#and i know it's because he ingests everything like a snake

[sciderman]

Sci sorry it's me again the shit asker anon, another question, you ever have hiccups when you eat? Apparently you shouldn't eat while your having hiccups, cause it's like, a choking hazard or sumthin, not me tho I'm built different like that, but don't eat while you have hiccups is the moral I guess

i haven't had hiccups since i was 12 years old but i guess that's good to know

[billskeis]

pls create clingy tom fluffs

ᡣ𐭩 clingy tom while sick

it was two in the afternoon, you lay in bed. you put down your phone in hopes that the throbbing headache you’ve had since last night went away. you caught a cold most likely from staying out clubbing, maybe you shouldn’t have taken that stranger’s drink.

asswipe, you thought, who goes to the club sick?

“baby?? you awake? i’m back!” you hear a shout from afar with the noises of a door shutting and the rustling of plastic bags. with the shuffling of shoes assumingely being taken off, your boyfriend enters your bedroom of your parents house. they’re out on vacation and agreed to let tom stay in the meanwhile.

his face immediately drops when he sees you in your state. tissues everywhere, eye bags accompanied your face, your nose was suuuper red, which was really embarrassing but tom thought that was cute.

sweating, many blankets lay top of you as this was his way of making you feel better by letting you ‘sweat it out.’

“oh schatzi look at you, and you insisted we go out today!” he sets down the bags gently near the foot of your bed, sitting down on the mattress that dips with his weight, “tom! it’s okay! we can still go out just let me take a hot steaming shower and get ready quickly—i wanna go see that movie,” he shakes his head at you and pushes you back down to lie down as you attempt to get up.

he ruffles the head on top of your head, “as much as i love you and i wish we can go out, you’re in no state to..” he lays his head on your legs, the plush blanket cushioning him even further. “but tom—“ “no baby! i’m not letting you get up until you’re one hundred percent better, yeah?” he now grabs one of your hands to play with your fingers, admiring how they look.

you scoff, he’s being awfully stubborn for someone who can’t seem to not touch you.

“tom! get up please! i don’t want you getting sick,” “i’m not moving, your lap is comfortable.. i thought you weren’t even sick,” he snorts. rolling your eyes, you sniffle, feeling your nose becoming runny, you reach to grab a tissue to blow your nose.

“don’t get up. i’ll do it,” he gets up as fast as his body lets him and grabs a tissue from the box on your bedside table. holding the tissue up to your nose, you blow, he pinches the tissue to catch all that came out. “better?” he asks, you nod obligingly.

that was pretty nasty but oh well whatever floats his boat i guess.

he then bends down to grab something from the bag, opening the lid, he shakes a pill into his hand. “take this, i know you don’t like these but i at least got the strawberry flavour you liked,” you pouted, staring at him.

ingesting the pill, he quickly holds the glass of water to your mouth to drink it. knowing that pills are particularly hard for you to take, he knows that by drinking water after conditions your body to take it in easier.

the pill was sweet, yet the flavour that lingered on your tongue was only for a second being washed by the water.

he kisses the side of your cheek, “good job pretty,” tom began taking of his sweater and swiftly entered the bed to cuddle beside you. “um hello? do you not remember what current state i’m in?” moving your head a bit, his arm snakes under the side of your neck to hold you closer to him, “relax i’m not going to get sick, you baby, just let me hold you.”

“wow cannot get enough of me huh, after the way you were dancing with me last night?” “you were super hot that night couldn’t help my self, plus, i’m only doing this because you’re weak and cute,” you scoff, is he serious? “yeah right.”

he laughs at you and just kisses your forehead, you then peak down to look at the many things he bought from his little trip. they were all your favourite snacks. medicines, tea bags, oh, and more medicine.

on a side note, being the twin who was basically immune and had to always take care of fragile bill, he has a known habit to panic and instead of asking for help, his stubborn ass buys everything in the store, gambling on which medicine to take and hoping for the best.

luckily for you, he had bill to teach him properly which ones to buy, but habits never die do they?

now you weren’t hungry or feeling snackish, so you just lay with tom, nuzzling your head into his chest. he’s warm, warm and comfortable, and you’re so grateful to have someone like him.

kissing the top of your forehead, he switches on your TV to put on a show the two of you both like. “i’m feeling better already,” “i’m glad baby, you’ll be back to shape in no time, well, because of me of course!”

that whole day, tom would not leave your side. even when you had to go to the bathroom. he’d sit inside the room until you finished and would wash your hands for you.

he says that the joint effort of doing it with you gets rid of the germs better.

this was just his excuse to keep touching you in some sort of way.

you enter the room with a bucket of cold water and a towel. setting it down, you soak the towel into the basin and ring out any excess. folding the towel to fit, you place the now cold compress onto tom’s forehead who’s laying in your bed.

“i told you, silly, that you’d get sick.” you shake your head in disapproval to see tom frown. he looks up at you even though it’s hard for him to keep his eyes open. now we did say tom barely ever gets sick, but once in a blue moon when he does, hits him HARD.

“what can i say? i can never get enough of you, need to be with you all the time,” “you’re corny,” “and you love it.”

[zerobasekazuha]

Okay so probably a very cliche thing to write about BUT im a SUCKER for it

Venture notices fem!reader is getting hit on at a party and glares at the person doing it the entire time. Once the reader and venture get home, they immediately press her against the wall and “questions” her. Aka, they get jealous as HELL 😈

BONUS POINTS IF VENTURE CALLS THE READER “PRINCESS” i am a major softie for it 💕

Sorry for the late response so to make up for it I’ll make this extra juicy 😝

Sloan didn’t want to go to this pity party the wayfinders decided to put on. Everybody was able to bring guests and just enjoy themselves how they wanted to. Sloan decided to bring their partner Y/n. She looked absolutely stunning in their eyes and behind her they looked like a lovesick puppy.

However with that it also meant that they had to be extra protective over her. They didn’t want anybody thirsting over what was theirs. Y/n was their angel and everything they could ever ask for. Sloan was blessed to even be able to breathe the same air as her. As much as she told them she wasn’t anything special Sloan refused to believe it.

There had been somebody at the party who made Sloan uncomfortable. It was this guy who seemed to be thirsting on whats theirs. It annoyed them, but without probable cause they couldn’t do anything about it.

The night progressed and as it did the guy seemed to be making moves at Y/n. Sloan was slightly tipsy from the alcohol they ingested while conversing with their team. They looked across the room at the guy leaning against the wall talking to Y/n. They could feel their heart drop to their feet.

But they knew deep in their heart she wouldn’t do anything to them. The way the guy looked at her made Sloans blood boil. But it seemed Y/n didn’t notice. They came over snaking an arm around Y/ns waist and casually joining the conversation. But it seemed the guy didn’t take the hint.

Each lighthearted joke, each compliment to her, the way his eyes scanned her body like she was just some meat irked Sloan. Enough that they decided they wanted to leave early. But they couldn’t just say that. They would feel bad if they forced Y/n to leave so soon.

“Wow I’m so tired! It’s so late.” Sloan fake yawned as they looked at Y/n. She knew what was up because Sloan never usually got tired this early. She nodded agreeing with them. “Yeah it really is, we should get home.” Sloan mentally cheered as the two. Said their goodbyes and eventually went to the home they shared.

As soon as the door closed behind Y/n, Sloan pushed her against the wall, their eyes looking down at her almost with jealousy. But she was focused on how long and pretty their eyelashes were.

“Somebody was being a bit too friendly.” They said with their voice laced with venom. Their hands rested on the soft curves of her body. “What? Sloan I-“ “He was flirting, you and I both know that.” Y/n didn’t say much. It was true. She knew that he was flirting but she didn’t entertain it. Why would she?

“Did you like the attention? Hm? If you just wanted attention mi dulce princesa you could have just asked.” Sloan knew how their Spanish affected her. Like it was a cheat code to get her to fold.

“I-I no- It’s not..” But there wasn’t a good enough excuse. Maybe she did want attention. But it’s not like she would ask them for it. She expected them to just know.

“You’re such a terrible liar. If you wanted me to compliment you I would have told you that you were prettier than any star in the sky. Or maybe you wanted to be lusted over. Seen as sexy? And god you really are.”

Sloan looked from her eyes to her lips. Then to her neck. They leaned in and kissed her neck, softly biting upon some parts of it. They then went up and kissed her gently. Some of her darker red lipstick going onto their lips.

“I’ll give you all the attention you could ever ask for tonight, hermosa princesa.”

Cliffhanger!! But I might continue it just lmk if I should, possessive Venture I need them sm

[acescorazon]

I LOVE YOUR FIC CHANGES!!!!! I HOPE YOU UPDATE SOON!!!!!

THANK U BBYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. ILY MUAH. I was updating like every day but then i got my period... i mean i fell into a pit of darkness and didn't have the energy to climb out. How bizarre. ANYWAYS, HERE'S YOUR FOOD.

Title: Changes Ch: 5/?

Rating: M (I'm just putting that as the rating in general for every ch lol)

Word count:2291

Warnings: Depressed clown :(

Chapter excerpt:

"Mihawk keeps asking about you," Mohji announces all of a sudden, "He keeps asking if you're okay and if your illness is something serious." Hawkeye keeps asking about him… Why? To know if he's died yet? What a joke! That man doesn't care about Buggy, why is he even wasting his breath asking about him? "I just keep telling him that you have the flu, and he's always like, 'Ah…is that so? Tell him I hope he feels better.' Isn't that…ridiculous?!" Yeah, that is rather ridiculous.  Buggy has a hard time believing that Mihawk is genuinely concerned about him, but at the same time, he can't imagine why he'd just pretend to care either. It's weird.

|Ch1|Ch2|Ch3|Ch4|

The next several days are on an endless loop for Buggy. He stays in bed all day, unwilling to come face to face with Mihawk after his little drunken rant from days prior, afraid of what Mihawk will say to him now that he's completely sober. So, he stays in bed, either sleeping or lost in thought. He should be preparing men, supplies, and their new flagship for departure, but he can't bring himself to do it. At the very least he should be making sure everything on Emptee Bluffs Island is going smoothly, and yet… he doesn't care about that either. 

Being in Cross Guild is so…exhausting.

Crocodile has called for meetings every single day, and every day, Buggy has one of his men lie and say he's sick. He's missed about 10 meetings now, he thinks. He can't remember, everything is starting to blend in together. All he knows is that sooner or later Crocodile is going to get pissed and come looking for him, and then what? Beat him up? Threaten him? Actually, kill him this time? 

Man, who cares?

Cabaji, Mohji, and Richie, often come by and sit with him, usually overly worried about Buggy's well-being and not believing him when he says he's just sick or tired, but of course, Buggy always tells them that he's fine. 

Today, they're with him again, sitting by his bed and trying to get him to eat some of the sea king the other members of the crew somehow caught and killed today. "Captain…" Mohji sighs, "Come on, at least take a couple of bites." He asks, but he sounds more like he's begging than asking. "You've hardly eaten anything these last few days." While that is very true, it's because Buggy doesn't have much of an appetite these days, nothing tastes right or really interests him, and god knows he doesn't have the energy to make his own food…just… he just wants to sleep.

Buggy sits in his bed, slightly peeved that Cabaji and Mohji insist he sit up in general, and looks down at the sea king on his plate. He's not normally a picky eater, you can't be picky when you've spent most of your life at sea, but… this thing reminds him eerily of a poison dart frog with its vibrant color and spots, yet at the same time, it's got fins and a body like a snake... He doubts his men would actually cook up something poisonous, they aren't that naive…but still, Buggy has no interest in this fish..frog…snake thing. 

But if he did die from ingesting it…that'd just be his luck, wouldn't it? Death seems… inescapable at this point, and he often wonders just what or who will end up taking his life first. "I'm not hungry," Buggy repeats, but Mohji and Cabaji seem determined today.

 

"Just take a couple of bites, please, Captain?" Mohji practically begs, "Just a couple, it's actually really good!" Doubt it, Buggy thinks. 

Cabaji follows suit, "Yeah, just take a couple of bites and if you don't like it, you don't have to eat the whole thing! We'll just feed the rest to Richie, right, Mohji?" 

"Right!" 

Buggy really doesn't want to eat anything, but he hates to make the other two worry, so he ends up taking a couple of bites of his lunch, and yeah, it isn't bad…it's one of the better-tasting sea kings that he's had, this one actually tastes like chicken despite its weird appearance, but Buggy still only eats a couple of bites, just enough to get the other two off his back and then hands Mohji his plate to give to Richie. 

He wants to lie back down, but the others won't let him. "Um, Captain?" Cabaji calls out, seemingly a little nervous, "Uh, how about I run you a warm bath and…uh, How about I help you wash and brush your hair today?" Cabaji suggests with a small grin. Oh, yeah, basic needs are a thing. Man, Buggy really doesn't care about any of that stuff anymore, he's going to die anyways, so what's the point? He'll just ask one of his men to make him look nice for his funeral. 

"Okay?" Cabaji asks, still smiling.

Buggy understands what this really is about. This is a very polite and roundabout way of telling him he needs to bathe, but none of his men would ever outright tell him he stinks so they have to use words like, 'Oh, how about I run you a bath and help you wash your hair today?' Or, 'Wow, you look like you need to relax…how about a nice bath?' 

Whatever. 

Buggy lets Cabaji run him a bath, and he sits and waits in bed while he prepares everything for him. He watches Richie eat his leftover sea king, and can't help but think how nice it'd be to be a lion, well, actually a cat. If reincarnation exists, he thinks he'd like to live a carefree life as a cat, a spoiled one too. Being a pirate isn't something he thinks he'd want to do again unless he could live a life with his old crew again, this time a happy one that isn't cut short, maybe then he'd be a pirate again... Or he could be a star in the sky, that'd be nice. 

"Mihawk keeps asking about you," Mohji announces all of a sudden, "He keeps asking if you're okay and if your illness is something serious." Hawkeye keeps asking about him… Why? To know if he's died yet? What a joke! That man doesn't care about Buggy, why is he even wasting his breath asking about him? "I just keep telling him that you have the flu, and he's always like, 'Ah…is that so? Tell him I hope he feels better.' Isn't that…ridiculous?!" Yeah, that is rather ridiculous.  Buggy has a hard time believing that Mihawk is genuinely concerned about him, but at the same time, he can't imagine why he'd just pretend to care either. It's weird.

"Crocodile has asked about you too, but only once, and when I told him you had the flu, he rolled his eyes at me and went: 'Of course that dumb clown is sick.' And then walked away! I tell ya, I don't know what the others see in those two!" Mohji frowns, "They're so mean to you! I… I think if we all banned together then we could…you know…." He whispers the next part of his sentence, "Show them who's boss."

Honestly if Buggy thought he and or his crew had a chance against Mihawk and Crocodile, then he would have had both of them taken out a long time ago, but he knows even with an army of men, he couldn't take out one of his business partners, let alone both. It's a fun thought though, "Let's not waste our time," Buggy replies, exhaling a long, shaky sigh, "Besides, it's like I told you before, I can handle those two! Do you really think I'd let them beat and bully me?!" 

Mohji just stares at him from his seat, obviously not convinced but he doesn't push the subject any further, and thank God for that.

Cabaji reappears a few moments after that, telling Buggy his bathwater is ready, and in all honesty, Buggy rather not do this, but he doesn't feel like hearing the other two complain either. He follows Cabaji into the bathroom and tells him he can at least bathe himself, and somewhere at the back of Buggy's mind he feels like he should feel more ashamed by the situation, but he doesn't. His former captain always told him that good friends don't judge you when you're at your lowest times and that they instead help you when no one else will, and so maybe that's why he has no guilt about letting Cabaji wash his hair. He'd do the same for him and then some. He and Mohji are more than just subordinates, they're friends, no, they're family, and honestly Buggy doesn't deserve either one of them. 

As he washes Buggy's hair, Cabaji also tells Buggy that Mihawk keeps asking about him. Again, Buggy finds the idea of Mihawk asking all of Buggy’s crew about his well-being almost comical. Did the world’s strongest swordsman grow a heart? Ha, as if. Or maybe Buggy’s earlier suspicions are correct, maybe Mihawk’s waiting, hoping that Buggy’s ‘flu’ will take him out and that he won’t have to deal with him anymore, which honestly seems like a more realistic explanation for everything. 

A hot bath and a nice relaxing hair wash later, and Buggy’s sitting on the small couch in his room, getting his hair brushed by Cabaji as he listens to both Mohji and Cabaji ramble on about this and that, and occasionally bicker over trivial things. It feels like his men are the only consistency in his life, but he wonders if there will be a day when even that changes. Maybe he’ll end up with so many men that their crew will seem more like an army than a family, then again maybe he won’t live to see the day when that’s actually a problem. And if that doesn’t happen, then maybe Mihawk will eventually end up replacing Buggy’s crew with a new, more efficient one that he hardly knows let alone can consider his family…who knows?

Now, as stated before, Buggy’s usual visitors consist of Mohji, Cabaji and Richie, but today Buggy finds himself getting an additional guest in his room. Sometime around late afternoon Alvida joins Buggy’s already boisterous company, and as soon as she realizes Buggy’s perfectly fine, she sighs at him,”I knew you weren’t sick.” she mutters as she has a seat on the couch next to him after Cabaji and Mohji fight over who’s spot she can take, “But oh well, you won’t believe what I just saw.” She says, grinning. 

Hopefully, she saw Crocodile and Mihawk board a ship and sail as far away from the island as possible, never to return again, but that’s just not realistic, is it? “What did you see?” Buggy asks though he’s not particularly curious about her gossip today.

“Mihawk and Crocodile were fighting.”

“Crocodile and Mihawk bicker every once in a while, so what?” 

“No, they were actually physically fighting earlier.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know but they were both heated,” Alvida claims, “I think they reached a draw, but they were fighting for a long time, half the island saw it.”

Despite claiming that he doesn’t care about either of the two, Buggy’s slightly curious about Mihawk and Crocodile’s altercation. Sure they’ve butt heads a couple of times in the past because Crocodile is so damn overbearing and of course, Mihawk doesn’t take being bossed around lightly, but they never get physical with things, it’s usually just threats of possible fights that don’t go anywhere. Maybe that was it, maybe Crocodile just got too controlling again, and Mihawk got tired of it. He did say he was tired of Crocodile’s shit the other day… Yeah, that’s got to be it…Because what else could it be???

…

A couple of more days go by after that, and Buggy’s still stuck in that same loop: Sleep. Overthink. Sleep. Overthink. Sleep. Overthink. Of course, there are brief things that break the cycle like Mohji and Cabaji checking on him and feeding him and making sure he’s being taken care of, but other than that, it’s just sleep, overthink, repeat. He just doesn’t see the point in getting out of bed every day when Mihawk and Crocodile are just going to make his life a living hell, or worse, end his miserable existence. 

Despite all his stress though, there are times when his bedroom is rather comforting, he knows that it offers him no real protection from the outside world, but in his room he feels safe and like he’s miles away from all his problems even though they’re literally just right outside. He thinks he’s missed, hm…12 meetings now, maybe 13 …14? Who knows, he’s surprised that Crocodile is even still calling for them, or that he hasn’t come barging into his room to yank him out of his bed and beat him to death for ruining his perfect schedule.

Buggy doesn’t care about Cross Guild though (or for much of anything right now) he never has and he doubts he ever will. He’s perfectly fine just keeping himself locked away in his bedroom for as long as possible. Mohji will take care of the others and if he doesn’t, then Alvida will, and if she doesn’t, then Buggy’s sure that Crocodile and Mihawk will boss his men around, but they’re strong, spirited, and oblivious, they can handle anything. 

Something breaks his seemingly endless depressive cycle by the time he’s missed 18 meetings…or was it 19?

One of his men comes into his room around midmorning, like always, and tells him that a meeting has been called… But today, Mihawk’s the one who’s called for the meeting apparently, and Buggy instantly tells his subordinate to tell Mihawk that he’s still under the weather and can’t go to the meeting, to which his subordinate replies, “He says it’s urgent, Chairman Buggy, and that if you can’t go to the meeting room, that he’ll bring the meeting here instead.”

That’s got to be the worst, no, actually, the second worst thing he’s been told in his entire life. Why? Why now? Why can’t Mihawk and Crocodile just hold their dumb meetings by themselves? It’s not like Buggy gets to make any decisions or his input matters, why does he have to leave his safe space and go see them?

((A/n: Hate how they didn't add ChouChou to the live-action or Richie. The idea that some of you might not know that Richie is a lion and you might think he's just some guy is funny though lol.))

[pemberlyprose]

Mycelium and Mexican Gothic

While sitting and listening to music, I got thinking about Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. Over the past few days, I have been ruminating on what I'd like to write about regarding this story and how it has affected me. Typically, my process for writing essays, formal or informal, involves a lot of black tea and annotating.  Today, inspired by Hozier and Noah Khan, I want to have a brief interpretation/contemplation of a single topic instead: mushrooms being a metaphor for toxic family dynamics in Mexican Gothic. 

SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THIS NOVEL! 

(Also, this is highly summarized because I am a creature fueled by caffeine and chaos and can't be bothered right now. Please forgive any errors).

Taking place in the isolated mountains of Mexico's countryside, Mexican Gothic points a crooked and mishappen finger at the horrors lying beneath the Doyle family's history and home. Noemi, the protagonist of the story, arrives to the Doyles' house to call into question the care of her cousin, Catalina, who has been sending frantic and incoherent letters about voices and apparitions since moving into her English husband's home. As Noemi spends time with the Doyle family, and her cousin, she begins to unravel more of their secrets. Eventually she becomes so deeply involved that, before she knows it, she is taken prisoner. 

Now there is a patriarchal element to this novel that I find fascinating. The Doyles' are made immortal by becoming hosts for "The Gloom" a conscious mushroom network that has inhabited thier bodies, home, and minds for centuries. The Gloom controls the house and thier minds, but it is Howard Doyle, the patriarchal figure, who physically and spiritually controls his family. God-like in power, he has been ingesting these mushrooms for hundreds of years. So, to maintain his power, and in return for making his family immortal, they must give up thier lives, bodies, and offspring to him when necessary for the most henious reasons. 

Like a snake, he stays alive by sliding from body to body, consciousness to consciousness, and he cannot be stopped. Meanwhile, those he takes over are completely erased from existence or thier consciousness remains trapped in The Gloom. They become an echo... A phantom in the house they have lived and died in for the rest of time. All in the name of tradition and family. 

This is a great allegory of how family, tradition, and generational trauma can affect the living. Our bodies store memories from hundreds of years ago, and whether we know it or not, feel it or not, our family members have weaved their genetic memories into our bodies. We are a mycelium of memories. It is in our blood and stretches out to those joining our families and learning our customs. 

Of course, at least I hope, most of the time this is not in a creepy The Last of Us kind of way, but in a loving and grounding ancestral kind of way. I believe there is always more good than bad. However, regardless of patriarchal or matriarchal themes, this novel does an excellent job of illuminating the expectations children feel pressured to meet (in the most extreme way) to please/satiate a parental or authority figure. It's also an incredibly creepy and interesting way to examine the lengths families, even unrelated groups of people, will go to preserve a way of life. Even when it goes against everything they stand for morally and physically. 

I also wondered to myself, why mushrooms? Lately in popular culture we are seeing a rise of mushroom media, and although humankind has always had a certain reverence for them, this novel along with shows like The Last of Us call into question where this circulated fear of being taken over by mushrooms comes from. I don't have an answer for this, but it is a dynamic question to contemplate. 

Why do we fear being taken over by nature? Is it our physical minds we fear losing, or our autonomy in the abstract? Would we even notice it was happening, or would we find out too late like Noemi in Mexican Gothic? Could we escape even after we were captured? 

I don't know. But what I do know is if any of these themes strike your fancy check out this brilliant novel. It truly had me on the edge of my seat all night.

**If you are interested in this story, please note that it is a gothic novel and has many triggering themes surrounding gore, sexual content, and horror. Always do research before reading if you are unsure :) Stay safe out there. 

[endlich-allein]

I wonder why Till picked eels as his tattoo. I mean, it’s a big one! I guess we’ll never know.

Now I understand what they meant when they said “everything he does is extreme”. Most people get a tattoo, then maybe another one, and he goes in and -bam!- covers his entire back.

The eel nest... That's a good question ! It's true that it's a big tattoo, and according to the tattoo artist, Till didn't move an inch during the days he worked on it, I really don't know how he did it but as he has a great resistance to pain, that must help.

Only Till, and maybe the artist who tattooed it, know the true meaning of this tattoo, so I can only offer you interpretations (this is going to be a long answer) (and before anyone asks, yes I had researched the meaning of eels before, I know it's weird).

There are two mentions of eels in Till's works : the first explicit in Knebel's video ; and the second in the lyrics of the song 'Mutter' ("In ihren Lungen wohnt ein Aal" / "An eel lives in her lungs").

Knebel's version is interesting because according to Éloïse Mozzani : "Ingesting the hot heart gives the talent of prophecy and [...] it "will bring back to life everything that will be presented, and will restore it to life as before". (I don't remember any other mentions either in the lyrics or in the poems...)

It is Knebel's video that is chosen by artist Randy Engelhardt in his presentation of Till's tattoo.

The eel is a snake-like fish with a slimy body, reduced fins, able to breathe out of the water and which lives in rivers, ponds and meadows but goes to the middle of the oceans to lay there. It is sometimes confused with the snake, and therefore its symbolism too, just as it resembles the serpent and the dragon of the Middle Ages.

In French, there is an expression which says : "il y a anguille sous roche" (literally "there are eels under the rock") which amounts to expressing one's perplexity vis-à-vis a situation that one considers questionable. A second expression says : "filer comme une anguille" ("flee like an eel") which is said of something that escapes without being able to hold it, on which nothing can be founded.

The eel is intimately linked to water as an element and to the moon as a guide because eels find their way thanks to the moon. And indeed, a study conducted at the Norwegian Institute of Marine Research has just confirmed that the moon influences the migration of these fish.

For Jean Chevalier and Alain Gheerbrant in their 'Dictionary of symbols' : "The eel - for us elusive and a symbol of dissimulation - is linked both to the snake by its morphology and to aquatic symbols by its habitat. It was, in the Ancient Egypt, the emblem of the Harsomtous of Dendera, rising sun, symbol of the primordial manifestation emerging from the waters. A familiar animal in Japan, it is considered there as a divine messenger : iconography associates it with the turtle. [...] At a lower level, the eel unites the symbolisms of the snake and water. It has kept a sexual connotation in modern slang which sometimes uses the image "eel in the underwear" to designate the penis."

In my native region, Brittany (West of France), the eel is sacred, as Éloïse Mozzani confirms in her book 'The Book of Superstitions, Myths, Beliefs and Legends' : "According to a belief in the Middle Ages, eating eel was harmful to the voice and made young girls sassy with men. However, these few pernicious effects were nothing compared to the magical and medicinal properties attributed to a fish whose divine character the ancient Egyptians recognized - only priests were authorized to consume it - just like the Bretons of the last century and the Japanese who still consider it a divine messenger."

For Didier Colin author of the 'Dictionary of symbols, myths and legends' : "[...] the eel is a symbol of secrecy, mystery, concealment, but also of something which escapes us, which slips between the fingers, which one cannot retain, grasp, understand. However, because it lives in clear waters, it has a much less bad reputation than the snake. [...] The appearance of an eel in a dream can therefore announce to you that "there is an eel under the rock", that is to say that you are being told something that you will not take long to learn, or that you are hiding a a fact of which you will soon have the revelation ; Similarly, in the tradition of omens, seeing a living eel swimming at the surface of the water is the announcement of a secret that will be revealed to us or of a confidence that will be made to us. to find an eel under a rock is to learn a surprising fact that we did not know, but which nevertheless existed without our knowledge. To see a dead eel is to discover a fact relating to a past circumstance or an event which is no longer relevant, but which was concealed from us in its time, or of which we were fooled."

For Melissa Alvarez, author of 'Meet Your Energy Animal', the eel is defined by the following characteristics : "The eel symbolizes transformation, mystery, disguise and hiding. The eel is excellent at using camouflage to protect itself from predators. It is fast and swims by moving her body in a sinusoidal fashion. The eel's electric shock can produce a six hundred volt shock that paralyzes its prey. The eel tends to have poor vision, and it relies on its radar-like sense of perception to search for food. During the day, she buries herself in the mud and rests there until she is ready to go back to hunting. It talents are : Attractiveness ; Ability to relate ; Flexible ; Privacy ; Night ; Sens of observation ; Sensuality ; Vitality. And it challenges : Evasive ; Reserve ; Too cautious ; Lonely ; Fleeing."

John Matthews makes it a powerful totem in his book 'Celtic Animal Totems, A Shamanic Journey to Meet Your Allied Animal' : "A great source of wisdom and inspiration like the salmon (on which it feeds), the he eel also has a reputation for protection. Irish mythology suggests that certain eels could transform into destructive weapons when wielded by a warrior. This is how the name of the famous spear Gae-Bolg belonging to Cuchulainn, comes from the Eel Morrigan herself assumes the form of an eel in magical combat with Cuchulainn. Given its ability to insinuate itself into the least accessible places, the eel is an ally of choice when seeking the answer to a difficult question, requiring subtlety and flexibility in its approach. Totem precepts :

Pathfinder : Anything can go like water flows.

Protector : Beware of treacherous currents.

Challenger : Actions always have consequences.

Hint : The deep waters contain treasures."

There must surely be other meanings to this animal, and an intimate meaning specific to Till of which only he can speak. But I think it might give you some directions...

[casspurrjoybell-30]

Howling Love - Chapter 19

*Warning Adult Content*

Amille Laurent

Camryn's car came to a screeching stop as he parked haphazardly by my house, just outside the garage, luckily he hadn't driven past the driveway into dad's flowers, or otherwise there would've been hell to pay when he woke up.

"Go, I'll get our stuff and follow you," he asserted reassuringly and I nodded, got out of his car and sped walk to the front door, used my key card and got in, I knew what I needed to do first in order to understand the poison that had been used on my dad, my only worry was the time and the ingredients needed to make the antidote.

I didn't have enough of either but I had faith and determination.

So I made my way up to the second floor, then the attic where I knew dad had set up the lab equipment because he was making patents for his new lotion, luckily everything seemed pristine, leave it to my dad to never make a mess.

Quickly I grabbed vials, tubes and solutions, setting the equipment I needed to separate the toxin from the blood and analyze.

"Whoa, I feel like I've just entered a whole other part of your life," Camryn muttered behind me and I scoffed, of course he would find something sweet to say to me about this.

"Need help?" he asked as I placed the last vial where I needed it.

"Yes, check the containers in there if we have any of these ingredients?" I told him whilst typing on my tablet what he needed to check.

"Oakwood sap, really?" he scrunched up his face like always when he was skeptical but I nodded.

[Yes, really] I assured and he accepted going to the neatly placed containers.

After two hours of waiting, with Camryn keeping me from letting my mind wander off with his ridiculous stories of his almost accidents, it was finally ready.

"What are we looking at exactly?" he asked as we stood side by side viewing the results on one of the lab tablets.

"Wolfsbane, redwood, concentrated silver, a variation of snake venom and wait, this marker is for ver-vain but mixed with something else, widowswail..." Camryn trailed off after listing what was on the screen, it was such a complex combination of toxins and ingredients, it could've easily killed a child, it's why dad got sick immediately after ingesting it, enough of it would've killed everyone at the party.

"How did something like this get into your dad's drink specifically, why not all of us?" Camryn demanded and that exactly was my question too, how did something so horrible find it's way into my dad's cup, why not all the other wolves there at the party.

[I don't want to point fingers but this does not seem coincidental] I signed and Camryn nodded eagerly.

"Someone meant for this to get into his cup but who?" he growled out and despite my own curiosity and bubbling anger.

I needed to get the antidote ready and the accelerant, then deal with whoever tried to kill my dad.

So I turned to the list I had given Camryn and we had a few ingredients missing.

[We need mountain ash, white oak bark, fuschia leaves, damphier roots and for the accelerant we need one ingredient, red thorn leaves, it's a well known herb used by healers on werewolves to accelerate healing by chewing the leaves but it doesn't grow in a normal garden, it's unpredictable and tends to choke other plants] I explained to Camryn showing him the images of the ingredients we needed and he nodded in return.

"I know the places marked here to get them but one of these is in the heart of rogue territory, it won't be easy to get," he explained and with that I deflated, I needed the accelerant for dad.

"It doesn't mean we can't go, he's not just your dad anymore short-stack, mine too and if leave now, it'll take about a day and half to get it all," he finally concluded and all I wanted was to hug Camryn.

I was grateful that he was willing to go through all this just to help my dad, it made tears well up in my eyes as he hugged me.

"I got you choco-moose and I'm not letting go," he assured me as we stayed in that hug for a moment longer, then we parted to get ready.

[We're going to need collection bags, that can preserve the ingredients, we also need hiking boots, in fact hiking equipment] I paused as he chuckled.

[What's funny?] I demanded using my phone.

"I never thought our first night or the rest of our lives knowing we're mates would start out with me taking you into the wild," he stated and it caused me to laugh as well.

[I blame you, you're the roguish wolf] I teased and he growled playfully.

"Oh if I'm to blame then I'm sure you can handle this roguish wolf, when he gets wild," he argued pouncing on me playfully, causing more laughter and a refreshing wave of happiness to flow into me, despite what we were headed into, he was still the same Camryn and I was happy.

After getting everything we needed, including my dad's old hiking gear which was what fit Camryn, and of course tons of bottles of water, we had settled into his car.

"Are you ready?" he questioned as he held out his large hand for me, it was warm, enveloped mine fully and reassured me of so many things, he was here with me, so I nodded, I was ready.

So he peeled out of the driveway and sped down the road, it should've terrified me but I guess there was a reason why he and I were mated, the speed, the acceleration, the rush, it was exhilarating for some reason and he smiled my way, as we left an unusual dust trail behind us.

As a sufficient three hours of driving passed, out of pack territory and out of Bridgeton, we finally stopped at a gas station which was positively in the middle of nowhere.

[We need to head east into the woods from here, but there are no roads from here on out, so we have to start that hike] I told him and he nodded after filling the tank.

"Great, I'll talk to the station attendant and see if we can leave the car here, I'll be right back," he explained, placing a kiss on my forehead before taking off inside the slightly rundown gas station shop.

About five minutes later Camryn came back and I had taken what we needed from the trunk.

[What did they say?] I asked in sign language.

"Haggled a bit but he agreed, I'll park it in his garage, he says it's safer there," he explained and I nodded, as I stood to wait for him to park.

Within a few minutes Camryn and I had taken off into the woods, after showing him the map, he had easily found a trail which led where we were going.

I didn't miss how alert he got, he seemed to be in his element and as a wolf, I could tell, the wild was his home, it's how he could navigate so easily, pick up danger before we even encountered it.

"Stop," he lowly hissed as I froze in place, a minute or two passed, I wanted to question why he had abruptly made us stop until I saw the dull gleam of dark grey almost black scales in the grass just yards away from us.

"Black mamba, extremely poisonous but it seems to have had it's fill already so we'll just circle around to be cautious," he explained and that's how I finally breathed a heavy sigh of relief, thanking the Moon Goddess for not just giving me a mate who was an engine junkie but a primal predator too, despite how horrible that sounded.

Another hour of walking had us finding our destination, it was in a small clearing.

I was elated to actually find more than one of the ingredients we needed.

"Isn't that fuchsia?" Camryn asked as we hurriedly walked to where a field of it blew freely in the wind.

[It is and that's damphier, we did it] I happily replied as soon enough I had carefully dug out the plant roots and more so we could grow it at home, then the fuchsia as well.

"It's getting hot, we need to get back to the gas station, get you fed and continue toward that," Camryn mentioned as in the distance he was pointing in.

I could see the outline of a mountain, and since we had travelled well into the afternoon, he was right, it was getting hot and late, so I nodded, we indeed needed to get a move on.

I could only hope getting these ingredients was this easy.

[getmemymicroscope]

So, yes, I picked this up because, well, they were turning it into a movie. There was a while back in like high school or undergrad or something where I did that pretty frequently - and it usually ended pretty badly (Jumper, I Am Number Four, The Time Traveler's Wife all come to mind). So, to no surprise, this attempt also goes similarly. Maybe my expectations were just too high, as I guess always happens when I pick up a book thinking "this must be good, they're making a movie out of it."

Now that I've read the book (or, well, most of it, I guess), it makes the casting decision of the movie even more, well, stupid. Because Brad Pitt is not Nanao. But I won't hate on that decision - because, well, all I've done thus far is read the book. And after reading the book, I'm not sure I'll even watch the movie. At least not for a very long time.

I'm a big believer that you have to be in the right mood for a movie/book or, no matter how good it might be, you're gonna be disappointed. Or worse. And I just don't know when I'd ever be in the mood for something like this, or, more accurately, for some of the characters in this book.

Like, fine, you go in knowing it's a bunch of assassins on a train. I get that. So there's clearly going to be some death and it's not like I'm expecting a bunch of morally great characters. But the problem is, there isn't much of anything at all. It's a slow-paced story that features frequent flashbacks - many, if not all, involving a completely antisocial teenager, features countless references to Thomas the Tank Engine (one of the character's reference point for everything) and not enough references to other books (another character's favorite activity), features the cooler characters being killed off much sooner than the one annoying one, and features... I don't know. I feel this is the type of story that, as a movie, would be a 'black comedy,' but I'm really failing to see the comedy part of it. It's just horrifically pathetic people all on a train together, doing horrific things simply because they can (or, in one person's case, because they have nothing but bad luck the entire time and bad stuff just happens as a result).

There are some actions sequences, but they end with: accidental broken neck when the train goes around a bend; a man getting himself shot by falsely admitting he's the "boss;" a man dying because he, while in a moment of advantage, suddenly has a previously ingested sleeping powder kick in; something with a random snake that shows up, then disappears, then shows up again (Chekhov's gun, I guess; I don't fully know what happened with the snake because I'd given up by that point and only just saw the snake re-mentioned during my skimming of the last like 115 pages).

There's a lot of seemingly pseuo-philosophical brief discussions interspersed between characters, but it almost feels like they're just there to increase the word count as opposed to actually get anything across, especially given that none of our characters really give a shit beyond bringing stuff up and just moving on at a whim.

Honestly, I sorta reached ultimate frustration/annoyance at the sewing needle scene (though I got more and more annoyed with every single scene that Prince, or The Prince, or whatever the fuck, showed up; by far, the worst/most annoying character of the lot), and after the two deaths in rapid succession - the second aided by that sleeping powder - I just quit. Skipped to the end, though honestly, I didn't even really care how it ended.

[houseofhurricane]

In ACOMAF and ACOWAR, our favorite characters are dealing with a mysterious substance that renders them incapable of performing magic: faebane. 

I found this plotline interesting, but didn’t think much more about it until I came across this scene, early on in ACOWAR:

Lucien stood, back against a tree—twin bands of blue stone shackled around his wrists. I’d seen them before. On Rhys, to immobilize his power. Stone hewn from Hybern’s rotted land, capable of nullifying magic. And in this case...holding Lucien against that tree as Ianthe surveyed him like a snake before a meal (ACOWAR, 85).

Aside from being completely grossed out by Ianthe (she gets worse every time I reread this series), I was struck by the description of that stone. The fact that it’s blue. It reminded me of another stone in another SJM series: gorsian stone, from Crescent City.

Sure enough, I found this description when Bryce and company are in Ydra:

Hunt went on, “This metal... The Asteri have been researching a way to make the gorsian ore absorb magic, not suppress it.” Ruhn said, “Seems like ordinary titanium to me.” “Look closer,” Hunt said. “There are slight purple veins in it. That’s the gorsian stone. I’d know it anywhere.” “So what can it do?” Bryce asked. “If I’m right,” Hunt said hoarsely, “it can draw the firstlight from the ground. From all the pipes of it crisscrossing the land. These suits would draw up the firstlight and turn it into weapons... The suit would never run out of ammo, never run out of battery life. Simply find the underground power lines, and it’d be charged up and ready to kill” (HOSAB, 473).

Now, I know that these stones are blue in ACOTAR and purple in HOSAB, but apparently Rhys and Ruhn have the same eye color, which is purple in ACOTAR and blue in HOSAB, so I’m going to assume that this stone is a similar color (which might have interesting implications).

Going back to the stone itself, gorsian stone/faebane is a huge problem for these characters. The good news? In ACOTAR, they have solved the problem of faebane:

“And what has this to do with the faebane?” Helion demanded. Thesan’s lover seethed at the High Lord of Day’s tone, but one glance from Thesan had the male relaxing. Nuan turned, her dark hair slipping over a shoulder as she studied Helion. And did not seem impressed. “Because I have found a solution for it.” Thesan waved a hand. “We heard rumors of faebane being used in this war... We thought to look into the issue before it became a deadly weakness for all of us.” He nodded at Nuan. “Beyond her unparalleled tinkering, she is a skilled alchemist.” Nuan crossed her arms, the sun glinting off her metal hand. “Thanks to the samples attained after the attack in Velaris, I was able to create an...antidote, of sorts.” (ACOWAR, 431-432)

Prythian has already found an antidote to the effects of faebane/gorsian stone. It’s a powder that they can ingest in food or drink and Thesan, Nuan, and the Dawn Court of Geniuses have already figured out how to mass produce it. This makes their victory against Hybern possible, removing one of their most powerful weapons.

I have to believe that this antidote could also be effective in Crescent City, and now that Bryce is in Prythian, she might be able to reverse the tide of her own war by coming back with the antidote.

Later in the scene, Nuan goes on to say that: “The Mother has provided us with everything we need on this earth. So it has been a matter of finding what, exactly, she gave us in Prythian to combat a material from Hybern capable of wiping out our powers” (433).

Given the significance of Prythian to the Asteri and the Fae of Midgard, I think it’s interesting that the material for this antidote is specifically from Prythian. 

We do know that SJM didn’t start planning the crossover until a year after ACOWAR’s release, but even so, I’m realizing that there are more of these significant objects and overlapping plots than I originally thought. Plus, I think this kind of save would be really satisfying to the members of the Court of Dreams—though I’ve got to be honest, I think that somewhere in the Dawn Court, Nuan is probably on to bigger and better things already.

But I definitely wouldn’t mind if she made an appearance in CC3, especially if everyone’s favorite tinkerer and alchemist had a grand reveal up her sleeve once again.

[sugaxjpg]

infamous; m

⤷  You would rather die than to have someone figure out about your sexual escapades with Local Fuckboy, Kim Taehyung. It was an ego thing. 

✓ Couple: Taehyung x Reader | Fuckboy!AU & SecretRelationship!AU

✓ Filed under: smut 

✓ Look out for: bathroom sex, breast play, oral (male receiving) + deepthroat, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex (use condoms or i’ll kill u!!!), mirrors,switch!tae and switch!reader, taehyung being lowkey a prick but we’re all in for it 

✓ Words: 12,508

Author’s Note: Of course my year-long hiatus would end with a smut. What else can I say? I can hear the clown music from here. 

“Like, can you actually believe that? He ghosted me for three weeks, then he had the nerve to ask for a tit pic.” She sighed, taking a slip from her neon green drink. You didn’t know how Hyejin could ingest something that resembled toxic waste and make it seem like it actually brought her some sort of comfort. “You know what? I’m done with men. All of them. We really are living in the medieval ti— Are you even listening to me?” 

You blinked twice, taken off guard by the clicking of her fingers in front of your eyes. Truth was, you were only half present, the other half of you scrutinizing the living room, trying to find a certain someone amongst the agglomeration of bodies. 

“Yeah, sure, sorry,” you apologized, leaning your side against the wall. Behind Hyejin, two guys started yelling about something related to Harry Potter and you couldn’t care less. “I was somewhere else for a second, but I’m here now. You were saying that he ghosted you?”

“Yeah, like an absolute idiot.” She rolled her eyes, gesticulating aggressively. You nervously watched the movements of the radioactive cup, worried that it would splash all over your clothes. You really should’ve thought twice before combining a white blouse with your black skirt — that was a catastrophe waiting to happen. “I’m never talking to him again. Or any man.”

“Hm,” you hummed, crossing your arms. You didn’t know who she was trying to convince, that must’ve been the fifth time you heard your friend giving you that speech (during that semester alone). “Who’s that again? Hoseok?” 

“The one and only,” she agreed, glimpsing at her side as if someone could even hear you two amongst the loud reverberation of the music. “Really, I don’t know how those guys haven’t been thrown out of the campus yet. They’re a hazard, all seven of them. A threat to public health.”

You shrugged. “From what I’ve heard, they pay their tuition and do well in class. That’s as far as the college cares.” 

She groaned. “I guess.” Another slip. A pause. Another one. Yep, you were designated driver for the night. “Could be worse, though, I could be one of the poor chicks that Taehyung fucks in his spare time.” 

Oh. 

You giggled, nervous. “Yeah, yeah,” you agreed, looking back at the mass of students. “Yeah, that’d be awful.” 

She hummed in concordance, taking her cup back to her lips. The two guys behind her decided to quit the arguments and moved away from the two of you, making you follow their figures as they dissipated amongst the crowd. You didn’t know how college parties managed to squeeze so many people in one small living room, but it was one of the mysteries of life, you guessed. 

“I don’t know what’s the deal with that one,” Hyejin continued. “It’s like he has a golden dick or something.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows, turning your attention back at her. “What do you mean?” 

“Doesn’t matter, he’s a complete douche.” She moved her hand as if she was scaring away an invisible fly. “Don’t even think about him. He’s the kind that uses and discards people.”

“You think so?” You asked.

“I know so,” she said. “I couldn’t even count on my fingers the amount of girls that had one night stands with Taehyung, and somehow became completely whipped by the dude, only to be told that he doesn’t ‘fuck the same person twice’. Like… What the fuck is that? Who says that?”  

You laughed, noticing the tinge of red that covered her cheeks. “You sound really drunk.” 

“So?” She asked. “I’m not bullshitting you. Taehyung is a prick and that’s gospel.” She raised her cup in a silent cheer, and took another slip. “I know you’re not involved in the fuckboy phenomena that plagues this campus, and, honestly, you’re better off that way. But trust me when I say that he isn’t worth the headache.” 

With an inattentive nod, you took another peek at the strangers in the room. “I believe you, don’t worry.” 

The worst part? You did. 

Even worse? There were two things wrong with what she had told you. 

Number one: yes, Taehyung was kind of a jerk sometimes. But he wasn’t completely soulless. He was fun to be around, actually, when he wasn’t surrounded by his smooth-brained friends, or trying to impress someone into sleeping with him. Also, you were pretty sure he told at least most of those girls that he wasn’t searching for anything serious, and a one-night stand was most likely all that they would get. 

You couldn’t speak for all of them, of course, but the ones that you knew personally, at least, had mentioned something along those lines to you. He didn’t exactly lead them on, trying to break their hearts just for the sake of it. Besides, Taheyung was already kind of infamous around campus for “using and discarding” people, as Hyejin had put, so it wasn’t precisely a surprise for anyone involved. 

Number two: Taehyung fucked the same person twice, if he felt like it. And you knew that because you’ve been fucking him on and off for the past five months or so. 

To your defense, you weren’t exactly after a “secret friends with benefits” relationship when you first met him. In fact, you didn’t expect that you would fall victim to his charms just like everyone else, melting under his tender kisses, moaning his name as he rolled his hips against you, edging your orgasm for longer than you could hold it. And you didn’t expect to like it as much as you did. 

Truth was: Kim Taehyung was everything, but he wasn’t dumb. He knew that he was attractive as hell; he knew that he had a voice so silky and deep that just saying the right words would be enough to have you in bed with him — and he knew how to use two two things very well. So, just like Eve, you followed the snake and bit the apple, and blah blah blah, eternal damnation or something like that. Big deal. 

You didn’t care much about being fuckbuddies with Taehyung, actually — he had his fun with other people in the meantime, and so did you —, but you pretty much could die at the idea that someone would find out. It was an ego thing, alright? You didn’t want people to know that you were interested in him, since you prided yourself in being a strong, independent woman, and to have people think that you were wrapped around his finger (which you absolutely wasn’t!) would not be a good look for your personal brand. 

And it got more complicated than that. The thing was that Taehyung had always been one to flaunt around his trophies. It wasn’t unheard of for him to just start talking about someone that he had fucked, maybe even giving a bit more detail than anyone else involved would appreciate. You knew that it was just a matter of time before your name dropped from his lips at the wrong time, in front of his ape-brained friends, and everyone would discover that you were added to his long lists of booty calls. 

So, when you asked to keep that first night a secret, you were surprised when he quickly accepted it. 

Against all expectations, Taehyung didn’t fall into his old pattern when it came to you. He had been the one to text you first, calling you over to his place — which he made sure to be empty — and he had been the first one to suggest that you two kept meeting up after that. Now, let’s not get this mixed up: it wasn’t an undisclosed crush, it wasn’t love. It was just Taehyung fulfilling some weird-ass kink of his. He liked to have you when he wanted it, the way he wanted it, and he liked the thrill of it all being undisclosed — to him, it felt like you two were doing something wrong, which managed to turn him on even more. 

Also, you were human, alright? There was something extremely tempting about sleeping with someone as almighty as Kim Taehyung, King of Fuckboys, especially when he kept coming back to you. It’s only nature to want to feel special every once in a while. 

Again: it was an ego thing. 

Even if your pride told you otherwise, you decided, again and again, to come back to him. Late at night in your apartment, when your roommate had already gone to sleep, and he was buried deep between your legs, licking your wetness and sucking on your clit. Or maybe in the interval between your classes, when you two managed to get the locker rooms empty, and he fucked you so hard against one of the lockers that you could swear someone would come see what was going on with all that banging against the metal. 

But no, no one ever caught you. Not Hyejin or any of your other friends. As far as you were aware, Taehyung’s group didn’t know a thing either, which made you appreciate him even more. 

See? He wasn’t a total douchebag. He had the most basic sense of loyalty. 

And, yeah, you didn’t like lying to your friends, but it was a necessary measure. You were sure they would kill you if they found out about your private escapades with the Local Fuckface McGee: half out of sheer panic for your emotional well-being, and the other half out of pure jealousy. You didn’t think much about it most of the time, since you kind of understood Taehyung’s side: you simply liked the thrill, and you weren’t actually doing anything illegal. No one really had to know.

Rupturing the bubble of your nostalgia, your friend’s voice startled you back into reality. 

“Who are you looking for?” Hyejin furrowed her eyebrows, staring you down intensely. She had been your friend for three years, and you were absolutely certain she could see through your bullshit — well, most of the time. “Do you have a dick appointment that I don’t know about?” 

You laughed, your voice coming out an octave higher than you intended it to. “What? No!” So subtle, congratulations. “I’m just searching for a friend. She owes me a bit of money and she’s been avoiding me for some time.” 

You were impressed at the ease that the lie left your tongue. At the same time, you had been doing that for five months now — keeping your distance from mentioning anything Taehyung, figuring out excuses to get away from your friends at the weirdest of times — , so you guessed that was something that came with practice. 

“You want me to beat her up?” Hyejin offered. Just a glimpse was all that you needed to know that she was dead serious. “Give me her name. I promise I just wanna talk.” 

“No, it’s fine,” you said, chuckling at her aggressive demeanor. “It’s not a lot of money, I’m not super worried. I’m just tired of being avoided.” 

She smirked, taking another slip from her cup. How didn’t the drink end yet? That cup was infinite. “You and me both, sister.” 

Your lips parted, but, before you managed to let anything out, a loud sound of men screaming in excitement overlapped the beat of the electronic song. Hyejin met your eyes with a mixture of puzzlement and interest and, in an unspoken agreement, you two decided to see what the fuss was about. 

Lucky for you, you two didn’t even have to take two steps to figure it out. Since the large opening to the living room was right besides you, all that you needed to do was to take a look through it, right at the kitchen, to see the beautiful, Animal Planet view of Hoseok drinking beer upside down. 

“Hyejin?” You called calmly, eyes still glued to the spectacle.

“Yes, love?” She answered, absent-minded. 

“You know who’s throwing this party, right?” 

She shrugged. “I might.” 

You suspired, taking a step back so you could stare at her. Behind you, people walked towards the kitchen, pumped to see if Hoseok could drink the entire thing (as if he didn’t do that in every single party he throwed). “So, there’s any other reason why you dragged me to Hoseok’s party, besides one that you needed someone to keep you company while you waited to be dicked down?” 

“Great deduction, Sherlock.” She smiled, eyes shining in enthusiasm. You looked at Hoseok, then back at Hyejin. Maybe she wouldn’t have any grounds to judge you and Taehyung after that circus performance. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.” 

“I’m not worried about that.” You crossed your arms. Seokjin, who was holding Hoseok by the ankles, pterodactyl-screeched in joy as the boy reached the end of the beer. Two more slips and he’d be good to go. “You sent him the tit pic, didn’t you?” 

Hyejin licked her lips, taking a hand up to fix her hair. “I’m only human,” she said. “Besides, I had already invested a lot on him. I even did a full body shave. I couldn’t just not do it.” 

You laughed at the idea, watching as she became more and more distracted by the man. A group had already formed around Hoseok, and you knew it was just a matter of when Hyejin would do the same. 

“What happened about being over all men?” You asked. 

“Yeah, yeah… After tonight. Right now I’m planning to get under one.” She gave you her neon green cup with a harsh movement, and you held it without thinking much about it. “I’ll see you later, Y/N. Hold my drink for me.”

“Have a great night, I guess,” you raised the sound of your voice as she began to walk away. “Text me when you get home!” 

She responded without turning back, giving you a thumbs up over her head. “You too, girlie!” 

And, just like that, she was gone. 

Disappointed but not surprised, you sighed and placed your body back against the wall. From the kitchen, a roaring applause exploded, and you knew that Hoseok had finished his Herculean task. Good for him. 

You stared down. The sharp shade of green reflected on the skin of your hands, looking like something straight out of Chernobyl. You took the cup to your nostrils and gave it an experimental sniff, your nose cringing at the appalling smell. Fighting the disgust that had built in your stomach, you quickly took it away from your face, and decided to place it on a table nearby. No wonder Hyejin was so out of it, the poor girl was suffering from radiation poisoning. 

The Chainsmorkers started to play and you asked yourself why the fuck was Satan in charge of the music. All around you, strangers fumbled to the rhythm of the song, a girl even falling to her knees at one bad turn of the ankle, then turning her gaze up at her friends and laughing maniacally. The odor that enveloped you was strong and nauseating — Axe body spray, probably — and the thumping of the sound was starting to get annoying. Since you were alone with your thoughts, there wasn’t much left besides to hyperfocus on those details, which was all but a pleasant pastime. 

You crossed your arms, bored out of your mind, and thought that it might be the wiser decision to go back to your place and just sleep the night off. Yeah, the semester was already ending, most of your tests and projects had passed, but that didn’t mean you weren’t completely exhausted at all the accumulated stress you had endured. Now that Hyejin had moved on with her plan, you didn’t have much of a part to play in that party anyways. 

A couple almost tripped on you as they giggled their way towards the stairs, probably searching for an available room. What a nice reminder. You pressed your lips together, then peaked back at the kitchen, where you only saw Seokjin, Namjoon and Jungkook leaning over a pile of red cups — Yoongi right behind them, seeming like he was about to kick the whole thing down. You didn’t know where Taehyung was, but he most likely already left with someone else. 

You turned back to your previous position, crossing your arms in frustration. Great. Your friend was after her sexting partner, and your own booty call was probably balls deep inside someone else by then. Really, there wasn’t much that you could do in there. It would be better if you just left while your dignity was still intact. 

With a sigh, you pushed your body away from the wall, fumbling with your purse. You were praying that Hyejin remembered to give you the car keys, otherwise you would be trapped in that place for god knows how lo— 

Oh there he fucking was. 

The moment that you saw Taehyung, sitting on the couch across the room from you, it was like you forgot to breathe for a moment. That little demon incarnated looked better than you had anticipated — dressed in all black, with his thighs spread across the seat, ready to be fucked right then and there. His dark hair was parted in the middle, a few stubborn strands falling over his angelic features, and his thumb distractedly circled his lower lip as his gaze navigated around the room, staring at nothing in particular. Next to him, you could see another one of his friends — Jimin, if you were not mistaken — talking about something animatedly, but the other man was paying no attention. 

His expression was one of irritation, you noticed, with his thick eyebrows moving together, jaw clenching. It was pretty erotic, if you said so yourself. You didn’t know what Jimin was telling him, but you sure hoped he wouldn’t stop anytime soon. 

When he saw you, however, Taehyung’s perceived annoyance instantly dissipated. 

With your mind racing in anticipation, you watched as his eyes met your own, then trailed down your body with desire, stopping around the level of your thighs for a bit longer than you had predicted. You knew that stare awfully well — it was the same one that Taehyung gave you when he saw you around campus, the silent provocation that told you, and only you, that he really wanted to have some alone time right now. 

A sly smirk sprouted at the corner of his lips, and he leaned back against the couch. You followed his movements as he reached towards his pocket and came back with his phone, staring at you as he did so. The phantasmagoric white light casted odd shadows over his face as he unlocked it, taking a final glance at your expectant features before he started to type something. Once he was done, he locked his phone and placed it back where it had come from. 

Inside your purse, your own phone beeped happily. 

You licked your lips, trying your best to forge indifference as you reached for your device. You swore you could still feel his eyes still burning on you, impatient and deep, watching your every move with eagerness. 

[00:23] Taehyung: so glad to see that you came bby 

[00:23] Taehyung: do me a favor and meet me in the bathroom upstairs, will ya? Second door to the right ;) 

Yep, new plans: you would stay there a bit longer. 

Hammering against your chest, your heart seemed as if it was about to jump out of your mouth by the time that you turned your attention back to the couch. Taehyung, however, had already gotten up, and you had the chance to take a last glance towards his beautiful form as he walked towards the stairs. Jimin, from the couch, appeared to be as lost as they come. 

From the kitchen, the resounding complaint of the group you had seen before ruptured your hypnotized state — Yoongi had, in fact, kicked everything down. Taken aback by the carnality that permeated your chest, you locked your phone without typing an answer and leaned back against the wall, deciding it would be best to wait a minute or two before following him upstairs. Amongst your thoughts, a part of you was still judging whether you adored or despised Kim Taehyung, and the intoxicating effect he had on you. 

Finally, you decided to take the stairs. You wondered, as you opened your way through the ocean of sweaty bodies and spilling drinks, if you weren’t trying too hard to rationalize and catastrophize something that was actually very simple. It was a story with a start, a middle part, and a satisfying ending: you two wanted to fuck each other, you did, then you moved right on. No hidden feelings, no strings attached. That was it. Couldn’t get any better than that. 

Regardless, it wasn’t everything about that, and you knew it. It was about overhearing other girls talking as you made your way upstairs, complaining about how ridiculously hot he was, or about how he didn’t call them back after he gave them the best night of their lives. It was about having that steamy, trembling secret between the two of you. It was about knowing that yeah, Taehyung was crazy hot — and you could have that whenever you wanted. It was about hearing him complain about his friends, who told him that you’d never give him a chance, and seeing the delectable pleasure in which he vangloriared himself, knowing very well that you and him had a second life to share whenever suited. 

You reached the second floor with electric currents running through your veins, anticipation building like a tidal wave inside your abdomen. You two had never done something like that so close to so many people and, yet, you adored the idea even more. 

The cold metal of the door handle met the palm of your hand and you tried it once, twice, with no effect. After looking at the corridor and making sure that Taehyung was nowhere else to be seen — besides the fact that, if he didn’t manage to get the bathroom, he would surely text you a different location — you were left to assume that he wanted to know that it was you who waited at the other side. 

With a sigh, you took your phone out of your purse. Maybe your fingers weren’t as steady as you’d like them to be, but no one needed to know about that. 

[00:27] You: plz open the door thx

Expectantly, you placed your phone back and tried to overhear some sort of sound signifying that he was moving closer to the door — but the song was so loud that you could barely understand your own thoughts. The next seconds that you stood there, just waiting for him to open the door, had been the longest ones you had endured in your life. 

Eventually, however, the door creaked open. 

You gave one last, paranoid glimpse at the strangers in the corridor, but none of them seemed to notice that Taehyung hadn’t left the bathroom by the time that you came in, locking the door behind you. 

It was like stepping into a different reality. The lights inside the bathroom were absurdly bright when compared to the dim environment that expanded outside; the obnoxious song and chatter had instantly morphed into a muted exclamation outside of the door, only the reverberation of the bass making itself present. Just like the calm before the storm, there was a moment of tranquility between the instant that you locked the door, and the one that you saw him. 

As you turned around, dwelling in his proximity, you thought about a million things at the same time — about teasing him about his location choice, or maybe about how he must’ve been going through a drought, if he had to count on his covert booty call to get laid in a party. You thought about how gorgeous he looked, about how his eyes glistened in interest as he took a quiet step towards you, his roseate tongue coming out to lick his lips. 

Regardless, before you could say anything, Taehyung’s lips were on your own, attacking your mouth in a fervorous kiss. You whimpered in surprise as he pushed you against the closed bathroom door, his hands circling your waist as he squeezed your body against his. Your purse fell on the ground with a muffled sound, but you barely even noticed it. 

Taehyung had always been an intense kisser to say the least, but that night it was something else. That night, he was kissing you as if he physically couldn’t contain himself long enough to do anything else; as if all that he could think of doing was to feel the heavenly contact of your mouth against his, your fingers pulling on the strands of his hair. As he invited his tongue inside your mouth, Taehyung groaned and lowered his hands, squeezing your ass like he was about to lose every last ounce of sanity he had left in him. 

You sighed as he moved his focus onto your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses in a way that you knew would leave a mark the next day. “Someone’s excited,” you commented, slightly breathless. Your only response was another groan, and the rolling of his hips against you, where you could feel his cock, already semi-hard, pressing against your inner thigh. “Couldn’t even bother to take me somewhere else.” 

One of his hands moved up to your hair, pulling your head sideways so he could have a better access to your neck. “I need to have you now,” his deep voice came out muffled against your skin, the reverberations of his timbre propagating directly towards your center. 

“You’re starting to get more adventurous with this.” You bit down on your lower lip and he sucked your flesh, groping your ass once again. “Parties used to be so off limits to you.” 

Taehyung chuckled against your neck, moving back towards your mouth. He started making out with you again, his breath hot and heavy against your face, and you thought you could very well pass out at the level of craving that had built inside you. “I changed my mind.” He spoke as he leaned back. 

You smirked at his attitude. “We’ll end up getting caught.” 

“Aw, baby.” He pouted, looking at you with artificial pity. Okay, he could be kind of a prick sometimes. “You’re the one who’s worried. And you came all the way up here because you wanted to. You know I’m not one to insist.”

“I can leave, then?” You raised one eyebrow, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck. 

“You can, the door is right behind you,”  Taehyung told you, quickly losing interest in that conversation. “But something tells me you won’t.” 

You didn’t even try to respond, because there was nothing to be said: both of you knew what you were doing there, and the idea of walking out was just too ridiculous to consider. 

With a suspire, you watched as Taehyung moved his lips down your chest, stopping at the fabric of your blouse. 

“What if someone hears us?’ You suddenly remembered, heartbeat quickening at the thought. 

“What is it, baby?” He asked as his fingers worked on your buttons, exposing more of your torso. That slow pace of his was going to kill you one of those days. “You’re worried that people are going to find out about this? About us?” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but his chuckle — so deep and melodious — caught you off guard. 

“How scandalous, right? Y/N is not the pure little thing she makes herself to be,” Taehyung continued, finally opening your blouse and fully exposing your bra to him. He licked his lips at the sight, humming with delight. “Red lace? You really want to tease me.” 

You swallowed dry as the man took the fabric off your shoulders and gently placed besides the sink, above a towel. He could be so thoughtful sometimes. “Taehyung, I—“ 

“You’re such a little brat sometimes, do you know that?” he interrupted, eyes following his own movements as his hands circled your body, moving to unclasp your bra. And of course he got it right on the first try. “You came all the way up here just to get fucked, and now you’re worried that people are going to know about it.” 

You stared him down, a smirk already creeping up at the corner of your lips. “How does that make me a brat?” 

He chuckled. “Look at you, trying to play the naive card on me.” Another agile movement of his fingers and your bra was joining your blouse besides the sink. Taehyung sighed tentatively at the image of your exposed breasts, trying to imprint that sight into the back of his mind. “Pretending as if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. You can drop the act now, baby.”

“I don’t—“

His mouth attacking your breasts was all that you needed to shut up and let him do what he went there to do. Overwhelmed by the sensation, you let out a gasp as his hand squeezed you, playing with your soft boobs as he moaned against your skin. 

“I love it so much.” Taehyung hummed as he sucked on your breasts, moaning at the marvelous sensation of your warm skin against his tongue. You had almost forgotten how much Taehyung ached to play with your boobs; how often he would squeeze them, suck them; find excuses to feel them against his body. Not that you were complaining. “And I love that it’s all for me.” He breathed out before attacking your other nipple. “All of this… all mine.” 

You whimpered at the contact, arching your back in a failed attempt to get closer to him. As much as you knew he was most likely just saying whatever he thought would turn you on — besides, you two had already agreed on a pretty open “relationship” —, Taehyung’s words expanded inside your chest, building a heat that seemed to suffocate you. Even if you knew it was bullshit, you liked to be called his. Ego strokes and all of that. 

“Taehyung…” There was only a thin wooden door separating you two from the outside world, and you couldn’t care less if they heard you calling out his name. That boy really did wonders to your anxiety. 

But he also liked to tease you. 

He moved away from your breasts and you almost — almost — cried out in frustration. 

Taehyung traced his kisses back to your neck, then to your jawline. You were going crazy with all that back and forth. “Baby, I’m not gonna lie, I understand where you’re coming from,” he said. “I like to keep this as a secret too. It’s so hot.” 

You almost forgot how to inhale when he aligned his face with yours, placing a pec on your swollen lips. “Yeah?” You asked, sounding as if you were in a daydream. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, breathless. Even if Taehyung tried his best to look as he was under absolute control, you knew that he couldn’t keep that front for too long. He was clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh was all of the proof that you needed. “It’s so great to know that I have one of the sexiest girls on campus just for myself…” His hand trailed up your thighs, adventuring in the lands beneath your skirt. “And no one knows.”

You bit your lower lip, anticipating the contact of his hand against your core. “I thought you were the kind to kiss and tell.”

“Most times,” he mumbled, gifting you with another small pec. “Not with you. I like it like this. Having you when I want, how I want, and only you and I know.”

But you weren’t satisfied with his answer.  His hand did a turn and decided to make a quick stop on your ass, the feeling of skin against skin making your lower body tingle. “What’s so enticing about it?” You asked. 

He smiled. “Ah… many things.”

Your stare didn’t falter. “I’d like an exemple.” 

Instead of answering you straight away, Taehyung decided to take his sweet time. He leaned his head to the side and kissed you feverishly, growing satisfied at the small whimpers and suspires that echoed in between your mouths. His hands were all over you: on your ass, your waist, down your thighs and up your hips, where his eyes could not see. You only had your skirt and your panties on, and it was so frustrating to still feel him fully dressed against you. 

At last, Taehyung pulled away, placing his forehead against yours. As he spoke, you felt the tingle of his hands as they moved towards the hem of your panties. “I like seeing you walk around campus, knowing that you’re so sore from the night before,” he spoke slowly, his voice in a low vibration against your mouth. “And I know you don’t tell any of your friends about it. About how I fucked you so good that you almost cried, and that it’s the next day, and you can barely walk.” 

You hummed, closing your eyes. “What else?”

Much to your dismay, his hands left your underwear again, coming out to pull you closer. “When you send me those audios late at night,” he was breathing out hard then, drowning in those lewd memories. “Playing with your little cunt, crying out my name… shit,” he cursed. “How am I supposed to say no to that? So there I go, out the door, telling my friends that I’m gonna see this crazy hot chick and I’m gonna fuck her brains out…” he hesitated. “And I just get this... rush because they don’t know it’s you.” 

“And how do you know that I like any of it?” You teased. 

Taehyung chuckled at your question. Both of you knew that it was plastered all over your face, but he could keep up that little teasing if you wanted to. “Two reasons,” he said. “First: you do the same to me, or don’t you?” 

“I don’t recall,” you responded, forging innocence. Okay, maybe you did play the naive part a bit much. 

“Oh no? What a terrible memory you have.” He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his words hitting your skin in heated, libidinous waves. Taehyung was so close that you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to, his torso squeezed so tight against yours that you wondered how you even managed to breathe in that position. “It was just last week, baby. You called me to your flat after your roommate had left.” One of his hands went back to play with the hem of your underwear, fingertips feeling like lit matches against your skin. “You opened so wide for me, you were so wet already. You got so horny with just the thought of having my cock, isn’t that right?” 

Much to your surprise, your voice came out a lot more steady than you had expected. “Don’t flatter yourself, you don’t know that.”

Taehyung chuckled, placing his warm, swollen lips against the skin of your neck. “I don’t,” he agreed, digits pressing against your clothed clit. You knew he could feel how soaked your panties had become, so there was no reason to keep that up. Regardless, you kind of liked it. “But I do remember how much you wanted me that night, whining and begging me to fill you up with my cock. How many times did I fuck you that night, uh? Four? Five times? And you just had to keep quiet, because your neighbors might have been listening. That was so cute.” 

You sighed, your insides in knots over the tension you were sustaining. You hated him sometimes. Hated how good he was. “I wasn’t counting.” 

“I know, baby.” He swiftly pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, his long fingers digging into your wet heat. Memories of them fucking you open flooded your mind, sending a shockwave directly through your torso and towards your pussy. “And this right here, baby, is the second reason. Look at this: you’re soaked.” His digits moved, teasing your entrance, and the sound was so lewd that you had to suppress a moan. “You’re always so ready to take me. I love that. You’re so good to me.” 

God, you were about to lose it.

With the force of then thousand warriors, you held back another less-than-graceful sound from escaping your lips. You knew how much Taehyung liked you being loud (something to do with the adrenaline of getting caught, nothing new to see here), and so you had to keep your cool. It wouldn’t be so fun if you just gave him everything he wanted. 

“So quiet all of a sudden.” His nose delicately trailed up your neck, his mouth meeting the angle of your jaw in hot, open kisses. In an attempt to ground yourself, your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging through his shirt. You could still feel Taehyung’s fingers playing with your wet folds, seeing how much you could take before you were begging for them to enter you. You hated him. Or not. You didn’t know. “I know I leave you speechless, baby, but I wanna hear you too.” 

Strong and steady, his other hand met the curvature of your waist, pressing your body against his. In a mindless reflex, you perked up your ass at the contact, making his fingers slip closer to your soaking entrance. 

“Nothing? Baby, you’re especially irresistible tonight.” Taehyung’s eyes were somewhat dazed, unfocused and hooded. He appeared as if he was two seconds away from fucking you raw against the wall, and you seriously wouldn’t mind. “You know why I called you here?” 

“Because you want to fuck me,” you responded without missing a beat. 

“I do, of course.” He placed his forehead against yours, and you whimpered weakly as two of his fingers finally (finally!) made their way into your heat, stretching you nicely. “That’s it, baby, don’t hold back.”

Instead of answering, another slow, delicious moan dripped like honey from your tongue. Taehyung grunted, satisfied at your responses, and quickened the pace inside your walls; your eyelashes fluttering shut at the ambrosial sensation. He had told you once about how much he liked that part: knowing that you were getting ready for his cock, but already so eager to cum around his fingers. 

Did he tell you that while he fingered you inside his car? Yes. Did anyone else have to know that? Absolutely not. 

“You know what I was doing before I came here?” His question caught you off guard. 

You didn’t even know if you were able to answer for a second, but, happily, the word didn’t have any issue coming out. “What?”

He took a deep, sharp breath, curling his fingers inside you. You pressed your back against the door at the shock of his digits brushing against your sensitive spot, one of your hands flying to your mouth in a way to suppress a particularly loud exclamation of pleasure. “I was listening to Jimin complain about how much he wanted to have you in his bed tonight,” his voice came out in a harsh tone, full of spikes and pointed corners. “Over and over, like a broken record. He can be so explicit when he wants to. It’s unbearable.”

You bit your bottom lip, rolling your hip against his hand. Your body was starting to tingle, the muscles in your legs turning into jello, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer. As you spoke, you noticed touches of bliss ornamenting your syllables, your words coming out with a bit more difficulty than before. “Oh, so you’re jealous?” You teased.

“Me? Never,” he was quick to respond, groaning at the feeling of your walls clenching around him; his cock throbbing painfully against the fabric of his pants. “I’m just… trying to change your mind.”

“My mind?” You echoed, only half-aware of that conversation. Pleasure was starting to build in alarming rates, and you were starting to lose your trail of thought. “I haven't even decided anything yet.” 

“After I’m done, baby, you won’t need to,”  his voice came out in a profound whisper, sounding like a sweet melody against your ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard and slow, so deep,” he stressed that word, making your pussy throb around his fingers at the idea, “that you won’t want to have anyone else for the night. Only me.” 

It sounded a bit like possessiveness or jealousy to you, but, honestly, you chose not to pick that conversation for the night. It was probably some kind of acting on his part too. Besides, you weren’t interested in any of Taehyung’s friends, so he didn’t need to worry about Jimin, or anyone else, making a move — especially when he was fingering you so well that you were about to forget your name. 

“And the best part, baby, is that no one will even know it,” he continued, separating his fingers slightly so he could scissor you. Against your best judgement, your knees were getting weaker by the minute, the knot in your abdomen about to untie. “Just you and I. Just the two of us will know how much you begged to be filled up with my cock, how wet you already are just for my fingers.” 

“Taehyung,” you called out, hands tangling themselves in the roots of his silky hair. You moaned out his name again, your voice coming out in such a promiscuous tone that he felt as if he was about to cum on the spot. God, Taehyung loved hearing the effect he had on you. “I’m close.” 

“I know, baby,” he whispered against your ear. His voice was so hoarse, so permeated by desire, that you knew that he was holding back too. His cock was hard and throbbing against your legs, and every minor movement of your thigh against his erection was enough for him to lose his breath for a moment. “But I don’t want you to cum, not yet.” 

Again, he pulled away. 

Taehyung wanted you to complain, to whine about the lack of contact or the warmness of his body — and so, just because you knew that it was his plan, you didn’t do any of that. 

You didn’t say a word as he moved his fingers away from your wetness, his other hand coming down to grope your ass. You didn’t flinch when he looked you deep inside your eyes, guiding his fingers between your lips, watching as your mouth obediently took them in, humming as you sucked your own wetness, never breaking eye contact. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, drowing in the sensation of your warm tongue licking his fingers. You didn’t think that Taehyung was fully aware of the way that his hips had rolled against yours, fighting for relief. “You’re so fucking hot, it’s unreal.”  

And you knew that he said that praise to every poor soul that crossed his path, but it still managed to have some effect on you. Again: you were human, and Taehyung knew what the fuck he was doing. 

But so did you.

Before he could try and do anything else, you pressed your palms against his chest, gently pushing him a few steps away from you. Taehyung followed your lead, watching as you got down to your knees, facing his erection. 

In measured, lackadaisical movements, you pressed your lips against his covered cock, feeling its handness against your mouth. Air got stuck in Taehyung’s throat as he watched you, like a hungry lion, as you undid his pants and pulled them down, gifting you with the sight of his white boxers. 

Just because you knew he liked it, you moaned at the glorious sight of his big, heavy cock already so hard and ready for you; fingers caressing the tip of his member, where a small stain of precum already started to form. Taehyung was so on the edge that he hissed at the contact, one of his hands meeting the back of your head in a mindless impulse. “Don’t tease,” he warned. 

“Oh, so you can and I can’t?” You leaned your head to the side, and planted a kiss on his cock before looking up at him. May the heavens have mercy on you, because you never saw Taehyung so pissed off and turned on at the same time. “I think I could even make you cum like this if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.” 

“Don’t you dare,” he struggled to get out.

“What? You liked when I did that the other times,” you cooled. “Sometimes you didn’t even need my mouth.” 

He closed his eyes, trying to fight the moan that started to climb up his throat. “Stop.” 

“What? You don’t remember?” You asked, placing another kiss on his member, closer to tip that time. “When I let you grind against my ass in the library? You came just by humping me, pants and all.” 

With a cute smile, your hand squeezed his dick, before moving up and down, following its thick outline. Taehyung was dumbfounded, left to watch as your delicate hands worked on his erection with unbearable patience, his eyes glued to every action that you made — the fluttering of your eyelashes, the innocent gazes that you threw his way every time your lips met the cotton of his underwear. If you kept it up for long enough, he was sure he would cum all over his boxers. 

Still, the gods above had heard his prayers, and Taehyung watched as you pulled his underwear down. Without a second of hesitation, you moaned as your tongue licked him all the way from the base to the top, lips enveloping his crown as you sucked on it ever so slightly. 

“Oh, fuck,” he cried out, fingers pulling on your hairstrands. “That’s good, fuck.” 

You hummed, content at his reaction, and pushed him deeper inside your warm mouth, one of your hands holding at the base of his cock. Beneath your other palm, you could feel as the muscles of his thigh tensed up at the sensation. His lips open slighlty, allowing for a long, erotic moan to echo inside the bathroom as you started to set a pace, sucking him slowly, just like you knew it drove him mad. 

“You’re so fucking good at this, baby,” Taehyung groaned, unable to keep his eyes open for much longer. The vision of him was ethereal: head thrown back, mouth slightly agape, eyebrows forming an expression of sheer pleasure and concentration. You cursed your own eyes as they started to water, preventing you from watching him a bit further. “Oh, that’s right, just like that.. you suck me so well, fuck.” 

The pulsating, unsatisfied sensation of need between your thighs only grew, your walls clenching around nothing and your heart beating fast against your chest. You could taste as his precum leaked inside your mouth, his fragmented breaths and whines showing you that Taehyung also wasn’t made of steel. As much as you’d like to see him cum soon, you also needed to be taken care of.

After a particularly hard suck, you pulled your mouth away from his member, and looked up at him. The lack of contact was all that Taehyung needed to open his eyes and stare down at you, surprised at the interruption of his pleasure.

“Taehyung,” you tried your best to make your voice sound as pure and sensual as you could. His eyes widened slightly at the sound — no matter how hard he tried to make it seem like he was annoyed by that saint act of yours, you knew that it drove him insane. “I want you to fuck me now, please.” 

You watched as his face presented a thousand emotions at the same time, and then eventually settled on the cool, controlled dominance you adored so much. Another surge of pleasure ran down your body, much stronger this time, and the feeling of your soaked panties against your pussy was making you go insane with anticipation. 

“I love it when you ask politely.” He placed his hand on your chin, trailing your lower lip with his thumb. “Get up, baby,” he commanded. 

Without an ounce of hesitation, you did as you were told, letting your body be guided by his large hands. 

Taehyung turned you around and leaned you against the sink, positioning himself behind you. “Back to me, ass up,” he said, “Keep it like this, alright?” 

You nodded, unsure that you could say anything else. 

“Good girl.” Taehyung once again held your chin up, making you stare at your own reflection in the mirror for a second before your eyes traveled towards his. God, he was an absolute mess. In the best of ways. “I want you to look at it.”

Any second now, your legs would give out and you would crash down on the floor — or, at least, that’s the sensation you had. It was unbearable to watch as Taehyung took his time removing his shirt; then your skirt and your panties, dripping them down your legs one by one, his mouth so deliciously close to your heat that you felt like you could faint. 

“So pretty,” he mumbled to himself, watching your pussy with desire. “So fucking wet.” 

“I want to feel you, please.” You arched your back, throwing your hips closer to his. 

“Like this, baby?” With a glorious roll of his hips against yours, you felt as his cock moved in between your folds, his head only touching your clit slightly. The sensation alone was enough to make you perk your ass up at him, a motion that wasn’t left unnoticed by his part. 

He smirked at your reaction. “Such a pure little thing, aren’t you?” Taehyung’s hands palmed your ass, moving like snakes towards your waist, where they held you in place. Another roll of his hips and the contact of his dick against your clit made your knees buckle. “You’re so polite, just asking for my cock again and again… You don’t even notice how wet you get thinking about it, grinding against it. Isn’t that so?” 

You had no option but to agree, lowering your head to look at the marble sink beneath you. “Yeah,” your voice came out in a pathetic whine, but you couldn’t even care about it. You just wanted to feel him inside you. “It’s all for you, Taehyung.” 

“Good girl,” he praised, taking one of his hands to guide his cock towards your opening. Expectant, you held your breath, but he didn’t slide in just yet. “Just tell me what you want, come on.” Again, he leaned in and pushed your chin up. “And look at me while you say that.”  

Obediently, you did. Taehyung was a greek god then. Under the pale yellow lights of the bathroom, his lips were swollen and red, the lower one being bit lightly by his teeth; his entire expression permeated by lust as he dove into the sensation of his cock teasing your entrance. He stared at you like you were good enough to eat, his eyes coruscating with so much hunger that you couldn’t even think about anything else but him. No wonder you kept coming back. His entire presence was engulfing every fiber of your being. 

Maybe Kim Taehyung did have a golden dick, after all. 

“I want you to fuck me, Taehyung,” a sentence had never been so clear, so sincere. From the corner of your eye, you could see your own face, desperate and pleading, as you fumbled closer to his member. “Please. I need to feel you inside me.” 

With a hum, he kissed the nape of your neck. “Whatever my girl wants.” 

And, before you could even think about his words, your thoughts were broken as you moaned out his name, feeling as his big cock stretched you, hitting all the right spots. You had missed that sensation so much, of being so full of him, so hypnotized by the movements of his body against yours, that you didn’t even compute the shuddering breath that departed from his mouth, nor the curse that he had let out once he felt the warmness of your walls around his aching member. 

He thought he could lose his last ounces of sanity as he pulled out just enough to leave only his tip in, before throwing his lips against yours and filling you back up. Soon enough, Taehyung was setting a rhythm, unable to control his comments as he kept thrusting inside you. 

“So tight, baby,” he spoke in a whisper, almost as if you weren’t supposed to hear it. His face in the mirror was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen: Taehyung was so lost in pleasure that his features had morphed into an expression of sheer bliss; all of his concentration directed at the movements of your body, the way that your walls held him with so much desire. “You take my cock so well… Shit, you’re making me go crazy.” 

Taehyung’s breath quivered and he leaned his body towards you, fighting for balance. He had one of his hands on your waist, and the other was holding down to the sink, leveling his figure as he started to thrust into you in that different angle — just as slow, hard and deep as he had promised. 

You rolled your head back once he hit the right spot inside you, your moans going up an octave. “Fuck, right there, Taehyung,” you whined, barely aware of the volume of your voice. To hell with it, the music was too loud anyways. “There, right there, don’t stop.” 

“Here?” He groaned, thrusting in the exact place that made you cry out. “That’s it, baby, let it out.” 

And you wanted to prolong that moment for as long as you could, but, truth was, he had played around with you enough that you knew you wouldn’t last much. Even sucking his cock, feeling as he mumbled and trembled under your touches, had been enough to keep you turned on. Again: you were only human, and the paradisiacal feeling of Taehyung’s cock filling you up to the brim, hitting your sweet spot with forceful thrusts, was a bit more than you could endure. 

“Taehyung, I think I’m close,” you told him, feeling as your arms grew weaker beneath you. It was just a matter of time before your legs started shaking too. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Shh, that’s fine, baby.” He moved your hair away from your back, placing a trail of sloppy kisses on your shoulders. “Come on, cum around my cock. I want to feel you.” 

“It’s so big, Taehyung,” you moaned, closing your eyes in defeat. You could tell that your pleasure was already building up too much, too fast. You couldn’t help it: he was stretching you so fantastically that every part of you was on overdrive, the pent-up tension of the entire night culminating in one long, edging orgasm. 

“It’s all yours, baby, all of it,” he told you, guiding you towards your high. God, his voice was so hoarse, so sweet. “Cum for me, okay? And don’t hold back, I want to hear you.” 

Just like that, you came with a loud moan and the calling of his name in a repetitive prayer, walls clenching around him in a way that made him lose his grip on reality. You whimpered at the pleasure, that now was gradually subsiding, and lowered your body against the marble, feeling how cold it was, how different it was from the rest of the bathroom. 

“That’s it, baby, yeah… That was so fucking hot.” Taehyung groaned behind you, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He was moving you so hard that you could feel your hip bones being pressed against the corners of the marble surface, the dirty sound of wetness and skin against skin filling the ambient. “Look at all this… so wet and tight, even after coming so hard.” 

From the way that Taehyung’s movements started to get sloppier, you could tell that he was losing himself in his own sense of pleasure, getting closer to his own climax. “All of this… all for me,” he moaned out, eyes glued to the motion of his cock coming in and out of your dripping center. “You’re so good, baby. Fuck, I could have you like this forever.”

The pounding of his hips against your ass was getting so intense that you could feel tears accumulating at the corners of your eyes, fingers trembling under the weight of overstimulation. Taehyung had fucked you hard before, but you just couldn’t get used to how fantastic it felt. 

“I’m close,” he cried out behind you, his breath coming out in broken, tremulous expirations. “Can I cum on your mouth, baby? I want to see you swallow everything.” 

You nodded, mouth salivating at the thought. 

“Fuck.” He groaned. “That’s my girl.” 

Taehyung pulled away from you and you moved fast, getting back down on your knees as he guided his cock, so red and swollen, against your lips. 

You opened your mouth to accommodate him, taking his member slowly at first, thinking it would be better to adjust to its size. After that part was done — and Taehyung had already turned into a quivering mess above you — you proceeded to move your head, sucking his cock as hard as you could muster. 

“That’s right, suck it,” he moaned, buckling his hips forward. The tip of his cock touched the back of your throat and you gagged, presenting Taehyung with one of the most gorgeous views he had seen all night. “Fuck, yeah— Take everything, baby, come on.” 

You did, of course. You continued to suck Taehyung with a moderate pace — not so slow that it would kill him, but not so fast that it would kill you — and watched as he started to become undone under your touches. First, it were his trembling thighs, then the weakening of his grip on his head. You looked up at him with blurry eyes and watched as his lips fell open, moaning obscenities, and his eyes closed with intense concentration. It was just a matter of time before he—

“F-fuck!” 

Taehyung spilled in your mouth and you struggled to swallow everything, just like he had told you to, whining at the feeling of his cock throbbing and twitching in between your lips. The discomfort between your thighs had resumed, pulsating inside your core in a silent need, but you didn’t think you’d have the stamina to deal with it right then and there. 

You pulled your head away from his cock when he started wincing with sensitivity. With doll-like eyes, you met his hooded ones, glad to see the satisfaction and appreciation that was plastered all across his face. He always looked so good after sex, you realized, and you felt extremely satisfied to know that his fucked-out, blissful expression was all because of you. 

In a gentle motion, Taehyung placed his thumb on your check, cleaning a bit of his cum, and brought it over to your lips. “You missed this bit,” he said. 

You sucked his thumb clean without thinking twice, suddenly aware of how uncomfortable your knees felt. Above you, Taehyung smirked at the sensation of your mouth around his thumb, his other hand coming to place small caresses on your hair. 

After he removed his thumb from your mouth, you got back to your feet. It crossed your mind that your legs might give out eventually, but, thankfully, they seemed a bit more firm than you had anticipated. “Better?” You asked. 

“Perfect.” Taehyung kissed you, sighing against your mouth. He pulled away gradually, his body still moving a bit slow after everything you two had done. “You always are.” 

“Aw, how nice of you.” You smiled at his compliment, walking towards your pile of clothes. The bathroom was starting to get cold, and the afterglow of sex couldn’t keep you warm for much longer. “Always with the compliments.” 

He hummed in agreement, watching your naked body; your fingers holding that red bra he adored so much. “Any chance I could see you again this week?” 

An incredulous laugh ruptured your lips as you clasped your bra behind your back. “We just had sex, and you’re already thinking about the next time?” 

He shrugged. “I like to have a schedule.” 

“I’ll think about it.” Your skirt moved up your legs, all the way up to your waistline. From the corner of your eyes, you could see as Taehyung fumbled with his own pants, which he now cursed for being inside out. Seems like he was only thoughtful when it came to your wardrobe. “It’s not like we usually know when this stuff is going to happen.” 

There was a slight tremble in your fingertips as you reached for your blouse and placed it back on your body, but you decided to ignore it.

“I guess,” he mumbled. 

You stared at your own reflection in the mirror as you started to close your buttons, somewhat amazed by the fact that it didn’t appear like you just had had sex. Yeah, your hair was all over the place, and maybe your neck was a bit too red in a few spots, but nothing that a bit of time wouldn’t fix. Could’ve been worse. 

“Can you pass me some toilet paper?” You asked him, eager to clean the mess between your legs. There was no way in hell you were going to put your panties back on, even if the thought of going commando wasn’t exactly the most welcoming either. 

Taehyung was sitting on the toilet lid, putting his pants back, and simply nodded in agreement before doing so. “I’d like to know, though,” he insisted.

You smiled, taking a cheeky glance at him. “Since when you’re so needy?” 

He groaned. “I’m not needy, shut up” 

“Well… You have my number.” You responded, throwing the paper in the trash after you had finished cleaning yourself up. “Call me whenever you’re feeling like it, and I’ll see what I can do.” 

He pouted, clearly frustrated at the answer. “And what if you can’t make it?”

“Then you have two good hands to help you,” you answered simply, fingers working on adjusting your hair. The sound of his zipper closing echoed inside the cubicle. “Besides.. you can have this as a memory, if you’d like.” 

You threw your red panties at him, watching as his face grew interested at the piece of wet cloth in his hands. Taehyung sighed, tugging his shirt back inside his pants. “You’re killing me,” he complained. 

“Good.” You smiled, turning back at him. “How do I look? Presentable?” 

He examined you for an instant, taking in the details of your form. “It doesn’t look like you just got fucked, if that's what you’re asking.” 

“Great!” You swirled around, giving the mirror a last peek. You were getting suspiciously good at making it seem like you two never happened. “Have a nice night, Taehyung. Maybe wait like five minutes before leaving the bathroom. And don’t get too excited with the panties.” 

Taehyung got up and walked closer to you, your underwear safely guarded in his hands. You were positive he would have fun with it later. “You’re going home already?” He asked. 

“Yeah, you did a good job at making me tired.” The clicking of the lock was a pleasant reminder that no one tried to open the door during that time, so maybe your sexual shenanigans had been overlooked once again. “So don’t worry. I’m in need of a good night of sleep. I’m not spending any time with your horny friends.” 

Taehyung chuckled, leaning closer to you. “I was kind of exaggerating about that Jimin part for dramatic effect, but alright.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Good night. Thanks for the panties.” 

You laughed. “You’re welcome.” 

Just like that, you were out the door, and the moments you had shared in that bathroom with Taehyung had been placed inside a capsule. No one noticed you as you walked through the corridor, past the few strangers still around, and down the stairs, where the party had clearly lost its initial olympian proportions. 

Cups and pieces of paper were thrown all over the floor, and you watched as people stumbled around, trying to find some sort of balance against the walls. No matter how many Hoseok Parties you went to, you were always amazed at the way that they were quick to be set ablaze, but equally quick to burn off. It was like premature ejaculation, in the weirdest and saddest of ways. 

Still, you weren’t expecting to see a recognizable face at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Hyejin,” you called, surprised to see your friend around. “Thought you would’ve gone to bed with Hoseok by now.” 

Seeming as dumbfounded as you, she followed your movements as you walked down the terminal steps, finally reaching the first floor of the house. There was a weird shadow of discomfort casted over her features, and you thought it had something to do with Hoseok. “Uh… Not really,”  she told you. “I just want to go home, actually.”

“You and I both.” You placed one of your arms around her shoulder, guiding her towards the front door. “Let’s go, this place has already peaked, anyway.”

She suspired, her lips pouting. “Thanks.” 

A few minutes of silence expanded between the two of you as you walked out of the house and into the front lawn, where a sea of trash had already taken over a few chunks of grass. You didn’t know how or why, but someone had brought an inflatable pool, and there was only one solitary purple dildo swimming in it. What a sad sea creature, you thought, before your attention was pulled back to your friend.

Hyejin switched uncomfortably in your arms, hugging her own body in a way to shield herself from the gelid breeze of the night. You looked at her with care, watching as her face contorted at sight of the street lights, magnifying the odd expression that had taken over her. “Tell me what happened between you two,” you asked tenderly. “You don’t seem too happy about it.” 

Your friend hesitated and, suddenly, you felt bad for pressuring her. At the same time, you were worried that something bad had happened. “Yeah…  so… apparently he thought he was texting a different person,” she told you. You could tell that she was having a hard time speaking. “It was kind of a mess, actually. He said that in front of everyone. I’m glad you weren’t there to see it.” 

Suddenly, you recognized that expression as being pure, unshakable humiliation. That must’ve been an ugly moment, really, since Hyejin wasn’t one to break easily. The booze probably didn’t help her emotional state either. 

 “Hyejin, I’m so sorry. He really is a fucking idiot for treating you like that.” You squeezed her body against yours in an awkward sideways hug. She eased into your touch, shoulders falling under the weight of your comforting words. “That really sucks. We can find a way to kill him, if you want. I’d hide the body and never talk about it again.”  

Even if she chuckled at the idea, you could tell she wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “Yeah… I don’t think I want to talk about that right now.” She cleared her throat, hugging her own body with a bit more force. The car was just a few steps away from the two of you, and you were beyond glad that you had managed to find a spot so close to the house. “Anyways… there’s something else. I went to find you earlier, when it all went down, so we could go home.”

You pressed your lips together, guilt hitting you like a punch in the gut. “Sorry, I was upstairs.” 

“Yeah, I realized that once I didn’t find you,” she continued. Hyejin’s voice was weak, her syllables slightly disconnected. She often spoke like that once intoxication and exhaustion joined in a horrible after-party dance. “I went up and searched around for you, but I… uh…” 

The two of you finally reached the vehicle, and you removed your arm from around her so you could move towards the driver’s side. You frowned at her hesitation, watching her over the roof of the car. “What is it?” You asked. 

“I needed to use the bathroom…” she trailed off. Her tone was almost inaudible. “And I…” 

You opened your purse, squinting your eyes to try and find the car key amidst the dimly-lit street. “And?” 

“The door was locked.” She gawked at you, eyes suddenly growing serious. You didn’t like drunk-Hyejin, with her unstable moods and abrupt expression switches. It was watching a horror movie sometimes. “Because you were in there.” 

Oh, you seriously didn’t want to have that conversation at that moment. 

Finally, you found the key and unlocked the car. The sound was like a gunshot through the night, your pulse starting to pick up the pace. You knew where she was heading towards now, but it’s not like she could be sure that it was you in there. You’d deny until the end of time. 

“What makes you think that it was me?” You questioned, opening the door. 

This time, she didn’t hesitate to respond. “I heard you.”

Oh. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck— 

Keep your cool. It’s okay. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” 

“You don’t?” She started to raise her voice, clearly pissed off. You two were arriving at stage two of drunk Hyejin: past the sad introspection, and into banshee level. “I had to pee on the disgusting bathroom downstairs because you were fucking someone in there! I had to wait twenty minutes in line! And you lied to me! You told me you didn’t have a dick appointment!” 

“Shhh! Stop yelling!” You asked, exasperated. The night was too cold and the streets were too empty. You just wanted to go home before someone heard you. All that it needed was one half-assed comment from Taehyung about him going to the upstairs bathroom, plus someone interested enough to connect the dots, and your little secret would be up. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, okay? Now, please, get in the car, you’re super drunk.”

Before Hyejin could protest, which you were sure she would, you sank down on your seat, running away from her judgemental semblance. The thought of just driving off in sheer panic crossed your mind, but you quickly ignored it. You couldn’t leave her alone in that place, especially in the inebriated state she was in. No matter how much you really, really wanted to. 

Your friend followed your lead and sat down on the passenger seat, watching as you closed your door and checked the mirrors, avoiding her gaze with all your might. She sighed. “I don’t understand… Why didn’t you go somewhere else for that? People need to pee, you know? Or, I don’t know, puke… or maybe even—“ 

You threw your purse on the backseat, sighing in exasperation. That conversation was the last thing you needed after that night. “I don’t think it matters right now—“

“It does matter! I could’ve gotten a urinary tract infection.” Hyejin banged the door by her side, and you could tell she simply wasn’t measuring her force right. She groaned, lazily adjusting her body on the seat. “Now, you have to tell me who it was. It’s the minimum you can do.” 

You almost choked on your own saliva.  She really was out of it. “Like I’d ever do something like that.”

Silence grew thick inside the car, falling above you like a blanket. Hyejin looked at you like you had just grown a second head, making sure that she wasn’t drunk enough to imagine you flat-out denying her an information so valuable. To be fair, it wasn’t like you to avoid questions or keep names from her — at least, not so openly. You knew that she wasn’t dumb, and that she could tell that something was up even in her intoxicated state. 

“You’re really not gonna say?” She tried again, still struggling to keep her speech tied together. It was only a matter of time before she calmed down and fell asleep, and so you wouldn’t have to deal with that subject any further. “You almost gave me an UTI, and now you’re not gonna say who you were with? I need to know if it was worth keeping the bathroom all to yourself, because I already told you, someone probably went up there trying to—“ 

“Shit, Hyejin! I get it, you, can stop now.” You clicked your seatbelt with a bit more aggression than necessary. “You’re drunk right now.”

You leaned over her and placed her seatbelt too, since you were pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to do it herself. Not with that poor movement precision. 

“And?” She pressed on as you moved back to your seat. “You’re going to tell me once I’m sober or something?”

You laughed, placing one of your hands on the wheel. “No, of course not.”

“Fine!” She crossed her arms dramatically and looked out of the window, pouting like a child. “I hate you for not saying.” 

“Well, I love you.” You looked at her, your own gaze navigating towards the window. Beyond the fogged glass, the house glowed in the most diverse colors, the sound of the bass reverberating inside your car like a distant pulse. You watched, heart clenching inside of your chest, as Taehyung stepped out of the front door with Jimin, his head hanging low and a smile at the corner of his lips. There was a volume at his front pocket, where you were sure he had tugged in your panties. “But now I think that we should go home and sleep. Let’s keep this conversation on hold.” 

Hyejin, however, wasn’t satisfied. “You know that I’ll find out eventually,” she said, still looking out of the window. “I always do.” 

You chuckled, turning on the engine of the car. On the other side of the street, the two boys took the opposite direction, leaving you two to stare at the open road before you. “Well, I’d love to see you try.”

[snackhobi]

pairing: jungkook x reader / word count: 13.4k / genre: fluff + comedy (I suppose)

summary: you work the night shift in a supermarket. and now your crush, aka the cutest boy in the world, aka the guy you’ve been thirsting after for months, aka jeon jungkook, works the night shift too. les geddit

warnings: this fic is sfw BUT there is cursing/explicit language—the reader is thirsty af, just SO thirsty, seriously the thirstiest, but other than that this fic is pretty soft

a/n: thank you to my darling friend and beta reader @hobi-gif​​, without whom this would have remained an unpublished fic I just wrote for funsies, and also to @yeojaa​​ for reading this through and enjoying this terrible self indulgence of mine, you’re both queens

--

Why is it that all the interesting things happen whenever you’re not at work? Like the time you'd been off for one (1) night so that you could move into your new place, so you hadn't witnessed the full on brawl between a customer and the security guard right before the store shut. Or the other time when you were twenty minutes late because of road closures and you’d missed all the free doughnuts—Yoongi hadn’t even saved you one, opting to give it to his crush instead, even though Jimin wasn’t even night shift. 

(Yoongi was a Judas, betraying you all because of a little thirst. Snake.)

(Okay, sure, you're friends with Jimin too, but still.)

Anyway. You’re here almost all weeks of the year, and the few times you’re not, that’s when things get interesting. Working in any sort of retail job is boring at best, especially when the store is shut overnight (customers during the day were awful but at least they provided an ever rotating cast of varying characters that could provide amusing anecdotes to add to your repertoire), and it’s downright frustrating whenever you miss out on the few variations to your usually monotonous nights just because you happened to miss it.

Yoongi is also The Worst at keeping you updated. He has little to no interest in gossip and keeps himself firmly out of unnecessary interpersonal drama, staying uninvolved by being entirely unapproachable and blanking people whenever they try to talk to him. You keep out of it too, but in a different way— you don’t get involved in drama because everyone likes you. You’re personable and social, almost to a clownish degree, somehow treading the line between being Nice and Firm, so people simultaneously like you while also being wary of annoying you. 

Either way. When you’re not there, Yoongi doesn’t go out of his way to find out any developments, so you’re always left floundering to catch up with whatever’s gone on so that you can keep your position as Liked-By-All-Sides as secure.

So, with all of this in mind, when he says that nothing interesting has happened in the two weeks since you’ve been off, you’re understandably sceptical, raising an eyebrow at him from where you’re reclining in his passenger seat. The entire supermarket could have burned down while he’d been working and Yoongi would probably say of the event afterwards—if pressed—that it had ‘been a little hotter than usual’.

(At least Jimin indulges you with petty gossip. You’re certain he’d let you know about any new developments, but he’s not on a late shift tonight, much to the disappointment of both yourself and Yoongi—although he won't admit it.)

You hadn’t sensed any ripples in the Force when you’d stepped into the supermarket. Everything looked the same, all the way down to the slightly wonky sign on the front display that was trying to persuade customers to buy the new lines of overpriced olives and antipasti, and nothing felt any different on your journey up to the locker rooms; the poster asking everyone to book their holiday before the 26th June 2001 was still up, as it should be; the sight of Yoongi walking in the direction of the staff canteen as you went to dump your stuff in your locker was as familiar as normal. You were usually good at sniffing out change, but everything had passed your smell check and so you let your guard down, bursting into the break room with your usual aplomb. 

That’s one thing about night shift that people don’t usually realise. Because there aren’t customers around, you can yell up and down the shop floor as much as you like (it’s usually faster than walking around to find someone) and swear or be inappropriate in ways that wouldn’t fly during the day (like bowling products across the floor instead of walking up to the shelf and putting them down). You don’t swear or yell, really, but the amount of time you’ve spent on nights has increased your overall volume and altered your verbal filter, so once you’ve kicked the door open, what comes out of your mouth is as follows:

“Wassup everyone? Ya girl is back from her time off and is absolutely RARING to go! I know you all missed me, but please, no flash photography,” you simper. You hear Yoongi snort into his coffee from his seat on the sofa, directly under the sign that says ‘No Food Or Drink Allowed On The Sofas’ alongside a picture of a dancing hot dog with a massive red X across it.

Most of your coworkers are a lot older than you—young people don’t tend to work overnight—so they don’t match your level of energy, but they’re still pleased to see you nonetheless, a little chorus of hellos greeting you when you walk into the room. You shoot finger guns at them, ending with an overly theatrical wink at Taehyung, wiggling your fingers in a wave at the boy as he grins at you through his mouthful of food (he’s not night shift but he finishes a lot of his shifts late so you're on friendly terms). 

When you flop down next to Yoongi he wordlessly hands you a coffee. You hiss a little at the contact of the hot mug against your skin—he’s holding onto the handle, and you’re quick to accept it from him so you don’t burn yourself—and peer down at the hot liquid before taking a small drink.

You’re mid-sip when your eyes flick up from the mug and you immediately splutter. You cough and hack, eyes filling with tears as you try to swallow the noises down to no avail; you sound distressed enough that even Yoongi gets concerned, thumping you on the back as you make a noise akin to a cat wheezing out a hairball.

“Yoongi.” Your voice is pained as you look out of the corner of your eye at the boy sitting next to you. “I thought you said nothing interesting had happened while I was off?”

Yoongi looks perplexed. “Nothing did,” he says. Somehow you resist the overwhelming urge to pour your coffee all over him.

“Then explain to me exactly why the Muscle Boy from morning shift who works on fruit and veg is sat over there in a night shift uniform,” you hiss.

“Oh, yeah.” Yoongi sounds entirely disinterested. “He moved on to nights the first week you were off.”

So not only has the hitherto-unreachable object of your affections moved on to your shift—great, you weren't mentally prepared for that at all—he'd apparently witnessed your unnecessarily theatrical entrance, as well as your subsequent near death experience via coffee. You wish that the near death experience had, in fact, been a full death experience; your final moments may have been undignified but at least you’d have gone out while looking at a pretty face and not have to live with the embarrassment afterwards, knowing that Jeon Jungkook had witnessed you spluttering coffee down your chin.

Normally your Jungkook-radar (Kookiedar? You’ll have to work on the name for it) is faultless, flawless, sensitive to his exact location at all times—but he was never there at night. You only saw him in the mornings, catching glimpses of him on your way out, lifting heavy crates of bananas or potatoes onto the displays. But he’s here, now, sat on his own table, alone, away from the other workers.

While you hadn’t spotted him before, what with how he’s sequestered himself alone, from your vantage point now? You can clearly see him, and you know that he would have had full view of you from the moment you’d stepped into the room.

He's on night shift now. With you. 

“Yoongi, buddy?”

“Yeah?”

“If I asked you to kill me, would you do it?”

“No." His answer is immediate, but before you can be warmed by the fact he doesn’t wish for your imminent death, he continues: “I’d have to find someone else to reduce food for me, and I can’t go back to buying full priced noodles after this long.”

“I’ll reduce your head from your body,” you threaten, even though it makes no sense. Yoongi doesn’t react outwardly to this threat but you would wager anything that he was quivering in his boots, even though he’s doing a very good job of calmly sipping at his coffee. Ahh, Yoongi, always the master of the pokerface, despite the fact he must be terrified.

Anyway. You’re getting distracted. Basically, snake Yoongi had snaked on you and hadn’t told you about Jungkook transferring to night shift, like the snake he was. Yoongi being the snake, that is, not Jungkook. He wasn’t a snake. Sure, you’d never spoken to him in all the months you’d seen him and knew next to nothing about him but no one could be a snake when they looked that innocent. Besides, you’d seen him help customers, smiling at the old ladies who asked for him to reach for specific bits of fruit from higher shelves, or carrying their shopping for them, or— 

Argh, you were getting distracted again. Essentially he was a hot, muscular angel who hadn’t had your existence on his own radar until approximately five minutes ago, and his first impression of you must be that you are an absolute clown. A buffoon. And, okay, maybe you are, but you usually only let people onto that fact after knowing them for at least a day or two.

He’d looked startled when you’d made eye contact with him across the canteen, tearing his eyes away from you the second you’d tried to inhale coffee instead of ingesting it. You’re grateful that he’s resolutely kept his gaze away, absorbed by something on his phone instead, but he must have heard your desperate wheezing from across the room. Even if you’ve managed to cough away the coffee in your lungs by now it doesn’t detract from the overall embarrassment that threatens to swallow you up.

Beside you, Yoongi continues to drink his coffee like a normal human being. He’s oblivious to your inner turmoil. Of course your crush had moved to night shift when you were on holiday. Of course you’d missed that. Why wouldn’t you? You were a snail and God was salting you. What had you done to deserve such torment? 

“I can’t believe you didn’t think a new person was something I’d at least like to be made aware of,” you mutter waspishly. “Especially as he’s around our age! Since Hobi left we haven’t had anyone on shift who isn’t at least a decade older than us, Yoons.” 

As is tradition, Yoongi says: “A moment of silence for our boy Hobi.” You both shut your eyes and tilt your heads forward as you mourn your fallen brother. (He wasn’t dead, he’d just moved to a different job a few months ago, although you both still see him on a weekly basis.) And then Yoongi continues: “I guess I didn’t think it was important.”

“Do you have a single wrinkle on your brain, Yoongi? Huh? Or is it completely smooth up there? Why wouldn’t a new night shift worker be something I’d want to know about?”

“I figured you’d find out eventually anyway.” Yoongi shrugs.

“I hope a stack of bread falls on you,” you say.

You’re glad when it hits 9pm and your manager, Sejin, gets everyone’s attention for the huddle so he can tell everyone where they’re working for the night. You normally don’t pay much attention but this time you’re like a bloodhound on a scent trail, sniffing out what where Jungkook is going to be.

“Jungkook, you’re on the fruit and veg section,” your manager says, and your nostrils flare. Of course. You’re entirely unsurprised when he delegates Jungkook to the fruit and vegetable aisles— it’s what the boy is familiar with, after all. 

Most people in the store have areas they’re better at and do the same thing over and over, but you’re a bit of a wildcard, happy to work anywhere, so your own role varies a bit. You’d actually been there longer than Sejin, who’s a fairly new manager; he’d latched desperately onto you when he realised that you a) had been trained on pretty much everything and b) were also a pretty decent worker, on the whole, and so he allows you more freedom than he might afford other people.

So, because of this, you know that if you asked then he’d happily move you to a different area of the store, but you don't actually know where you want to go. You’re torn between hoping that you’re in a section near Jungkook (so you can ogle him) or the opposite of the store (so you’re saved any further shame due to the fact that you’re an absolute dunderhead, just an absolute embarrassment, why were you allowed outside?), but then Sejin tells you your job for the night and you can’t help a groan from escaping you.

“It’s my first shift back after my holiday and you want me to reduce all night?” 

You can’t help but sound a little whiny. Reducing is so boring. Looking through everything on the shelf and scanning it and then having to stick the reduced labels on them? Over and over and over? For the whole night? Your brain is already shutting down in anticipation for the repetitive monotony. (You have to try to conserve what few brain cells you have left and you're not about to waste them on this.)

Sejin looks genuinely apologetic. “Some day staff called in sick so there weren’t enough people to finish everything. You only have the meat and fish sections to do.”

You’re so distressed at the idea of having to sift through piles of meat that you don’t notice how Jungkook perks up at this, sitting up a little in his seat; if you’d been paying attention you’d realise that the meat and fish area is directly adjacent to fruit and veg, both sections within direct eyesight of each other. Instead you’re remembering the time you’d had a packet of sea bass leak on you and no matter how many times you’d washed your hands, the fishy smell had remained. Eurgh. 

“Alright, that’s everything!” Sejin claps his hands together. “Let’s get to work, everyone.”

There’s the usual grumblings and mutterings as people start to make their way out of the canteen and downstairs to start work. You take Yoongi’s mug from him and dump both of your empty cups into the hatch of the canteen, already resigning yourself to a long night of misery and boredom. Why did you choose to work in a supermarket, again?

You dawdle around upstairs for longer than you probably should once everyone’s gone, dreading the fact that you’re going to have to properly introduce yourself to Jungkook. Night shift is very insular and you can assume that no one’s introduced themselves to him or made an effort to be friendly— hence why he's been sitting alone. You’re the one person who works overnight who actually goes out of their way to introduce themselves to any new starters, but you’re fairly certain that if you try to introduce yourself to Jungkook you’ll end up throwing up on him. He’s just so hot that it makes you nervous. 

You make a long drawn out ahhhhhhhhhhh noise, letting your frustration out before straightening up and puffing out your chest. It’s fine! You’re fine. You’re a strong, confident, smart night shift worker who’s introduced herself to new people multiple times before. Jungkook is just another person. Sure, he’s the cutest guy you’ve ever seen, but he’s just another person. It’s fine.

It’s not fine. 

The second you round the corner to the fruit and veg section on your way to meat and fish, you see Jungkook effortlessly heft a massive crate of grapefruit as if it weighs nothing and you want to pass out. The one time you’d tried to lift a crate like that you’d almost done your back in, but Jungkook just lifts it with ease.

What’s worse is that while you’ve seen him do this before, he’d been wearing a day shift uniform at the time. The day shift uniform is, honestly, pretty ugly, an ugly beige long-sleeve button up with an equally ugly tan tie under an ugly grey apron (but of course Jungkook had still looked radiant in spite of the ugly ensemble he was forced to wear). The night shift uniform isn’t necessarily attractive either, a simple black polo shirt and combat trousers, but unlike the button up, the polo shirt is a t-shirt— and Jungkook’s rolled the already shorter sleeves up so that all of his arm is on display (holy shit he has tattoos). You can see the flex of his muscles in all their glory, the way his biceps bulge as he lifts the crate higher, the veins that run down to his hands, and your mouth floods with saliva. 

“Arm,” you say.

“Pardon?” Jungkook looks up, confused, and then startles when he sees you. 

“Um, nothing!” you stutter. There’s a loose lock of hair hanging across his forehead and you stare at that rather than looking into his eyes. You’d probably burst into flames if you made eye contact right now. “I just wanted to, uh, introduce myself? I know you’ve been working nights for a few weeks now so I’m kind of late, but I was on holiday. I’m Y/n.”

“I know,” Jungkook says, and then he sees how your eyes widen and he scrabbles to explain. “Uh, Sejin said it during the meeting.” He swallows.

You cough. Of course. There’s no other reason Jungkook would have known your name without you telling him; you sincerely doubt he’d sleuthed your name out via the rotas pinned on the board, much as you had with him. (You swear you’re not a stalker, he’s just really cute, okay?) 

“I’m Jungkook,” he finishes, laughing awkwardly.

“I guessed,” you say, pointing at his name badge like that’s the reason you know it. He stares down at his chest, as if he’d forgotten that he had it pinned there, and although you'd genuinely been looking at the badge, you suddenly notice that you can see the definition of his pecs even with the thick fabric of the polo shirt. You want to pass out again. You need to divert your attention to something else, stat, your brain scrambling for something to say next. “You know, you’re the only person on night shift who’s wearing a badge. No one else does.” 

You wince. Great. Now you sound like an asshole. Nice going, idiot.

Jungkook glances away from his badge to your finger, which is still pointing. He’s staring at your nail polish. Even though no one cares what the night shift gets up to, nail polish is technically against the rules and you wonder if he’s about to say something derogatory—you’d deserve it, you were just kind of a dick to him—when he smiles instead. “I like your nails.”

“O-oh,” you stutter, surprised. They’re nothing special, the colour a little chipped in places, but you’re still flattered by how genuine Jungkook’s compliment sounds. “Um. Thanks.” And because you have a habit of responding to compliments with one of your own, you say: "I really like your tattoos. The flowers are beautiful."

Jungkook looks stunned and doesn't respond. You spend a few moments staring at each other before Sejin rounds the corner, and you both abruptly turn away so it doesn’t look like you’re just standing around and talking instead of working (although that is, in fact, what you’re doing). You hustle over to the meat section, grabbing packs of bacon and pretending to look at the dates, even though you have no idea what date it is. No thoughts head full of Jungkook.

Over the years, you’ve mastered the art of Quick Glancing™. While to anyone watching you it would seem as though you’re absorbed in your work, sifting through food to check if it’s going out of date, you’re actually looking at Jungkook more often than not. Whenever it seems like he might catch you, your eyes dart back to whatever cut of meat you’re holding at the time—a box of liver, eww, slimy—but you spend the majority of the time watching him move around. You can’t help but wonder if he’d lift you as easily as those crates and have to suppress a full body shiver. Down, girl.

Yoongi appears like clockwork the second it hits midnight, leaning against the fridge as you stare at a pack of chicken wings. “Coffee time.”

“Oh, thank God.” You straighten up, unceremoniously dropping the chicken wings onto the shelf. “Caffeine, I need caffeine, get me the caffeine.”

You get the caffeine. You and Yoongi always go back to the canteen at midnight for coffee—even though you’re technically not meant to—and bring your mugs downstairs—something else you’re also not meant to do. You drink your coffee between looking at the packets of food on the shelf, sifting through trays of chicken breasts and stickering whatever's due to go out of date as Yoongi idles around near you, peering at everything you’ve slapped a reduced label on. He clicks his tongue at a lacklustre reduction, unimpressed at how little money has been slashed off the price, and honestly? Mood. 

“Don’t you have bread to put out?”

“Finished it. I’m waiting for the next delivery.” Yoongi yawns, but then his eyes suddenly narrow as he looks in the direction of fruit and veg. “Your new little friend keeps looking at us. I think he might be a narc.”

“Huh? Oh, Jungkook?” You look up from the chicken thighs. Jungkook is far out of earshot but clearly visible, hunched over a shelf as he starts to furiously organise some courgettes. “Nah, I don’t think he’s a narc. Besides, what’s Sejin going to do? Fire us? We get coffee all the time and he's never said anything about it before.”

“Yeah, but Jungkook doesn’t know that.” Yoongi scowls. He sounds suspicious. “Hm. I’m going to go back to bread, but keep an eye on that one.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. “Got it,” you say with a salute. 

Yoongi wanders off but not before throwing Jungkook a sharp look, which the boy doesn’t notice, resolutely staring at the courgettes. Seems like he’s really intent on making them look neat, which you think is kind of unnecessary, but whatever. It's kind of cute actually. 

You don’t think Jungkook is a snitch, but you do have to admit it’s maybe a little weird how often you seem to catch him watching you, though he’s very quick to look away. Your suspicions grow somewhat when he ends up in the canteen at the same time as you, eating your lunch a lot later than everyone else. You like the peace and quiet when the room is almost empty. 

Yoongi normally has lunch with you, but today he’d had to eat earlier because Sejin had asked him to help unload the delivery lorry, so you’re alone in the room with Jungkook. Although he sits on the table farthest away from you, it’s maybe a bit strange that he’s up there when you are. Like, sure, you do appreciate the fact that you can gawk at him a little bit more, but maybe Yoongi is right about him being a narc?

Nah. You’re probably just being paranoid. Jungkook is clearly introverted, not talking to the other guys working on the fruit and veg section, so he probably came up at the quietest time of day (/night) so he could avoid everyone. You can understand that.

Your lunch is almost over and you’re in the middle of making yourself and Yoongi another cup of coffee to take downstairs when Jungkook suddenly appears at your shoulder. You yelp in surprise when you notice him there, scattering coffee granules across the counter instead of dropping them in the cup like you’d meant to, clutching your chest in shock.

“Oh, God, sorry,” he apologises, and he fumbles as he scoops the granules into his palm to clear them up—and then he just stands there with a handful of instant coffee as he looks at you. You’re still clutching your heart. “Uh. I was wondering, do you bring your own coffee in?”

“Yes,” you say, cagey, unsure what he wants. You notice that he’s unintentionally cornered you against the counter, and now that your earlier shock has ebbed away, you can’t help but notice your height difference when he’s this close to you. “Can’t get coffee overnight otherwise. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, uh, I just didn’t realise we were allowed to?” Jungkook sounds awkward, unsure. “I would have brought my own in if I’d known.”

You stare at him for a second. Yoongi would kill you if he saw what you did next, but you just end up turning around to grab another mug and dump a spoonful of coffee into it. “Do you have milk or sugar?”

“Huh?”

“Do you have milk or sugar? In your coffee?” You repeat carefully, tapping a spoon against the third mug, trying to tamp down the blush that’s threatening to appear on your cheeks when you glance at Jungkook over your shoulder. “You want one, right?”

“Oh.” He goes a little lax with surprise, apparently not realising that he’s done so until he drops a few bits of coffee on the floor and then lifts his hand again—you can see where the granules that are directly in contact with his skin have started to dissolve a little, sticky. The pile of coffee looks so small in his big hands. You want to eat out of his palm, as gross as that thought is. “Yeah, milk and sugar, please.”

As he goes to wash the coffee from his hands, you stare at yourself in the reflection of the metal kettle, wondering what the fuck you were doing while also trying to tame your thirst into submission. You never let anyone have your coffee (except Yoongi, obviously, and Hobi, when he’d been here) (a moment of silence for your boy) and you’ve known Jungkook for less than one (1) shift and you’ve already initiated him as part of the Coffee Crew.

Yoongi picks up on this immediately, spotting you and Jungkook reemerging onto the shop floor at the same time, although you peel away to visit your friend in the bread section. “Is that a mug that I saw Jungkook holding?”

“Yeah,” you say with forced casualness, wary of Yoongi’s response. Here we go.

But to your surprise he seems pleased. “He can’t narc on us now that he’s drinking coffee on the shop floor too,” Yoongi says.

“Oh, right! Yeah, that was my plan all along.” You force laughter, as if your pulse hadn’t been racing as you’d watched Jungkook take the first sip from the coffee you’d prepared for him, worried that he wouldn’t like it. You’d wanted to vomit your heart out of chest when he’d given you a small, shy smile and said that it was perfect, as if he wasn’t drinking cheap, crappy instant coffee, which was subpar even when it was good.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows at your fake hyena laughter but decides not to comment on it.

He raises his eyebrows again the next night when he witnesses you preparing coffee for Jungkook firsthand, lining up three mugs at midnight instead of just two, making coffee the way Jungkook likes it. “Once was enough to stop him from double crossing us, I think,” Yoongi says.

“I’m making this for him because I want Jungkook to be part of the group,” you say firmly, ignoring the way your hand trembles a little when you say this. Jungkook had waved goodbye to you when he’d spotted you in the morning after your first shift together, and tonight he’d made eye contact when you’d walked into the break room—more quietly than you had the day before—before smiling at you. (You’re constantly torn between wanting to coo at how adorable he is or begging him to bend you over a table, and it’s hard to keep these thoughts from showing on your face whenever you smile at him, but you’re doing a damn good job.)

Yoongi, despite his usual unflappable nature, looks absolutely floored. Even though you’d both spoken to Hoseok from the moment he’d started working with you, it had taken you a few weeks before you’d even offered to get him a drink at midnight, a mutual decision both you and Yoongi had agreed upon. And here you were, inviting Jungkook in without consulting your coworker-turned-best-friend, after one night. (You’re sure Hobi wouldn’t mind, but you feel kind of bad when you think about it and resolve to pay for his lunch when you see him next week.)

Yoongi squints at you as you keep your attention focused on the coffee and so don’t see the realisation settling across his features.

“Oh,” he says once it’s clicked. “You wanna suck his dick.”

You end up scattering coffee across the counter again. At this rate you may as well just pour the granules straight into the bin and cut out the middle man.

“Yeah, you wanna suck his dick,” Yoongi muses, watching as you grouse and clean up the coffee. 

“At least when I talk about your crush on Jimin I have the decency to not be crude about it,” you say, jabbing a finger in Yoongi’s direction. He flushes.

“I don’t have a crush on Jimin,” he scowls. You scoff.

“Oh, please, Yoons. You’re not as subtle as you think. If I catch you staring at Jimin’s ass one more time with those googly eyes of yours I’m gonna yarf.” Jimin’s ass, admittedly, is very nice, the awful work trousers somehow flattering on him, but it’s the reverence with which Yoongi looks at it that makes his crush obvious. Amongst plenty of other things. “And you let him have my doughnut! As if that isn’t practically a declaration of marriage!”

“You’re still going on about the doughnut?” Yoongi rolls his eyes. “That happened months ago.”

“It was a limited edition Krispy Kreme doughnut, Yoons!” Your voice has gone shrill. “A motherfucking Kit Kat doughnut! The only reason I didn’t strike you down where you stood is because I fully support your crush on Jimin, even if I think it’s ridiculous you haven’t asked him out already! Anyway,” you say, letting the spoon clatter into the mug. “Whether or not I want to suck Jungkook’s dick, I miss having a third person in this group. Hobi actually laughed at my jokes.”

“I laugh at your jokes when they’re funny.”

“You never laugh at them!”

“I said what I said.”

“I’m going to poison your coffee so Jungkook and I can drink the rest in peace,” you say. “Oh, moment of silence for Hobi, we almost forgot.” The moment of silence lasts for a second, and then you’re pouring the freshly boiled water into the mugs. 

“I guess I should talk to Jungkook, then.” Yoongi still sounds suspicious and you glare at him as you stir the coffee.

“If I find out that you’re being mean to him, I will genuinely poison your drink,” you say, lifting the spoon and gesturing with it aggressively enough that a droplet of coffee goes flying off and lands on Yoongi’s face. You have no doubt that Jungkook could snap Yoongi like a twig if he wanted to, but Jungkook seems far too nice for that, and Yoongi can be surprisingly intimidating. 

“You won’t poison me.” He wipes the coffee away, unperturbed.

You snort. “I’ll use decaff and I won’t tell you.”

This makes Yoongi’s eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t dare.”

"Watch me.”

With that threat firmly in place, you feel a little better when you hand Jungkook’s coffee to Yoongi to give to him. You’re not near the fruit and vegetable section tonight so you won’t be able to keep a direct eye on them, but you’ll catch up with Yoongi once he’s wandered back over to bread.

You’re starting to feel a bit suspicious at how long Yoongi’s been absent for and so you make your way across the shop floor to see if you can find him. To your infinite surprise you spot both guys near the salads, Yoongi perched on an upturned crate while Jungkook puts watercress onto the shelf, the two of them in deep discussion about something. You feel like you’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone when you see Yoongi genuinely laugh and you back away, unsettled. 

When you eat lunch that night, Jungkook sits with you on your table at Yoongi’s behest. It’s still a quiet affair, like normal—you take as many opportunities as you can to sneak glances at Jungkook, surprised at exactly how much food he puts away—but when he offers to make the coffee, you have a hushed conversation with Yoongi while your muscle boy is distracted. You keep your eyes fixed on Jungkook’s back, and it really is unfair how good his shoulder blades look with that black material stretched across them. There’s no point in trying to hide your thirst from Yoongi now that he knows about it so you’re free to stare.

“I thought you said he was a narc,” you whisper, eyes still fixed on Jungkook's back. How is his waist so small? (Lord have mercy on your soul.)

“Nah, Jungkook is okay,” Yoongi replies. In Yoongi-speak this means that he really likes Jungkook and you’re flabbergasted. 

You don’t get a chance to say anything else before Jungkook is turning around, proffering your drinks to you with a bright smile—you can see his teeth, and you’ve never wanted to lick someone’s teeth before but apparently the sight of Jungkook’s mouth will do that to you, who would have guessed. It’s been two shifts and you’re already this dehydrated, just dying of thirst, shrivelled up like Spongebob in that episode where he visits Sandy’s dome for the first time. You’re a crusty thirsty sponge and Jungkook is a tall, sexy glass of water.

(You’re so fucking screwed.)

--

The thing with initiating Jungkook into the Coffee Crew is that you’re faced with the reality of his good looks constantly. Jungkook still doesn’t talk to anyone else, really, but he lights up around Yoongi and yourself, and you start to look forward to seeing those shiny doe eyes of his, the way he perks up whenever he sees you. 

Work quickly becomes the highlight of your week, which is something you thought you'd never say, but Jungkook is just too powerful. Everything about him is absolutely fucking devastating, a few examples being:

The night when it’s a little warmer, and he unbuttons all three buttons on his polo shirt—you can see his collarbones and the tiniest bit of his chest, going feral over such a small slip of skin like you’re some sort of Victorian lady who keeps her ankles hidden in public and you’ve never seen bare skin before.

Or when you got caught behind him on the stairs while he’s explaining the difference between meat protein and vegetable protein—you get a wonderful view of his ass, which you take full advantage of (respectfully). You get another look at said ass when he plays a game of pool against Yoongi while you sit on the sofa and watch, Jungkook leaning over the wonky pool table so that he can make a particularly difficult shot, placing his wonderful butt directly into your line of vision.

Or when you notice that even though Jungkook cycles to work, he never seems to smell like sweat, and instead he just smells like fresh clothes, clean linen that’s so potent you can smell him before you see him. But no one smells that much like clean laundry, right? It must be his cologne.

“Jungkook, do you wear cologne?”

Jungkook, to his credit, doesn’t seem surprised at your question and just answers it like he would any other. “No, why?”

“Oh, it’s just that you smell nice? Sort of like whatever 'clean cotton' is apparently meant to smell like. Y’know? Like fresh laundry.”

“I do wash my clothes every day,” he says. “I guess you could call me a bit of a clean freak?”

For some reason, the fact that he smells so nice because of his clothes is just so hot. You want to bury your face in his shirt and just breathe him in, but that would be weird and creepy and invasive. So you don’t do that and instead allow yourself to sniff from a polite distance, olfactory senses working overtime whenever he’s nearby.

(Yoongi finds you uncapping all the detergents down the laundry aisle one night, desperately huffing each type to try and work out which one Jungkook uses. “Jesus Christ,” he says, watching as you take a particularly long drag of whatever Spring Day is—it’s pleasant, whatever it is, but it’s not what you’re looking for. “Are you trying to get high?”

“Smell this,” you say instead, shoving it in his face. He takes a wary sniff, nose crinkling. “This is nice, isn’t it?”

“I guess?” Yoongi seems baffled. “Okay, you’re clearly busy, I’ll tell Sejin to ask someone else to do the job.” You don’t reply, too busy sucking in a lungful of Crystal Snow as Yoongi backs away.)

Jungkook also seems to have this weird knack of appearing whenever you need help lifting or moving something heavy. Normally you hate it when someone steps in to help you, a little offended at the idea that you can’t do something yourself—you've been doing this for long enough that you've developed a technique for things—but when Jungkook does it you don’t feel disrespected at all. He’s just so nice about it.

Like the time when you’re struggling to move an empty wooden pallet and put it on top of a stack of others; not only is it heavy, it's large and unwieldy, too. The last time you’d tried to move one of these you’d ended up hitting it against your shins while also getting a palmful of splinters. You hate these things. Jungkook, however, materialises out of seemingly nowhere and offers you his help. He ends up lifting the thing himself, squatting down to grab it and just tossing it on top of the pile. He does it effortlessly, literally effortlessly, like the pallet weighs nothing to him, and when you ask if he thought it was heavy, he blinks.

“No, not really,” he says. You have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from screeching.

“You must lift a lot of weights,” you say, weakly, and Jungkook nods.

“I’ve started incorporating weights into my pull up routine recently, too.” 

“Oh? Do you, like… tie them to yourself or something? Uh. How heavy are they?” 

Jungkook perks up, apparently excited at the opportunity of talking about exercise. “I hold a fifteen kilogram weight in one hand while I do a pull up with the other,” he says. 

Your legs feel weak at this mental image and you end up sitting on the stack of pallets as Jungkook starts to tell you about the rest of his workout routine, and when you find out he does kickboxing as well, you almost have to excuse yourself so that you can try and calm down. Instead you grin and bear it, your fingers digging into your thighs in the horniest grip known to man, acting like this is just a normal conversation that is absolutely not affecting you, no sir, no sirree, holy shit you’re going to die.

That night you do have to excuse yourself at lunch when you make a comment on Jungkook’s food, and he says that he needs to keep his calorie count up because he’s bulking at the moment.

“Bulking? Like for abs?” Yoongi asks.

“I already have abs,” Jungkook says dismissively. Your leg jolts under the table and your knee hits the underside of it, sending your empty lunch box almost flying to the floor, and Jungkook and Yoongi look at you in alarm. “Are you alright, Y/n?”

“Bathroom,” you gasp. “I gotta—bathroom. Lady stuff.”

You splash water over your face and run it over your wrists, desperately trying to cool down. You’d suspected he had abs, for multiple reasons, not least of all the fact that whenever he leaned back in his chair the material of his shirt would settle on his stomach in a way that hinted at the shape of the muscles underneath, but to hear him confirm it—like it was nothing—good lord. (Yoongi’s caught you staring at Jungkook’s stomach multiple times when the boy was distracted, but you’re beyond caring. If you have to deal with Yoongi fawning over Jimin then he can put up with you ogling Jungkook.)

When you come back, Yoongi is at the counter making your coffees while Jungkook is still sitting at the table. You slide back into your seat, about as composed as you’re going to get, when Jungkook leans towards you.

“Are you okay?” He looks worried. “I have some heat pads in my locker if, um, you wanted them, if you’re having period pains?” he says, but then he looks unsure. “I don’t know if you’re actually meant to use them on your tummy, though.”

Tummy. You want to squeal at how cute the word is, not to mention the fact that Jungkook doesn’t seem bothered about talking about period related stuff, unlike a lot of guys you’d known. “Oh, uh, no, thanks, Jungkook,” you say, flushing. “That’s really nice of you but I’m alright.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says, although he’s still clearly concerned. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

And that’s the other thing. You still think Jungkook is the hottest person you’ve ever seen, of course, but he’s also so nice. And hardworking. And sweet. And gentle and thoughtful and determined and talented and just—he's just a whole lot of man, really, just so much, too much. Initially you’d been attracted to him based purely on how cute he was, but now that you've actually gotten to know him, your attraction has morphed into a full-on all consuming crush that’s absolutely catastrophic. 

Even when you’re not at work, you keep zoning out because you’re thinking about: Jungkook’s arms, Jungkook’s thighs, Jungkook’s face, Jungkook’s personality, or a mix of all of the above. You can’t focus on things when all you can think about is Jungkook. 

Jimin, of course, has been kept fully up to date with the situation. You squat behind the bakery counter whenever he’s on a late shift, hiding away from prying eyes so that you can talk to him as he tidies up, although you know he’s making moony eyes at Yoongi, who’ll glance back at him between the shelves of bread. 

You groan into your hands from your cross legged position on the floor, sat atop a flattened croissant box, and Jimin pats you sympathetically on the head.

“Jungkook is very cute,” says Jimin. You groan again.

“I want him to raw me,” you say. Yoongi must have been closer than you thought because you hear a noise of disgust from the other side of the counter before the sound of his footsteps moving away. Jimin laughs his tinkly little laugh as you continue to speak. “But I also want him to hold my hand? And I wanna kiss his cute little forehead. And make him breakfast in bed. Ugh. I hate this,” you whine. 

Jimin pats your head again. “Why don’t you ask him for coffee?”

You take your head out of your hands and fix him with a pout. “Why don’t you?”

“You know I don’t ask people for coffee, Y/n, I’m the one who gets asked,” Jimin says, and you know he’s projecting his voice so that Yoongi can hear him. You also know that Yoongi is too dense to pick up on this obvious flirtation, even though you can see how Jimin throws a wink in the direction of where Yoongi must be; you don’t turn to look over the counter but you hear the distinct sound of someone walking into a stack of bread and knocking it over, before Yoongi swears. Jimin just looks fond.

“Oh my God, just marry each other already,” you mutter.

“He has to ask me out first,” Jimin says, softly enough that Yoongi can’t hear from where he must be furiously tidying up the bread, if the sound of plastic packaging and low curses are anything to go by. “Seriously, Y/n, it sounds like Jungkook likes you as well. I think you should just go for it.”

You sigh. “Jungkook’s so far out of my league it’s like we’re not even playing the same sport. He’s sinking three pointers while I’m, I don’t know, whacking balls with a croquet mallet,” you mumble.

Jungkook is nice and funny and works out and is hot, so hot, the kind of hot that has people literally stopping to look at him. (You certainly had, the first time you'd spotted him down an aisle, doing a literal double take at how cute he was.) You, meanwhile, are a clown whose sense of humour has been warped by years of niche internet memes, you drink more coffee than is probably medically advisable, and make-up can only take you up to a shaky 6/10 on a very good day. All in all: Not Exactly A Catch.

Jimin clearly disagrees. “Don’t be stupid, Y/n.” He sounds genuinely mad, frowning at you. "If I didn’t like Yoongi I absolutely would have asked you out by now. Jungkook would be lucky to have you, you are a wholeass meal.”

“Yoongi compared me to a slug the other day,” you say. Admittedly it was because he’d knocked on your door when you’d been in the middle of shaving your legs, your skin shining with coconut oil—so the slug slime comment was definitely warranted and hadn’t been an insult—but Jimin’s expression turns murderous, unaware of the context.

“Min Yoongi, you get over here right now,” he hisses. Yoongi is there in seconds. “Did you call Y/n a slug?”

Yoongi’s face looms at you from over the counter. “Should’ve called her a snake instead,” he says, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Hiss hiss,” you say. “That’s what you get for chatting shit about coconut oil.” 

Jimin blinks before his face goes smooth and a look of understanding crosses his features, raising an eyebrow at you. You bat your eyelashes at him innocently.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I’m going back to the bagels,” he says, but then his voice is gentle when he continues: “Unless you need something else, Jimin?”

“No, thank you, Yoongi.” He smiles at Yoongi, soft and sweet, instantly forgetting about the slug comment.

The two of them look at each other like the rest of the world has ceased to exist and you mime throwing up, but because they’re looking at each other like the rest of the world has ceased to exist, neither of them notice. You hear Yoongi’s footsteps recede and you lift your hands in despair.

“How is it even when I’m having a breakdown over a boy, the two of you manage to be so incredibly gay over each other?”

“It’s a talent,” Jimin says. “Besides, as happy as I am to listen to you, there’s only so many ways you can say I wanna suck Jungkook’s dick so bad, or he’s so adorable, what the fuck, or oh my God, Jungkook is so hot and I’m so thirsty, which are all things you’ve said, verbatim, multiple times.”

“It’s true.” You pout. “You’ve only seen Jungkook from a distance, anyway. He’s even better up close.” The bakery section is the other side of the supermarket, as far away from the fruit and veg section as you can possibly get; Jungkook has a much better work ethic than you and Yoongi and actually stays in his area to work, so he hasn’t met Jimin properly yet. 

Jimin’s expression becomes thoughtful. “You know what, that’s true,” he says. 

You’re immediately on guard. Jimin is well-meaning and considerate and kind, but he also loves to meddle and has absolutely no shame about it—the second you see that glint in his eyes, you think that maybe you’ve said something you shouldn’t have, but then you notice the time and your eyes widen.

“Oh, shit, I better go pretend to work before Sejin realises I’m missing.” You scrabble to your feet. “If I don’t see you before you go, have a safe drive home, Jimin!”

Jimin’s usually pretty punctual about leaving on time (even if he’ll hang around to talk to Yoongi, ugh). You wander over to the fruit section to help Sejin fill a display stand, and you freeze in the middle of lifting some apples into a paper bag when you spot Jimin talking to Jungkook. Jimin looks coy, Jungkook looks confused, and you? You probably look constipated. Why is Jimin still here?

You only realise that your mouth is open when Jimin spots you and winks, overexaggerated and theatrical. Your mouth snaps shut as Jungkook’s attention turns to whatever he’s winking at. You duck out of sight before he can spot you, scampering down the length of the store before practically throwing your apples at Sejin, who is understandably caught off guard and fails to catch the bag.

“I’ll go get some blueberries for the other shelf from the back room,” you bark in his face, all but running away before he can respond, leaving him surrounded by the escapee apples (escapples?) that are rolling away from him. You skulk around the entrance of the fruit and veg room for a little while, waiting for Jimin to leave via the staff exit—directly across from where you’re standing—but he doesn’t appear and you can only pretend to look for blueberries for so long, eventually returning to Sejin while despondently clutching the trays of berries.

Jungkook doesn’t seem any different when you make your midnight coffee run, and lunch is about as normal as usual. When you mention Jimin, he smiles, saying that it was nice to finally meet him, but other than seemingly slightly distracted—as if deep in thought—that’s it. There’s no hint that Jimin mentioned anything about you at all, least of all your crush—thank God—but you can feel the ripples in the Force. (Or maybe that was all the coffee you were drinking, seriously, maybe you should slow down?) You know that it’s not a coincidence that you’d had yet another meltdown about Jungkook right before Jimin had introduced himself to the object of your affections. You also know that Jimin knows that you know that, utterly shameless as always.

Jimin is on another late shift the next night. You squat behind the bakery counter when it’s unmanned, Jimin going outside to throw away some old baguettes or whatever, and you (metaphorically) pounce on him when he reappears. “Park Jimin.”

Jimin is entirely unsurprised. In fact he even has a box for you to sit on, proffering a flattened piece of porridge packaging; you feel uncomfortable at the idea of sitting on the Quaker Oats guy’s face and flip it over so you can see brown cardboard rather than his weirdly smug expression looking up at you. “Yes?”

“What exactly were you talking to Jungkook about last night?” You peer up at him, attempting to look at least somewhat threatening, but it’s kind of hard when you’re so much lower to the ground than Jimin is right now. Jimin has to look down at you so far that he’s given himself a double chin, but he’s still gorgeous, because of course he is. (He should leave some for the rest of you, jeez.)

“Oh, a lot of things,” Jimin says. “You were right about him being a sweetheart. He’s very nice. I approve.”

“What are you, my dad?” You mutter to yourself, but then: “You didn’t say anything about my crush, did you?”

Jimin is a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them. So when he answers you with a simple “no” you believe him, although you can’t help but still feel a little suspicious. Your gut might be full of coffee more often than not, but she’s also a smart bitch—smarter than your brain for sure—and your gut is telling you that Park Jimin must have done or said something.

“Yoongi is putting the tortillas out, so excuse me if I’m distracted,” Jimin says. The tortilla wraps are on the bottom shelf so Yoongi has to bend over to work them. You make a face of disgust and stand up to leave.

“Fine, me and the Quaker Oats guy will take ourselves elsewhere.” You tuck the flattened box snugly under your arm. “We know when we’re not wanted.” 

You feel a little bad later when you put the box into the industrial baler that you have, the machine crushing all of your cardboard flat, saddened that you’ve had to part from your new friend so soon. Bye, Quaker Oats guy. 

Jungkook finds you standing in front of the baler with a genuinely sad expression on your face, silent as the machine makes mechanical squealing and wailing noises while it crushes the boxes inside it. “Uh. Is everything okay?” He asks, delicate.

“It will be eventually,” you say solemnly, but then you look away from the baler and immediately brighten, smiling at him. “Did you need me for something?”

Jungkook looks at you for a second and then shakes his head. “I was just out here to get some more stock from the back room,” he says, and you both get back to work, unaware of the glances you steal at each other as you part.

Later that night—well, technically, morning—you see someone you haven’t seen for a while, and you gasp with excitement when you spot him. “Namjoon!” You holler down the aisle, far too loud and energetic at 5am, jogging up to him. “I thought you stopped morning shifts!”

Namjoon is a beautiful tree of a man, tall and long limbed, and probably the nicest person you’ve ever met. You’ve missed his dimples. “I did, but, I’m doing a bit of overtime,” he says, and you can’t help but smile up at him.

You’re so caught up in your laughter, cackling at a story that Namjoon is telling you, that you don’t notice Jungkook spotting you from the other end of the aisle. He circles around a few times, pretending to be straightening up the shelves, but watches as you shuffle closer to Namjoon, your heads practically knocking against each other as you stare intently at something on his phone. Jungkook can’t bear it any longer and starts to walk over. He has no idea what he’s planning to do once he gets there but he’s marching over anyway, and that's when you spot him.

“Jungkook, Jungkook!” You beckon him over—like he wasn’t coming in your direction already—and you sound so excited. “Jungkook, look, puppies!”

Jungkook has no idea who the tall guy is but he’s nice enough to turn his phone towards Jungkook without being asked to. There are multiple puppies tumbling over each other in the video, nosing at each other and flopping around. “I thought a golden retriever would be good for Jin, because he’s never had a dog before,” the tall man says, and you coo.

“They’re so cute! Oh my God, Joon, you should get one of those little bandanas you could tie around their necks, those are adorable,” you squeal. “Ahh, I love dogs so much. Don’t you, Jungkook?” Your eyes are shining as you look up at him, excited. 

Jungkook feels like he needs to sit down. “Of course. Who doesn’t?” He says, and you beam at him; he has to dig his fingers into his palms at how cute you are. He desperately turns his attention back to the video, where one of the puppies is nosing at a ball. “Look at them retrieve.”

“Retrieve my heart,” you say, clutching your chest. “Ahh, gosh, Joonie, you’re really living the dream, moving in with your hot boyfriend and getting a dog together.” You’re too busy imagining living in that reality to notice how all the tension leaves Jungkook the second he hears that Namjoon has a boyfriend. Oblivious. “Anyway, you should probably get back to work, I’ve distracted you for long enough. Sorry!”

“No problem.” Namjoon quirks a smile at you, nodding at Jungkook before moving away.

“Ahh, Namjoon is so lucky,” you say wistfully. “He’s so nice though, he deserves it.”

Jungkook is looking at you, curious. “You really get to know everyone, don’t you?”

“Huh?” You blink. “What? Yeah, I guess. Is that weird?”

“No.” Jungkook pauses, and you think that’s all he’s going to say on the matter, but then his mouth opens again. “You’re just so nice to everyone, and you actually pay attention to what they say and remember it. Most of the time when people talk, they don’t actually listen, they’re just waiting for when it’s their turn to talk about themselves, but you don’t do that. It’s cool,” he adds, belatedly. “I really admire it.”

You’re staring at him in shock. No one’s ever said anything like that before, complimented you in such a wholehearted way about something they’ve noticed about you. It's thrown you for a loop. You’re so used to thinking of yourself as a clown—a friendly clown, sure, but a clown nonetheless—that you’re genuinely shaken to the core after hearing what Jungkook’s just said about you.

He looks alarmed when you don’t respond, just blinking up at him as your brain desperately tries to reboot, but you’re saved from having to reply when Sejin calls out to you.

“Y/n, the computer at the front desk is playing up again." His hands are cupped around his mouth, amplifying himself so that you can hear him down the aisle. “You’re the only one who knows how to fix it.”

You snap out of your daze. “Again? You’ve tried turning it off and on again, right?” You’re about to walk away from Jungkook, but first you glance up at him, shy. “Um. Thanks for always being so nice, Kookie. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he says. He sounds a little breathless. You don’t have time to ask why, Sejin’s noise of distress catching your attention. 

“I’m coming!” You rush off, nearly tripping on a loose grape on the floor; you manage to regain your balance with minimal flailing, unaware of how Jungkook fondly watches you go.

--

A few weeks later, you get sick. 

You’re really bad at being sick, one of the reasons being that you don’t like to admit that you are sick—and so you still roll into work despite the fact you’re clearly unwell.

“You look like a body that’s just been fished out of the water.” Yoongi shows his concern in an interesting way. “Like you’ve been floating belly up near that trash island in the middle of the ocean that’s the size of Texas.”

You fix him with a baleful stare. He’d threatened to not let you into his car earlier, locking the door as you’d been reaching for the handle; he’d only relented after you’d hissed at him and scrabbled at the glass like some sort of feral cat.

“You do look a bit more tired than usual,” Jungkook says delicately.

You groan. The noise sounds like it’s being ripped out of your throat, which feels as dry as the sahara desert; why are your throat and eyes so dry while your nose keeps running? Why is the liquid in all the wrong places? The human body is a wreck. (After glancing at Jungkook, who looks as perfect as always, you mentally correct yourself—your body is a wreck.)

“I’m fine,” you rasp, and then sniff, trying to stop your nose from dripping. Jungkook hands you a tissue. “I don’t need this, because I’m not sick, but thank you.”

You proceed to blow your nose loudly into the tissue, a trumpeting noise that trails off into a squeak, a sad little thing that sounds like the farting noise a balloon makes when all the air finally escapes it. Yoongi snorts with amusement but Jungkook’s brow is furrowed with concern.

Rather than being disgusted at your appearance—you’re not sick, you’re just suffering from mild allergies or something, so maybe you’ll admit that you look a little washed out—Jungkook has been worried about you from the moment you’d walked in. He’d even offered you his work fleece when he’d caught you shivering, which you’d graciously accepted. (Again, you weren’t shivering because you were sick, it’s just weirdly cold in the store today, even though no one else seems to be affected by it.) (Also, like, hello? The man of your dreams was offering you the chance to wear his clothes? As if you were going to say no to that.)

Despite definitely not being sick, you do sort of feel like your head is full of cotton wool, and everything seems so much louder than usual. Sejin takes pity on you and gives you the surprisingly easy job of counting stock out back in the warehouse, where it’s quieter and warmer—but you still keep Jungkook’s fleece on anyway, breathing in the lovely smell of his fabric softener as you idly count items, taking it slow.

You’ve climbed a stepladder so that you can reach a higher shelf, mentally tallying the cans of coke you find up there; you shuffle through them so you can turn the labels towards you, making sure you’re keeping the different flavours separate. (What’s the difference between diet and zero sugar, anyway? Aren’t they both the same thing?)

“Did I just see a pigeon walk past?”

You startle and nearly knock your row of cans off the shelf. Somehow you hadn’t noticed Jungkook walking into the warehouse, even though he clearly hadn’t meant to surprise you; his hands fly out to steady the stepladder, and though you appreciate this it throws you off balance and so you grab the shelf in front of you. One of the cans falls off, jostled by your movements, and your instinct is to try and catch it with your foot so it at least slows enough before it hits the ground that it doesn’t explode. 

In theory, it’s not a bad idea. In reality, you wildly overestimate how heavy the can is and so you put way too much power into the swing of your leg and punt the can of coke into the distance. The two of you trace its arcing trajectory as it disappears over the metal racking before landing with a distinctly wet clatter. Yeah, it’s definitely exploded, hasn’t it.

“Wasn’t me,” you say immediately, but then your slower-than-normal brain catches up with what Jungkook just said. “Wait, what?”

“I was wondering if you saw a pigeon walking around,” Jungkook says. “I think I saw it walking from the back entrance into here?���

Much to his obvious surprise, your eyes light up. You’re maybe not as exuberant as usual because of your illness but you’re still clearly excited. “Oh!” You hop down off the stepladder, nearly losing your balance for a second—maybe you are a teensy weensy bit sick—but then straighten up before Jungkook can help steady you. “Shortbread’s back!”

Jungkook looks baffled but follows after you when you start to walk, abandoning your stock counts. “Shortbread?”

“Yeah! Hold on, you’re taller than me. You see that bit of metal that juts out of the ceiling there?”

Jungkook looks at where you’re pointing. It’s against the back wall of the warehouse, the ceiling lower here than in the rest of the room, panelling and wires supported by criss-crossing bars of thick blue metal. “Yeah?”

“Can you reach up there and feel around a bit?” Jungkook makes a face, clearly not wanting to shove his hand into some mysterious hidden nook, but you look up at him with the best puppy dog eyes you can muster. You probably look like a wreck (what with how sick you are) but Jungkook relents immediately anyway; you think it's because he's nice and not because your attempt at being cute had been successful. He cranes upwards and feels around with his hand until it makes contact with crinkly plastic, and you motion for him to grab it—it’s an open pack of biscuits, with a receipt wedged inside that has your name scribbled on it.

“Gimme, gimme.” You make grabby hands at him. He tilts it towards you and you latch onto a biscuit, which is clearly stale; it crumbles almost immediately in your hands but you don’t pay it any mind, gesturing for him to put the tray back in its hiding place. “Where did you see the pigeon last?”

“Uh, near the soup, I think,” Jungkook answers. You immediately head in that direction, talking over your shoulder as he follows after you.

“You’ve seen that fishing net near the cardboard baler, right?” Your eyes flit to and fro, trying to spot the errant pigeon.

“Yeah, the green one? I was wondering why that was there.”

You click your tongue. “A few months ago we had a pigeon who kept flying here and wandering into the building,” you explain. “We knew it was the same pigeon because it has a tag around its leg? I think it’s a tracker pigeon, I don’t know. So I would use biscuits to get it to follow me outside. But then management got the net and someone said they caught it and, uh, ‘disposed’ of it.” You look equal parts distressed and sad and Jungkook’s chest twinges. “I haven’t seen it since, so even though I hoped that it wasn't the truth, I kind of accepted that it probably was.”

You round the corner past soups, heading towards the cereal overstock, when you both spot the pigeon. It’s slowly walking backwards and forwards on the floor, but when you appear, it stops and looks at you.

“Shortbread! It is you!” You sound absolutely elated, squatting down and proffering the mess of crumbs in your hand, sprinkling them in front of you. “I knew they hadn’t caught you!”

The pigeon—Shortbread—hops forward immediately, heading straight for the crumbs. You laugh in delight as it gets closer and starts to peck at the food. “You’ve gotta stop coming here, bud, Sejin’s going to get really mad if he spots you,” you say. Shortbread, of course, ignores you, more intent on eating the crumbs of—well, the crumbs of shortbread that you’ve given it. You look away from the pigeon, up at Jungkook, who’s watching you with an expression on his face that you can only describe as consternation. Does he dislike pigeons, maybe? “Do you want to feed him?”

“Doyouwanttogetcoffeewithme?” Jungkook blurts. The remaining crumbs of biscuit fall out of your hand, scattering into a wild constellation of fragments that Shortbread immediately swoops down onto—but you’re not paying the bird any mind, completely blindsided.

“Uh. What?” You stare up at Jungkook. Your mouth is open and slack with surprise; you hadn’t quite caught his words, but you could have sworn that he said— “Come again?”

Jungkook’s put a hand over his face, which is starting to turn red. “Do you—do you want to get coffee with me?” Even though he’s turned his head away from you, his eyes are pointed in your direction; Shortbread makes a cooing noise and starts to peck at the crumbs directly in front of you, but neither of you pay the pigeon any attention.

“Uh.” You know your brain is running on around 25% capacity right now, a mixture of your sickness and lack of sleep catching up with you, but you could swear that—what does Jungkook mean—nah, he doesn’t mean that, no way… haha… unless…? “You… want to get coffee? You know where we keep the jar.” Shortbread pecks at your open palm, a few crumbs still stuck to your skin. You’re momentarily distracted from your mental breakdown, giggling at the sensation of the pigeon’s beak, even though it hurts your throat to laugh. “Shortbread, there’s way more food on the floor, why are you trying to eat from my hand?”

“Y/n.” When Jungkook says your name your eyes snap back towards him. “Can I take you out on a date?”

This time you do catch all his words. Your mouth falls open again and you stare at him like the dumbass you are. Is Jeon Jungkook—your cute, kind, buff angel seriously asking you out? Right now? When you're squatting on a dusty warehouse floor with a handful of stale biscuit crumbs, wearing the world’s least flattering uniform, all while looking like some sort of washed out river corpse? (Thanks for that lovely comparison, Yoongi.) Has he lost his mind? Maybe lifting all those heavy crates meant that all the blood has run into his arm muscles rather than his brain and it's been starved of oxygen, because there’s no sane reason as to why Jungkook would be asking you out on a date.

“Me? A date?” Your voice comes out as a squeak. “With you?”

Jungkook looks absolutely mortified. You didn’t realise someone’s cheeks could go that red. “Forget I said anything,” he says, turning on his heel so that he can walk away; you catch a glimpse of bright crimson climbing up the back of his neck and the tips of his ears, too.

“No, wait, Jungkook!” You snap up from your squatting position and grab Jungkook’s shoulder, smearing crumbs onto his shirt. You feel light headed as he starts to turn around, but not because he’s looking at you—you’d stood up too quickly and you feel woozy from your illness, swaying off balance. 

You nearly careen sideways into some cereal overstock. Jungkook’s eyes fly wide open in alarm, interposing himself so that you land against him instead. There’s the sound of metal clattering as your weight sends Jungkook into the cereal, rattling the cage, but he holds you steady. You still feel a bit faint, but now you’re sure that it’s partially due to the fact that you’re crushed up against Jungkook’s warm, firm chest, his hands on your hips as he frowns down at you.

“Are you alright?” 

“Never better,” you mumble into the fabric of his polo shirt. (Jungkook's at risk of you snotting on him if your nose starts to run, but he doesn’t seem to care.) He smells even better up close than you ever could have imagined—thank god your sense of smell is still intact—and you melt against him for a second before your brain catches up with the situation and your head snaps back so that you can look at him. “Wait. Why were you about to leave?”

Jungkook’s look of concern turns instantaneously into one of embarrassment. “No reason,” he says, voice higher than normal, clearly uncomfortable.

You clench your fist and hit his firm chest, but with no strength behind the punch; your hand may as well have been a slice of bread for all the impact it makes. “Liar.” There’s no heat behind your words. “Did you seriously ask me on a date?”

Jungkook’s face is reddening again, but you’re still leaning against him. He can’t try to escape this time. “Uh. Yes?” From this close you can count his individual eyelashes, pick out the moles that dot his face, and, yep, you were right, he’s even better up close. “I’m sorry?”

You blink. “Sorry? For asking me out? Jungkook. Do you seriously think I’d say no?”

“... yes?” Jungkook’s voice is a squeak, much like yours had been a moment earlier. Holy shit. Does he not realise how amazing and hot he is? Does he seriously think that you, resident clown, would turn him down? Does he think you’re the one who’s out of his league?

You try to put this into words. Try to ask him this gently, so you can highlight just how ridiculous he’s being. However, what comes out of your mouth is: “Are you an idiot?” Thanks, brain, for once again abandoning you in your greatest time of need. Quick, reel it back. “Why would you think that?”

Jungkook, to your eternal gratitude, doesn’t seem offended at your implication that he’s stupid. He just seems flustered. “I—you’re just so unapologetically you, you know?” He says. "You're charismatic and confident and everyone likes you. You’re the most popular person on night shift. I’m too shy to talk to anyone and I just do the same thing every night I’m here, but you can do everything. I always saw you talking to the other morning workers and you were always so nice, but you never spoke to me? When you introduced yourself to me after I moved to nights, I was confused, but, uh, really happy.”

Holy shit. He really does think that you’re out of his league. He looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up after this little speech, mouth snapping shut while his cheeks continue to blaze red. He's so cute. He's going to be the death of you.

“Jungkook. I didn’t talk to you before night shift because you made me so fucking nervous,” you say. “I could barely look at you for weeks because you’re so beautiful that it kind of makes me want to barf sometimes and I couldn’t handle it. But then you moved to nights and I couldn’t avoid talking to you, and I found out how kind and hardworking and interesting you are, and—Jungkook, I don’t think I’ve ever crushed this hard on anyone in my life.” Why are you telling him all this? You must be more sick than you realise. Your mouth is entirely out of your control. “I get so excited for work now because it means I get to see you. Yoongi and Jimin have been listening to me gush about you for months. And Hobi too, but you don't know him. But I didn’t think you’d ever like me back so I didn’t say anything,” you admit, and the tiny part of your brain that’s still functional shoots a prayer off to God, or anyone else who’s listening, begging to be struck down by lightning. No such luck. “Uh. Basically, yes, Jungkook, I would love to go on a date with you, please excuse my rambling, my brain feels like it’s full of cotton.”

Jungkook’s eyes are wide. He’s staring at you like he can’t believe anything you’re saying. You abruptly realise that the two of you are still wrapped around each other in a very compromising position, in an area of the building where anyone could appear at any moment—not to mention that Shortbread is still fluttering around nearby, eating up crumbs with typical pigeon inefficiency.

“You—you think I’m beautiful?” Jungkook asks, and you blush.

“I think you’re the hottest person who’s ever existed, probably,” you answer honestly. “Please don’t ask more questions, I start to feel queasy whenever I have to express real emotion.”

“Y/n.” Jungkook seems to be rapidly getting over his shock, and a smile starts curling at his lips, and—yeah, you still wanna lick his teeth. Good to know. “I couldn’t possibly be the hottest person who’s ever existed.”

You snort, even though the action grates the back of your nose and throat. “Where’s your evidence?”

Jungkook gently squeezes you. “Right here,” he says. 

Your brain desperately scrabbles for purchase in reality, shutting down and then rebooting, internet modem sounds crackling slowly in your head as you try to get to grips with the fact that Jungkook just did that, even though the motion was meant to be tender. Why must your mind be so dirty? 

Wait. 

Wait, he thinks you’re hot?

“Jungkook, I look like death,” you say, and although you’re ostensibly referring to the fact you’re sick right now (fine, you’ll admit it, you’re sick), it’s more of a general statement.

“You’re gorgeous,” Jungkook says, deadly serious. Your heart flutters. What did you do to deserve this boy?

You’ve still got your faces tilted towards each other, and you can’t help but notice Jungkook’s eyes darting down to your lips. You’ve just started to inch closer to each other when your brain finally snaps back to full capacity and you’re shoving your hand in Jungkook’s face; the clean one, thankfully, not the one covered with biscuit crumbs. Seems like your brain came through.

“I don’t want our first kiss to be in the warehouse at work, when I’m sick,” you say. While that’s true, your heart is pounding in your chest at the idea that Jungkook apparently still wants to kiss you despite the fact you definitely need to blow your nose.

“Okay.” Jungkook’s voice is muffled against your palm. “That’s fair. Can you move your hand? It’s kind of hard to breathe like this.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” You pull your hand away, and Jungkook takes in a deep breath; you feel how his chest expands and you’re once again reminded of how you’re flush against him. Jesus. “Uh, we should probably get Shortbread out of here before someone catches him.”

Jungkook lets you go so you can coax Shortbread towards one of the fire exits. He holds the door open as you squat down, wishing the pigeon good luck before you say goodbye; when you glance back up at Jungkook you notice the look on his face, open and fond, and your heart does a loop de loop in your chest when you realise that he's been looking at you like this a lot—your brain had just refused to let you notice it for what it is. What the heck.

As Jungkook lets the door shut behind you, you clear your throat. “Um. While I do absolutely want to get coffee with you, can it wait until I’m better? I don’t wanna be all crusty and snotty on our first date,” you say, weirdly shy despite the fact it’s obvious that Jungkook seems to think that you hung the moon. (Which you still don’t understand but you’re not complaining, not at all.)

“Sure.” Jungkook smiles and your heart flip flops in your chest again. The feats of acrobatics your heart achieves when Jungkook around is honestly astounding, but everything he does is just so… adorable. You’re certain that when you see him out of his work uniform and in his regular clothes you’re going to spontaneously combust, but you’ll cross that bridge when you come to it. “I should probably get back to fruit and veg, but, I’ll see you for lunch?”

“Yeah.” You smile helplessly back at him. “Of course. See you at lunch.”

Despite the fact you’re worried about getting him sick, Jungkook really doesn’t care about keeping his distance. When Yoongi walks into the canteen to the sight of you snuggled up to Jungkook and giggling as you feed him his lunch, your friend just rolls his eyes. “Kids these days,” he says, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“You’re just jealous that it’s taken me and Jungkook less time to confess to each other than it’s taken you with Jimin,” you say, and then gasp as you remember something. “Oh, Jungkook, that reminds me! What was that long conversation you were having with Jimin the other week?”

Jungkook flushes. “Uh, he was giving me advice on how to ask you out,” he admits sheepishly. “I wasn’t planning on just blurting it out in the warehouse, but you were being so cute that I couldn’t stop myself?”

You stare into Jungkook’s eyes for a few long moments, before solemnly saying: “Jeon Jungkook, if I wasn’t sick, I would absolutely be kissing you right now.”

“Ugh, please don’t,” Yoongi says. Jungkook buries his head into the material of his work fleece, hiding his embarrassment against your shoulder, and you just laugh.

[tenthgrove]

Hello! Can I request La Squadra with a new teammate that's a reptile enthusiast? Talks constantly about reptiles, keeps turtles, tortoises, lizards, snakes, etc. as pets. Probably keeps 2 huge ball pythons named Linguine and Fettucine, and teammate constantly walks around the base with one or both loosely wrapped around their arms or neck.

La Squadra with a Reptile Enthusiast

La Squadra x Reader, Platonic/Romantic (Interpretable), SFW

Formaggio- He finds reptiles totally neat, and he loves that you’ve brought them here. The snakes are his favourite, because he’s fascinated with how they eat and is morbidly intrigued about whether they could ingest a human. Secretly, he sometimes hopes for an intruder to break in so he could put that theory to the test. (You tell him that Ball Pythons aren’t actually dangerous to humans and he’s very disappointed). Just… please… whatever you do, don’t leave the snakes around his cats. Even if it’s mostly irrational he does worry about them sometimes.

Illuso- Likes the fact that, unlike with Formaggio’s cats, he can hold your pets without getting fur all over his precious clothes. He thinks your pets make him look cool and likes them for the aesthetic, so you’ll be surprised how amicable the usually standoffish man is to your reptiles. He names half of them himself before he realises you’ve already got names for them, and continues to get mixed up between your names and his own.

Prosciutto- When you first move in, Prosciutto hates the fact you had to bring all your pets with you. You waste so much of your time dealing with them, and surely it’s making you less efficient as an assassin. Prosciutto is hardly a fan of the wriggly things themselves either. What changes things is simple exposure. Prosciutto can only be mad about something for so long. He particularly comes to tolerate your turtles- they’re very well-behaved creatures and the rest of your squad could really learn from them.

Pesci- Is kind of terrified at first because he’s heard that snakes are dangerous, but once he’s assured that nothing you own is dangerous to anyone over the age of 1, he calms down. Reptiles are strange to him because he’s never really seen many in person, but he’ll watch them curiously to observe how they move. Sometimes he’ll touch them nervously before stumbling back again. He might be shy at first, but it doesn’t take Pesci long to come around. He’s also more than happy to hear you talk about your pets, since the chance to talk about anything that isn’t murder is a relief to him.

Melone- Don’t ask him why, but snakes give Melone a bad case of Déjà vu. It’s almost like a memory from another universe… Anyway, Melone is definitely the sort to have an affinity for unconventional pets, so he loves all your little scale babies unconditionally. You’ll often catch him giving the turtles a little kiss on their noses. He really can’t help himself on that front. The second you move in, Melone is researching everything about reptile care since things like that really fascinate him, so he’ll be a surprisingly good choice for babysitting your pets when you’re away.

Ghiaccio- Very much prefers reptiles to pets like dogs, cats or birds since there’s less chance of sudden loud noises which knaw at Ghiaccio’s sensory issues. He’s very surprised when he finds out how many you own, and that surprise might come off as judgement, but really, he doesn’t mind at all. His favourites are the lizards. He likes to feed them just to watch them. He loves the way their little eyes roll.

Risotto- Your capo can certainly admire your guts in keeping such creatures, as well as the effort you put into caring for them. He has a particular bond with your pythons, and one day you walked in on him lying down next to them like a child and petting their scales. He got up in a start and nothing more was said of it, but you know what you saw. Nobody else knows how he manages not to flinch whenever one of them slivers off your shoulder and onto his. Risotto simply smiles, and gives the python a little scratch on it’s forehead before resuming whatever he was doing. He’ll even do his office work like that. TLDR, Linguine and Fettucine are Risotto’s daughters now and you’ll just have to live with that fact.

Sorbet and Gelato- Gelato has a confession to make, he really likes reptiles too. He just loves their goofy little faces and the texture of their skin. His favourites are lizards because he loves their little zoomies. Sorbet, though not as entrenched as Gelato, also has an affinity for the creatures. They are quieter than most pets, which he can certainly approve of. It also helps that he’s one of the few bitches in this house with any semblance of executive function, so he’s probably your best bet for taking on cleaning duties when you’re away on a mission. Just… do prepare yourself. You may come home to find the eccentric couple feeding your pets… well, human meat. They just wanted to know what would happen.

[bytheangell]

Just off the Key of Reason

( @shadowhunterbingo​ square: Fuck or Die) (Content warnings: Dubious Consent, Sex Pollen drug, Frottage) (Read on AO3)

Jace hates that he’s at the Bone Chandelier to play along with Jonathan’s demands, because this is exactly the sort of place he would thrive in under any other circumstance.

As it is, under the circumstance of being here to babysit his girlfriend who is connected to her estranged brother by a corrupted rune, Jace has to admit that he can’t properly enjoy the music or the atmosphere of the club in general. He wants to. He pretends to, if only to keep up appearances that he really, truly wants to be here so that Jonathan doesn’t grow suspicious, but he can’t relax enough to let his guard down while so much is at stake.

Not willingly, at least. Part of keeping up appearances means following Jonathan’s lead as the ceiling begins to rain drops of what Jace knows is some sort of Fae magic, though what sort of Fae magic he couldn’t begin to guess. A drug of some sort, recreational most likely, judging by the enthusiastic turn of heads upward to catch a drop from many of the dancers around them.

“Drink up,” Jonathan says, and Jace knows it isn’t a request.

The effect is immediate. Everything in Jace relaxes, every tension gone from his muscles, every worry gone from his mind. He wants to dance. He wants to touch. He wants to kiss, and move, and feel, and fuck, freely and without reservation.

Jace doesn’t realize that he’s having these thoughts while staring intently at Jonathan until Jonathan raises an eyebrow with a smirk on his face.

There’s a moment when Jace tries to fight it, to deny the effects of whatever it is he just ingested, but all the willpower he has is no match for the speed the drug takes hold, wiping out his better judgment and inhibitions.

Jace stumbles a bit through the dance floor, moving from person to person, never dancing with anyone for more than a few seconds. No one feels right. He knows on some level that he could take care of the growing itch he feels with anyone and it would be fine, it would be enough… but it wouldn’t be right.

Clary. He should find Clary. She’s his girlfriend, she--

Suddenly, arms snake around him, spinning him so that his back is to the wall and he’s being pressed against it, boxed in by strong arms and eye-to-eye with Jonathan.

“It’s only going to get worse the longer you prolong it,” Jonathan says.

Jace knows what he’s talking about, but asks anyway, playing dumb. “What will?”

“And if you don’t satisfy the urge, it’ll probably kill you. I wouldn’t know for sure, never met anyone who held out long enough,” Jonathan pauses thoughtfully. “Never met anyone who wanted to.”

Jonathan is close. Not close enough, Jace’s mind supplies, and that’s when he knows that this is what he was waiting for. Or rather, who he was waiting for.

Jace tries to move forward, but before he can shift so much as an inch Jonathan moves first, pressing Jace flush against the wall. Jace lets out an undignified moan at the full-body contact, unable to move much but still arching his body into Jonathan’s as much as he can.

“Clary-” Jace tries to protest, the name sounding weak on his lips. It’s something he’s expected to say, not something he wants to say. He doesn’t want to say anything, in fact, only to move and kiss and touch and fuck. By the angel, he needs to get off, and soon. He feels the need build in him like a fire burning out of control and spreading faster than he could ever hope to contain.

“-told me to take care of you,” Jonathan finishes for him, nodding his head back. Jace’s gaze follows the direction, spotting Clary across the club watching them intently. She gives Jace a wink, not breaking eye contact, her smile never wavering.

That’s it -Jace’s last excuse to not give in to everything his body screams at him to do is gone with a single wink.

This time Jace doesn’t try to move his body, only his head. He cranes his neck forward to catch Jonathan’s lips in a kiss. There’s nothing slow or gentle about it - their embrace is searing from the first second they touch. Jace manages to move his arms just enough to pull Jonathan closer, if that’s even possible at this point. It doesn’t feel possible, not with both of them rutting against each other, bodies connecting from ankles to lips.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” Jonathan says between rough, claiming kisses that Jace knows will bruise around his lips and down his neck. Jonathan’s voice is low, nearly a snarl as he brings his lips up to brush against Jace’s ear with the words before nibbling on his earlobe.

Jace feels a shiver run down his entire body. He does nothing to suppress it, nothing to hide how affected he is simply by the sound of Jonathan’s voice, by the want and desire he hears there.

Jonathan brings a hand down from the wall to slide up Jace’s thigh and across the line of his belt, trailing down the buttons and zipper and-

“Look at you,” Jonathan preens. “Already hard for me.”

It’s true. Jace can feel the friction of his cock against the inside of his too-tight black jeans.

“I bet I could make you come without even taking these off,” Jonathan continues, pressing his hand against Jace’s bulge. It’s too much and not enough at the same time and Jace shifts his head to catch Jonathan’s lips in his own again, groaning into the kiss.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To come in your pants like some desperate, horny teenager?” Jonathan asks, but Jace hopes the question is rhetorical and the answer obvious from the way Jace’s body reacts to Jonathan’s every word, his every touch. Jace is dimly aware that Jonathan is doing all the talking but he can’t bring himself to speak. How can he be expected to focus on words at a time like this?

“Is that what you want me to do?” Jonathan says, clearly not put off by Jace’s silence. And why should he be with Jace being so physically responsive? Jonathan presses harder against Jace, grinding against him with more force than before. “I need an answer, darling, or I’ll stop right now. Yes or no?”

Jace nods so emphatically he thinks he feels a muscle pull in the back of his neck. He isn’t sure if the nod will be enough, but it seems to satisfy Jonathan’s momentary hesitation because a moment later Jace feels hands coming up to rest on either side of his face before Jonathan sucks his lower lip into his mouth, alternating between kissing and sucking and biting in a way that drives Jace nearly mad with desire. For every agonizingly wonderful second of it Jonathan keeps their hips pressed together, keeping Jace pressed back against the wall before finally allowing Jace the ability to shift his weight.

The moment he can move freely Jace grinds up against Jonathan as they kiss and bite and touch. It feels like hours, like days that they’ve been at this, even though Jace knows in some rational corner of his mind that it hasn’t been more than a handful of minutes they’ve spent lost in this dark corner of the club.

“Now, my angel: I need you to be a good boy and come for me, just like this.”

Jonathan slows to punctuate each of the last three words with a sharp, upward thrust, a beautifully abrasive slide of bulging jean against bulging jean. After the third thrust Jace feels Jonathan’s tongue lick across his collarbone just before Jonathan’s teeth bite down hard over the skin and bone there.

It’s all Jace needs. Jace thinks it may be all he’s ever needed. The mixture of rumbling bass in Jonathan’s demand, the sting of the bite, and the pressure of Jonathan’s body against his forms the perfect cocktail of pleasure that sends Jace tumbling over the edge.

“Fuck,” Jace barely manages to rasp out the single word.

“So you can speak,” Jonathan says, smirking.

“Shut up,” Jace mutters.

“Make me,” Jonathan challenges.

Jace is about to, a million things in mind that he could do to occupy Jonathan’s mouth, but it’s at that moment the Seelie Knights walk directly into their line of sight across the room with the Queen trailing behind them.

“Duty calls,” Jonathan sighs, bringing out his stele to trace his own iratze before activating Jace’s. Across the room, Jace watches Clary do the same. “Maybe next time, Herondale.”

Jace tries to convince himself there won’t be another time - that this was a one-time lapse in judgment brought on entirely by the Seelie drug in his system - but he knows deep down that isn’t true. He feels the effects of the drug fading, but his desire remains. In fact, with every determined step Jonathan takes away from Jace, Jace’s desire grows.

He knows this is going to be a problem, but unfortunately, he has more pressing problems to deal with.

“Next time…” Jace echoes quietly, the words lost under the sound of the club as he trails after Jonathan.

[ateezmakemeweep]

richboy!yeosang (part 1)

word count: 5k

fluff, smut

(miniseries masterlist)

“if you don’t know the cranial nerves by now pretty boy, you might as well drop out.”

“fuck you! maybe my tutor just sucks and is the world’s biggest asshole!”

“maybe you’re the world’s biggest idiot and just wasting his time.”

“maybe he’s not teaching me properly because he’s an arrogant son of a bitch.”

“maybe you’re too distracted by your fiancé that you can’t even-”

a tray being slammed down on the table halts the boy’s incessant bickering, your harsh look staring between their two bodies making them point at each other immediately. 

“don’t look at me like that, y/n. he started it this time! dickhead told me i should just drop out!” 

“pretty boy said i’m the biggest asshole ever, baby. i think i should be the one who’s more-”

“just shut up! both of you!” you beg, plopping down in your seat next to your boyfriend and rubbing at your temples. “we’ve only been back for three weeks and you two are already like this. how could you possibly be this stressed and annoyed at each other already?”

yeosang looks at you with a smirk on his face but softness in his eyes, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he pulls you close to him. 

his lips brush against your skin as they leave a chaste kiss on your temple; he’s seen you rub at your head like this far too many times during him and mingi’s tutoring sessions throughout the years.

“sorry, but i’m just trying to help him, love,” yeosang mumbles in your ear, suppressing a sigh when you feel his signature smirk against your skin. “poor guy’s in his third year of college and doesn’t know the cranial nerves.”

“i don’t know the cranial nerves. should i drop out too?” you quip, ripping yourself away from him and raising an eyebrow. 

but the boy doesn’t miss a beat, sending you a smile that still sends your stomach fluttering despite his unpleasant behavior.

“please. i’ve wanted nothing more than to support you this whole time.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth at the disgusted sneer that crosses your face, the familiar dinging of the coffee shop door welcoming none other than yunho as his eyes roam the store.

mingi’s eyes light up immediately upon seeing the boy, a bright smile on his face that makes you bite back one of your own. yunho finally spots you three and looks at mingi with the same amount of happiness in his eyes, ruffling his now black hair and placing a peck on his cheek when he arrives at the table. 

there’d been a lot of changes within the past three years, all of you moving to a different city and getting used to the changed pace of life. it was more chaotic and busy, for sure, with a lot more responsibilities than your teenage selves had had. 

but almost every moment of it has been fun. 

even through the cram sessions and disastrous drunken nights and fighting between mingi and yeosang, it’s been fun. exploring the city and meeting new people and doing everything you’re supposed to do when you’re young and carefree and finding yourself. 

you remember college had seemed terrifying for all of you back on the beach during senior year, when you hadn’t even told your parents about yeosang or going away to school and things were still up in there for mingi and yunho.

but it ended up being the best decision of your life. living and going to school with yeosang who, at one point, you convinced yourself you hated more than anyone on this earth. 

you were surprised, really, by how stable your relationship was despite the obvious rocky start. your mean, high school bully turned college boyfriend who you had a seemingly perfect relationship with. 

and freshmen year had been hard, you admit. getting used to sharing a space and living together and putting up with each other’s annoying habits. but really, after those first few weeks, the years following had been nothing but bliss. 

days full of studying and tests and internships that left you both beyond exhausted and ready to go home. 

it was the best feeling in the world to be able to go home to someone you loved and wanted to see, yeosang more often than not surprising you with dinner set on the coffee table and a movie paused on the tv. 

he had somewhat tricked you into getting your current apartment, a view far too nice and rooms far too big for just the two of you - but you couldn’t even pretend to be mad on nights when you’d lean on his shoulder and just look out the window at the city lights.

you were both now in your third year of college, only a few weeks into the first semester, which is what’s really making mingi and yeosang’s bickering already that much more concerning. 

usually it’d take until studying for midterms or finals for the boys to get like this. 

“what happened?” yunho’s sweet, calming voice asks, his eyes shifting from mingi to you with an obvious sense of compassion. you can only stare at the boy with a pained expression, mingi and yeosang talking and cursing over each other in the (luckily) empty coffee shop. 

you have to bite back a smile at the obvious change in mingi’s demeanor now, his eyes wide and deep voice softening that makes yeosang scoff in disgust. 

“oh get the fuck out of here. what happened to the mingi in high school who tried to crack my head open?” yeosang asks, taking his coffee off the tray and bringing it closer to himself. “now you’ve turned into a domesticated little bitch.”

“that’s what happens when you ask someone to marry them,” mingi bites back, yunho’s arm tightening on his shoulder so he doesn’t jump over the table. “but you wouldn’t know anything about that, now would you pussy boy? y/n’s gonna have to wait till she’s 50 and you finally grow a pair.”

“that’s funny, since you only asked yunho because you were shitfaced and he’s too damn nice to-”

“shut up!” 

your squeal cuts your boyfriend off immediately, a smirk on the other boy’s faces as they watch him get reprimanded. holding back their laughter and giggles as you threaten to never ever attend another study session with both of them again.

even though what yeosang was saying did hold some truth to it. 

mingi and yunho knew pretty much from the moment they met that they were gonna be together forever, something innate and deep within their souls just connected and meant to be. 

but it was after one too many shots for a lightweight mingi that he popped the question to the boy, all of you out one night and thinking it was just mingi being mingi who always went on about his feelings for yunho.

but you and yeosang nearly fell on your asses when you saw him reaching in his pocket for the ring, the boy saying that he saw it a few weeks ago and just felt the overwhelmingly need to buy it. 

it was cute and spontaneous and authentic in the sense that, even after all the alcohol mingi had ingested that night, it’s like yunho saying yes completely sobered him. 

though you all joke today that the now dark-haired boy only said yes because he felt bad for his drunken boyfriend’s proposal. 

“you know he felt bad for him,” yeosang says, his hand in yours as you guys walk back to your apartment. 

it’s only a four block walk, and a much needed one, after you and yunho couldn’t take the bickering any longer. 

you simply grabbed yeosang by the hand after they started up again ten minutes later and led him out of the coffee shop, your neck snapping back at mingi with squinted eyes when you heard him try to egg the boy on one last time. 

“i also know that they were gonna get married anyway,” you say, craning your neck to look over at your boyfriend challengingly. “so what does it really matter?”

he stops in the middle of the sidewalk to smile down at you, his hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. there’s mirth in his eyes at your prickliness, biting down on his lip so he doesn’t ask if you need to be relieved some way in public. 

“what about us?” he mumbles, snaking his hands down your body to grasp your hand. “we’re gonna get married too, right?” 

you narrow your eyes at his teasing, tightening your hold on his hand just a little too tightly in a way that makes him wince. 

“baby, why are you so mad today?” yeosang whines as you walk into the building, greeting the doorman with a smile as you charge toward the elevator. 

the apartment building is just as ritzy as your home, tall glass windows and marble floors and the magnificent chandeliers you’ve come to learn are something the rich just love; you knew the moment you saw three hanging above the front desk that this was way out of your price range. 

but you’d grown used to the lifestyle and you’ve grown close with the doorman, a sweet older gentlemen who worked there since the early 90s. he’s kept an eye on you and yeosang throughout the years and can tell, right about now, you’ve had enough of him. 

he sends a smirk your way and you give him a knowing look, hearing his chuckle ring throughout the lobby.

“why am i mad? why am i mad?” you repeat, the splitting headache and irritation radiating off of you from hours of grown men bickering back and forth. you click on the elevator button repeatedly, yeosang holding back a smirk at your aggressiveness. 

“maybe i’m mad because, gee, i don’t know, you and mingi are like children and never stop fighting. or maybe because even though i’m supposed to finish work for my class tomorrow, i have a splitting headache and wasn’t able to get anything done.”

the elevator doors open and you step in as the words keep pouring from you, yeosang just watching as your mouth continues to move. he’s grateful you two are the only ones in here right now, solely for the purpose of saving other people from hearing this rant.

not because right now would be the perfect moment to relax you. catch up on old times and and techniques to shut you up the way he did the last time you two were fighting in an elevator. 

“and now you’re not even listening to me! i just don’t know why you have to constantly fight with him. it’s only the third week back, yeosang, and you’re already-”

your back hits the wall before you can even get the next words out, eyes flaring as you watch yeosang’s hand grip your chin. his hold is firm but gentle, the teasing that was once behind his eyes slowly transforming to something darker. 

more lustful and dominating and intense. 

“can you just shut up already,” he mumbles lowly, connecting your lips before you can even get a response out.

and similar to all the times you kiss, you can’t find it in yourself to push him away or not kiss back. instead, you find that the kiss ignites something in you, a passion and intensity as your hands move to curl through his hair. 

he grunts against your mouth when you pull at the strands of dark hair just a little too roughly, not being able to help the smirk on your face. he grips your hips harshly in return, pushing you back harder into the wall before he pulls back and stares down at you. 

his gaze is unwavering and harsh and you’re feeling something twinge in your lower stomach. 

“is this what all your frustrations have been about today?” he mumbles in your ear, his hand ghosting the top of your jeans but refusing to dip in the waistband. “is it because i left you hanging this morning?” 

the smirk against your skin makes you wanna scream almost more than he did this morning, edging you nonstop with his tongue and fingers for the sole purpose that he just wanted to keep you in bed all day and hear your moans of his name.

but then mingi’s fist pounding on the door 15 minutes early broke you two apart, his mouth wet and eyes hazy as he told you you guys would have to finish later. 

“need i remind you those sessions were your idea,” he says, his hand ghosting between your legs and over your jeans. he smirks again when he feels heat radiating from you, chuckling in a way that makes you bite back a growled comment of your own. 

“i was more than happy to eat your pussy all morning before fucking you like a good girl,” he says lowly in your ear, leaning his body into yours. 

you whimper when you feel his hard cock press against you, his words and his voice and everything about him right now quickly making your mind cloud with lust. 

“but you insisted i help him because he’s your best friend and i’ve helped him before. but now you’re the one mad at me?” he hums, a harsh sting on your scalp as he suddenly grips your hair and pulls your head back. “how’s that fair, baby?”

your chest is heaving and breaths are shaky, resisting the urge so badly to either curse him out or fall to your knees; luckily, you compose yourself and don’t do either. 

“it’s not,” you whine, the submissive part he always brings out in you breaking through. 

“i know it’s not,” he says, his eyes moving to the wall to see you’re only a few stops away from your floor. “that’s why when we get home, i’m gonna fuck your pretty mouth. do you understand me?” 

you only stare at him with wide, glossy eyes before you see his jaw tick. his fingers suddenly push into your mouth, the warm wetness making his cock twitch in his pants as you have to suppress your own moan.

“i said do you understand me?” 

“y-yes,” you mutter around his fingers, faintly hearing the ding of the elevator before he’s off your body and walking through the doors. 

the second you’re both inside the apartment, he’s against the door and your on your knees shoving down his pants and taking him in your mouth. you look up at him as you swirl your tongue around the tip playfully, slapping his cock against your mouth before he growls at you to stop playing. 

and when you don’t, just give gentle little sucks that you know are gonna bring him over the edge, he slams into your mouth causing you to gag around him. 

“i told you to stop fucking playing.” 

you wanna smirk at the deep growl in his voice but you can’t as his hips pick up speed and he starts fucking your mouth. 

he’s always the one that seems more composed, a wise ass, teasing boyfriend in public who just lives to get under his girlfriend’s skin - but the second you’re alone, that composure is gone. within a split second, his eyes change and you’re more often than not at his mercy all night. 

he’s so lost in the way your mouth feels around him, warm and wet and your tiny moans vibrating against him, that he doesn’t realize you’re mumbling words until you squeeze his thigh.

his eyes immediately flash with concern, pulling himself from your mouth when he spots your glassy ones. he bends down to meet your gaze, framing your face in his hands as he wipes at your wet, spit-covered mouth.

“you good?” 

your heart softens at how fast he’s able to come out of it, switch from hard to gentle in a matter of seconds when he thinks you’re in pain or not enjoying it. but you’re enjoying it a lot, if the growing ache between your legs isn’t evident of that. 

“yes,” you whine, pulling him up before you lead him over to the couch and push him down. his shirt’s the only thing on as he leans back against the couch, his eyes hazy and lustful as they wrack over your body. 

“i...wanted to ride you,” you tell him quietly, stripping off your pants and soaked thong as he watches you carefully. “didn’t want you to come in my mouth.”

your stomach flutters at the smirk that crosses his mouth, his cock hard and waiting to be relieved as he leans back and you stand before him. his tongue daps at his mouth as you stand there on shaky legs, his hand reaching out to pull you into him. 

you fall on his lap with a squeal before he cups your face, squeezing your cheeks together so your lips jut out. 

“well are you just gonna stand there like an idiot?” he mumbles lowly in your ear, his finger sliding in you. he wants to groan at how wet and ready you are, sticking another one as he teasingly moves his fingers inside of you. 

“or am i’m gonna get to fill this pretty pussy?” 

he feels you clench around his fingers and it’s all he needs to remove them, throwing his head back to rest on the couch when you finally sink down on him. you immediately moan at the feeling of him in you, moving your hips against him desperately. 

you think of how bothered he left you this morning, ripping orgasm after orgasm away from you for the sole purpose of him loving how pathetic you sounded. how teasing he was all the day, aggravating the shit out of you with his arguing and lingering hands. 

how he’d put his hand on your thigh or knee with little regard for how frustrated you were growing throughout the day.

“should’ve known this is what you wanted,” yeosang growls lowly, his hands on your hips as a way to guide your bouncing. “you finally feel good now baby? getting off on my cock?” 

words can’t even leave your mouth because of how overwhelmed you are, face falling in the crook of his neck as you whine into his skin. he feels himself close to coming so he snakes his hand between your bodies, circling your clit a few times before a loud moan leaves your mouth. 

he comes just a few seconds after you, his hot release shooting inside of you and making you whine a little bit more. you can feel his cock pulsing around you as you both try to catch your breath, pulling yourself off of him before collapsing onto the couch. 

you hear his soft chuckle as he takes off his shirt, wiping between your legs gently before gripping your hips. you groan tiredly as he lays back and brings you with him, your body moving against his until you’re comfortably sprawled out on top of him.

he closes his eyes as he feels your faint breathing against him, his hands gently working their way into your sweaty hair. there’s a comfortable silence in the room, the faint smell a pumpkin candle and sex in the air as you bury yourself further into him. 

“how do you feel now?” he mumbles knowingly in your ear, a smirk on his lips as you pinch him in the arm. 

“shut up,” you mumble into his neck, pulling back to look at him. his cheeks are flushed and eyes are soft as they look down at you, pulling at something in your chest that makes you pinch him again.

“why are you pinching me?” he chuckles, tightening his hold on you. 

“because you’re mean,” you whine to him, sitting up to straddle his naked waist. “you had me frustrated all morning and just made it worse throughout the day with your shit.”

“i’m sorry, baby, i really am,” he says, though there’s nothing apologetic about his tone or face. you narrow your eyes at him before slapping his chest lightly, about to get up before he grabs you around the waist.

“wait, wait, where are you going?” 

“i told you i had work to do,” you tell him, knowing your resolve to ditch the work and spend the rest of the night on the couch with him is already creeping up. 

“do it later,” he asks softly, spinning you around and pulling you into him again. “i wanna lay with you and watch tv.” 

you let out a huff as you look down at him, the uncharacteristic softness you were once shocked by something you always see now. 

you could feel insecure or unsure about everything else in the world, your own looks or your abilities at school or if you did the right thing at work, but you’re never not confident about yeosang’s love for you.

it’s obvious in his eyes and the way he touches you, soft and sweet and full of care even though in your steamier moments, he’s rough and very reminiscent of his old, harsher self. 

it’s what makes the aftercare that much more sweet, knowing this is how he is and that your wellbeing is always number one. it takes all of two-seconds for you to cave, cuddling against him as you ask what you guys are gonna eat for dinner. 

it’s over a buffet of chinese food later that night, you in yeosang’s lap and him pecking your neck playfully, that you hear him mumble words into your skin.

“i wanna ask you something, baby.”

he says the words so sweetly and innocently that you can’t help but smile, scooting yourself off his lap so you can sit criss-crossed in front of him. 

“what?” you chirp, white rice in hand as you shovel pieces in your mouth.

he smiles at the way you so messily eat, wiping at the corner of your mouth affectionately. 

“when we were talking about mingi proposing to yunho before,” he begins, his voice uncharacteristically shy and almost hesitant. “and what mingi said about you needing to wait till you’re 50 for me to propose. is that...something you guys talked about?” 

you purse your lips together so you don’t burst out laughing at his cute blabbering, cocking your head to the side as you look at him. 

“are you asking if i wanna get married?” 

“i’m saying we can get married right now, if you want.”

you’d laugh if his face wasn’t so deadly serious, looking at you with soft awaiting eyes like he’s waiting for to say yes so he can run out and buy a ring. 

“yeosang...”

“i’m just saying, baby,” he says, cheeks the slightest pink that makes your heart soar in your chest. “i obviously wanna marry you but i was gonna wait till after we graduated. but if you wanna get the ball rolling, we can totally-”

the giggle you’ve been holding back finally bubbles out of your chest, your head thrown back and hands reaching down to hold his tightly. 

“stop laughing! what the fuck!” yeosang’s deep voice whines, the giggles leaving your mouth only becoming more prominent. 

“i’m sorry, you’re just so cute,” you tell him with a smile, your hand reaching out to smooth through his hair. 

your squealing and your touch only makes his cheeks turn pinker, a groan leaving his mouth as he pushes you to the side playfully. you crawl back to him undeterred before placing yourself in his lap, his face covered with mock annoyance as he wraps his arms around your waist. 

“you’re a little shit,” he mumbles shyly, another giggle leaving your mouth before you peck a kiss on his lips. 

“i have talked to mingi about that before,” you tell him honestly, not wanting him to think you were saying anything bad or hurtful. “just how...if we were to get married, i think it’d be nice. because sometimes i feel like we already are since we like... live together and stuff.”

“and stuff?” he smirks, his heart secretly fluttering at the cute way you stutter. 

he feels the same way too. coming home to you and being with you every night makes everything feel very real and serious. long gone was the couple that would fight and bicker in his pool house over issues that simple communication could’ve fix. 

now you were a couple who talked things out and made sure the other always knew what they were thinking or feeling. 

“yeah and stuff,” you say, poking him in the chest lightly. his deep chuckle sends butterflies through your stomach as you cuddle yourself further into him, resting your head on his shoulder. 

you sigh contently when he starts tracing shapes on your back, his warmth and the gentle lull of his fingers making your eyes close. he hums against your head when he feels you relax in his hold, his lips brushing against your hair in a way that makes you smile against him. 

“do you want kids?” he suddenly asks, lost in the contentment and warmth of the moment. 

it’s not something you’ve ever discussed with one another simply because the topic never came up. but he remembers the day of your first kiss, before the turmoil and the fighting and the kiss itself, the way he watched you with the little girl and felt his cold heart tug in his chest.

the way you bent down to her height and smiled softly at her, picked little rocks and twigs to make the snow girl’s face that he eventually deemed ugly even though you’d given her a talk about ‘beauty being in the eye of the beholder.’

he remembers laughing and smiling and feeling warm at the interaction, even though then he claimed to not like you; he knows now the same way he knew then that that was never the case, especially not when he was watching you with that child. 

“after we get married obviously,” he adds. not even needing to see him to know   there’s still a pink flush on his cheeks. 

“i do,” you mumble against him, your eyes closed with a smile still on your face. the question makes you happy, talk of a life with him always makes you happy. “i think you’d be a good dad. probably the mean parent but that’s okay.”

he pulls you out of his chest with a scoff, looking over your face with such a baffled expression, you can’t help but giggle.

“i’m kidding,” you tease, poking at his cheek lightly. “you’ll be like mingi by then, domesticated and sweet.”

your squeal fills the apartment when he gathers you in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he picks you up like it’s nothing and throws you back on the couch. 

“am i not already domesticated?” he asks, his hands next to your head as he leans over you. you smile up at him and shrug your shoulders, his eyebrows raising playfully. 

“maybe a little bit,” you giggle, watching his eyes roll that only makes you smile more. you bring your hands up to brush through his hair gently, watching his eyes close as your nails scrape his scalp. “do you want a boy or a girl?”

his eyes open upon hearing your question, roaming over your face in a way that makes your stomach flutter; you’ll never get used to the way he looks at you or the way your body responds to him.

“hmm, a girl,” he confesses lowly, a smile on his face as he thinks of you with your small child. her hair in a clip and rosy cheeks, your hair color but his eye color with a perfect mix of both your facial features. 

“how many?” 

he smiles as you guys start to picture your imaginary little family, picking out fake names and personalities as well as what they would be like in school. if they’re gonna be well-behaved and smart like you or a conniving, trouble-maker like him. 

“all i know is mingi and yunho are probably gonna beat us, somehow,” yeosang growls lowly, his (mock) disdain for the taller pretty boy something that’s never worn out over the years. 

“that’ll be good then,” you giggle, taking his hand when he stands up and extends his own. “we’ll need all the practice we can get.”

“absolutely. we’ll probably need to wait even a few years after we got married.”

because, for right now, you guys have school to focus on. 

classes and internships and future careers that are waiting for both of you eagerly. 

this dream is something you definitely want but, perhaps, not yet. you guys have all the time in the world, enjoying the freedom and space that comes with just living together and getting through college and the early adulthood years. 

“probably,” you nod, stretching your arms above your head and squealing his name when he tickles your sides.

classes start to pick up over the next month, the weather turning colder, work becoming harder and the amount of sleep you were getting shorter. you’d only gotten a few hours each night this week, working late and hard on a group project for, both, school and work.

so you’re not surprised in the slightest when you wake up one morning feeling like death, nauseous and sweaty before your groan wakes up yeosang. the queasy feeling that rushed up your throat moments later is one you haven’t felt in a long time, not even remembering the last time you had a gross stomach virus. 

yeosang held your hair back as you threw up, rubbing your back gently as you gripped the toilet seat.

“this is reminding me of when you threw up on the ski trip,” he says quietly, humor laced in his tone. 

you can only find it in yourself to throw up your middle finger, collapsing against his chest and whining that you don’t feel good. 

“i know, baby, i’m sorry,” he says, brushing your knotty, sleep-crazed hair back down. “you want me to stay home today?” 

and that’s how you both spend the whole day in bed, you alternating between sleeping on his chest, waking up to puke and then attempting to get down water and soup with crackers.

the nausea goes away when you wake up from your third nap, still feeling tired and achey but nowhere near as bad as when you woke up.

but you’re both still grateful for the day off with one another, cuddled up under the couch with a blanket and his arms wound tightly around you. your eyes start closing again when he starts rubbing your back absentmindedly, eventually falling asleep to the sound of his soft, even breathing. 

he looks down when you don’t respond to his question about the movie, smiling softly at your sleeping face before he moves back a few strands of sweaty hair. 

and it’s at the moment he knows he has to be in love with you, so content and happy with the time he spent with you today, that he’s not even concerned in the slightest about getting your stomach virus. 

part 2

tag list: @mirror-juliet​ 

[yan-twst]

♡masterlist II♡

-> apparently there is a 100 link limit on tumblr posts, and i hit that on my past masterlist! so this will be the second page for it to continue ^^ masterlist I can be found here: [x]

✧individual characters✧

ruggie with a darling who grew up in poverty

ruggie cuddling with his darling

floyd + RSA basketball team darling

floyd + cuddling after a bad day

leona having dinner with his family when cheka brings up his darling

cheka asking leona why he hasn’t married his darling

leona with a darling who likes meat as much as he does

malleus with a darling who owns a tamagotchi

malleus with a part-dragon darling 

malleus celebrating his darling’s birthday

sebek with an affectionate darling

sebek + breakfast in bed

azul taking his darling to a school reunion

ace and his darling’s first date

epel with a supportive darling

ortho hyping idia to propose to his darling

lilia general relationship headcanons

deuce accidentally slipping into delinquent mode in front of his darling

floyd with a darling who cooks

lilia with a busty darling

✧various characters✧

beast tamer darling (lilia, floyd)

characters with a darling who treats their wounds (jade, floyd, jack, ruggie)

characters with a darling who clings to them when scared (floyd, jade, malleus, lilia)

characters with a darling who's scared of bugs (leona, malleus, floyd, jade)

characters with a darling who falls off their broom (floyd, jade, malleus, jamil, lilia)

characters with a little sibling who attends nrc with them (malleus, leona, azul, jade, floyd)

characters with a darling who’s decided to stay in twisted wonderland (malleus, ace, floyd)

characters with a darling who shrunk due to magic (malleus, riddle, floyd) 

characters with a darling who uses a wheelchair (jamil, jade, trey, deuce, jack, idia)

going to the waterpark! (ace, deuce, grim)

characters when their darling proposes to them (jade, floyd, jamil, lilia)

playing mousetrap (cheka, ortho)

characters when their darling is late to their date (jade, floyd, jamil, vil, riddle)

characters with a fae darling whose wings were cut off in the past (sebek, malleus, azul)

characters with a darling who doesn’t talk because they dislike their voice (jamil, kalim, jade, floyd, malleus)

characters with a darling with terrible luck (vil, riddle, malleus, azul, jamil)

characters with a darling who teases them for being serious (deuce, riddle, malleus)

characters taking care of their sick darling (ace, trey, leona, lilia)

characters when grim turns into a human and hangs around their crush (azul, jade, floyd, ace, deuce)

short characters waking up one foot taller than they used to be (riddle, epel, lilia)

characters when rook follows their younger sibling around (leona, malleus, azul, jade, floyd)

✧dorm leaders✧

dorm leaders with a touch starved darling

dorm leaders + a laid back darling who likes to prank others

dorm leaders + their darling having an anime waifu / husbando

dorm leaders + their darling stressing over their future in twisted wonderland

dorm leaders + finding out their crush is a lesbian 

dorm leaders + a darling who has to return home because they’re the family’s breadwinner

dorm leaders + an usually cold and inexpressive darling smiling at them

dorm leaders + fragile and soft reader (platonic headcanons)

✧first years✧

first years + their darling using their clothes 

first years + their darling sending them anonymous gifts

first years + receiving friendship bracelets

first years + a crush who can change their appearance at will

first years + sleepover at ramshackle

first years + lesbian MC

first years + their darling dealing with a human grim

✧dorms✧

heatslabyul + insecure darling

heartslabyul + a vampire darling who needs blood

heartslabyul + a darling who eats the “eat me” cake or drinks the “drink me” potion

scarabia & diasomnia + darling who covers their eyes because they change colours with their feelings

heartslabyul + temperature soulmate AU

diasomnia + a darling who uses pet names

octavinelle + bartender darling

octavinelle + a darling who can sing to heal

scarabia & pomefiore + a darling who is immune to poison

octavinelle + sushi chef darling

savanaclaw + a darling who likes to pet their tails to relieve anxiety

✦yandere individual characters✦

yan!malleus with a selkie darling who willingly gives him their pelt

yan!malleus (and non-yan malleus) with a winged fae darling

yan!malleus who turns into a small animal and his darling has to care for him

yan!leona with a darling who acts caring for cheka

yan!epel headcanons

yan!kalim with a darling who puts up with being locked up

yan!trey general headcanons

yan!cater yandere alphabet A, E, J, K, N, T, U

yan!kalim with a gold digger darling

yan!idia marriage scenario

yan!azul with a darling who was bullied

yan!leona with a darling who doesn’t care he’s possessive

yan!leona with a tiger beastman darling

yan!lilia with a reincarnating darling

yan!malleus with a darling with a bad home life

yan!trey getting jealous of his darling paying attention to idia

yan!azul (and also regular azul) being pampered by his darling

yan!jamil with a darling who faints due to iron deficiency

yan!vampire vil scenario

yan!rook general headcanons

yan!azul with a darling who refuses to give him attention

malleus + yan alphabet (a, e, k, l, v, y)

✦yandere prompt stories✦

yan!azul with yandere prompt 3: “in the end... you’re only good for being with me. you’re useless at anything else, aren’t you?”

yan!kalim with yandere prompt 4: “i’m sorry for stealing your personal belongings... now that you’re here forever, i can return them!

yan!leona with yandere prompt 5:  “you have no idea... the things i’ve done while thinking of you, darling...”

yan!azul with yandere prompt 7:  “it’s cute how you think you have a choice!”

yan!azul with yandere prompt 9: “if you think of leaving, i’ll make death seem like a blessing to you.”

yan!rook with yandere prompt 10: “aah, forgive me for what i must do... i just can’t live on without you...!”

yan!jamil with yandere prompt 11: “feeling dizzy? well, it’s too late to realize: you already ingested what i slipped in your drink.” 

yan!lilia with yandere prompt 12:  “sure, i’ll let you run away. but if i catch you... then it’s fair game for me to do what i want.”]

yan!malleus with yandere prompt prompt 18: “i tried my best to be a normal lover… but it simply won’t work. you understand, right?”

yan!kalim with yandere prompt 19: “the outside is so dangerous, don’t you see? if i wasn’t here to protect you, who knows what would happen to you...”

yan!malleus with yandere prompt 22:  “you’re so sweet... i’m addicted to your presence.”

yan!trey with yandere prompt 23: “i don’t care if it’s the drugs making you speak; say you love me, again.”

yan!riddle with yandere prompt 24: “don’t look at me like that... you know i do everything i do because i love you.”

yan!leona with yandere prompt 25:“those bruises... did i do that...?”

yan!jamil with yandere prompt 28: “don’t you get it? i’m in charge here- you’re basically a glorified servant.”

yan!sebek with yandere prompt 31:“i ordered you to stay quiet. stop crying.”

yan!malleus with yandere prompt 33: “i didn’t mean to- no, god, i love you so much…! how could i have done this?”

yan!azul with yandere prompt 34:  “that’s right, just accept me... you’ll be so happy with me...”

yan!malleus with yandere prompt 35: “i wish i could love you the normal way.”

yan!lilia with yandere prompt 36: "your fear is so delicious to me"

yan!malleus with yandere prompt 37: "you look beautiful when you sleep... i'd know- i watched you, after all"

yan!riddle with yandere prompt 39:  "don't you dare think of anyone other than me"

yan!vil with yandere prompt 40: "i wish i didn't need to make you drink love potions for you to act caring, darling" 

yan!sebek with yandere prompt 42: "this is your last warning. either you're obedient, or i'll make you obedient"

yan!silver with yandere prompt 43:  "all i ever asked was for you to love me back... are you so selfish you won't even give me that?"

yan!azul with yandere prompt 47: "did you think you could escape me...? don't you know we're meant for each other? you're destined to return to me"

yan!epel with yandere prompt 48: "i never claimed to be a good person. if you didn't want this to happen, you shouldn't have made me fall in love with you"

yan!jamil with yandere prompt 66: “i like having power over you, don’t you get it? there’s no way to get out of this.”

yan!rook with yandere prompt 112: “i’ve been watching you for a while. i know your routine, your habits; i fell in love with how you act when you think nobody is looking.”

yan!ace with yandere prompt 117:  “ah, it’s ok to be angry at me… kick me, yell at me…! i don’t care what you do, just being near you is heaven!”

yan!deuce with yandere prompt 118: “i’d do anything for you. and i mean it; the law means nothing if it’s something you ask of me.”

yan!jade with  yandere prompt 119: “ah… you punched me- that’s ok, too. i hope it bruises; i want a mark to remind me your lovely hands were on my skin.”

✦yandere various characters✦

yan!characters reading their darling's diary and finding their secret (riddle, azul, leona, jamil, malleus)

yan!characters with a darling who has difficulty sleeping (leona, azul, floyd, jade)

yan!characters when someone is getting too close to their darling (leona, jamil, vil)

yan!characters when a secret admirer sends their darling a gift (riddle, ruggie, azul, kalim, epel, malleus)

yan!characters when their darling jokes they love someone else (leona, azul, idia, malleus, jade, floyd)

yan!characters with a darling who collects venomous snakes (azul, malleus, vil)

yan!characters when their darling escapes back to their world (azul, floyd, rook)

yan!characters with a darling who likes to go to parties (malleus, leona, vil)

yan!characters with a winged darling (lilia, azul, malleus)

yan!characters with a darling who wants to love them back (ruggie, trey, kalim)

yan!malleus falling for lilia’s spouse / yan!lilia falling for malleus’ spouse

yan!characters bullying their darling to get their attention (ace, floyd)

✦yandere dorm leaders / vice dorm leaders✦

yan!dorm leaders when another yan!dorm leader’s darling comes to them for refuge

yan!dorm leaders with a darling who refuses to eat any food they didn’t cook

yan!dorm leaders celebrating their darling’s birthday post-capture

yan!dorm leaders when their darling begs for them to kill them

yan!dorm leaders when their darling asks them to kill someone

yan!dorm leaders celebrating their darling’s birthday

yan!dorm leaders with a darling who they can’t wake up with a true love’s kiss

yan!vice dorm leaders general relationship headcanons (includes nsfw for 18+ characters)

✦yandere first years✦

yan!first years seeing their darling have their first kiss with someone else

✦yandere dorms✦

yan!savanaclaw working together to catch a sneaky darling

yan!octavinelle with a darling who can overpower the tweels

yan!scarabia + yan!savanaclaw with a darling who has a nightmare of them leaving

yan!pomefiore + yan!savanaclaw with a stockholm syndrome darling

yan!scarabia + yan!octavinelle with a genie darling

pomefiore yan alphabet (a, c, n, o)

♡nsfw stuff♡

[NSFW] idia + darling in thigh-highs

[NSFW] yan!trey + male darling

[NSFW] cater + blushy darling

[NSFW] lilia + breeding kink

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None, all platonic.

Word Count: 1,129 Words

Summary: Deceit’s room disappears after his rejection from both the light and dark sides. Roman finds a blind, weak snake in the Imagination after months of Deceit being missing.

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, Mentions Of Violence, Blood, Injury, Angst, Starvation, Abandonment, let me know if I should add more.

Note: Anything like ‘this’ is an thoughts. Anything like ‘this’ is ASL. Bold like this is a lie.

Based on this prompt.

Why Me?: Chapter 1- Deceit

Deceit had no idea how long he had been wandering. At some point, not long ago, he remembered coming upon a village, surely somewhere in the Imagination still. They had kept him for two days and stoned him in the accusation of witchcraft because of his scales.

They’d also cut his eyes, making bloody ‘tears’ run down his face in a way that made him think it looked like Virgil’s old makeup, how he used to make it look like he’d cried to make it run. He was only wearing a black pair of jeans, sneakers and a yellow sweater. He would be in his full attire if only he had a room.

The rejection of both sides had destroyed his room, therefore he wasn’t needed. It set him to wander the Imagination, which was turning to winter. He had debated many times jumping into the Unconscious only to bring himself to tears thinking about how Thomas would lose someone who protected him.

And, with what those villagers did, he was fearful of what Roman would do if he found the scaled side. So he determined he had to keep moving. He was stumbling still, eyes useless. He wouldn’t even know if he had wandered into the Unconscious now with these blind eyes.

Everything was blurred and misty with time being thrown to the wind and the day/night cycle his body had maintained was long thrown to the wind. He was weak and helpless and vulnerable and he hated it but he couldn’t change it.

He still felt sick from throwing up the day before when the village’s preacher had given his eyes their bloody severance. He didn’t quite notice where he was going. How could he? He wasn’t able to see and he’d barely ever left his room before it disappeared.

“Oh hey, Scales of Justice. Where are you going?” Came a familiar voice in a calming tone, he recognized it, but it had been so long since he’d heard it that he couldn’t pinpoint who that was.

“Are you okay?” The voice came again, this time gentle hands taking his own. The voice was so familiar but he just couldn’t put a finger on it yet. “Deceit?”

His head snapped up. Roman? This was Creativity. He needed to get away! He immediately let go of Roman’s hands, about to run away when gentle but firm hands caught him again by the wrists.

“Dee, are you okay? Do you need...“ Roman asked gently but, over his heartbeat slamming in his ears, the deceitful side was too scared to really hear what he was saying.

He hissed, a sudden, violent instinct that told him to fend himself away from this person no matter who they were. He felt tears falling over and his body shaking but Roman didn’t let go. He held firmly and pulled him in against his body to keep him close.

“No. Dee, no. Why would you do that?“ Roman sounded...wait, not scary? Not hateful or angry or even just annoyed but...protective? He suddenly felt his face against something soft, Roman’s shirt maybe? Deceit’s hands were between them, against the creative trait’s chest.

Maybe trusting this one side was okay? His panic melted away with Roman combing gentle fingers through his thin, brittle hair and his easily bruising skin. Without a room, also came no food as imagination food wasn’t edible to sides lest they felt like dying of ingesting what would be, to them, foam and acid. His hair had grown brittle months ago and his body skinnier and skinnier the less he could take care of it.

“Come on, buddy. It’s getting cold.“ Roman reminded him, gently bundling him in what felt like a thick blanket around his shoulders. His bones did, indeed, feel cold, freezing to the center. His skin, more like pallid paper, was probably blue from extreme malnourishment. His face still felt frostbitten, a feeling he’d frown accustomed to with the weight loss.

He let Roman’s gentle hand hold around his waist and tense for a second before beginning to pull him closer, leading him somewhere. The Mind Palace? His castle? A makeshift room? He didn’t know.

“Have you been eating?“ Roman asked. He knew his voice was burned to its wits end from the last two days of screaming in pain but he still needed to respond.

“No.“ His voice was definitely distinctly worn out. Even with the one word, his voice was struggling to be audible. But, thankfully, Roman was a good listener.

“You were pretty close to the Unconscious, are you alright? Your eyes aren’t focussing.“ The prince was careful guiding him around even without knowledge of his new blindness. It made tears spring to his eyes and pain the still fresh cuts in them.

“’M blind.“ He admitted to the prince and Roman gasped audibly and gentle fingers held his lower cheek to, seemingly, gaze into his eyes.

“By Zeus, those are already healed wrong. Why haven’t you got to your room, Dee?“ The prince sounded worried.

“My room is gone.“ He told him outrightly. Another gasp.

“I’ll get it back for you then. Until I can do that, you’ll stay at my castle so you don’t have to worry about ever being lost alone.“ He felt more tears and ducked his head down. He shouldn’t cry over this. He was a side, he was stronger than crying over something so simple as Roman offering him help.

“It’s okay, Dee, we’ll get you some food and I’ll make sure you’re nice and warm and safe.“ And then he really did start crying, buried into Roman’s neck and hiccupping. He hated being weak but Roman just hugged him close and didn’t complain.

When Deceit managed to stop crying, Roman picked him up and carried him to his castle. Deceit fell asleep somewhere along the way there but he woke up to a soft bed under him and what he hoped was Roman against his front. He grasped at the other person’s clothes, trying to find Roman’s logo patch. If he found that, he could tell who it was.

“You’re awake.“ Roman’s hand cupped his face. Dee nodded and snuggled closer to the other side and Roman ran his thumb over the scales under his hand. ”Do you feel okay?”

“Better, a little bit.“ He admitted softly.

“That’s good. Are there any foods you like specifically?“

“No dairy, allergic.“ The snakelike side admitted.

“So how about you take a shower if you want and I’ll get you some soup.“ Roman suggested. Dee nodded and let Roman guide him to the bathroom and show him with touch how to use the shower before leaving the snake to his own devices with clean clothes on the counter across from the shower.

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