bts smut #bts fic

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foreverythingyouhatemefor · 4 years

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❝Not Meant For Me❞

❝I'm trapped in this world Lonely and fading Heartbroke and waiting For you to come We are stuck in this world That's not meant for me For me❞

{Not Meant For Me - Wayne Static}

The familiar "click" of her front door unlocking is like music to her ears. Chloe has finally returned home after another long and grueling day, and she is in desperate need of a shower before she even thinks about doing anything else for the rest of the night. She had just finished up an insanely busy five hour shift at the coffee shop, and she is a mix of sore, sweaty, and exhausted.

A small yawn escapes through her lips as she makes her way inside of her tiny apartment. She closes and locks the door behind her, before dropping her bag onto the floor next to her. She unceremoniously kicks her shoes off of her throbbing feet, not caring where abouts they land. All she cares about is getting out of her uncomfortable as fuck work uniform, washing her day away, and slipping into a much comfier outfit. She's already stripping out of said work uniform as she trudges towards the bathroom, internally thanking God that she doesn't have to work tomorrow. She desperately needs to clean and organize her apartment, as well as do her laundry. Between her job, and the seemingly endless amount of schoolwork, she hasn't had a lot of downtime to do either of those things.

Welcome to adulthood, Chloe. It's not what it's all cracked up to be. Kid you is a fucking moron for thinking that life gets easier as you grow older. At least back then, kid you didn't have all the responsibilities that adult you has to face, now. Especially in an entirely new city, in an entirely new state, where the only person you know just so happens to be your six minute younger than you, pain in the ass fraternal twin brother who decided to tag along for the ride.

Fun fuckin' fact, kiddos. It ain't just identical twins who are, stereotypically, attached at the hip!

Sunnydale, California. A seemingly sleepy town with a population of only 38,500 people. A vastly different number than the over 2,000,000 population of her hometown of Brooklyn, New York. Both herself and her younger brother, who is named Christopher if anyone cares, had moved there only a few months prior to attend school at U.C. Sunnydale. Chloe had been accepted into the Religion and Film program, whereas Christopher had been accepted into the Psychology program.

Their parents had chosen to stay behind in Brooklyn, mainly due to the fact that they own and operate a very popular Italian restaurant that they didn't want to give up. A decision that both kids understood, since they know how passionate their parents are when it comes to that place. The last thing they'd want is to hand it over to potentially incompetent people who will end up running the restaurant into the ground. Plus, they knew that their kids could take care of themselves. In more ways than just remembering to change their underwear every single day.

Chloe is fully nude by the time she finally makes her way into the tiny bathroom. Not that anyone would see it, anyways. She lives all by her little lonesome in that tiny as fuck, one bedroom apartment of hers. The very apartment that is only a four block walk from the university one way, and a five block walk from the coffee shop the other way. She finds this to be insanely convenient, since being within walking distance of both her school and her workplace means she gets way more exercise than she ever did when she was still living in Brooklyn. Plus. There is way less traffic here than there is there. That's another added bonus, right there.

She stops in front of the sink, figuring she should at least brush her teeth before she hops into the shower. She can't help but snort a laugh as her blue eyes settle upon her reflection staring back at her in the tiny mirror that hangs above it. Between the dark circles under her eyes and the look of pure exhaustion, she looks like a fucking zombie. Shit. If a zombie apocalypse were to break out, maybe the undead bastards would mistake her for one of their own and spare her precious brains. She begins to hum the song "The Attack of the Dead Men" by Sabaton under her breath, another laugh escaping her after she finishes humming the chorus. She gives a shake of her head, before reaching for her trusty toothbrush and toothpaste.

She continues to hum the song as she brushes her teeth, only pausing when she goes to rinse out her mouth. After that's done, she makes her way over towards where the tub is located. She pulls back the curtain, before leaning down to turn on the taps. Call her crazy, but, Chloe likes her showers to be as hot as Satan's ballsack. Especially after an insanely long day of classes and work. She finds that the hot water helps soothe her sore muscles, and it helps her to relax when she's feeling tense or stressed. As soon as the temperature is where she likes it to be, she steps inside and closes the curtain before activating the shower head.

She lets out a soft groan as the scalding water cascades down her body. She closes her eyes, raking her slender fingers through her long, blonde hair. She grimaces when she feels how truly knotted and nasty her hair feels, no doubt a combination from her not washing it in a few days, and the amount of sweat that had accumulated on her head from her commute from her apartment, to school, to work, and back again. It also didn't help that she ties her hair back into a ponytail whenever she's at work, one that she had already yanked out as soon as she had clocked out. Well. It's nothing a little bit of the Honey, I Washed My Hair shampoo bar from Lush won't fix.

She doesn't keep track of how long she stayed in the shower for. All she knew was that it was long enough to give herself a good, solid scrub and allow the hot water to somewhat soothe her sore and tense muscles. She eventually turns the water off, heaving out a soft sigh through her nostrils before she opens the curtain. The entire bathroom is filled with steam, and, her mirror is obviously all fogged up because of it. She chuckles softly to herself, before stepping out of the tub and reaching for a fresh towel so that she can towel dry her hair before she goes to blow dry it. She always feels a little bit more human after a nice shower, and, this moment is no exception.

After her hair is dried, Chloe slowly patters her way towards her bedroom. She makes her way over towards her wardrobe, grabbing her favourite pair of flannel pyjama bottoms out of its designated drawer. She slides them on, making sure they're sitting where she likes them to sit before she makes her way over towards the closet. She decides to grab the "Seven Pillars of Wisdom" shirt that she had just splurged on not long ago, and she promptly slips it on. Ahh. Much better than that fucking awful uniform she has to wear for work. After she's dressed, she decides to go into the kitchen to make herself a quick cup of coffee. She has a few assignments that she needs to work on for some of her classes, but, her brain needs its fast juice before she sits her ass down and gets to work.

As strange as it is to be living on her own, in a whole new city and state...Chloe knows for a fact that she'll be okay. Sunnydale may be vastly different than Brooklyn, but, she's a strong girl with a good head on her shoulders. This is a new life for her. A fresh start. A chance for her to live a normal life. The normal life she never thought in a million years she would ever be able to achieve...

Or...so she thinks, anyways...

#not my gif

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phantomphangphucker · 5 years

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Ectober Day 19: Loyalty - The F(r)ight For His Might

The FrightKnight’s been called plenty, most importantly loyal. But he’s betrayed his king, supposedly anyway.

The FrightKnight steps back and watches with squinted eyes after handing over the Ring Of Rage to the older halfa. Watching as he dons the ring and Crown Of Fire, waiting for the items' power to inevitably destroy the man. He was a fool for believing he was strong enough to handle such things.

Vlad grins maliciously as he places the crown over his head, puffing out his chest as he waits for the two items to recognise each other. Only to stiffen and jerk, as searing hot pain rips throughout his body. Collapsing onto his knees and one hand to his chest, over his core, as it’s battered by flames and burned by acid. Screaming into the ground as the FrightKnight stands in front of him and watches, unsurprised and uncaring.

Vlad grits out as his body shakes and starts to steam, “this, you didn’t warn...”.

FrightKnight crosses his arms, “do you truly believe I would defy my king for the likes of you? One so weak and can’t win through means of your own? No, you’ll just be added to his highnesses power”.

While Vlad fully collapses to the floor, cape beginning to burn away and limbs liquifying in places; snapping to reform only to start melting again. Vlad coughs and gags, splattering out the vibrant fuchsia ectoplasm of his core. Green ectoplasm dripping from his eyes and ears, before being joined by a river of red as Vlad forcibly transforms back. Creating a pollock painting of reds, fuchsias and greens; foaming, bubbling and burning. Legs and arms giving out to slam his face and chest into the mess, bubbles popping and splashing from the impact; spattering across his face, into his eyes, and on the FrightKnight’s boots.

The FrightKnight tears off what’s left of Vlad jacket as the man curls and writhes on the floor. Using the fabric to wipe off his boots and tossing the soiled fabric back onto the dissolving man. Chuckling as Vlad tries to tear off the Ring Of Rage, “your fates already sealed. To be claimed by the inferno of rage. Be glad your pathetic existence will go on to power a true king”.

Vlad coughs, trying to move his hands up to push away the crown, to get it off his head. But contacting the flaming metal just burns his fingers flesh and bone away to nothing. Arms dissolving into a grotesque puddle of red and green seconds later. So he pushes desperately across the floor, using what’s left of his thighs and little bit of knee to do so. Trying to use a table leg to push off the crown, only for it to become intangible against his will; while the FrightKnight shakes his head, “the least you could do is die and fade with some dignity”. Vlad shakes and vomits, watching through bleary eyes as the FrightKnight walks over to him, “but you never had any dignity did you? I’ve seen how you use that other halfa, all the attempted experiments. How you clamour for a boy beyond your reach. How you try to subjugate a woman beyond your reach. Making clones and holograms. Robots and programs. Surrounding yourself with things you never acquired truly. The pathetic delusions of a weak worm of a man”.

Vlad screams but tries to glare defiantly as he feels his intestines come lose and spill out of his abdomen, the skin and muscle having burned and bubbled away. Chunks of ribs and vertebra slipping out the tears and holes in his skin. Pieces of fabric still intact laying in the mess, forming clumps of viscera as the muscles in his throat tear apart. Being shredded by the sheer amount of oxygen being forced to pass through. Making blood choke and gag him, before holes burn into his throat, blood rushing out to be free of the degrading man’s too hot body. But it gives him no relief as his lungs expand and explode with superheated air, making his heart slide out across the floor. His core liquifying completely into a thick mess of fuchsia across bits of bone, organs and fabric that are currently passing for his chest.

Jerking and gagging as his teeth fall out, falling into the back of his throat, as his vision swims. The pain is everything now, to such a degree that he hardly feels it anymore. His mind swimming in a sea of agony and numb nothing. Feeling nothing but relief as the numb becomes everything and he feels his self falling into a pit of nothing at the bottom of a swimming pool. Only to jerk and sputter out what nearly qualifies as a groan, as a final wave of sharp burning pain shoots across his whole being. Until there’s nothing but the flames and final spiteful emotion. The world would never better Vlad, never beat him down. He would own it. Or so he thought.

The FrightKnight looks to one of the clocks, growing bored. Before grinning down at the messy puddles and streaks across the floor. Bending down to cup the Crown Of Fire. Walking over to the first puddle of viscera and pocketing the Ring Of Rage. Not so much as dignifying the mess with another glance as he heads to the master bedroom. Plucking the key to the Sarcophagus Of Forever Sleep from the former halfas nightstand, and leaving through the basement portal. “What a foolish thing”.

The FrightKnight stands before and bows at his kings' place of slumber before moving to unlock it. Only to still his hand at the sound of a power and authority filled voice.

“That’s far enough”.

The FrightKnight turns around to see the young halfa, the one who faced his king and won. Though he did it aided and not purely of his own power. Regardless, he had earned a level of respect. Any who could truly face the true High Ghost King in battle did. “Speak your piece as you wish. I will be releasing his highness regardless”.

Danny rolls his eyes and scoffs, “oh I’m well aware of that”, nodding his head off to the side, making the FrightKnight turn his head to see a strange purple cloaked ghost with a staff.

The stranger smiles ever so slightly, “fret not, I’m not here to interfere. Simply to float as a watchful eye”.

The FrightKnight looks back to the young halfa, understanding what he intends to do and that this strange ghost had somehow known that Pariah was to be released. Speaking at the halfa, “you wish to truly do battle against his majesty in earnest. Unaided and alone”.

“I have faced him once, though aided and young. I have earned such a right”, Danny stands tall and threatening, voice deep, “will you dare defy me that”.

The FrightKnight dips his head slightly, “I would not dream of it. For there is nothing I respect above Might Gives Right”, the FrightKnight nods his head at the stranger ghost, “nor will I interfere. You have your deponent, my king shall have his”.

The cloaked ghost grins and floats to be beside the halfa, speaking professionally, “then it is agreed”, producing a silver scroll and holding one end out to the FrightKnight. Who nods curtly and grabs onto the end.

The stranger, being the crowns challengers deponent, speaks first, “as the Ancient master of time and guardian of Phantom’s fate. I, ClockWork, hold and observe in royal clash. May fade unto dust thee who falls, and may illuminate in their deathly sway thee who enthrones. Immortal coil grant crown spear and maim yet chose wisely. Hail the High Ghost King, blazing death keep thee and life’s bite never mark thee. Revere the High Ghost Prince, frosted death keep thee and life’s bite keep thee marked”.

The FrightKnight swallows down his shock over who, exactly, this ghost is. But it garners the young halfa respect all the more. To have an ally of such power and sway; above that of even himself. The FrightKnight dips his head slightly in a show of respect to the Ancient before speaking, “as the keeper of Halloween’s Fright and Pariah’s High Dread Knight. I, FrightKnight, hold and observe in royal clash. May fade unto dust thee who falls, and may illuminate in their deathly sway thee who enthrones. Immortal coil grant crown spear and maim yet chose wisely. Revere the High Ghost Prince, frosted death keep thee and life’s bite keep thee marked. Hail the High Ghost King, blazing death keep thee and life’s bite never mark thee”. The paper bursting into flames as soon as he finishes speaking.

ClockWork floats to sit in a chair of gear cogs and ticking clocks that appears to the side. Watching as Phantom walks up to the Sarcophagus Of Forever Sleep with the FrightKnight.

The FrightKnight glances at the halfa and nods slightly, “you are nothing like the other one. Should you rise or fall, you have my respect. You shall be remembered as a worthy Prince if not King”.

Danny smiles, “your shattered loyalty made me lose mine towards you. But clearly that was not the case. You just let Vlad’s plan fall apart on its own time”.

The FrightKnight can see a sadness to the young halfas face but he also seems resigned. The destruction of the only other halfa obviously unpleasant but seemingly expected. Something tells him that isn’t because of already knowing the elder halfa had perished. Clearly the younger one was well aware the elder one would destroy himself in his foolish quest for undeserved power and ownership, “He could never have wielded them. He lacked the might”.

“And I?”.

The FrightKnight pauses and looks Phantom over, the halfa has grown over the years. In height, muscle and power. Wisdom and maturity as well it would seem. “That remains to be seen. But I know of no other who might”.

Phantom smirks as he watches the FrightKnight unlock the Sarcophagus and kneel; steam billowing out as Pariah comes into view.

Parish steps forward and grins, “you have returned, my loyal servant”, taking the offered crown as he looks to Phantom, “ah the young powerful one. You have grown”.

Danny smirks, “I’ve grown to fill my throne”. If anyone else had said that, the FrightKnight would have taken it as engorged ego instead of mirthful humour.

Pariah takes his ring, bellowing with the power and pain it grants him, before stepping to stand in front of the challenger. Grinning down at him, “you are the first in eons worth my time. And so you stand to face me in truth. I commend your courage hybrid, I will take great pleasure in stripping you of it”.

Danny laughs as they stand a distance away from each other. The FrightKnight sitting in a chair of pumpkins and bats, as Danny speaks, “my strength of will in battle is one thing that no thing could defeat”. Danny then straightens, bellowing with power and confidence, “I, Danny Phantom, the true halfa and guardian of the Mortal Realm, claim title and place of High Ghost Prince in challenging Pariah Dark, the High Ghost King. To claim throne and mastery of death. To stand illuminated above all others. So come and let blazing death face frosted death. And immortal coil grant crown spear and maim yet chose wisely”.

Pariah grins, “I, Pariah Dark, the High Ghost King and Guardian of the Ghost Realm, grant Danny Phantom his place as High Ghost Prince and accept grand dual. To reaffirm what is mine by right and might, above all others. Frosted death to indeed clash blazing death. And immortal coil grant crown spear and maim yet chose wisely”.

With that, flames surround the two as they face off. Danny laughing and bellowing with the thrill of battle, Pariah smirking and eyes glinting with intrigue, as they rush each other.

Danny instantly shooting out ectoblasts and beams, Pariah matching them. Bouncing off shields, flying and twisting around each other; before both create swords and clash in truth. Phantom’s of ectoice and Pariah’s of ectoflames.

Pariah speaks with blades in front of both of their faces, “you are a child no more, so too is your power no more a burden”.

Danny chuckles as he forces his blade back against Pariah, pushing him back by sheer force, “as I told you years ago. Burdens are based in how you use power, and no one stays young if they use it right”. Before flying forward and slamming the hilt into the side of Pariah’s face. Back flipping to dodge an ectoblast and kicking Pariah in the back.

Pariah slams into a wall but quickly springs himself back and slices Phantom back. Normally anyone would finch away from the blow and Pariah would use the opening to attack again, but not Phantom. Who simply turns and ducks, aggravating the injury, before slashing Pariah’s stomach; following it up with an icy blast.

Pariah grunts and kneels slightly, “you’ve seen a lot of suffering, eh young one”.

Danny just chuckles, “existence is suffering, but I bare it gladly”, kicking Pariah across the face and into a wall, “for the sake of others, for the sake of protection, for the sake of what’s right”, flying over and landing his feet on Pariah’s chest, “such is the role of a proper king”.

Pariah grabs and squeezes Danny’s throat as he drives his icy sword through Pariah’s chest and core. Who cries out in pain as Danny tears out his sword and spins out of the grip on his neck, slashing Pariah across the face in the process.

Pariah lunges up and towards Phantom as the halfa springs away, only to watch the Crown Of Fire fall from his head and clatter to the ground. The two stand and stare at the crown, Phantom smirking, but Pariah has no intention of acknowledging defeat. Crying out, “NEVER!”, before slicing his blazing sword at Phantom.

But Danny doesn’t so much as flinch away or try to block, full well knowing he doesn’t need to, as Pariah stills in the air. ClockWork and the FrightKnight walking over. ClockWork speaking with a smirk as he makes sure only Pariah’s head is free from their stopping of time around him, “I am sure you know well who I am. This battle is lost. If you wish to fight Phantom once more, you’ll do so under the name of Prince, not King”, before slipping the Ring Of Rage off Pariah’s finger. The FrightKnight picking up the Crown Of Fire and looking towards Phantom, both with surprise and respect, before looking back to Pariah, “I serve kings, as has always been my way. I hail your mighty dark reign as it was, in times past not futures to come”.

Pariah glares and grits out, “you are my servant. I demand you obey”.

The FrightKnight shakes his head, “my loyalty lies with that whom rules. I am neither owned nor bribed”.

Danny smirks, thoroughly impressed and slightly surprised, but points his sword in Pariah’s face, “ah the splendid differences between having a friend and having an employee. Friends stand by the person, employees stand by the title. You have lost, and now you will kneel”.

“NEVER”.

Danny just chuckles as he floats over the Sarcophagus Of Forever Sleep with telekinesis. Speaking as the door flicks open, “expected”, shrugging as he walks forward and grips the still frozen old king's collar, “now normally, you’d be free to leave. Establish a lair, maybe challenge me. But with all you have done, those you have hurt and having attempted to harm my lair. You’ve lost such a privilege”.

Pariah cries out, “NO!”, as Danny unclasps his cape and flings it around his own shoulders. The cape altering Its size to fit Its new rightful owner, green skulls clasping onto Danny’s jumpsuit as white flames burst to life around Danny’s neck. Danny kicks Pariah into the Sarcophagus as Pariah glares, “they will never follow a half creature”. Danny chuckles, “they already do”, motioning out the window to the watching crowd. Some are allies, some battle opponents, some are true foes; but all either bow or kneel towards him.

So with a smirk, Danny slams the Sarcophagus door shut and the FrightKnight locks it with a resounding click.

Two Observants appear and wrap it in chains, one turning to Danny, “he will be held for his wrongs in the Eyes Of Ovi Colosseum”. The other one turning to Danny before they float off with the Sarcophagus, “and hail High Ghost King Phantom”.

Danny chuckles, easily hearing how forced that was, before turning to look between ClockWork and the FrightKnight. Who swap their royal artifacts. ClockWork, being Danny’s deponent, having the right to crowning Danny. Who kneels before the old time ghost, looking up at him with a loose smirk, “you’ve seen some serious shit now, haven’t you. I never could have imagined this as a child, but then again”, chuckling, “you know everything”.

ClockWork smiles as he holds up the crown, “that I do Daniel. Such is my blessing and curse”, stepping forward, “now, do you, Danny Phantom, bind yourself to crown, ring and throne. Bind yourself to the powers and sway they grant. To stand above and beyond the touch of Minora, Majora, and Seal law. To stand as creator and guide of the Kings Decrees. Will you keep guard over the Ghost Realm and all those inside it. And stand guard against all those who would seek it harm or destruction; mortal, dead, or unlived. Do you swear to know the gravity of this might and that you can ensure you take this knowing full well you can never relinquish it nor pass it on, due to the nature of your existence; deathless unfade as you are. Granted that you never face defeat”.

Danny smirks up at his old friend and mentor, knowing this was nothing but formalities, “with absolute resolution I know, accept and bind. Core bared, I will stand guardian and king, overall the ghostly lands claimed through might mine. That I shall do so forevermore, so long as I hold my might”.

ClockWork smiles and places the crown over his head, the green flames blazing brighter and bathing the room in a cold glow instead of the once hot one.

The FrightKnight steps up as Danny stands, “then to you, Core bared, I grant and swear allegiance to your illuminated sway. Should you take me and grant me serve under your grand resplendent dominion. Hallows eve to hold steadfast to your reign for all its blessed eons”.

Danny nods with a smile and holds up his left hand, letting the High Dread Knight put the Ring Of Wrath onto his hand. Which shifts and changes forms, from an angry skull to a sad one, becoming the Ring Of Suffering. The FrightKnight stands stiff and stabs his sword into the ground, placing his hands on the base. As Danny grits his teeth and refuses to cry out in pain as the two items recognise each other. Shooting burning and freezing pain through his whole body. He does jerk slightly but shakes himself off immediately. His smile becoming more soft than forced while the FrightKnight blinks in shock, even Pariah could not handle such pain so smoothly.

Danny nods at the FrightKnight, “I am a plenty suffered one”, placing his hands over the FrightKnight’s, on-top of the sword, “I see no better loyal knight to continue his stand as High Dread Knight than that of the keeper of Halloween’s Fright. However, you shall do so not as an indentured servant or obedient pet, but as a respected authority and guiding hand”.

The FrightKnight blinks, again shocked but pleased, “as you wish, my highness”, before kneeling; receiving a pat on the helmet from Phantom. Which he forces himself to not look confused by.

Danny steps in front of ClockWork, “and will you, keeper of my fate, stand as my advisor and mentor still. Yet I can trust that you will always keep time above all others, self and me”.

ClockWork smiles and bows, “but of course. As it always was and always will be. I bless you keep and forever know the guardian of time as one who stands alongside your reign and wisdom. To provide for it but never buckle under it”.

The FrightKnight again shoves down his shock as Phantom sticks his hand under the master of time’s cloak and ruffles the guardian's hair. Both powerful ghosts quietly laughing all the while.

Danny walks out to stand before the crowd of ghosts, flanked by ClockWork and the FrightKnight. Swishing his cape out dramatically and letting his eyes blaze with power as he bellows, “I stand before ye and Realms as High Ghost King, now and forever in might. I claim that which is rightfully mine and my place amongst ye. I shall favour none, ye shall seek me and spare with me as ye see fit. I will not stand before ye an untouchable man nor an ear unwilling to listen. However, know this, I stand and rule as mortal and ghost. As I will always”.

Only those who were truly Danny’s foes did not smile, Walker in fact scoffed, but all kneeled deeply and punched a fist into the ground. Shouting in near unison, “hail High Ghost King Danny Phantom! Grant he keep might and right! Grant us serve and flourish! For mighty King of Ghosts he be!”.

Danny smiles as he spins around, cape billowing out dramatically, as he walks to sit upon his throne. Resting his elbow on the armrest and chin on his fist, as the throne reforms to fight his size. Black, white and angular; peppered with red and green gemstones with white flames bursting to life behind it. The throne room hallway sprouting massive Yew trees with glowing green leaves and black trunks to line the walls. Blue daffodils peppering and blooming open around the trunk bases. The whole castle changing to blacks and whites; pristine and shiny.

The ghosts float just outside of the place now known as Phantom’s keep, as Its lands change from dead trees and barren stones. To a vast expanse of fields, trees, flowers, and ponds; white shimmering mist winding throughout it all. Watching as fairy lights blink and bob around, glowing softly through the mist and illuminating the various plants. Black and pale blue morning glories sprouting from black vines. The swaying red leaves of weeping willows. White roses with black thorns crawling across patches of ground. Purple asters bunched up like bushes. A large field of nothing but softly glowing moonflowers. Ghost orchids and ghost pipes sprouting in spots.

The ghosts can’t help but smile or laugh. At the strange beauty, at the slightly absurd humour, at the showy grandeur. This was Phantom’s alright and now he finally had a proper lair. His proper place amongst them, amongst the Realms. As guardian of both sides of the coin. With a wise advisor and loyal Knight at his side, plenty of allies to stand beside him as well. Even if both friend and foe absolutely were still going to harass him.

End.

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minescript · 4 years

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Freya [Who knows the number]

[The constant difficulty of posting these is that I have a very clear time line on my head but I keep switching back and forth and the majority of these are sent over whatsapp as far too long blocks of text so heh.]

“You are not paying attention.” The potions around the two figures hunched over the workbench kept on bubbling, casting green and blue shadows where they hit the many vials that covered the walls and, despite the constant buzzing of the magical burners enhanced with the aid of some good-quality residuum the genasi was able to listen to the rustle of fabric as her newly minted apprentice shrugged, eyes down and lost. Ireena titled her head as she stared at the purple lines adorning Freya’s features, at the intricacies in where the braids of her hair framed her face: deceitfully young. She had seen the pointed ears and the lean physique the second she had gotten close enough to the young woman, her elven traits not exactly subtle with the tint of her skin, the way her eyes felt older than the rest of her. She had, also, seen the deep sorrow that enveloped everything the kid did; moving a part of a process that felt almost painful with crouched back and curled fingers around a silver chain in where an equally silver ring hung low. She had seen the way it rested against the bones at her collar, at the way it hit the hollow point of the half-elf throat, as a constant reminder of something she wasn’t entirely knowledgeable of what it was. She knew Allura would eventually tell her or she would be able to get the girl to tell her but she felt as if, for now, she still needed to reach a level of understanding of the reason why her friend has asked her to help the woman in front of her that blocked everything else, every other question she might have. And she had plenty. She wasn’t a patient woman after all; she didn’t like the very same concept of deceit unless it came from magic she was able to wield and bottle and there were dark shades into Freya’s story, on the very little she had gotten to learn from her. Allura had told her she had the knack for magic and she had been right: She had come to her dressed like a poor mix of some of the guile that filled the dankest districts with daggers and the ability to walk while not making much of a sound but she, and Ireena had seen that instantly, did not answer to what a thief would do. There was a connection to something else there, deep beneath the layers of sorrow and grief and despair. She looked like she had lost someone and, despite her impatience, Ireena could understand that fully. Which was what made her wonder if it had been the reason why Allura had asked her to do this rather than the others that roamed through both the promenade and the Cloudtop part of the city. Clearing her throat, she glanced at the books on creature physicality and what could one do with every part of their bodies and shook her head: while she preferred a much more mental approach to magic it might be time to try something new: something different. “Freya.” Her name gathered the half-elf attention; with an owlish blink, she returned back to the shop, a wince at the ready on her lips. She looked pale, paler than her complexion would have considered to be healthy and Ireena found herself wondering when had been the last time she had taken a full-night rest. “I’m sorry, I…” Halting in the middle of the sentence, the half-elf hugged herself with bony fingers and pointy shoulders; the blouse she wore loose on her shoulders and poorly fastened around her frame. She looked distraught, as if she had been trying to pull out something from the very depths of herself only to come out empty. Biting on her bottom lip as she tried to find something to say, she looked even younger, even more lost. Narrowing her eyes, the genasi pointed at books and scattered notes before closing them with a well-placed boost of air. The breeze writhed and got caught on Freya’s hair, the pixie cut she wore enough to make some strands of hair cover her eyes for a moment before she blinked, more present now. “I will quiz you about this tomorrow.” Ireena made her voice sound strict but warm, knowing full well there would be no point on her trying to keep maintaining the façade she would keep on saying bouts of wisdom to her apprentice. It would only make the distress grow even further and she, as someone who knew her plants, knew how difficult deeply rooted angst could be to destroy once such things took place and found a place to grow. “I was thinking we could take a stroll instead.” Freya changed her posture, nervous and surprised and Ireena almost smiled at the way the girl looked at her. She knew that, in all the weeks she had already spent teaching the half-elf, they had yet needed to go out the safety and comfort of her shop, but she shook her head in a negative when Freya opened her mouth, probably readying a question as of the how or why. “You haven’t done your first transmutation yet, am I right?” Picking up her cloak, fastening the brooches that kept the fabric in place, she turned towards Freya as the girl frowned; confused. Rolling her eyes at her own pedantry, Ireena pointed at the door of the shop and blasted it open with a calculated change in the air around it. It was a handy and flashy trick but enough to get the half-elf moving. “Your first animal form.” Freya shook her head, her boots not making too much noise as she approached the door from which the noise of the promenade filtered through. Rising her chin, Ireena waved her hand, letting her know it was time to go. “No, I haven’t. I thought you…” Freya stopped herself, shoulders retaining some of the lack of sharpness but back straight, as if posture was something her muscles went back to no matter how or when. There was something there, Ireena could recognize it in the same way she had recognized the carefully rounding of vowels and consonants, but she preferred to feign she hadn’t even when the two of them walked into the sea of people that run through the vein-like streets of Emon. “I planned on teaching you.” She finally answered as she closed the shop, half-glad it was early enough in the afternoon for many of the morning merchants to have already closed up shop. The Promenade was full, but she wasn’t forced to raise her voice as she kept on walking, letting Freya follow her as their feet hit the pebble-covered street. “But I think it would be better for you to see first-hand where you go towards when you are presented with the necessity of transmuting yourself.” Freya didn’t answer to that but nodded at her side, not quite hiding herself on the long-shadows that were beginning to appear at the walls of the nearby buildings at both sides of the promenade but walking with enough lag on her step for Ireena to need to twist her neck, so she was able to follow her movements. There was the dissonance once again, the picked-up traits of a rogue, of a fiend who fed themselves in the aid of darkness but the bright, almost blinding light of someone used to walk with a kind of walk that commanded presence, strength. She wondered if Freya was aware of such dissonance. Another thing to ask Allura whenever she found time to go visit her back at the Cloudtop. Not like they were going to go very far from where her friend lived but she wasn’t planning on telling Freya that. “Through here.” Taking the hill that would put them in front of one of the many gates that led to the Cloudtop, Ireena shook her head when one of the many street vendors approached the two of them: her eyes enough for the young purple Tiefling to recoil before muttering something or other in infernal. Smiling to herself, she answered back in abysmal, the dialects different but similar enough for the Tiefling to grumble before, finally, letting them keep on walking. “You shouldn’t have talked to him like that.” There it was; the sense of righteousness that Ireena knew Freya hold within her, beyond the anger and grief. Shrugging herself, she rose one single eyebrow to one of the guards at the gates before producing the ring she had been giving by the Council, the symbol of Emon enough for the guard to let them pass with no small curiosity etched onto his features. “He shouldn’t have insulted me in the first place. I merely reminded him that one shouldn’t infer the ability to put one’s head up your ass by their looks.” That garnered a poorly hidden smile: a small, minute one that made Ireena hide one on her own. She liked Freya, liked what she could see whenever the half-elf let her guard down and it could that be precisely the reason why, despite everything, she kept on teaching her. She had the ability to be a wonderful druid, her connection with nature unparalleled. And if her teachings were enough to make her think on something else, anything else, beyond the ring she now had started playing once again as they kept on walking… well, that was for the better. “Where are we going?” The question came as the rounded one of the corners that run through the upper and furthest ends of the Cloudtop. They weren’t quite at the epicenter, the houses bombastic and bigger than what one would see back at the Central district or the ones at her own neighborhood but not as disgustingly rich as the ones that rose beyond the roofs of the ones they were walking by. Fiery lights sitting atop metal poles were a signal, however, that they had changed the lower slums in where torches still would illuminate the place once dawn came from a place where gold run much more freely. Fewer people, more guards, more humans, mortals, was the price to pay for the change as well and Ireena could feel her skin prickling as the two of them were stared at. Not out of hate, maybe, but curiosity and the genasi sucked on her teeth as she was reminded yet again why she didn’t like the stuffy nobles that liked so much to look at them all through reddish rimmed eyes. Pointing at the thin, narrow tower that rose above every other building in the area, Ireena let Freya take into the blue glimmer that came from the brimstones etched at the sides of the tower walls. Their light wasn’t strong yet as night had yet to come and no skyship was expected so no lighthouse was needed at the time but the look of the glyphs running through the brimstones was equally magical, powerful, and precisely what the half-elf would find interesting. “I’m sure Allura had already given you the tour.” She said, nonchalantly. “And you might have already seen one back where you are from: The Alsfarian Union is very set onto making as many of these as possible after all. But I think going to the skyport will be beneficial.” Freya frowned while rising one of her hands so she could shield her eyes: her Drow elven traits were kicking in: the slowly turning orange light hitting the tower with enough force that while Ireena double eyelids kept her irises protected she guessed it wasn’t the same for the much particular irises of the half-elf. “What has that to do with my animal form?” Ireena smiled but said nothing as she kept on walking, nodding to every other guard while prominently waving the ring around: it didn’t matter how much the ones at the Cloudtop wanted to make themselves think they were better: racism was a thing; prejudice another. Finally, as they entered into the narrower alley that opened up the plaza from where cables had been thrown and fastened around the brimstones many feet above their heads, she let out a sour chuckle. One that made the other woman hum at her side. “How good do you think you are at flying?” The question rendered Freya speechless and Ireena kept on walking, nodding her greetings to the two safeguards that, idly, smoke at the entrance of the narrow tower. Narrow enough, if anyone wanted Ireena’s honest opinion, to make the thing unsafe. Or would have, if it hadn’t been for the brimstones themselves who, fueled by the magic from the Alsfarian Union, kept the skyships not only in perfect condition but the stone from where the tower had been built. “Can you hoist us?” The question was met with intense curiosity, but she produced a few gold coins to pay the passage, her movements slowed down so she exuded the confidence of one born with titles and power. The oldest of the humans grunted an affirmative as he killed the cigarette he had been smoking, the faint odor making Ireena wrinkle her nose as she stood at the wooden platform that had been mounted on rails alongside the entire surface of the northern wall of the tower. “Come on.” She called as Freya followed her, head tilted towards the sky, as if she was counting how many feet it rose above everything else. Quite a lot, but not something Ireena was ready to disclose: many were the druids who found themselves unable to perform a transmutation the first time after all. Specially one that would force them to fly and leave away the security ground provided. Which was, precisely, the point in all of that. As the worker approached one smaller brimstone at the right-side of the platform, infusing it with residual magic that fed into the clogs beneath their feet, Ireena ironed her clothes around her frame, pointing at Freya as the half-elf pressed the palms of her hands against her upper thighs. “Careful with the wind.” She had just said it when the platform began to rise, the yelp from Freya enough for Ireena to suppress a chuckle: the first time she had been brought here by Allura she had made a similar scream out of surprise. It felt good; knowing some things didn’t truly change. The platform rose above the Cloudtop district, above the houses Ireena so hated, above Allura’s own tower that while visible from where they were, was still hidden by many alleys and streets, the whiteness of it blinding and far too much on its own right. It rose until the air felt thinner and colder, coming to a stop atop of it all; the flat surface of the tower a welcoming port to the skyships that could be marooned at both sides of it with the aid of low-hanging ropes in where stones and gems rested, ready to latch onto the ones peppered alongside the ships themselves. The fall was, obviously, quite the big one and Ireena glanced down with just the slightest bit of trepidation as Freya took into the sight in front of her, above her. Emon rose and surged in all its glory: the circles that constituted the city itself silver and brown at their feet; the upper and lower slums, the central, temple, erudite and military districts gleaming with their own right beyond their own gates as the Ozmar sea glowed in iron and white. It was beautiful on its own right, that much was true, but Ireena didn’t let Freya get too lost on the sight. “You told me you felt Sehanine calling to you.” At the mention of the Moonweaver Freya glanced at her, quick enough for Ireena to wince inwardly at the possibility of a whiplash. Nevertheless, she continued. “Many will tell you that Melora is always a better one to follow the druid’s path.” Shrugging, she pointed at where the shadows of the moons could already be sensed as the sun kept its path on the sky above. “I say that you are right on your perception, as long as its true. That’s what transmutation is about, no matter what the Sorceress and Erudites might tell you.” Freya’s eyes were open, the sorrow still there but curiosity gnawing at her and Ireena chuckled slightly before she pointed beyond the moons, towards the sky. “While we theoretically can transform into about anything, we need the knowledge to do it. Some transmutations will come easier to you than others. Some animals won’t be possible until you are able to see them beforehand. But I want to see what you can do now. I want you to focus on that abstract possibility and follow it. Understood? You have seen enough birds, I’m sure. Look into one. Call the power forth. Use the focus I lent you.” The focus was a small stone, one that had been in one bracelet before she had given it to the half-elf and while it would never be the one Freya would settle for as focus needed to be chosen, not gifted, it would do the trick. And everyone, in Ireena’s opinion, needed to feel powerful when all they felt was small and lost. She waited and stared as Freya grasped the gem between her fingers, lines on her face hardening momentarily as the wind rose and surged at their side. With no ships expected to arrive the platform was empty and only the creaking of the wood could be heard, no seagulls flying high enough for them to be able to hear them. Ireena wondered for a second which form would Freya take: the theory was easy after all; she didn’t bear any doubt her pupil would be able to transform. In what, however, would be more telling, more informative, than anything else she could come up with. A hawk perhaps, some eagle, a small sparrow. When the distant moons winked at them sending a blue-ish light that formed rivulets of power around and within Freya’s form, however, Ireena took a step back, her feet hitting the surface of the platform with more strength than she had anticipated. Absolution, freedom. Where Freya had stood now a white crow awaited, intelligence shining on her eyes. Interesting. Ireena didn’t need to ask her what she wanted her to do next; wingspan already at the ready, the crow rose proud and regal, spirals painted on the sky as she rose and rose, lowering when a set of clouds blew icy wind onto their way. Well well, Allura had been right. The kid HAD a knack for this. And, as the crow kept on flying, Ireena cracked up a smile. Proud.

#freya

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i-will-die-for-jim-mason · 5 years

Text

Casual Friday, we promise! (Sub!Jim Mason x Fem!reader)

A/n Alright Y'all I'm gonna be real and tell you up front I wrote most of this when I was still fucked up my wisdom teeth meds, and have never really edited anything in my life so this is what is. Which is some filth. And Shout out to @langdonsoceaneyes for putting up with all my bitching while I wrote this.

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Smut, oral, public play, butt plugs, cock rings, femdom, dirty talk.

“Babe, are we really doing this?" Jim asked eyeing the toy's you had set out on the bed, while he was in the shower.

"If you want to back out you know what to say." You smirked knowing for as much as he whined he was probably even more into this idea than you, which was saying a lot.

Jim didn't respond right away but you could practically hear him arguing with himself in his head.

You watched him from your spot on the edge of the bed. Letting your eyes roam over him, taking in how handsome he looked even just out of the shower, watching drops of water occasionally dripping off his still damp hair, running down his tanned chest all the down to the white towel loosely hanging on his hips. You couldn't help but want to run your hands over the soft skin.

After a few moments, Jim groaned, before huffing out "Fine."

"Good now that we're all in agreement, drop the towel, Mr. Mason." Jim rolled his eyes at you but did as you asked.

You motioned for him to come closer till he was almost standing between your legs, you reached out caressing the soft skin of his hip, listing to the soft hitch of his breath. With your other hand, you grabbed the cock ring next to you on the bed.

You slipped it on him, watching the way the muscles in his thighs twitched from you touching his still soft cock. Once you had it secured you looked up and saw Jim staring at the ceiling, knowing him he was probably biting his bottom, trying to not get too riled up knowing what was in store for him.

But where's the fun in that?

Leaning forward you press some light kisses to stomach, you can feel his eyes on you now, trying to figure out what your plan is.

Pulling back, you look up into his eyes before patting the space next to you on the bed. "Alright baby we still have another toy, so hands and knees on the bed."

"How romantic." Jim mocked, as he moved on to the bed.

To which you responded to with a hard slap on his ass, watching how his body jerked while he let out a groan from the surprise hit.

"Don't be a brat, I was planning to give you some prep for the next toy but I could just shove it in there dry if that's what you’d prefer?" You tease, running your hand over where you spanked him.

"I'll be good." Jim whines, shooting you a look over his shoulder, pink lips pouting at you.

"That's my sweet boy." You move to kneel behind him placing a kiss on the small of his back, before moving your attention and hands to what's right in front of you.

You squeeze two handfuls of his ass listing to the little breathy noises he makes, slightly pushing back into your touch. Letting go with one hand you bring it to your mouth wetting one of the digits.

Moving back to his ass you use your other hand to pull back one cheek, running your wet finger around his hole, barely pushing the tip of your finger in.

"You feel so fucking tight baby, with how long you took in the shower, I was half expecting to see you gaping."

"Y/N" Jim whined, pushing back trying to get you to go further.

"Hmm? Do you need something?" You hummed, grinning at the fact you already had him begging.

"Please!" Jim whined.

"Please? Please, what? You're gonna have to be more specific than that baby." You tease, still barely playing with his hole.

"Please...Please just put it in me already."

"Aw baby, you should know by now I don't do anything by halves, but since you asked so nicely maybe I'll at least give you a treat."

You move your hands so they're spreading his ass, leaning down you give a quick kiss to a cheek, before moving further down.

Running your tongue around his hole, the gasp that rips out of him is enough to spur you on.

Pushing your tongue into his tight little ass, Jim letting out more and more noises at every little movement of your tongue. Pushing back against you trying to get just a little more friction, just withering as you fuck your tongue into him.

You could have spent all night in between his legs, just listening to his reactions but tonight had other plans.

Pulling back you nip at his ass, while he whined at the loss.

“What do you still want more?” You teased running a hand along his back. To which Jim only replied with a shaky nod.

“Such a greedy little boy aren't you?” You asked, slapping his ass when he didn't respond.

Grabbing a fist full of his hair you pulled him back to make him look at you. Dazed blue eyes meeting yours.

Running two fingers along his bottom lip he quickly takes them into his mouth moaning around them.

“God look at you, you are so fucking spoiled.” You pump your fingers in and out of his mouth watching the way his plumb lips spread around them. “What do you say when someone gives you a treat?”

The thank you is muffled from around your fingers, but you can't seem to bring yourself to care as you watch him sloppily suck on them, his eyes closed, face red, already looking completely fucked out before the night even began.

Pulling them out of his mouth he lets out another whine, lips blindly chasing your fingers.

Lightly shushing him, you bring your now wet fingers back to his ass, pushing one into him. Watching how his face contorts letting out a moan.

Figuring you've teased him enough, for now, you easily add in the second finger, stretching him open listening to the wanton moans he was letting out. Pushing his hips back into you.

You continued stretching him out, he was finally ready.

You grabbed the plug and lube from their place on the bed. You can feel Jim's eyes watching you as you cover the plug in lube.

“We're almost at the fun part baby.” You grin, watching how Jim flushes at another reminder that his night is just beginning.

You slowly push the plug into him, letting him adjust.

“The stretch feel good?” Jim answers with a moan as you push the widest part into him, settling the plug into him.

“So fucking good.” He manages to get out when you have the plug fully in him.

“You doing okay?” You ask softly, running a comforting hand along his back.

“Y-yeah.” He panted out after a second.

“Well I'm gonna have you doing a lot better than that by the time I'm done with you tonight.” You say, grabbing the little black the remote that came with the plug.

Switching it to its lowest setting, you watched the shock run up Jims back, the strangled sounding moan he let out was enough to tell you he didn't think you were going to turn it on just yet.

“Well come on babe you can't lay there all night, we have reservations.”

The car ride to the restaurant was tense, well at least for Jim. You happened to have a great time, getting to watch Jim from the corner of your eye. Tensing every time he thought you might be reaching for the little remote, but you played somewhat nice for the ride only turning it on to the lower levels. Not high enough to make him cum, but high enough to make sure he felt it. And judging by the little moans he was trying to bite back the whole ride, you’re willing to bet that it was working.

When you arrived you took mercy on him turning down to a couple of notches so he wouldn’t be too obvious just walking into the restaurant.

That mercy lasted till the second you two sat at your table, turning it up a few notched you watched a full body shiver run up Jim's spine. His blue eyes staring at you his expression somewhere between pleading and pissed.

To which you just smirked, pretending to look over your menu, telling him to do the same. You casually played with the remote watching how tightly Jim would grip his menu when you turned it up.

“Y/n,” Jim whine quietly, “please I can't read with it that high.”

“Aww poor baby, I guess you should have thought of that before.” You turn it up a notch, watching how Jim bit his lip.

“Please, just turn it down a little?” He whispered, eye pleading.

“Fine but this is the only time.” You told him, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Thank you.”

“Good boy.” You turned it down, giving him a minute to collect himself, while you formulated a little plan.

Not soon after the waiter came, quickly taking your order before turning to jim. As soon as he opened his mouth to give his order you switched the remote up to one of its highest settings.

Jim's knee jerked up hitting the table, as he tried to hide the moan as a cough.

“Are you okay Jim?” You asked a look of fake concern on your face.

“I'm fine.” He said tensely once his “coughing fit” was over.

“Are you sure? You look a little flushed to me.”

“I'm fine.” He repeated, slightly glaring at you, before quickly giving the waiter his order.

“That wasn't fair.” Jim whispers, lightly pouting once the waiter left.

“I said I'd let you read the menu and I did.”

“We almost got caught.”

“Correction you almost got caught, I'm not the pervert with a vibe up my ass.” You corrected quietly, watching how he flushed even more.

“Bathroom.” Was all Jim said before leaving the table, doing a decent enough job of not looking too suspicious. Well for someone in his situation.

Waiting a few beats, you eventual got up making your way after him.

Slipping into the bathroom locking the door behind you, you saw Jim leaning against the sink counter. Looking even less composed than a few minutes ago at the table.

“You know if we're gone too long it'll be even more suspicious than that little “coughing fit” of yours.” You mused as you made your way towards him.

“Y/n.” Jim whined.

“What's wrong, are you not having fun anymore? Cause your cock says otherwise.” You tease, pressing your hand against the hard outline of his cock.

“Shit.” Jim curses, rocking his hips into your hand.

“Did I say you could to do that?” You asked, squeezing his cock.

“No, I'm sorry. Just please let me cum it's too much!” He begged, watering blue eyes staring at you.

“I bet it is too much for you, isn't it? If you didn't have that cock ring on you would've cum five times at least by now.” Jim just whimpered in response, hips jerking into you.

“But even if it's too much you gonna take it aren't you? Do you know why?” You palmed his cock slowly giving him more friction.

“Why?” Jim asked, biting his bottom lip.

“Because all that time that you were in here by yourself you could have slipped the ring off and gotten yourself off. But you didn't, because you didn't have permission did you?”

“N-no.” Jim managed to stutter out, eyes closing slightly as you picked up the pace.

“And you wouldn't do anything unless I told you to would you, and for that matter, you would do anything I told you wouldn't you?” You moved closer, all but whispering it into his ear.

“I could slip the ring off right now, turn off the plug, and tell you to rut against my hand until you cum in your pants, and you would fucking thank me wouldn't you?”

“Yes, yes I would please. Please just do anything.” Jim begged you could feel how tight his muscle were trying to keep from rocking into you without permission.

“You would do anything I say cause you want to be such a good boy don't you?” His hip bucked into your hand, at your words little whimpers leaving his mouth.

“Always” He managed to whine out.

“Is that what you want? For me to make you cum in your pants right now?”

“Yes please, y/n please let me.” He begged, eyes closed.

“Well good boys do get to cum.” You mussed, nipping lightly at his neck for a moment before pulling back.

“It's just too fucking bad you're not acting like one right now then.” You took a step back, taking your hand off his hard cock.

“What?” He opened his eyes watching you, a look of confusion on his face.

“A good boy wouldn't sneak off to the bathroom and beg for me to let him cum, he would have sat in his chair and not act like he's calling any of the shots around here.” You said sternly, taking in his fucked out appearance.

“So what's going to happen now is I'm going to go back to the table, and you're going to follow me in a few. And if I don't get to enjoy my food because you're being a spoiled needy slut, I'm going to wreck your ass so hard you're not gonna walk for a week.” You explained, moving closer to him again, feeling how he tensed at as you ran a hand over his chest.

You moved so your lips were right next to his ear you whispered: “But you would like that wouldn't you?”

You quickly left, smirking at the whine that left him at your words.

The rest of dinner was less eventful, it mainly consisted of watching Jim squirm in his seat while you ate, occasionally switching around the remote settings.

You could see that Jim was about to start begging right there when the waiter asked about dessert, but you could see Jim's visible relief when you said you had something sweeter at home.

Even on the car ride home, Jim was surprisingly quiet, your best guess was he was trying to be on his best behavior after the bathroom incident.

Even once you made it inside he was still quite, all though just from a quick glance at him you could tell that it was taking a hell of a lot of willpower.

“What's wrong baby boy? Afraid your gonna fuck up and say something that'll make me leave you like that all night?” You teased kicking off your shoes, before sitting down on the couch.

“Well lucky for you I'm not done having fun so come here.” You pointed to the spot on the floor in front of you, Jim quickly moved easily settling on to his knees.

“So what's it gonna be Jimmy are you going to be a good boy for me or a needy little slut?” You asked reaching a hand to run through his soft hair.

“A good boy.” He muttered leaning into your touch.

“Well, I remember that you said you were going to be good earlier today but look at what happened.” You pulled his head back by his hair to look at you. Jim let out a moan at the sensation

“I think you're going to need to prove it to me this time.” You grinned down at him.

“You were so eager to use your pretty little mouth to try and get to cum earlier, so why don't we try a different version of that?” You swore you could see Jim's eyes darken even more.

“Please, Y/n. Let me show you I can be a good boy.” He begged his voice low and pleading.

“Well, when you ask so nicely.” You spread your legs, hiking your dress up and Jim wasted no time, leaning he pressed his lips to your thighs.

“No teasing baby.” You warned pulling his hair.

Moving forward he pressed his tongue against your still covered cunt, licking the wet material.

Before pulling back to look at you. “Please, may I taste pussy?”

“Oh someone really wants to make sure they can cum huh?” You teased, smirking down at him.

“Please.” He whined pressing his face into your thigh, lightly nipping at it but you let it slide. Maybe this was why he acted so spoiled.

“Fine but you better hurry up.” You “relented” letting him pull your panties off of you.

He quickly moved back, liking a broad stripe, before moving to suck on your clit. You could feel Jim moan against you, tongue hungrily working you open.

Playing with him before you two left, watching him squirm in his chair at dinner, plus the whole bathroom incident had you soaking and now having Jim on his knees eating you out like his life depended on it was heaven.

You felt yourself close to your edge quickly, pressing Jim's head even closer to you he let out another moan, tongue working even faster.

“Fuck baby, that's it.” You were practically bucking against his face at this point, but the moans he was letting out only spurred you further.

Until finally it hit you, while Jim kept going eager to taste more of you while you rode out your high.

You pulled him back by his hair, Jim let out a whine. Whether it was from the hair pulling or from taking him away from one of his favorite treats was anyone guess.

“Well, I guess you can be a good boy when you want to huh?” You mused, running your hand through his hair again.

“But I suppose you've had enough for one night haven't you baby? I think it's time for you to get your reward, now take off your clothes.” You instructed, almost laughing at how fast Jim managed to slip out of his clothes.

Once they were off he made his way back to between your legs, standing this time.

“God look at you, your cock is fucking soaked.” You ran a hand along the length smearing pre-cum.

“If I didn't know better I would have thought that you already came.” Jim moaned, slightly bucking into your touch.

“Well since you seemed so keen on fucking yourself against my palm early, I thought I would do you one better and let you ride my thigh.” You explained as you took his cock ring off.

“Please.” Jim moaned, already on the cusp.

“Come here, baby.” You patted your thigh, Jim quickly moved to straddle it.

“What are the rules?” Jim asked, trying not to grind himself against you already.

“No rules baby, all you have to worry about is making yourself cum, I'll take care of the rest.” You reassured, placing a hand on his hip, using the other one to turn gis plug up even higher.

With that Jim started, moving against you in a shaky rhythm, tucking his head into your neck. Letting out delicious noises.

“That's it, baby, make yourself feel good, you're being such a good boy for me.” You ran a hand down his back, all the way down to his ass.

You gave him a quick slap, making him rock into you even harder, before reaching to grab the base of his still vibrating plug.

You started pulling it out of him till just the tip remained before, pushing it back in. You kept slowly fucking the plug in and out of him, while he rode your thigh

Soon you felt his rhythm get even jerkier you knew he was right on the edge, you started fucking him with the plug even faster. “Come on baby, be a good boy and cum for me.”

That seemed to push him over the edge, letting out a deep moan, you felt his hot cum on your thigh. He stayed like for a few moments while you turned off the plug tossing it to the other side of the couch before he pulled back looking at you.

“There's my sweet boy,” You cooed pushing his hair out of his face.

“Did I do good?” Jim asked quietly after a moment.

“You did so fucking good for me, baby.” You pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Couldn't find a better boy even if I wanted to.”

“Let's get you a shower and into bed sweetheart.” You suggested He just nodded in agreement too blissed out to even care.

#jim mason #sub!jim mason #sub jim mason #jim mason x reader #sub jim mason x reader #ttopv #topv #the tribes of palos verdas #tribes of palos verdas #cody fern #mine

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taehyungiestummy · 5 years

Text

Return to Paradise--Chapter Nine

Masterlist Previous Next

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3853

Two more days pass at home before my energy is back and the cramps are but a too recent memory. Over those two days, all the boys visited to cheer me up. Hoseok and Jungkook came with Taehyung and Namjoon the first day. They brought way too many sweets for me. Then, Jimin and Yoongi came on the second day bringing silly videos to make me laugh. Jin was there every day helping Nari with cooking.

Honestly, it just made me feel so loved that all seven of the boys came over to try and make me feel better. Their ways didn’t help that much, but it’s the thought that counts.

“Nice to be back at the studio,” I smile as the elevator doors open.

“Just happy you are feeling better,” Emily says.

The both of us exit the elevator and make the familiar walk to the practice room.

“I want all the hugs,” I sigh, placing a hand on the door handle. “Hope these boys are ready for July.” I open the door and we enter.

The seven boys are all over the room doing various kinds of stretching.

“Morning boys,” I shove my hands into my sweatshirt pouch, walking over to Taehyung.

Emily closes the door before making her way over to Namjoon. “Miss us?”

“Amber,” Mr. Son says from the other side of the room. “Are you feeling better?”

“Ah, so the boys told everyone I was ill,” I dive into Korean. “I am feeling much better. My energy is back, and I am in no pain.”

“Jagiya, sit,” Taehyung pats the floor next to him.

“That is good to hear,” Mr. Son smiles.

I carefully lower myself to the floor, “Anything special planned for today?”

Taehyung turns his face to look at me, “Just practicing our dances.”

“No make-up today?” I poke his nose.

He smiles, “Only a little bit just in case.”

“You guys wear it all the time it seems,” I tease.

“It’s not all the time,” Taehyung taps my nose. “Sometimes we are bare when here.”

“Don’t we look good?” Jimin enters the conversation.

“Always,” I glance over at the red head. “You just like getting make-up put on, don’t you?”

“Noona’s like to practice for when it’s for TV,” Taehyung pouts. “Tomorrow, no make-up on our date.”

“You don’t wear make-up, do you Amber?” Jimin asks.

“I do,” I laugh. “Doesn’t look like it, but I do.”

“What?”

“Lipstick, blush, and sometimes I use mascara,” I smile. “My face is beautiful with or without make-up, so I don’t do too much. I don’t do any crazy colors, but I do have Emily watch what I do.”

“Natural beauty,” Taehyung connects our lips in a less than innocent kiss.

“Ah, Tae loves his girlfriend,” Hoseok teases.

I push Taehyung away, breaking the kiss. “He really does.”

“Best thing about Amber, go!” Jungkook shouts.

“Ah,” Taehyung is no short of shocked. “Her, um, laugh. It is so cute. And her smile.”

I rest my head on Taehyung’s shoulder, “Aish, silly boys.”

“I like Amber’s poetry,” Yoongi speaks up. “Tae, have you read any of her poems.”

“Yoongi,” I whine. “He can’t read them.”

“Why not?” Taehyung puts her arm around my waist. “No one to translate? I know some English that I could figure it out.”

“They’re about you,” Yoongi shrugs. “Let him read your cute thoughts.”

“I didn’t bring my notebook, so he can’t,” I scrunch up my face in fake anger as I look at Yoongi.

“Are you trying to look threatening?”

“Maybe.”

“You just look super cute,” Yoongi softly chuckles.

“Hmph,” I frown. “Watch out, blond boy.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Emily giggles. “She’s all bark, no bite.”

“Please, share all my secrets,” I sarcastically say, rolling my eyes.

“Oh, don’t tease me, or I will.”

“Now I want to know,” Seokjin laughs. “Just one secret.”

“I’ll kill you, Emily,” I glare at my best friend.

“All bark, no bite,” Namjoon grabs Emily’s hands.

“In that case,” Emily smirks. “Amber is terrified of storms.”

I relax, “Oh, that’s not bad.”

“I’ll protect you from all the storms, jagiya,” Taehyung kisses the top of my head.

“That is actually really cute,” Yoongi sends a wink my way.

“Say another secret!” Hoseok exclaims.

“A cute one, so Amber is even cuter to us,” Jungkook smiles.

“Hm, another cute secret,” Emily bites her bottom lip.

“I will expose you, Em,” I stare down my friend. “I have secrets for you too.”

“Bring it on,” Emily taunts.

“Battle of secrets,” Jimin cutely laughs.

“Hm, let’s see,” I tap my temple. “Ah, Emily is afraid of moths. For no reason.”

“They’re ugly,” Emily shrugs. “That all you got?”

“She also puts ketchup on her mac and cheese like some gross person,” I smirk.

“Ew!” Hoseok cringes.

“It can’t be that bad,” Seokjin shrugs.

“It’s good,” Emily sits up, no longer leaning against Namjoon. “Amber here, if you really get her laughing, snorts.”

“Looks like we have to get real funny,” Jungkook chuckles.

“That’s cute,” Yoongi grins. “All laughs are unique and special.”

“Well, when Emily laughs hard enough, she just stops making noise,” I firmly nod. “She looks like she’s choking on something.”

“Low blow,” Emily chuckles.

“I bet you still look cute, baby,” Namjoon presses a kiss to Emily’s temple.

“These girl’s look cute doing almost anything,” Jimin says.

“Okay,” Emily takes in a breath. “Amber has a night light app on her phone that she uses because she is afraid of the dark.”

“Hey!” I push off Taehyung, fully aware this is going downhill fast. Yet, I have no intention to stop it.

“I can protect you, jagiya,” Taehyung places a hand on my knee.

“Fine. Emily told my sister she was getting her wisdom teeth pulled in a few days because I told her mum’s the word, and she thought that meant the secret was already out. My sister cried, passed out, and cried more.”

“I said I was sorry!” Emily defends. “And I bought her gifts.”

“She almost ran away!” I sigh. “In the end, she was a champ, but still, you broke her.”

“You get way too involved when watching the Cubs. I know you want them to win, but damn girl, you go crazy.”

“You do the same with reality TV shows. It’s all scripted, and no one lives their lives like they do. It’s all so pointless.”

“You can’t sleep without your beloved teddy bear,” Emily looks shocked once the words have left her mouth.

“Whoa,” Jimin looks frantically between Emily and myself for a few seconds.

“Nothing wrong with that,” Yoongi says.

“Emily has to have an old blanket nearby or else she can’t sleep,” I raise my eyebrows at my best friend.

“Still nothing wrong with that,” Namjoon slowly nods.

“Amber has such a dirty mind,” Emily blurts out. “Anything could be a sex joke, or whatever, to her.”

“Uncalled for!” I can’t help but jump up so I’m standing.

“That might be good for you, Tae,” Jungkook chuckles.

“Someone isn’t as innocent as she seems,” Hoseok teases.

“Emily almost refused my offer of coming over here because South Korea isn’t a cool place for summer vacation,” I clench my hands into fists. “Why not Paris or whatever? She tagged along because she’s my best friend and couldn’t let me go to a new country all alone. I have too many problems, and I need to be watched.”

“No, no,” Emily bursts to a standing position. “I came because I love you, and a whole summer apart would be hell.”

“Sure,” I roll my eyes. “I know my mom talked to you. I know she brought up my mental health.”

“You want to marry Taehyung!” She angrily shouts.

I tense, taking a second to control myself. “You’re in love with Namjoon but won’t tell him because you’re afraid he doesn’t feel the same. He clearly does though. He’s so sweet to you!”

The room goes silent; no one knows the right thing to say.

“Marry me,” Taehyung happily sighs. “Ah, my heart.”

“Emily, you love me?” Namjoon asks.

Emily and I soften in seconds. The realization of our words sinking in.

“What did we just do?” I place my hands on my head.

“I don’t know, but I feel weird about it all,” Emily sighs, letting her head fall.

“I’m sorry,” I rush over and embrace the girl. “I went too far.”

“No, I’m sorry,” she wraps her arms around me. “I started it and should have ended it.”

We break the hug and look into each other’s eyes, “Thanks, though.”

We can’t help but burst into giggles.

“What just happened?” Jungkook is overly confused.

“Best friends knowing those secrets are nothing and won’t ruin our friendship,” I smile, going to sit back down by Taehyung.

“So, marry me,” Taehyung smirks.

“We will talk later about that,” I pat his cheek.

“I do love you, Emily,” Namjoon pulls Emily back down on the floor next to him. “Realized it when telling our managers about you girls. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid it was too soon.”

“We were both scared for no reason,” Emily smiles.

“Now kiss!” Jimin, Jungkook, and I shout as one.

Namjoon shakes his head, but gives Emily a kiss. “Today has started off a little too crazy for me.”

********

“I have date jitters,” I giggle, trying to decide on which dress I should wear. “Flowers, polka dots, or tie-dye?”

“The flower one is cute,” Nari says from her seat on a beanbag. She took half a day off work to see us off on our dates.

After confessing their love for each other, Namjoon and Emily decided they need to go out on a proper date. Since the boys only get a day off every so often, they decided to figure something out quick for a date today.

“Just put something on so you stop walking around in your bra and underwear,” Emily teases, stepping into our room from the bathroom across the hall. Her hair is loosely curled, and her make-up is classy.

“Where are your dates again?” Nari asks.

I slip the flower dress on, “Picnic in the park where we met.”

“Fancy restaurant somewhere,” Emily fixes her cross necklace. She’s wearing a dark purple dress that covers her knees.

“Both sound super sun,” Nari smiles. “Amber, are you not wearing any make-up?”

“Not on this date,” I smile, putting my crystal rock bracelet on my right wrist. “Both of us will be bare faced.”

“Isn’t that dress meant to stop above the knee,” Emily looks me up and down.

“I’m short,” I pout, looking down to see the dress covering me knees.

“It’s still cute,” Emily giggles.

“Taehyung loves your height,” Nari stands up. “Makes him feel more manly.”

“Seokjin told you this?” I grab my phone.

“He tells me everything,” she winks at me.

“Do you think the boys will show up at the same time?” Emily walks over to me, hand instantly fixing my hair.

“Most likely,” I swat at her hands. “My hair is fine. I look good.”

“You do look good,” Emily pats my cheek. “This type of date is your ideal one.”

“It is,” I giggle. “Just a simple time in a park. No crazy formal outfits, or any amount of make-up that I hate.”

“That’s where we are different,” Emily smiles. “I love dressing up and making my face look like a model.”

“The saying is true,” Nari speaks up.

“Huh?” Emily and I look over at Nari.

“Opposites attract. You two are quite different when it comes to certain things in life. Yet, you are still super close.

“That is true,” I slip my flip-flops on. “So, heels, Em?”

Emily laughs, “Flats, don’t want to be tall today.” She grabs the pair of black flats off her desk.

“Let’s go wait in the living room,” Nari motions for us.

The three of us make our way to the living room. Emily takes a seat on the couch while Nari takes her usual spot in the recliner. I, however, can’t bring myself to sit down.

“Are you okay Amber?” Nari asks.

“Feel like you forgot something?” Emily probes for a problem.

“I just got super nervous,” I take a slow breath. “Like, the battle of secrets revealed a lot.”

“Oh yeah, Seokjin told me about that yesterday,” Nari bites her bottom lip.

“The boys wanted us to do another one yesterday,” Emily rolls her eyes. “Never again.”

“Well, I have to talk to Tae about how I want to marry him,” I place my hands on the back of the couch.

“Sorry, I went too far with that,” Emily grimaces.

“Taehyung must have taken that well, because he’s still a hyper boy,” Nari says. “He almost seems happier now.”

“He could be,” I sigh. “He was even touchier yesterday. I think it really sunk it, and he was showing how much he loves me. Yoongi says we are soulmates.”

“Does he?”

“Didn’t he tell you that a week or so ago?” Emily questions.

“Something like that,” I nod. “If he believes me and Taehyung are meant to be together, then he can really see our love. It makes me feel confident that we’ll be together for a long time.”

“Yoongi knows just what to say,” Nari smiles. “It makes me happy you and he are close.”

“I hope to get closer to the others as time goes on.”

“We will,” Emily reassures. “In fact, we already are closer with them than last year.”

“That is true,” I let out a breath. “I feel better now.” I start to make my way around the couch, and then the doorbell rings.

“Looks like your dates are here,” Nari chuckles.

“And I am nervous again.”

********

“This is so beautiful,” I smile as I skip around the small, secluded area of the park. “Perfect so we can be alone,” I look over at Taehyung as he lays out a blanket on the grass.

Trees surround us on all sides of the area, wildflowers grow in patches, and a small stream runs through in a winding path. It is an untouched piece of nature.

“Jagi, come sit,” Taehyung’s deep, Korean voice drops me back into reality.

I turn to look at the boy who I get to call my boyfriend. “Only Korean today, okay?” I walk over and sit down in front of him.

“I was planning on it. Your Korean is so cute,” Taehyung smiles.

“This is such a good idea,” I smile back. “We walked past the bench where we first met. That holds so many memories for me. I love this park for bringing us together.”

“This park is very special to me.”

“Now, what did you make me?” I giggle. “Did you actually make something, or go out and buy it.”

Taehyung puts a hand over his heart and fakes a hurt expression. “You deserve better than store bought. I did make the food, with help from Jin-hyung.” He turns and begins rummaging around in the picnic basket.

I take the time to soak in the young man in front of me.

Taehyung is wearing a short sleeve shirt with ‘BTS’ on it, black shorts, and black sandals. His make-up-less face is too cute for me to handle.

“I hope it turned out good,” Taehyung hands me a food box. “I tried my hardest.”

“I bet it is great,” I open the food box, seeing an assortment of Korean food I’ve come to love.

Taehyung has the same food in a box in his lap. “Do you like Coke?”

“The soda? I do.”

He pulls two bottles of Coke Cola out of the basket, handing me one. “I also have water, if you want that.”

I twist the lid off my bottle, “I’m good for now.”

“You look really beautiful in that dress.” His tongue pops out and wets his lips in one go.

“Thank you,” I separate my chopsticks. “You look handsome, as always.”

“If you say so,” his cheeks redden.

“How about we try what you made? I grip my chopsticks before bringing some meat to my mouth. “Mmm, so good.”

“Good?” Taehyung smiles.

“Yes Tae, you made a good meal,” I giggle. “Even if I only took one bite.”

We eat without much talking, enjoying the time we get to spend together. Being together with the one you love doesn’t mean you have to always be talking. Words can’t express all I want to say about how I feel.

“Next time we can cook together,” I place my empty food box into the picnic basket. “Thank you for making that.”

“You’re welcome jagi,” Taehyung smiles, placing his food box and empty Coke bottle in the basket. “I like doing anything I can to make you smile.”

“I love you,” I smile, taking a sip of my Coke. The bottle now empty, I toss it into the basket.

“I love you,” Taehyung winks.

“Tapping into V there, Mr. Flirt,” I smirk.

He puts his legs straight out in front of him. “Are you saying I can’t flirt?”

I grab his feet, “I’m saying V is the part of yourself that is very sexy and flirty. Tae is your silly side. I love all of you.”

“It’s just Big Hit needs me to be like that. I can be like that for you.”

“You are Tae,” I push his legs apart. “I was teasing.” I crawl up to him, settling between his legs. “You know just which personality to use when with me.”

He grins, “Silly girl, teasing me.”

I cup his face with my hands. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Show you how sexy and manly I can be.”

Our lips crash together; teeth even clash in the heated kiss. His tongue invades my mouth, and I slowly push mine over into his mouth. Taehyung’s hands grip my waist, pulling me as close to him as possible.

A minute in and we have a rhythm of sorts going. We know when to part to give time to breath, and it feels so natural to be kissing like this. A little while later, Taehyung flips us, so my back is on the blanket and he’s hovering above me. His legs are on either sides of my legs, and his hands are toying with the bottom of my dress that has ridden up. My hands run up his chest, landing on his shoulders. I almost forget we are technically out in public, but I don’t want this to stop.

Taehyung’s mouth leaves mine, but the kisses don’t stop. He kisses across my cheek and down my jaw to my neck. Gently sucking to find that spot that will make me go crazy.

“Oppa,” I accidently moan out when he finds my sweet spot. It makes my face burst into heat as I understand what I said.

“I like that sound of that,” Taehyung’s voice is even deeper than normal. “I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.”

I struggle to open my eyes, seeing only Taehyung’s messy brown hair.

He sucks, nibbles, and licks my sweet spot, marking me as his.

My stomach flips, and my face heats up for the first time today.

Taehyung’s lips pull away from my neck. “Such a pretty mark I have left on you, jagiya.” He blows on my neck, making me shiver.

“Taehyung,” I pout. “Stop it.”

He lifts his head to look me in the eyes. “Sorry, forgot you are innocent,” he smirks.

“So are you,” I shove him. “I’m your first serious girlfriend.”

He falls to my side, lying on his back with me. “My first real girlfriend, so I am testing the waters.”

“Is that so?” I reach down and grab his hand.

He intertwines our fingers, “Yeah. I’ve been on dates with multiple girls. Kissed, hugged, danced, and cuddled. Not much else.”

“Really? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was a loser. You needed someone who knew all the ropes and could support you. I wanted to be the boy even if it wasn’t really true.”

“Did you think I was a loser since I was single my whole life?”

“No. You were so much younger, and needed to focus on school. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

I rest my head on his shoulder, “I’m okay. How do you know how to be so good at doing relationships if I’m your first?”

“Movies and anime. I watched so much romance stuff in the past months to get ready for when you came back.”

I giggle, “That is so cute.”

“I ask the other guys for advice too. Well, not Jungkook, he’s truly innocent.”

I push up onto my elbows, “He’s a cutie though. He’ll find someone. They all will.”

“I would hope so,” he looks over at me, a loving smile on his lips. “I love you, and that’s all that matters in this moment.”

I smile, “I like your sandals, by the way.”

“Really?” He sits straight up, and his smile is now more hopeful.

“Yes. Your toes are so cute,” I poke his cheek.

“Your toes are cute,” he giggles. “I was afraid you would think they were weird. The sandals, not my toes.”

“Not at all. Korea has a different style, and I accept that. I’m pretty open to a lot of things.”

“You really are the greatest.”

I fully sit up, “I try.”

“We’ve been out here for quite some time now.”

“It’s so nice. Getting away from the stresses of life and enjoying time as a couple.”

“There’s still one thing I want to talk about before we leave.”

“Marriage,” I tense up; my stomach threatens to show me the meal I just had.

“Ah, Amber, you just got really pale,” Taehyung reaches out and places a hand on my forehead.

“Just, give me a second,” I focus on my breathing.

Taehyung brings his hand away from my face. “No reason to be nervous. I’m happy, excited, you want to marry me. I want to marry you. I love you more than anyone!”

“Tae, I love you, with all my soul. Marriage is just a big step in a relationship, and I didn’t want to have us thinking about it too soon.”

“So, we don’t talk about it anymore for the time being. I just, I am going to marry you.”

I nod, “And I am going to marry you.”

He pulls me into him, “Today has been a great day. I’m glad I could spend so much time with you. I am happy I get to call you my girlfriend. One day, the whole world will know of our love. I can’t hide you forever.”

I giggle, snuggling into his chest. “I hope the fans accept me. Regardless, I will still want you as my boyfriend. I love you too much to let you go. I want more days like this. Spending time with you makes me happy beyond words.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hope you enjoyed reading! A long chapter because I felt like it, and because I feel it has been a while since the last chapter. I would love to know what you thought! :D

#BTS fanfic #BTS fan fiction #BTS x OC #BTS imagine #Jungkook x OC #Jungkook imagine #Taehyung x OC #Taehyung imagine #Jimin x OC #Jimin imagine #Namjoon x OC #Namjoon imagine #Hoseok x OC #Hoseok imagine #Yoongi x OC #Yoongi imagine #Seokjin x OC #Seokjin imagine #My OCs

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equalstrashflavoredtrash · 6 years

Text

A Foreign Tongue - 2

a/n: So you can thank @grungyblonde for this. I never really intended on writing a follow up, sure i had ideas bouncing around if i ever did continue, but then she kept telling me how much she loved it and i was re-inspired to write about the prince and the cook, so i hope you enjoy.

warnings: Explicit, very eager and consensual, no major warnings, like nothing too kinky. Also the cook is very chubby and that’s a thing that comes up a bunch.

Part 1

FF.net // Ao3 // Masterlist

Hvitserk X OFC // Vikings

word count: 3,040

“Tonight.”

That’s what he said to her in the kitchen, his hands holding her round, flour covered cheeks as he leaned forward to steal another kiss. He didn't care she couldn’t say his name, he still wanted her. Breaking the mood, one of his brothers called for him from down the hall. The prince looked over his shoulder at the door, then back to her.

“Tonight, during the feast,” he reiterated before he tore himself away, retreating to who ever had beckoned him.

She stood frozen on the spot, dreamily watching where he had been when she realized everything she’d have to do between now and Tonight. Grabbing a fresh log from the bucket, she went to stoke the fire, building the heat to cook the bread.

The afternoon passed in a haze as she prepared for the feast, trying not to let her mind wander off to fantasies of what Hvitserk may have planned.

“You seem happy,” Britt teased, leaning on the counter to watch as the cook sliced vegetables. “Is it something to do with a boy? Maybe a prince?”

“I do not know what you mean,” she responded, though notably avoiding the younger girl’s gaze.

“I think it i~is,” Britt dragged out the last word in a sing-song tone, bouncing around to tug on the cook’s sleeve. “Come on, tell me! Tell me what he said, I saw you kissing! Now tell me!”

“He said nothing for you to know.” Her statement was curt and finalizing, halting anymore of Britt’s childish bemoaning. “You are too young to understand.”

Britt rolled her eyes as she slumped onto the nearby stool. “That’s what everyone says,” she complained, looking down to pick at her nails as she continued in a high pitched, mocking voice, “You’re too young. You’ll understand when you’re older. That’s not for someone your age.”

The cook couldn’t help but laugh to herself, remember hearing the same comments. “You will be old soon, do not rush time.”

The young servant scoffed at the cook’s wisdom and decided to go find someone more entertaining to bother. With out the distraction she was able to work efficiently, having almost the entire meal prepped and ready to cook when it came time for the festivities to start.

Listening to the ruckus in the main hall, she watched the stove, making sure the leg of lamb seared evenly. Once done, she handed it off to the servants and began with the next dish. She knew there was no moment for rest, that once the following rack of ribs was finished roasting, the party-goers will have already devoured the former and be sitting, eager and waiting for more. Meaning she would have to immediately start plating the suckling pig that had been baking over an open flame all day as soon as possible. As the guests reveled, she fluttered around the kitchen, stirring the stew before hurrying to crank the rotisserie. While holding a hot loaf of bread with her apron, she whirled around to find the tall prince standing in the doorway.

“Too soon!” she yelped, dropping the bread onto the butcher block. Turning to search for a knife, she missed the way he cut across the floor in a few easy strides, coming to stand beside her.

“I know. I couldn’t wait,” Hvitserk explained with a shrug, trying to snake his long arms around her thick waist while his lips met her shoulder.

“No!” she shouted, tearing herself from his grasp. “I-I can not. Not now!” Shifting, she gestured wildly with the knife in her hand to the kitchen around her. “Later. Later, when there is no food. Ok? Then, then we may kiss.” The cook prayed he’d understand and though she felt bad watching his expression drop, she knew he got the message. Every part of her wanted to hold him and apologize but she could already smell the pork starting to burn and knew it needed another rotation. Hvitserk retreated, pausing in his exit to look back, watching the way she bent over the hearth to stir the bubbling stew.

Hours later, the cook sighed as she sat down, mopping at her brow. The fire in the stove was dwindling, baking the last loaf for tomorrow’s breakfast, but still its dim flickers lit the room. The shadows danced with the flames as she gazed absently at how it popped and sparked, letting her tired mind drift when a crash jolted her back to reality.

She hurried to her feet, searching the shaded corners of the kitchen for the disturbance when she spotted a dark mass. Bracing herself, she watched as the figure rose, not resting until the fire light revealed Hvitserk’s face.

“There’s no food,” he observed, scanning the counter with a smirk.

“There is no food,” the cook agreed with a giggle, reaching for him once he was close. Curling her fingers into his tunic, she drew him into her as their lips crashed together. She could taste the ale on his breath but that meant nothing, she knew even when sober he wanted her.

Breaking for air, the cook gasped, “No, not here,” as Hvitserk dove for her neck, leaving purple welts in the wake of his lips. “Not the kitchen,” she breathed as his fingers clenched one cheek of her bottom.

“My room,” he huffed, breaking contact with his lips and her skin long enough for him to bend over. With a quick and practiced maneuver, Hvitserk hoisted the cook on to his shoulder and made his way down the hall. She was beyond flustered, having not been carried since she was a small child. The cook yelped and hollered at him, ordering for the prince to set her down at once. He merely slapped her upturned ass and continued on his way.

Though it was her first time in his chambers, she had no chance to take in her surroundings. Once her feet touched the floor he was on her, his arms curled around her sides as his face nuzzled at her cheek, peppering kisses across her jaw. He moved quickly, fumbling with the ties of her apron as the cook tried to process in her mind everything that was happening.

She attempted to slow his motions, bringing his face to hers for a deep kiss but that seemed to only stoke the fire within, his touch becoming more frantic with every moment she remained fully dressed. Discarding his effort to undo the fastenings properly, Hvitserk gave a forceful yank to the collar, tearing the garment down the center. Letting the tattered wool fall freely off her shoulders, he pulled away to watch as more of her skin was slowly revealed.

Immediately her arms flew to cover her exposed chest, wavering under his hungry gaze. She could hear Hvitserk make a disapproving tsk before he pecked her blushing cheek.

Using a more gentle and patient touch, he slid his warm palms along her forearms, bringing his fingers to rest on her wrists while his thumbs rubbed her knuckles. “Let me see you,” the prince hummed into her ear, giving a soft but eager nip with his teeth. “Please, I want to see you.”

She hesitated for a moment until she saw his smile. Lowering her arms, the cook took in the way his expression deepen, a pleased grin unconsciously pulling at his cheeks. She watched how he licked his bottom lip as he cautiously cupped her right breast in his hand. At first contact she let out a sharp gasp, then whimpered when the calluses of his palm scraped at her hard nipple, as he covered the other with his opposite hand. His grasp was firm but not painful, the supple flesh spilling over between his fingers as he slowly squeezed and massaged her.

With every inch of contact she felt sparks under her skin, burning as they coursed through her, which only served to emphasize the throb in her vulva. She had never felt an excitement quite like this, even during the moments late at night when she allowed her hand to travel between her thighs as she imagined it was his. This was different, almost a hundred percent more visceral, more intense, and more addictive.

Raising his chin, he connected with her gaze, trying to read without words that she was enjoying his touch. He found confidence in her dazed expression, relishing at the glassly look of her eyes and the way her kiss-swollen lips hung, every so slightly agape. Arching towards her, he brought his face close enough their noses brushed and asked, “I want to take off your dress, may I?”

The cook paused, anxious at his request. She moved to raise her hands again—just as she had earlier—when he caught her wrists. Hvitserk held her arms in place and spoke cautiously, “I want to see you, all of you. I want to know all of you. Don’t be nervous.” Capturing her bottom lip, he slid his arms around her wide middle and pulled her flush against him. He gave an internal moan at the way every inch of her soft belly and breasts cushioned against his torso as her small hands clung to his biceps.

He groped what he could of her ass, drawing her close as possible before pivoting to deposit her body onto his bed. She landed on her back with an ‘oof’ as he fisted at her skirt, dragging the wool over her broad hips. She lifted her bottom, allowing him to completely remove the garment, but kept her knees pressed together so her thighs were clamped tight, concealing everything but her triangle of curly hair. The cook awkwardly waved her hands, unsure where to keep them as he continued stripping off her stockings and boots. Eventually her palms came to rest across her breast again as she watched him make fast work of removing his clothes, hastily tugging at the fabric as if wearing it caused him pain.

Once he was nude she found herself too distracted by his growing erection to recognize the sour frown that crossed his features as he saw that her hands were once again raised, shielding her from him. Climbing to lay next to the cook, the prince let his fingers wander, gently ghosting over her curves and rolls as he acquainted himself. She giggled and shifted when his touch tickled her sides, exciting him with her slight noises. Carefully he brought his hands up to hers, gently urging her fingers to lace with his, directing her arms to lay flat on the bed at either side of her head.

He began kissing her lips, feeling the way her composure relaxed against him, while traveling across her collar bone. He nipped at the soft skin, leaving a cool trail as he searched for her nipple. Freeing one hand, he gathered her breast, lifting it so that he could envelope her peak with his mouth. His tongue toyed with the small nub, batting back and forth as she squirmed. Releasing with a pop he sat up, letting out a low groan as he continued to pay sole attention to her chest, “Your tits are glorious.”

“Glow-ree-os?” she asked, furrowing her brow as she tried to repeat the word. “This means?”

Hvitserk smirked, feeling himself twitch at both her accent and naiveté. “Glorious, like wonderful,” he began, openly mouthing at her skin as he lifted her tits to meet his lips, “or amazing, fantastic.” Giving a quick squeeze, he brought his left hand down to mimic his right. He brought her tits together, holding them tight as he buried his face into her cleavage. She could hear him continue to speak, his voice muffled while listing off synonyms, though she was confident she now understood.

Pulling back, the prince drew deep breaths, pivoting to rest beside her. Repeating his practiced gentle touch, he stroked her thighs, running his palms from knee to hip. With each pass he increased the pressure as he brought his fingers closer to her middle, easing her legs apart. There was a slice of his consciousness that wanted to wrench her knees onto the bed so he could finally feel her, but he knew that wouldn’t help, so he fought his urges—being patient for her.

The cook’s resistance melted with his careful ministrations, allowing her knees to fall open for him. He shifted, scooting closer as he braced himself on one arm. Lowering to join their lips again, he pressed his fingers against her mound. Growing nervous, she began to shift—still unsure of what to do—when Hvitserk broke away.

“I want you to be a good girl for me,” he hummed, his nose tickling at her cheek. “I want you to keep your arms on the bed, keep them where they were, next to your head. Can you do that for me? Will you be my good girl?” Ducking her chin, she gave a slight but affirmative nod and lifted her wrists to lay flat on the pillow beside her ears.

Once the question of what to do with her hands was taken away from her, all the cook had to focus on was the prince. The prince and the way his skin felt against hers, the nudge of something stiff she felt on her inner thigh, the way it felt when his fingers delved into her lips, rolling at the sensitive little nub the cook previously believed only she knew of. She couldn’t hold back her moans, arching as he pressed the pad of his finger flat. Fisting at the furs underneath her, the cook fought to keep her hands in place as he had requested.

Hvitserk could barely contain himself as he watched the way she squirmed under his touch. He brushed at her center, testing how wet she was before spitting into his hand. With a confident stroke he spread the saliva over his length, lining himself up. The cook was taken by surprised as he hooked his elbow under her left knee, lifting her entire leg to better the vantage point and sink his cock into her waiting warmth. Keeping one hand planted next to her head—the other holding her thigh—Hvitserk began to thrust, his mouth agape as he watched the way her breasts bounced on impact. He was settling into the motions when she began pushing back at his shoulders.

“Stop, stop!” she panted, as Hvitserk receded. “No air.” As she gestured to how he held her, and the prince seemed to understand, tugging at her waist.

“On your knees,” he suggested, guiding her to roll over. She braced herself on all fours as Hvitserk smoothed his hand down her spine, urging her to lay her head on the mattress. He reveled for a moment, enjoying the view of her ass stuck up in the air just for him, tempted to slap her just so he could see the jiggle.

Holding his straining cock, he rubbed the head along her slit, gliding it between her pillowy lips before finding his goal. With an easy plunge he began to work himself inside, egged on by her soft moans. Using a careful back and forth he was able to fit his head past her tight entrance. He paused, taking in the way she squeezed him and then slowly sinking as far as he could until his hips met her ass.

Hvitserk could hear her mewling below him, reacting to the intrusion but not opposing it. His slid his palm across her back as he lower his head. “You’re doing so good,” he groaned into her ear as she gasped at the feeling of him grinding into her. “I’m trying to be gentle, but it’s hard,” he rasped, using all his might to hold back.

“Uh-huh,” she mumbled, pushing her hips back into his. “Do this, please,” she breathed giving him the prompting he needed.

At her word he let himself go, digging his fingers into her waist to hold her in place as he drove into her, chasing his drunken id. He could hear her words—they started out in his language but as he carried on, she drifted further from what he could understand. Giving a shake of his head, Hvitserk stopped caring for the meaning of her words, and paid attention only to the tone.

Jutting his hips forward, his skin clapping hard against her ass, he hoped he could bring her to climax before himself, but with every passing thrust that seemed less likely. He was entranced with the way her body reacted, reveling in the way her flesh rippled on impact. Every thrust he made felt so much more important as he watched how her body flowed with his movements. With each strike of his hips against hers he studied how she responded beyond the slight sounds that left her mouth.

The cook felt the coil in her belly begin to tighten with each stroke until the building tension finally snapped. Hvitserk continued without a care, driving his hips into hers as she cried out. “Ha-vet-sick!” she called, unconsciously rearing away from him and the stimuli he brought as the orgasm washed over her. He pounded forward, letting his hips snap autonomously, only caring for the moans that left the cooks mouth. Though he realized he was holding her down so that her face was pressed into the bed, she still cooed from below him, submitting to his will.

With a deep growl, Hvitserk chased his release, spurting ropes of cum deep into her cunt as he pinned her against mattress. He stuttered and groaned, coming within her before finally relaxing and falling to the side fully expended.

She rolled over, laying in a more comfortable position, giving the prince a shy smile. Hvitserk was still catching his breath as he watched the way she bit her lip, her eyes relaxed and content. He couldn’t help himself as he leaned in to cup her cheek, drawing her closer for a slow kiss.

The prince pulled back slightly, freeing his mouth to speak while staying close enough his lips brushed hers as he did so. “Can’t imagine I’m saying this, but I’ve never been so happy there was no food in the kitchen.”

I hope you liked it! please tell me what thought!!!

@beautifulramblingbrains @ariwolf14 @titty-teetee @whenimaunicorn@sweetvengeancee @ivarinleatherpants @tiyetiye @romanchronicles @oddsnendsfanfic @murmelinchen @buckybarnesisalittleshit@laketaj24 @ivarslittlebadgirl @readsalot73 @imgoldielikehawn@ivarsshieldmadien @ceridwenofwales @grungyblonde @honestsycrets @lisinfleur [[if you want to be tagged for vikings stuff in the future, leave a reply]

#hvitserk imagine #hvitserk #hvitserk x ofc #hvitserk x reader #vikings #my writing

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everlarkficexchange · 6 years

Text

The Pack

Written by: @alliswell21

Rating: Currently General. Future Explicit. This fic will have at least one more chapter, that will most likely be continued over at AO3.

Prompt 28: The majority of the district are werewolves but it’s forbidden to speak out loud about it. Katniss and Peeta are mates. (Follow real wolves traits; packs, behaviors, mates, knotting, in heat) [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Warnings: Vague descriptions of injury. Werewolves. In Panem AU. No Games.

Summary: Everlark meets after a very bumpy night.

Acknowledgements: @savvylark thank you for lending me your beta magic again… I love your comments! @everlarkingjoshifer, Your banner is just amazing! thank you so much for making it and all the other ones I didn’t use… you should post them :). @animekpopxx, you have an extraordinarily beautiful brain, churning up all this awesome prompts! hopefully you like this one too! @xerxia31, thanks for nudging me into the right direction, you have no idea how much it meant to me that you thought I could do the prompt justice! Also @xerxia31 and @javistg for organizing EFE, I’m having the time of my life reading the wonderful fics around.

>*+*<

Nobody knows how the epidemic started.

There are theories, of course, that the Capitol released an infected mutt in the wilderness that somehow came in contact with a district dweller ages ago. The infection spread like wildfire before anyone could do a thing about it.

No one speaks of it openly.

It’s taboo to bring it up in conversation; but every lunar cycle, our bodies go through a painful shift, lending us a lupine form for the duration of the full moon.

The cycle begins tonight.

The pack follows the arch of the moon, crawling across the sky, full and bright. Our swift legs lead us up a well-known worn path until we reach the highest point of the hillside.

My father, being one of the elders, howls a sonorous, almost musical call that rest of the pack responds with yips, yelps and woofs.

Wolves come from all sides of the woods to merge in a circle, hopping, strutting and dancing under the moon that bathes everything as far as the eye can see in light. But the excitement only lasts a few minutes. We only have a handful of hours before sunrise and a whole district to feed.

In a matter of minutes we divide in groups and disperse back into the wilderness to hunt. The voracious hunger pressing in our bellies spurs us to find prey we can only hunt tonight, while we have the strength and drive of the wolf on our side.

This season we will comb and explore the eastern ridge of the hillside and the woods beyond, leaving the rest of the forest untouched. This is how we can guarantee the preservation and population size of our food sources.

As my father always says, “No sense running amok like we’re only instinctive, mindless beasts consuming every living creature in the woods. That’ll just kill our livelihood, then where would we be? As long as you respect other creatures‘ right to live, Mother Nature will provide for you, Katniss.”

This wisdom has helped us endure even the harshest times, when prey is scarce and food is down to slim pickings.

My father howls again, but this time the call is just for me. My name is Katniss Everdeen, I’m 13 years old, and I’m hunting down a rabbit for supper; but I’m still learning the ropes. Tracking, foraging, chasing, flushing out my marks have been all easy, what the elders call “the makings of a good hunter,” but my father doesn’t want me to be just “good.” He wants me to be “heck darn exceptional.”

So besides the basics of hunting, father wants me learn patience, respect and ‘foresight.’ I’m not completely sure what the last means, but I guess is important because he talks of it an awful lot when we hunt during the day… He’s also teaching me to hunt during daytime, with weapons and tools so we have fresh meat even when the moon isn’t full.

Everyone in the district has two jobs, one we do for the Capitol while the sun shines: mining coal, tending crops or cattle, making fabrics, or tinkering with machines, anything the Capitol people need to live, we work for; then there’s our other job, the one that truly matters for our survival. We do it during the full moon when our bodies stop being people bodies, and we walk on four legs and furry paws.

My job is to hunt, just like my father before me and his father before him. We all feel the same quickening of the blood, the euphoria that takes over our senses and all that matters is the chase and catch. The only word I can describe it as is exciting. But father wants me to keep my head when the animal takes over my body. He says that our minds are still ours whatever we look on the outside, so he’s teaching me and other youngsters to hunt in the right mindset.

That’s his job I guess, to make sure we are still ourselves in our heads while we are physically different.

My father grunts when I return. I’m anxiously pacing in front of him, because my bunny could be very well gone by now, but he commands me to sit for a moment, attempting to explain through snorts and growling yawns something about keeping my distance and sniff out the air for other predators, but I’m growing impatient.

We are the top of the food chain during the full moon, maybe this lesson applies during daylight hunting, but right now my rabbit hops from under the brush and I take off without heeding my father’s calls.

I’ve frighten the rabbit in my haste. I see it jump into a bush and makes a dash beyond what I assume to be its burrow, so I take a big leap after it.

As a hunter, I’m built with long, strong hind legs that end in elongated paws with short, flexible toes sort of like human feet, except I have retractable claws for toenails. I’m slim and nimble, and I can easily clear the bush obstructing my way in one jump, but the terrain on the other side is basically a crumbling slope. I can’t stop myself from sliding to the bottom of the hill.

When I’m sure footed on a grassy patch of earth, I shake myself of dust and twigs and other debris. I can hear my father at the top of the hill barking at me to get back up the hill. I scan the drop for a path up, and notice a bunch of openings on the side of the mountain on the far side. I’m not stupid. Father has told me to stay away from caves unless I’m with an adult, and a scout has given it a looksy first.

I plan to give it a wide berth. I’ve filled my quota of recklessness for the day. I’ll be a good, obedient girl for the rest of the night.

My father it’s getting impatient at the top of the hill. I think he’s started to look for a way down, and I see the heads of the rest of our hunting party pop one by one over the edge.

This is humiliating!

I start climbing up, but the dirt under my paws is loose and I slide back down. I try again with the same results, and then I fall on my bottom so hard that I have to sit and whimper for a moment.

But my foolish noise called attention to myself.

My party above began calling, howling and crying in order to warn me of the danger; as if I couldn’t smell the foul best myself! I’m just surprised at how fast everything happened.

One second I’m on my ass whimpering, the next there’s a gigantic, angry bear charging me. I’m bigger that the average wolf, but I’m still a juvenile lycanthrope, I couldn’t fight a fully grown bear on my own, but I don’t have to! My first reaction is to cower by the rocky wall, close my eyes and wait to be mauled, but I hear the loud, heavy thud of a body landing in front of me.

I’m not quite sure who it is. I don’t recognize his smell, but it is pleasant even for a werewolf: cinnamon and dill over fur. I think if this is the last thing I smell before dying, it’s okay.

I crack one eye open, and see my savior fighting the bear. I’m completely shocked to see another juvenile, no larger than myself, but he’s vicious, strong and fast.

They go at each other, full body slams, teeth and fangs sinking on thick fur, sharp claws looking to tear chunks of skin and flesh. My young kin gains the upper paw suddenly, jumping over a boulder and throwing his full weight on the back of the bear. He takes a bite of the brutes hide, and shakes his head violently, causing the bear to growl in pain. Then the bear swings an arm backwards, and catches the wolf’s leg and throws him off with little effort.

The young wolf yelps in pain, smacking onto a jagged rock and the beast rushes to finish him off, but out of nowhere a second wolf jumps between them. This one I recognize immediately. It’s my father!

He bares his big, sharp teeth accompanied by the low rumbling of his growl. The bear stops for a moment, studies this new challenger, and charges with renewed fury. My father dodges the attack easily, and draws the fight away from me and the other wolf, who is still trying to find his footing on the ground.

I’m watching with horror frozen to my spot. My father is definitely larger than me and the other juvenile, but he’s a hunter, not a protector. His body is built for chasing and stalking, not for fighting off threats. The bear could still cause him major damage if he’s not careful, but father is smart and more agile than his agresor and soon he’s backed the beast a few feet away, back into the thick of the woods.

I seek our chance.

I approach my rescuer and nudge his side with my nose. He snaps a bite before realizing I’m friendly. He tries to follow me but after two steps he collapses heavily. He tries to stand up once more, but barks in pain and falls under his weight. His leg is badly hurt.

I go back to him, wiggle my body under his front legs and try to help him up, but I was wrong about us being roughly the same size. He’s bigger and heavier than I am. I can’t see him very well from this angle, so I’m not sure if he belongs with the group of hunters or not.

Every individual in the pack has a specialized job, and each of us belong to subgroup with a particular task. We have hunters, scouts, protectors, nannies and pups. Compared to common wolves, our ranks are very differently organized. We don’t have just one overall Alpha we have submit to, but a Council of Elders that decide together what’s best for the pack.

Maybe my benefactor was just a trainee patrolling the hunting grounds, though that seems unlikely. Neither protectors nor scouts send juveniles out to patrol on their own.

A more likely situation could be that he is a rover.

Sometimes when young wolves comes from human parents they don’t immediately know where they belong, neither what are their strengths or abilities, so they rotate around each group to test themselves until they find where they fit. Could this be the case with this guy? I’m not sure, all I know is that he did something for me tonight I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay him for.

My rescuer and I take one tentative step forward, but I realize pretty quickly that this arrangement won’t work. My fellow wolf is too heavy for me. I let him hop off me, and I run to the foot of the hill. I whine at the ones up top, and to my surprise I see adults pacing the edge. One of them produces an aggravated bark that sends all the youngsters backwards.

A moment later, the same wolf descends down a narrow trail of rocks I hadn’t noticed before. He doesn’t acknowledge me, going straight to the hurt wolf. The bigger wolf head butts the younger one, until the latter stands, and then does something similar to what I did by getting under the other wolf’s chest, except he successfully lifts him up completely off the ground.

The younger one protests, but he’s so weak that his eyes aren’t even open. The newcomer snorts with annoyance and glares at me. He grunts ordering me to follow.

I try to lag behind. I haven’t seen or heard my father since pushing the fight deeper into the woods, but the wolf turns around and snaps at my tail, leaving me no choice but to pick up my pace.

Because of his impatient demeanor, I assume this is none other than Haymitch Abernathy.

Even as a man, Haymitch is a contrary one, but everyone puts up with his confrontational personality, because he’s really smart and practical.

He snaps at me again, I think he’s just sour about having to haul such a heavy burden up a hill. My father is a few human years older than Haymitch, but he’s undoubtedly in better physical shape than the snarky man.

I’m starting to get aggravated myself.

We trudge all the way up, and meet a whole group of protectors, ready to leap down and search for my father. But suddenly, one of the young hunters howls, jumps and chases his tail.

We all look below, and see my father trotting back with my stupid rabbit hanging from his mouth.

The rest of the wolves copy the first one, celebrating my father’s return, with a prize to boot, regardless of how scrawny the prey.

A scout crashes through the brush, and comes to a short stop just as Haymitch is setting the now unconscious young wolf on the ground. The scout seems agitated. He circles the youngster, and I discern similar scents from him. Looking closer at the scout, I can tell he’s only just a bit older than my rescuer. I reckon they must be siblings.

My father reaches the summit, and stops in front of me, dropping his kill at my feet. I look at him, but his big round lupine eyes are full of reproach, so I drop on my belly and coward away a little when his warm breath reaches my face. He makes a nagging noise before giving me a punishing nip at my ears.

Father steps away from me, and goes to the brothers.

The scout is nuzzling his snout into his brother’s neck, whining and purring.

The biggest wolf in the pack, a fellow named Thom, steps forward. They help position the unconscious wolf on his back, and in a blink of an eye, he’s gone, running towards the district. Father motions me to follow.

I’m not stupid enough to question him this time. I do as he says and jog after the other wolf with my head down and my tail tucked between my legs.

We are not supposed to be inside the district fence while in wolf form, but on the rare occasion there’s a medical emergency we sneak in, as stealthy as we can.

We encounter one of the few unfortunate peacekeepers on watch during the full moon. They usually hate it, but they still have to patrol the district for the humans left behind. Luckily it’s been ages since any of them has been harmed by one of us. We’ve learn to control our mind over our animalistic urges. For the most part we are friendly to humans, but our appearance is still very unnerving to behold.

Long pointy teeth, razor sharp claws, and some of us can be as big as buck. I’d be scared to death too if I encountered myself out roaming the street in the dark.

“Who goes there?” The Peacekeeper calls, he certainly doesn’t sound as shaky as our usual fare. “There’s a curfew in place! Go back to your house!” He says again.

The wolf carrying the sick one steps forward from under the cover of shadows we’ve been walking in. The adult growls lowly, showing cruel, long, slobber dripping fangs. I think he’s going for menacing.

The peacekeeper lifts his visor off, and arches a reddish eyebrow above a green, unimpressed eye.

I breathe easier. It’s just Darius.

“Thom, I know it’s you, so cut it out with the dramatics and get on to wherever you’re going. Just stop trying to sneak up on me, would ya? These shotguns aren’t harmless props, you know.” Darius chastises my companion patting his gun.

I can’t believe the blasted idiot starts wagging his tail at Darius all friendly like. I grunt at the older wolf, we’re supposed to be on a mission!

After settling back, we take off in the direction of my house. In a few minutes, we are at my porch. I climb the steps and start scratching at the door.

My mother comes forth with a heavy bottom frying pan held aloft. I stumble back startled, stepping on Thom’s foot, causing him to grunt in pain.

“Katniss?” My Mother whispers in surprise. “Are you hurt?” She steps out of the house throwing caution to the winds.

I deny it as best I can without spoken language, but she’s already noticed my companions. She steps aside and let’s us inside the house. She hurries to the small bed I share with my sister, and picks up the bundle I know to be a sleeping Prim she goes into her own room. She deposits my sister in her bed and draws the curtains closed.

Sure, a curtain isn’t even a credible defense in case of an attack, but it’s easier to pull as a barrier, that climbing into the cellar with a sleeping child in her arms.

I sit in front of the curtain, facing the room, protecting my little sister. One can’t be too careful around hurt, unconscious wolves. There’s no telling what they’ll be like once they wake up in pain and disoriented.

“What’s wrong with him?” Mother asks when Thom places her newest patient on the kitchen table.

Thom makes a series of noises, but my mother waves him off curtly.

“Never mind. I’ll asses his injuries right now, and get the whole story in the morning.” She sighs. “If you’re needed back in the woods, I think we are all set here. Please let the elders know the patient is in my care, and Katniss will stay to help.”

My head shots up. I groan. I hate healing duties! I can’t stand people’s pain, let alone seeing their blood, or worse yet, watching my mother cleaning and dressing them up.

Mother gives me a pointed look that shuts me up right away. I’m a lycanthrope, but I still shiver at a stern glance from my human mommy.

Nobody knows how the affliction works. The gene seems to get passed down arbitrarily, regardless of gender or generation. My mother came from unaffected parents, that yielded two children, one with “the lupine illness,” as some people call it, and the other one, herself, unaffected.

To her parents chagrin, mother married father, a werewolf, and father gave her two children, me: a werewolf, and Primrose: a human.

The Capitol pretends to be unaware of the condition, yet they officially forbid discussing, or even mentioning the “illness.” Looking for cures is out of the question, though it is easier to count the unaffected than it is to put a number on our kind’s population. A few brave souls still try to figure out how to combat the gene, because wouldn’t it be something if we could stop the morphing from happening? If we didn’t pass down the curse to our younglings?

My mother sets to work just as Thom steals back into the darkness outside. I whine quietly, watching the door with longing, but my mother puts me to work right away. I have to fetch stuff for her all over the place, which isn’t that bad; at least I don’t have to see her poking the poor guy’s leg and mopping clean the gashes left by the bear’s claws on his thigh.

It looks painful and raw, the tiny bit I accidentally saw.

She sends me outside to get water from the well, and I’m grateful of the remarked differences between my kind and that of a regular wolf.

We can walk erected, on hind legs, if necessary. Our hind paws work like human feet, elongated and flat. Our front paws are more akin to the animal’s paws, rounded and with very sharp claws, but we actually do have nubs that work similarly to opposing thumbs. We can’t grab things, but we can manipulate things easier.

I bring the water quickly. The moon is already descending, soon the sun will start to crest, and the pack will return home carrying the bounty of the wilderness beyond the district fence. I huff. I wish I was there.

I walk back into the house, and my mother thanks me for the water.

After a few minutes I peek around her shoulder, and noticed a neat row of stitches, replacing the open wounds on the wolf’s leg and part of his side.

Mother notices. “He’s got a few broken fingers in the right hand. But I’ll have to wait until he’s back to human form to set them.”

I sneeze a disgusted snort.

Mother just shakes her head. “Go to sleep, Katniss. You may as well rest before your father comes back to deal with whatever you did.”

My eyes widen in surprise and I just stare at her.

“What? You didn’t think I’d figure out your father sent you home as a punishment?” She says with a smug knowing tone, then she chuckles.

“Sweetie, your father has been looking forward to teaching you everything he knows ever since your first turning. He wouldn’t have sent you home, unless you’ve done something very irresponsible or reckless.”

Her light blue eyes soften, “Katniss,” she combs back the hair of my head, “Your father does what he does, because he loves you, and wants you to be—“

“Heck darn exceptional…”

Of course, instead of words, what came out of my snout when I attempted to finish the sentence was just a long string of canine sounds, incomprehensible to any ear except mine, but mother nods, seemingly understanding my meaning.

“Off to rest. I’ll watch over the boy, until the rest of the pack returns.”

I could’ve hop on my bed and go to sleep there, but being in bed without Prim just feels weird. So I strut back to the curtain hiding my parents sleeping corner, circle around an old threadbare rug that sits right under my parents bed and drop on it like one of those donuts the baker sells some times.

Sleep must’ve taken me immediately, because I come to in my bed, fully human, to whispered voices. This really hasn’t happen to me in over a year. Children with the illness, turn to wolves around their tenth human birthday. They’re considered pups, and have to stay with nannies that watch them, feed them and calm them down if they come from non-wolf parents until they’re 12 and physically mature enough to venture into the woods with the pack.

After that, every wolf has to find their vocation. That’s how everyone finds their place in the pack.

Some people figure out what they are good at easier than others, our bodies adapt to our jobs, and develop accordingly, wherever our strengths and skills are needed.

Scouts have to be swift and extra perceptive, they tend to be smaller and lankier, but they have the sharpest eyesight and can hear and sense things before anyone else does. Protectors are bulkier and heavyset, with claws as sharp and strong as iron blades, their paws are bigger than any wolves, and their teeth can pierce through wood if necessary. A protector’s skin is thickest of all of us. They’re though and big. Nannies are usually female, with the warmest coats and no-nonsense attitudes. Pups are just small versions of a normal wolf. They’re cuddly and playful. And I’ve already talked about myself as a hunter.

My mother has always said that good manners set people apart from the animals… even if one turns into a wolf on occasion. So I debate staying in bed and pretend I’m asleep, or eavesdrop on the conversation, because I’m awake enough to know that my parents are talking about me.

“She did what?” My mother raises her voice, and father shushes her, pulling her out into the porch.

I only hear him say, “Calm down, I took care of it—“

“That boy got hurt because of h—“

The door clicks shut and my breathing picks up, while my heart rattles frantically in my chest.

“It ain’t your fault, you know. At least, I don’t blame you.” The voice speaking is soft and quiet. It comes from the kitchen table.

“You’re awake?” I ask stupidly.

‘Of course he’s awake! How else would he have told you he didn’t blame you?’ I yell at myself.

“Well… yeah. I know you’re awake too and you heard your folks talking about the bear last night.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He reiterates after a second of deep silence.

I roll my eyes, because he’s being naively kind.

“It too was my fault. I went after that stupid bunny and fell right into the bear’s territory. Some hunter I am.” I grouse.

“Well… when you put it that way…” he chuckles. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll come up with something.”

I crack a smile at the ceiling, laying on my back.

I guess this boy ain’t half bad.

Finally, I sit up on the bed, braiding my long, dark hair for the day.

“So, how you feeling?” I grimace, shoving my feet into my boots. I’m wearing a tattered nightgown older than time itself, but who cares? It’s not like I’m about to meet the love of my life or anything.

The boy answers with a yawn, “I’m a bit sore, but it’s nothing I haven’t felt before.”

He sounds so nonchalant, it tickles me.

“So you make a habit of fighting wild bears then?” I laugh at my own joke, but I’m taken aback when his answer comes quietly, like it’s a secret. Or a confession rather.

“No�� just my mother.”

I swear, every hair in my body prickles.

This whole time I’ve been facing the wall, while making myself presentable, but I turn to see the boy.

He’s laid on his back on the table, his clasped hands rest on his stomach, his face is placidly calm as he stares at the ceiling as well. If it wasn’t for his bare feet twiddling nervously, I would say he was relaxed and untroubled. I notice his mop of curly, blonde hair is damp, a couple of sweat droplets form on his forehead.

I may be wrong, but I think this boy belongs to the baker.

So, he does come from non-wolf parents.

“Mmm… I’m Katniss,” I say, meekly. Taking a tentative step towards him.

“I know.” He says in that same, nonchalant tone, that I peg for fake.

“Oh…” I don’t know what to say for a moment. “Mmm… and you?” I’m a foot away from the table now, I can see his chest heave and fall with every breath he takes.

“I’m Peeta.” He says quietly. “Peeta Mellark.”

He finally turns to face me, and when his incredibly blue eyes collide with mine, it’s like an explosion goes off.

The whole world spins. Time stops and all the colors in the universe turn gray, except for the blue of his eyes.

I vaguely remember how just a minute ago I was sure I wasn’t about to meet the love of my life. Well, joke’s on me! Though I have nothing to compare this feeling with, I’m pretty sure I just imprinted on Peeta Mellark.

Which means: I just met my mate for life, and I’m wearing a ratty sleep dress, older than time itself.

To be continued…

>*+*<

#Springtime Edition 2018 #alliswell21 #animekpopxx #prompt 28 #submission

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