skinny love was so fcking tragic. just thinking about the aftermath. poor reader having to deal with the questioning. people thinking she knew the whole time. his audience antagonizing her while he is in jail. meanwhile her entire worldview has been shattered. i wonder what she felt when bats showed up?
the fallout
Summary: What goes up must come down.
Pairings: Edward Nashton x reader; Bruce Wayne x reader
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: Past non-con and kidnapping
A/N: i loved this ask so much i decided to write a little something something. thanks for all the love! <3
You sat on a cold metal chair in an interrogation room, shivering despite the heavy blanket wrapped around you. There were three pairs of eyes on you: Chief Bock's angry ones as he paced back and forth; Lieutenant Gordon's pitiful gaze from where he stood across the table; and the hard stare coming from the shadow in the corner, his eyes glowing in the dark.
Not to mention how many morbidly curious officers were probably observing you through the one way glass, which you could imagine there being quite a lot.
"You were trapped in there for days!" Chief Bock ranted, as if you didn't already know that. "How can you not know what he's planning?"
"I-I don't know anything, I swear," you stuttered, struggling to form each word like your tongue was swollen. "I can't remember."
That was a lie. Not that you didn't know anything, but that you couldn't remember. You could remember every single thing he did to you while in captivity in excruciating detail.
He kept you tied up in the corner while he worked, duct tape binding your hands and feet and a piece over your mouth. Bathroom breaks were rare, and you didn’t bathe the whole time. You'd lay on the floor for hours on end, panting and drenched in sweat, your mouth going dry. You'd tried to scream at first, but that proved to be pointless, and your resolve wore out pretty quickly.
The only time he took the duct tape off your mouth was when he would feed you or make you drink. He never took it off your wrists or ankles, not even when he had his way with you, like you were just another toy or puzzle he'd fiddled with back in the orphanage in his spare time to keep his mind occupied before eventually returning to his work.
The worst part was when he'd tried to engage you in something normal, like a board game or a book. It reminded you just how far he'd fallen, a shell of the man he'd once been. Or at least the one you had thought he was.
Bock slammed his hands down on the table, rattling the cup of coffee Gordon had set down for you and hadn’t been touched since. “Tell us what his next step is!”
You squeezed your eyes shut, shrinking in on yourself. “I don’t know!” you squeaked.
“Back off, Bock,” Gordon hissed.
The chief turned to him. “We need to get one step ahead of him if we want to stop whatever it is he has in store. She’s the only lead we have so far.”
Your gaze switched back and forth between them like you were spectating a tennis match. You didn’t understand how the hunt could still be going. You’d thought it would all be over once he was behind bars. What a fool you were to think he’d let himself be caught without sowing the seeds of destruction first.
“You’re being too hard on her,” Gordon insisted.
“Don’t you think it’s a little convenient she was left behind for us to find?” Bock gestured to you. “For all we know, she’s in on it and just here to keep us distracted!”
“She’s not,” a gruff voice spoke up from the corner. All eyes turned to him, but his remained firmly fixed on you. Gordon’s empathy and Bock’s rage (though his was much more quiet) were both there in his stare, but there was also something haunted about the way he looked at you, like seeing you reminded him of something he’d rather forget.
Gordon cleared his throat. “I think she’s had enough for the day.” He leaned toward you. “Is there anyone I can call?”
You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Your mind raced, but not a single name came to mind. You didn’t have anyone, not anymore. A sob started to rise in the back of your throat.
“I’ll take her,” the voice said again. The shadow stepped forward, the thick soles of his boots thudding against the floor. “Let’s go.”
Bock shot Gordon an incredulous look, as if asking if this was allowed. Gordon just shrugged.
You stood up, the legs of your chair screeching against the floor as it was pushed back. “Okay,” you murmured. You suddenly felt small next to his imposing, hulking form.
He led you out of the precinct, ignoring the bizarre looks from officers as he passed. It was hard to keep up with his long strides. He clearly knew his way around the place. He must’ve been there many times before.
You hid behind him like a child cowering behind their parent. After being confined for so long, being amongst people again felt surreal, like you were dreaming. Even the fluorescent lights of the precinct felt too bright for your eyes, and you squinted as they nearly blinded you. Part of you wondered if you were still locked in that godforsaken apartment, and this was all some elaborate hallucination your brain had concocted as a way to escape the torture you endured.
“They’ll want you to talk to him.” That deep voice broke you out of your trance.
You looked up at him. “What?”
“The GCPD will want to use you as bait, get you to talk to him at Arkham and lure out whatever he’s hiding.” He seemed to avoid your gaze, staring straight ahead as he spoke smoothly and evenly. “They’ll try to convince you it’s to get closure, but they’ll have ulterior motives for doing so.”
You furrowed your brow. You wondered how he could know all this, but he spoke with such certainty, what he was saying must be true. You figured he was used to thinking ten steps ahead of everyone else. He was much more accustomed to operating in this world than you were.
You bit your lip. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” On one hand, it would be satisfying to finally confront him on a level playing field, make him listen to everything you had to say (which was a lot). On the other, seeing him again so soon might stir up some emotions you’d rather suppress for now (and save for whatever poor therapist you end up seeing about all this). Plus, you weren’t too fond of the idea of being a puppet for the police department.
“Then I’ll put my foot down.” He glanced at you just for a moment, and his piercing gaze made your breath hitch in your throat. “But if you decide to go, I’ll be with you the whole time.”
To protect you. He didn’t have to say it. You could hear it all on your own. You didn’t understand why he was being so nice to you. After everything you’d undergone, his generosity had you on edge. “Thank you,” you murmured, staring at the grout lines in the tile floor.
He didn’t respond, which you didn’t mind. You traipsed after him in a daze. Your head was all over the place, like your brain had been reduced to mush, or scrambled eggs. A memory comes to you then, unbidden: you and him in your apartment, early morning light streaming through the sheer curtains, laughing as you make omelets in the kitchen for the first time. You crack an egg over his head. He pretends to grumble as he washes his hair in the sink, but his smile gives him away.
The memory is quickly replaced with another that pops in your mind, taking up all the space: him hovering over you, smiling as he tears you apart from the inside out.
You didn’t realize you’d stopped walking until the man you were following stood right in front of you. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft, barely louder than a hushed whisper. His tone wasn’t demanding or annoyed as you expected. It was concerned.
You were shaking again, shudder after shudder racking your fragile body like an earthquake. You wrapped your arms around yourself, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tremors. “Yeah,” you lied, shooting him a smile that came off more as a grimace. “Just cold.”
In one swift motion so fast you would’ve missed it if you’d blinked, he swept his cape off his shoulders and draped it around you. The heat emanating from the fabric enveloped you like a comforting embrace. You stopped shaking.
“Do you like sandwiches?” he asked.
You blinked at him. “What?”
“There’s a sandwich shop on the way.” His eyes slid over you. “You must be hungry.”
As if on cue, your stomach growled embarrassingly loud. You tightened your arms around yourself. “Yes. Yes, I... I like... sandwiches.”
He nodded, a subtle, simple jut of his sharp jaw. His eyes flicked away from you again. You couldn’t tell if you were a burden to him or a piece of forbidden fruit, if it was revulsion he was displaying or resistance.
He walked across the parking lot over to the most expensive car you’d ever seen in your life, whether in person or in movies. He popped the door open and looked over at you expectantly. “Get in.”
You hesitated, remaining glued to your spot. You narrowed your eyes at him appraisingly. Suddenly, you could understand Edward’s obsession with the masked vigilante, why he’d agonized over the greeting cards he wrote him or the ridiculous, Saw-like traps he’d put on his victims. Underneath this man’s stoic exterior, there was something soft, something warm and endearing just below the surface that you could reach if you dug deep enough. It was intriguing.
It was dangerous.
As if someone had pressed play on a paused video, you started walking towards him like a paper clip drawn to a magnet. He hadn’t told you where he was taking you yet, but you trusted him enough now to take you somewhere safe. Although, you figured it didn’t really matter. After all, you had no where else to go.
notes ~okay so that s the first so waited for chapter. I’m sorry if it is not exactly what you hoped for but it's only the first one and I needed to begin the story somehow. However I hope you like it, even if our oc is still so quiet. Please leave some kind of feedback it would be awesome to know your opinion
It’s getting colder. The cold weather piercing every piece of body that came out of the calmness of heavy buildings, wind messing those perfect hair or blowing hats from their heads.
One of those furry covers laid just before you. One you knew really well considering the fact that it was with you from the beginning of life on the streets. It looked at you, the same gaze as the people walking a little farther - mixture of the known disgust and pity.
Kind of funny how the dead thing meant so much and could be so impressive in your eyes, nearly making you sight from the feeling it put you in. Comfort of the item so close yet so far, smiling cunningly at how pathetic your situation is, looking at the fact that your location is exactly on the other side of the busy road.
It’s only like five steps, why are you so scared?
You needed it. Ears on top of your head slowly freezes, twitching from the non ending wind that only seems to get stronger with coming days, only reminding you how the hat should be in your hands right now.
Eyes moved from side to side, observing how people walked right before you, not minding you or better, not noticing the shadowed figure hiding in the dark of a dirty alley. Problem was not with the length you needed to cross, but rather the sharp eyes of those who would not hesitate to take care of your being. Silent whispers even got to you, the population of homeless hybrids not having any relationship or more likely being wary of each other were still helpful, talking and sending discreet messages about dog catchers - in your case however hybrid catchers.
Something you nearly had a close meeting with, having enough luck to actually run away from waiting misfortune. Memories of it still making you shiver and pale.
The luck today is not on your side, with the new knowledge of the coming backs of those terrifying people, searching for maybe you. Breathe catched in your lungs, cold from the weather scratching your throat with its coldness as you leaned out from the shadow of the dark alley.
clean.
Your only chance.
Gathering all your courage, you looked over your shoulders, catching gaze with the sleepy feline, freezing even more than yourself, and with the little mewl from her you crawled from the safety of the passage. Cold of the wind hit you even more, blowing the matted and knotted hair over your whole face, making the trip a little harder with the limited visibility.
Socks on your feet catching moisture from the puddles of melted hoarfrost as the water stinged your cold skin with the passing seconds numbing the feeling of them completely. Circling your arms you hid under the lonely bench waiting for the passing people to get a little farther.
So close, you could feel the fluffy fabric in your hands. And you did, happily hugging it to your chest with a new hope.
You missed the comfort of the hat. Material a little dirtier than you remember, not smelling like you either, it stinked of the dirt and some kind of old food you could not recognize at this moment. But even with the no pleasant smell it still gave you a piece of safety.
Fuzzy fabric under your fingers, brushing it with love and delicacy just how you did with the fluffy carpet some months ago.
Oh yeah, the carpet. You did not like to think too much about it, not anymore after knowing what exactly it was made of and how it got into the hands of that human. In the end, you were supposed to end like this too.
Looking down at the hat in your hands you smiled softly, the imagines of the warm house still buzzing in your mind, not being fully bad or good, just memories you tried to forget with things that could replace it.
“What is that?” Quickly snapping your head in the place where the voice came from, two new heads came into the calm atmosphere you so quickly lost. Young woman with a child maybe not over six year old, clutching the younglings hands as if it would disappear soon.
“It looks like some dirty rat, stay here darling it might have some diseases.” Well that hurts. Yes, maybe your fur is matted, and your ears look a little less fluffy as well as your tail, bur rat? The snarky remark nearly left your mouth knowing very well that even if the woman looked expensive with the strong perfume you could smell from where you stayed, she would in no way have enough money to even buy you for one night. At least you think so.
Your thoughts however quickly disturbed by a ring of a phone, and that makes your flat ears spring to life with new anxiety building in the pit of your stomach.
It was a sign to hide again.
Taking the hat under arm, you dived under the bench once again, scrambling to the shadow of the alley, not minding the fast beating heart that quickened with the voice of a woman.
Breath fast and heavy with the lungs pricking you in the inside from the sudden run. Better safe than sorry, and even if it means that your throat will be begging for some warm water which it won’t get, it’s still better than being caught and not knowing if the next day will be yours.
“I did it.” You whispered falling on the dirty wall behind. Closed eyes let you catch the lost breath a little quicker, with the help of the piece of hard surface that soon got under your butt too. There is not even a reason to smile so much, stupid hat not will not satisfy your groing hunger, so why the stupid grin could not fall of your face, only getting big with your eyes opening.
Little mewl getting your attention once again, the cat looking at you with big eyes as if it thanks you for what you are going to do next. With all will power you stood up from the dirty ground, knees shaky from the exercise they were not ready for, and took three steps only to fall once again before the dirty blanket with the feline in it.
“It’s going to be okay, hopefully the hat will be enough for some days.” You know it was not true. But the look of the cat and little meow that came just under the bigger body was enough to put your nerves at ease. She needed the hat more anyway, she has kids and needed to be stronger a little more.
Purr soon like the music you heard one time flowed in the little space you named as your home, happy little noise making you smile again, pure grin you would be ashamed to admit appeared on your tired face. Little head under your shaky fingers as you brushed the matted fur knotted and missing in some place.
She won’t last the winter, not with the state she is in right now. The cat was with you nearly from the beginning of the homeless journey, first looking as good as you, with the good smelling coat of black hairs and sparkly eyes that looked at you with wariness. You both were so cluessel about your situation, just left to yourself without any help, and maybe that’s why the wretchedly looking cat became someone so close.
It’s one thing to realize when you lost something and second when you are losing with your own eyes. It makes you sick, but the constant reminder to be strong for her keeps you on your feet, now knees with jaw clenched watching how those little kittens basically sucks the life of their own mother. They came unannounced, one night waking you up from sleep as the devastating sounds of your furry friend ringed in the colder autumn night. Both of you with time got so unhealthy skinny you did not notice.
What if you did?
Would it change something, or are you trying to justify your actions? No, you were no killer, maybe giving her to a family would be some kind of solution. Now too late however to think about it as the black beauty looked at you with little purr as if she felt your sudden change in demeanor. You smiled, the tension leaving your jaw and muscles, letting your heavy limbs rest on the dirty wall next to. Such a pure creature, dear friend you would remember till your last days but even they seem counted, you just hope that the little kittens will find enough strength in them to survive.
One of them looking at you, trying to leave the comfy blanket of her mothers heat, one that is the smallest, one that you did not want to believe survived. It’s fur is different, probably after father, longer than others and nearly as colorful as yours. As if on sign you catched the little body that nearly crumbled over the hard pavement, now hiding in your hand bigger than its body hand, gazing fleetingly over at the mother she gave you a sweet blink like a silent permission to care for it for the time begin.
“You are going to be a troublemaker aren’t you?” You whispered, lifting the hand with the kitten to your eye level, immediately catching the dark orbs looking at you with a curiosity. Little mewl like a confirmation with a lick to one of your fingers, making you giggle and snuggle the kitten with love. It did not last long, the troublemaker soon insisting on being put on the fluffy hat.
It really looked like you, with its silver and black fur, so long and clean for constant licking of its mother. Pit in your stomach suddenly growing with the sight leaving you once again. Yeah it really made you realize how good life could be if the little incident did not happen.
Sweet scent of wood and fire luling you to sleep and the fluffy carpet under your whole body. The white fur of it is so soft, melting your body in it so delightfully, with the scent of comfort you could not figure out. The carpet, your bed, your chair, your table and your home, it is your life, you spended there since you could remember.
Given by your owner the second you were brought into his house, in the end you could not sit on people's furniture. It was something that you could not measure when it comes to how much you loved it. Maybe it’s a hybrid thing or maybe that’s because you never had a parent figure and the fur of the carpet gave you the weird feeling of security. So important you can not imagine a day without it, your first step, your first fall, your first punishment all of this was on this carpet. Like a blanket for a new born baby, you scented it and tried to give relief to any scenting your animalistic side wanted to do but the owner not allowed.
So with the background noise you could recognize as your owner you slowly fell into a calmness of sleepiness. Heat of the fireplace only speeding the process with its noise, it was just so perfect.
“Wake up.” One command, just above you waking you up from the dreamland. His voice immediately sent you into anxiety, the hardness and anger you could feel not promising anything good.
Sitting on your knees you bend your head like you were supposed to do, looking at the shiny shoes before you, they sparkled off the fireplace and dirtied your carpet a little. Your body started to shake naturally, the reaction something you gained in the years of living there something you could not control anymore.
“I was calling for you so many times, and you were sleeping like some dirty lazy piece of shit?” With the second word he took your ears pulling them so you looked straight at him. His face full of anger fuming even more after your little hiss. You did not hear him, how could you not.
Why did you not catch any noise, were you too comfortable? Your thoughts are soon interrupted by another sting, one that made your head blow to the other side, and if not the hard grip on your ears you would probably fly all the way to the ground.
“Are you so stupid? Or maybe the breeder made me buy some damaged crap.” The sting in your cheek is not stopping, now even letting you feel the metallic taste of a blood, however you could not identify if it's from the slap or the teeth that dug in your lip trying to hold back the tears. “What am I going to do with you hm?”
He had some options, the worst one probably leaving you without any food and water for the next few days or giving you to someone to discipline. But even those could not prepare you for what’s going to happen next.
Tension in your ears suddenly disappeared and so the anger oozing of the man. You felt scared even more, the shivers traveled straight to your fluffy tail which curled on your side. It just happened. You were young and the eyes of the man told you something you were scared about the most.
So without even acknowledging it the wet stain soon came to his shoes. You were brought up like an animal so you acted like one, pissing yourself from anxiousness is something he should not be so shocked about. The wet feeling soon came through your clothes as your ears nearly got into your skool from how flat they laid.
“That’s fucking disgusting.” He said taking some steps back, looking at you with such an expression you felt even less than dirt under his shoes. You clutched your hands, them being in fist so strong the nails you never got trimmed cuted the skin with ease and soon mixed blood with the yellowish liquid. “So many years and you still don’t know how to not piss?! God why am I still caring for you remind me?”
You did not answer, not even when his eyes told you to. Too terrified to do anything other than shake in your place, you just waited. And that was another mistake as the little spark glowed in his orbs soon after.
“That means if treating you as something more than an animal does not work, it’s time to start teaching you as one.” With those words he took one long stride once again taking your ears in a string grasp. The silent scream left your mouth as the pain got so much worse after the first haras tug.
“Please master, Please I wo-” Your cries were like a funny joke to him, only making him pull you harder to his face. Hot breath on your skin, like a hot metal being pressed.
“You know when I was younger I had a cat, even two. And when one of them could not learn they should not piss on furniture, we teached them the hard way.” Eyes stinging with tears, them not being discreet anymore sliding on your red cheeks like two waterfalls, making the red trace from the slap sting even more.
His words were not getting to you at that moment, only the treat that hid between them. With the next second, just when you opened your mouth once again to beg for forgiveness, he tugged you so hard to the ground. There was no empathy, the act inhumane as his hands started to wipe the wet carpet with your own face. Cries muffled so brutally the act imprinted in your head for the rest of your existence.
He did not care about any noise, how your breath got lost in the sobs and how your hands clutching his with time started to fall with exhaustion. You acted like an animal so you got the treatment, nothing you did not deserve. And even when your eyes closed and your body went limp his hands still gripped your ears for a good three minutes until he got satisfied, dropping your body with no care.
You soon found out that you could not move any limp, head looking to the side, soon catching sight of the sparkly shoes and knees. Fur under your fingers is still fluffy giving you comfort and strength to not pass out.
You were only a child.
He crouched, a sick smile on his face which your eyes could not reach. The breath you catched left you once again as his hand soon brushed a strand of hair that fell on your face, an uncontrolled flinch that only gave away how scared you still were.
His fingers soon found your chin catching you off guard with sudden tug. Your head in an uncomfortable place looking at the face of your owner as you silently gripped fur on the carpet for some calming effect.
“I never understood why you love the piece of fabric so much.” He says noticing your gesture. His eyes deep in thought with his hand still clutching your chin, little tears sliding down his skin only to end up lost in the same carpet. “But after some time I started to realize. It’s made from the same piece of shit like you.”
And with those words your word stops, eyes shakily looked up at him once again as if to confirm if you did hear it right. It hit you even more when you realized the fluff of the fur under your fingers indeed was too fluffy and soft. The carpet was your everything and now knowing it actually was someone who could comfort you like this in real life made you sob with a silent scream of agony.
The smell probably somehow lingered making you feel as if there was someone who would protect you. It made you sick. The thought of laying down on another hybrid, one which probably did not die from natural sickness. It terrified you how they must have forced them to stay in animal form only to kill it for its fur.
It made you angry.
“He was a bear, little older than you but definetly more stupid with his intorelabre behaviour. I got him from the same breeder I got you, the guy gave me him as a present for investing in the breeding center, such a precious gift. what a pity he decided to not listen to me.” he says it with such an attitude. Nonchalantly like if he does not care he was more than an animal, no care in his words you could even feel a little smile trying to sneak on his face.
“So my darling, we both don’t want this to happen to you, right?” He asks as if you would answer him. You decided to bit the lip, stopping the ugly sob of ringing in the room with the fear of making human more angry.
You could do nothing in the end.
“Go clean yourself my little fox, we need to go somewhere later.” He ended up nodding in the form of answering the previous question for you. His hand patted your stinging cheek, standing up after it and dusting his suit from invisible dust.
Heavy boots ringing in your ears as his steps got more unclear soon disappearing in the big penthouse. You were left alone, not even an adult with the terrifying truth of what your worth really is.
You were only a child when you decided to run away and live life on the streets. Choosing this life just because you could not bear the sight of another hybrid in such a form, being forced to live on it like someone who is not connected to it on such a deep level.
Catching the sight of the hat once again you smiled sadly, remembering how for you the fluffy could become the only moment of comfort.
At least you knew it was not made of real fur, having that artificial feeling in every piece of hair, however still warm and soft to touch.
“Hyung~ I told you I smell something there.” Sudden voice wakes you up from the thoughts. Whine sounding a little gruff voice however deep and dangerously close to your own self.
They were close too.
Scrambling to your knees you quietly started to put the kittens in the blanket, and took the fabric quickly in your fist. The plan seemed a little easier in your head than that. Jaw so tense you could feel the little fangs piercing through your dry lips as you put all your power into transfering cats into safety.
Your ears spranged to life with the sound of footsteps, getting closer with every second. Panicked expression on your face as you decided to leave the blanket alone, instead you hugged it to your chest praying for the man to just walk away.
It was so risky, showing your back to the potential danger, however the kittens now become your priority, anxiously meowing and scratching your arms from the uncomfortable position.
“Please just stay quiet a little longer.” You begged, feeling the tears prick your eyes. It was pointless and even made the felines more scared than before, probably hearing a quickened beating of your heart.
“I swear I heard something here - oh.” And that was it, they found you. Cold of the air hit you even more with the sudden silence. You heard them breath, they stopped not even two meters from you, completely frozen. “See -I told you! Should have listened to me from the beginning, hyung.”
“It’s not time Teahyung.” There for sure were two of them. One being hybrid with its thick smell, more precisely a predator - feline. Second seem like a trick one, with so many smells you could not describe, however the one you would recognize the most soon hit your nose with a blow.
Human.
Your eyes widened as your mouth started to feel weirdly dry. Everything quietened, the kittens stopped moving as well as the intruders, with your breath leaving you completely.
You did not realize how badly your body shook until the blanket nearly fell from your embrace, catching yourself just before the disaster.
You listened as one of them made a step in your way, immediately jumping away with a hiss. Tail so puffy you nearly could not feel how hard it was swishing the ground. You looked at the human, the one which decided to come closer, with a frown, eyes sharp ready to attack anytime.
He’s tall, towering over your form nearly two times with a long coat and a beanie that hid his hair completely. His hands are in the air, as if he wanted to tell you he is not going to hurt you, with an expression full of worry.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He says taking another step in your way, quickly stopping realizing how this move made you even more anxious. “Taehyung, could you bring the blankets from the car?”
He did not even wait for any other instruction, running somewhere leaving you and the human alone.
It’s really bad. There is no way for you to sneak past him without leaving kittens or getting caught, which leaves you only to curl tighter under one of the bins farthest to the human.
He is watching you so carefully as if you would disappear any given minute, with the eyes you could only describe as similar to a dragon. Sharp and attentive, so dark but full of unspoken happiness hiding under the pupils.
“It’s cold, Taehyung will soon come with blankets.” He tells you with a quiet voice. Kittens in your embrace trying to move once again making you grip the torn fabric harder only to end up getting the humans attention on the last thing you wanted to place it on. His eyes widened and mouth opened like a fish with the new information he got. “Are they yours?”
You wanted to laugh at his confused and even more worrisome face, deciding however to stay curled and quiet. There was no way for you to give birth, and even thought you were a completely different animal than the kittens in your arms.
Just when you wanted to answer, the other feline came back, giving you the full view of the hybrid before you. His hair fluffy nearly hiding the big striped ears on top, however not them gave away what actually the panting man is, but rather the long tail soon wrapping itself over the arm of the human.
His arms full of blankets, breath heavy from the quick run he just finished as he sat on the ground with a heavy huf.
“I ran as fast as I could.” He gasped, propping half of his body on the human.
“You did well Tae, can you give them to our new friend too?” The way he said that matched the look on his face. Calming and so soft only leaving you with more anxiety over the weird behaviour. Hands finding a way to brush the fluffy hair and get a little purr from the tiger which happily, a little tired, but still happy stood up once again coming closer to you.
Your eyes widened as your body shook from the sudden closeness of the feline. What was he doing, is he going to grab you and forcefully make you leave with them whoever knows where?
You hissed on the spots, not noticing how the movement revealed the little family you protected in your arms, immediately catching the attention of the tiger.
“Oh! Kittens.” He shouts dropping the blankets on the floor, ducking after it to touch one of the fluffy cats. And that was his mistake.
Not even a second passed when the tiger shouted once again, this time clutching his scratched hand to his body, scrambling to the human which just shook his head disappointed, probably realizing now how his request would end.
“She scratched me hyung!” He whined showing the small longitudinal wound to the man beside. Eyes full of unshed tears and mouth in a pout, so different from other tiger hybrids you met, but maybe that was just an act. Even though looking back at the fluffy haired man your own guilt started to eat you somewhere still however you were overwhelmed by the fear.
However the apologetic face did not escape the eyes of the human as his own eyes soon turned to the whiny hybrid on his side, taking his hand in his own and blowing delicacy on red mark.
“You shouldn’t have jumped like this in the first place, you scared her even more and such a sudden movement is not going to lessen her nerves.” His eyes turned to the poting tiger, looking at him with a soft expression. The gesture he did after making you straighten up a little, observing how his bigger hands flick the little ear of the curly haired male, immediately getting from him an bigger pout and offended look.
Once again there is the silence, choking you even more than the little bicker that happened not minute ago. Your own eyes find themselves on the blanket left a little farrer from you, not enough to take them by hand, but if you try hard enough your foot will reach it.
“They are for you.” You heard as if they encouraged you to make a move for it. But you were not that stupid, the obvious trap were nothing new, you just hoped they would leave you as soon as they got bored. “You are freezing, and if not for you think about the kittens. I can see you care about them.”
He had a point. The little ones indeed were freezing, your body heat not enough to warm them in the middle of the windy night. Your skin even for you felt like an ice to touch, numb and shaky in some places blue and purple from not healed wounds.
“Please just take them, I promise we are not going to do anything.” It was surprising, how his voice broke in the middle of the sentence, begging you to comply. You couldn’t hide how big your eyes got, or how the tone made you look up from the blankets straight to the eyes of the human.
Why is he so desperate? Is it some kind of act?
The little whine caught you of gourd interrupting the building question as the tiger next to the human gazed at you with such sad eyes.
“We just want to help, right Hyung?” The tiger, whose name was Taehyung if you remember well, asked turning his head to watch his hyung nod in confirmation. You saw how his tail was now clutched in his hands, something you did to comfort yourself too.
But why would he do that?
You watched them, jumping from the tiger to human for at least a minute, until your eyes catched the dark orbs of the black cat, your friend that must have felt your dilemma encouraging you to make a move. It was hard, watching the strangers with sharp eyes while placing the blanket on the side with carefulness.
The blanket felt different, soft and smelled of a detenger and some other hybrids. The color of it is such a pretty cream, sadly it won’t last in such a state for a long time on the streets. The fluff on it is a little worn off but still pleasant on your cheek as you unconsciously start to scent it not even hearing your own purr leaving your throat.
The little giggle woke you up from the faze with red cheeks, not necessarily so red from the cold weather. Scrambling fast to the safety of your small corner you quickly took the blanket and wrapped it around the kittens, watching with a smile how those fluffy felines immediately started to make a nest off it.
You looked once again at the duo, catching them watching you with little smiles. Oh well the tiger grinned like crazy, which you were not going to lie made you embarrassed even more about them seeing you in such a state.
“I’m happy you like it.” The human said, breathing with a relife you could not understand. He stood up suddenly, taking the bigger hand of a tiger taking him to his feet with him. His calm eyes watching you a little less off put you cold even said he got relaxed.
“We won’t stress you more, but please use the other blanket for yourself too.” You don’t understand, are they going to leave you like this? The tiger shared your confusion looking at the human male with big eyes and shocks.
:Wait - hyung we can’t leave-
“There is nothing we can do more for now.” He cuted him watching him with hard look. The tiger is still a little put off from his weird behaviour.
Why would Namjoon just leave her when she evidently needs help?
“But-” This time the human just opted to tug the tiger to his side whispering something to his ears you could not catch, visibly calming down the nerves of the big cat.
And once again you were met with that dimpled smile and dragon eyes looking at you with undescribed promise. With the last nod from him and the worried gaze of the tiger they both disappeared under the dark shadow of the night, leaving you alone with the silence and fast beating heart.
You just hoped that the meeting is not going to be something you will need to experience daily.
Recently heartbroken, it feels like you’ll never be able to get over it. But a chance encounter with a guy you haven’t seen in months changes everything…
pairing; min yoongi x f reader | feat. kim namjoon x f reader
au/genre/warnings; (semi) fuck buddies au, rebound au, unrequited feelings, angst, smut, romance, happy ending
words; tbc
pairing: yoongi x reader // word count: 15.8k // genre: smut
summary: your idea of a good night certainly doesn’t involve being stood up by yet another blind date and finding yourself alone in a fancy bar; fortunately for you, there’s an attractive man playing the piano to keep you busy, instead.
warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), cursing, minor consumption of alcohol, oral (m and f receiving), protected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, pet names, slight exhibitionism, slight praise kink, light dom/sub undertones if you squint ig (reader is kind of subby)
– –
Throughout the years of your life, you’ve learned a few things. Some of them are pretty obvious (buying suspiciously cheap sushi from a petrol station is like playing Russian Roulette with food poisoning and diarrhoea), some of them are less so (just because something is ‘on sale’ doesn’t actually mean that it’s cheaper if they’d increased the overall price beforehand), but one thing that you’re only just starting to learn is that— for all that Jimin says otherwise— blind dates will always stand you up.
pairing: yoongi x reader // word count: 15.8k // genre: smut
summary: your idea of a good night certainly doesn’t involve being stood up by yet another blind date and finding yourself alone in a fancy bar; fortunately for you, there’s an attractive man playing the piano to keep you busy, instead.
warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), cursing, minor consumption of alcohol, oral (m and f receiving), protected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, pet names, slight exhibitionism, slight praise kink, light dom/sub undertones if you squint ig (reader is kind of subby)
– –
Throughout the years of your life, you’ve learned a few things. Some of them are pretty obvious (buying suspiciously cheap sushi from a petrol station is like playing Russian Roulette with food poisoning and diarrhoea), some of them are less so (just because something is ‘on sale’ doesn’t actually mean that it’s cheaper if they’d increased the overall price beforehand), but one thing that you’re only just starting to learn is that— for all that Jimin says otherwise— blind dates will always stand you up.
summary: everyone knows that androids don’t think, or feel, or have emotions. they’re not human, after all. so when a two hour session with a sex android ends up with nothing more than a nice conversation, you think that’s the first and last time you’ll see v.
then he turns up at your door.
pairing: taehyung x f!reader / word count: 24.4k / genre: robot!taehyung/virgin!reader, fluff, smut (NSFW, 18+)
warnings: cursing/explicit language, very brief injury mention/blood mention (nothing violent/explicit I promise!), alcohol consumption, reference to former sex work, sexually explicit content, reference to masturbation, reader has sex for the first time, oral (f + m), multiple orgasms (f), unprotected sex (taehyung is an android but please take necessary precautions irl), I think that’s it but please let me know if I’ve missed anything
a/n: this got so incredibly long,, I hope that makes up for the wait! thank you to @hobi-gif, as always, for being so supportive and uplifting and beta reading this for me, you are a shining star in my sky. and thank you to the wonderful @flowerseokjin for letting me pick her brain about art galleries and telling me about the incredible exhibition/paintings that I wrote about in this fic, you truly are the loveliest 💕
note: this is the final part of the main story! I’ll be writing minis/drabbles etc in the future but,, this is part 2 of 2 💖
A month after Taehyung walks into your life, you finally get new neighbours.
You’re aware of this because:
a) Rory had let you know in advance (to wit: “I have been instructed to inform you that the new tenants of apartment 4A will be moving in next Sunday.”)
summary: everyone knows that androids don’t think, or feel, or have emotions. they’re not human, after all. so when a two hour session with a sex android ends up with nothing more than a nice conversation, you think that’s the first and last time you’ll see v.
then he turns up at your door.
pairing: taehyung x f!reader / word count: 24.4k / genre: robot!taehyung/virgin!reader, fluff, smut (NSFW, 18+)
warnings: cursing/explicit language, very brief injury mention/blood mention (nothing violent/explicit I promise!), alcohol consumption, reference to former sex work, sexually explicit content, reference to masturbation, reader has sex for the first time, oral (f + m), multiple orgasms (f), unprotected sex (taehyung is an android but please take necessary precautions irl), I think that’s it but please let me know if I’ve missed anything
a/n: this got so incredibly long,, I hope that makes up for the wait! thank you to @hobi-gif, as always, for being so supportive and uplifting and beta reading this for me, you are a shining star in my sky. and thank you to the wonderful @flowerseokjin for letting me pick her brain about art galleries and telling me about the incredible exhibition/paintings that I wrote about in this fic, you truly are the loveliest 💕
note: this is the final part of the main story! I’ll be writing minis/drabbles etc in the future but,, this is part 2 of 2 💖
A month after Taehyung walks into your life, you finally get new neighbours.
You’re aware of this because:
a) Rory had let you know in advance (to wit: “I have been instructed to inform you that the new tenants of apartment 4A will be moving in next Sunday.”)
this is my part of the rockin’ around the christmas tropes collab with @yeojaa, @underthejoon @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna, @untaemedqueen, @xjoonchildx ✨ MERRY (early) CHRISTMAS Y’ALL
summary: yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same.
and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing.
pairing: yoongi x barista f!reader / word count: 14.8k / genre: coffeeshop!au, fluff, dash of smut (NSFW)
warnings: slow burn, terrible drink concoctions, pining, miscommunication (kind of/reader comes to incorrect conclusions based on literally nothing), the tiniest bit of swearing, heated makeouts, oral (m receiving), I think that’s it
a/n: I have a lot of people to thank: thank you to my loveliest most beautiful wife @yeojaa for the beautiful banner 🥺💖 thank you to @morndas for helping me name this fic and suggesting some of the awful weekly specials featured within 🥰 thank you to @yeoldontknow for letting me have multiple meltdowns at her and for letting me pick her brain about working in the music industry, and for helping me with plot points I wasn’t sure about!! 💕
also thank you to @hobi-gif for helping me brainstorm the original fic idea with her; she hasn’t beta’ed this fic because I am TERRIBLE and literally finished this like an hour before posting. that’s on me and not her. I am a shambles without her indomitable proof reading skills; any mistakes are down to me, and I apologise for that. I’ve only read this through like once, sorry in advance, I’m literally formatting this while I should be getting ready for work
Being a barista isn’t all bad.
Like, okay, you’re on your feet for hours at a time, the pay isn’t exactly the highest in the world, and coffee beans have a tendency to end up in the weirdest places (how did you get the light roast in your bra?)—but it’s not entirely terrible.
Here’s a (totally not comprehensive) list of good things about working at the Paradise coffee shop:
glimpse: rich kid!jimin is a cuddly spoiled brat, personal assistant!y/n is his constant in everything, bodyguard!jungkook keeps making pLAUSIBLE excuses to wear dark clothes, and chef!jin’s dishes are as heavenly as his looks but nO he’s not gonna make u homemade cookie dough at 2 in the morning just bECAUSE u asked nicely :((( he’s gonna do it at 4 am bc you pouted
wordcount: 31k so if u have difficulty with this fic then pls open it in ur desktop or open it in tumblr safari/browser instead of the app :D
notes: this piece is a favorite of mine!! this consumed nine pages in my notebook when i was just getting started to write the fLOW and this whole thing is the longest i’ve ever written // and aLSO the gif isn’t mine!! :D
glimpse: dr. min's distraught on how you're still best friends with kim taehyung, aka your ex-boyfriend who's now famous.
alternatively, yoongi gets a dose of his own medicine and he seriously considers going to a cardiologist for his heartaches from chasing after you.
[ a continuation to part one ]
[ angst, so much pining but this time it's yoongi's 24/7 occupation, jealousy n insecurity, eventual fluff ]
notes: i really didn't expect a lot of requests for this piece to have a continuation but alas here it is!! the main theme of the asks i received is to make dr. min suffer and honestly i am not against it <3 once again, this is inspired by yang seok-hyeong and choo min-ha’s dynamic from hospital playlist and u don’t necessarily have to watch it in order to read this!! ok anyways pls enjoy this piece :D
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!
Yoongi has four chances left.
Four is an even number by literal definition but he feels that it's odd. It’s a number that’s unfair and unforgiving and he just realized today how much hatred he could have for a damn digit.
Was it a smart move that he immediately asked you out two seconds after he proposed the offer of getting to ask you out for only five times? Not really. But in actuality, Yoongi would’ve thought it was the smartest move if only you accepted. Yet of course, you rejected him (he can’t blame you) and now he realized how dispensable he really is.
He’s never really chased someone per se. Never really been the type to question nor prod but he feels like he’s the nosiest being ever when it comes to you — you, who isn’t all that crazy for him nowadays.
And he understands! Yoongi truly understands where he went wrong and as much you assured him that he’s not obligated to like you back, he still gave you motive and means and that atleast has to count for something.
He’s paying the price, that much he knows. He’s filling in your shoes and even if you’ve stood countless of times next to him, only for him to look down and see how your work shoes are smaller than his, he feels like it’s an infinite void he’s stepped into.
“You know that Y/N’s my oldest friend, right? Knew her before I knew you?” Jimin asked him as soon as Yoongi spilled the beans on how his interaction went with you, adding in a half-ass apology of how he threw him out of the breakroom.
“Mhmm. Is this the part where you give me the guy best friend speech?” He snickered but he feels the worry in his tummy, not admitting to how Jimin may be younger but he can truly intimidate him from time to time.
“Close,” he chuckled, putting a spoonful of the ice cream you’ve treated him to out of the blue. “But I just want you to know that I know her the most, and I know that she doesn’t forget. Doesn’t really give in that easily. Doesn’t really budge when it’s not needed.”
Yoongi’s lips pursed at that. “How do you want me to take that?”
Jimin’s intentions are pure. Not ill, but rather honest. It’s his way of telling his friend that chasing after his other friend wouldn’t be easy. Not exactly futile but it’s close to it, having had the knowledge that when you give up, you truly give up. “You take it however you want to.”
It’s that small interaction with your closest friend that pushes Yoongi to suck up a breath and let himself be embarrassed, knowing that you’ve done it numerous times before for him.
“Good morning.”
Yoongi chirps from behind you and all the remaining grogginess from your short nap you take before opening gets detached, resisting the urge to yawn.
“Hi.”
Dr. Min tries not to smile when he sees you blink away the sleep-induced tears rapidly but he fails anyway, learning that he has nothing to hide.
His morning routines are different to say the least. He buys his own coffee now and only throws his bag when he sees you within the crowd of a staff greeting him, regardless if you’re the one who catches it or not.
He doesn’t go straightly to his office but instead he aims straight for the breakroom and if you haven’t arrived there, then he’d wait. He knows not to impose on your routine that you’ve set but there’s no harm in trying to slightly impose, just enough to make his presence known.
He waits for five minutes and tries to just casually give you his treat of the morning, just as casual as if he woke up from bed and suddenly decided to buy himself cocoa crepe cake and accidentally bought one more slice, and even more hauntingly, accidentally packaged it up in a lunchbox with your name on it so it would retain its form and coolness.
All accidental and casual of course.
Yoongi, the easy-going guy he is, puts an all too-familiar cup in front of you — something that only Jimin could know how frustrated you get when you try to find it in the chiller aisles.
"The grocery was all out of this. Where did you find it?"
He smiles to himself for yet another job well done, suddenly feeling his skin prick with nervousness when you twirl the cylinder with your fingers.
Oh god, did he give you a damaged one?
Was this not your favorite flavor of pudding?
Better yet, do you even eat it at all?
It clicks in your memory why the expiration date is familiar, the pudding obviously not yet spoiled but it's the exact one you've seen before.
"How much did Jimin charge you for this?"
It's from Jimin's fridge from the grocery trip you embarked on with him just last week ago, remembering snagging the last two packs for each of you to take home. It's routine that the both of you get your groceries together despite living apart — it's routine for him to drive the cart and chuck the items from both of your lists, and it's routine for you to check the expiration dates since he clearly doesn't.
Yoongi can't find it within him to be annoyed that you found him out so quick because the entire situation itself is humorous, sheepishly scratching his nape.
"Thrice the price, I think."
You chuckle in amusement, not entirely sure if it's because Jimin managed to sell your favorite pudding for thrice the price, or it's because Yoongi bought it despite being ripped off. "Is it worth it?"
He knows you only mean the question at surface-level but he can't help to look at it a little more deeply, shrugging as what seems to be the obvious answer.
"Well you're smiling now and you're getting a spoon, so yeah, of course. I think it's worth indulging Jimin the part-time scalper."
It's nice seeing you laugh because of him. He figures that he probably must've hurt you in ways he wasn't even aware of but he tries not to dwell on it, instead looking at you face-to-face.
"Do you want more of those?" he tentatively asks and you're clueless to how his voice became meek, putting his hands behind his back as he practices the smooth flow of words in the back of his head.
You snort at the question despite sounding like a lure, answering truthfully the moment you let the pudding engulf your tiny spoon.
"I'd actually gatekeep it if I had the chance to."
"I called around," Yoongi starts off and all the shakiness has disappeared from his voice, a solid front as he risks one of the four chances that he's entitled to. "I have this close friend who owns a restaurant. He has whole tubs of these and he said he'd give it to me for free."
Your eyes widen considerably and he takes it positively, a huge relief that he has so many connections that are seemingly in his favor each time.
"Do you wanna go to the restaurant? I'll pick it up with you so I can see too why you love it so much."
He sees you eat a spoonful with your eyes twinkling, no joke at all when Jimin swore up and down that this is your favorite. He shoves down the hope he feels because second tries don't always end up victorious because they don't even rhyme at all.
"No thank you," you hum, shaking your head. "But can I have the number of your friend though?"
Yoongi's eye twitches and he tilts his head at your reply that simultaneously involves him and not at all at the same exact time.
"For uh, f-for pudding purposes, right?"
"Gatekeeping your friend now, Dr. Min? Why, is he handsome?"
You joke but the concept of it doesn't sit snugly on his bottom lips because it weighs it down considerably into a frown, his eyebrows scowling as he thinks of a family friend with the name of Kim Seokjin.
The despair he feels is short-lived because it's replaced with annoyance, the tiniest bit of green tinting his vision. "No. Definitely not. He's unattractive. Undesirable. His only personality trait is that he's friends with me. Stop asking."
Dr. Min's answer is too blunt to the point that you find yourself coughing, looking at the cup in front of you while you talk in passing.
"I assume he's friends with Jimin. I'll just ask him then."
Yoongi snaps out of his jealousy-fueled reverie and he physically shakes the thought away from his mind, mumbling at first. "What? No, no, don't do that. I'll just-" he feels for the car keys in his pocket, making a mental note to drive to the restaurant right after closing.
"I'll bring it to you myself tomorrow. No need to ask for his number."
( ♡ )
Hoseok has no interest and didn't really mean to, but he thinks he's unconsciously memorized and met the entirety of all the personalities that the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator could ever come up with.
He thought it was stupid at first but now that there's been five separate clients who went to the front desk to ask for some more magazines while in reality, they were just chatting him up in attempt to have their slot moved earlier, it's not all so stupid anymore.
What he's been doing is giving the same magazines each time with a different page opened, all with a customer service smile saying that it was new.
"Do we have a lot of patients today?"
He almost grits his teeth at yet another client but he's relieved when he looks up and it's just Yoongi, lazily leaned against the counter with a bored look on his face.
"Yeah, like a hoarde. I don't think I'd even be able to use my phone in-between."
"You use your phone during your shift?"
Hoseok merely scoffs despite being flustered that he just admitted to his boss that he's not all that attentive and uses every second of his time in using Excel and arranging patients' charts.
"No you use your phone during your shift. I don't know what you're talking about."
Yoongi doesn't add onto such a childish remark from his childhood friend that only calls him Dr. Min when there's actual people around, unbothered enough that he diverts the conversation smoothly.
"Is Jimin in? All the other doctors are here too?"
"Of course he's in. Of course all the other doctors are in," Hoseok furrows his brows and stops typing on his keyboard that's greased up with his hand sanitizer. "Yoongi you literally own this place why do you — this is routine already. What's with you?"
"Nothing," the guy in question huffs, crossing his arms as he pathetically throws back the question. "What's with you?"
Hoseok's clueless on why Yoongi's chatting him up in the front desk when it's clear that the clients in the waiting room could clearly see their doctor doing everything else besides accommodate them, a little lost for words.
"Long queue for me?"
He exhales at how Yoongi still won't budge and leave his front desk, definitely certain now that once the doctor leaves, he'd be hounded again by impatient clients.
"You have the longest one today. Beat Jimin only by two patients more," he mumbles, making it the official verdict for the little competition that the two owners and main doctors have of which would get the more clients.
"Cool, cool," he's only slightly amused by his win of the day because it's clear that his mind's in other places, looking at his back slyly before turning to Hoseok again. "Assign Y/N only to me today."
His secretary actually deadpans at him as if he's not surprised at all but still insulted nonetheless. "But the clinic's busy," he motions to the hoarde of people that are a mix of appointments and walk-ins. "All the nurses are free game to the doctors because it's hectic."
Yoongi sucks in a faux gasp, motioning to Hoseok to come close to him so he could whisper.
The younger guy rolls his eyes but he knows that Yoongi won't leave him alone until he doesn't, begrudgingly coming closer across the desk.
"I own the clinic."
Hoseok gasps lewdly to indulge the guy, making him roll his eyes in return. He beckons him back closer so he could cup his hands around his ear, eyes wide to make it look like he's never been more serious of anything in his life.
"Do you want me to buy you a collar so you could wear it for Y/N?"
Yoongi would've smacked Hoseok at the back of his head if only you hadn't made your appearance known at the front desk with a frantic gaze, making him straighten his posture immediately.
Hobi smiles at you like he always does and you wave at him before you speak to Dr. Min, unnerved at the daggers they send to each other during the split second you looked away.
"Doc where have you been? Ms. Seri keeps looking at her Rolex."
Right. Seri, of course. Yoongi's reminded of why he came out of the procedure room in the first place with the excuse that he's getting the materials even if you've already brought in the cart.
He's reminded of how he's the best in the game and that's why Seri, his ex-wife's nosy best friend that's just dead-set on dipping her heels in every occasion, was awkwardly left alone with you in the procedure room until you had to excuse yourself because Dr. Min's taking too long.
He walks lethargically back into the room and you have to slow down your pace every now and then because it'd be rude if you walk ahead of the doctor, even if he's intentionally taking ages to stroll.
Botox on the forehead. Enclosed room with Seri and Y/N. Less than twenty minutes.
Yoongi inhales to soldier through it all, carelessly opening the door to see the immediately inquisitive gaze of Seri who looks more than excited to see him again.
"Disinfectant, please."
He wastes no time into making Seri lie down to get it all over with, making you fumble for the pad as you swallow down the guffaw when Dr. Min cleanses the area a little more vigorously than needed, seeing the pinkness that's blooming on Miss Seri's glass skin.
She hums at it but Yoongi knows that she already has a question blooming underneath her tongue, only a matter of seconds before he's cornered.
"How's Jihye?"
There it is.
If you're shocked to hear the name, you definitely don't show it because you barely even flinch. You only have an inkling of who's connected to who, but you don't have the faintest idea how Miss Seri's closely related to Miss Jihye as a token nosy friend.
If Yoongi's annoyed to hear the unnecessary mention of his name, he definitely shows it.
"Marker, please."
He only bites gently as he looks at you with worry that you can decipher, a look that baffles you for all the wrong reasons because he looks apologetic even.
He quietly marks Seri's skin as you hand her the mirror to observe, only leaning back slightly to see the symmetry. It's quiet besides Seri's hums, the default explanation Dr. Min has to do when it comes to botox not being uttered because the girl already knows it enough for the amount of times she's been in this chair
"Jihye and I are divorced now, Seri. You were like the third person to ever know."
He's met with a knowing chuckle because she was indeed one of the first people to ever know, knowing that he wouldn't be surprised at all when someone tells him that she was the one who leaked the news to the press because it's not far-fetched at all.
Seri's more than satisfied with the markings, handing you back the mirror. "Jihye's single. You know that right?"
"Numbing cream, please."
Yoongi isn't interested at the slightest bit and it shows with how his eyes look sleepy, his hand waiting for you to hand him the container as he doesn't even chuckle at the unwarranted input of his patient.
"Hmm, she is? Good for her," he sing-songs but it sounds the furthest thing from entertaining, feeling compelled to slather on a whole lot of cream to the point Seri wouldn't even be able to feel until the next month.
It's clear that he's annoyed and there's no point in covering it up. Even when he was still married, he was already long-annoyed at Seri who does exceedingly well in trying to get under his skin.
She's annoying and he doesn't even know why Jihye still keeps her around. It's not pity that he feels in extension for his ex-wife, but it's just pure-hearted annoyance.
"There's this gala next week, did you know? Jihye's invited and she's also entitled to a plus one," Seri hums proudly even if unprompted. "Not every guest is privy to that."
"Syringe please, Y/N."
Yoongi ignores her all the more as he cusses infinitely in his mind because of all the times he had to cater to who happens to be his ex-wife's friend, it just had to be you who's his assistant.
Yoongi from ten minutes ago would've been happy as he requested specifically for you to Hoseok, but the present version of him wants nothing more than to usher you outside so you wouldn't have to be in the same room and endure a conversation such as this.
"I know there's a gala next week because you're not the first party-goer I've given botox to today," he mumbles as he injects, unblinking when Seri winces slightly despite the numbing cream.
"All the plus-ones are screened beforehand, you know that," she emphasizes and it hurts Yoongi right where it hurts, reminding him well-enough the times he had to walk the red carpet with the woman he doesn't want to do anything with. "Whether they walk the red carpet or not, you can't just bring a random person in there."
Yoongi can sniff from a mile away what Seri's intention is and it frustrates him to no end, a groan brewing at the back of his throat.
"You're trying to get me and Jihye back together and it's a no, Seri," he says it so sternly that it intimidates you even if it isn't directed at you. Yoongi only leans away briefly to cover the next area, looking up at you for a fraction of a second before he injects again. "Besides, my eye's set on someone special already. Lay it off already."
He takes his eyes off of you even before you could register what he said, the blankness in your face wavering at the slightest.
"Is she a model?"
"She could be if she wanted to."
"Dating already?"
"No," he answers straightly and with the way he sees Seri's lips curve as she probably has the intention to relay this to his ex-wife and 99 others, he regrets that he even gave her numbing cream in the first place. "Not yet, atleast."
"Ah, so you're single," she exclaims, her forehead once again being harshly cleansed to remove the markings but she champions through it. "And so is Jihye."
Yoongi reclines the chair suddenly that it almost has Seri recoiling in surprise, removing his gloves to discard them as he points to the door.
"Goodbye, Seri."
Miss Seri rolls her eyes and spares you a glance with her lips pouted as if to get you on her team, directing his gaze to Yoongi one last time to silently signal to you that there must be something wrong with him.
She leaves the procedure room without so much of a fight and it leaves you in the room alone with Dr. Min who's gone silent, sitting on one of the chairs with his brows furrowed in deep thought.
"I'm sorry for that."
It piques your attention instantly because you don't grasp it fully, tilting your head in question. "Why are you apologizing?"
He hangs his mouth briefly, glancing up at you with an inquiring gaze of a puppy who's pondering in misplaced remorse. "Are you mad at me?"
"I have no reason to be mad at you."
You say truthfully as you wipe down the chair, alarming Yoongi slightly because it seems to him that you don't care at all and it worries him to no end.
"A-are you sure?" he asks once again, eyes widening while he tries to look for the barest shift of attention in your eyes.
"Why would I be mad, Dr. Min? I'm not childish to throw a tantrum over your own personal affairs."
Your own personal affairs.
He doesn't know why the mere fact you've stated affects him more than it should. Better yet, it probably wasn't even a dig at him. It's just a casual answer that involved the truth and he's getting butthurt over it because he thought it would affect you.
"Y-yeah. You're right."
He swallows the lump on his throat and he feels the burst of proactiveness in his chest, lips curling as he tries to catch your gaze one more time.
He didn't plan on asking today but he just felt it in the back of his head. He's not entirely sure if it's appropriate for the moment, but it prods at his mind to try.
"If you're not mad, then would you go out with me tonight? I'm closing the clinic at five o'clock exactly."
"No," you chuckle in amusement at the suddenness of the question. "I'm not going out with you, not because I'm mad."
Yoongi tilts his head because this is the rejection he feels for the third time wherein it hits a little closer to him for each attempt that he tries, waiting for your answer still even if you wouldn't reverse it.
"Busy tonight. I need to look for a gown."
"A gown? What for?" his interest grows in your admission, straightening his posture as he knows you're bound to finish cleaning up any second now. "I can come with. I don't complain when there aren't any chairs in the shop."
You only humor him with a snort, exiting the procedure room without waiting for him.
"Next patient, Dr. Min."
( ♡ )
Jimin didn't really know what to do this weekend.
He made no prior plans and his rest day remains unmarked and untouched. He doesn't have the slightest clue on what he should do today, but he knows for sure that this isn't something he'd think about in the first try.
"Hang out with me."
Yoongi says as he's sitting on the other end of Jimin's couch, sprawled while cuddled up to a throw pillow because after all, it must've been exhausting to invite himself over to his friend's house and decide to spend some time with him.
"You already came over, we're already hanging out."
He isn't entirely sure if what he's seeing is correct because as far as he knew, he was the clingier out of the duo. He's the one who comes over to Yoongi's place and buys all the snacks — not this. Not the other way around.
Yoongi must've probably picked up a theme along the way too because he came over wearing matching pajamas and made and off-hand comment of how Jimin's sleep shirt looks ratty, therefore making him change into a set. They're vaguely matching at this point and Jimin just badly wants to know what the hell is going on with his friend's mind.
"No we're not. We're just sitting together on a couch after I had to see you struggling to mirror your phone to your TV."
Yoongi's clingy and if he's entirely being honest, he didn't want to be lonely tonight. Watching replays on his phone didn't satiate him enough and you're not asking him out to go do something in the weekends, so he resorts to the next big thing — crash at Jimin's place so he wouldn't feel alone.
The host huffs because he struggled for atleast ten minutes to mirror his phone, giving Yoongi more than an eyeful of his recent searches and all the photos he's took with neighborhood cats outside the clinic.
"I think your definition of hanging out revolves around talking about Y/N."
"N-no it's-" he stammers over nothing but he gives it up when he's shot with a look that he doesn't sound believable at all, "that's justified."
Jimin decides to let it go because Yoongi dodges the topic of you altogether, probably too sheepish to admit that he only has two tries left and he hasn't made you agree even once, but he knows it nonetheless.
It wasn't embarrassing; if anything, it's adorable. He knows that Yoongi's never the one to chase and it's a little heartwarming to see how determined he is.
Yoongi moves his hair out of the way that's become longer, the blonde being faded at this point. "Why are we watching the gala livestream anyway?"
That gains the younger one's attention instantaneously because he just about remembers to rant, dropping the chip back to his bowl because talking would be the first priority at his list.
"Remember Soyeon?" he asks and the image of the petite celebrity flashes on Yoongi's mind, making him nod. Jimin's relieved to know that they're on the same page because otherwise, he wouldn't have someone to share his sentiment with. "Gave her a rhinoplasty a week ago and I explicitly told her that it would bruise. Like I literally just removed the splint yesterday."
"Yikes," Yoongi winces at the mental image, knowing that the bruising that comes with it isn't subtle at all. "Do you think her team managed to cover it up?"
"The nose? No. Definitely not. She didn't want me to do it subtly," Jimin snorts as he takes a swig of his beer, swallowing bitterly before continuing. "But the bruising? I really wanna see if they did good."
Yoongi turns his gaze to the huge TV in front of him (this has to atleast cover half of Jimin's electricity bill) and sees the numerous faces walking the red carpet, recognizing some of them yet not really all that amazed.
"Mhmm, they really need to pack it in with a sponge. That's gonna take a lot of pressure, especially with the layers they'd need."
He sees people walking left and right and Yoongi's struggling to find interest within it all, only keeping his eyes on the screen to look out for Soyeon because he wants to dish in it too.
His eyesight's clear without the need for prescription glasses yet he feels as if he's being deceived by his own self, unsure if he's even happy to have quite such the skill to spot you in a crowd.
"Is that Y/N?"
The words tumble out of his mouth before he could contain them and he finds himself standing immediately to get closer to the screen, making Jimin fumble for his glasses and do the same.
It's not before Jimin cusses and jabs his finger to the screen that he realizes that it's unmistakably you. It truly couldn't be anyone else and seeing the person right beside you, as much as Yoongi wouldn't want to see him, he's certain that it's you and not anyone else.
"Holy shit."
Jimin's voice borders surprise but he's not in disbelief. He's laughing and chuckling to himself while Yoongi just stays rooted to his position, mouth dry and eyes glazed at the same time.
It's truly you and you're gorgeous in your gown that's silky yet glitters underneath the light. It's clear that you own it right away with how Yoongi knows no one could even come close to giving it the same justice as you.
You're dashing even if the livestream isn't the clearest and it's when you walk away from the red carpet that he's reminded of who you're with, the guy he's seen before wearing a suit that fits the theme of what adorns your body.
"Taehyung's her ex-boyfriend, right?" Yoongi clears his throat and crosses his arms, looking down on his feet as he retreats back to the couch. "What's she doing there with him?"
Jimin looks as shocked as Yoongi is but he doesn't feel conflicted at all. Unlike him, his mind's at peace and it isn't straying to the fact that you're with your ex-boyfriend in a gala that's filled with prying eyes and with no context at all.
Yoongi's no stranger at all to the public eye but something in his stomach just churns that in the first moment you're out there, it had to be with Kim Taehyung the model — Kim Taehyung, the ex-boyfriend.
"I don't know, she told me at first that she wasn't sure if she'd be accompanying him."
And it's true that you've mentioned it in passing to Jimin as you asked him if he knew of any shops with gowns that wouldn't break the bank, with its main purpose only for you to serve as a plus one.
"You knew?" he asks his friend and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth because he feels like he's the only one who didn't expect you to be there. "You knew that he asked her out?"
Jimin realizes the gravity of the situation but he knows there's no real heat to the inquiry behind Yoongi's wavering voice, avoiding his gaze as he plops himself back to the couch.
"Asked her out to be a plus one... yeah."
"Great," he nods once, looking down on his beer that's just as bitter as he is. "That's great."
It's a tense silence that engulfs them both and Jimin, clearly the one who's suffocating in it, doesn't even know his way out. He's just about to add in a little explanation of how he came to know but he's interrupted before he even gets to open his mouth.
"You know this Taehyung guy?"
Yoongi looks at his knees and he doesn't realize that he's bouncing one, drumming his fingers on his thigh in a tune he can't place.
"Not much, but yeah. She introduced him to me before she introduced him to her parents."
Jimin's only attention in adding the last bit was his fondness because you trusted him enough to be the first of your loved ones to know, warming at the thought that he matters to you in such a way.
But god, in the way Yoongi seems to even dive deeper into his blooming insecurities, he wishes he hadn't.
"Does the press know? Do his fans — do people know?" his voice hushes, "do they know that they're exes?"
It's a valid question born out of curiosity. Anyone who knows you and Taehyung remotely would dare to ask.
"Not sure. They dated even before Taehyung got famous," Jimin somberly answers, meekly scratching the back of his ear. "But after this appearance? I'm sure it won't be long before someone digs something up."
It's a coarse silence that even the bitterness of the beer Jimin kept in stock at his fridge isn't enough to corrode it. All he sees and feels is Yoongi who keeps looking at his hands, his unsureness towards himself reeking.
"Right. Of course."
Yoongi brings his phone and texts you silently when Jimin's attention gets whisked away with Soyeon's appearance on the red carpet, only taking a brief look to see that the bruising on her nose wasn't color-corrected at all.
He thinks little of his dignity because he figures that none would be deducted from him at this point, seeing to it that he's compromising on asking you out even if it's not exclusive to only the two of you.
"Are you free tonight? I'm with Jimin right now and I cooked dinner enough for three. Come hang out :)"
He looks at the screen and Jimin, oblivious to his turmoil, points to where you are at the screen. You're already out of the red carpet but you're visible nonetheless with the wide-angle view of the livestream.
Yoongi could only wait.
You're buzzing with unknown adrenaline from having so many people's attention to you all at once that your shoulders sag in relief once you and Taehyung exited the stream of flashes, the puff of fresh air without being crowded by dozens of media in front of you hitting especially.
"You're my hero," Tae sighs in relief as he puts his hand on the small of your back, "and my hero's phone vibrates so loud that it's making my knee tremble."
He pulls out your phone from his pocket because the free clutch that came with your dress could barely fit your hand, handing you the device from the roomy pocket of his dress pants.
Apparently, you're now his hero because you agreed when called you desperately in need. His manager was forcing him to get a plus-one to the event and coincidentally, you were the first person Tae thought of.
He didn't want to be linked to yet another rumor and he instead just decided to call you in hopes you would agree, even if it was a gigantic favor he was asking from you. You're low-key and unproblematic and most important of all, he's comfortable with you! He didn't want to spend the night of what seems to be an important gala with someone he barely knows.
You're his ex (but they don't need to know) and what someone could say a close friend. It's wholesome. It's heartwarming. Warrants no unnecessary hounding from the press.
You open your phone and Yoongi's text is the first thing that greets you. It's sudden and you don't know what to make of it that you even subtly try to look around to see if he's here somewhere, regardless if he's with his ex-wife or not.
It throws you off your rhythm for a short while but you recover, typing in a quick reply before you shove your phone back to Tae's pocket.
Yoongi watches the livestream until he feels his phone vibrate, sinking into the cushions right when he sees the last sliver of you before the stream was taken down due to a report.
"can't :( i'm doing grocery shopping rn"
( ♡ )
There's a weight on Yoongi's chest that he can't put off.
It's a weight on his chest that he can't remove and it comes in the form of the questions that he formulates inside his head, already out in the open since he can no longer keep them burrowed.
He asks it with little to no urgency, honestly. He's curious but it's in the definition of defeat — asking Jimin as his last resort.
"Why did you not do anything when you knew that Y/N had a crush on me?"
The two of you knew Jimin as someone who had a knack for meddling; meddling in the definition of just teasing the boundary yet not actually intervening. It was his way of reminding the other that he knows it's there and although he won't exactly do anything, it doesn't mean that he's clueless.
In all honesty, Jimin's a little choked up at the question because first of all, he's still surprised that Yoongi came into work because he's figured that since last night of you being involved with Taehyung, he needed a breather of some sort.
Although Yoongi doesn't meet his eyes, Jimin knows he's no longer dancing around the topic. No longer dancing around the subject of you because it's out in the open that he wants you and is hurting.
"It's conflicting on my part. I kinda always wanted to play cupid for the day Y/N had like a legitimately huge crush," his voice gets sheepish, "but when I learned that it's you, I uh, I just didn't know what to do or how that would even go."
Yoongi understands it — not fully, but he does have the faintest grasp.
"Is it because of Jihye?"
"Yeah, kind of like that too," he swallows because if he thinks just far enough, he'd recall the day when he stood as best man at his friend's wedding, never having anticipated that Yoongi would end up loving someone he's closely familiar with all this time. "I just wasn't sure that you'd like her back so with me being neutral, in a way, I'd get to save you from the inconvenience and save Y/N from the heartbreak."
The wording is what makes Yoongi look up, his eyebrows furrowing in genuine confusion as he corrects him.
"Y/N's not an inconvenience to me."
He says it with much sternness and he internalizes it in entirety because it is true. You're the furthest thing away from being an inconvenience to him and it's only now that he realizes how he's made you feel like it in the start.
In a way, Yoongi loathes himself because he didn't take the time to look at you for a second longer.
He didn't allow himself to feel the warmth of the coffee you used to give him every morning for a second longer than necessary, and he didn't even utter a single thanks whenever you'd give him what he requested of you.
It hits him in a way he can't explain because as he peers down on the article on his phone, the very one with you and Taehyung in the thumbnail, his arm felt like giving out when he showed it to Jimin.
HE'S GLOWING: How could Kim Taehyung not when his mystery plus-one is the humblest yet brightest in the room?
Jimin's mouth dries when he sees the fuel to Yoongi's insecurities in the form of an article, skimming past the words before he hands it back to him with the screen turned down.
"Did they make a good couple?" Yoongi pipes in, simply curious with no malice behind his question. "They fit right together, don't they?"
Although Jimin already turned off his phone, he finds himself turning it back on again, being met with the thumbnail that glares at him in high-definition.
He sees Taehyung's hand around your waist and he realizes that it's probably because he's slotted it around too many times before that it feels like muscle memory to do so.
That Taehyung's hand probably made a home out of your waist and takes solace in everything else because after all, you have a history that's undeniable.
You have a history and you're still with him in a way, even if it's not of a lover's concern.
"Yoongs, don't do that."
Jimin scolds him the longer he looks at his phone to the point that he's snatched it out of his grasp, no longer wanting to see his friend bring himself down.
He allows it, staying silent. "Namjoon's in cardiology, right?" he thinks of the familiar face he's seen a couple of times when they were still serving in the hospital. Jimin nods mindlessly but he didn't expect an answer directly.
"Good. I need him to make all these pains stop."
Yoongi thinks it's pathetic of him that there's tears forming at the corners of his eyes, thinks it's even more pathetic that he doesn't even try choking them back down.
"Do you think Y/N will like me back?"
"Yoongi."
He exhales at the sound of his name, nodding to himself before he goes out of the room because his large office seems to close down on him. "You're right. I shouldn't ask. I'm putting you in a tough spot by doing that."
He leaves even before Jimin can squeak, the words he couldn't utter because the one who was supposed to hear them is already put. Yeah. I do think Y/N will like you back.
Yoongi's been working in a daze the whole morning that he breezes through clients and doesn't even realize it. All he knows is that he feels overwhelmingly small and unlike himself and he couldn't bring himself out of it.
It's been his habit to go to the breakroom to linger around you that regardless if you were in there or not, he'd stay there during lunchbreak instead of eating out. His lunch routine would be ordering in and getting you your own meal.
It's engraved into his mind to the point that he barely realizes that when he goes to brew his second coffee of the day, you're already sat on the couch — only sinking in that you were there when he hears you muttering to yourself.
"Hi, Dr. Min."
His mouth is slightly agape to see that you've been there the whole time, bringing down his mug as he acknowledges that you're alone in the room with him.
But the words form on their own accord, and he means it wholeheartedly.
"You looked pretty last night."
To say that you're shocked would be an understatement because you gulp before you know it, eyes widening in realization.
"H-how did you-"
"Jimin gave a rhinoplasty to one of the attendees just a week ago and he wanted to have an I told you so moment with the bruising and all that," he easily explains, giving his coffee an extra stir. "You're also kind of in articles."
"I am?" your head tilts in confusion of why there'd even be articles about you in the first place, the individual you accompanied enough of a reminder to make it dawn on you. "Oh, right. Taehyung told me that would happen."
Dr. Min merely smiles in reply and the lack of a retort keeps you alert, unused to the calm look on his face especially after the mention of Taehyung's name.
You twiddle your thumbs together and the sight of Yoongi like this undoubtedly worries you, the urge to get to the bottom of it overpowering you.
"Are you mad?"
"Why would I be mad at you?"
Yoongi chuckles at the ridiculous question, the abruptness of it enough to make him amused.
"Because I lied to you," you piece together the text he sent you out of office hours, right when you were out of the red carpet. You didn't question it at first but now it boggles your mind, the slightest bit of guilt being planted at the back of your mind.
He shakes his head no, sincerely meaning his sentiment that he isn't mad at you at all.
"You're not indebted to me. You can do whatever you want, I have no right to be mad."
He thinks about how the article's right and how he barely even focused on anyone else that attended just because whoever wrote it knows just how much you shone that night.
He's lost in his thoughts but he keeps stirring his coffee in the corner until there's bubbles at the top with how much he's been doing it, giving you your space.
"Are you upset?"
The question leaves you before you can even process it and oddly enough, you don't regret asking.
"I am," he admits, "but I shouldn't be."
Yoongi has a weight on his chest and he doesn't know how to relieve it at all. He doesn't know how to move around it nor how it even got there in the first place but his palms move automatically, digging into his eyes as he inhales shakily.
"I'm sorry for springing all this to you. God, why am I even sniffling? Sorry, my mind's just a little cloudy right now."
The sight of him being distraught tugs at your heartstrings in a way you've never felt before, a whimper bubbling at the back of your throat.
Yoongi gathers himself enough, just enough to utter his own words without his voice wavering or his eyes watering.
"Please let me down gently."
He knows he basically has no hope at all and he's really trying to come into terms with it. He deserves the pain, he thinks. He's selfish, that much he's sure of, but he pleads that this would be his last time being selfish as long as once you reject him for the final time — it'd be gentle.
"I haven't used my last chance yet and I don't want to expect anything but please, if you're gonna reject me," and the bitter part of his brain thinks you really should, "please go easy on me."
It's a watery silence between the two of you, only being broken when you can't hold yourself back for much longer.
"I haven't used my last chance either," your voice alone brings Yoongi back down, piquing his undivided attention while he tries to make sense of your words. "Do you wanna grab lunch with me right now? Just down the street."
Yoongi's breathless once he realizes the weight of your words, a sudden clarity to his gaze that he nods surely.
"Of course I would."
His voice is still croaky but he clears it to the best that he can, rocking himself back and forth with his feet in place.
It all feels too real when it's just the two of you alone in the breakroom, only a few feet apart but just as close in intention.
"Dinner later? I bought new pots and pans just last week."
The interjection of him using up his last chance to somehow sneak in there that he has new kitchenware makes you giggle, nodding eagerly.
"I'd love that."
"O-okay."
Yoongi knows that he's abandoned his coffee long before he even realized you were in the room, putting his hands at his back as he sheepishly looks at you for what exactly you're going to do next.
"Lunch?"
It's nice. It's more than nice to walk out together side by side. You're toeing around each other when it's clear that the both of you've attempted to cross the boundary for ten times combined, yielding to each other at the last try.
Yoongi tries not to trip on his feet but his eyes widen just the same when he realizes that people are walking with coats and you're not as toasty warm as you'd like with the heating of the clinic, his hands fumbling to make action.
He shrugs off his white coat and stops you at the middle of the street to put it on you because merely draping it on you wouldn't do much justice.
"I don't want you to shiver."
He explains without meeting your eyes but he knows there's warm smile that's been established already, shoving his hands to his pockets as he clenches them out of excitement for yet another tiny victory.
Yoongi feels your hand on his arm, making him peer at you with a curious gaze but he tries not to breathe at all as he walks, too enamored with the way he feels secure.
— summary: You never expected that you would end up adopting a hybrid, and if someone had told you that you would end up with seven? Well, you would have thought they were crazy. But here you are, with three different packs of hybrids that don’t get along – but all want to stay with you. Yeah, it turns out crazy is an understatement.
— pairing: hybrid bts x human f!reader
— genre: fluff, angst, smut
— word count: 6.5k
— tag list: here (the tag list is closed/full!)
Part: I / II / III / IV / V / VI / VII / VIII / IX / X / XI / Find more chapters here!
“Guys…” You whine.
Your voice is muffled by the loud purrs and soft growls surrounding you, the two packs trapping you beneath a pile of limbs and tails that refuse to move. The moment you even attempt to twitch your arm Hoseok only clings on to it tighter, not allowing you to budge an inch from the bed.
On your left, Jimin presses his nose against your throat, thoroughly working to cover the overpowering scent Seokjin and Jeongguk left behind. He lets out a low hiss when the touch makes you flinch, your neck tender and sore despite the ice packs you tried to cool them with the night before. The cat hybrid places fluttering kisses on your skin in apology, his chest rumbling with discontent. He silently curses the preys in his head as he moves his gentle lips across your neck, miffed that he can’t properly mark you without causing you discomfort.
You tilt your head easily when he nudges your throat, his soft hair tickling your cheek as he carefully kisses his way closer to the back of your neck. Jimin suddenly stills as he reaches a specific point beneath your ear, the sharp intake of air making you nervous as the cat hybrid’s body grows tense. It dawns on you a little too late what he’s picking up on, your lips parting to explain just as Jimin’s head snaps up from your neck, his dark eyes finding Taehyung’s across the bed as he bites, ”Why does she smell like you?”
Summary: Twenty-year old L/N Y/N realizes she might be, okay, is a little bit of a social pariah. But there’s not much she can really do about it. Until a dreary winter day, when a determined, persistent dog hybrid named Taehyung shows up and declares that he’s interested in adopting her for himself and the rest of his lonely pack.
chapter: two
Word Count: 4.3k+
rating: T (Taehyung is a little clingy in this chapter haha, but no real warnings)
genre: romance | hurt/comfort| magic AU
tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly| FM!reader
Emperor Penguin!Seokjin, Golden Retriever!Taehyung, Coyote!Hoseok, Mountain Lion!Yoongi, Wolfdog!Namjoon, Kingfisher!Jimin, Holland Lop!Jungkook
Ch.1
Tag list: @colourlyhobbit @ghostkat23 @bunzom @juju-227592 @mochimommy2002
Author’s Note: Omg thank you!! 😭 As I mentioned last update, this is my first attempt at a (Y/N) fic and it was largely because I thought this would be a one-shot (sike, joke’s on me there). 🥲 But it’ll now have several parts. Not sure how many, but enough for everyone’s hearts to start mending. I hope the tag list includes everyone who asked. I was hesitant about doing one mostly because I was 1) not sure if this would even be long enough for one 2) was nervous I would miss someone or forget. It’s just my personal recommendation, so feel free to ignore it, but I think that ‘Rainbow’ by Kacey Musgraves pairs really well with this story!
The temperature had definitely dropped, (Y/N) decided, trying to bring feeling back into her fingertips. The dog (hybrid?) she was following dutifully trotted through the falling snow, his paws crunching lightly.
The weather didn’t seem to bother him at all, lucky pup. Meanwhile, (Y/N) was growing increasingly envious of his warm looking coat, clutching her thin sweater tighter to her body, and wondering why she hadn’t thought to put on a few extra layers.
Sure, the morning weather report said snow and a temperature drop was unlikely for the day, but never ruled it out. And really, her father always did tell her it was better to be over-prepared than left without in a pinch. She was finding this out the hard way right now.
Although the trail was lit, she was still having some trouble navigating as the snow kept falling, never having walked this far down the winding path. The dog had been good about staying right at her side in the beginning. Then his pace got a bit more brisk, and (Y/N) watched him take the lead, only his unmistakable tail guiding her along.
Pulling out her phone, she turned on the light and kept it trained on the canine, silently hoping there wasn’t too much further to go. She was in pretty decent physical shape due to the nature of her job—chasing down a flock of moody peacocks through a large botanical garden or even hiking uphill through the woods to find out why normally reserved wildlife was journeying into the suburbs and acting aggressively toward humans tended to do that for you—but it was getting pretty late. After finding out if and how she could help this dog, it would be time to head home.
A rather gloomy thought crossed her mind, the empty apartment waiting for her, the leftover pasta in the fridge. She had no roommate, no partner, no pet. (Y/N) came back, cooked herself dinner, indulged in a k-drama or game show, and had her nightly call with her dad.
Sometimes, a friend from high school would take pity and invite her out for drinks. Grateful as she was that she had people who tried to include her, (Y/N) knew she was killing the mood. She wasn’t as chatty in discussions as she used to be, always fidgeting, sipping at her beer and excusing herself a little early with the excuse of work the next morning.
+ summary . . . in which you and jungkook have one night stands with roommates and happen to be sneaking out at the same time.
+ genre . . . smut, fluff
+ wordcount . . . 7.9k
+ warnings . . . don't be fooled by the first half being fluff lmao; rough sex, a lot of dirty talk (jk will not shut up), heavy degradation (use of ‘slut’, 'whore', etc.), consensual slut-shaming (reader is into it), exhibitionism, cumplay, cum swallowing, unprotected sex, breeding kink, reader gets tied up at one point
Most mornings arrived like a lover’s gentle touch, beguiling the horizon’s rays to surface with a golden grace; yours, however, often arrived with an acute headache, nausea, and the race to gather your clothes and dip before your one-night stand roused from snore-filled slumber. Though short was the list of things worse than hangovers, the dreaded walk of shame was often far more perilous with its intricacies and social hazards.
Between tossed beer cans and workout gear was a Chewbacca-themed alarm clock ticking away the minutes until it would wake its owner with a recorded growl. You, still in disbelief you had slept with a man with Star Wars paraphernalia, quickened your pace.
Some would call you tactless, but you were simply realistic. What else could come out of meaningless breakfast offers and forced conversations if not minutes wasted on both ends?
By the time you had wiped your face clean and thrown the prior night’s clothes over your head, the sun had arced through the sky with an obstination better suited for the winter months. For it was not the light that had awoken you, but the quiet rumble of steps falling down staircases as those who lived in the party house began their morning clean-up.
This, you’d argue, was the worst part of falling asleep after a hook-up: avoiding the ‘walk of shame’.
And it appeared as if you weren’t the only one facing this conundrum.
You opened the door to see a figure lurked near the hallway’s end, fluffy hair peeking at the crowded living room. The young man stuck close to the wall as if he were one with it, desperate to remain hidden. His coffee-colored eyes scanned the scene as if envisioning a multitude of escape routes and calculating their likelihood of success. His frown said that he wasn’t too pleased with the conclusion.
The sigh was a familiar one – one that had been directed towards you one too many times.
“Jungkook?”
His shoulders jumped as if he were the hare to your fox, fight or flight senses kicking in at your abrupt arrival.
Jeon Jungkook. Captain of the debate team, frequent charity donor, homework answer sharer, your seatmate, and the last person you’d ever expect to encounter on a Sunday morning.
His neck, besmeared with an array of violent hickeys, whipped towards your standing figure. He shushed you with a finger to his pink lips – an image you’d seen whenever you would bother him with useless remarks in the middle of a lecture.
You crept beside him, crouched to copy his pose. Though you nodded, your mind meandered yonder. The Jeon Jungkook you knew from History and the Jeon Jungkook who wore beer-stained Hawaiian polos appeared as two separate entities. One you were familiar with, the other you were unsure of.
He fixed his hands through his hair and buttoned his shirt higher, clearing his throat with a demure smile better suited for school hallways than sticky trash-covered floors. “Hey, you,” his voice cracked, causing the ‘you’ to sound like two words smashed together.
“What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean?” His brows raised as if the answer hadn’t been right in front you – which it had been, in the form of violet blotches and scratch marks across his sun-blessed skin.
“Did you trip down the stairs and pass out?” You half-joked. It was arduous to imagine how the teacher’s pet who did algebra for fun could find himself in the same spot you were in. ‘It’s relaxing!’ He’d argue, before timing himself on his Samsung’s stopwatch and beginning another worksheet while waiting for the professor. You were more inclined to believe the scratch marks had come from some cat Jungkook had pet-sat than someone he had fucked a room across yours.
His doe eyes grew, as if both offended and bewildered. “Do you seriously not-” The approaching sound of steps slashed his sentence short.
They must’ve been done cleaning the living room – which meant they were heading straight towards you.
Jungkook had always been quick to raise his hand during lectures. It was as if he was in constant competition with himself, as no one else bothered. And his answers were always right.
You weren’t sure if this one was; not when he nearly dislocated your shoulder dragging you up to a stand, and especially not when he shoved the pair of you into the nearest room.
With the precision of a bomb defuser, he closed the oak door as silently as his sweaty palms could.
“Jungkook, what-”
He pressed the rough pad of his fingertip to your lips.
Imprisoned within the cage of your ribs, a nestled heart thud.
This was the closest you’d ever been to him.
In the dim room, light fragments leaked from the doorframe’s gaps and highlighted his face in soft shades. You thought about sunlight: how it travelled at a nearly instantaneous speed, how distant it journeyed if only to linger on him, and how, in its earliest hours, it turned Jungkook’s brown eyes into honey.
This close, you felt more than heard the pace of his breathing; the warm air caressed your forehead as he leant past you to make sure the door was shut.
The silence allowed you to observe the room you had been pulled into, though you found it to be less of a room than you’d given it credit for. While the floor and lower shelves were crammed with an assortment of shoeboxes and house slippers, the upper half was littered with winter coats and gear. In the limited space, you could hardly exhale without your chest touching his.
It was a closet. Jungkook, in his panic, had trapped you both in a closet.
Beyond the door was the loud banter and cacophony of people as they cleaned up the prior night’s apocalyptic aftermath. Crushed plastic cups. Mops against floors. Changed bed sheets.
The two of you waited. A minute passed. Then, another. And another. They continued to clean the area outside where you hid, each too-close step causing him to flinch.
Whether it be his proximity or your ennui, you could no longer take it.
“Okay, you might have a problem with being seen but I don’t.” Your movement stirred a response from his then rigid frame. He had to maintain his golden boy reputation, after all. You, contrarily, had no notoriety of which you were caged by. The general population didn’t care about you the way they did Jungkook. The simple miracle of him attending a party would already be made a spectacle by Monday.
He reached for your wrist as you clutched the doorknob. His pout (which was horrendously endearing) compelled you to pause. “Please.” He kept your gaze, as if it were an insurmountable fact that one didn’t go against his wishes when faced with such a guise. You loathed how he was right.
“Fine, at least entertain me,” you whispered. Already, he looked as if he regretted not letting you go. “I’ve never seen you at a party before. Didn’t think you were the type to hook-up.”
You’d expected him to flush at your confrontational assumption, rather than the raised brow and head tilt you were met with. “And why’s that?”
“Because you’re so… you.” At his look did you shrug, rattled mind settling for the first adjective it thought of. “You’re cute.”
“Cute?”
“What? It’s a compliment.” You pat his head.
“What am I? A dog?” He huffed, blown air inflating his cheeks. He swatted your hands away and crossed his arms. You didn’t think it was a good time to point out how, in that moment, he very much looked like the kicked puppy he tried not to be. “You know, I’m not as innocent as you think I am.”
“Evidently not,” you said. “Or you wouldn’t be here, stuck in a closet with me, sneaking out after a one night stand.”
“Who said anything about a one night stand?”
Your brow raised. “You have a partner?”
The dark did little to conceal the crimson burn of his cheeks and ears. “No, but I’m just saying. I hypothetically could have one. You don’t know me.”
“We’ve been seatmates for five months, Jungkook.”
“And not once have we actually talked.”
“Unless I’ve been talking to your secret twin, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“You complaining about our prof everytime she gives out an assignment isn’t a conversation.”
“Only because you’re a teacher’s pet.” You huffed. While he might not have appreciated your circadian quips, you didn’t think it was the worst seatmate bonding time. “Which brings me to my next question: why’d you go last night?”
“I can’t go to parties like a regular college student just because I’m me?”
You sent him a pointed look because, yes, you didn’t think he went to parties like a regular college student. While you might not have known what he got up to during his free time (seeing as he didn’t have social media), you were certain that none of it involved vomiting in his grandmother's antique vase after declining a three-way with his dealer and her boyfriend – something that has totally never happened to you.
“What?” he whined.
“Who’s the lucky person that managed to drag the golden boy away from his studies?” If you were sure of anything, it was this: infatuation led people to the most unexpected of places. For what other reason would you stay entrapped in a closet with a man in a Hawaiian polo?
His hair, as wavy as a stygian sea, bounced as he shook his head.
“If you don’t tell me, I might accidentally start speaking too loudly,” you teased, voice rising in volume.
Panicked, he placed his palm over your lips. “Keep your voice to a whisper.” He sighed, relenting. “I… I came last night because I wanted to see you.”
You blinked.
“To see me?”
His bunny teeth gnawed his lip. “I’ve always thought you were kinda cool.” His hands rose to cover his overheated ears. “C’mon, you definitely know I like you. I always act like such an idiot around you.”
You didn’t know. How could you have possibly known when he never spared you a second glance?
Reading your disbelief, he continued. “You don’t remember the notepad incident?”
The cogs in your brain turned until a memory snapped to the surface; one of him leaving his desk unattended during lecture, and you ruffling through his post-it notes out of boredom (because for reasons unknown to you, he had dozens in numerous colors). What you weren’t expecting to find were short letters—if they could even be called that—written in the backs of them. They talked about infatuation and the art of unrequited passion, thoughts you’d never associated Jungkook to having. So engrossed in their messages, you hadn’t realized when he had come back. “Who’s this about?” you had asked him as he swiped his stationary back from you, face flushed.
“You said it was poetry.”
He groaned. “What about all the times I let you copy off my homework?”
“I thought you were just being nice!”
Jungkook pouted, his foot softly stomping in frustration at your idiocy. “I’m not that nice.”
“Then why didn’t you approach me?” You hadn’t seen him the entire night.
He took a step back. “You were… busy.”
“Oh.” Your stomach dropped. “Jungkook, I-”
“No, no,” he panicked. “You don’t have to explain yourself, you don’t owe me anything. Seriously.”
“But I still feel bad.”
“Well, don’t, it’s not like I didn’t… yeah.”
“Well, the past is the past.” You forced him to meet your eyes with a tug of his chin. “We can always make up for lost time.”
His adam’s apple bobbed. “What?”
Your hands trailed his arms, surprised at the hard muscle. He shivered as you blew on his ear. “I’ve always thought you were cute, too.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yes, really,” you giggled. “You don’t think I have good taste?”
“If you did, I would’ve fucked you last night.”
You liked this bolder Jungkook. The one who met your gaze rather than shied from it.
“Well, if you had approached me, maybe you would have.” Your hands trailed his chest. “But we can always do it now.”
“What? Now? There are people outside.” His words supposed one thing but the hands resting on your hips said another.
“Should’ve thought of that before you dragged me in here.”
He curled inwards. “Sorry about that, by the way. I panicked.”
“Yeah, I could tell.” You pressed against his chest. The rise of his heartbeat drummed against your skin. “But if you hadn’t then I wouldn’t have been able to do this.”
The back of your hand grazed his crotch.
The teasing motion awoke in him something you had yet to see. His eyes darkened as he took a step closer to you, hands spread against the door behind you. He trapped you between his arms, his breath cascading across your skin. So slowly did he lean in that your wrist’s pulse began to tick like clockwork, as if it too were counting the seconds until he closed the gap.
When he did, you were knocked breathless.
His kiss was rough, not at all like the way he pressed against you. It was soft and passionate. Strange yet comfortable. Everything and nothing like you’d expected from this Jungkook.
Your hands ran through his hair, tangled in its softness. He tasted like mouthwash and smelled like baby power. He was the definition of intoxication, and you were content to be engulfed in his waters.
Pushing his hair from his eyes, he used his other hand to drag you closer to the center of his storm, the music of lips against lips a resounding orchestra. His giggles as you touched his neck were just as melodious as he wrapped his arms around your waist as if the closet were a ballroom and you were its guests.
There was no need for violas or harps, not when he pressed against you in harmonic promises. Soft groans fell from his lips faster than wisps of smoke dissipating after a lit candle had been extinguished. More than the fear of getting caught, you thought of the pressure of his hand on your back and his nose touching yours. You’d lost count of the times you had stepped on Jungkook's feet in the dark but his smile never dulled. He was the sun to whom you’d risk lighting yourself ablaze for even just a moment of his warmth.
In the eye of the storm, you were but a bird, flailing about until you could take off with outstretched wings and storm-swept feathers. You had taken care of a bird just like that in your adolescence, young and injured. You nursed it to health until its wings could carry its weight across the ether canvas. The next day, you’d seen a pack of hunting dogs and feathers across the field. You never took care of another wounded bird again.
You wondered if that were you, rising only to fall. It’d been years, yet the memory lingered. Would he only stay for as long as you were risen or would he be the genesis of your undoing?
Jungkook was infamous for all the wrong things yet loved for all the right ones. He was smart, diligent, outgoing – but he was also awkward, arrogant, and obsessive, only caring about his grades even if it meant putting his peers down and eating alone at breaks. He did internships and extracurriculars all day and studied until the break of dawn, but with every second that his rare attention was spent on you, your delusions that he was telling the truth about liking you grew bigger and bigger.
You were aware of all of this and still you fell into the depths of his being so completely that to let go of him would be to drown and never resurface. You didn’t believe that it was his intention to be so beguiling, but it didn’t stop him from entrapping you in the net that you had crafted yourself.
He liked you. Three words, he had said. Three beautiful words. When he looked at you like you were the answer to every question he had been asking the universe all his life, how were you supposed to want to let go? He said it once more against your lips. Then twice. Then thrice, until you no longer cared if you’d wake up the next day and find that only feathers remained. And so, you said those three words back, even if it would be the cause of your ruin.
You had no want for his reaction to your scarce genuinity. So when he inched away to confirm that he hadn’t misheard you, you pressed against him harder. “Did you-”
“Shut up,” you were quick to reply.
His tongue slipped between your lips. He sucked on the muscle as his once shy hands roamed behind you, squeezing your ass. Motivated by your soft groans, he ground his crotch against your front.
“I want you to fuck me,” you panted into his open mouth.
For a second, he stilled, as if shocked by the bluntness in which your words pierced him.
“You want that?” he tested the waters, resuming your kiss.
But you were impatient. “Please, Jungkook.”
“You really want our first time to be in a closet where anyone could hear us?”
“Yes,” you said. You wanted it. Needed it. “You could fuck me anywhere, I just need your cock in me now.”
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” he groaned, unable to stop the jerking of his hips against you.
You smirked against his lips. “Really? Never thought my innocent little seatmate would be into this sort of thing.”
His eyes narrowed. “You really want me to prove it to you, huh?”
You played along. “I really don’t know what you mean.”
“You want me to treat you like the slut you are?” he teased. You shook, putty under his words. “You’re really sure?”
The dark rings in his eyes softened as he waited for your consent. His hands caressed the outside of your arms with a gentleness so sudden it gave you whiplash. Not that you needed his forbearance.
“Please, Jungkook, I want it.”
The heat between you returned at your panted answer. “You like being called what you are, huh?” The tone of his whisper made his voice that much more provocative.
“If I’m a slut, then what are you?” You eyed the marks on his neck with a grin.
He laughed as he dragged against your clothed core. His lips hovered over your own, smirking as you chased it when he pulled away. “You talk too much.” He tapped two fingers against your bottom lip. “Real sluts know what to do when I do this, don’t they?”
He pressed you harder against the door with his hips as you began to suck on his fingers. You had half a mind to tease him as he had teased you, but you had never been a patient person. Your tongue slobbered all over his digits as spit fell down your chin and onto your chest. You sucked and sucked; it rolled in your mouth the way you wanted to do to the cock rubbed against you. You humped him like a bitch in heat as his fingers reached as deep as they could in your mouth, trying to locate the spot that would make you gag.
He smirked at the sound when he found it. “Can’t even take my fingers? How is my cock ever going to fuck your warm throat?” His unoccupied hand applied pressure around your neck. You gasped at the new feeling and the delicious lightheadedness that came with it.
“Filthy slut, fucking some guy you barely know when you know I like you?” He grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to keep eye contact with him. “Had to watch you act like a dumb whore just for some cock when you could’ve had mine so easily, baby. I had to fuck some random chick because of how hard your little outfit made me.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his clothed crotch. “You feel how hard I am? This is all for you.” He sighed. “Whoring yourself out for some other guy and not even offering me your services? I’m disappointed in you.”
The prior night had been a drunken blur, and you could barely recall how you grinded against the stranger you’d spent the evening with. Apparently, he had seen it all; how that other man had almost fucked you in the middle of the dance floor, lips pressed against your neck, fingers pinching your nipples through your top.
Jungkook grabbed your face. He squished your cheeks together until your mouth opened. His tongue swirled in his mouth to collect his spit. “Say ‘ah’,” he cooed, before dripping his saliva down your throat. He used his thumb to push back the bits of it that leaked from the corner of your lips. “Swallow.”
Your body burned as you swallowed both your pride and his fluids. He pried open your mouth after he watched your throat bob to ensure you had swallowed every last drop. “Messy slut,” he degraded.
His lips collided with yours once more. A nasty, wet kiss, that left your toes curling and lower stomach fluttering. He sucked on the skin all around your face, dragging his tongue back and forth as if claiming ownership over you in the messiest way possible. He suctioned his way to your collarbone, only stopping to help you out of your top.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he groaned. “I’ve jerked off to you so many times – even when I was fucking someone else last night, I thought of you. Do you know how difficult it was not to moan your name? I can’t believe I finally get to taste you.”
“But I wanna taste you first.” You pushed him away to unbutton his shirt.
His defined abs were a surprise in itself, but they weren’t what caused you to gasp.
“Okay, I know now that you’re not my innocent little classmate, but I didn’t expect this.”
‘This’ being the two metal rods pierced through his nipples.
He snorted at your genuine reaction. “Yeah, yeah, geek in the streets, freak in the sheets,” he said. “Now, suck.”
You didn’t need his command to lower your head and place his pierced nipple between your lips. You lapped at the left peak, the cool metal resting on your tongue.
He only bothered to unbutton and lift his pants low enough to free his cock. It bounced against his stomach, rockhard and covered with pre-cum.
Jungkook was huge. And he knew it.
“You’re…” There were millions of words in the dictionary, yet none could describe how wanton he left you feeling. His hands gripped the base and tapped it against his stomach. A droplet of cum leaked down the side, and it took all your mental strength not to drop to your knees right then. “Can I please suck your cock?”
He pet your head. “You’re only an obedient puppy when you want something, hm? Bet you say that to all the other guys you whore yourself out to.”
He pushed on you until you fell to your knees. You kept your gaze on how he licked his lips and looked down on you, though it was difficult when his large cock swang near you like a meal to the starved. He slapped his dick around your cheeks and forehead, his pre-cum rubbing across your closed eyelids to your chin. He avoided your lips.
You thought yourself akin to Tantalus, a man cursed by Zeus to stand in a pool of water beneath a fruit tree with low branches; when he’d go to drink, the water would recede, and when he went to eat, the branch moved out of reach.
“How badly do you want my cock in your dumb whore mouth?”
“More than anything.” Your hands tightened around his thighs. He still wore all his clothes, and the image was as teasing as the cock he continued to slap you with. “Only need you.”
“Oh, I know that, baby,” he said. “The question is whether you’re a good enough whore to deserve it.”
“Please let this whore suck your large cock,” you begged, taking a page from his book and staring up at him with puppy-dog eyes, mewling against his leg. “I’m just a dumb bimbo willing to do anything for cock.”
He, finally, tapped his length against your lips. You waited for his command before you licked the head, scared he’d retreat if you didn’t obey him.
“Open,” he said. A word you’d never been happier to hear.
Prepared now for his length, you held in your need to gag as you slid him down. His brow raised, impressed. “You must’ve taken a lot of cock down this throat, you’re too good at this.”
Deeper and deeper, he went. You winked when your lips met the base of it.
“You’re too fucking good, bet you have a line of guys dreaming about your pretty lips wrapped around them.” His hand pushed and pulled you harder, treating you as nothing more than a toy thats only purpose was to suck cock. “Do you know how my friends talk about you? They think you’re so pretty, baby. I can’t even blame them for talking about how much they wanna fuck you. Turn you into their cockslut. They’re so jealous that I get to see your cute face everyday. Of course, it’s not only your face that I look at.”
With the way your arousal increased with his every thrust, it was as if your mouth was connected to your hole.
The room filled with his heavy breathing. He bit his fist to keep quiet, conscious of the noise that continued to permeate the hallway a door away. You whined when he threw his head back, no longer able to watch how his skin pinked and his pupils widened at your ministrations.
Jungkook was ethereal, using your face as a glorified hole for his pleasure.
“Doesn’t take much to turn you into a cockslut, does it?” He pulled you to your feet, ignoring your complaints of wanting him back in your mouth. “You’re so easy that it’s almost boring.”
Every word out of his mouth made your core clench.
He turned you to face the wall and pulled your bottoms off to have access to your hole. You jumped when he lightly spanked your center.
When he noticed the ceiling hook directly above you, he grinned. “Lift your arms, slut.”
Your back to him, you couldn’t see how he grabbed one of your clothes and used it to tie your wrists to the hook. He adjusted it until he deemed you comfortable enough.
He pinched your ass, spreading your cheeks to reveal your winking hole. “Such a slutty fucking hole, all for me, isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” you said. “All for you, only you.”
“You probably don’t even need to be prepped, huh? Sluts are always ready.”
Still, he sat down on his calves and began to trace you with the rough pads of his fingers. His other hand held onto your hips as you began to buck around, the touch so teasing that it left you desperate for more.
You were no stranger to sex and the pleasure that came with it, yet Jungkook’s touch felt so different from all the others you’ve been with. Even your own hands, hands that knew your body better than anyone else, paled in comparison to his teasing movements. He would give you just enough of what you needed before retreating, leaving your body in a constant tug and pull of ecstasy and wanting.
And then his lips. Plush and soft. He kissed around you before diving in, his tongue making a home for itself in you. The muscle wiggled around to touch your tight walls.
“I knew it,” he groaned, losing himself in you. “You taste so fucking good.”
Wads of his spit were shoved into you with his fingers. He would gather his saliva and finger it as deep as he could, repeating the process until you were overflowing. It wasn’t even that he was prepping you, you realized, he just loved turning you into a messy slut covered in him.
He spat onto your ass once more, massaging it into your skin.
“I’d ask if you were ready for my cock, but I know you are,” he said, pressing his chest onto your back and rubbing his length down your crack.
“I need it.” You rubbed your ass against his crotch, enticing him to fuck you full.
So, he did.
“It slid right in,” he moaned. “Do I have to thank whoever fucked you last night for loosening you up for me?”
You wanted to watch him, but the knots above you were too tight to turn. All you could do was hang pliant, nothing but a body to be used for Jungkook. After all his teasing, he didn’t wait for you to adjust to his ginormous length before bottoming out. His pace was rapid as he jackhammered into you.
Your mouth hung open, brain emptied in pleasure.
“I’m gonna need you to be quiet, baby,” he whispered in your ear. “Wanna be a good slut for me and keep that whore mouth shut, hm?”
You’d been left drunk by his words alone, the consonants and vowels swirled in your mind until all you could think of was the shaft that dragged against your insides. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“Nothing but a dumb little fuckhole for me to breed, isn’t that right?”
It became more difficult with every thrust to hold back your moans without hands to bite on.
“You like that?” He delivered a harsh thrust into you. “Want to be nothing but a cumdump? Gonna make you take all my cum, have it dripping down your thighs as you walk home, forced to think of me fucking you every step of the way there.”
“Fuck,” you hiss. “Feels so good.”
“Did I say you could speak?”
You whined when his cock slipped out, fearful that he might leave you unfinished. Instead, he rustled through your fallen clothes on the floor. When he stood, you had a suspicion of what came next.
He shoved the wad of lace into your parted lips.
“Snap your fingers twice if you want out, okay?”
He slid his cock back into you, moving at a slower pace this time. He would pull out until only his head remained, before violently shoving back in until his balls pounded onto your ass.
“I think I like you better like this,” he smirked as he tugged your chin to face him. He angled your face side-to-side, as one would inspect goods in a market. After a moment, he nodded in approval. You could imagine what he saw: a slut with snot dripping from their nose, tears raining from their eyes, and new marks littering their neck replacing the ones before it. “You know what I’d do if you were mine?” He sniffed your neck, hot breath tickling your skin.
Your head shook.
“I’d fuck your pretty ass until it’s dripping with my cum. Would plug you up and have you walk around and attend class, feeling all of my seed in your belly with every little movement you make. You wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything without my help, hm, baby? I’d turn you into a dumb little bimbo who needs me for even the littlest tasks.” Your eyes rolled at the purr of his tone as he whispered every single thing he’d do to you against the lobe of your ear. “Good sluts take whatever I give them.”
“I need that so bad,” your voice came out muffled from beneath the fabric. You wanted to tug your wrists from where he’d tied them above you and feel his skin beneath your palms.
He caressed your nape with a condescending laugh. “I know you do. I’d train you to be the perfect cumdump. My cumdump. Would have you wearing the shortest clothes and bend you over every surface so that everyone passing by could see your messy hole. And you’d love it, wouldn’t you? Would love everyone watching you, knowing that I’m the only one allowed to touch you… until I ask my friends to play with you, of course. I’m not that selfish.” You tightened around him. “Oh, you’d love to be passed around and gang-banged. You’d be so filled up with cum that your stomach would bloat.”
Clearly, he had an exhibitionist streak (among a plethora of other kinks). Something you should’ve guessed by how quickly his pants tented when you suggested fucking in a closet. Evidently, you had the same streak, if your clenched slit had anything to say for it.
“You’re so fucking tight. I never wanna leave this hole.”
You were thankful he had stuffed your ruined panties in your mouth lest he heard your mindless babbles as you neared your climax.
His hips began to thrust even faster than you would’ve thought possible. Your heart spiked as each motion made noise loud enough for the outside to hear – but you could no longer care, lost in the sensations of his hard cock belitting you into nothing more than a hole to fuck.
“You take my cock so easily. Didn’t even need much prep. You’re just a common whore, aren’t you?”
You feverishly nodded.
He reached around you to remove the wad of cotton from your mouth. “Where do you want my cum?” he groaned, the words rushing from his lips as he chased his climax.
“In me,” you cried into your shoulder, barely conscious enough to not want to get caught. “I need you to fill me with your seed.”
“Fuck,” he moaned. “You’re so hot, you know that? Could fuck you for the rest of my life.”
In and out. In and out. His hips moved so swiftly that you could no longer think, sufficiently dick-drunk. He no longer cared about pacing, simply using you as a doll to get off.
“I want you to cum with me,” he said. His dominant demeanor faded as he desperately clung onto every inch of your skin, hand roaming your sides as he chased his end. His fingers began tugging at your nipples roughly, urging you to reach the finale with him. His words were breathlessly rushed as if they fell from his lips without thought: “Need you to cum, need to feel you cum around me. Shit. You look so pretty fucked out. Such a good slut for me. You’re doing so good, baby.”
Your orgasm crashed against you like a tidal wave, unexpected and violent. Your body thrashed against your binds, hips jerking back and forth as pleasure overtook you - possessed you, almost. Your hole pulsed against his cock, tightening around the length as fluids overflowed.
He jerked into you once more, his cum painting your insides. Soft expletives fell from his lips between praises as he gently rocked his hips into you to ensure his cum wouldn’t spill.
The sensation of his cock slipping out of you felt like heaven and sin.
You hadn’t orgasmed so destructively in… you couldn’t remember having ever experienced anything that came close to that. You weren’t certain if it was because of the risk of getting caught or because Jungkook was that good. Perhaps, it was a mix of both.
You shook at the binds above you, tired from your orgasm.
He wasn’t quite finished, however.
You waited, confused, until you felt his tongue lap your hole, sucking his cum out of you. Sensitive, your feet kicked at him to stop, but he was relentless in his mission to fill his mouth with his own seed.
Your stomach curled at the mischievous glint in his eyes as he stood. He pried your mouth open with his fingers before depositing all of his saliva-mixed cum onto your tongue. “Don’t swallow yet, baby.”
He leaned on your body with a softness that matched his gaze, his hand resting on your hip, his chest on your back. His fingers played with the fluids in your mouth, swirling it with your spit until it combined into a mess that ran down your chin (which he licked up and spat back in). Content, he finally commanded you to swallow.
The thick concoction ran down your throat slowly, becoming a part of you. You groaned at the heady sensation alongside Jungkook’s pliant kisses around your nape.
He gently untied your wrists from the hook, rubbing the skin from any soreness. When he was done, he rocked your tired body back-and-forth to soothe you. You crumpled onto his figure as if your bones had disintegrated to dust.
“We… We really just did that.” Jungkook had finally come back to himself, doe eyes widened as if he had broken from a spell. “Are you alright?”
You laughed breathlessly. “Yeah, you?”
He nodded, scratching at his nape.
The next few minutes consisted of an awkward dance, the pair of you picking up your clothes, constantly stumbling against each other in the process. Each time, Jungkook would avert his gaze to the ceiling or the floor – whatever he could do to give you privacy in the confined quarters of a storage closet. The silence was so thick that to distort it with words felt unnatural. He only spoke to tell you that the hallway was quiet, no longer occupied by the residents of the house, and that you were both free to leave unnoticed.
Even the goodbye was stilted, as if you had been possessed by beings other than yourselves during the incident and were now left to deal with the consequences.
Under the morning light outside, Jungkook flushed as red as a polluted sunset. He gingerly waved from where he stood, making sure that you got into your Uber safely (only after nagging the driver to escort you with utmost caution). Your lips parted, but the words wouldn’t surface. Instead, you settled for a wave back.
A smile cracked on his lips as he watched your car hug the corner of the street and disappear from view.
The next time you saw Jungkook was during a lecture. His glasses were back on his face, sweater vest tucked into his trousers. He looked nothing like the man who had fucked you dumb the weekend before, back to being the epitome of what you’d expect every nerd who took college too seriously to look like.
You took your usual seat beside him, unsure if bringing it up casually would make him uncomfortable. Already, his cheeks and ears were red, and you could almost feel the heat radiating off of them.
You exchanged shy greetings before returning to your individual tasks: him, pretending to rewrite notes (when really he was doodling on the corners of his notebook), and you, pretending to send a text (when really you were swiping your homescreen back and forth).
He shot you furtive glances when he thought you weren’t looking. His fingers drummed against the table and his knee shook as if he was working up the courage to say anything. Gone was the boy who had had all the words ready in the palm of his hand that morning.
“Hey,” you smiled. “Did you start on the final project already?”
His head whipped towards you, wide eyes and parted lips telling you he hadn’t expected you to make the first move, perhaps content to fester in the ruined classmate relationship after your somewhat strained goodbye post-rendezvous. How does one act after confessing your feelings and subsequently fucking in a closet? You knew how to react to hook-ups, and you knew how to react to confessions, but both? At the same time? Your head spun.
“I- That-” He struggled to gather his words as each consonant slipped through his fingers like fine sand. He, a past valedictorian, had been left dumb. “I did,” he croaked out. “You?”
“Of course, you did.” You laughed, the sound more metallic than you’d intended. “I’m gonna start next week.”
“Cool,” Jungkook replied.
The silence thickened the air between you like smog. The minute stretched on for forever, the pair of you waiting for the other to break the silence first in an unannounced game of chicken.
“I just-” “I don’t-”
Your voices overlapped each other, causing you to exchange awkward grins.
Jungkook cleared his throat. “Can I start?”
You told him to go ahead.
“I just wanted you to know that I meant what I said about liking you.” He rubbed his nape. “I didn’t mean for what happened to happen, but I don’t regret it.”
His gaze burned into your own as if he were searching for any clues as to what you felt. It was terrifying, the sincerity in which it pierced you. But you had no want to run from it. Not anymore.
“I don’t regret it, either,” you said. “Plus, that might’ve been one of the hottest hook-ups I’ve ever had.”
He blushed. “And about the ‘me liking you’ part?”
You dragged your chair closer to his. “After the way you treated me, how could I not?”
It took him a moment to compose himself, back ramrod straight as goosebumps ran down his arms at the turn he hadn’t expected the conversation to take. He anxiously glanced at the row behind where you two sat, teeth biting into his bottom lip in a way you found infatuating. You were thankful to every god out there that he had been caught in traffic that first day and forced to sit in the back row beside you. Jungkook, who had been nothing more than a cute, grade-conscious stranger at the time.
The minute it took for him to steel his nerves was worth it, you found out.
Just in time, the professor walked through the door and began taking attendance. You were so focused on waiting that you jumped when Jungkook’s hand began trailing up and down your thigh.
Your eyes widened.
“Did you really like it?” he whispered.
“Like what?”
“The way I treated you.”
There were thousands of ways you could’ve affirmed his statement, but you settled for a nod.
His hand moved up your inner thigh, nearing your crotch. The upward jerk of your hips caused a satisfied smirk to settle on his lips. “If you want to continue being my good pet, then don’t make a sound.”
So enthralled were you in his touch that you hadn’t realized that your professor had called you. Twice.
“Present,” you yelled, embarrassed by the startled shakiness in your tone.
“Good pet,” he praised, rubbing harder through your clothes. “You want more?”
Jungkook licked his fingers with a nymph gaze. With his free hand, he unbuttoned your pants.
Paranoid, you glanced around the lecture hall.
“Don’t kid yourself,” his low tone caused goosebumps to run across your arms. “I know a common whore like you wants to be stared at while being used.”
His hand dipped into your underwear, moving directly to your hole. He rubbed the area around it before inserting a finger into you, deliciously wiggling it around. His spit allowed it to smoothly enter you with a soft ‘squish’.
In front, the lesson had begun. Not that you could pay attention. Your focus zeroed in on the intoxicating slowness in which Jungkook made a toy out of you, hand moving back and forth.
“Can someone please read the first section on page 130?”
You froze as your professor began glancing up and down the rows in search of a prospect, disappointed at the disinterested gazes of her students. This would be the time that, like clockwork, Jungkook’s arm would raise. And yet it stayed, connected to you below the table.
A historical moment: Jungkook not volunteering.
Instead, he did something entirely different.
You gasped when he grabbed your arm and made you raise your hand.
“Great,” the professor acknowledged you, gesturing you to begin.
You quickly flipped through the pages, hands shaking when you realized that Jungkook wouldn’t stop. If anything he began to finger you faster, hitting the area that caused spots to cloud your vision.
Your voice shook as you read out the passage. Scattered letters chased each other on the page; your eyes raced to keep up with them. Had the words always been so small?
Jungkook had fingered you dumb enough to forget how to read.
“Though scholars believed that–” He pushed his fingers directly against your most sensitive spot. “–That, um, though they believed that–”
You accidentally made eye contact with a few of your classmates, their impatience with your slow pace making it hard for you to wring the words into sentences. Your voice came out breathy yet stilted, guttural stops after every few words.
When you finished the section, you leaned against the back of your chair in relief as the class resumed. Jungkook, however, was a stranger to giving you breaks, simply speeding his ministrations.
The feeling in the pit of your stomach heightened the faster he went. Your eyes bounced around the nearby rows to check if anyone noticed the slight creaking sound that came from this new speed, but were reassured to find that everyone was busy analyzing a chart on the projector.
When you turned to face him, you were pleased to find that half of his notes were in scribbles. You’d be quite offended if your tightness around his fingers weren’t at least a bit of a distraction to the star pupil. You had half a mind to joke about fucking one of your classmates to borrow their notes to lend to him just so that he’d jealousy-fuck you the moment class dismissed. You were just about to when you felt it – that tell-tale tightening.
“Jungkook,” you whispered, your legs beginning to shake. “I’m coming.”
His lips brushed against the lobe of your ear. “Cum for me then, slut.”
You breathed so heavily from holding back your moans that you became lightheaded, lost in the euphoria of your danger-filled release. The world was but a blur as you crumpled into your seat exhausted. You hadn’t even realized how Jungkook’s fingers slipped out of you, nor how he buttoned you up and kissed your forehead.
Above, the bell ringing signalled the end of the class, alongside the routine sounds of chairs scraping against hardwood floors and stationary being stuffed into totes and backpacks.
The two of you were left alone in the classroom, eyes finding one another in the solitude.
You grinned, still in a daze. “There isn’t a CCTV in here, right?”
He moved you onto the desk, hands gripping your hips. “Even if there was, would you care?”
And the answer was ‘no’, you didn’t. As long as you were wrapped in your seatmate’s warmth and greeted with his shy yet teasing smiles, you wouldn’t have cared where he touched you. What could’ve been a one morning stand began a series of trysts both public and private, and you both wouldn’t have had it any other way.
thank u for reading!! <3 if u liked it let me know ! : ✉
warnings: mature themes, obsessive & unhealthy behavior, manipulation, paranormal themes, violent themes, major character death. ( TW: mentions of suicide)
word count: 11.8k
Based on the Halloween Classic; Casper
Synopsis: When you’re forced to move back in with your father after failing to find a stable job , you’re more than unsettled with the foreign and creepy place he has bought. Your anxiety only seems to worsen when you start to suspect the old house is haunted. But when your suspicions are confirmed , it seems like the spirit that inhabits your home isn’t terrifying at all. In fact, he’s rather friendly. A bit too friendly
AN; hey guys so we are going to pretend i posted this on halloween for the sake of my mental health🤠 on a serious note though , i had a family emergncy & a pretty shitty halloween so that was why my last two halloween fics were so delayed. im really sorry! but i hope everyone had a happy halloween ! hope you enjoy regardless! :)🎃🎃
“Dad you could of bothered to at least hide the key somewhere I could find it.” You grumbled into the phone as you took a look at the poorly painted teal color door. The ‘Welcome’ sign that hung from it was anything but inviting.
Your father had done a decent job at carving a large pumpkin that stood right at the doorstep of the home but it looked rather sad. You supposed the bad shape of the house added to the appeal of the current Halloween season but it would soon wear off . Your shoes crunched against the dried up leaves that covered the floor of the porch .
“I told you it’s there, I put it under the welcome carpet!” You rolled your eyes as you stared at the dirty thing, there was certainly no key under there. You had checked a good three times already and practically torn apart a gardening pot he had on the side too in search for it.
“Well looks you have early-onset Alzheimer’s because there’s nothing here.”
You hear him let out a sigh.
“Just wait there, I’ll be home in about 10 minutes.”
The line went dead and you stood there waiting for your father’s car to pull up in the driveway.
You were in a sour mood to say the least, you had just graduated college with a degree in communications and while you would admit it wasn’t the most impressive major , it had been for you. You were finally relieved to have finished school, only for you to fail to find a decent job. You had been applying to loads of different marketing jobs, even social media manager applications and nothing.
These were quite simple jobs, right? Even more so with a literal degree but somewhere nobody seemed to be interested in hiring you. You blamed it on the fact that you didn’t have much experience since you had just graduated a few months ago but it was just what you talked yourself into to make yourself feel better and not like a complete failure.
Your dad’s way of comforting you had been to convince you to move back in with him while you got yourself back on your own two feet. You hated it.
You were supposed to be the successful independent woman you imagined yourself to be at the age of 24 but now you had come scurrying back home to live with your dad like some teenager again.
summary: seven of the highest executives at BigHit Industries take a company business trip. Who knows what they'll get up to, or who they'll meet there.
rate: 20+ audience
pairing: ot7 × reader
warnings: age gap (aged up bangtan), s2l, dom/sub dynamics, infidelity, pwp, explicit smut (different per chapter; warnings stated at the top of each)
status: completed
a/n: making this into a series bc i cant stop thinking abt them 😒 the hold they have on me is... sjsksl anyways lmk what you think! <3 + main m.list
𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 | You were immediately met with heavy boots stomping right in front of you, the mindless chatter ceasing as the voices you had blocked out drifted back into your consciousness. Your eyes trailed up the tall body of the human that had dared stepped close to you. Your teeth bared as you met his eyes. His woefully cruel and boasting eyes. Kim Namjoon.
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 | pirate captain!namjoon × mermaid!reader
𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 | pirates au, fantasy, mermaid au, smut, enemies to lovers, mentions of greek mythology, curly haired reader
𝔞/𝔫 | this is way longer than i originally planned and it was gonna be even longer but deadline's coming up so i kept it to 10k ish lmfaoo (still long as hell ik). hope y'all enjoy and let me know what you think!
The waves crashed unforgivingly around you, catapulting your body left and right with the tide. Screams rang through your ears as you flipped your tail frantically, trying to reach the voices that called out to you. You were near the surface, and the storm was merciless to the waves. The ocean churned in agony, writhing in anguish, as the heavens rained down their reckoning. A loud clap of thunder caught your attention, whipping your head around to catch a bolt of lightning strike through the angry sky. It was as though Poseidon had earned the wrath of God, and he was taking it out on you. A scream for your name to your left drew you jolting in that direction, desperately trying to reach who called out to you.
“Yn!” A cough as the waters held her hostage, “Help me”
You finally spotted her, a lone teenage mermaid struggling to make her way down and into deeper waters, like the others. But, as much as she flapped and writhed, her tail was caught in something unyielding, something pulling her in, like the catch of the day.
You didn’t have time to dwell as you swam forward, surging against the waves in an effort to get to her. You found her entangled in a web of thick net, her arms pinned to her side as she flapped in vain. You could barely see what you were untangling, the waves coming up in an attempt to drown you, water filling your ears, nose, and lungs as you struggled to breath and stay above water. Your muscles screamed for mercy, arms sore and bruised from being battered by the waves. You could easily just swim down and find refuge in the calmer waters of the deep ocean; but what kind of leader would you be to leave one of your own kind to the beasts who trap your kind like savages? Your hatred for the humans fueled your actions as you balanced yourself, fighting the power of the gods themselves to keep steady. Your nimble fingers worked quickly, unwrapping the young mermaid until she was able to wriggle herself out of the trap, and back into free waters.
“Go now!” You yelled above the commotion of the waves, signaling down as you had guided the others. A quick nod, and she was gone, diving deep and swimming until she could breathe freely. You took another quick look around for any other stragglers, your eyes screaming for a rest as the rain blurred your vision. If you hadn’t been so focused on finding others, if you hadn’t been so battered and bruised from the ocean, if you hadn’t lost that keen sense you pride yourself in in your weariness from battling the rage of the storm, you might have noticed the net that was whipped over the edge of the ship, that sneakily came down over you. You felt the light net before you heard it splash against the waves, the ropes holding it to the boat tightening as they pulled you up, successfully ensnaring you. You hissed and clawed against the net, fighting till your last breath. But even you couldn’t feed your fire, anger only in your heart as your body gave up, shut down. You had held out until the very last merperson was safe under the ocean, but you drew the line at yourself. You caught a glimpse of the name on the side of the ship as you were being pulled up, before the heaviness of your lids that you’d been fighting for a while, overtook you, and crashed your body into a deep sleep.
Loud laughter around you woke you from your slumber, your knocked out state still waning as your eyes tried to adjust to your blurry surroundings. That godforsaken net still weighed heavily on you as you tried to lift yourself up into a sitting position. You were immediately met with heavy boots stomping right in front of you, the mindless chatter ceasing as the voices you had blocked out drifting back into your consciousness. Your eyes trailed up the tall body of the human that had dared stepped close to you. Your teeth bared as you met his eyes. His woefully cruel and boasting eyes.
Kim Namjoon. Captain of the Bangtan, the most feared pirate ship in all the seven seas.
Namjoon's eyes crinkled as he smirked down at you arrogantly, not needing a word to convey the power dynamic you were situated in. Your threatening glare did nothing to phase him as he relished the moment. You, at his mercy, fallen to his feet.
“Well, well, well,” his voice boomed around the ship, “Looks like I win the catch of the day, folks. Unless any of you caught something to outrank the merpeople’s princess.”
Laughter erupted around you at their captain’s words, the sense of pride and arrogance that Namjoon had filled his crew. You were in a pitiful state, still ethereally beautiful, but looking utterly helpless as you lay there in the center of his ship’s deck, entangled in a net like a mere animal. You recoiled as he crouched down to meet your eye level, ignoring the threatening hiss in his direction at his proximity.
“What should we do with her, boys? We can’t throw her back yet,” his eyes glint deviantly, “At least, not until we’ve had some fun with her.”
You stared back indignantly, hands coming up to shield your bare chest and tattered body from their eyes. Their amusement at your humiliation only increased with your actions as you helplessly flopped on the deck, natural instinct yearning for the feel of water on your tail. You were completely at their mercy, and Namjoon knew it.
“What’s wrong? Don’t worry, princess. I plan to take real good care of you.” A filthy smirk accompanied his treacherous words as his hands reached out to caress your face tauntingly. The crew egged their captain on, their faithless eyes hanging on to every interaction between the two of you, your small body outnumbered by the savage pirates chanting and hollering around you, painting obscene pictures with their feral words. Namjoon seemed to revel in the moment, your uneasiness and discomfort more evident by the second.
“You’re a filthy savage, and you’ll pay for your crimes against my kind,” you spit, expectorating at his face for good measure. A shocked hush fell over the crew, mutters of astonishment waving through the crowd. They had never heard someone speak to their Captain like that, let alone spit at him. No one dared disrespect the notorious pirate; his persona revered and respected. He had even made the highest of dukes bow to his feet. You were the first that ever broke that tradition.
Namjoon didn’t take kindly to that, his jaw locking with an angry tick, as he wiped his cheek of your disdain. “Oh, you’ll see just how savage I am, princess.” He stood up in a fury, barking commands at his men. “Take her to the brig!”
You had been left to rot in the belly of the ship for hours on end. You had lost track of time, having neither the moon nor the tide to guide your timekeeping. Your stomach ached and complained loudly of hunger. Your skin felt clammy, and your lips dry. You slumped against the dirty cage they had thrown you in, dusty and grimy. No windows or light shining through, the only source of brightness being the few lanterns they had bothered to light. Your head lolled against the bars of the cell, aching for a touch of the sea. Your tail felt heavy and burdensome, weighing you down as it dragged across the dry floor, flapping occasionally as if it was trying to steer in the water. Your top had been readjusted endlessly, but your constant shifting was moving it out of place. You had stopped bothering with fixing it, letting the straps hang off your shoulders like a scrap. Your bracelet glinted at you tauntingly, the only thing that had retained its luster throughout the hours you had been deposited here. The bright aquamarine almost coming to life the longer you stared at it. Or, it was possibly delusions settling over you as your mind was overtaken with hunger.
A loud creak of the old door by the entrance captured your attention, desolate eyes shifting over to the direction of the sound. Your broken spirit was reflected in your gaze, but you were determined not to show any sign of weakness, hardening your eyes and fixing your posture to sit upright. One of Namjoon’s men, a close one, high in the ranks by the looks of his bedazzled hands, approached your cage. His long black hair fell over his eyes, a hint of sparkle peeking through. His rolled up black shirtsleeves revealed a long trail of tattoos as he fetched a key from his pocket, avoiding eye contact with you determinedly as he fiddled with the lock.
“Captain requires your presence,” he offered simply, loud clank of the door as the key successfully unlocked your cell. He didn’t seem all that threatened by you, daring to step into the same vicinity with no one to protect him but himself. Foolish boy. Even weak and desolate, you were still more dangerous than he could ever imagine.
He seemed to know about the mermaid’s curse, though, if his doe eyes being glued to the ground were anything to go by. He knew that one look into your eyes, one moment of gazing into eyes that held the soul of the ocean, one moment was all it took for you to grab a hold of him, reach into the depths of his consciousness, and make him yours, placing him under your spell for as long as you cared for. With some mermaids, it took longer to catch their prey, needing pretty songs to keep their attention as they slipped them their venomous stare. For other mermaids, it was stronger. You, on the other hand, had a gift. And he knew that.
But that wasn’t the only trick up your sleeve. You didn’t dare move as he uncuffed your shackles from the wall behind you, roping them together to drag you up the stairs. You simply waited, patiently. As he drew closer and closer, inch by inch. You slowly released the poison in your veins beneath your skin, letting it engulf him when it was too late to pull away. Before he even knew it, he’d be dead on the floor and you’d be gone.
“That won’t work, that thing you’re doing with your scales.” His voice startled you, so close to you, almost tickling your neck as he leaned over you to undo your chains. He shouldn’t be able to stand, let alone speak right now. Your face maintained its impassiveness, hesitant to admit to your deadly woes.
“We’re protected against it. And, it’s not as strong if you’ve been out of the water for too long.” He reached into his neck to fish out a necklace made of the same stone you had adorned on your wrist. Aquamarine.
“I know that,” you snapped. Talking as if you didn’t know about your own powers. The real question was how did he? And how did he obtain such a stone? Your kind guarded the precious crystal closely, it was extremely rare to see a human be in possession of it.
“Where did you get that necklace?” You asked casually. As if the sweet nonchalance would seduce him into giving away such a guarded secret. He looked at you for a moment as if your charm had worked. As if he would give you all that information and more; how he got it, what else he planned to obtain, all the contents in Namjoon’s journal detailing their plans…
“How else does a pirate get things?” He returned his gaze to your shackles as he yanked you up by them, the inherent ruthlessness reappearing as a grin spread wide on his lips. “By stealing, of course.”
You were dragged across the boat, shackles around your wrist digging into your hand as Jungkook yanked you through. You could tell he was trying to be somewhat gentle, still mindful that you were royalty and deserved to be treated as such. But, he was also Namjoon’s little prodigy. There were a lot of things, he learned, that didn’t deserve respect. And you were one of them.
When you got to the center of the ship, Jungkook led you to the biggest and most ornate door on deck. Three knocks, and a “come in” sounded from the inside. He led you through the door, depositing you roughly in the center of Namjoon’s quarters. You fell with a gasp as you barely managed to catch yourself from face planting into the expensive rug, turning to shoot a glare at the younger pirate. He wasn’t afraid to meet your eyes now, but he was intimidated the moment his gaze met yours, the fury making itself known. He quickly looked away, clearing his throat, “Anything else you need from me, Cap?”
“That’ll be all,” Namjoon’s deep voice rumbled from where he sat behind a large desk, pouring over what you could see to be maps of the seven seas. Jungkook gave one last nod before he exited the room, the loud bang of the door shutting signaling that you and Namjoon were left alone.
“You arrogant, heartless, barbaric piece of shit,” you started, venom seeping from every word you spat. “How dare you treat a princess of the seven seas like this. You’re calling for war. You and this pathetic little ship of yours. Do you really think you’re any match for my forces? Must I remind you of your past defeats?” Your rage knew no bounds, fueled by the headache you sported from the hunger in your belly and the undying need to get back to the water. How dare Kim Namjoon think so much of himself, imprisoning a princess like this? Did he really think he was going to get away with this little stunt?
“If I must remind you,” he interjected with a drawl, accessorized with a smirk when he saw your indignation at being interrupted. “You were the ones left running for the water as our cannon balls launched an attack you couldn’t handle.”
You scoffed in utter shock. The unbelievability of this man! “You threw meek cannon balls behind you as you went racing for the horizon. We were not defeated.”
He rolled his eyes, “You can remember it how you want.” He finally got up from his seat walking around the table in his big boots, the ground shaking with every step he took as he neared you. He kneeled down to your height, staring your pretty, indignant pout right in the face. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re about to lose that little weapon of yours any minute now.”
You followed his nod right down to your tail, a sudden pang in your stomach at the thought of the time. Your eyes shot up, finding the nearest window, where the moon glowed peacefully at you, illuminating the dark night and dancing on the surface of the waves. The ocean. Which you’d been so craving for the past twelve hours. Your tail was sensing it before you did, shedding ever so slightly, littering the deck in scales the crew would sweep up on your way up here. Preparing for the worst.
Your eyes screwed shut as the change came. Twelve hours without saltwater touching your skin. Screams fell from your lips as you writhed on the ground, trying to catch your breath as your lungs heaved to keep up. The painful transformation shooting fire up your scales as your tail turned into human legs. Your anguish echoed throughout the ship, into the night as your scales finally fell away, leaving you breathless on the floor of Namjoon’s quarters. It was a well-made trap that Namjoon had laid out for you, you thought as you stared up at the ceiling in your naked state. The main source of your magic came from your mermaid form. Without the contact with the ocean, the link with that magic would be weak, and eventually gone as you turned into a human to adjust to the land. It was, arguably, the worst thing to ever come from merpeople evolution. Turning into those disgusting creatures that walked the land, spoiling it and making it rotten wherever they stepped. Dumping their leftover garbage into the sea, and plundering as if they owned the Earth. As if you weren’t here first.
The shackles fell away as Namjoon unlocked your wrists. Now sure that you were in your least threatening state, he was able to relax. And let you do the same, once he was certain you were too weak to launch any kind of attack.
“I hope you’re happy,” you pant, the toll of the transformation still lingering as you lay on the rug, completely exposed in your worst state. Namjoon doesn’t say a word, simply lifts you up and deposits you into a chair, a table of feasts displayed right in front of you tauntingly.
“Eat,” he commands. But his words hold no hostility. Still, you were uneasy to trust him so quickly. It wouldn’t be surprising if the last part of his plan was to poison you right here and now. Although, you seriously doubt he’d have gotten his hands on the one poison that could kill a mermaid, found deep in the darkest of oceans where most merpeople didn’t even dare venture.
You turned your nose away from the tempting food, something that was excruciatingly hard for you to do. But your pride came first. You almost thought you’d heard Namjoon sigh exasperatedly, but you figured it must’ve been your imagination because the next words that came out of his mouth were, “You either eat here and now, or you eat out there. With the crew. In this state.”
Oh, he was truly cruel. He knew, as a princess of the sea, you’d never let those scallywags see you like this. Not only human, but a most impuissant human. You’d die first.
Which you were prepared to do if Namjoon hadn’t run out of patience with your brattiness, and he hadn’t grabbed your cheeks, forcing a piece of bread down your throat and pouring wine down right after it, holding your mouth closed until he saw you chew and swallow.
“Eat,” he repeated. “I’m sick of your attitude.”
He wasn’t wrong. The source of your rage and anger, and the way you were taking it out on him, didn’t mainly stem from your forced transformation, or even your imprisonment. You were extremely ill-tempered when you hadn’t eaten yet.
He watched you as you picked through the food he’d presented. Lightly at first, then more ardently as you stopped caring about how you looked and worrying about if it was poisoned or not. You ate your fill (a surprisingly zealous appetite; but he should have expected that, considering some merpeople’s diets consisted of human men.), and wiped your chin after that. A dress was sitting on the chair next to you, red in color. You looked at Namjoon with your eyebrow raised.
“Where’d you find this? On a maiden you left back on Tortuga?” You sniffed, holding the dress away from you.
Namjoon chuckled, “Actually, in a chest off the Amalfi coast. But if that doesn’t suit your fancy, I have a whole wardrobe you can choose from.” He gestured to a trunk sitting in the corner of his room, looking already rifled through with expensive necklaces and jewels hanging off the sides. “Unless you prefer the ones that maidens left here,” he leaned forward, eyes glinting mischievously.
“Why dress me when you’re planning to kill me? You’ve already seen me in this form, I have nothing to hide,” you talked as you pulled the stupid dress over your head. You didn’t care about this arbitrary thing of nudity that humans seemed to care about. But you knew the power dynamics involved in such vulnerability, and you were not about to let him have one more thing to hold over you.
Nothing to hide, indeed. Namjoon couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering to those perfect perky breasts as you tugged the dress over your cleavage, bouncing with every move you made. Head tilted up to reveal that smooth neck, collarbones exposed as you pushed your hair back out of your face. Pretty jewelry adorning your body glinting in the dim light of his cabin as you adjusted the length of your dress, turning around and giving him the perfect view of your round ass. A feature that people rarely, if ever, saw on you.
“What’s wrong? Never seen a perfect pair of tits before?” Namjoon’s attention snapped up from its wandering gaze over your body to meet your mischievous eyes. He was right; you were much more agreeable after you ate. You resumed that playful threatening demeanor that ensued whenever your paths crossed. You were cocky. And you had a right to be. Although he had devoted his entire life to learning the secrets of the sea, and had uncovered some of it, it doesn’t hold a candle to you. You had him far outmatched than any other opponent he had come across.
You and Namjoon had a complicated history, to say the least. It started when he was just a young sailor. A young dumb sailor, who had listened to his superiors when they had ordered him to fetch a treasure that required him to row from the ship across known mermaid waters. He was naive back then. Just as handsome, though. Poor boy, didn’t suspect a thing when his little rowboat suddenly stopped out in the middle of the water, your head peeking out from the side until you pulled yourself up, leaning against the boat with your hands resting on the edge. He was cute back then, round glasses that fogged up often with the humidity of the ocean. He had been so allured, so easy to ensnare. Dropping his oar as he almost tipped the boat trying to reach you. Big eyes, pillowy lips. All it had taken was one look to have him leaning in, ready to fall under your spell. It had almost worked. Had one of your other merpeople not dragged his screaming crewmate under, catching his attention. Back then, you were younger too. Simply choosing to abandon this specific row boat as Namjoon thought quickly, lighting one of his oars on fire with the lantern to use as a weapon while he (as the sole survivor) frantically rode back to the ship.
“Well, now that you’ve gotten me fed and dressed, I suppose you want me to kiss your feet for being so merciful and taking pity on me.” You mocked as you strolled around the room, discreetly making your way over to his desk, where all his secrets lay. He caught your wrist before you got too far, dragging you back and depositing you in your chair with an aggressive hand.
Seems like ages ago. Alot has happened since. Namjoon became a pirate captain, and you became the crown princess. Your paths crossed many times after, always in conflict. It was in both of your natures. But your species wasn't the only cause of the rift between you.
“While I wouldn’t mind you on your knees for me, princess, I have more important matters to discuss than your begging.” His canines glistened as he displayed them to you, never letting your wrist free from his powerful grip.
“I suppose I do deserve an explanation for the way I was treated,” you pouted in faux compliance before rolling your eyes, leaning back against the chair. “What do you want?”
“Where is the necklace of Black Heart?” He demanded without hesitance, rogue eyes hardening in his gaze.
You almost scoffed out loud at his words. “Oh? Since when do you know about the seven lost treasures of the ancient pirate kings?” His eyes only narrowed, but he offered no response. He didn’t have time for this. For your games. He had a goal, and he planned to achieve it. Your futile attempts to stall him would be in vain.
He had come across the legends early in his travels, and it enraptured him from the moment he’d laid eyes on the ancient scroll. The legend is famous, but not all know its true origin. The story has changed over time while the hidden secrets lay rotting in an ancient cave he came across. The scrolls dictated a different version of the famous pirate story everyone else assumed:
Long ago, when man was first becoming acquainted with the sea, they awakened the ancient, ill-tempered god of the ocean, Poseidon. Poseidon was fiercely protective of the jurisdiction he called home, and personally chose seven pirate kings to protect the oceans from their savage human counterparts. He gifted them each a talisman that, when brought together, would award them the power of the ocean and the tide. They worked together with the ocean life; merfolk shared their magic, pirates shared their technology and human trade. They protected each other and lived in harmony. All was well in the sea god’s realm. But the kings eventually became untrusting of each other. They started to suspect one another of stealing, foul play, cheating. They got more defensive and more secretive, sometimes launching into full on disputes. The animosity between the pirate kings grew until the distrust was overbearing. Not only had the strong alliance between the pirate groups been lost, but it had also caused a rift with the sea life. The pirates all started to look out for themselves, choosing selfish ways over cooperation and coexistence. Eventually, it was every man for himself. Each of the sacred pirate talismans, the things that marked each pirate king as the king, had been hidden away in different corners of the world, impossible to find for any other human who tried to yield their power. They were selfish, and their command of the sea died with them. Posiedon punished the men, cursing them to be hunted by those they used to call allies. Humans were turned on throughout the entire oceanic realm, and they are forever in battle with those waters they call home. Although there have been false prophets that claim to wield the power of a pirate king, merfolk knew those treasures were well-hidden, and no man had reached them since.
“This is rich.” You leaned back in your chair, trapped by Namjoon’s tight grip and limited in movement, but your haughtiness was completely visible in your stance. “You truly think you deserve the power of the seven seas? You really believe man is supposed to rule over all of land and water? When you can't even survive two minutes under the ocean without water filling your human lungs. How arrogant you are, to think you, with your weak anatomy and frail legs, could rule over all ocean beings."
You gasped as he yanked you close by your wrists, pulling you in where your nose was barely an inch from his. Your wide eyes met his fiery ones, “Careful, princess. Watch the way you talk to me,” his deep voice growled, “else I won’t hesitate to throw you over a fire and roast you like the fish you are.” His other hand came up to grip your jaw tightly, squeezing your face and forcing you to meet his fury face-to-face. “Understand?”
You were rarely left speechless, but that’s also because you were rarely in the presence of Kim Namjoon and his intimidating aura. You hated yourself for it, the way this human, this pirate was able to shut your mouth with just a tick of his jaw. The power he held over you outmatched your own; only because it was a power you yourself subjected yourself to. Your body reacted on its own agency, and you had no control over it.
He loosened his grip on your wrists when you let out a small nod, all you could manage with the tight hold he had on your face, but gave you a few light slaps to your cheek before letting you sit back and catch your breath. “That’s what I thought. Now, the necklace of Black Heart. Talk.”
“Your search is moot,” your eyes fell to the ground, no longer able to meet his after the humiliating display of power he exerted over you. Sure, you had tricks up your sleeve. You could have blasted him back so far that there’d be a Namjoon-shaped hole in his ostentatiously-decorated wall. But, you didn’t. And that was of your own shame to bear. “The necklace of Black Heart is buried where no human can reach, in a deep ocean trench. Even if you had a tail and incredible lung capacity,” which, just by looking at him, you assumed he did, “you wouldn’t be able to propel through those waters while holding your breath. Even coral’s root wouldn’t last long enough for you to breathe underwater in those conditions. Our most expert swimmers are no match, so why would you be?”
A sly smirk adorned his face, the wrinkles of his anger disappearing to be replaced with cockiness. “I am far more apt at retrieving treasure than you know, your majesty.”
“Ah yes,” your nails thrummed on the wooden table, the memory of that bright blue necklace that reflected your bracelet coming to mind. “Jungkook did have some interesting jewelry around his neck.”
“Well,” Namjoon chuckled, deep dimples revealing themselves. Cute. “He is quite easily tempted. I thought it best that the trinket go to him.” Trinket. The word left a bitter taste in your mouth. How trivial humans were. How disrespectful. But you’d let it slide for now, having other thoughts clouding your mind.
“And you, captain?” You leaned closer to the tall pirate, broad shoulders stiffening at the proximity, something he wasn’t controlling, but he didn’t exactly mind. “Are you not easily tempted?”
Through his black translucent shirt, you could see his muscles ripple as he tensed up at your question. You, the most tempting creature he had ever seen, was sitting in front of him, head in palm and mischievous eyes running down his body, asking him if he was tempted.
He bit back a stuttering sentence before clearing his throat. This was ridiculous. He was the most feared pirate captain. He wouldn’t fall prey to a pretty princess batting her eyelashes. He wouldn’t. No matter how many nights he sat up in these very quarters, locking his door, and indulging himself in dreams about your touch. Every goddamn time your paths crossed, you never failed to occupy his mind for weeks to come after. Namjoon was a man of logic, of reason and science. He prided himself on his rationality, his wit, his good sense. All that disappeared with the tide the moment he caught a glimpse of your curls, or a flash of your tail.
He thought he had warded himself against this. He had taken measures, protected himself from the chance of your enchantment. Namjoon was a man of the books; he followed his brain, his intellect matching no others. He thought only with that muscle up in that pretty head of his. He did take precautions, he did read the lore, and he did use magical means to ward off mermaid charms.
What he forgot to consider, however, wasn’t going to be found in any of the thick books he rifled through. He wasn’t going to derive that information if he poured over all the libraries in the world. Because, while Namjoon had prepared for your enchantments and spells, he had forgotten about your raw allure; that fateful quality that made men like him feel their most primitive instincts to mate, and awoke the feral side of him. He had protected himself against magic, but not your natural seduction.
“I have an extraordinary amount of control.” His voice was purposefully level, deep rumble in his chest as he finally answered your question. On the surface, he was calm as the ocean in summer. But upon closer inspection, his fists were clenched tightly into balls, bicep muscles taut as his entire body sat stiffly. His jaw ticked with annoyance, but a hint of lust made its way through his eyes, revealing something you’d suspected long ago.
“Oh do you?” Your bit back a grin as you moved your curls to the side, sharpened hearing picking up the slight hiss Namjoon let out at the sight of your exposed neck. How the turn tables. Though you were at an utmost disadvantage physically, and he exerted that power over you, you were about to bring him to his knees with a single flick of your tongue.
“You know, you read up on so much lore and legend,” you begin, “did you know that a siren's call can bring even the most composed men to their knees?”
A witty response was ready on the tip of his tongue, but he paused. He didn’t know what you were up to. All he knew was the tingling chill he felt down his spine from your proximity, and the expensive leather of his pants getting suffocatingly tighter by the second.
“Did you also know,” you tiptoed closer, careful not to startle his incredibly alert demeanor, “that I,” closer and closer, you leaned till you could almost feel his breath on your skin, “am part siren?”
He sucked in a sharp breath at your reveal, “No…” he whispered in disbelief. “The sirens in your part of the waters… they’re all dead. Y-you can’t be.”
“You’re right, baby. They are all dead. Courtesy of my father when he found out my mother had lied to him about her heritage all those years ago.” His eyes shone with surprise and understanding.
“That’s why your powers are stronger.” He stated simply, unable to avoid the gulp as brought your hand up to trace his pretty features. You were sure he would stop you, suddenly snap out of the haze he was in, grab your hand, and put you in your place. But he didn’t. He let you continue your ministrations as if you hadn’t longed for his touch since the moment you laid eyes on the handsome pirate.
“I don’t have the power of seduction as a siren does. My charms only go as far as my mermaid heritage allows. You took care of that, though,” you pouted, gesturing to the marks peeking out of his chest. Ancient runes, symbols to ward off unwanted magic.
“But it enhances all your powers. It’s why you’re as strong as you are.” His brain was big. He connected the dots much faster than you’d expect from a mortal.
“Hmm, you’re right. You know what else? I got an extra, secret power,” you lowered your voice, bending down to his ear. “I can read thoughts.”
Namjoon couldn’t hold back the slight jerk of his head in your direction, nor his wide eyes. He had just about lost all power during this meeting because, if you could see inside his thoughts, he was done for.
He opted for the skeptical route. Just to save his pride. Narrowing his eyes, “No... I don’t believe that. Even sirens can’t read thoughts like an open book.”
“Right again,” your cockiness a front for covering up the ache in your core every time he said something smart. You wondered if his cock was as big as his brain. If the impression they were making on his pants was anything to go by, you could imagine how utterly debauched he could make you. “Sirens sense your most intimate thoughts. Your fears, your curiosity,” your hand trailed down his neck, tickling a sensitive spot, “your desires.”
His jaw tightened. You didn’t know if it was from frustration with himself or with you. You just wanted to run your tongue down to his neck, tracing those angry features. Gods, how you wanted him. You threw your dignity out the seaport when it came to this man, this brawny, robust man. Who could probably engulf you with his large body, completely devouring a tiny thing like you.
“Poor Kim Namjoon,” you sighed in mock pity, “always too busy searching for treasures of the seas to even get your dick wet.”
You pulled away from him, putting some distance between your faces, your lips. It must’ve caught his attention and finally wiggled his tongue. “I get my dick wet.” He rumbled. “You know nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me,” you laughed. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me every time we meet? You think you, and your wandering eyes, your biting lips, are in any way discreet?” You taunted airily. He tensed up from your allegations again, but he made no move to correct you. Staring you dead in the eye, he dared you to bear the weight of your words. Do something about it. He knew you weren’t that bold.
“I can just imagine you, sitting up all high and mighty in this grand ship,” you gestured around, “pouring over your endless books and maps. Just to realize your frustration isn't coming from the lack of destination, but the attention you so crave. You probably take that ego-sized monster cock of yours in your hands, all red and veiny, angry just like you. Big hands wrapping around it, pumping frantically, grunting as you scream my name while you stain that silk shirt you stole off the back of a navy general.”
He was wrong.
You wore a smirk straight out of hell, dripping in sin and salacity. His dick twitched in his pants as he met your fiery eyes, struggling to maintain the impassiveness in his face. Instead, he just settled for locking his jaw and tightening his fist, digging his fingernails into his palm to ground him. The thoughts your words stirred, it struck a chord. He could just flat out deny it. He could. But he wouldn’t.
“And? What about it?”
Your gaze faltered slightly, clearly surprised at this turn of events. He had chosen the bolder route, one you should’ve seen coming. And, somewhere inside you, you did see it coming. Were lilty hoping that he’d become embrazened by your words rather than flustered. Knowing the large man sat in front of you needed only a push, an invitation. A tempter. It was a dangerous game. You only needed him to play it.
“Well, Captain,” you stepped closer, “I’m right here,” you slid into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as he let out a hiss, “At your disposal.”
That was all he needed to crash his lips against yours, large hands falling at your waist as grabbed you roughly, pulling you close. His kiss was no gentler, all clashing tongue and teeth. You moaned into his mouth as he overpowered you, tangling his hand in your lustrous curls. You could feel his thick thighs under you, cushioning your seat as his cock strained against his pants. Those poor buttons, they were barely holding it together.
He broke the kiss, giving you a much needed gulp of air, to instead trail down your neck, nipping harshly and marking you up. He pushed your hair up and out of the way, pressing his body against yours with his weight as he made you lean back against the dining table in his urgency. You could feel the rough bites marking you up, arousal dripping at your core with each grunt that left his lips. You focused on his shirt instead, ripping the pretty material open, buttons clinking as they sprung off into oblivion. You almost forgot yourself at the sight of his golden chest, broad muscular shoulders flexed as he held you down, tattoos scattered about his skin. Protective symbols, you recognized them as. You quirked your eyebrow. He really was smart. You let out another moan as he pushed his shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the dusty ground, sure to be trampled later. His hands came up to wrestle with your dress, one sharp tug ripping it right down the middle by the seams. You didn’t even know a dress could rip like that. He threw the shreds off your body, preoccupying your thoughts as he enveloped your breast with his mouth, wetly sucking and swirling his tongue around your nipples. The animosity between you two, the rivalry, the rage, all for you to be perched vulnerably on his lap as he manhandled your body into pleasure. Spread out to him like a perfect little whore. The title of princess long-forgotten from your mind, the moment Kim Namjoon sat you on these god-crafted thighs. He had to have been descended from Poseidon himself. There was no other explanation.
“Dirty little slut,” he growled, releasing your breast with a pop as you arched into him with a whine, “Teasing me constantly. Getting me all riled up with just a flip of your hair. Princess of the mer-people.”
“Please, Joon,” you whimpered, pushing yourself against him, clinging to his taut muscular shoulders. Your breast felt so bare without him now, your nipples so sensitive, craving his touch.
“What, princess? What does your highness want?” He taunted, leaning back, out of reach. “You want a lowly pirate’s cock? What would your people say if they saw you now?”
“What would yours?” You spit back. You were getting tired of the lack of action, the mocking, the chiding. Kim Namjoon was such a fucking tease. How dare he sit there, giant monster cock straining against his pants, muscular body in full glory, prettiest smirk painted on his face. How dare he simply sit there and not fuck you?? He was just talking. As if his men couldn’t walk in on you at any moment, looking for their captain and find you sitting naked on his lap instead.
“My men,” his smile opened into a wide smirk, “Baby, I think you know what my men would say if they knew the position I have you in. Reeled you in for information as a hostage, but you’re willing to give much more than I bargained for.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” You clicked your tongue in annoyance.
“Tell me you’ll do it.” He requested calmly.
“Do what—” you stopped in your tracks. He couldn’t be serious. Now?? “You want the necklace.” He levelled you with a serious gaze. He was feigning composure, but you could see the lust in his eyes grow with every second you sat in front of him, a full course meal just waiting for him to indulge in. He was trying to use sex for gain. You had to respect that. But he could pretend this was a negotiation all he wanted. You could feel the desire coming off him in suffocating waves. He was about to snap.
“Hm… I may be willing…” you leaned forward, pressing your perky breasts against his bare chest, “If you fuck me right.”
His breath hitched as you dipped your dainty hand into his expensive pants, holding back a shudder as you traced his cock. It felt even better in your hands than against your thigh. You could feel the girth, trace it down his long length. He was like a titan. You pulled out his cock, beautiful thing slapping against his stomach. He must’ve been descended from the gods.
“Aw, Joon,” you coo as you trail your hand down his length, revelling in the hiss he lets out. “Always thinking with that big brain of yours.” You smile coyly as you lean in, brushing your nose against his. Magic seeps from your fingers, your bracelet aiding you a charm. One you knew he’d never be able to resist. Your hand slowly pumps his cock, teasingly thumbing his tip as you work your way around his endowedness. His face loses all composure, falling prey to your actions as he throws his head back and groans.
“Do something.” He demands, hands falling to his side carelessly as you continue to stroke him. He looked at you like you were the devil as your hand started to move faster over him. You sent him a smile in return. He could feel himself falling to your feet, the way you took control of the situation. He could feel the way he melts into your hand and the power you have over him. But you feel too good for him to care now. He’s been waiting for this moment for years.
You start to feel the magic working, your hand turning into a warm stimulating spell, every touch tingling his innermost sensitive parts. He let out a loud Fuck! as his dick pulsated and he started to buck into your hands. The most put-together man you’d ever seen was falling apart by your hand right underneath you. Not your first rodeo, but something about him was different than the others.
“Holy shit,—” He panted, chair moving with each thrust of his hips, “Oh fucking hell. What are you doing to me?”
“What?” You pouted, fluttering your eyelashes innocently. “Didn’t you read about this in one of your books?”
“Fuck no—,” He gasped as you moved your hand down to his balls. Poor man was so distracted. He wouldn’t notice if the ship sank right now.
“Oh fuck, yn. Faster.” You happily obliged, watching his pretty face contort into the most sinful of expressions, pleasure coursing through his veins. His knuckles turned white from holding onto the table so tightly, his eyes screwed shut. Your hand moved as his cock swelled in your grip. You knew he wouldn’t last long. Even the most virile of men fell prey to the magic coursing through him right now. He didn’t stand a chance, no matter how big and strong he was. You tugged at the back of his hair, making him groan out as his body shuddered with pleasure. You felt the aftershocks gripping him as a wave of arousal burst forth from his cock, a loud growl leaving his throat as it splattered all over your exposed stomach.
You held back a giggle as you watched him lose his composure. It was the most beautiful of sights, comparable to one of the wonders of the world. Eyes shut, deep, growly voice, the angry red cock that still stood up tall. You could admire it for days.
Not that he'd let you.
That pretty face quickly changed from an expression of pleasure to anger. Fire raging in his eyes as he came back to his senses. He was almost in shock from the intense orgasm you drew from him.
Almost.
“Cockslut." He let out a growl at your earlier challenge, resuming his rough ministrations with a tug of your hair. "You want it so bad, don’t you? Willing to trade secrets of the sea for just a taste of my dick?”
He ripped the remaining shreds of fabric off of you, his free hand trailing down your body. Fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. He reached down to your core, dipping his hand in between your legs. You wanted to snap them shut, feeling his hand exploring the expanse of your wet cunt, collected arousal on his fingers with a cocky smirk. “Look at how wet you are at the mere thought. What is that, your siren side or your mermaid side? Or just you being a whore for me, hm?” He chuckled.
Your hips bucked into his hand instinctively as he spread your arousal around, finding your dripping hole with ease. He swirled around it, drifting near your clit, then back, but never enough to satisfy your itch. You whined with a roll of your hips, trying to feel some kind of friction.
“Oh? Princess wants to get off? You don’t want to be teased?” You nodded pitifully, eyes begging for him to touch you where you needed it. But Namjoon wasn’t about to make it that easy for you.
“Well you don’t get to yet,” he ripped his hand away from you, stuffing your mouth with it instead. You let out a yelp as you sucked on his fingers, the taste of your own essence filling your tongue. “All you get is the very seat you're on. You can use that dirty cunt to ride a pirate’s thigh instead. That is, if it isn’t below you, your highness.” Namjoon looked at you with a salacious grin. Daring you to do it.
Your eyes narrowed. Bastard.
You started to move your hips hesitantly, trying to adjust to the act you were being subjected to. Humiliation burned your face as you shifted against his thigh, watching as your arousal started to create a slick path for you.
“Good girl.” His praise only made you more ashamed, but you were too needy to care. You needed the friction, and his thick thighs were just waiting to be used. You bit back a moan as you started to adjust to a rhythm, feeling your slick create an easy slide for you on his pants. Your hands gripped his upper thigh tightly, digging in your nails as you felt the pleasure start to build.
"Oh, fuck—" you couldn't hold back the whine as he brought his big hand down to guide your hips, sitting back easily and enjoying the view.
"That's it, yn. Who's thigh are you riding like a filthy little whore?"
You didn't hear his deep voice at first, distracted with chasing your fluttering end, sparks shooting up your body every time your clit dragged across his leather bound thigh. Namjoon smashed his lips into yours in another attempt to get your attention, all tongue and tease, making you chase his lips when he pulled away. "Who's?" He demanded. "Say my name."
"Yours, Joon." You breathed, trying to keep your voice steady as your body rocked back and forth.
"That's right." He brought his mouth down to your collarbone, nipping and peppering your neck in kisses, making you lean further into him. "Slutty, just for me. My treat."
You couldn't hold back your whines as he ravished your neck, big hands coming up to tweak your nipples and play with your tits. You were getting to your edge quickly, embarrassingly quickly. With his hands touching up on you, one squeeze of your nipple in between his fingers sent you into overdrive, your hips rocking frantically against him as you tasted your orgasm.
"Go on. Cum on my thigh." He coaxed, landing a slap to your tits for good measure. It sent you over the edge. Body spasming you gushed out, heavily panting as you tried to catch your breath. You fell over his chest, allowing yourself a moment to rest.
Namjoon let you, taking a minute to admire your state. "Look at the mess you made, princess. How am I ever gonna explain this to our laundry boy?" He teased.
"What, hasn't a girl ever cum with you before?" You raised your head up off his chest before he got too cocky (too late). Someone should've told you, saving pride was kinda a no-go when you'd just rode his thigh like an animal.
"Sure, but not in the feral way you just did." His mouth stretched to show his canines. Cocky bastard. "Look."
"Doesn't matter. I made myself cum," you pushed up off of him, getting out of his lap. "You did nothing."
He grabbed your wrist before you were able to reach down to retrieve your dress. His eyes shone with something fierce, dark gaze clouded in lust. "You want me to make you cum? I'll make you cum alright." You let out a yelp as he threw you over his shoulder, revealing the smooth expanse of his back to you. You would've admired it for longer if he hadn't deposited you right back on his bed. "You're gonna regret those words ever coming out of your mouth."
You looked back up at him hovering over you, excitement blossoming in your chest. This was what you'd wanted. The way he growled as he trailed wet kisses down your body, the way he jostled you around in accordance with him, the way his mouth peppered kisses along your thighs. You gasped as he reached your sensitive pussy, drinking up all the juices you hadn't left on his discarded leather pants, now strewn about on the floor next to your dress.
"Ahh—ungh—Joon," your hands reached down to his hair, tugging as you tried to pull him away from your oversensitive clit. He wouldn't budge, his arms tightening around your thighs as he buried his face in further, tongue messily lapping you up, playing with your folds. "I can't, Namjoon. Please."
"You can and you will," he muttered against your cunt. "You asked for this."
"Just give me a second—Holy shit," You were wriggling wildly in his arms, hips bucking up from the bed as tears pricked your eyes. It felt so good beyond the pain. You couldn't help yourself.
"Stop it, yn," he warned. "Don't make me punish you. Didn't they ever teach you to behave in the almighty Oceanic kingdom?"
You pouted indignantly, moving around even more to spite him. "For your information, I'm sure my manners classes were far more sophisticated than the likes of yours, pir—Ah!" You let out a cry at the small nip to your clit. You stared down at Namjoon, but he spoke before you could even open your mouth to ask him what the hell.
"That was your punishment, but you seem to like it, princess." He looked at your leaking cunt hungrily before doing it again, earning another sharp yelp from you. "You're dripping." He chuckled, "Princess likes it rough, huh? Shoulda came to me long ago, baby."
Your cheeks burned as you tried to clamp your legs shut, but he didn't let you. Keeping your legs wide open to bury his face in there, alternating between nipping and soothing it by licking. You didn't know how much more of this you could take, already sensitive from your earlier orgasm. Your head was so cloudy with lust you couldn't even remember how you got here or what you were supposed to be doing. Lying back on his four-poster bed, all you could comprehend was what Namjoon was doing to you.
His hands held your hips down to stop you from bucking up or wriggling around too much, but your hands were still wrapped in his hair. Tugging with whines and whimpers falling from your lips as he made you succumb to him with just his mouth. But Namjoon was getting tired of telling you to keep your hands to yourself. As much as he loved the way your fingers felt in his hair, he wanted to punish you. At least a little bit, since his other punishment was turning out to be more of a treat.
"What did I tell you?" Namjoon demanded, lifting his head from your needy cunt. You whined unintelligibly, reaching out for him to pull him back. He caught your wrists in his hand, jaw locked as you met his dark gaze. Oh. He was serious.
He reached over to his bedside table, spare rope in his top drawer. He watched you wriggle and moan beneath him as he tied your hands together. "Maybe now you'll behave. Listen to what your Captain says."
"My what?!" Your voice was muffled as he flipped you over into the pillows, stomach down, ass up. You felt his weight over your body as he leaned over you, hard cock evident as he brushed your skin.
"You heard me," He whispered, taking the position to place more marks on your body, holding himself up by his forearms as you bit your lip to hold back your moans. "I'm your Captain. Say it."
"No wa—" You let out a muffled scream as he shoved your face back into the pillow. Chuckling with a kiss at your sweet spot that made you melt back into him. Fuck. He knew how to play your body like a fiddle.
"I know what'll change your mind." You waited with bated breath, anticipation floating on your skin as you heard him move around in the quiet room. Excitement fluttered in your stomach. His hands ran over your skin in a soothing way. You braced yourself.
Whatever you thought was gonna happen though, nothing could have prepared you for the hot sensation you felt on your lower shoulder, a groan leaving your lips as the hot wax he dripped started to cool immediately back into solid. "How about now? What am I now?"
"An asshole." You muttered with gritted teeth. He had your hands tied up, your face in his sheets, marks littered all over your body, and hot wax dripping down your back. And you loved it. Pussy clenching around nothing as he did it again, this time on your other side. You hissed at the initial burn, a slight pain from the high temperature. But it felt so good as he blew air onto your back cooling it back. Removing the small drops of wax with soothing fingers. "Say it," he growled. "Say it, little slut. Or I won't give you my dick."
You kept your mouth shut. You didn't need him to know how much your hole ached from how rough he was with you. You didn't need him to know the things his voice did to you. He didn't need any of that information. It was none of his business!
"C'mon baby," he cooed, his voice suddenly soft and gentle. "You're gonna be on my ship for a while now. Show me some respect."
"It'll be against my will." You snapped, voice still muffled.
His hand slipped down in between your folds, swirling in your heat as he collected arousal on his fingers. "Oh? And is this against your will?"
Beat. Then silence. Pliant, obedient silence.
"Say it, baby." He breathed. You could hear the grin in his voice. "Say you want this."
You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop yourself. "I want you. Please. Please fuck me."
One last kiss to your shoulder before Namjoon was on his knees behind you, towering over your body as he pulled your ass up. He rubbed his cock over your folds a couple of times, "That's what I like to hear. Now, who's your daddy?" In one fluid motion, he sunk into your hole, pushing your walls into a stinging stretch. You let out a pitiful moan, so loud you were sure they could hear you down in the depths of the ocean. Namjoon didn't give you any time to adjust as he started a ruthless pace. Pulling your ass cheeks apart to admire his cock going in and out.
"Look at how well your little hole takes me. Begging for my cock the way you're dripping all over it."
Every thrust had his balls slapping against your pussy. He held your hands behind your back like reins as he drove his hips into yours, jostling your body. You moaned into your pillow, the overstimulation and lack of cumming from his earlier ministrations making your pussy an absolute mess. Poor cunt didn't know what the fuck was happening. You were sure he was gonna leave bruises with his hard thrusts. Monster cock shoved deep inside you, stretching you in ways you'd never felt before.
"Who's making you feel this good?" He demanded, yanking your hair.
"You, Namjoon." You cry out.
"No, baby." He gave a harsh tug, making you whine out. "It's your Captain." He landed a thunderous spank to your ass, your cheek burning with his rough hands. He smoothed the skin over before landing another harsh smack.
"Say it." Smack! Smack! Smack! "Who am I?"
"C-Captain," you cry out, tears falling from your eyes as you lost your thoughts in a cloud of pleasure, face falling onto the pillow with your mouth open, drool leaking out. His spanks didn't stop there, though. "That's right." Smack! "You answer to me, princess."
You didn't comprehend anything else he might've said to you, too busy writhing as he took you to your edge. You could feel your wall breaking, a scream out of your mouth as you felt your orgasm crash over you. Your pussy was a spasming mess, leaking and squirting all over the place. Thoroughly spent and abused.
Your arousal hit Namjoon's chest as he fucked you through your high. He was close behind you anyway, but the sight of your squirting juices made him speed up his thrusts and bury his cock deep into you as he splattered your inner walls with his cum, flooding your pussy.
Loud pants replaced your growls and moans. Heavy breaths as you tried to calm down from the intense orgasm.
Namjoon crashed next to you, pulling himself out of you to watch his cum mixed with yours leaking out of your pussy.
"Imagine that. Spend enough time on this boat and I might knock you up—Hey, wait—" You didn't let your heart dwell on the double meaning of his crudely sweet words. It was cute, his way of saying he wanted you to stay in his life. Pirates were usually wayward in their sexual endeavors, not caring who they left their seed in or what that would lead to. But the soft kiss he was about to plant on you held more words than he could ever say. Too bad he wouldn't get the chance.
"Yn, what are you—doing, please," Such a big man, whining at your hands. Your bracelet glowed once more, releasing that deadly charm into your hands as you stroked his oversensitive cock, turning the feared captain into a mere schoolboy in your grasp.
"Sorry, Joonie." You whispered, leaning down close. Intimately. "But you'll never get the pirate kings' treasures. Better luck next time." You sent him a devilish wink before disappearing from his view. He sat up abruptly to watch you wave before jumping out of his porthole, catching the ends of your feet turning into a tail.
He made to jump up, gather his men, capture you again before all was lost. All his efforts, his plans. He wouldn't throw it away with a fight. And if that's what you wanted, that's what you were going to get.
He made to get up, but his knees buckled before he was even able to get off his bed. Fuck. You'd left him completely broken down, spent from your lustful diversion. He gave up, laying back on his bed. Closing his eyes and solidifying those long-awaited memories. Completely bound and under your spell in more ways than one.
